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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months

Text

Sorry to Meet You

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Summary: The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years.

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, accident, surgery, not beta’d, turning, grief

Word Count: 5.8k (sorry, I got a little carried away and I’m getting used to writing one shots again)

Masterlist

I rounded the corner within the halls of my father’s hospital, heading towards his oh so familiar office. I had spent a good portion of my childhood playing in the office halls of the hospital so as to not get in the way of an emergency. Every take your child to work day, every early dismissal, random day off from school, and every weekend he had to work and couldn’t find someone to watch me, he brought me here up until I was about 12.

Now I was in college, studying biology as a pre-med student at Johns Hopkins University. But today I was returning to Forks for my summer vacation in between my freshman and sophomore year. He was supposed to pick me up from the airport tomorrow but I had wanted to surprise him at work so I left a day early.

Reaching the door to his office, I entered. Embarrassingly, I had been so eager I hadn’t even checked if he was busy. As the door swung open I was met with the golden hair and eyes of the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. Given his youth I assumed he was a student or a resident but one look at his badge told me he was an attending.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” my father’s voice broke me from my trance.

“Hi!” I smiled at my father, ripping myself from the mystery man’s enchanting gaze. “I wanted to surprise you,” I explained, returning his hug. “I was so excited I didn’t even consider that you were busy. Sorry,” I apologized to both men.

“Don’t be,” the blond said in an almost melodic voice. “Trust me I understand the importance of family.”

“Yeah Dr. Cullen’s kids are here all the time,” my father laughed.

‘This guy has kids?’ I thought. ‘Plural? He looks no older than 25.’

Seemingly reading the confusion on my face he explained. “Adopted kids. My sister and I were foster kids so we always agreed we’d adopt as many as possible. So far we’ve adopted five teenagers, hoping to give them a new shot at life.”

“Wow,” was all I said, unsure of how to react. ‘Well this guy was definitely out,’ I noted to myself. ‘Not only is he your father’s colleague, he had five teenagers.’ “Well I should let you get back to it,” I said shyly, already backing out of my father’s office, embarrassed. “I’ll be at the house and we’ll get dinner after?” I suggested to my father.

“Sounds good. See you later sweetie,” he called after me.

Carlisle tried his hardest to focus on Dr. L/N’s words but he couldn’t, he was so focused on his colleague’s daughter. When she entered the office he had sucked in a breath he didn’t need. He had heard that some mate connections hit you like a brick but he hadn’t seen it with anyone except presumably between Rosalie and Emmett when she demanded he save him.

So as soon as he was done with his meeting he hopped into his Mercedes and headed towards Dr. L/N’s house. Once he reached it he found no cars in the driveway or any indication that there had been a car there recently, only wet footprints leading up to the porch and inside the door, presumably from Y/N getting out of a cab.

Continuing past the house he parked about half a mile away before running back to the house, a feat that only took him a couple seconds.

Taking a page from Edward’s book he began creeping along the side of the house, trying to spot Y/N through a window. But when he couldn’t find her he was forced to climb up some trees until he found her in what was presumably her bedroom, unpacking a suitcase full of clothes.

He watched, admiring the girl as she sorted through the clothes, tossing some in the laundry bin and others in piles to be sorted in the closet. He realized that he could watch her all day, admiring the quirks of her expression as she reacted to different situations. He hadn’t understood the other Cullens’ obsessions with each other until now.

He continued to watch for hours. His eyes sometimes drifting to the delicate curves of her body but always scolding himself for thinking of her like that given that she didn’t even really know him. But a small part of his mind whispered that she’d be his one day.

He only left when he heard her father’s car approaching, swearing to come back to learn more about her so he could strike up a conversation about her favorite things the next time they “accidentally” ran into each other.

The next time I visited the hospital wasn’t just to visit my father, it was because I had managed to slip in a puddle, earning myself a gash on the forehead.

I was sat in the waiting room going on two hours with a blood soaked rag pressed to my forehead. I truly didn’t mind waiting seeing as I knew there were far more injured people getting treated. But as I continued to wait I started to get more and more light headed. I began to make my way to the desk in hopes they could give me some answers when I got a head rush, stumbling into a very cold, hard chest.

“Y/N?” I heard the melodic voice again. This time dripping with concern. “What happened?”

“Oh nothing,” I dismissed, reluctantly pulling away from the grasp he had on my arms. “Just slipped in a puddle and my head kind of ate it,” I chuckled.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, more concern ebbing into his voice.

“I don’t know about two hours?” I shrugged, trying to not make a big deal of it. “Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll just get all concerned and angry and wonder why I wasn’t immediately treated.”

Inside, Carlisle was already feeling all those things I just described. “Well you shouldn’t have to sit there for two hours, bleeding out of your head. You should’ve been brought for a CT. C’mon, can’t have Dr. L/N’s daughter bleeding out in the waiting room.”

I smiled shyly as I felt his strong, cold hand be gently placed on my lower back as he guided me towards an exam room.

All throughout the exam Carlisle had to hold his breath. He has excellent control, it’s what many believe to be his special ability and it allows him to do what he loves but Y/N’s blood? The faintest smell alone made venom flood his mouth. And the blood soaked rag along with the fact that he had to bandage up her forehead didn’t help.

“Okay, that should do it,” he smiled, thankfully pulling back from his mate as he finished taping a bandage onto her head. “You’ll have to keep it bandaged for a couple days but your father should be able to help with that. And you most likely won’t scar.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Dr. Cullen. I owe you one.”

He shook his head, breathing a laugh as he looked down at the girl’s chart. “Please, I’m happy to do it. And you can call me Carlisle.”

“Carlisle,” she repeated, nearly melting the vampire right there, “that’s an interesting name, never heard it.”

“Well my parents were a bit old fashioned,” he explained. “So your father tells me you finished your first year at Johns Hopkins? That’s very impressive.”

He admired her blush as she looked down at the ground. “Thanks. I think I was the only one of my graduating class to go out of state.”

“Yeah, I’ve figured out Forks is a very small town. Not many people leave,” he chuckled. “Do you know what you want to study?”

“Um I’ve always kind of wanted to be a surgeon. I know it’s the most difficult specialty but I enjoy the precision of it,” she shrugged.

Carlisle felt a sense of disappointment at the news that his mate wanted to be a surgeon. Being a doctor was hard enough as a vampire but having to literally cut people open? Even he didn’t think he’d be able to focus surrounded by so much blood. He was already dreading having to tell her that she couldn’t be a surgeon after she turned, not at least for decades while she learned control. He was suddenly snapped from his fantasies realizing that this human barely knew him and practically everything he knew about her came from his lurking outside her windows.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts which had no doubt created a long, awkward pause he spoke again. “Yes, well if you made it to Johns Hopkins then I’m sure you can do it.”

“Thanks Doc- Carlisle,” Y/N corrected before standing up off the table and heading for the door.

As she exited, taking most of her intoxicating scent with her, Carlisle sucked in a breath he didn’t need. As much as he hated watching his mate leave he needed a break from her blood. No one had tempted him the way Y/N L/N had, even when he was a starving newborn. And he realized that he would have to figure out a way to get close to her and get her to love him before he even told her about the mate bond. A difficult feat considering her father’s place as his colleague.

When Carlisle got home that evening he immediately went to his room, tipping off the family that something was different.

As he collapsed backwards onto his sofa he let his mind wander to his mate. He could picture her face so clearly, and more frighteningly he could still imagine the smell of her blood with eerie accuracy. He imagined all his future endeavors to keep her safe as a human. He’d watch over her, always be within reach to step in when she needed. He pictured their love story. It’d be slow and start with glances and fleeting touches until he invited her out to dinner once she became more comfortable with him. He’d kiss her goodnight on the porch and then make sure she got into the safety of her home before leaving. Their relationship would develop from there with more dates, with Y/N’s father’s approval of course. And when she uttered the words ‘I love you,’ he’d tell her about him and his species because he knew he had earned her love. And as much as he didn’t want to damn her to a life of hiding and being a monster, he couldn’t help but imagine her turning. He’d gently bite into the soft flesh of her throat, injecting his venom into her veins, cementing her as his forever. But the thought of hurting her and turning her into a monster made him hesitate.

As Carlisle continued to immerse himself in his fantasies, his sister entered. “Carlisle?” Esme called softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sitting up. He wasn’t sure whether or not to tell his family that he had met him mate, considering they were already dealing with the human mate to Edward, Bella, who they had just moved back to Forks for. Of course no secrets stayed secrets for long thanks to Edward and Alice’s gifts. Edward could be counted on for discretion but Alice’s overeager nature wouldn’t allow that. He was surprised that Alice hadn’t already planned a party but maybe she hadn’t seen his mate in her visions yet. He had also wanted to keep her his own little secret for a while but clearly that wouldn’t be happening so he relented. “I- uh met my true mate.”

Esme’s eyes widened as she gasped. Of course living in a house full of vampires everyone heard and immediately began rushing in.

“You met your mate!” Alice practically screamed, nearly knocking over Esme.

“What’s she like?” Emmett asked with a grin. “Or he?” he added hesitantly.

“It’s a she,” Carlisle confirmed. “It’s very new. She doesn’t even really know anything about me and everything I know about her comes from lurking outside her window,” he groaned in embarrassment.

“Well that worked with Bella,” Jasper laughed.

Edward shot his brother a glare before looking back at his adoptive father. “Just find an excuse to be around her, ask her on a date.”

“That’s the thing, she’s 19-”

“You’re physically 23,” Alice cut in.

“Her father is my coworker,” he elaborated. “Besides they think I’m 31 at the hospital. And she just finished her first year pre-med.”

“So you’ll see her around the hospital!” Alice insisted, still trying to convince her adoptive father that everything would be fine. “Suggest that she comes to the hospital more to observe or do an internship! Then you can get to know her and ask her on a date.”

“That’s not actually the worst plan,” Edward admitted.

Carlisle thought for a second. That could actually work, he’d just have to figure out how to bring it up to her and her father naturally.

“So what’s she like?” Rosalie asked suddenly.

If vampires could blush Carlisle would be bright red. “Well um she has H/L, (hair length) H/T, (type) H/C (color) hair. She actually looks a lot like her father, Dr. L/N. She goes to Johns Hopkins. Look can everyone just go back to what they were doing?”

“But we want to meet her,” Alice practically whined.

In his frustration with everything Carlisle blurted out, “You may not even get to meet her.”

That dampened the mood. “What?” Esme asked softly.

“Nothing is decided yet but she’s human. We’re already dealing with Bella, the Volturi are already keeping their eyes on us, and I don’t want to doom her to this life if I don’t have to.”

“But this is your mate,” Alice insisted. “You’ve been alone for 350 years!”

“He has a point,” Rosalie cut in. “We can’t afford to have another human know about us especially with the Volturi sniffing around us. And we shouldn’t be turning people unless they’re actively dying.”

“But she’s his true mate!” Alice maintained, practically stamping her foot on the ground. “He can’t just turn his back on her.”

“Look nothing is decided,” Carlisle tried to calm Alice down. “I have to be back at work in a few hours and I need to hunt so if you’d all please let me be.”

Everyone shuffled out of the room reluctantly except for Edward. “It will break your heart to let that girl go.”

Carlisle paused. He knew that, the idea of letting her go live her life and potentially fall in love with someone else broke his heart. “I know,” he admitted. “But the thought of having to hurt her and make her like this hurts just as much.”

“So love her for the duration of her mortal life.”

“Just to watch her age, live in pain, and die? I couldn’t handle that.”

“But you’re doing it for her,” Edward pointed out.

“But if I’m doing it for her shouldn’t I just let her go live a normal life?”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know the right answer here just that no matter what you choose it’ll kill you in some way. That’s the unfortunate truth about loving a human.”

A few weeks went by and Y/N became a routine part of Carlisle’s day. He’d usually see her at the hospital, working as a secretary. (A job she acquired even without Carlisle’s suggestion.) Because of that he had gained a reputation for hanging around the nurses station, flirting with Y/N. Not only did he learn about her through actually talking to her, he would make frequent trips to her house to watch her through the windows, even occasionally going into her room, which he felt wrong about but being surrounded by her scent dismissed any doubt from his mind.

“Y/N,” he greeted like he did every morning, bringing her a coffee.

“You must be spending a fortune on coffee,” she commented, taking the cup. She had protested several times, insisting that she pay him back but he refused every time so she just began to accept it.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed. “But if it was it’d be worth it,” he flirted, earning a blush from the girl. Carlisle had learned a lot about flirting in these few weeks. At first it was a bit clumsy but he picked it up fairly easily with a little coaching from Rosalie and Emmett.

“Yeah well you won’t have to spend like $4.50 everyday for much longer, one of my professors is starting a research project a month before the semester begins and he invited me as a fellow,” she explained, a glimmer of disappointment behind her bright, casual expression.

If Carlisle’s heart wasn’t already frozen it would’ve stopped beating. He tried his best to hide his shock and disappointment. “Oh, well congratulations. Getting invited to stuff like this is really good for med school applications.”

“Yeah, and I like being here but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, y’know? Plus it’ll be nice to see the sun again,” she awkwardly laughed, sensing the doctor’s unease.

“Yeah, um well I have to go get some labs. Congratulations, I’ll see you around,” he rushed out with a forced smile. He didn’t stay long enough to hear her response, rushing out of the room as fast as possible without being suspicious.

He couldn’t think straight. He of course had thought about her just leaving but now that it was actually happening, as well as happening sooner than expected, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Carlisle had no clue what to do when it came to his mate leaving. He couldn’t stop her, that wasn’t fair to Y/N, so instead he kept his distance. Which was easy considering that he could smell her from a mile away. Until one day at the hospital when the scent of her blood was particularly strong.

“19 year old female, car crash. Resuscitated once in the field, three times en route,” the panicked voice of the paramedic echoed through Carlisle’s sensitive ears. He rushed into the ER, spotting her through the window of the trauma room. He mostly recognized her through her scent but would know that H/T, H/C hair and S/T skin through purple and blue bruises from a million miles away. But the next words from her attending doctor only confirmed the worst. “Page Dr. L/N, it’s Y/N!”

It felt like Carlisle had been sucker punched in the gut. It took everything in him not to stagger back and let out a dry sob right there in the ER. When her heart monitor flatlined he wanted to slaughter every person in that room in his grief. It was ridiculous, 350 years of self control would be gone just because of a girl. But not just any girl, his girl.

When they finally got Y/N’s heartbeat back they wheeled her up to surgery, just as Dr. L/N entered the ER. “Where’s Y/N? Where’s my daughter?” he demanded, trying to launch himself at the ER desk.

“D/N, D/N,” Carlisle tried to calm the distraught father. He had to physically hold the man back with vampire strength. Fortunately the ER was too chaotic for anyone to notice. “They took her up to surgery, she’ll be fine.”

“Surgery? Oh god,” the man began to cry. “But that’s my baby, she’s all I have.” With those words Carlisle began to feel guilty. Just a few weeks ago a part of him had been so ready to basically just kidnap this poor man’s daughter and completely shatter his world without a thought. “Oh god, surgery here is a death sentence.”

Carlisle began to protest before really thinking about it. Forks Hospital was small, their surgical staff consisted of two surgeons and whatever nurses that had completed the surgical nurse program. No one came her for surgery, they all went to Port Angeles and their non-emergent traumas went there too. The only people who came here were on the brink of death and unfortunately the two surgeons here weren’t exactly outstanding in their field. They were good enough but nothing remarkable and they usually lost their patients due to the circumstances.

Carlisle tried to carry on his day as if the love of his life wasn’t dying in a surgical suite right now. But the ordinarily smooth, confident doctor was distracted and constantly messing up. Until finally his shift was over and he went up to his mate’s room. He had orchestrated the nurses’ charts so she’d be placed in a secluded room should Carlisle need to intervene to prolong her life.

When he entered the room he was met with the most heartbreaking sight. Y/N was laid on the bed, an intubation tube sticking out of her throat. Her entire face was black and blue, some bones in her face looked like they had been broken. She hardly looked recognizable. On the only chair in the room sat her father looking like a worried mess. “Oh, hey Carlisle,” Dr. L/N said dejectedly.

“I’m so sorry, D/N.”

The man shrugged. “She’s tough. She managed to claw her way out of this place. She’ll survive this.”

“I hope so,” Carlisle agreed, staring longingly at his mate.

He didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion from Y/N’s father so he reluctantly went home to change and hunt.

After his quick hunt he re-entered his home finding Alice. “Carlisle, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. He wasn’t sure what to say to that but fortunately he didn’t have to come up with anything because she spoke again. “But you have to stay with her at the hospital if you want any shot at survival.” By now Edward had joined them.

“What?” Carlisle asked.

“She won’t survive this. You’re a doctor, you have to know that. So you’ll have to change her.”

Carlisle would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of the scenario where Y/N was severely injured and he needed to change her. He looked up at his oldest son. “There’s nothing wrong about saving her life if she’s already dying.”

Not wanting to waste another second Carlisle sped off. He almost ran to the hospital but realized at the last second he should take the car. So he floored it, doing 150mph practically the whole way there. And finally parking in the back so he’d be able to bring her home unseen.

When he got to the hospital his ears were bombarded with thousands of sounds, something he was now used to, but because of his experience he was able to tune into his mate’s heart monitor while he got his plan ready.

Heading to the morgue he found a body that was a similar build and coloring to Y/N. Carlisle was by no means squeamish but it felt weird to break her bones and watch bruises form over her skin until her face was unrecognizable. He then scraped up as many ashes as possible to make it look like someone had cremated her so no one would go looking for her body. Setting the body aside he headed back upstairs finding Dr. L/N slumped over in a chair.

Carlisle hesitantly shook the older man awake. “Hey,” he said softly, willing the man to take his suggestion. “You should go home and rest. Get changed. I’ll watch over her.” The man hesitated, still staring at his fragile daughter. “She'll be fine, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

He reluctantly agreed before heading out, making Carlisle promise to call him even if her heart rate changed by two points.

Carlisle sat for a while, waiting for the hospital to calm down a bit before enacting his plan. First he went to the nurses station while no one was there, turning off the monitors that connected to his mate’s room. He then went back downstairs, using his hearing and sense of smell to bring the body up without being detected. Finally it was time to turn his mate. He stood over her bedside, observing her mortality for the final time. Through the black and blue of her face he admired her beauty, reminiscing the unique, flawed beauty of mortals.

This would be the most difficult transformation of his life. He was more nervous than when he had turned his sister who was his first turn. Y/N’s blood smelled so sweet he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull away. He took a deep breath through his mouth before lowering his head to her throat, biting quickly. It took everything in him to pull away. He had never killed a human but he had tasted blood when he turned them and Y/N’s was like nothing he had ever tasted before. He knew he had to hold on long enough for the venom to inject into her bloodstream which made it even harder to pull away but he did it.

When he pulled back he could see blood seeping from her puncture wounds telling him he didn’t kill her. He quickly began disconnecting her from the machines before the venom could wreak havoc on her system. He then swapped her body for the one from the morgue, connecting the machines once again. Running down to the car he placed her unconscious figure in the backseat before going upstairs to reconnect the nurses station, alerting them that Y/N L/N was dying.

But by the time they reached her room with a crash cart Carlisle was already escaping with his prize in the back seat.

It took three agonizing days for Y/N’s transformation. Carlisle spent every moment he could at her side. He had to go to the hospital in order to not arouse suspicion where he unfortunately had to deal with her grieving father. He had called him on the way home to tell that he had gone to the bathroom and when he got back she was coding. But it didn’t seem to make anything easier for Dr. L/N as the man tried to tackle Carlisle when he walked into work. Fortunately for his secret a nurse stopped him. “You left her!” he screamed. “I lost my baby. I didn’t get to say goodbye because of you!”

At first Carlisle had been elated to finally have his mate (among other conflicting feelings) but now he was confronting the grief he had created. He realized that even if she was going to die anyway, if he hadn’t intervened her father would’ve gotten to say his final goodbye.

