#ignore that see he befriended some birds :)

[valentimmy]

rebirth launch day yay !!!

#timmy draws stuff #fanart #digital art #my art #ff7 #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #ff7 rebirth #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7r #I hate rendering this guy please ignore how the background looks #blood #<- ?? idk the background is supposed to be like Jenova tentacles or something #ignore that see he befriended some birds :) #im genuinely so excited about this game I’m trying to be normal rn but I am Failing I fear.

[beachylupin]

Harvest Moon || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader

it's finally here! here’s the moodboard to go with it! i worked far too hard on this so please let me know if you like it or if you want to see more of her! <3 to preface: this part takes place in roughly september :-) pt. 2 here word count: 4.6k warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, maybe like two swear words, fluffy, some pining, quickly edited

You and Lily went to primary school together. Your mum and dad loved her like she was their own, and even though she had loving parents, she would often spend a lot of her evenings after school and summers at your house, evading Petunia’s constant need to bully her. The two of you were like sisters: sharing secrets, having constant sleepovers, playing pretend.

However, there was something different about her that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Petunia incessantly told you that Lily was a witch, but you didn’t believe her. Why would you believe someone who hated the girl that you loved so dearly? Lily wasn’t green or wicked, and she didn’t have a wart growing on the end of her nose. That’s all witches were to you back then, and Lily was the opposite. She was radiant and kind, like sunlight on a dark day. She was your best friend, not some evil hag.

It wasn’t until a giggling Lily appeared on your doorstep the July before you turned eleven.

“Look!” She said, shoving an odd letter into your hand. “It’s for a place called Hogwarts! Go on! Read it!”

She eagerly watched you read it out loud. “Dear Miss Evans. You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You couldn’t believe it. Lily, the radiant girl, was actually a witch. Petunia was right all along, and that September, Lily left to go to this magical school.

When Lily came home, she had befriended the greasy haired boy from down the street that you had only known as “snipe” from the kids at school, saying he looked close to the little bird that shared the name. You were willing to share her, seeing as he had no other options for friends, but he tried to take Lily away from you completely, saying she was his kind. Of course, Lily didn’t stand for this and split her time with the two of you equally.

As the years went on, the more you grew to dislike Severus. It was almost like he had a vendetta against you because you were Lily’s friend before she was his, or something like that. Whatever it was, you kept your head high whenever you saw him, ignoring his constant “filthy muggle” comments, and greeting him with a nice, “Hi, Severus! It’s so wonderful to see you again!”

His possessiveness didn’t seem to matter in the long run because Lily came back from her fifth year at this magical school gushing to you about some bloke named James. He was all she ever talked about. James, James, James.

“He’s annoying, and kind of a prick, but God, I just love looking at him…”

You felt like her real sister as you cursed Lily under your breath the entire way to the reception tent next to Potter Manor. She didn’t invite anyone else in your family to her wedding except you.

Sure, you were the only one to really know Lily, but a quick explanation, and your mum wouldn’t have asked any questions.

It wouldn’t have been that simple, you decided, when you saw the actual wedding. James and Lily took part in what the pixie-haired girl sitting next to you called the “Unbreakable Vow” in which they used wands to seal their promise to marriage. If one of them were to break this vow, they would die, the girl explained. It sounded intense, but as a hopeless romantic, it was one of the most beautiful sentiments of love you had ever seen.

Their vow keepers were the best man and maid of honor. The best man wore flamboyant plum dress robes with jewels adoring the lapels. He had shoulder-length, raven-colored hair and the biggest smile you had ever seen. He didn’t let the smile drop once. The maid of honor wore a pretty sapphire blue dress that complemented her skin tone very well. She wore her curls in a high bun, curly bangs framing her face.

James and Lily looked magnificent. James had on maroon dress robes that nearly matched his best man’s, but they were more humble with gold accents rather than the gaudy jewels the other man chose. Lily wore an ivory dress that flowed off her body like it was made of water. It had lace cap sleeves, and a bodice that contoured to her small shape. Every step she took, the ground blossomed with small lilies. 

The more you looked around, the more you realized that everyone dressed insanely nice. You felt self conscious seeing that other people around went “all out” for this wedding: beautiful gowns and tea-length dresses of all colors of the rainbow, and the fanciest dress-robes you had ever seen adorned with silver, gold, and jewels. Obviously, you thought, they had gotten their clothes enchanted, seeing a special tailor to look as amazing as they did. 

You got to work with Primark and Harrods, and since you didn’t have the luxury of getting something custom made by a literal wizard, you looked simple. You wore your hair down your back in loose waves, a plunging rose colored dress, and nude heels. In any wizard’s eyes, you’d look plain, unwilling to flaunt your nonexistent wealth through fancy clothes.

While the other people were nice and smiled widely at you as you walked past, you could tell that they knew you were different. It was in the hushing of their voices as you passed, and the way they looked at you like you had something growing out of the top of your head.

As far as you could tell, you were the only outsider in a sea of people that seemed to know each other. They all mingled, hugging and kissing each other like none of them expected this type of occasion, which baffled you.

Lily and James were made for one another. Even though James was quite literally Lily’s opposite, they worked. They fit together like two fiery puzzle pieces. You couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t be expecting their wedding.

You self-consciously raked a hand through your hair, taking extra care to not snag any of it on your fingers, and looked at the table spots on the board next to the giant tent, desperately searching for your name. When you found it at table nine, you walked, head down, into the tent to sit down.

You took your seat in the nearly empty tent, pouring yourself a generous amount of the table wine, and drank it down. You sighed, taking a breath for what felt like the first time in an hour.

You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself shy, but in this specific scenario, you felt yourself clamming up. These people, the party; it was all overwhelming. It was so different from the normal, non-magical life you were used to. You were normally willing to talk to just about anyone, but feeling underdressed at a huge wedding where you thought you were the only outsider left you feeling less than worthy.