Meanwhile at home Y/N was laid on the soft couch in his room. She had spent the first two days sleeping fairly peacefully to the point that Carlisle was afraid he had killed her but her slowing heartbeat was assurance that she was okay. The third day was the hardest, he learned from Jasper that he could feel her pain. He was at work when the pain started and Alice had called him since she would be awake soon and Carlisle had wanted to be the one with her when she woke up.

Carlisle had been sitting by her side for a few hours, admiring her now clear skin, pure from all the bruises and broken bones she had received. In his own cold, stone hand, he now felt the same in her hand, all the warmth having been drained from it now as he played with her fingers adoringly.

Even before I opened my eyes I could hear so clearly. I could hear the rustle of clothing, the sound of skin rubbing skin as I realized a cold hand was playing with my fingers. As I became more aware I realized that my throat felt so dry it felt like it was burning.

Peeling my eyes open I was met with what seemed like the brightest object in the universe. I was half convinced I was staring directly into the sun except I could heat the hum of electric lighting.

“Is it too bright?” a voice— Carlisle’s voice asked.

Turning my head I met his warm, golden expression. When I nodded in agreement he ran towards the switch faster than I had ever seen anything move. Weird, but maybe I was just really groggy, but strangely I didn’t feel groggy, I felt more alive than I ever had.

Carlisle’s face reappeared in my field of vision, I could now more clearly see the flawlessness of his skin and the flecks of gold in his irises. Unbeknownst to me he was was also now observing the smoothness of my skin and the deep red hue of my eyes. Something about him felt safe and warm, like I never wanted to leave his side again. “Carlisle?” was all I could think of to say.

His adoring smile widened when I said his name. “Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Good…” I answered hesitantly. I felt better than I ever had but his question made me think I shouldn’t feel good.

“That’s good. The transformation can be rougher for some people,” he explained, pulling away slightly to allow me room to sit up.

As I pushed myself up I moved so fast the couch slid to the side. My eyes widened, realizing what happened. “What’s going on? What transformation?”

He took my hands in his, now kneeling on the ground in front of me. “This is going to be strange and you won’t believe me but bear with me, okay?” he asked, looking up at me. One look in his eyes and I was melting so I just nodded, allowing him to explain. “I’m… a vampire. And I made you one too.” Laughs began to wrack my body, this had to be a joke. But one look at the grave sincerity on his face told me he wasn’t joking. “It’s true. It’s why when you sat up the couch moved. Why you’re probably really overwhelmed with all the sound, smells, lights, and feelings. Vampires are the most dangerous predators. We have better senses, are faster, and stronger than anything else.” Seeing my lost expression he rushed out the next words. “I know it’s a lot and I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“How much do you remember?”

“The last thing I remember is driv-” I suddenly realized what must’ve happened. “I was in an accident wasn’t I?”

Carlisle nodded his head regretfully. “You weren’t going to make it. That’s why I turned you. I didn’t want to do it. I was going to let you live your life as a human whether that be with me or with someone else but I couldn’t just let you die.”

“So what? You just turn every dying patient in the hospital?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around his words.

He shook his head no. “You’re the first I’ve turned in nearly 70 years. I couldn’t let you die because… well you see-” Carlisle was struggling with the best word choice to keep from scaring his mate off. “We’re mates… I knew the instant I saw you. Humans can’t feel it as strongly and it’s rare to meet your true mate but that’s what we are.” I didn’t know how to react, I didn’t even know exactly what I was feeling. “You don’t have to stay, you certainly don’t have to accept our bond but I thought you should know about it. Before you got hurt I was planning to hopefully be worthy of your love the old-fashioned way but given the circumstances…”

Before I could say anything the door swung open, revealing three more vampires. One had blonde curls, another with a brunette, short pixie, and the third had caramel hair and had a strong resemblance to Carlisle. “Hi, I’m Alice!” the bubbly brunette introduced.

“Um, girls-” Carlisle attempted to dismiss them so as to not overwhelm his mate.

“She’s probably thirsty,” the blonde insisted. Everyone looked over at me expectantly. Remembering the burning in my throat I nodded. Alice approached, opening a cup allowing the most appetizing scent to permeate through the air. I took it eagerly, frowning when I looked into the cup to find a thick, red liquid. Blood.

“It takes a bit of getting used to,” the caramel-haired one empathized.

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” Alice encouraged.

I gingerly brought it to my lips. The more I could smell it the thirstier I got so I downed the drink. The second the blood touched my lips I couldn’t get enough as I began to down the drink. Once it was all gone Carlisle gently brought the cup from my hands. “C’mon, you should meet the others,” he said, gently taking my hand in his. He led me out of his room, the three women following us into what looked like a very modern living room where there were three men waiting for us. “Y/N, these are my adoptive kids,” Carlisle explained as the blonde and Alice went to stand with their… brothers? “That’s Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie,” he pointed out the couples, “Edward, and my sister, Esme.”

The Cullen clan welcomed Y/N with open arms, including Bella when she eventually met the new vampire. It took a day or two of warming up but soon enough Carlisle and Y/N began to behave just like other mates. They were constantly together, and the rest of the Cullen clan were happy to finally see Carlisle so happy with his mate after 350 years.

Masterlist

#carlisle cullen #carlisle #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x reader #carlisle imagine #twilight #twilight x reader

2K notes · View notes

alhaithamhabibi · 1 year

Note

Um, hellooo! I saw you up requests and I wanted to give a try but feel free to reject this. May I ask for a reader who isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother long before roxana was born. The reader mother is a nanny(do they allow that?? idk) of lante when he was younger so reader and him sorta grew up together. And then when he became the head, he had the reader became his kids nanny/caretaker and as one of his righthand. Pls and ty!

ᴍᴇᴇɴᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs : hiii darling! no clue what lante's background was other than he overruled his father so this is my speculation of it. i may or may have not gotten carried away by the reader's backstory that i may or may have not create another post for it 👀 also this somehow became an alternate universe somewhere around the end oops -

part two is here

𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

❥ so you isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother's world long before the story started? congratulations! and you even became the daughter of the female lead's father nanny? good luck trying to survive.

❥ somehow, you managed to survive up to your late twenties as LANTE AGRICHE trusted servant and closest confidante. which was shocking, to say the least. but you know deep down, he held some sort of genuine affection for your mother since his mother passed away.

❥ and you two had grown up together despite being in different worlds from each other. even after your mother's death, he kept you around as he killed his father and took the position of the head of agriche. even as he changed for the worse, you remained by his side.

❥ whether it was out of obligation or sincerity, you no longer knew why you stayed beside him. but you know why he wanted you. after all, your mother made her mark on him and so did you. people found it odd that he didn't try to marry you just to keep you by his side since it was more effective. but you both knew better than that.

❥ it was the consequences of your actions, you thought to yourself, as he burned your marriage requests in the fireplace. anything that allowed relationships beyond his family, his household, and especially himself was an absolute no. but that's fine. who needs friendship and love anyway?

❥ besides, as he began to collect his wives and mistresses ( much to your disdain ), you knew the story was gonna start soon. and despite knowing the end for this household, you still wanted to change a few things. and what better way to start as lante made you the official nanny of his children.

❥ FONTAINE was an eight-year-old child when you first met him. to make his father proud. at first, he wasn't quite fond of you as you took most of his father's time but eventually, he liked the maternal affection you gave to him. he felt entitled to have your time. in return, you made sure he kept at least some of his morals growing up. you unfortunately weren't able to stop the rebelliousness growing in him and could only hope he would make wise decisions. ( yes, you made sure to tell him the deficits of incestuous relationships and frightened him enough that he would see his female siblings as competition which is progress at least. )

❥ GRIZELDA was only a toddler when she first approached you about a book you were reading during your time off. you knew she was the only agriche to have magic so the pressure on her was high. when all was against her, you were right by her side to hold her steady. that and you two had bonded over books together. as she was young, it was you who tucked her into bed and told her stories and tales you knew from your past life and current. even as she grew older, she loved hearing interesting stories that came from you. you always made time for her even when you were busy with taking care of lante's work and the children. always reminding you to take care of yourself as well.

❥ ASHIL was only a year old when you met him. sierra was a wonderful and sane woman so you often visited her. ashil reminded you of a golden retriever and you became fond of him instantly. he always asked for your help and was ready to help you if you had any problems. the day you knew ashil failed the exam, you beg to lante to give spare ashil so you may take him as your own. because of your shared past, he reluctantly did so. it was the only way for him to live safely even if it meant taking him from his mother and sister. though the mother-sister duo thanked you profusely. especially as ashil pledged to protect you along with those he considered as his family. even as he grew stronger and older, he kept true to himself.

❥ DION was also a baby when you first carried him in your arms after maria's birth. while she complained about the baby's looks and disappointment, you saw another baby to love and cherish. lante and maria's parenting only got worse so you took matters in your hands and had him stay with you and ashil. he was quite a curious and mischievous boy, always finding trouble to drag his older brother with him. luckily, ashil had infinite patience as an elder sibling and always pulled back dion when necessary. it was also rather cute to see dion and roxana fight over who gets more ashil and your time. the older dion grew, he began to resemble more of his father which worried you. but when he smiled that playful smile at you and his close siblings, the anxiety vanished as you returned the smile.

❥ ROXANA was unsure about you when she first saw you. she hadn't remembered you being mentioned in the novel along with the evident changes. you were an unpredictable variable so she was cautious around you. it took some time but after saving ashil, she viewed you as an angel descended from the heavens to protect them. and she let you into her small circle and her heart. eventually, you told her of your past life which shocked her. so that explains everything! but she felt the comfort of another person in her situation just as she did and swore to protect you as well. despite your warnings, she still went ahead with the butterfly project knowing it could shorten her life. so you made sure to take care of her despite her pouts to relieve your, ashil, and sierra's worries. and cassis came along as the story unfold, he could see how important you were to the children of agriche. you liked to tease roxana and him often after he escaped.

❥ JEREMY was clingy and touch-starved when he first met you as a young child. he had just returned from his brutal class with a harsh wound, unable to hold back his whimpers. you found him there and gathered him into your arms to your room so that you could heal his wounds. his mother didn't even see and he watched her commit suicide with his own eyes as she refused to interact with him. since then, he has been attached to you by the hip. you were his mother. that was what he called you, openly especially since the others addressed you as either aunty or nanny. you were one of the few people who could stop jeremy from his violent tendencies with a word or a touch. he didn't want to scare his mother after all.

❥ CHARLOTTE was easily attached to you as she had a rocky relationship with her mother. you were more of her mother than her mother and she loved it when you praised her. it was a competition again between her and jeremy which gave you enough headaches as you recalled the rivalry between dion and roxana before. history had a way of repeating itself. still, like jeremy, you had a way of calming her down. with her hothead and brash personality, you helped her try to control it so she wouldn't get into any more trouble with lante and her mother. she loves it especially when you call her by her nickname 'lotte' since it was her first nickname she received.

❥ though all the agriche kids were raised as they were, you became their moral support and someone they genuinely care for. it was you who put yourself between lante and themselves when they were punished. and if you couldn't stop it, you always attended to their wounds and stayed with them for the night, as they rest on the couch. how could they not love you?

❥ even lante couldn't do anything as he found it a good reason to keep you in the agriche mansion. which was his biggest mistake. even as his top children began to plot against their father, you also went along with it as their spy. after all, lante was no longer the boy you grew up with and you had to open up your eyes. and if he had to be disposed off so that you could protect the children, so be it.

❥ after the night the agriche household fell, it was you placed the final blow on lante. and you had to witness fontaine demise from cassis's sword, though some small part of you mourned for that eight year old boy you knew long ago. and as roxana's health declined, you sent her to cassis in hopes that there was a possibility she could be healed.

❥ you were named as the matriarch of the black agriche, a title placed by the children you cared for. and quickly enough due to your past experience as lante trusted associate, you began to help raise the agriche from the ground and to a hopeful and brighter future. so you decided to burn agriche mansion to the ground and make it a new and better mansion.

❥ for a future where your children could make better memories in the new home you created for them. even as some of them stayed by your side or went on traveling around, you always made sure that they would have a home to come back to. but to them, you were their home. you accepted all of them as they are and cherished you for it. they would burn the world down if you asked them to.

#— meena writes #manhwa x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #how to protect the heroine’s older brother #roxana #roxana agriche #jeremy agriche #dion agriche #griselda agriche #fontaine agriche #charlotte agriche #ashil agriche #lante agriche

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melodrangea · 6 months

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I loved your nicknames headcanons so much 🥺Could I please have a Death the Kid in an enemies to lovers scenario where the reader is really laidback and chill. Kid hates how they never appear to take anything seriously on the surface, and the reader thinks he’s too uptight. The two eventually reach a mutual understanding that develops into a relationship

Tysm if you’re reading this!!

Of course my dear, and thank you so much!! 🫶🫶🫶

You didn’t specify a one shot or just headcannons so I hope headcannons are alright!!! :D

———————————————————————————

Death the Kid w/ a Laidback S/O

-Kid would not BE ABLE TO STAND YOU at first

-he just can’t comprehend how you never take anything seriously, never study, always forget your homework etc

-AND YET YOU’RE STILL REALLY FREAKIN SMART

-you have the ability to just lay back and let most things roll do your shoulder while he just can’t

-and you aren’t exactly a huge fan of him either

-thinking he’s wayyy too uptight (which he is tbf)

-he’s always lecturing someone, everything needs to be perfect around him which you found to be a headache

-so safe to say you two don’t get along

-until the day you knocked over a painting in the hall

-Kid ofc is inconsolable as he stayed after school for several hours trying to fix and reposition the painting

-when he saw you coming out of the library, hair pulled back, jacket unbuttoned with a decently high stack of books in your arms, backpack swaying back and forth on your shoulder

You chuckled, tilting your head towards Kid and the painting. “Still fixing that painting? I’m surprised you didn’t use your Grim Reaper crap to fix it”

Kid rolled his eyes.“And I’m surprised you know where the library is, seeing as you never study”

You scoffed, “Atleast I work for it behind the scenes, school doesn’t come easy for people that aren’t golden-child pricks like you.”

“Being a grim reaper doesn’t give me enhanced intelligence, I do my fair share of studying like you.”

You paused, “you mean it isn’t easy for you either?”

“It’s easier sometimes but sometimes I don’t understand everything right away.”

“Huh, who knew?”

-From then on there was a change between you two, small at first

- like you not taking every opportunity to make some unsymmetrical, and him sometimes slipping you an answer you don’t know

-you two grew to have a very sarcastic academic rivalry, both pushing eachother to make the other better

-you didn’t know when you had developed a crush on Kid but it was hard not to, he was determined, driven, and handsome. And not as much of a snob as you previously thought

-then you ran into eachother at the library again, you were sat where Kid usually sits

He paused, noticing that his spot was taken

You saw him and start to stand up “sorry, you usually sit here don’t you?”

Kid shrugged, setting his books down across from you, “it’s fine, it’s just a chair. Is this one open?”

You cracked a small smile and gestured to the seat, “all yours.”

Kid sat down across from you, peering at the worksheet ahead of you. “Is that Professors Steins lab?”

“Yeah, I was just about to start it, is it hard?”

“I’m not quite sure, I haven’t started it yet.”

Your small smile turned into an evil grin, “you wanna race and see who finishes first?”

Kid looked at you, curiously. “And what do I get if I win.”

You shrugged, “whatever you want.” You pause, “within reason of course!”

“Seems acceptable, what would look like if you by some miracle beat me.” Kid said sarcastically.

You laughed, “hm, if I win. How about…you maybe take me out to lunch sometime?”

Kids eyes widened, his checks turning a bright pink in contrast to his fair monochromatic outfit.

You panicked, going to grab your paper to leave, “I’m sorry that was way to forward, I’m such an idiot, I’ll just go.”

Kid grabs your wrist, “no, it’s fine. And who said I didn’t agree to the terms anyways?”

It was your turn to blush. You nodded sitting back down. Kid grinned at you and picked up his pencil, starting his worksheet

You did the same, brain turned to mush, you frantically scratched at the paper

Mere ten minutes later Kid placed his pencil down, you had three questions left

You look down at his paper then at him, you frowned, tears of embarrassment working their way to your eyes. “You won Kid, what do you want?”

“Well If the offer still stands for lunch that would be what I want.”

Your heart skipped a beat, face turning bright red.

-from then on it only got better, the academic rivalry was still there but even more lighthearted then before

-Kid motivated you to work harder, and you pushed him to let loose sometimes, creating a healthy equilibrium for the both of you

-most of your dates are either study dates or out to small cafes

-he will refuse to take you back to the manor as long as he can (in fear of Liz and Patty mostly)

-but regardless of when you meet his weapons you’re just glad that Kid is your boyfriend and not another smart asshole

-It saves a lot of paintings from being destroyed

———————————————————————————

that’s all folks!

thank you anon for the request! I hope you enjoyed and if anyone else has requests or questions feel free to get in touch or submit an inbox!

-Melodrangea <3

#black star x reader #crona x reader #kilik rung #kilik x reader #soul eater #soul eater x reader #soul x reader #stein x reader #soul eater dtk #death the kid x reader #liz and patty

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vexy-hexy · 6 months

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I hope this isn't a hot take, but Scott Cawthon is a shitty writer

The reason the lore makes no fucking sense is because he just randomly adds or retcons things with no explanation and, at this point, I think he just enjoys watching people (especially MatPat) go crazy theorizing

Like, the man may as well have confirmed dream theory a few years ago, only to go "wait, never mind, here’s Sister Location and everything is real, I promise"

I doubt even Scott understands his own story because it was written with the same grace and talent as an edgy middle school kid trying to write the next Jeff the Killer, so they shove everything they think is cool into the story, whether or not it fits

People say "oh, he didn't realize it would be more than (however many) games. He didn't plan that far ahead," but that excuse should only get you so far when you are writing a story

It's pretty clear that after at least game 4 (some say game 3, so I'm being nice), he stopped caring about the story and began just duct taping things he thought were interesting into a story that could've been wrapped up with MAYBE 5 games (1, 2, 3, 4, and pizzeria Sim with something in the other four to explain Baby and Molten Freddy, or get rid of them, I don't care), but instead it's a cluster fuck of weird details that DON’T MAKE SENSE

Look, I think a lot of us, myself included, can sometimes confuse a good CONCEPT with a good STORY

The storytelling of FNAF is dog shit, but the concept is just SO good, which is why people like the FNAF VHS tapes so much: these people are able to take a terrifying and interesting concept and make a truly good implied horror story with it in the way Scott NEVER could

And don't get me started on the books: First, they're not canon, then they're canon, but also, some stories may only be canon in another alternate universe or something, but if you actually want to understand something, you need to read some of the books

Your story should not have to be told across multiple different media for it to be even SLIGHTLY coherent. It's fine if you want to add in details that aren't too important to understanding the entire thing (like, we don't specifically need to know the names of each kid William killed, but it's a cool fact to know. Or maybe expand on how Freddy's and the incidents affected different people), but, as cool as it was, Golden Freddy being possessed by two children is a pretty crucial point to the rest of the series to be in just some activity book that so easily could've been overlooked as something fun to do related to FNAF (IMO)

Not to mention, we apparently can't even agree on the name of the Crying Child who, I think, was the catalyst for this entire story (because we can't even seem to agree if Elizabeth or CC died first)

TL;DR FNAF is a great concept, and it's been shown that it can make a great story by people who are much more skilled than Scott Cawthon (or maybe they just care more about this series than it's own creator, I don't fucking know)

Also, sorry if I'm incoherent or get anything wrong, I typed this while I was incredibly tired, but I did try to edit it as much as I could the past few days

#fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf games #fnaf rant #rant #rant post #vent #scott cawthon #sorry but I've been hold this in for so long #I'm scared of the reactions I may get #fnaf vhs

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princessofroses · 4 months

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Harry Potter Characters that Fanon Ruined

Regulus Black: Regulus is an actual Wizard Nazi turned Nico di Angelo wannabe with Snape's personality slapped on him (Ironically Regulus stans hate Snape for no reason). I tried to go on AO3 to search Regulus Bashing, but instead I got bashing tags for other characters and a bunch of cancerous ass Jegulus fics. Regulus isn't a soft boy, he was OK with the House of Black disowning Sirius and he was clearly the Golden Child of the Black Family. It would be fine if there was at least some Reg Bashing Fics but all of them are woobiefying his character. TikTok ad AO3 have completely ruined Regulus Black for me, and every time I read a story with him in it, I end up finding myself rooting against him.