You poured yourself another glass of wine and took a butter mint, popping it into your mouth. You sucked on it, looking around the slow-to-fill tent to catch a man glancing at you.

He was tall, lanky, and just so happened to be one of the most normally dressed people you had seen all evening. He wore a creamy brown sweater, with darker brown slacks, and a jacket that matched. From where you sat, you could see the faintest stubble on his cheeks and around his mouth. He was leaning on a cane, but didn’t seem to look any older than you since he had sandy brown hair that was long and swept off to the side with not a grey in sight.

A chill ran through you, and you looked away, feeling your face flush. He was handsome, and you decided then and there that at one point during this strange reception, you would talk to him. Needing the eventual confidence, you took another sip, glancing to see if he was still standing there, but he wasn’t.

“So you were the name I didn’t recognize,” said a voice from behind you, followed by a mention of your name.

“Oh!” You nearly jumped out of your skin, setting your wine down before you dropped it on your lap.

“I’m sorry, love! I didn’t mean to startle you!” He gushed, patting your shoulder as he pulled out the chair next to you to sit.

Embarrassed at the way his hand made your shoulder burn, you huffed, “You didn’t startle-”

You turned to look at him, your mouth turning bone dry despite the mint you had been sucking on.

It was the same man that had been staring at you before. Closer up, you could see that he had jagged white lines covering his face. A fresh scratch worked its way down his cheek, sure to leave a scar to match the rest of them. If you looked closer, you could see the tip of a wand sticking out of his jacket pocket. You were wrong.

You blinked, realizing you had been trying to figure out how to melt inside the chocolate that his eyes resembled. You swallowed the mint thickly. “Sorry, um-” you said sheepishly, tucking hair behind your pink-tipped ears. “What did you say your name was?”

You suddenly felt drunk, butterflies filling your belly with tenacity, but your mouth was so dry that you had to take another sip of wine before saying anything else.

“I didn’t,” he said, sitting. “I’m Remus.” He stuck his hand out to capture yours in his with a quick shake. Your eyes flicked to his hand, seeing if it was on fire. He was looking too, your gaze captured in the middle when you both looked up at each other. You pulled your hands away at the same time, Remus making himself busy by hanging his coat and cane on the back of his chair, a smile lingering on his lips.

You stared at the plate in front of you, trying to mentally blame your flush on the amount of wine you had already consumed. “Do uh- Do you know everyone here?” You asked, glancing at him.

Remus blew a puff of air out of his nose, amused as he looked around. “Just about everyone. You?”

“Nobody except for Lily,” you said, grabbing another buttermint to try and sate your dry mouth. “I mean, I know of James, but I spent every summer with Lily when she was home from school.”

“Oh?” Remus said, sitting straighter. He cleared his throat like had gotten something stuck. “Where did you go to school?”

“Saint Grogory’s,” you answered him. You tried to ignore that he was staring at his lap instead of you, his posture still stiff. “Now I work at a cafe while I’m going to the University of London to get my Master’s in English Literature.” 

“You can just study that?” He asked quietly, looking at you. Your eyebrows raised with amusement, gathering that he didn’t know you knew about any of them. “Sorry, that’s a daft question,” he said, exasperated. “I mean, that’s really… Um- That’s really neat.” You didn’t say anything, deciding to let the poor wizard flounder. “I’d go to school for… For um… For maths, but I hate maths, so it wouldn’t really-”

“I know that I’m the only muggle here,” you said, eyebrows still raised as your mouth tugged into a smile. “It’d be very hard to think this was a normal muggle wedding. There are candles floating mid air. That doesn’t happen in the muggle world. You know that right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah.” He visibly relaxed, sending his gaze skyward as his ears started to burn red. “Here I was thinking that I was about to spoil everything.”

“Lily told me the day she got the letter,” you said, smirking as you nudged him. “I sure got you though.”

The heat from Remus’ ears made its way to his face, his cheeks turning crimson as he nodded, looking back at you.

“Wine?” You asked, filling his cup without a response. “How do you know Lily then?”

Remus took his glass before you overfilled it, taking a sip. “We went to school together.”

“Is that where everyone is from?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Mainly,” he said, looking around. “A few from-”

“There you are!” The best man shouted, slapping Remus on the back. He rested his bottom on the table next to his friend. He peered over to you, his grey eyes sparkling. “Magnificent wedding, isn’t it? I heard the house elves did a real bang-up job on the feast too.” He grabbed the near empty bottle of wine, pouring what was maybe a sip into the glass next of him. “Merlin, Moons, you finished it all yourself? Nervous about sitting next to a pretty bird?”

“Sorry, that was me,” you admitted, flushing when the raven-haired man looked back at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“No worries,” he said, waving his hand nonchalantly over the bottle. It filled instantly, and he took it, pouring more into his glass.

You blinked hard, staring at the wine bottle. Grabbing it, you peered inside to make sure it was real. “How’d you do that?”

“Do what?” He asked incredulously. “Do you not know that spell or something?”

Remus took the bottle from you, setting it in front of his friend. He introduced you to his friend, finishing with, “Sirius, this is Lily’s friend from home.”

Sirius paled. “Oh… Fuck.” His hands met his face as he muttered something about James being upset. He looked at you, his face still alarmingly pale as he started taking out his wand. “I’m so sorry, love. Just sit still, and I can help you forget-”

“I just didn’t know that you could do magic with your hands,” you said, still staring at the wine bottle. “I thought you always needed a wand.”

Sirius shook his head, the color slightly returning to his face as he deadpanned, “What?”

“She knows we’re all wizards, you plank,” Remus sighed, drinking his wine. “Put your wand away.”

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, a smile breaking his face. “Oh, good! Brilliant! Ignore that comment then.” He pocketed his wand then turned to his friend. “Have you got a light and a ciggy?”

Remus huffed, patting the table in front of you. “Excuse us for just a moment, will you?” He grabbed his cane, slipped on his coat, and he and Sirius went off to smoke.