All of the Marauders: I don't know why everyone thinks Remus, James and Sirius were gay (I'm excluding Peter because barely any fics paint him in a good light), two of them were privileged white wealthy 70's kids who were more likely to bully someone for being gay than be gay themselves or even feminist for that matter, with Remus and Peter being their cronies/enablers. I hate James Potter and will proudly say he is the epitome of toxic masculinity, especially from his actions towards Lily Evans. If anyone has LGBTQ+ coded imagery, it's Severus Snape. He was mocked by four white cishet men, was sexually assaulted at the whomping willow while everyone except Lily laughed (which hits home to me) and in Neville's bogart, his form was shown in women's clothing. For some reason, everyone thinks the Marauders were feminist gay kings when that is simply not the case. Whatever Thewlis was told to act like when Remus (I was told he was supposed to act like a gay junkie) his on screen potrayal does not correlate to Remus Lupin, I just want an accurate fanon portrayal of what he would be like without all the modern stuff.

Draco Malfoy: I cant safely say I ever liked Draco, even after his 'redemption' but he was at least compelling enough for me to tune in. In the books, he's a selfish, cowardly, racist, sexist and elitist piece of shit, but if you ask fanon he is either a stereotypical daddy's issue bad boy or in a gay (He is obviously the bottom) and in a relationship with Harry. Why would Harry choose him if he was indeed gay? Why not Ron, Fred, George or Neville? Harry would be more likely to date Cormac than Draco.

+ E n d +

#harry potter #anti marauders #anti wolfstar #anti drarry #anti draco malfoy #pro severus snape #anti regulus black #feel free to hate

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blueathens · 8 months

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Once Upon A Time - Chapter One

Summary: Charles was never allowed to leave the castle, until one day he, and his best friend Pierre, decided to break the rule and leave the castle walls, only to bump into the well-known criminal, Robin Hood, who doesn’t see them in the same golden light that they were raised within. But Charles decides to ignore her hatred and becomes the bane of her existence.

Song: Whistle Shop by Roger Miller Quote: ‘You’re invited to The Royal Leclerc’s Masquerade Ball.’ Word Count: 9819

TW: A direct narrator (only at times, then switches to third person - give the feel of a book being read to you like someone usual did for us when we were children), mention of death, mention of murder,

A/N: Not proof-read or edited. A/N 2: Taglist and detailed references found in reblog!

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

ACT ONE, CHAPTER ONE

(Ah, where to begin? How about once upon a time…

…How many times have you heard that to begin a story? Let’s do something else.

In a far-off land, where – what? That’s been done too? In fairy tales? Ha, no, this story is far from a fairy tale, in fact it isn’t even one. Nor is it a legend or a myth, or even a bedtime story that you were grown and raised on as a child, this isn’t a story that you’ll know line by line, and this is not something that will be turned into a film or tv show.

No.

This is simply life.

With our Planet Earth that holds vast oceans, forests, and lands such as England, Greece, Monaco, Zosnurg and – you’re kidding…you don’t have a country called Zosnurg on your version of Earth?

What about pirates? Mermaids? Sirens? Dragons? Fairies? Krakens? Vampire Mermaids? Chimeras?

…None?

So, this would be like one of your stupid fantasy books then? Okay…well, let’s just get some things straight then before we start this boo – these lives that I’ll be talking about.

(Which I suppose in some way is a story if I’m talking abo– I, as a narrator, will stop talking now…)

(I do apologise)

Rule One.

This is not a fairy tale.

Yes, we have witches and princes’, and balls, and enchanted forests, and adult-eating witches, and even the children-eating witches too, mermaids of all forms, dragons, chimeras, and even werewolves and lycans, pukwudgie, and dryads.

And yes there is a yucky love story.

And yes there are sword fights, and war, and love and hatred, and death and –

Alright, I know this may sound like a ‘fairy-tale’ but isn’t everything a fairy tale? You have two love interests who have to go through a lot to be together? Sounds kind of like one to me…Only difference is that we don’t need to battle a dragon, well talking to my mother sometimes feels like I’m battling a–

Anyways, life is a fairy tale, a rubbish one, but a fairy tale, nevertheless.

But this isn’t the typical annoying fairy tale where the knight in shining armour goes and rescues the princess from her tower and shares a true loves kiss once the dragon is slayed.

No, that’s just fucking lame.

Instead the prince befriends a dragon, and he doesn’t save a princess, there are no princesses, well there are, but they aren’t important, this isn’t about them.

This is about the prince and the criminal and – what on earth are you talking about? You’ve seen fairy tales like this before? Get lost.

I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, this isn’t a fairy tale – this is real, not make belief, but real.

This isn’t so called Aladdin or Rapunzel – I mean Tangled – this is real life.

This isn’t a fairy tale.

In fairy tales life is presented as blissful and magical and makes you want to gouge your eyes out because you know you can never live a life where birds will get you ready for the day. Whilst in other fairy tales you feel like you are on the spinning teacups, and nausea creeps up on you from what you’re experiencing.

(Cause I’ll come clean now, I’ve never had any of my grandmothers be swallowed up by a wolf or ever seen a man become blinded by brambles).

No, these lives I’ll be telling you about will either leave you crying or smiling or perhaps even laughing – but most likely you’ll be crying, cursing my name for ever telling you about these people.

I am not sorry.

But just a pre warning – this is not a fairy tale.

Rule Two.

Don’t worry, you won’t have to hear my lovely narration voice all the time, I chose not to.

(I don’t get paid enough for that).

But when I do decide to talk with you I will do so in italics and in brackets (as so illustrated) – I have a few notes about these people for example how bloody stupid our main female character is and –

Rule Three.

We do not, and I mean, do not break out into a musical number, we don’t do that here. Absolutely not. And no singing birds are going to help get anyone dressed either or clean their house – they aren’t lazy – life doesn’t allow anyone to be this lazy.

There are no such things as true loves kiss – a little kiss is not bringing anyone to life – unless magic is involved of course, but that’s an entirely different story.

There is no happy endings too, that doesn’t exist, never has, never will, people will die, we will cry, but then we’ll move on and carry them with us.

Even she will di–

Rule Four.

No spoilers.

(Now, that’s all the rules I can read in my messy handwriting across this coffee-stained napkin that obviously didn’t contain the pretty barista’s number.

…

There was no pretty barista

It was just Sue, the sixty-old woman who knows my order off by heart, but claims to dislike me – however, she did smile at me earlier after I spilt coffee all over myself, so guess she doesn’t hate me…)

Oh and –

Rule Five.

This is not a fairy tale.)

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

This is the story about a girl named Y/n and it starts with the sun.

Most are unaware how the once worshipped as a god by various of religions and cults ever came around, and just like the star that’ll burn the believers who venture too close, no one could remember how their King became King and when the Queen fell pregnant three times, gifting their world with three beautiful boys.

The first passed the crown down, the third shall remain a prince, and the second is deemed to be king one day.

To the world, this families beginnings felt like a fever dream – a gorgeous one though, and most carried such a strong love for them, but not all, some carried a strong hatred for them and had been wanting a revolution for ages.

A passerby once told his children, after a trip to Eynsworth one spring, that he never had much thought of their sun being a star, he knew it was, but he never felt like it was. Not until he, after meeting the royal family, had the pleasure in holding their second born, a few months after his birth, and my, the passerby never felt so close to the sun, nor did he fear being burnt. In his hands he was holding something golden; something godly. Just like the sun. But it wasn’t the sun, no, it was a gift from the golden beams above them, he was a star. He was their new star, their sun.

On the 16th of October a son was born. A prince. And he was given the name Charles.

Their future king.

Our star, our sun.

It was hard not to love the prince who found himself trapped within castle walls, barely venturing out into the world, but when he does he’s constantly close to his father as they enter new lands (for him at least) where all hand his gifts to his knights – his protectors – with flowers and gifts. Only soft smiles were what he was allowed to retrieve, no other gifts of any sorts should be handed to him directly.

(There were many soft smiles which later turns into flirty looks from those his age as he grew up).

Along with growing older, where falling in love was more on someone’s mind, Charles never become blind in seeing how his best friend and his first knight-in-training, Pierre Gasly, wasn’t shy of the extra attention that was given when Charles was allowed to see the world outside the castle walls. Little winks thrown around and bright smiles whilst the prince watched in disgust before taking a strong interest in the world around him, watching how the clouds glided through the sky, forming different works of arts for all to enjoy, and how the branches of the trees waved them off for their travels, knowing the next time they are seen a new image will be formed, quite possibly a picture of what they saw on their travels.

(All in all, one person stayed on his mind, the one he meets growing up, the other main character of our stor–of these lives).

Once, at the age of seven, he saw the sea for the first time, and he wondered what it would be like to feel the salty air tickling his skin, embracing him in a warm hug where his cologne is replaced with the smell of the sea. He even wondered what life as a fish would be like, swimming endlessly through the waves as it dodged every obstacle in their way. He wondered if they felt lonely down there just as he does within the palace walls, hoping for a struck of bravery to hit him to just leave and see the world for a moment, even just for a second, just to go on an adventure without anything bothering him.

He wondered if the sea felt grateful to be holding such beauty in their arms, cradling it, kissing it, and bringing it deeper into their warmth, with some even grazing the sandy fingers of Poseidon. He imagines that the graze occasionally turns into a handshake, welcoming those to a new view, begging them to lie down in the pit of darkness to try and spot a single beam of light – they never do, they’re in too deep.

Charles questioned his breathing ability, the young boy would hold competitions in the pool at home where he timed himself on how long he could hold his breathe as he sits on the bottom, he thinks maybe one day he could be like those aquatic animals that reach the bottom to shake Poseidon’s fingers. Poseidon’s ‘spot the sun’ game would eventually become to easy then, as the sun would be in his grasp, smiling brightly at him as he whispers, “I did it.” And all Poseidon would do is nod as he looks at the boy’s eyes that (of right now) resembles the colour of the sea on postcards that grandparents send to their grandchildren.

The sun child even wondered if the sun felt any different if he was elsewhere, maybe it feels warmer if he was in a place he loves instead in one of the many gardens of his castle or the small amount of times he’s with his father in a different country doing something of work – which his father calls father and son bonding.

Maybe his skin becomes painted in various shades of gold, letting him stand with a cheery smile whilst looking like a lost jewel in a faraway land. Where he watches the clouds shift and change like a person’s mood and observes the sky’s colour platter shattering from the phenomenon of the sun setting.

The Prince of England, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of many of the Grandale Islands (a group of various places, islands, and countries that the family have ownership over. One of the most recent ones that the Leclerc’s took ownership of was when Charles was just five years old, after a neighbouring (and independent) country (Zosnurg) became littered with destruction, gore, and weapons as England battled them for land. (Charles’ second home country, despite being born in Monaco, his father decided to move the family to England after the birth of his last son) The air of Zosnurg was filled with numerous of smokes that contributed to the deaths of many on the battlefields. An army of rebels and an army of warriors would once constantly fight each other to the death for the land that both kings desired. It was unclear of what side would win; it formed a tiresome fear for those nearby as they dreaded to think of the war becoming never-ending. The fighters were grimed with pain, exhaustion, and their spirits were broken. The war was soon ended by King Raphaël (the father of the Leclerc’s) killing the King of Zosnurg with his sword.)

Charles recalls growing up with some of the kind souls around the castle, watching with a frown as the lower statuses had to clean the mess up, rebuild the economy that was destroyed by the war with the rich bossing them around. He remembers watching them nearly everyday from his bedroom window, or from the carriage as they rode through the towns like Aramore (a poor town that was mainly affected by the war as it was often targeted with bombs for a few months). Most of England was left undamaged though, only a small percentage of the country was damaged, it was Zosnurg that carried most of the destruction and those of Zosnurg had to rebuild their country like the first citizens of their country once did.

It was the Leclerc’s property now.

He wasn’t allowed to do anything about the mess, nor ask to help, or even ask his family about it. All he got told was it was not his business yet and that he was far too young to worry about such a thing.

So, growing up, trapped in the castle, and venturing out as little as possible, he watched as far as he could see get rebuilt, and become better than it once was. Soon, he was allowed out, it was about a year later, his godfather – his older brother’s best friend – Eric Russo– was given the permission to take him out karting in their city, Eynsworth. He grew to love the sport, later watching Eric, from the TV, travel the world to race.

Along with karting, the prince took up other activities to keep him occupied within the castle walls, even going as far as painting, but was quick to discover that was not his forte.

Charles was ten years old though when he first heard of a person who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. And it was a month after the discovery that he learnt how much his father hated this mysterious figure who’s blacked out silhouette littered the tea-stained wanted posters that was flown to country-to-country, hanging round in various places.

Wanted for £3000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood

That was the name the whispers would call them after the fourth robbery. It was a cool spring evening, and the robbery affected a close family friend, Mr Clive. They took anything that was valuable, and when discovered that there was a robbery, the bells of the townhall began to ring, people of Eynsworth then began to venture out and onto the streets in the early morning, sleeping dust prickling their eyes as they stood in the breeze. They were all dressed in their pyjamas as they watched Mr Clive – the man who was robbed – walk around in nothing but boxers as he stormed right towards the castle with his very young-looking wife begging him to do this at a better time.

No, the only good time was of right now. He demanded for the thief to be found, and the King agreed as he stares at the barely dressed man in the front gardens of his home from Arthur’s (his youngest son) bedroom window.

The following week new wanted posters were being sent out.

Wanted for £10,000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief, fighter, and archer.

The days after Mr Clive’s robbery, many more got robbed, some even finding arrows outside their houses or even watched how the thief dodged the thrown slippers, wooden spoons, chairs and even vases sent their way.

Many questioned on the presumed age of this criminal, but they never thought on the matter long as they presumed that due to everything happening so quickly they couldn’t quite judge on how old this criminal may be.

However, at first thought they believed the criminal was too small to be of around presumed age, but as mentioned before, they never allow themselves to dwell on the matter long enough.

The week after new wanted posters were sent out along with a new wanted poster for Robin Hood’s partner.

Wanted for £30,000. Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief, fighter, and archer.

Wanted for £5,000. Alive. Name: Little John. Presumed Description: Professional man around the age of twenty to thirty, who’s a skilled thief and partner of the notorious Robin Hood.

It was discovered that the archer was partnered with someone after Mr Clive got robbed once more. After falling down his stairs, hurrying down to capture the intruders with a broken torch in his hand, he watched the moment he swung his front door open with a throbbing head, as the pair, already at such a great distance, carried sacks of money over their shoulders, laughing with their heads thrown back as they pushed the other around.

On his 13th birthday, the discovery of Robin Hood and Little John being children were uncovered. No one was quite sure who leaked this piece of information, some say that someone accidently let it slip, some even mentioned that perhaps the duo robbed them and then they caught sight of how young they looked, some even suggested that maybe the duo wronged the anonymous person and they wanted to get their revenge.

Charles believes none of the suggestion were the correct reasons.

Robin was 12, nearly 13, (an age that was incredibly shocking and was being slowly processed by the world) and Little John was just 15.

And once again, prices were raised.

“Your dad should hire them to be one of his knights,” Pierre suggested one night in Charles racing themed bedroom, all of his brothers, Pierre and Eric being locked in there whilst a meeting was being held right outside about Robin Hood and Little John after they easily battled and escaped the King’s best men – no injuries were occurred, nothing but bruised egos and dignities.

Lorenzo, Charles’ older brother, scoffs whilst Eric shook his head in disagreement. “Why would someone who sounds like they hate the rich, join them?”

“People change,” the young French boy tries to argue. “Right amount of money and he could be running to Raphaël’s side.”

“The price over their head is a lot already. I don’t think they–”

“He?” Charles arched a brow as he looked over at Pierre, who sat on his bed whilst Charles sat on the windowsill to watch the chaos below him. “What do you mean he? I don’t think it’s a he by how people talk of their movements.”

“It’s a kid our age, Charles, they’ve been doing this for years, they aren’t going to be noisy.”

“Still don’t think it’s a he though. Doesn’t make sense – maybe Little John is, but Robin Hood can’t be.”

“What are you–”

“I think Charles is right…” Arthur looked up from the game device he was playing on, handed by Lorenzo to keep the 11-year-old entertained. “I heard whispers that it is a she.”

“You went out?” Lorenzo’s firm voice came, laced with concern. “You’re not supposed to–”

“No way,” whistled Pierre. “Impossible.”

“Cool.” Charles nodded. “Maybe she can give you all a tip or two on how to fight, shoot an arrow and not be as noisy as a Heffalump.” He teased as he looked at Eric, Lorenzo, and Pierre as he mentioned the skills they’ve been lacking most in.

“Mate do not relate me to those things in the forest,” Pierre groaned. “They’re not cool.”

“How are purple elephants not cool?” Arthur piped in, furrowed brows as he stared down the older boy.

“Are you trying to say you are cool?” Eric smirked as he folded his arms.

Heffalumps are said to be dangerous creatures, but Lorenzo had told Charles about the whispers among the caring citizens (the poor who lived in their lack of riches town; Aramore) that those hunter’s stories are all false, that these creatures were actually rather friendly, and they are cruel to the hunters as they are the ones trying to kill them.

He even told Charles the story of how he even was lucky enough to meet and touch a Heffalump with these three children of Aramore that was around Charles’ age. It was a few years ago, but it was a memory Lorenzo would carry forever as for once he wasn’t treated as a prince, or a knight in training, he was just treated as himself, as Lorenzo.

He felt free.

Charles and Arthur envied him for it, envied how he was allowed to go out and do what he wishes whilst they befriended the paintings on the walls.

Charles looked away from the group and turned to look back out the window only to find a butterfly pressed against his window, his vibrant coloured wings not at show, and Charles begin to hate the insect he was staring at.

Hated how it was allowed to sore the grey skies, hated how it was allowed to taste the sweet nectar of the plants around and he wondered if he would ever be deemed lucky enough to taste something as lovely as that. He wondered if he was beautiful like a butterfly, if someone looked at him like Aphrodite herself, and be able to memorise every part of him with their eyes closed.

Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever be that lucky, so he left himself wondering if a butterfly knew everything about flowers, wondered if they knew which one had the sweetest nectar, and which ones to stay away from, he wondered if they ever felt safe in those cocoons they break out of after the transmission from a caterpillar to a butterfly was complete – he wondered if they felt that change, if they realised they were now a beautiful and elegant insect that everyone admired from afar but were too scared that a simple touch would shatter them.

It was a month after his birthday that two faces were placed onto the wanted posters after they attempt to rob from Eynsworth Castle. Failing to do so due to the amount of protection these places were gaining over the years, his home being the most. A knight caught them, and after a difficult battle that ended with an arrow in the Knight’s thigh, he was able to give the King and Queen a detailed description on their Robin Hood and Little John.

No name was given, and no name was being found out any time soon. But his parents and those of riches were ecstatic with this newfound information.

Wanted for £50,000. Dead or Alive. Name: Robin Hood. Age: 12 approx. Gender: Female

Above the silhouette changed to a drawn picture of the girl and the presumed personal description was ripped out and in came her age and gender. And after the attempted Eynsworth Castle robbery, King Raphaël and Queen Anna agreed that they didn’t not care how this archer was handed in.

Death may even be better as there was no way she would be able to escape.