Sirius was right. Dinner was magnificent, as well at the people who sat with you. Remus was back in time to introduce you to them all. Frank and Alice, who said they were going to have the next wedding, were the same people you sat next to during the ceremony. Next to them sat Marlene and Dorcas. Marlene had a bright smile and a head full of white blonde hair that hardly ever left Dorcas’ tanned shoulder. On the other side of Frank sat Peter, who looked to be the youngest of the group with his baby-faced cheeks.

The wine was passed and refilled a few more times as the night went on, as well as special cocktails, feuling riveting conversations amongst the wizards and witches. You decided to listen, taking in everything the boys were talking about. From the legalization of recreational boomslang to the crackdown on broom riding. Eventually, their conversation hushed down to mumbles and whispers.

Dorcas, Marlene, and Alice, however, were busily chatting about her wedding and how excited she was to finally marry Frank. They eventually roped you in on their conversation, asking your opinion about what would be better: live unicorns or a toad choir. Of course, you chose unicorns which had the girls roaring in laughter.

By the time that James and Lily danced their first dance, you felt good, and that wasn’t including the way you brushed up against Remus’s side as you stood alongside your newfound friends.

“We’re gettin’ drinks then goin’ to dance,” you slurred, the butterflies reemerging as he looked at you. “You want me t’ grab you somethin’? ‘M gettin’ water.”

He shook his head, pushing himself up from the chair. “I’ll come with you.”

“You sure?” You asked, watching him grab his cane and coat and nod a goodbye to Frank and Peter. “‘S not a big deal f’ me-”

“I insist,” Remus said, walking past you, slightly turning over his shoulder. “Come on then.”

You caught up, trying not to stumble alongside him. Focused on him, the two of you walked straight past the drink table.

As if Remus could sense your reminder, he said, “I want to show you something quick,” and led you out of the tent into the dusky lawn.

You didn’t protest, rather you felt bad for him, his nose scrunching every time he took a step. You lightly hooked your arm in his, your hand resting on his bicep.

“You ‘right?” You asked, feeling dumb as the words left your mouth. “‘M sorry. That was rude.”

“It’s a valid question,” he reassured you with a soft nudge of his elbow. “Hip just acts up sometimes. I’ll live,” he said, glancing at you as you pressed your cheek against his arm. “Are you okay?”

You sighed. “Yeah.” You moved off his arm, rubbing the side of your face that touched him, praying there wasn’t a burn mark. “I think I overshot.”

“You were drinking a lot of wine,” he snorted, opening a large manor door for you. “Do you need some water?” You entered, and he followed you, offering you his arm again. “A sober up potion?”

“The latter,” you said, desperate to feel the burning in your hand again as you hooked onto him. “‘M gonna hurl if I drink anymore.”

“We don’t want that.” Remus led you down a long hallway in the expansive manor. Marble floors and large columns made up the hallway, breaking off into the entryway and the living room. The two of you passed the huge, bustling kitchen and came to a double door.

“Here,” Remus said, nudging the door open slightly. “You go wait in there while I go find that potion, alright love?”

You nodded and the corner of his mouth tugged into a half smile. You watched him, entering the door he had nudged open.

You could’ve dropped dead on the spot, and you would’ve died the happiest lady on the planet. Books covered the walls up to the ceilings, lit by the large moon as it rose over the manor. 

You stepped closer to the shelves, tickling the spines when you noticed that they weren’t just books. There were books on runes, books with fur, and books that were quietly whispering.

You picked up a shiny book, cracking it open. While nothing popped out, the book began shouting. You screamed and quickly slammed it shut, putting it back. Your heart beat out of your chest as you picked up another one, finding ice cold air blowing out of it as soon as you opened it. The third book you picked up had a plaid spine, and looked safe. The cover read, “Frankenstein's Monster: Did It Actually Happen?” You held it to your chest and sighed, breathing in the dusty, papery scent.

You could live here, and nobody would know. You could nestle in amongst the shelves, hiding in the hole until all the books were read. Feeling drunk and overwhelmingly happy, you sighed again, closing your eyes as you plopped down on the sofa.

“Do you like it?” Remus asked from the door.

“I think I’m in love,” you replied dreamily, turning to look at him. “Has anyone read all of ‘em?”

“James said his dad was working through them,” he said, sitting down on the sofa. He handed you the potion. “I think he got about halfway through before he gave up.”

“God,” you said, looking around. “I’d try to read ‘em all.” You smelled the potion, instantly recoiling with a gag. “‘M not drinkin’ this.”

“It just smells bad,” he said, an amused smile gracing his face. “Drink it and you’ll feel better.”

You sighed, grumbled, “Fine,” and downed the potion like a shot. 

Remus lied to you. It tasted just as bad as it smelled, but it worked. You felt all the drunkenness leave you like it was being siphoned out of your body. You sat up straighter, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Better?” Remus asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Much,” you said, smiling as you looked at him. “Thank you.”

Despite not being drunk, you still felt the butterflies in your stomach as he matched your toothy grin, glancing at the book in your hands. “Are you going to steal that?” He teased.

“I’d like to,” you admitted, reading the first page to yourself. “It’s the first book that hasn’t done something.”

“I’m sure Fleamont wouldn’t care,” he said, his fingers dancing against yours as he took the book from you, pocketing it in his coat. “I can hold onto it for now. Until you leave, of course.”

“I suppose I should probably get back and say goodbye to everyone,” you said, standing and smoothing out your dress over your thighs. “The last bus leaves in an hour, and I still have to see Lily.”

Quietly, Remus nodded, standing alongside you. He offered you his arm again, and even though you weren't stumbling, you took his desperately, letting him lead you back out of the manor.

“Moon’s really big,” you said, looking up at the moon that shone orange in the sky. “Must be full.”

Remus winced, glancing at you to see if you noticed, finding you still staring. “There was a full harvest moon a few nights ago. If you look, you can see it waning.”

You narrowed your eyes trying to see what he was talking about. “Do you like the moon or something?”

“I-” He paused, catching you already looking up at him. “Sure.”

“I like the sun more,” you admitted, looking back at the moon. “The moon is fine, but without the sun, it’s just another dark rock.” You glanced at him to catch him staring at the moon, a grimace on his face.

Before you could say anything, a sharp squeal followed a flurry of red hair that was barreling toward you.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I thought you left already!” Lily shouted, picking you up and spinning you around. She held you at arms length. “Look at you!”

“I wouldn’t have left without saying anything to my favorite girl!” You beamed, taking in your Lily. “You... you look radiant.”

“Oh, pish,” Lily said, waving her hand in the air. She looked at Remus, who was still staring at the sky as if to give you and Lily your space. “Hi, space man,” she cooed at him, causing Remus to look at her, a tight smile on his face. She reached up, squishing his cheek between her fingers. “I’m stealing her from you.”

“Be my guest,” he said, pulling cigarettes out of his pocket. “I’ll be in there in a minute,” he said more to you than to Lily.

“That’s a nasty habit, Lupin,” Lily sighed like she had said it about a million times.

“Really? That’s funny,” he said, lighting a cigarette and holding out the pack to the three other men coming toward him. “Seems as though the other Potter likes it.”

You smiled as Lily pulled you away toward the tent, grumbling about James being irresponsible and how she was going to have to have a little chat with him later.

“Oh, you love him,” you cooed, and Lily sighed heavily.

“Very much so.” She turned the two of you around, gazing at the group of four boys all smoking and chatting away. “I mean look at him,” she mumbled to you. “I just want to hit that cigarette out of his hand and scream at him until my throat bleeds, but God, I just want to kiss him until he chokes, and I love him, and I just wish I could-”

While Lily continued to tell you about all the things she loved about her new husband, you couldn’t help but to look at Remus whose face was pulled in a genuine smile as James and Sirius began loudly talking about God knows what. The way he threw his head back as he laughed had your cheeks flushing, and this time, you couldn’t blame the wine.

“He’s cute,” you blurted, sensing Lily following your gaze.

“Remus?” She asked, and you confirmed with a short nod.

“He took me into the library,” you said, looking at Lily. “He’s got a book in his pocket for me.”

“Really…” She said, sounding far off as she continued looking at the group of boys. “It makes a lot of sense…”

“What does?” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears watching the way she smiled, knowing she made eye contact with one of them.

“You and Remus,” she said, looking at you with the same smile. “You should give him your number.”

“Lily,” you groaned and she grabbed your arm, leaning in.

“He wouldn’t have looked over here at least four times if he didn’t want it,” she whispered, a fiery look in her eye when you began to protest with pink cheeks. “He lives in muggle London. He owns a phone.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Lily’s smize turned giddy as she gave you a napkin, your number already written on it. “I’ve had this in my pocket since I saw you sitting next to him.”

“You’re a minx,” you hissed, taking the napkin. You checked your watch and sighed. “You planned this out so I couldn’t say no, didn’t you?”

The glint in Lily’s eye said it all as she threw her arms around you. “I’ll see you soon. I can come round your flat, and we can watch movies, and we can have a proper girl’s night, alright?”

You squeezed her tightly. “That sounds amazing, Lils. I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you!” She said, pulling away. A mischievous grin grew on her face as she pushed you forward. “Now go get ‘em, tiger!”

You stumbled forward, throwing Lily a scrunched nose over your shoulder. She met it with a thumbs up and a cheeky smile before James snuck up behind her, batting him away as he tried to kiss her.

You laughed to yourself, shaking your head. You could only hope to have a love like Lily and James one day.

The napkin in your hand grew increasingly damp the closer you got to Remus. He was still standing outside nursing a cider that one of his friends must’ve given him. You stepped outside of the tent, siding up to him.

“Hey, you!” Remus said, nudging you with his elbow. “Are you heading out?”

“I am!” You said, the napkin becoming damp in your hands. “Bus leaves soon, and I need to catch it before I’m stranded here.”

“Alright,” he said, grabbing the book from his pocket. “Here you are.”

You took it, smiling while you looked at it. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

The two of you became quiet, not knowing what to do next. A handshake would’ve been proper, you thought, considering you had just met him and he took you under his wing for the night.

You panicked and stuck out your napkin-filled hand without saying anything. He looked at you with furrowed brows then took your hand, the burning sensation filling you from the tips of your fingers straight to your chest.

“It was really nice to meet you, Remus,” you said, pulling away and leaving the napkin in his hand.

You turned around before he could say anything, head down as you walked quickly down the Manor drive, hoping the scorched feeling in your hands would never go away.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x muggle!fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin meet cute #remus lupin imagine #harvest moon

[akutasoda]

Hellu

Me again‼️ :D

I would like to request a Lyney, Fremi and Lynette (fluff) x reader who’s like- under Columbina’s care? Like her’s ward- like they just meet on some Fatui meeting mby? I thought about reader having these wings like Columbinas ones but only a single pair of smaller one’s, they’re also keeping their eyes closed (sometimes open them but lovely beautiful amazing Columbina is teaching them to keep 'em closed) they're also trying to keep that lil smile similiar to Columbina’s one but yk they can’t keep it for long so mostly that little smile or just not smiling, not a much of talker, just a smaller version of our beloved Columbina

Thought it would be fun🤷‍♀️

(At this point u’re the only (and my fav) artist Im asking for shots ily💕)

birds of a feather

synopsis - maybe being in similar situations wasn't that bad

includes - freminet, lynette, lyney

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, wc - 810

a/n: hello!! thank you so much <3

the house of the hearth was surprisingly quite the large building. while the knave did quite the good job at maintaining it and attending to the various children, sometimes it became to much for her alone especially when she had duties to attend to. so the only person she ever trusted to assist was the damselette.