Wanted for £10,000. Alive. Name: Little John. Age: 15 approx. Gender: Male

And just like Hood’s, his silhouette was changed to a drawn image of him.

Everyone was still in shock about the age, but now their shock grew at the thought that it was a female who was causing them so many problems for so many years. Charles and Arthur were the only ones who weren’t shocked as they collected their packets of chocolate buttons from those around the castle who all disagreed with the idea of Robin Hood being a female.

“It’s not really criminal though, is it?” Pierre asked as he, Eric, Lorenzo, Arthur, and Charles laid on the grass in one of the many gardens of the castle. “It’s more deviant, no?”

“I wouldn’t say it such a bad thing,” Lorenzo muttered, arms under his head as his eyes stayed on the stars above them.

“How bad is it out there? For the poor?” Charles asked curiously, never truly knowing how bad it was for them, only seeing small sights of it when he did go near those areas.

“They have it bad,” Arthur muttered, eyes closed as he too rested his folded arms behind his head. He could feel Lorenzo’s eyes burning into the side of his head at the mention of his little trips outside the castle walls without anyone. “It’s like dad forgets they exist and just shoves them to the side.” He shifts to French casually as his mind thought on the way they live.

“Oh,” he nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes counted the stars.

He loves the stars, truly does, he wishes he could join them for a moment and just sparkle and dance up there as they guide people home, forming little imagery onto the sky too. He wouldn’t want to stay forever, would find it too boring, but he’ll like to know what being a star was like.

He even wanted to know how to find these constellations, he reads books and searches the web for tips on how to spot them, but still, as night passes he still finds himself struggling to even find the beginning of one.

“When I’m King I wouldn’t push them to the side…we’ll be equals.”

“Cute vision,” Eric utters in French. “But that isn’t as easy as you make it out to be.”

The boys laid in silence as they watched different things. Like for Arthur he was seeing those weird dots you see when your eyes are shut. For Lorenzo, he was still admiring the stars along with Charles. For Eric, he was watching the trees wave in the gentle breeze. And Pierre was sat up, knees brought to his chest as he pulled out strands of grass and twisted them around his fingers to act as a ring.

“She’s quite pretty, no?” Pierre whispered in French, loud enough for them to hear, but they knew the question was more aimed towards his best friend than any of the others.

“Who?” Charles asks, responding back in the same language, oblivious to what Pierre was getting at as he connected the dots his own way to form a future for himself.

“This ‘Robin Hood’ girl.”

“Does it matter?” Pierre sighed as he looked up from the strand of grass, only to stare at his friend’s side profile as he babbled on in French and avoided a simple question. “I’d prefer if she’s a good person than if she looks nice.”

“But she’s pretty, no?” Pierre arches a brow, corner of his lip pointing up into a smirk as he hears his friend sigh and close his eyes.

“Oui.”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Present Day – February.

Leather boots walked among the cobblestones, dressed in a cream shirt, dark trousers, and a navy hooded jacket, with the hood over their heads, the two now fourteen-year-olds moved beneath the ever-blue sky with lacy, white-edged clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the blue, as if they were boats safely moored in a celestial harbour, with the singing birds soaring above as they acted as the fishes of the skies.

Across the cobbled streets, critters ran across, dodging the horses trotting down, nodding their heads side-to-side. One of the fourteen-year-olds had to resist the urge to stroke the horses’ head, as they didn’t know what would happen if they were caught outside the castle.

The two made their way towards a concluded alleyway and as they grew closer to the towering brick wall at the end, they decided they would climb over it once they reached that issue. The taller one of the pair, kneeled down first, linking his hands together as it hovered over his propped up knee, the other placed their foot on the other hands, feeling them boost them up for them to be able to grab ahold of the top edge of the wall, their hand brushed against a tea-stained paper hanging on the wall, but before it could move up any further, an arrow whistled past them, skidding the side of the shorter one’s fingers as it hit and wobbled in the poster beside him.

The action made the pair pause, the kneeled down one looked up whilst the other looked over his shoulder to try and find the one who shot the arrow. The taller one let the shorter one down before he takes a watchful step in front of him as they watched the alleyway’s self-crafted shadows in front of them carefully.

Approaching out the shadows was a slightly shorter, and hooded figure, the bow in their hand was still raised whilst the other was over their shoulders, plucking out another arrow from their brown quiver. They stepped into the light more as they nocked their arrow, drawing the string back as they made the pair their target. The archer was dressed in a dark forest green cape with black cargo trousers and ruined boots. Their clothes were already covered in mud, and they watched as the figure instructed with their head for the two to lower their hoods and raise their arms.

“Money, now.” The hooded figure demanded.

“You can shove that arrow right up where–”

“That’s not very princey of you,” they smirk under their hood. “Did the King never tell you how dangerous it was out here?”

“Princey isn’t even a word,” the tallest of the pair folded their arms, muttering.

“Money, now.” They released the arrow; it skimmed past and shot threw the first arrow they released.

One of the two threw a small satchel of coins and the hooded figure just sighed as they placed their bow over their head, nestling it at a safe angle across her back.

“You’re Robin Hood.” The Prince breathlessly says as he watches her pick up the small satchel of coins.

She hums, bowing down dramatically as she grins up at the pair. “It is I,” she then raises from her bowing position and places a hand on her chest as she takes a step closer to the two. “And you two are Prince Charles Leclerc and his…Pierre Gasly?” The figure now stands a few feet away from them now, pushing down her hood for the pair of them to look at her. “Shouldn’t you two be…I don’t know…anywhere but here?”

Pierre mouth fell agape at the sight of her.

“You must know,” she continues, “we don’t like your type very much?”

“And what is our type?” Charles arches a brow, arms mimicking his best friends as he folds them across his chest.

“Rich pricks,” she offers them a fake smile, as she rounds them, ripping the poster off from her arrows as she inspects it, the two boys didn’t dare to make a run for it. They knew the stories already, even if they ran she would still catch up with them.

Her brows raise. “Still just £50,000? Is that all I’m worth to you guys,” the corner of her lips quirk up. “Suppose I should do something soon to make that go higher, ay?” The pair stayed silent as she span on her heel and moved closer to the wall to take down the other poster from the wall.

Their eyes were on her back as she looks down at both posters, they hear an airy laugh leave her lips.

She now turns back to face the two as she presented the two posters to them, as if it was the first time they ever saw them. “At least they can get my nose right,” she comments as she peers over at the other wanted poster. “Unlike Danny’s.”

“You just–”

“Told you Little John’s name?” She looks up, a smirk still playing at her lips. “Thought our little rat told the royals that already?” They shook their heads as she hummed in surprise. “Well, it be rude to not introduce ourselves, no? Considering we’ll be the ones who will take down your type of people.” She scrunches the posters up in her hands before stuffing it into her trousers pocket, she then holds out her hands for the pair to shake. “I’m Y/n – Y/n L/n, and my mate is Daniel Ricciardo.” She awaits for them to shake her hand, but their pair just stays staring at. “Suppose you don’t shake a peasant hand,” she puts her hand down, “proves to show why we don’t respect you.” She spat out before shrugging her shoulders as she too mimicked the way their arms were crossed against their chest. “Do what you wish with our names, no doubt that little mole be telling that King sooner or later.”

“You’ve got quite the reputation.” Pierre couldn’t help but say.

“Reputation?” She tilts her head, smirk still playing at her lips, they thought it was painted on as not once have they ever seen it fall, except the small falter of it when neither of them shook her hand. “I have a reputation?”

“Yeah, the steal from the rich and give to the poor reputation.”

She lets out another airy laugh.

“I’m just doing what the King can’t do.” Y/n half-shrugs as she pulls her hood back on. “We aren’t lucky like you, Princey.” Her eyes shifts to just focus on Charles.

“It’s still not a word,” Pierre comments next to Charles.

“Still don’t care,” she rubbed her dirty hand down her face. “We don’t have people running us a bath and we don’t have someone baking my bread, but at least I know that I earned that bread; and my god do I deserve it.”

“They say you’re a common theft.”

“Can’t be common with that price over my head.” She teased, sniffling her nose slightly as she looked around before looking at Charles again, the one who was mainly speaking to her now.

She noticed how clean the pair looked and how well put together they were. They didn’t look as slim as she did as they were able to get the food they needed. Their hairs were slightly longer than she expected it to truly be, she thought their highly paid hairdressers would be there giving them a nicer cut, but instead they looked like two teens who were just experiencing different styles for their hair.

The thirteen-year-old girl looked at the two fourteen-year-olds curiously, examining every difference they had over her. They held themselves tall, but their eyes held a sense of disorientation in them, it was like they were a lost puppy, not knowing what to do or where to go.

“Do you think I’m a criminal?” She questioned. “It wouldn’t matter if you do. We’re not going be friends,” she rambles. “Just curious to know how you see u–”

“No.” Charles answered over her short rambling, and she stopped and looked over at them. “I don’t think you’re a criminal for trying to keep everyone alive.”

Y/n titled her head to the side.

“You don’t know what it’s like do you?” She asked quietly, and for once in their meeting she wasn’t carrying that smirk. “You really don’t know how bad it is, do you?”

They just shook their heads.

“It’s best you don’t,” she cleared her throat. “Don’t need to save anymore of you guys.”

Pierre raises a brow. “Who have you saved?”

“Eric and Lorenzo,” she purses her lips, “more times than I can count on one hand.”

“My younger brother, Arthur,” Charles begins, “he hasn’t been around here, has he?”

“Why? Scared we’ll do something?” She rolls her eyes. “I haven’t seen him, but I hear he’s with Wyatt and Lando a lot.”

“Who are they exactly?”

“Good kids that you won’t ever go near,” she narrows her eyes at them. “In fact, it be best if the pair of you leave Aramore and don’t come back. Tell those three that too. Stick to your little rich friends and the things you know, alright? And I’ll go home and tell my folks that I hit the jackpot, that I robbed the Prince and his knight in training.” She takes one more step closer to them. “If this was a story, I’ll die in the end. You know, with being wanted and all. They know enough and I’m surprised they haven’t caught me at least once yet.” Y/n shook her head as she walks past the pair. “Go back to your little castle.”

“Huh,” Pierre unfolds his arms. “She really don’t like us.”

Charles shakes his head, “but perhaps we can change her mind.” He states as he too puts his hood back on, Pierre copying before they walk out of the alleyway. Despite her leaving mere seconds before them, she was nowhere in sight when they exited the one-way alleyway.

“Get your Daily News right here!” A voice yelled as he held a stack of newspapers whilst the boy next to him waved one in the air, holding his cap out for change to fall into. “Get your Daily–”

Charles hits Pierre in the arm, nodding his head towards the two, what he presumes, are twelve-year-olds. They swiftly make their way towards them, standing in front of them as Charles places two coins into their cap.

“Bonjour,” Pierre greets with a smile as he takes down his hood, watching as the boys faces drop at the sight of his hood falling, their eyes then switch to Charles, who also pushed down his hood. “We’ll like a paper, s’il te plait.”

The boys looked between one another in confusion before they handed the dark-haired boy a paper.

“Not to be rude but what you doing here?” One of the British boys asked as the other elbowed his side.

“Lando!” He whispered loudly.

“Wyatt – they shouldn’t be here. What if Y/n and Daniel–”

Pierre and Charles looks at one another at the mention of the boys names. These must be the ones that Arthur sneaks out to hang out with.

“Oh,” Pierre smiles, “we’ve met that Robin Hood friend of yours. Robbed us and everything.”

Wyatt looks into his hat with a frown, “clearly not well enough.”

Charles tucks the paper under his left arm.

Lando carefully looks around to see if anyone else has noticed the Prince and his Knight in training with them, he then leans forwards slightly to speak with them quietly. “Aramore doesn’t like your family very much, your highness,” Lando quips.

“But our Robin Hood and Little John have always held the highest of hatred for those in Eynsworth and spits at the names of the Leclerc’s who has wrong us all,” Wyatt continued off from Lando.

“My father is a good man,” Charles tries to convince the boy, perhaps even try and convince himself, but the two Aramore boys just shakes their heads with laughter.

“Suppose she is right after all. All you rich folks are as stupid as it comes.” Charles and Pierre share a look.

“But you met her?” Lando speaks up again. “Like you actually met her?”

They both nod.

“And she didn’t knock either of you out?” He watched the pair freeze. “Oh,” Lando pauses, “I only asked because of how much she hates your – your type. But Y/n isn’t a bad person. Sure, she’s made mistakes – but she’s a good person.”

“Thought you be more careful with sharing other’s names like that.”

Wyatt shrugs at Charles’ pointed look. “Don’t need to when the whole city now knows it,” he nods his head to the newspaper under Charles’ arms. “It’s the headline today – Y/n L/n and Daniel Riccardo are the Robin Hood and Little John. The King doesn’t want this shared with the whole world yet though, perhaps that’s the smartest thing he’s ever asked.”

“So the mole has already told my father?”

Wyatt only shrugs.

“You two should really leave though,” Lando stutters out slightly. “Aramore won’t be safe for either of you and when night comes it will only become even more dangerous.”

“It is a full moon,” Wyatt smiles and now Lando elbows his side.

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“You saying that werewolves be out tonight?” Pierre laughs slightly. “Ah, werewolves don’t exist.”

Lando and Wyatt share a look.

“Just,” Lando starts again, “just return to your castle, your highnesses’.”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

(As long as anyone could remember, it has always been the Leclerc’s throning their land, but it is to be known that they aren’t all as bad as Raphaël and Anna, in fact, they are the only two that anyone could remember being so terrible. His father was a good man – a good King who died far too soon, and then there was Raphaël’s older brother, but no one can remember what happened to him, one moment he was there preparing to be King himself, and the next thing they heard was that he left and wouldn’t be returning and that Raphaël shall be King instead.

Many things crumbled when Raphaël become King, our Robin Hood was about two years old when life become worst, never seeing what life was like before, only knew them from the stories others would tell her, and those stories sketched the idea of revolution into her brain, one could argue that it’s always been in her blood and all she needed was a single lit match to guide her to see it.

So, for as long as she could remember, she always had a desire for revolution, to overthrow Raphaël Leclerc in any way possible and bring back the life that only her ears were ever blessed with hearing. Bring back the world where one shouldn’t be afraid that in a matter of a second they could be stabbed, or questioning if that snap of a twig was a person following them instead of an innocent deer, and even bring back the world where everyone isn’t just waiting for another war too happen.

She wants to bring back the world where others were seen more as equals, the world where the poor was being helped and weren’t clinging onto their last seconds of life, and the world where the rich weren’t so greedy and treacherous and kissed the ground for a man who usurped the crown.

Robin Hood was the people’s only hope. She robbed from the rich to feed the poor. She was beloved by all people from England, and by the age of twelve, she was known and loved in other countries. Robin and her best mate Little John – also known as Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo – are found hidden in Aramore, one of England’s poorest town’s.

King Raphaël has heard rumours on this information, but it is yet to be confirmed to the rich if it she truly awaits in Aramore.

You know, there’s been a heap of legends and tall tales about our Robin Hood. All different too. Well, fellow readers, here is the true version).

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

“This is the story of how I died.”

“Y/n!” Daniel shoved the younger girl’s shoulder who was left chuckling at the frozen states of youngster’s with their mouths wide open.

“How can you be dead?” One questioned, tilting their head. “You look alive.”

“Because she is.” Daniel gave a short glare to his best friend before turning his head to beam at the kids. “She just messing with you,” he elbows her side. “Jokester this one.” The children looked between the two. “Now, Y/n, tell the real story.”

“Fine,” she rolls her eyes, “this one is more boring though – Once Upon A Time…”

(Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo weren’t originally from Eynsworth, instead they were from a town called Neverland – which was a small island in the region of the Harsano Islands. They were both raised in an orphanage that was ran by some very cruel people. They all evacuated though when their country got overtaken by Raphaël.

They all escaped to England; Y/n was just nine).

The Orphanage – The Lost Boys – were a worldly known orphanage that many thought to be a good, well-run place, instead, for the children that lived there, it was like a game of survival. Y/n L/n and Daniel Ricciardo were always trouble, even back then, both being secretly taught how to survive by a woman who was only meant to teach them English, but instead she was their mentor for fighting, how to use a bow and arrow, and basic survival skills.

It happened away from eyes that would hurt them terribly if they ever discovered the truth, whether that was children that will tell on them or if it was Peter Pan and Cruella De Vil themselves catching sight of this little self-made club.

Growing up, they were taught on how to be everything wrong – in the eyes of the owners it was everything right – with being raised with the wrong thoughts of the poor and how they should be mistreated, that creatures out there should be killed, and even the fact that if one isn’t hurt then they will never learn.

Children shouldn’t have parents, and they shouldn’t grow up either.

They shouldn’t know how to survive in the real world, and they shouldn’t be able to protect themselves.

Y/n was told she was wrong in the way she thought, that children have a mind of their own, and that they will all grow up and leave Pan and Cruella here in this huge building alone – Pan didn’t like what the six-year-old was telling him, not one bit, so in front of everyone’s eyes, he bashed a rock into the side of her head until she fell unconscious, only waking up at the feeling of a cold flannel being pressed against her head by Daniel and their mentor – Tania – checking her over.

She still carries that scar on the top of her head.

She was six years old when Peter Pan and Cruella De Vil saw her as their main target to hurt, Y/n didn’t mind though, as long as the other children were left unharmed, then she’ll carry as many scars that will tell her tale.

“My mother wasn’t a good person,” Y/n mentioned one day in her training, when she was just seven years old, Tania raised her brows in surprise that Y/n knew this, she wasn’t meant to know but here she was talking about it, “She – it was mentioned in my file.”

“You read your file?”

She nods. “I just wanted to know more about…I just wanted to find out–”

“No,” Tania shook her head. “You shouldn’t have looked at that.”

“I didn’t think it be bad,” Y/n frowned, looking down at her feet as she kicked a piece of gravel from the ground away. “Why did you agree to do this after what my – what she did? I could be the same, you know.”

“You aren’t,” Tania was quick to mention. “You aren’t the same and you never will be. Your mother was a bad person, I know this to be true. I know this as she was the one who slit my daughter’s throat. But if I’d seen even an ember of that cruelty in you I never would’ve agreed to mentor you,” Tania took a step forwards, rubbing a gentle thumb across Y/n’s cheek before holding her hands in a motherly hold. “She may have given birth to you, but she doesn’t get to decide who you become – you do that.”

“Was my father a better person at least.”

“He was one of the greatest men I have ever met, he just, he fell for the wrong person and death caught up with him sooner than we would have liked.” Tania squeezes the youngster’s hand. “He would have loved you and would been so proud of you.”

“Maybe not,” Y/n shrugs, “maybe not because if he was still alive then I wouldn’t be here, I would be living with him and I would be a different person.”

Y/n was still seven years old when there was news that Cruella’s new fur-coat belonged to the creature that she yells to all on how she believes they’re all bad, and all should be skinned alive, she never was quiet on her hatred for werewolves. It was still the same day when a friend of hers questioned her opinion on werewolves – Wyatt Poitier.

“Are they bad?” The girl shoots them a confused look. “Werewolves? Are they bad? Cruella says they are – says they deserve nothing but painful death. She always said that when she finds one, she will kill it, and wear it as a fur coat.”

Y/n doesn’t think they are. Not all at least. She knows a few, all nice and all just scared humans who have extreme attributes that the average human do not carry, and perhaps their even more terrified of themselves than others are of them, because each time the moon is full they must go through the painful transition that causes others to call them a monster.

However, she was never clueless on the horrifying one that lived over in England.

Her werewolves’ friends never asked to be who they are though, they never asked to be something people find only in their nightmares. Where once someone discovers that secret, most will treat them differently, will want their death to full upon them, and some will begin to silently judge them before a simple hello is ever spilled again.

“No,” she shakes her head. “I don’t think they are. They’re just people who also happen to be wolves. Some are good. Some are bad. Just like people.”

“Pan agrees with Cruella.”