therefore entrusting some wards to her in the event she would be unable to attend to them. but when you became the latest child to enter the house of hearth, arlecchino was shocked for your sheer resemblance to her co-worker, knowing exactly what ward to entrust you to.

additionally she immediately told columbina as it definitely wasn't an everyday occurrence to see another like columbina. naturally upon meeting you, the damselette immediately took a liking to you and you took a liking to her as you too had never met someone like you.

and from that day onward, you spent more time at columbina's side than at the house of the hearth. she saw you more like family considering how similar you two were and wanted you to be taught personally by her. afterall she knew your powers better than anyone else.

but ultimately, spending so much time with columbina meant you never really socialised with other children in the house. and even so, the first fellow 'children of the hearth' you had met you got along immediately with. although you weren't that talkative you would be dumb to ignore the obvious signs that you could get along with them.

freminet ★↷

↪when he first saw you, he felt a sort of pity for you. he understood your situation but he knew he most likely couldn't do much about it. and that meant that he did sort of want to befriend you to offer a light that he never had in your situation.

↪you both weren't that talkative, but neither of you minded. most the time you spent with freminet was spent in a comfortable silence.

↪he found your wings so interesting. they fascinated him and he would always ask to have a proper look at them. he did also find them quite beautiful no matter how muched they reminded him of a certain harbinger.

↪same went for your eyes, when he first saw them he asked why you never showed them but answered his own question when he remembered your situation.

lynette ★↷

lyney ★↷

↪she initially never noticed you were there. she hated the fatui meetings where she had to be present, she saw no point in her being there. but when she did see you she couldn't help but feel slightly curious even though nost questions she had could be answered by common sense.

↪but when she did start to know you, which admittedly was a bit awkward as you both weren't known talkers, she did find herself becoming more comfortable around you. you both understood each other and enjoyed spending time with another.

↪she never commented on your slight odd smiling habits as she did admittedly have something similar. but she did comment on why you always had to try and keep your eyes closed. they were beautiful, so why did you hide them?

↪she always found your wings very pretty to look at. they reminded her of her cat-like features. bit she did very much enjoy seeing them.

↪upon seeing you for the first time, he felt indifferent. maybe even a bit of resentment considering who you were stood right next to. although he knew you most likely were in a similar situation to theirs, he still couldn't help but slightly judge you.

↪although overtime as he began to see you and be with you more and more, it did become more sympathy and he started letting down those initial walls, becoming his more normal joyous side.

↪the very first time he saw your eyes he wondered why you hid them but then he remembered who you were spending time with. he did love your wings however.

↪although sometimes they reminded him too much of columbina and by default the fatui but he knew that wasn't your but it couldn't be helped.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x y/n #genshin freminet #freminet x reader #genshin lynette #lynette x reader #genshin lyney #lyney x reader

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Promises 2: First Sight

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Master List

Dream of the Endless had been promised a bride.

I was serious about trying to update every other day! They will be short chapters, but whatever. At least for the first few bits. NOT EDITED. PRAY FOR ME, LOL Would you like a bardcore song suggestion to go with each chapter? Let me know in the comments. Enjoy!

First Sight

She walked into a golden scene of candle smoke and gilded lilies with mud on her boots and one stubborn myrtle leaf in her hair.

Hardly fine court attire, but folk she cared for called her in fear, so she rode in haste from the far side of Meiren, and she’d lost any need to impress the court a long time ago. She’d survived the worst they could do before the current king assumed his father’s throne, and it never hurt to remind them all that she was not part of their games or under their thumbs. So she didn’t stop to comb her hair, or dig out the myrtle leaf, or even shuck her stained green traveling cloak.

Hard as she rode, she didn’t arrive before the festivities began, and she spied the king sitting on the high dais beside his honored guest, for whom a second throne had been crafted. Clearly in haste. Probably merely the queen’s old seat altered to be less feminine. It looked cheap and small beneath its occupant.

Dream of the fucking Endless. King of Dreams and Lord of Nightmares.

He sat above the glittering host like the darkness behind the stars. Ethereal, unknowable, frigidly beautiful as only untouchable things could be.

Even seeing him there, in the flesh, she struggled to believe it. She couldn’t believe their fool king would go so far.

The King of Meiren didn’t hide the festivities’ goal in the invitations (threats and demands) he sent to his people. Dream would find a queen among the best and brightest of the kingdom, and the chosen would gratefully accept the honor.

Only ignorant fools courted the attention of the Endless. Her mother had been one such fool, and she only dared befriend the kindest of the seven. Dream of the Endless was far more terrible, and he sought more than a friend in the king of Meiren’s court. Yet mothers shepherded noble children dressed in their finest silks and velvets, the softest, sweetest things welcoming a stranger’s wondering caress. Family heirlooms dripped from ears and gleamed around fine throats, daring the eye to wander lower. Girls smelling of flowers and boys scented with fruit and musk turned the hall into a stinking hell of vanity and hubris.

Then there were her folk – the wiser birds with drab plumage clustering in the dimmest corners, away from the dances and merrymaking. Parents who wanted their children to live. Grandparents who understood some risks simply weren’t worth taking. Young lovers who were bound in heart and mind but not yet by law. The king’s greed would spare none if the Endless chose them. Though she had not received an official invitation, several families who knew her of old called for her help. Officially, she belonged to no fewer than five noble houses’ retinues for the event, but the guards wouldn’t have barred her entry even without their help.

No one turned a bard away from a party.

Though the long trestle tables had been ferried away by an army of servants to make room for dancing, the ghosts of a feast remained. The king planned the celebrations like a royal engagement. Seven wedding feasts. Seven days to inspire a force of nature to grow a heart and stitch it to another. She smelled grease from venison and partridge, the first victims of the king’s folly, and she hoped the only sacrifices. Better a thousand lambs, ducks, and cows than one of the young folk all dressed up for the fire.

She didn’t dither or ask for her charge’s insights before approaching the dais. Truth would always out. The king was not clever, and she trusted her own opinions of an Endless over any courtier’s.

Striding up to the throne, she waited on the verge of the crowd for the chamberlain to announce her. Her name. A few meaningless titles. Finally her occupation. She liked it best when the king was reminded she was a bard. That she carried an ounce of authority in any royal circle.

Neither king really needed any of it, of course. The Endless knew all, and she’d plagued the King of Meiren’s nightmares for decades. But manners were manners, and politics demanded performance.

She sank low, graceful as a willow frond, angling her face so the king would see the barest hint of her smirk. Not entirely mocking. But knowing. Far from a loyal subject’s easy smile or overwrought frown. The smirk made a game of her courtesies, drawing the king low to meet her, even as her knees brushed the floor and he remained in his throne. No threat. No demand. She asked for nothing. She told him what she was, where she stood, and how little power he wielded over her that she did not choose to give.

As a boy he watched his father’s men draw and quarter her. Now he must suffer her freedom in his court.

“Majesties.”

“I hope you do not bring trouble to my court.” The King of Meiren glowered down, playing the dread king. He wasn’t even a dying candle compared to the sun-bright force at his side. Not that he’d ever been a great power even before he dared weave himself into the story of an Endless.

She sprang up as lithely as she bowed. “Your majesty must think very highly of me indeed to think I could bring anything grander or more concerning than an Endless to your throne room.”

The human ruler tensed, but the eldritch ruler at his side…shifted. She’d sparked his momentary attention, and unlike the first king’s attempt to intimidate her, Dream’s look chilled her until it burned. His gaze, however, did not focus on her like a mortal’s would. His starry eyes saw too much for that. They swallowed her, washing her in the loneliness of the night sky.

Unfathomable. Incredible. Cold as stone and livelier than a sea breeze. Entirely inhuman and everything that led a soul to dream. That gaze made her ache for a shield to lift against him.

 So. She offered the smallest, polite smile in recognition and returned to the mere human on the throne.

“A shame the years haven’t blunted your tongue,” the King of Meiren said, struggling to reclaim the authority she’d so neatly plucked from the conversation.

“I prefer to think of them as a whetstone, majesty.”

“I do not recall issuing an invitation in your name.”

“And yet I found my place through the names of others. Several houses requested my attendance in their support.”

Gods, he looked so petulant. But she’d laugh later. He wasn’t above sending a guard to run her through in the hall, and while she didn’t fear death, she didn’t enjoy pain. Or ruining good clothes. No need for more drama in this fraught production, anyway.

The best he could do was insult her clothes, eying the mud and bracken. “Clearly you came in haste.”

“But of course, your majesty.” Wide eyes and an innocent expression couldn’t bury the implicit insult entirely – she had not come for him, her very presence was a kind of defiance, and she would never ride so hard or long without care for her appearance to preserve him or his honor – but they did well enough. A little simpering would stay the blade, and any words said sweetly must be born, even if they soured the king’s stomach.

After all, she would outlive him and his kingdom both. She’d carry what stories she chose to the generations that came after, and no threat or sentence in his power to levy against her would give him back control of his legacy. At least he was smart enough to understand that much.

“Perhaps you should retire for the evening, then.” The king looked pointedly at her boots, reminding her they did not belong on his polished floors. She, in her rough clothes and wild hair did not belong. But she’d worked hard to ensure she never entirely belonged in places like these, always a step out of line, a loose thread that escaped the warp and weft of society’s patterns.

Othered and free for it.

“A most gracious suggestion.” Another, shallower, curtsy. Her eyes dipped to the floor but didn’t linger with any kind of reverence. “I take my leave.”

She moved back through the crowd, unable to disappear between the fine people in their fine clothes. A dark look touched her, stayed under her skin as she passed through the doors and turned down the hall, and she refused to name its owner. There was no time to fear him. Or – if she was very careful – reason to. She had plans to make and riddles to solve, and what was she to an Endless?

Her patrons would request her advice in the morning. She did, actually, need to wash the road off her gear. And her lute was in need of tuning. She retired to her work.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x female reader #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x female reader #x reader #oc #fic: promises

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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.”

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                             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’.”

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(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).

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“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

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fics #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #It's Not Like The Movies Series #arthur leclerc #daniel ricciardo #pierre gasly #blueathensfics #Formula One #F1 #f1 imagine

[rizzyu]

▵▿— Someone Who Loves You

Pairing: Giyuu Tomioka x gn! Reader

Category: Fluff, angst (if you squint hard enough)

Warning: Confession, sight mentions of Giyuu’s backstory, that type of nostalgic feeling at the end

Summary: You’ve always been particularly friendly towards Giyuu, so much that he began developing feelings towards you over the years you’ve been comrades together. The day where you two were paired on a mission had arrived, maybe he can finally confess his feelings?

A/N: Poor boy needs some therapy

Ever since the death of his best friend Sabito, Giyuu had become reserved, isolating himself and his emotions from the rest of the world. No matter how much he wanted to befriend others, to be liked or needed by others, he stopped himself from doing so. Because he knew, as a Demon Slayer, there wasn’t a guarantee where he or people he loves will return alive tomorrow. So he tried not to get attached to anyone.

Until you came into his life.

You joined the Demon Slayer Corps a few years after Giyuu did, and you rose though the ranks quickly. Due to your dedication of saving people from demons, you soon became a Hashira. On the day when you were officially ranked as a Hashira, on the day you were introduced to all of your fellow Hashira comrades, was the day Giyuu met you. You had a smile as bright as sunshine, and a voice as sweet as honey. Your lively and friendly personality was naturally attractive, allowing you to captivate new friends and admirers left and right, like flies to light. For years, you and Giyuu were Hashiras together. And despite how quiet and reserved Giyuu was, you still tried to engage with him. Occasionally bringing him deserts or treating him to salmon daikon. It became harder and harder for him to not develop feelings for you. You were always so kind and friendly to him. And despite all the bad gossips about him from other Hashiras, you ignored them and still tried to bond with him. It was as if you knew Giyuu’s desire to befriend others.