“Well,” Y/n sits up, and leans her back against her headboard of her bed. “They would say that when they’re just the same as the bad wolves.”

The two days before they evacuated to England, Y/n and Daniel’s mentor was found dead, the news the next day insisted she died from the fire of the orphanage burning from the children – but Y/n knew it couldn’t be right as she knew no one was left in the building when she lit the match to start the amber glow.

Y/n carried the belief that it was Pan, Cruella, and the King – who was seen in Neverland earlier that week.

Y/n was just nine when she escaped to England, and she was still only nine when she become the Robin Hood who had revolution fogging up her brain.

“And just at that moment, the ugly little frog looked up with his sad, round eyes, and pleaded, ‘oh, please dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this terrible spell.’” Y/n spoke to the kids as she told them a story she had memorised in her brain due to the amount of times the children of the orphanage read it to one another. “And–”

There was a sharp three knocks that echoed throughout the small, stoned room, all the kids that sat cross-legged on the ground whipped their heads round to look at the door, whilst only Daniel and Y/n had to lift their heads up a little. They all await for the handle of the door to be pulled down, but yet, it never does, not until Daniel calls out a “come in,” did the handle move and the door was pushed open ever so slightly, enough for young Wyatt to nervously poke his head in as he looked at the duo.

“Er,” he looked over his shoulder at something, “you two won’t like this but,” he looks at them again, “there’s a visitor for you,” he mutters before moving away and slamming the door shut.

The pair moved away from the self-crafted beanbags as they moved towards the door, ignoring the pleads from the children as they asked them to come back and finish the story. Daniel was quick to reassure them that they be back after they see who was outside. Slowly, the children moved from the floor and went off to play with some of the toys in the room.

The two slowly moved out of the door, but a hand was quick to land on Daniel’s chest as they tried to push him back into the room before he could even close the door behind him.

“Wyatt what are you-”

“Change of plans, they only want to see Y/n right now.” Wyatt whispers as he pushes Daniel back into the room whilst Wyatt followed closely behind, closing the door as he goes, leaving Y/n outside, hands on her hips as she squinted to try and find this visitor.

“This is ridiculous where is,” her eyes fall on a slightly taller figure standing in front of her, her face scrunches up in disgust. “What are you doing back here?”

The figure removes his hood.

“I’ll keep my hood up if I were you, don’t want anyone to pass by and see who you are.” She utters as she takes a look around to see if anyone was close by whilst he pulls his hood back over his head. “I thought I told you earlier that you should return back to your castle. And where’s that friend of yours? Not out here is he? Better not be causing any trou– ”

Charles rolls his eyes. “He’s with the horses.” His fingers nervously reach to the side of his cloak, running up and down the steam of it as he looked at the girl in front. “I wanted to come back and apologise.” Y/n raised a brow. “Look, I just think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Well, I think we did too.”

“Okay–”

“But I appreciate your apology.”

“Apology?” Charles breathlessly laughs before scrunching his face up. “Who said anything about an apology? I was just saying–”

“Please don’t talk anymore, okay?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she turns to look away from him. “It’s only going to upset me.”

“Well you have already me upset so–”

“Is this about robbing you?” She turns to look at him, hands dropping to her side before raising her right hand to gesture towards him. “Come on, like that’s going to hurt your bank account.”

Charles chose to ignore this as he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, he held it out for Y/n to take.

“So you wouldn’t shake my hand, but you’ll happily hand me things?”

“Your really annoying, has anyone ever told you that?”

She pinches the other side of the envelope, leaving it to dangle down as she held it from a corner. “What is this?”

“Real mature–”

“Hey if you didn’t want to shake my hand, then I don’t even want to touch you.” She eyes the golden colour of it, it almost matching her reward posters. There was no cursive writing addressing to who it was for, but it did have the blue royal stamp sealing it shut. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at it, but she should have guessed it was an envelope from the Leclerc’s due to it being handed to her by one.

As she ignores the colour of the envelope, she notices, without much surprise, that it was made of high-quality paper with a slightly rough feel to it – it wasn’t like the recycled stuff with bits in it like the people of Aramore use. It was just thick and heavy like letters from hundred of years ago.

Well, it be no shock if they were still using material for letters that they once did many times ago, the rich liked the traditional, they weren’t ones for big changes, so it should come to no shock that their paper felt like a rich metal, or that they weren’t even with the times and recycling their paper.

“I wanted to give you one,” Charles shrugs. “I thought it be a nice thing to do and–”

“This isn’t going to be the leading cause to my death is it?”

His eyes widen, “I hope not.” He responds in French, watching as Y/n’s face scrunches up from not understanding a word he just said. “Oh,” he frowns slightly, “I said I hope not.”

She clicks her tongue at the root of her mouth as she continues to eye the envelope and the boy in front. “Can you go now?” She questions, and before she could even watch if he does leave this time or not, she was already heading back inside to the small room she once was in, coming face-to-face with an annoyed Daniel and a Wyatt wouldn’t stop shifting on his feet.

“What’s that?” Daniel points to the thing that was still pinched in between Y/n’s thumb and forefinger.

“Poison,” she mutters, still eyeing it up in disgust.

“O-Oh, Y/n,�� Wyatt stutters, “You must go,” The duo’s brows knitted together at Wyatt’s wording as they watched his eyes lit up at the sighting of what she was pinching. “You must! It be an amazing opportunity for you and, oh, Y/n, you can’t run forever; he’ll find you one day,” Wyatt warned. “Just go and have some fun and do what you do best; steal.”

“Who says I’m running?” Y/n lets out a scoff, which was slightly merged into an airy laugh too, “I’ve been here for the last five years, and if he ever gets the courage to come for me, I’ll still be right here.”

She understood that Wyatt must have figured out that this was from the royals, and by he, he must mean the King, and perhaps Wyatt thought this was a letter personally from the King, and maybe he believed this letter was going to mend everything.

But it wasn’t – that only happens in fairytales.

“But Y/n–”

Her finger slides underneath the lip of the envelope, tearing it open. She watches how the royal blue stamp that had a golden rose engraved onto it and is then surrounded with an aureate circular frame, splits into a near perfect half.

She tugs the folded black card out; she then holds it in one hand whilst the other crushes the envelope into a ball.

With her other hand, her thumb slips up from the bottom of the card, pressing down on the lined spine to open it up. Swiftly falling down like snow on a winter’s morning came two glistening silver and black tickets. The silver glitter littered across it shimmered like those elegant mirror balls found hanging from those darkened ceilings, producing thousands of different circular lights around the room.

She ignores them, but Daniel doesn’t as he bends down to collect them, eyes widening just like his friend’s as they read the same word, however one read it from the tickets, and the other read from the letter itself.

You’re invited to The Royal Leclerc’s Masquerade Ball.

References (in order of appearances): reference to chicken little || reference to tangled || reference to swan princess || reference to robin hood || reference to robin hood || reference to tangled || reference to robin hood || reference to tangled || reference to peter pan || reference to peter pan || reference to peter pan || reference to 101 dalmatians || reference to the princess and the frog || reference to anastasia ||

Detailed References and Taglist found in reblog Likes/Reblogs/Comments always appreciated along with any ideas one may have as this very long series proceed.

Act One Masterlist//Character Profiles//Playlist

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washa · 5 months

Text

D.A.M.N crew headcannons (complete with some memes bc who doesn't love those)

Freelancer used to work part time at a bookstore. They're a huge fan of romance novels. So is Damien, he'll never admit that though.

Has a stash of academic rivals to lovers under his bed in a box. (YES I STAND BY THE FACT DAMIEN IS ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS FANBOY)

Huxley grew up on like farm property and has a pet duck and golden (or some other big ass dog like a great dane or smth)

Lasko uses his air elemental power thingy to blow dry his hair. Once time Co worker walked in and got a face full of water droplets.

De(a)mons don't technically need to walk in the elegy, so they'll just float around. This led to Caelum having this cotton candy looking cloud he just floats around on. It leaves a trail of glitter everywhere it goes.

This leaves like Freelancer sweeping their their floors when Caelum comes around.

Also Caelum can walk, so sometimes he like parks the fucking cloud jumps off it and just stumbles around like a toddler.

Co worker is fucking amazing at parallel parking. Like sometimes other D.A.M.N teachers see them parking and think "oh shit they're not gonna make it" and THEY DO PERFECTLY EVERY TIME.

Damien played tennis back in high school, It just fits.

Damien is long sighted but wears contacts cause glasses are "too much of a hassle". Lasko is both short and long sighted has circle lenses and silver frames. Coworker got him those cool looking chains and he loves them so much (its reminds him of his dnd character ^^)

Huxley loves Damien with his glasses on. He really REALLY loves it when Damien's face gets all flushed when he presses a kiss to where Dames frame meets the bridge of his nose.<3

Freelancer, Damien and Lasko are coffee drinkers. Huxley and Co worker are tea drinkers. (Caelum drink hot cocoa or milkshakes, depends on the weather.)

Damien eats chips/popcorn w fucking chopsticks bc he hates the way the dust feels on his fingers.

Lasko stares at him everytime he sees it. like a judging "wtf" kinda stare

Gavin is actually ass at video games, but board games? Bro will destroy your ass in a game of fucking operation, embarrass your whole damn bloodline when he play uno, dishonor your damn herritage when he plays monopoly.

Gavin can tie a cherry stem w his tongue. It got tied around his piercing once and Freelancer laughed their ass off at the sight of a cherry hanging by his tongue.

They took a photo and now that photo is Freelancers homescreen.

Gavin sometimes acts like a curious child when it comes to certain things. Like being a de(a)mon he doesn't know certain things abt human technology.

Example. He likes flushing the water in the toilet, he likes the way it swirls. He loves keyboards, he loves the sound they make when you press on the keys.

Damien was a "gifted kid" skipped a grade back in like year 5

Gavin hates when people waste food, He doesn't even need to eat it just irks him.

Lasko is the person who buys books but never reads them. He has so many stacks of unread books in his apartment

Freelancer had broke their tailbone right after developing their powers.

Caelum was assigned to them bc they were yes a humanborn and yada yada, but it was mainly bc they were miserable because of the pain.

Yes, Freelancer became Caelum's charge bc of a broken tailbone.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted lasko #redacted huxley #redacted caelum #redacted freelancer #redacted damien #redacted gavin #redacted damn crew

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bella-rose29 · 8 months

Text

Golden Boy

Nikolai Lantsov x f!reader

They meet at the University of Ketterdam and sparks fly, but he becomes Sturmhond and she stays behind.

Word count: 5.3k (there's a part two as well send help)

Warnings: swearing, angst, i cried when i wrote this and if it was on paper it would be covered in my tears

Tag list: @bubybubsters, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @notoakay, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @el-de-phi, @simbaaas-stuff

Please let me know here if you want to be added or removed from my general Nikolai tag list my lovelies <3

(not my image although i think that's probably obvious)

Y/n was early for her class, which confused her. Normally she was running late, turning up a minimum of five minutes after whatever the event was had started, no matter what, so to be early for once was making her worried. She checked her timetable again, looking at the room number on her paper and the room number on the door, then at the time and date on the paper and the time and date on the huge clock in front of her, all the details matching, and decided she didn't like being early. She also didn't like being late, to be clear; there wasn't much that was more embarrassing than walking in to a room full of people mid-lesson, and having everyone stare at you as you walked to the only available seat that was as far away from the door as humanly possible (which totally wasn't an experience the girl had had before).

Sitting down on one of the chairs outside the classroom, she sighed, hoping the professor would turn up soon. Footsteps started echoing through the corridor immediately after she had the thought, and she was starting to get worried at how lucky she was today.

Maybe I'll go place a bet on something later, she thought. Looking up, however, she saw not the professor but another student, clothes neat and not crumpled at all (the ones she had on were the only clean items she could find on the floor of her room that morning), blond hair perfectly styled (her hair looked like a bird had recently finished nesting in it), and bag slung effortlessly over one shoulder (hers was dumped on the floor, the strap unable to bear more than the weight of a single book most days).

She immediately didn't like him.

When he smiled at her, teeth blindingly white, her dislike grew at this obviously rich posh kid who had never had to ask for a thing in his life, and tried not to physically move away from him when he sat in the seat next to her.

"Are you in 'Languages of the World' too?" he asked.

"No, I just thought I'd sit outside the classroom and wait for the professor of a class I don't attend." His smile faltered slightly, and she felt a little bad. She knew it was harsh, but she had no time for rich kids, and he was obviously one of them. Having grown up on the streets of Ketterdam, working three jobs to pay for her family to stay in a single hotel room, she knew how to suss a person out within five seconds. It wasn't bias, she'd learned how to read body language and facial expressions when she was 9, and it was extremely handy for knowing who to approach and who to avoid in the streets.

"That was sarcasm," she said, even though her voice had been dripping with it just now and there was no way that he had missed it.

"Right..." he trailed off, and thankfully at that moment some other students turned up, giving her an excuse to not talk to him. The professor turned up just as the bell sounded, and Y/n leapt up, desperate to be as far away from Golden Boy as physically possible.

Once inside the classroom, the professor announced a seating plan, and Y/n internally groaned.

Please let me be sat next to someone who has some sort of a grasp on languages, she thought.

In her first week at University while on the hunt for friends, she'd discovered that of all the people in this class, barely anyone spoke something of all the languages taught. Learning other languages had been another skill she'd picked up as a child, since a lot of tourists came to Kerch (although having grown up here, she had no idea why, it was a complete shit hole in her opinion). It had allowed her to get a third job as a translator for some offices, and it paid so well that after only six months working there she was able to drop one of her other jobs.

Finding her name on the sheet of paper the professor had pinned to the board, she went and sat in her seat, taking her books out of her bag. Just as she placed her bag on the floor, she felt someone sit down on her left, and mentally prepared herself for the greeting.

Nothing prepared her for the fact that Golden Boy was her table partner, however, and she choked on her spit. He frowned, concern flashing across his features. "Are you alright? Saints, here, have some water." She took the bottle that he presented, taking a large swig before handing the bottle back to him. Embarrassing that he'd seen that happen, but she had noticed his use of the word 'Saints'. So he was Ravkan. She wasn't sure how she'd missed the slight accent before, but now she knew where he was from, it was obvious.

"I'm alright now, sorry."

"Let me know if you need any more, yeah?" Ghezen's Hand, he even spoke like he'd been raised on caviar and silver platters, despite speaking Kerch.

"I'll be fine, thank you."

Not long after, the register was called, and the professor went round the tables individually. When he got to their table, checking they were there, Y/n almost choked on air again.

"Y/n L/n?"

"Here, sir."

"Nikolai Lantsov?"

What? The professor had made some kind of mistake, surely. There was no way that-

"Here, sir."

What?!

Why the fuck was the second heir to the Ravkan throne in her 'Languages of the World' class? And why was he sat next to her? Although, actually he didn't have much choice in sitting next to her, because of the seating plan, but she chose to ignore that piece of information for the time being. The whole class was tittering, whispers rising as they recognised the name.

"Settle down, students, settle down. Let's get started, shall we?" The professor called, moving to stand behind his desk.

"What. The. Fuck?" she muttered under her breath, although apparently not quietly enough.

"I didn't think he'd do it like that, to be fair. I was hoping I could be a little more incognito, but yes, 'what the fuck' perfectly sums this up I'd say," he whispered, leaning in slightly so that he didn't have to speak so loudly. Y/n refused to turn to look at him, keeping her gaze fixed on the professor at the front of the room and starting to make notes on what he was saying.

The rest of the class passed without too much stress, and luckily Y/n barely had to speak to the prince. No wonder he'd sounded so posh, though. And he probably had been raised on caviar and silver platters. By the time the lesson was over, two hours after it had begun, Y/n couldn't wait to leave. She'd enjoyed learning, but having to sit next to literal royalty wasn't doing wonders for her self-esteem, and her ass hurt from having to sit still on the chair for so long. Packing up her things, she turned to leave, but apparently His Royal Highness Prince Nikolai Lantsov had other ideas.

"I know I haven't made the best impression on you - don't look at me like that, I know I haven't - but did you want to do the homework together? My Fjerdan isn't brilliant, but you seem to be amazing at it, so I was just wondering if you would help?" He looked nervous, hands fidgeting at his sides, pulling at the bottom of his coat. She sighed deeply.

"Fine. Just... try not to be posh or anything. I can't stand it."

"How do I do that?"

"I don't know, do I? If I think you're getting too posh, I'll glare at you and start to leave, alright? Then you know what not to do." She walked off, hoping he'd follow. Sure enough, he did, footsteps echoing as they had earlier. Looking down at his feet she realised that it was because he had fancy shoes on, the kind that she could buy for the price of her house, and scoffed out loud.

"What now? Have I done something posh?"

"No, sorry. It's just that even your shoes are posh."

"Wait," he said, stopping abruptly. She stopped too, half turning back to face him, and frowning when he stuck his hand out. "Hello, I'm Nikolai, but just Nik is fine," he said with a smile, and Y/n's frown turned to an expression of incredulity.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, we got off on the wrong foot, and you don't like me too much, so I figured I should introduce myself the way I should have done before class."

"For the record, this," she waved her hands in his general direction, "is too posh. But fine. I'm Y/n, and don't shorten it, because we're not friends." She took his hand, annoyed when she felt a butterfly take flight in her stomach at how their hands seemed to fit together.

"Yet."

"What?" She pulled her hand back. Enough physical contact for today.

"We're not friends yet. I'm very persistent when I want to be. And I would like to be friends with you."

Y/n snorted. "What for? I've insulted you to your face multiple times the entire time we've known each other, despite the fact that's completely inappropriate."

"That's exactly why I want to be friends with you, because you're not pretending to like me. I could already see everyone else in that class eyeing me up, seeing how they could try and get close to me in a stupid attempt to be able to say that they're friends with royalty. You just ignored me, and to be honest? It felt great."

"Um... you do realise how weird you sound, right?"

"Yeah, I... as soon as I said that I realised. But I mean it, Y/n," he replied, following after her as she started walking again. "It's nice to have to try and make a friend. Wait, that was posh, wasn't it?" At her slow nod he winced, and she felt a pang of sympathy. She supposed that having no idea who your real friends were was something they had in common, and decided she could try being a little nicer to him.

"Look, I'm sorry for being rude and stuff, I just really don't like rich people. I grew up on the streets while I worked 20 hours a day to keep my family in a shitty hotel room and fed and warm and all the rest of it, and when rich people heard about my situation they'd just say 'stop being poor, that'll solve your problems'." He was staring at her, unreadable expression on his face, and it was making her slightly uncomfortable. She'd never not been able to read someone before. "But... I know what it's like to be alone, and honestly Ketterdam is one of the last places you wanna be alone, so if having a real friend is gonna help, then I guess I can let you tag along to my study sessions. This does not mean that we are friends, to be clear. You've still gotta work for that. But I'm giving you extra opportunities, alright?" He nodded, so fast she was worried his head would go flying off, and the smile on his face was so wide and genuine she couldn't help but let a small smile onto her own face.

"You have every right to not like me, especially with a life like that. I'm sorry that that happened, too. But I promise I'll try and convince you to be my friend, and then be the absolute best friend you could ever have asked for."

She rolled her eyes at his words, pushing open the door to the University library. "You are very full of yourself, you know that?"

"I have been told that, yes. Most often by Dominik, actually. But then he's always calling me names, so I feel the need to defend myself by making myself feel important and unstoppable."

Snorting at him she asked "Who's Dominik?", and finding a table in the back of the library and sitting down, she pulled out the homework.

"My best friend, lives in Ravka. He's in the army now, down in the front lines. We grew up together."

"Is he posh like you?"

"Nope. His family lives on a farm. They're better off than they were when we were growing up; I've managed to siphon funds from a noble I don't like to his family so that they don't have to worry too much. The harvest can be rough where they are, so I didn't want them to starve. They always managed to put food on the table when I came over, so this is my way of saying thank you, I guess."

Y/n couldn't help but stare in shock at the prince (who was blissfully unaware as he unpacked his own bag). "Wait. Your best friend is a commoner?"

"Yeah. You'd probably get on, actually. Bond over teasing the shit out of me or something."

"And you're helping his family?"

He paused in his movements, looking at her properly. Seeing the confusion on her face, his own expression softened. "You think it's impossible for a rich person to help someone."

It wasn't a question, but she still nodded. Having grown up expecting the least from everybody, she was used to people with money doing nothing, leaving the poor on the streets. Never, in her life, had she met a rich person that had actively done something useful to help someone else, so to hear Nikolai Lantsov, prince of the Ravkan throne, talk about how he was helping a poor family made her want to hug him.

"You know, usually when people say 'impossible' they actually mean 'improbable'," he said, and she smiled a little.

"That's stupid."

He shrugged. "It's true though. Think about it. You thought it was impossible for a rich person to help someone, but I've just proved to you that it's only improbable, because out of all the ones you've come across, I'm the only rich person you've met that has."

She couldn't deny his logic. "Still stupid. Come on, I heard your Fjerdan earlier, this is gonna take all week."

They spent hours in the library, occasionally getting up and walking around the table to stretch their legs or collect a book, and by the time they were kicked out by the librarian due to closing, Y/n had found herself having fun. He was funny, and actually quite nice, and yes, his Fjerdan was horrific, but he was a fast learner, and by the time they left for the night he had improved significantly.

"How long until I'm fluent, then?"

"Not sure. How long are you here for?"

"Three years, apparently. I might die of boredom before then, there doesn't appear to be much else to do, and my parents want me to do a politics course next year."

"You might die of boredom? What are you, a puppy in need of constant entertainment?"

"Ironically my nickname in court is 'Sobachka', so sort of." Y/n reached her door, pausing outside.

"This is me. This is also not an invitation to be outside my door every opportunity you get, alright?" He nodded. "Good. Night, Nik." She opened her door, stepping inside and closing it again before he had a chance to reply.

~~~

He took every opportunity to be outside her door.

It was infuriating at first, how persistent he was, but after a week of him trailing her heels she figured she should just get used to it.

They spent most evenings in either her or his room (his was significantly more neat and tidy than hers), studying, doing homework, or trying to get Nikolai better at speaking Fjerdan (it really was atrocious, which she couldn't understand since he'd pretty much mastered all the other languages). The rest of the time was spent in lessons, or for Y/n working shifts whenever she had some spare time. Nikolai had offered to help out financially, but Y/n, despite her constant pleadings that rich people would give away more of their money to the people that needed it, refused to take his. It felt too much like she was using him, and given how excited he'd been to have a real friend, she just felt bad thinking about it.

One night they were in her room, Nikolai sprawled on her bed and Y/n picking various things up off the floor and other surfaces in an attempt to tidy. He had an arm flung over his forehead, and a leg dangled off the side of the bed, making him look like one of those ladies in a painting that had fainted onto a fancy sofa.

"You could help me, you know."

"You wouldn't let me. As soon as I touched something you'd tell me not to break it, or that I'm putting it in the wrong place." She groaned at his words, knowing frustratingly that he was right. It was annoying how quickly he'd worked out how to understand her, but then he was a fast learner. That thought made her pause.

"If you're such a fast learner, how come you're shit at speaking Fjerdan?"

"What do you mean?" He removed his arm from his head, opening an eye to squint up at her. "I'm not that bad."

"Uh, yeah you are. I had to teach you the word for 'goodbye' yesterday because you'd forgotten it. Seriously, who is that bad at Fjerdan? I know it's not an easy language to learn, but you've mastered the others." He blushed a light pink, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I uh, I haven't been entirely honest with you, and when I tell you I need you to not hate me" he started, looking like he was bracing himself for a physical attack.

"What." Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm actually fluent in Fjerdan, I just pretended I couldn't understand it so that we had a legitimate reason to spend time together," he replied, in perfect, unaccented Fjerdan. She froze where she stood, eyes wide, then chucked the decorative pillow she was holding at his head. "Ow!" he cried as it made contact, falling backwards against the covers.

"Well you deserve it, you bastard! You've been lying to me for a week because you were desperate for a friend?! I would have been your friend anyway, you dipshit!"

"You... you would?"

"Yes!" she shouted, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. Her breath came rapidly, chest heaving from shouting.

"Oh..." he paused, looking bashful. "I just... normally I'm good at making friends, I just figured you wouldn't want to spend time with a rich kid unless you had a reason to. And I really wanted to be friends with you, Y/n."

"Well how did you become friends with Dominik? Pretend you were shit at Zemeni?"

"It was a lot more complicated than that, and no I did not. You know that my Zemeni is flawless," he held a hand to his chest in mock hurt, a pout forming on his face.

"Oh, forgive me for not remembering that when you lied to my face about your Fjerdan!"

"You aren't too mad at me, are you?" he questioned, pushing himself up into a sitting position, worry filling his expression.

"No, I'm not. I just... am frustrated that you didn't tell me sooner."

"I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you!"

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"No, I will," he said, leaping up from the bed to stand in front of her and hold her arms. "I will. Are you free tomorrow evening? Actually, don't answer that, I know you are. I'll pick you up at six bells, alright?"

"Pick me up? Nik, what do you mean?"

"I'll feed you, all you have to do is look pretty and bring your appetite, which shouldn't be too difficult for you given how gorgeous you are anyway, because I'm paying and that's that."

Y/n felt her face warm at his words, and the pesky butterflies that had slowly been waking up the last week fluttered in her stomach.

"I don't have anything nice to wear though, so you'll just have to deal with what I've got and not take me anywhere fancy. Seriously, a street vendor would be fine. And don't spend too much, becau-"

"Saints, please stop talking! I will take you where I want to take you and if you don't have anything to wear then tell me, because I refuse to be seen in public with somebody who's naked, alright?" She hit him (gently), and he jumped back, laughing. "I mean it! Imagine how ruinous that could be for my reputation!" She hit him again, smiling along with him as he picked up a pillow to defend himself. Y/n lifted a pillow of her own, and before long they were having an all-out pillow fight on the floor of her bedroom.

~~~

Y/n was panicking.

It wouldn't be long until six bells, and where she was always late, Nikolai was extremely punctual, and she knew for a fact that he would be knocking on her door as soon as the first bell sounded, and here she was, stood in the middle of her room, surrounded by clothes yet not wearing any of them. She was yet to pick an outfit, and although she'd said to Nikolai yesterday that he'd have to deal with whatever she picked out, and she'd never been one for caring what other people thought of her clothes, but for some reason, nothing seemed good enough.

"Ugh, this is ridiculous!"

It was ridiculous, how much time she had spent on finding the perfect outfit. But for some reason she wanted to look nice for their date- wait, what? Since when had she been thinking of this as a date?!

A knock sounded at her door, three sharp raps, and she knew immediately that it was Nikolai.

"Shit!" she whispered, the word leaving her mouth like a hiss. "Uh, one minute!" She heard muffled laughter (the bastard), and hopped around the room, picking up random items and pulling them on as quickly as she could. Running over to the door, she yanked it open, revealing her Golden Boy, hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly handsome in his simple white shirt and black slacks.

"Are you sure you want to wear that? I know I said I wouldn't judge you, but this outfit is really quite something." He was trying to hide his smirk incredibly unsuccessfully, and she slapped him on the arm, sending him a glare.

"Look, I'm struggling, okay? You haven't told me anything about where we're going, and I have no idea what I should wear!"

"Just... okay." He walked around the small room, rummaging through the various piles of clothes, discarding most and throwing them to the side. "Aha! Here, put these on." He shoved the articles he'd gathered into her hands, then pushed her behind the screen she'd put up in the corner of the room. Changing quickly, and definitely not almost falling over multiple times, she emerged five minutes later, dressed in the blouse and long skirt he'd picked out for her.

"Alright, fine. Can we go now?"

"Hmm?" He turned around, then froze, staring at her.

"What? You were the one that chose this outfit, if there's a problem it's your fault!"

"No! No, it's not that, you just... you look... good," he finished quietly, blushing.

"Oh," she replied, her own blush heating up her cheeks. "Well, um... let me just put my shoes on, and then we can go." He nodded, and watched as she laced up her boots. Opening the door for her when she was done, Nikolai offered his other arm up to Y/n, and she took it gladly (partly to be closer to him and partly to stop herself falling over from how nervous she was). "Actually, where are we going?"

"A tiny restaurant I found on my first day here; the food is incredible."

The walk was short, and it startled Y/n to realise that Nikolai's guards had come with them, trailing behind at a distance. When she'd asked him about it, he just said that they'd always been there, just out of sight. She wondered how many of their conversations they'd overheard, or if they'd picked up on how much she liked her Golden Boy now. She didn't have much time to ponder, however, as Nikolai pulled her around a corner into a hidden courtyard that, in her entire life living in Ketterdam, she had never noticed before.

"What? Don't you like it? We can go somewhere else, if you want? I just thought tha-"

"You're rambling, Nik. And I do like it, I'm just annoyed that you found this place before I did and you didn't even grow up here!"

"Oh! Well that's alright then. Come on!" He seemed to ignore everything she'd said past 'like it', dragging her along by the arm to a table out the front of the restaurant. They were greeted a few moments later, presented with menus and the specials, then left to decide what they wanted. Y/n made her mind up quickly (a habit she'd picked up from not liking being rushed), then took the time to look around.

The courtyard was small, boxed in by tiny apartments on all sides, some with little balconies overlooking the square. The walls were lined with plants, flowers blooming despite it being late in the year, and small lights littered the spaces in between the leaves. It was gorgeous, and she wondered how often Nikolai had come here. Speaking of Nikolai, she turned back to study him. He seemed to be taking extra time to decide what he wanted, brow furrowed as he browsed the menu, biting a nail as he did so. A strand of his hair had come away from his perfectly styled locks (seriously, who had time for that?), and before she knew what she was doing, Y/n was reaching over and smoothing it back.

Nikolai had looked up as she moved, and was now sat staring at her, eyes wide, as her hand brushed his forehead.

"What," he cleared his throat, "What are you doing?" His voice was shaky, and filled with nerves, and Y/n thought he was adorable like this.

"You had a hair out of place, and it was annoying me," she shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "Have you chosen yet?" He nodded, still looking at her, a dazed expression on his face.

"Yeah, I have," he replied, voice quiet, and Y/n got the distinct feeling that he wasn't talking about the food.

~~~

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, filled with laughter and talking, and never a dull moment. There were silences, yes, but they were comfortable, and the longer the night went on, the more Y/n found herself thinking of it as a date.

He might not be thinking it's a date, though. I don't want to get my hopes up.

When they came to leave, Nikolai paid just like he said he would (much to Y/n's annoyance, because she could have paid for her own meal), and they left the courtyard arm in arm.

They were almost back to the University when Nikolai spoke.

"I had a nice time tonight, Y/n." She'd been looking up at the stars, barely visible through the clouds and making her neck sore, but now she turned her head to face him.

"Me too." They were quiet again for a bit, but then Nikolai started huffing, apparently wanting to say something but not finding the words or the courage. "Spit it out, Lantsov."

"Was this a date?"

His words shocked her, and her mind went blank for a moment. At her lack of answer he grew worried, concern that he'd messed things up crossing his features, and she quickly went to rectify it.

"I'd like it to be. You know, if you would. Obviously if you don't then no, but if you do then that's-"

"I'd like it to be a date, Y/n/n."

"Oh. Good. Okay then." Y/n was quiet for a minute. "Good." She winced at herself, cringing at how awkward she was making it, but luckily they pulled to a stop outside her door, giving her an escape. He was smiling at her, a soft smile reserved for her, not one of the blinding ones he used to win people over, and her heart fluttered.

"Night then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Nik." She went to open her door, pausing for a moment as she made a decision. Reaching up, she planted her lips on his cheek, then hurried inside and slammed the door, leaving him standing in the hallway.

~~~

Three weeks later, Y/n was sat at a table in one of the coffee shops littered around the campus, usually filled with students dead on their feet needing the caffeine to get through a class without falling asleep. She had her notes out in front of her, working her way through an essay she had to write, when a book slammed on the table, making her jump. She looked up, immediately finding the perpetrator.

"What the fuck, Nik? Why would you- oh shit. No. Not that face. That's your 'I have an idea that you won't approve of' face, and we both know what happened last time."

He'd fallen off a wall trying to climb it, saying he could sneak into the principal's office from there. He'd ended up concussed.

"That is not a face I have, and anyway, you've only known me for like, a month, Y/n/n, how do you know what my faces are already?"

"I'm good at reading people," she shrugged. "Go on, spit it out."

"Hear me out," he said, excitement creeping into his voice. He lifted the book in front of him.

"Privateering for dummies? Nik, seriously, what are you gonna do?" He frowned, turning the book to read the title.

"Shit, I picked up the wrong one. I know the basics already, just wanted to learn some history really. Must have left in such a hurry I didn't get the right book."

"What do you mean, you know the basics? You're going round attacking enemy ships in your spare time? Wait, is that why you bailed on me the other day?"

"I didn't bail on you, I forgot, and was busy with something else, so can we please move on from that. And no, I'm not a privateer yet, I just..." he sighed, finally sitting down. "I can't stay here, Y/n/n. I'm bored as fuck and while you are amazing, and learning languages with you is great, I need to be doing more. You know what I'm like, always fidgeting. I think this will be good for me."

"One, you need to actually tell me what you were doing to bail on me, and then we can move on. Two, I know I'm amazing, but thank you for the extra validation. Three, why privateering? Why not become a mechanic or something? And four - don't look at me like that! You can't come in here, dump that information on me and then expect me to just smile and go along with it! Four, what about your obligations? Won't people notice that the second prince of Ravka has disappeared, and then not long later a privateer that looks remarkably like Nikolai Lantsov turns up?"

"All valid points. If you must know, I completely forgot we had plans, and I feel really bad about it, but at the same time I was reading this incredible book that I couldn't put down, and then there was a really hot sex scene, and I-""

"Okay! I don't need the details, thank you!"

"Fine, fine," he said, dodging the straw she threw at him. "Privateering because when I was travelling over here, and this is going to sound really cheesy, but I just felt... at home. I felt more like me than I had for a long time, and when you've spent your life cooped up in a palace, although not cooped up, 'cause it's a big space, but you know what I mean," he paused, frowning as he tried to remember his train of thought. "It felt so free out there, nothing but water as far as the eye can see, and I don't know, maybe I could do more for Ravka out there than I ever could as the spare. As for your fourth point, I'll get tailored, change what I look like, keep a low profile for a little while so the timings don't quite match up."

Y/n was silent for a while, contemplating everything he'd said. "When would you leave?"

"We would leave next week, I've already made arrangements for a couple of things, but pretty much everything else will have to be done on the night, because I can't get everything past my guards. What? What's that face for?"

"'We'?" she asked quietly. "What do you mean 'we'?"

"Aren't... you're not coming with me?" He looked confused, and gods bless him he wore his heart on his sleeve, because his expression was so genuine and so lost that she immediately felt bad for what she was about to say.

"No, Nik," she started gently. "I can't go with you, not when I've worked my ass off my whole life to get here. I need this degree to get a proper job, so that I can support my family, and being with you won't help that." She saw hurt flash across his face, which quickly morphed into a neutral expression, attempted boredom covering up any real feelings.

"Being with me?"