Things were never the same since that one day, on that one mission.

You were paired with Giyuu on a mission after receiving reports of demons lurking in a mountain quite far away from HQ. As you travelled with Giyuu, you kept trying to talk to him. But it seemed that he was even more quiet than usual. You didn’t pay much attention though, thinking you might treat him to some salmon daikon again later. Night approached sooner than you expected, so you decided to make a pit stop at a nearby Wisteria House before continuing travelling tomorrow. An old lady came to greet you when you knocked on the gates. “Oh hello, you two are Demon Slayers, correct? Come on in.” The old lady showed you to a room within the Wisteria House and you wasted absolutely no time setting up your futon and getting ready for rest. Afterall, you were exhausted from travelling today. Giyuu, on the other hand, stayed awake. Sitting on the edge of the engawa outside of your room, he stared at the moon which ever so gracefully lit up everything beneath it. “Giyuu…?” He turned around to see you tiptoeing towards him. “What are you doing up so late?” You asked as you sat down next to him on the engawa, drowsiness still mixed in with your voice. “Mmmm… Just thinking.” “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late at night to think?” “For Demon Slayers, it’s never too late at night to think.” You divert your eyes towards the moon hung above you. A comforting silence filled the air around you, chirping or crickets or the calls of night birds occasionally breaking the silence. You basked in the comforting presence of him, until he spoke up. “Yknow… I’ve been wanting to say this for a while…” Giyuu whispered in the softest voice, eyes still fixed on the moon. “I love you. You’ve always been so nice and kind to me. And it was as if you knew about the pain I felt about the deaths of my sister and best friend, you’ve always tried to cheer me up.” He looked down, refusing to look at you in the eyes. “It’s alright if you don’t feel the same way as I do–“ Giyuu’s words were cut short when you gently yet quickly cradled his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was short but sweet. When you pulled away, Giyuu could only stare into your eyes in shock, cheeks dusted in light pink. “Yknow I’ve been wanting to say the same thing to you too for a long time now.” “Does that mean we’re…?” Giyuu was hesitated to ask, still trying to confirm if this was all real. You smiled at him brightly, eyes forming into two crescent moons.

Ever since his best friend and sister died from protecting him, Giyuu fell into an endless loop of regret and guilt. You were the one who broke through that loop and held a hand out for him. And for the first him in years, a smile was plastered on Giyuu’s face.

Bonus: the other hashiras were literally like ⓿_⓿ when they say you come back from your mission holding hands with Giyuu.

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka

[corpsebasil]

cant get over protective but slightly (slightly is a stretch) dark knight nikolai oh GOD

playing on the Grisha Disney princess power I mentioned in a previous post— VERH SHORT BUT JUST LOSTEN

Like imagine you’re dating a knight. Lets call him….idk. Kyle. HAHA

So this Kyle fellow is paranoid of Grisha. Sir Nikolai was around during the time that women were accused of being witches for their Grisha power SO, because you have that lovely Disney Princess Grisha power where you can speak to and befriend animals, your boyfriend is scared of you.

Meanwhile Nikolai dotes on you as much as he can. He isn’t afraid of your power—never has been—and if anything is completely enamored with the way you have deer, bunnies, and cute birds absolutely wrapped around your finger. You’re like a girl from a fairytale, you know? And he’s your brave knight.

At least he wants to be.

The day he found out that his fellow knight and your boyfriend was going to attempt to kill you—witchcraft is a horrible misconception for Grisha power—Nikolai has never ridden so fast to your adorable little cottage in his life.

You’ve barely gotten your glass of wine to your lips—you planned a romantic dinner complete with all of Sir Kyle’s favorites: roast lamb, baby potatoes, greens straight from the garden, fresh baked bread with butter, the whole nine yards—when your front door just slams open and Nikolai lunges for you.

Your shriek of surprise is enough time for him to yank your glass out of your hand, his nose immediately flying to the rim. Oh god. Then his head is turning slowly—so slowly—towards Sir Kyle, the other knight staring at his superior with a pale face.

“Drink it.” Nikolai says, offering the wine glass to the knight.

“I—Sir, I—”

“I said drink it. Did I fucking stutter?”

When it’s clear he won’t comply you’re beyond confused. Even more so when Nikolai grabs the man and makes him drink it, one hand prying his mouth open while the other works at his throat, triggering the muscles for him to swallow.

Works every time.

But then.

But then Sir Kyle is gagging and shaking, foaming at the mouth as whatever poison he put into your drink kicks in. Nikolai immediately has you by the arms, holding you to him, ignoring your gasping and shocked cries for help.

“He tried to kill you.”

“You don’t know that—!”

“He wanted you dead, Y/N.” He’d grab your face harshly in one hand and force you to look at him. “You’re telling me that being able to talk to bunnies is an excuse to kill you? Look around, Y/N.” He’d grip your chin harder and force you to acknowledge the weapons and religious memorabilia your boyfriend had stored around the cottage.

Nikolai forced you to realize your boyfriend had tried to kill you. The same man that had insisted that your gift for whispering to birds is creepy and—

Hold on.

Imagine one morning Nikolai is planning to visit you (how could he not, you’re the sweetest girl he’s ever met) and he sees you reading a fairytale to about six baby deer. They’ve got their heads on your lap, your legs, cuddled up against you, your powers allowing them the ability to understand as you rub their velvet ears and giggle whenever they nibble at your dress. So freaking cute I stg.

Nikolai knows you aren’t some evil witch. He cares about you so much you don’t even know it.

But when he sees you crying over a man that tried to kill you he has no patience left. He’s digging his fingers into your cheeks and staring down at you—his love—and insisting this was the only way.

Sure enough, weeks later, you’re sitting on the ground in the forest.