"You know, going and being a privateer with you. Obviously I don't mean literally being with you, or we wouldn't be together, but abandoning all of this? I'm sorry, Nik, but I can't do it, not even for you." He nodded, still no sign of any emotion on his face, and even when she tried hard to read him, Y/n got nothing. She felt horrible, knowing that she was the one that had made her sweet Golden Boy look numb inside, but she couldn't take back her words. She'd worked too hard for this life, and no matter what she felt for the man sitting opposite her, she couldn't just give it up. He stood, taking Privateering for Dummies with him, and left the coffee shop without looking back.

~~~

The next few days were excruciating, having to spend all of her classes with him trying to make conversation while he tried to ignore her, or when he had no choice but to speak to her, answering in short sentences. The professor had noticed, and one lesson asked if Y/n wanted to move, but she'd said no, not wanting to give up just yet. She'd be damned if Nikolai left while they were still on bad terms.

After one particularly painful lesson where he'd spent the entire time pretending he couldn't hear her because his ears were blocked from the bath he took that morning (a blatant lie, she was sure), Y/n approached his dorm door, knocking firmly. It swung open not long after, revealing Nikolai, hair mussed and bags under his eyes. Upon realising who was stood at his door, he went to close it, but Y/n snuck in under his arm, moving to stand in the middle of the room. It was a mess, clothes everywhere, bed unmade, books and papers scattered on every surface. Normally he was the picture of tidiness, and seeing his room so chaotic made her heart hurt. "Nik," she began.

"Just go, please." His voice was tired, assumedly from his lack of sleep, and she started walking towards the door. He opened it back up for her, but Y/n threw her arms around him instead, bringing him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Nik. I'm so so sorry. Why didn't you tell me you were like this?"

"I didn't want you to worry, darling." He was sniffling against her neck as he wrapped his own arms around her. The pet name made her heart skip a beat, and she didn't understand why he wouldn't tell his girlfriend that he'd been in such a state.

"I'll always worry about you, Nik, you're my best friend," she replied. "And also my partner, which makes the worry doubled."

"Please, just go. I'm leaving tonight anyway, and I'd rather I didn't get caught and drag you down with me." He pulled away from her, wiping his eyes and going to pack more things away. Now that she understood that tonight was the night, she realised that his room was a mess because he was leaving.

"I don't want you to go on bad terms, Nik. What if something happens to you before we see each other again and we don't get a chance to work things out?" Desperation had crept into her voice now, but Y/n didn't care. Not when tomorrow she would be alone again. "Please, just talk to me, we'll figure this out."

He shook his head, shoving more things into the bag on his bed. He pulled on a thick jumper, ears popping out as it came over his head and hair somehow more tousled than it had been before. "There isn't anything to figure out. I want to go, and you want to stay. I was just doing damage control so that when I left it hurt less."

"This is hurting more, Nik, can't you see that? I've spent the last however many days thinking that you hate me because you won't even talk to me, let alone look at me! You might think that what you did was better, but it's not, not in the slightest. Because now I'm scared that you'll just keep pushing me away, instead of helping fix this, and I don't want you to push me away!" He flinched as her voice rose, but she couldn't bring herself to care, not when she now had tears streaming down her cheeks and a lump in her throat at the idea that maybe he was just like all the other rich people, and she was just a charity case to him. She'd been stupid to trust him, to think that he was different, and when he didn't say anything, she huffed, suspicions confirmed. "Fine. Fine. But don't come running back to me the next time you're in Ketterdam because you want someone to be your friend, because I won't be there." She pulled her necklace out, chucking it on the bed. "Keep it, so that you can remember how badly you fucked this up every day you're out on the True Sea."

She was being bitter again, just like when they'd first met, but now she had good reason. She wanted him to have a reminder of her, and her necklace would be perfect. Nikolai was still silent, stood by his bed and staring blankly at the object she'd thrown his way, and when she closed the door behind her, the silver of it was glinting cruelly in the light of his lamp.

Part 2

#grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai x y/n

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aho-dapa · 2 months

Text

A personal rant on Nesta and Elain’s relationship and how I feel about it

TW: tbh this is a very personal rant for me given that my perspective on life informs how I see these characters (mostly Elain) neglect, abuse, parentification, fucked up family dynamics basically

For framework of this post, I'm anti sjm, anti IC, and pro character nuance even when it comes to the IC

Yknow, reading ACOSF was actually so difficult as someone who really wanted to see more nuance in Nesta and Elain’s relationship

I hate that Feyre actually used Elain’s packing of Nesta’s old home behind her back as a weapon against her, that it reinforced Nesta’s isolation

I hate that we never really understand what happened between Elain and Nesta before this moment, just that somehow someway Nesta was at fault and Elain was ‘justly’ hurt by Nesta, I hate that we, as readers, never even get the possibility to decide for ourselves

I hate that when they do finally talk to each other it’s this:

Elain: “I know the circumstances got your coming here were awful, Nesta, but it doesn’t mean you need to be so miserable about it.” (In reference to Nesta literally being confined to the House of Wind after getting evicted unjustly by the IC, in which Elain was willingly used against Nesta)

Nesta: “You tell yourself there’s nothing that could have been done because it’s unbearable to think that you could have saved him, if you’d only deigned to show up a few minutes earlier.” (In reference to Elain not being able to save her father and implicitly shaming her for it, noted, this is also a response to the above which matters)

Like, the fuck??

Where was the build up to this moment? Where was the reason?

For one, it’s so gross of Elain to invalidate what Nesta is going through, and is also gross of Nesta to place that blame on Elain

It’s just fucking gross all around

And I would have been okay with it, if it was fucking resolved by the end of that huge ass book, but it’s not

They don’t even talk about it, just a small joke and a truce at that ball, and they don’t even talk about the actual painful shit they said to each other

A personal note on this topic:

I’m gonna be honest, I like Elain (to some extent) even though we don’t know too much about her. All I know are these things, she’s someone who was taken care of from a young age, and relied on Nesta and Feyre basically like how a dependent would.

And tbh, out of all the sisters, despite relating to all of them in some way, I feel like what Elain’s going through is connected to my life more personally despite it not being written from her pov. Elain has all the typical signs of a golden child. Loved and cared for and seen as a the best child but also infantilized. She’s so fucking infantilized at every fucking turn.

(TW: A personal note about abuse and neglect) I had the strange dynamic of being both the scapegoat and the golden child to my mother, whenever it suited her, I was shown off like a trophy to my extended family but also was treated like the poison that was causing my parents’ marriage to fail.

As someone who grew up disabled, not able to walk, I also relate to that depression Papa Archeron inevitably has, despite whatever we want to say about canon and neglect

Elain likely took care of him, while both Feyre and Nesta took care of her

Tbh, the sisters’ dynamic is messy and complicated, and I’m not gonna trust sjm to write it well at all

But growing up as a disabled person, not being able to make choices for myself in my own care, I can understand where Elain is coming from

From the beginning by Feyre, Elain is casted in the light of childlike ignorance and while not entirely blamed for it, is also never confronted about it. Elain is doesn’t know that she’s not doing enough for Feyre and this likely forms resentment with Feyre later on. That’s understandable.

As a kid, I grew up stable enough to have what I wanted and then had to live through poverty when we lost our house. The transition in mindset is one I wasn’t one I immediately took to. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go out to eat, no one ever sat down to explain our money situation, and even though we were definitely going through it, it was expected of me to understand that we couldn’t do certain things

So I would innocently ask for things out of our budget and ask for expensive food without realizing, and would get blamed for the guilt my mother felt for not being able to provide for me as she wanted to. I learned to never ask for what I wanted, and it’s still something I'm learning to deal with whenever I buy something or need help

I mention this all to say that Elain does similar things in the first acotar book. She asks for something out of the budget and she asks for things without malice, merely because she wants something and thinks Feyre can give it to her

Feyre never says that they can't afford it or that she needs to buy new boots for herself, she doesn't explain this to Elain and Elain is never given the chance to say, "Oh, I didn't realize."

She's not allowed a moment of growth, she's stagnated in her childlike responses to things both because of the narrative sjm wanted to tell and because of Elain's dynamic with her family.

I don't even think Elain understands money and how it works (neither does sjm but that's a different point). It's possible she sees the deer, the fur, something new and something that they could sell in the market for, and thinks they might have enough for something she wants

It's a mistake I made so commonly in my childhood, that Feyre's resentment actually breaks my heart

That's what makes Nesta's protectiveness over Elain feel both like care and shackles

(Something sjm tried to address but did so fucking poorly, like usual)

Later on, when their wealth is restored, Elain goes back to the familiar easily, likely because she never truly got to have the mental transition both Nesta and Feyre had (and her father was actively hoping for this to happen so he was likely excited about this as much as Elain)

I also want to point out want happened in ACOSF between Elain and Nesta. I mentioned in another post the Elain likely (mostly her unconscious inner child) sees Nesta as a mother figure. That Nesta likely was the one that took care of Elain when they were younger more than her mother. Nesta likely gave Elain the kindness of her mother, the attention of her father, and Feyre was too young at this point

So I think it's understandable why she's lashing out in ACOSF to Nesta, because it's that realization that the person who's been taking care of you your whole life, the one who you can go to and lean on and not be judged by, can no longer take care of you

To some extent, Elain realizing Nesta is going through hell, she has to face losing another parental figure and her first reaction is likely to cling onto that relationship even though it's unhealthy for both of them

Its like a child asking why their parent can't take of them, isn't that their job?? Except Nesta isn't Elain's mother and never should have been put in that position

Elain reacts in indignation and anger and hurt because that's what a child does, and Elain is going through this now because she's never had the chance to before, now she's being forced to

She has to grow up and she's petulantly digging her heels in

On the note of ACOSF, in the scene where she and Nesta talk (where I pulled those quotes from the beginning from), Nesta is not in the right head space at all to deal with Elain and what she's going through

Nesta is just point blank not able to do it. Mentally, she already feels like someone undeserving of love and is a horrible person. She's deteriorating and Elain just comes up and acts like she's not dying inside.

(Fuck sjm btw for doing this to Nesta)

In fact, Elain can see that Nesta is miserable but says she should basically be handling it with more grace. Which, is fucked, but it is something that is commonly told to literally anyone going through shit and by people not willing to be sympathetic to that

(It could almost be internalized misogyny because women are expected to deal with things gracefully or 'in a manner befitting a lady' but that's another discussion for another day)

What I want to point out in this discussion is how Nesta interacts with Elain because we honestly can't for sure know Elain's POV (despite this whole post projecting on her because sjm doesn’t give us enough for me to satisfactorily understand the character she’s writing after nearly FIVE books but whatever. Skill issue I guess)

A note on how they view each other and how they talk about each other in ACOSF:

This is honestly like?? Just a thing, but the implication is that Elain is pampered here, she wouldn't do this or that. It's framed as a bad thing, especially since at this point the stairs are representative of Nesta’s freedom being held hostage and Elain just gets to come and leave without consequence.

From Nesta's POV:

Someone had brought Elain here, since there was no way in hell she had climbed those ten thousand steps.

She stopped a few feet away. As if holding herself back from the embrace she might have given.

Like Nesta was some sort of disease-ridden leper.

Like, again, this comes from a distorted view Nesta has of herself, not helped by the IC at all. It's likely that Elain just know how to bridge the gap between them that has formed.

Elain had been the ghost then, too thin, with her thoughts turned inward.

Somehow Nesta had become the ghost.

Worse than a ghost. A wraith, whose rage and hunger were bottomless, eternal.

Elain had only needed time to adjust. But Nesta knew she herself needed more than that.

It was always that way between them: Elain, sweet and oblivious, and Nesta, the snarling wolf at her side, poised to shred anyone who threatened her.

In ACOSF, Nesta and Elain have switched places from ACOMAF when Elain was honestly going through it. Regardless, both of their mental states have been used to gain high ground with each other in this fandom and I'm like, not going to do that, that's not the point.

Rather this comes back to my previous point. Nesta has had to take care of Elain, likely as a mother would. It's the resulting parentification Nesta has endured.

This is also... Like yes, needing more or less time to adjust in general, especially to a traumatic situation, is morally neutral. What makes me pause of the self woe is me of Nesta saying she's worse than Elain in nearly every way. This is a result of her mental state. But it's also not helpful to either herself OR Elain. This instead puts Elain on a pedestal, in her own box.

WHICH IS INTERESTING BECAUSE BECAUSE BECAUSE: going hc now but, with how Nesta was groomed by her own mother, it wouldn't surprise me if Nesta also 'parents' in this way towards Elain. Except Elain gets to be everything Nesta didn't get to be in the eyes of her mother; perfect, beautiful, gentle, demure, a lady. Elain, to Nesta, deals with her own grief more respectably than Nesta, which is likely an external expectation placed on her from a young age.

There is also the idea that Nesta has more patience and gentleness with others than herself.

Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn't bothered to fight for him, as if he hadn't been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta herself knew she herself wasn't worth the effort.

Another comparison Nesta makes between herself and Elain. Except there's also this element of protection to it. Often, Nesta is willing to be that 'wolf' to protect Elain, the innocent and oblivious. But again, this also places expectations on Elain, that box her in.

"...Go back to Feyre and your little garden."

Again, with how Nesta essentially views Elain's grieving process. But instead, I'd say this comes across more as a twisted mess of Nesta's own unresolved feelings towards her father and also equating herself as him. He was their father, and in many ways Nesta played that role for Elain. When she hates her father, I suppose in some ways, she is also hating herself in this moment.

The unsaid said here is also Nesta's survivor's guilt. I think it's not far fetched to say that (presumably) just like Elain, she wanted to save her father and she wanted to 'be early' to help him.

"She's not getting any better. She's not even trying."

This is also likely Nesta acknowledging that they've split. In ACOTAR through ACOWAR, it has always been Nesta and Elain, Elain and Nesta. But in ACOSF, Nesta feels betrayed by Elain because of Feyre's actions. People hate the IC and Rhysand for Nesta's imprisonment, but this is also a product of Feyre using her authority and deciding Nesta's bodily autonomy with her own 'goodwill' in mind.

And Elain famously has always had a little garden. But it's also an isolation from hurt and pain, it's a place of comfort, and it's always been a place where Elain belongs. This time, Nesta is saying that Elain belongs there (despite whatever Elaim could want).

This could also reflect Nesta’s bitterness about being trapped.

Nesta shot to her feet. "No."

Now, this is what Elain says about Nesta. Which tbh, is understandable for her POV. This is after Nesta says those quoted words to her. But this is also ultimately a result of no one acknowledging the pain and honestly disgusting thing they've done to Nesta. Elain expects that Nesta will get better in an environment that's actively worsening her mental state. The reasons why Nesta does 'get better' is always connected to something outside of the House of Wind with Gwyn and Emerie. The library, despite being close, is not the same as the HoW, so it makes sense that Nesta would go there to escape.

Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. "You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta."

... "You will not go looking for it."

I think this is honestly this crux of their dynamic. Nesta is the 'mother' and Elain is the 'child' despite them actually being sisters. Nesta tells Elain what to do, as a parent would would their 'power' over a child. Except Elain is rejecting this.

This is... a dynamic that is honestly just done a major disservice by sjm. Neither of them acknowledge anything in a meaningful manner and none of them resolve anything at all. ACOSF establishes dynamic poorly and does an even poor job of doing honestly anything about it. Nesta instead is beat down so much that she just breaks down and accepts it. And Elain doesn't grow in any way either. Instead, because sjm and her characters do not actually acknowledge the reality of the conflicts they have, Elain just comes off as more childish and spoiled, which is like, also horrible for her character. A clown show is what this whole series is.

#anti sjm #elain archeron #nesta archeron #pro elain #pro nesta #pro elain archeron #pro nesta archeron #papa archeron

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

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In Too Deep | 0.3 | Jake Seresin x Reader

Synopsis: Jake Seresin had sworn he was never going to be a father. He liked his life the way that it was, child-free, stress free and chaos free. Free being the key word. After falling for you, it becomes clear that Jake is in for an attitude adjustment, whether he likes it or not.

Warnings: no smut, maybe allusions to sex at various points, swearing, fluff and teeny bits of angst if you squint. No major warnings (:

…

Riley has Girl Scouts on Mondays at five. Jake has no idea what Girl Scouts really do — outside of their media portrayals. So, he brings along the next best thing to an expert.

“So how long were you a Boy Scout?” Jake asks as he holds a juice box towards JJ. Bob, with JJ sitting calmly on his knees, lifts his head and adjusts his glasses.

“From when I was five til I was eighteen.” Bob answers, lifting his head to observe the class that’s happening. There’s an older guy on his knees teaching the girls how to tie different types of knot.

Jake makes a face, “Eighteen? — Not much of a boy by that point, Bob.”

Bob shrugs his shoulders as he observes the knot tying lesson, “Taught me a lot of valuable life skills.”

Jake hums, “Like what?”

“Morals.” Bob shoots a playfully pointed look at Jake, who chuckles as he shifts in his chair.

Jake knows he wasn’t a saint before this. Far from it. In fact, he’s not entirely convinced that he wouldn’t burst into flames upon entering a church in some states. But Jake hadn’t ever been a Boy Scout. Jake hadn’t ever learned to play well with others. Jake had been a very lonely child. Loved, sure.

But lonely.

He had his two older sisters, who he adored. But they didn’t have the time or patience to bring their kid brother along with them everywhere. He didn’t blame them for that, he wouldn’t have wanted to bring him along either. Then there was his mother, who practically worshipped the ground that Jake walked on — her golden boy. She would happily spend as much time with him as he would let her. But she was his mom, she had to feel that way. It wasn’t cool for your only friend to be your mom. That left his dad.

George Seresin wasn’t the kind of man that Jake wanted to be friends with.

“Think that little guy, here, would make a pretty good Boy Scout someday.” Bob muses as he cranes his neck to look down at Jax. Jake smiles at the thought, eager for this kid to be all that he wished for himself to be and more.

“Why’s that?” Bob’s surprised at how eager Jake is to learn. On a good day, he might even say impressed.

“Perseverance is one of the core beliefs.” Bob explains. Jake’s confused for just a moment, until he looks down and realises he forgot to poke the straw through the box. Jax is so close to getting it right himself, stabbing just millimetres away from the foil home.

Jake chuckles softly.

“There you go.” Bob congratulates the toddler as he finally manages to pierce the box and sip his juice. Jax grins excitedly up at his new friend. Bob laughs as Jax offers him the dribbled on juice box. “Polite too.”

Jake smiles. They drop Bob off on the way home. Not before Riley has asked him for all of the insider info on what being a scout really means. Bob promises to teach her the more complicated knots on the weekend so that she can show off at her meeting next Monday.

Then it’s just Jake and the kids again. Riley seems to be in a better mood than this morning at least. Jake is terrified that bedtime is just over an hour away, but he’s got a sneaking suspicion that she can sense his fear, so he represses it.

Jake keeps a close eye on the iPad that night and keeps Jax busy picking out a book whilst Jake watches Riley brush her teeth. Riley doesn’t slam her door when she goes to bed and Jake reads Jax a story about how dinosaurs say goodnight.

“Does a dinosaur slam his tail and pout? Does he throw his teddy bear all about?” JJ giggles against Jake’s chest like he knows the answer to this question. Like it’s just so obvious, and that Jake just doesn’t get it. “Most certainly not! Dinosaurs give their moms and dads big hugs and kisses, tuck their tails in and whisper, 'Good night!'”

JJ giggles again, enthralled by the voice that Jake puts on to read to him. Jake kisses the top of his head. He pulls the covers up, tucks JJ into the space themed bedsheets and brushes JJ’s curls back off of his face.

“Goodnight, buddy.”

JJ smiles again. He blinks tiredly as he watches Jake cross the room and flick on his nightlight. He’s already buried his face against Rabbit and snuggled in for bed by the time that Jake has flicked off the big light and closed the door.

“Riley?” Jake calls out. He can see from the light extending out into the hall that her bedroom light is on. “Lights out in five, please!”

Then Jax has speech therapy on Tuesdays at 9. Riley gets dropped off at school and then Jax’s therapist is just down the block. Everything feels like it’s running a little too smoothly.

It’s an hour long session that Jake spends sitting on a colourful carpet opposite an extremely cheerful young woman, making different sounds and sentences for Jax to try to repeat. Jax repeats maybe every one in six of the sounds.

“He can make the sounds, I just don’t get it.” Jake shakes his head slightly, baffled. Doctor Hellier nods with him and smiles at Jax,

“He’s holding out on us. He’ll talk when he’s got something to say.”

The two of them spend the rest of the day at the park, since the weather is good today. They play on the slide, the jungle gym, they head over to the batting cages after lunch.

Jake can’t wait until Jax is big enough to catch with him. Though he does hope that Jax is talking by that point.

The whole day runs smoothly. Jake’s fifteen minutes early to pick Riley up. He makes spaghetti for dinner, which Jax adores but gets everywhere. Riley seems to have liked it too.

But then — out of nowhere — truly a singular raincloud over an otherwise clear sky, shit hits the fan. Jake doesn’t even know what exactly it was that has triggered it. Something about homework. But after dinner, shit hits the fan.

“I wish my Mommy never met you!” Riley screams from the top of the stairs, her fists clenched by her sides. “I want my Dad!”

“Riley, come on — just calm down.” Jake should’ve known that telling a girl to calm down was the wrong move at any age. It’s right as the last word leaves his mouth that she takes her homework and throws the book at his head. It’s his fault, really, for standing at the bottom of the stairs. He’s practically a target.

“Hey!” Jake dodges the book narrowly. It hits the ground in an explosion of loose papers. “That’s it, go to your room!”

Her eyes widen. She seems to consider it. But then, she plants her feet and stares at him defiantly.

“Now, Riley! I’m not going to tell you again!” Jake tries his best to be firm, and it works. His voice is calm and collected and stern. He’s just terrified of raising his voice at her.

“I hate you!” She declares, storming off to her room and slamming her door behind her with enough force to make the other doors upstairs shake. The sudden bang startles Jax enough to have the toddler sprint from the living room and throw himself at Jake, collapsing at his feet, sniffling.

Jake sighs softly as he crouches and lifts the toddler into his arms. He presses a soft kiss to JJ’s curls and rocks him slowly, “I’m sorry, little man. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

JJ hides his face in the crook of Jake’s neck and whimpers. Jake can feel his tiny heart beating a million miles per hour. His brows furrow in guilt as he pats JJ’s back.

They stand at the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes, just swaying and patting Jax’s back until the tears stop. Then, Jake offers him a small smile and wipes his blotchy cheeks, “Still friends?”

Jax nods at him, sniffling through a smile. Jake sighs in relief as he hugs Jax against him tightly.

“How about you stay here and watch the Lion King for a bit whilst I go talk to Riley?” Jake asks, still unsure if Jax understands a word that he’s saying. Still, Jax nods and seems to be on board with the idea.

Jake settles him in on the couch with a water and a small bowl of popcorn, then heads upstairs, collecting the homework book slash offensive weapon, loose papers and all. He knocks twice at Riley’s door and waits for an answer.

“Can I come in?” He asks after a few moments of silence.

“No.”

Jake nods his head even though the door is still closed. He turns and rests his back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor.

“Okay,” He agrees. “Can I ask why you’re so mad about your homework?”

She’s quiet for a minute. Jake understands that this pause is of contemplation, not defiance.

“I hate math.” She mumbles on the other side of the wood. She sounds closer now. Jake doesn’t realise that she’s sitting on the floor too, her back pressed to the other side of the wood.

Riley hears Jake chuckle knowingly. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her forehead against them.

“Me too,” Jake agrees, nodding his head softly. “Words — words make sense. Numbers, never really clicked for me. Until I had this really great teacher in ninth grade, really changed the game.”

Riley lifts her head, “Are you… good at math?”

One thing that Jake is rarely described as is modest. He knows he’s good and he’s more than happy to say it. Those who really know him understand that he feels the need to prove it pretty often. But now isn’t the time to show off. He really isn’t a math whiz anyway.

“Eh… I have to know my stuff for work, so I’d say I know enough to get by,” He explains, leaning his head back against the wood. He picks the homework book up from by his side and looks over Riley’s neatly written name on the front label. “Mind if I take a look at the assignment?”

“Okay.” Riley says gingerly from behind the door. She has to say, she’s surprised that he’s helping her. On the rare occasions that she has snapped at her father, she’s usually faced with a couple of days of silent treatment as punishment.

Jake flicks open the book and finds the most recent entry. Comparing numbers and equations using greater and less than symbols. Jake tries to think back to when he learned this stuff, he isn’t so sure he would’ve been able to crack it at eight years old. Maybe he would’ve, who knows.

“These are some pretty intense equations.” Jake comments. “Does your mom normally help you with these?”

“I can do stuff on my own.” Riley huffs, “I’m not a baby like Jax.”

Jake smiles softly, “No, I know. But it’s nice for people to help. Even your Dad has people helping him, right?”

Riley blinks, furrowing her eyebrows slightly.

“Takes a whole team of firefighters, all looking out for each other and working together to fix the problem. Right?” She listens to Jake’s voice intently.

She hasn’t ever thought of it that way. It hasn’t ever occurred to her that grown ups help each other with stuff all the time. Even stuff that they can do themselves. Like how Jake always gets the car door, even though her Mom is perfectly capable of doing it herself.

“Could you help me with my homework… please?”

Jake grins to himself. Then gasps, almost falling backward as the steady wooden surface behind him slips away. His palm splays out onto her floor, catching himself and wiping the grin off of his face as he looks up. She’s standing there with her hand on the door handle, looking just as startled as he is.

“I’d love to.” Jake isn’t kidding. He’s thrilled. Being a grown man, he has this homework stuff nailed — it’s pretty simple stuff for a grown up, and he cannot wait to help her through it.

He can’t wait to tell you about this later.

“Okay. I have pens.” She turns, walking over to her desk. Jake pulls himself up from the ground and walks over to her desk too, taking a seat on the floor beside it. She sits down beside him, a selection of pens in her hand as he opens the book back up.

“Blue or black?” She offers him both. Jake smiles and takes the black pen.

“Thanks. So, do you understand what this is asking you to do? — Have you guys covered this in class yet?” Jake asks.

Riley’s cheeks flush. Jake’s smile widens with slight intrigue.

“Y-Yeah. But I didn’t hear it all.” She seems sheepish. Jake raises an eyebrow at her curiously. “Oliver was pulling funny faces.”

The corner of Jake’s eyes crinkle. “Oliver, huh?” She flushes more. Jake laughs and bites the cap off of the ballpoint pen, holding it in his mouth as he turns their attention back to homework.

“This top part is pretty easy once you figure out these symbols.” Jake explains. Greater than, less than. The top part of the assignment is just getting used to using those to mark out which of two numbers is greater.

The second part of the assignment was slightly more difficult. There were two addition problems on either side of the circle, the point was to solve those first and then use the symbols to point to which had the greater sum.

“You did it, that was all you.” Jake smiles, patting her shoulder delicately. Finally, she offers him a small smile. She regrets earlier. Maybe hate is kind of a strong word for what she means. She’s still small, she doesn’t know the right word for it yet.

“Thanks.”

Jake nods his head and slaps his hands on his knees, “Well, I’d better go make sure that Jax hasn’t caught the house on fire or something.” Riley nods in agreement.

She watches as he stands up and heads for the door.

“Hey Jake?” He turns to face her, raising his eyebrows.

“Do you get help when you’re at your job?” Riley asks. Jake’s immediate thought is of a WSO. But then it occurs to him that there’s rarely an instance where he’s in the skies alone.

“Every day. Every pilot needs a wingman.” He agrees, turning and leaning against her doorframe. He can’t tell what she makes of his answer.

“I don’t know what you do,” She says, fiddling with the blue pen. “When you’re up there, I mean.”

Jake smiles. Most people don’t. He likes explaining. But it’s already almost eight. “Maybe if you’re good then I’ll take you to base sometime, show you what it’s all about.”

She grins at him. A real smile. Jake decides to leave the conversation on a high note as he heads downstairs to check on the suspiciously quiet toddler. Can you feel the love tonight is playing on the TV, but Jake can’t see Jax’s curls over the back of the sofa.

He steps forward and smiles slightly as he finds the toddler curled up, hand stuffed into the half empty bowl of popcorn like he had been mid-bite when he had drifted off.

…

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#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #in too deep

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beanyboobee · 2 months

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I have been thinking that Noe isn't a full vampire for quite sometime, that even if he is he wouldn't be called a vampire but something else but I've never been able to find anything to back myself up.

Until we got introduced to the story he read as a child, a story he and Richie bond over reading in chapter 62.2, The adventures of Kresnik.

As the idea is presented to us is Kresnik was a Dham that solved mysteries between the humans and vampires with golden eyes and the ability to neutralise other Vampire abilities.

We also learn these books would of have to of been printed on the sly, which again adds layers to how Noe had the story as a child. Meaning his teacher was the one to obtain this tale, which is no surprise when we find out who the author is.

As we know Noe has abilities unlike any other Vampire even outside of his ability to read memories, pointed out by Domi who in one of her first appearances with Vanitas, assumed vanitas wanted to use Noes 'abilities' not just ability.

Though he obviously doesn't have gold eyes or the ability to neutralise other vampires [as far as we know] we also have another mystery that may tie into golden eyes. The fact that as a kid he appeared with a bandage over his eye for quite some time.

and If Noe and Marquis Machina are both Archivistes that adds more layers to Teacher pointing out how she doesn't need to act with her former dignity around him [former as though referring to before the genocide of the Archivisites]

Also the appearance of Marquis Machina before Noe was also suspicious. Though the teacher claimed she was around due to the attacks on humans for her to appear in front of Noe was purposeful. As though checking on him.

I have many theories on this so please buckle in.

Theory 1. Noe is or related to Kresnik. 1. Kresnik they point out was a very kind but foolish character something we see with Noe. He helped both humans and vampires. That Marquis Machina can see the future and create this story based on it or knew the original Kresnik

Which would explain why Teacher knew where Noe was and when in order to get him from the auction.

Theory 2: Kresnik is going to be the one giving this drug around. I did some digging and found Kresniks are mentioned in quite a few vampire media's.

But if we look at the actual term kresnik

A god of the sun, opposed to the moon this may be the first major mention of a character that represents the sun.

Then if we look at vamoire media and its relationship with a similar term

Both scream- oh no. To me for if these were used as inspiration we could see a new villian enter the scene. Or Noe himself of a Crusnik.

We see him as a kid drink Louis blood. He also drinks Domi. He often thinks if blood though vampires don't need to drink it to live. And as we see. Noe is stronger than ither vampires. Regenerating limbs. Having insane strength without training. And not to mention that fight with vanitas in which his hand takes the almost claw like monster form.

Theory 3. Aka my most backshit insane theory.

The theory that all of this is a time loop. That the teacher and Marquis Machina watch time and time again with one thing changing slightly every time. That everything that is happening. Is a story. The story of a Kresnik.

And if Noe was suppose to be Kresnik in this tale the thing that changed was the teacher taking him in. Completely derailing the course his story was meant to take. And the teachers instance on freewill. Is to see if the story will get itself back in track without any intervention. If everything truely is inevitable.

Not to mention we still don't know Noes true name.

#vanoe #vanitas theory #the case study of vanitas #vanitas anime #vanitas manga #vanitas #the case study of vanitas theory #noe archiviste

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greenerteacups · 3 months

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Hi! I made this account just so I could interact with you like this and tell you that your writing got me back out of a reading slump! Should you ever choose to author and publish a book please let me know, I will be the first to pick it up at the nearest bookstore available. I'm very excited to see where you take us in the fifth installment of your rewrite for this series! And quick question, which Hogwarts house do you align yourself with? ∼ Cheers and much love from an anonymous Hufflepuff

You're so incredibly sweet, thank you for warming my heart on a very cold day. Hearing someone say 'I would pay for your work' is kind of the highest compliment a fanfic author can receive. In the meantime, it's my honor to give you something that you can enjoy for free!

I waffle on the House question, since my view on Sorting is very contextual and volitional. Like, Sorting happens when you're eleven, right after you're boated up to the castle in this big stinking display of magical grandeur that's probably shit-slapping levels of scary, and then you get stood up in front of every peer you have and asked to decide what you want your place in that universe to be. That makes for some panicky, spur-of-the-moment decision-making! No wonder a lot of pureblood kids default to the House their parents picked! No wonder Harry ends up Gryffindor basically by default after blurting "not Slytherin" (which is the Hat's first suggestion — remember that the first two things Harry wants to do when he finds out he's a wizard are (1) jinx Dudley (avenge himself) and (2) buy a pure golden cauldron (status symbol). Canon!FirstYear!Harry is like, probably a Slytherin by temperament, being a neglected eleven-year-old child who's almost violently desperate for safety and approval and love, but that's okay, because being in Gryffindor turns him into one. Ron Weasley, in particular, turns him into one, but that's too much for me to get into right now.) Obviously, this all informs a lot of how I write character and socialization in Lionheart. House isn't destiny, it's culture! I could go on.

So like, if you sorted me right now? Gryffindor. Because I think bravery is the most important value in my life, it's what reminds me to be kind and patient and thoughtful, because it takes bravery to do those things in a world that is, frankly, much easier to navigate if you shut yourself off to others' feelings and ideas. But it's also a much worse world. That doesn't mean I'm not ambitious or curious or loyal, it just means that bravery is the value I consciously try to practice. But if you Sorted me at eleven, I'd probably get Slytherin, because I was — without doing The Backstory of it all — not the most jazzed-to-be-alive child, and I really, badly, desperately wanted to GTFO of my hometown and like — I dunno, succeed so hard it retroactively justified every time I was ever lonely? Somehow?? Details of that plan were always a bit unclear. But general "I am going to get a good grade in Life, something that is reasonable to want and possible to achieve" type vibes. Horrendous. Point being, I'd have likely asked for the House I identified with at eleven — Slytherin — because I considered "ambition" the most important virtue of my (again: eleven-year-old) life so far. (This is assuming that I don't run into a Hermione- or Ron-type character who warns me away from all the pureblood/classist nastiness; if that happened, I'd probably end up in Ravenclaw.)

I have no idea whether the Hat would have agreed with me. In canon, we never see it actually veto a choice, only grant requests. Which makes me wonder — if someone asked for a House that they were really, profoundly ill-suited for (as I think some of the canonical Slytherins might have done), what would it do?

#footnote to the last paragraph that I find fun is that lionheart!draco doesn't initially ask the hat for Slytherin #he's so carried off in the assumption that he'll end up there he doesn't bother to ask #but this is draco's problem #he splits up all goods into “things i deserve” and “things i don't deserve”#so as a kid it doesn't occur to him that he doesn't “deserve” to be in slytherin #and that the hat wouldn't as such immediately acknowledge that fact #which of course. prevents him from actually. yknow. asking for it.#blessed little idiot. see? do you see how asking nicely could have improved your life??#another possible subtitle for LH tbh.#greenteacup asks

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xxstorywriterxx · 9 months

Text

Your local barista / Part 6

Larissa Weems x fem reader fanfiction

You´re a barista working at Weathervane. A tall blonde, beautiful woman comes in from time to time to get a coffee and talk to you. She seems nice at first but after a while you find yourself wondering if you could become more than friends?

Thank you so much for your support! I´ll try to post updates every week!

Link to the following chapter is at the bottom.

Warnings: fluff, sexual thoughts, intense kissing, drinking alcohol (in a controlled manner)

You arrived at Nevermore at 6pm, perfectly on time. You opened the car door, thanked your Uber and turned around. Nevermore was huge and beautiful, just like the woman standing in front of the school. The principal wore a white dress that revealed her curves. Her blonde hair looked perfect with all the pins in it and her red lipstick was even more prominent than usual, really sticking out from the dress. Larissa looked at you with a big smile. "Welcome to Nevermore, Darling!" She gestured at the school with an outstreched arm. Her white teeth reflected the sun light. "Wow. What a gorgeous building! I would have wanted to visit that school as a kid, no doubt. I still kinda want to." Larissa chuckled and put an arm around your shoulders. "Let me give you a tour."

She showed you the entire school, the green-houses, the classrooms and the grounds, which included a big, dark lake. You were amazed by the architecture and really considered working there as a teacher once you were finished with school. "This place is amazing! Working here must be great. It´s like all the magic schools I´ve read books about as a child." Larissa smiled at you. "I assume it seems 'magical' for a lot of people. But to me it´s just home. I went here as a teenager and now I work and live here. Nevermore has been my home for as long as I can remember." You couldn´t help but feel a bit sorry for Larissa. Calling a school 'home' was something you would never do. Eventhough you had problems at home when you were a child, you were still able to call it a 'home'. Larissa didn´t seem to be bothered though. You walked down a corridor and stopped at a huge black door with golden details. A sign on the door said 'Principal Weems'. "And this, my Love," Larissa opened the door "is where I live." You walked into her office and your jaw dropped. The room was huge with a big fireplace to your left and a big brown desk was placed in the back of it. Multiple comfortable looking chairs and sofas were placed in every corner and in front of her desk. Larissa noticed your amazement and walked passed you. She opened another door which lead to an apartment. It was big with lots of windows that were covered with black curtains. You were standing in the living room that contained two big sofas, an armchair and a big TV screen hanging above a fireplace, smaller than the one in the office. It smelled like vanilla. "My entire home could fit in your living room Larissa. This is insane. I´m not jealous of course… well, maybe a bit." You smiled at Larissa, who had started to laugh. She grabbed you by the waist and turned your body facing hers. "The size of a home doesn´t matter, Darling. It´s all about who you get to share it with." She grabbed your chin softly and made you look into her eyes. Then she kissed you. At first very gentle but it turned more passionate very quickly. She pulled you against her body and you stroke over her breathtaking curves, stopping just above her ass. Your tounges played with each other while you kissed and you felt yourself getting very hot. When you finally let go of each other you were both panting with red, hot faces. "Oh, wait a second." Larissa reached out an arm and brushed aways some lipstick stains on your face. "There you go, Darling. All pretty again." She smiled lovingly at you. "Thanks," you said, still out of breath. Larissa chuckled and turned around. "Sit down and get comfortable. I´ll get us something to drink." You nodded and sat on the sofa facing the fireplace. A big white rug was laying in front of it. What would it be like lay on it with Larissa? While a hot fire was burning and the two of you were-

"There you go." Larissa sat down on the sofa sideways and handed you a glass with sparkling water in it. You drank it, thirsty from all the excitement. Larissa took a few sips from her own and placed it on a small coffee table next to the sofa. Then she put one hand on your thigh. "I´m glad you´re here today, my Love." She looked at you lovingly. You blushed and smiled at her. "So am I." You reached out a hand and stroke over Larissas right cheek. She looked surprised at first, but then she closed her eyes and relaxed. She loved the touch of your soft fingers against her skin. You could tell she wasn´t used to being touched so gently and it really hurt you. Someone as lovable deserved any kind of affection they could get. You were going to admire and care for her always, you said to yourself. Larissa opened her eyes to look at you. Then she moved closer to you and placed her head in the crook of your neck. Her hot breath tickled and her styled hair stroke softly against your cheek. Warmth spread in your chest and you couldn´t help but smile. You wrapped your arms around Larissa and held her. You didn´t now how much time had passed when Larissa freed herself from your grip to gaze at you. "Are you hungry?" You barely ate the entire day because you were so nervous about meeting Larissa. You felt your stomach being empty and craving food. "Uh, yes. I guess I am." Larissa nodded and got up. "Do you wanna eat Pizza? I prepared a dough and we can choose our toppings ourselves?" She held out a hand for you to grab. "Ooh, you are a well-prepared woman, I see." You winked at her and she grinned at you. "I am indeed." You walked into her kitchen, which was next to the living room.

Making a Pizza with Larissa was hilarious. 1 she looked very displaced in her elegant outfit while she was rolling the dough and putting tomatosauce on it and 2 you both couldn´t help but tease each other the entire time. It started off with you accidentally spilling some sauce in Larissas hand and turned into a small fight. You tried to ruin each others Pizzas, putting too much pepper and way too less cheese on it and you both ended up having tomatsauce on your face, your clothes and on the floor. Your Pizzas looked horrible and were half-finished while you sat on the floor, breathing heavily and laughing uncontrollably. You wiped tears of laughter from your face and Larissa placed her head on top of yours, still panting. "I can´t remember the last time I had this much fun," she said, trying to control her laughter. "Me neither," you chuckled. You moved your head and looked her in the eyes, then you kissed her. The taste of strawberries was still on her lips, probably caused by a lipbalm she used. It was very difficult to not get addicted to the taste and feeling of her lips. She leaned forward and kissed you more passionately. She went trough your hair and you cupped one side of her face, one of your hands stroking her hips again. Just when you got really hot again, Larissa pulled back. "I really think we should eat first," she said out of breath. You wanted to tease her but she raised a hand, telling you to stop. "Food, I mean." You both laughed and got up, trying to fix your Pizzas. Afterwards you cleaned yourself up a bit. When you were finished you headed back into the living room, opened a bottle of wine and turned on the TV. You were watching a movie while eating and when you were finished you cuddled up under a blanket.

You felt incredibly comfortable and safe being cuddled up to Larissa. She held you in her arms and rested her head on yours. Just a few hours ago you thought you would never be close to her again and now you were closer to her than ever. "Y/n?" You were half-asleep while watching the movie when Larissa spoke to you. It was just so warm and comfortable in her arms. "Yes?" Larissa moved away from you to look in your face. "You seem tired. Do you want to head home once the movie is finished?" You had trouble thinking because once again you were lost in her beautiful blue eyes. She looked at you so caring and loving, like no one before. Just when you wanted to answer, Larissa started talking again. "Or you could stay here of course." She chuckled but when she said it, she seemed to be serious about her offer. She avoided looking into your face. "Sure. If you don´t mind." Larissa looked at you, suprised. "Are you sure?" You smiled at her. "Yes, I am." She looked at you for a few seconds then she started to smile as well. "Great, Darling. I have everything prepared already so if you need anything-" "Wait. You were planning to have me stay over?" You chuckled at Larissa blushing. "I just wanted to be able to present mutliple options for you, that´s all." "Suuuure," you laughed. "You just wanted me to sleep with you, be honest," you teased her. "Oh, stop it." Both of you laughed and Larissa gave you a tight hug. “I would never do anything you’re not comfortable with.” You breathed in her wonderful scent. “I know.” Then you slightly pushed her away to look in her eyes. She looked so pretty. “Have I ever told you that your the most beautiful person I know? Like, you’re breathtaking.” Larissa’s eyes were widened. She looked surprised and didn’t know what to say. You could tell this was completely new to her. “Th- Thank you, Darling.” You saw her eyes getting watery and before you knew Larissa grabbed your face and kissed you. It was hot and passionate. Something had changed. All of the sudden Larissa didn’t try to control herself anymore. She wanted you. When your tongues interlocked she removed her hands from your face and placed one of them on your hips the other one on your inner thigh. Her touch was electrifying. You got goosebumps all over your body when she moved her hand up your thigh. You stroke over her curves up to her breasts. “Are you ok with this?” You asked, pausing from kissing. “Yes, I am. Are you?” “Yes.” You weren’t able to talk. Once you made sure you were comfortable it got even more intense. Larissa moved forward and pushed you on your back. She was on top of you, both your hands were touching each other uncontrollably.

The movie in the background was completely forgotten. The only thing that mattered were the two of you kissing, hugging and touching. Larissa placed herself between your legs. You didn’t want to stop. You wanted continue whatever-this-was forever. Feeling her hot body being so close to you made you feel like you were going crazy. You couldn’t tear your lips apart. You were both panting when Larissa pulled back. Her lipstick was faded, a few hair strains were falling in her face and her dress was half unzipped. “Do you want to continue? I mean… would you be ready to take it further?” You looked her deep in the eyes. They were dark and lustful. Usually it took you some time to feel comfortable enough to sleep with someone. But you’ve known Larissa for so long. You wanted her for so long. All you could think about was being intimate with her and it drove you crazy. You looked her up and down, then you answered confidently. “Yes, I am.”

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