Omg WAIT—DRABBLE—

You’re sitting alone, one hand running over the snoozing fawn that’s head is in your lap as you relax in the meadow, surrounded by trees and flowers as you enjoy the forest. The mother of the baby deer lays just beside you, her nose touching your leg as she dozes in the Sun.

You love these animals more than your fellow humans at this point.

The knowledge that your former lover tried to poison you is hard to ignore. You’d trusted him—loved him—and he’d wanted to kill you all because of superstition.

Not Nikolai.

You heard the sound of footsteps and looked up to see Sir Nikolai, Captain of the guard, walking slowly towards you with a basket in hand. These days the animals barely react to him. At first they’d needed lots of reassurance; since he couldn’t understand them as you could this resulted in lengthy debates over your safety, knights in general, and whether they’d be killed for sport. You’d assured them that no, they’d be fine.

So now the baby deer is snoring softly, it’s head on your thigh, your fingers trailing gently over its ears as you smile at Nikolai. He’s so sweet. So sweet. He asked you to try to teach him to talk to animals but you explained it was a skill somehow woven into your DNA. He laughed every time dozens of small birds landed on his shoulders. He grinned when your deer friends nudged him with their heads, earning boyish laughter from the knight.

He was so sweet with them.

And with you.

He sits beside you now, chin propped casually upon your shoulder as you read the story aloud. Even though your cheeks are pink and hot you continue, barely flinching when he reaches out to run his fingers through your soft, silky hair. It’s long now at this point—long and woven with flowers. When he leans in to breathe in the scent of one you pause, turning your face to look at him.

He’s so close.

God.

His grin is so utterly attractive you find yourself smiling back, one hand on the fawn’s head as you pause your story. The only reason why he doesn’t kiss you is the irritated noise the deer makes, it’s little head lifting to shoot an almost annoyed look at Nikolai.

You smile.

“They’re impatient.” You explain, tickling the fawn’s head. It’s mother is nudging your thigh with her head, making a small noise of complaint. “Such sweet creatures. You know they—”

You’re cut off when he kisses you, one hand touching your face as he leans in, pouring all of his love and devotion into the single gesture.

Of course you respond.

How could you not?

STOPPP NIKOLAI WITH BABY DEER RUNNING AROUNF HAS ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #wattpad #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #knight nikolai lantsov #sir nikolai lantsov #sir Nikolai

[gethoce]

New Galacta ref all done! Some headcanons below ~

He has an Irish accent.

Galacta was personally trained by Morpho Knight from a young age and later by Dutch (Red Kirby) as well. He views them as part of his family.

Most of the terrible things he did, such as the planet destroying, happened after he was originally sealed. Fueled by all kinds of negative emotions upon being betrayed, locked away and taken away from his family and friends, he lost his sense of self.

The crystal he was sealed away within is called a heart crystal. It was not only responsible for locking him away, but also charged him up with positive energy to make sure he doesn't turn into Nightmare Matter.

The seal reapplied itself whenever Galacta was growing weak, allowing for the crystal to easily form around him while he is sitting still for a bit.

While in the crystal he was capable of dreaming, yet they ceased to be good dreams after a while, to say the least.

One of the people who was responsible for sealing him away was Dutch. Upon meeting him again for the first time Galacta stabbed a heart spear straight through him, almost killing him. The scars still remain yet Galacta doesn't remember the encounter.

Morpho Knight took away many of Galacta's memories from when he was sealed to ensure he could be safely reintroduced into society. Morpho never told anyone about this. 

It was Morpho Knight claiming his soul which broke the seal, since it was never meant to house him as a corpse. Morpho, however, never told him about the details, though those closest to them know enough about their powers to have figured it out. Technically he is undead now. Morpho simply allows him to roam free out of a deep sense of guilt, wishing for him to live a happy life for a bit longer. Galacta remains ignorant about this to this day.

Kirby was born from the dream matter of Galacta's feathers and the soul of Galaxia mixed together. They consider each other family since they found out about this.

Galacta was hoping to befriend Void originally, yet had to opt into sealing them away instead with the intention to save them on a later date.

One of the few times he came back to his senses while sealed away was during his battle against Meta Knight, recognizing his sword instantly.

The terrifying legends about him deeply unsettle him, so do depictions of him in the media. He tries his hardest to appear friendly hoping his reputation will once again be that of a hero one day. Also he gets especially angry when his old friends are being mischaracterized or left out entirely in media. Entirely false tales, negative or positive, simply make him sad.

The idea of being sealed away once again is a deeply rooted fear of his. He faints extremely easily when seeing heart crystals.

Not much of a reader, but a good listener.

He gets along with kids greatly and is a fantastic choice for a babysitter.

Early bird, will wake up as the sun rises.

A master of Dream and Heart Magic, was told to actively avoid learning Dark Magic since Dream Matterborn often take recoil damage from casting spells of this kind.

Was raised by noddies, which is why he has the sleep ability.

Before he got the name Galacta Knight he was called "Godkiller". Yes, even as a newborn.

Instead of using regular words for spells he shouts specific numbers assigned to each of his spells, much to the confusion of his opponents and the mages in his life.

He and Fecto Elfilis fought before they made their arrival to the New World, weakening them significantly leading to their capture.

Galacta is capable of wielding Galaxia without being harmed.

#Galacta Knight #Kirby #Kirby nintendo #Gethoce

[underoossss]

So This Is Love - S.H

pairing: Cinderella!steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: some angst at some point (also the gif has nothing to do with the story lol)

word count: 5k+

an: i had a dream where steve harrington was cinderella and i obviously had to write it down. i loved playing with the story and changing many things to fit steve’s background that we know from the series. i hope you enjoy this! Let me know💘

Masterlist

-----

Birdsong drifts into the bedroom through the open window and a cool spring breeze accompanies it. The telltale sign that it’s time for Steve to wake up and seize the day. The routine is simple, wake up and stretch, make the bed, look out the window and down to the garden before going to the bathing chamber to get ready for a long day ahead. There are two canaries perched on Steve’s open window when he approaches; they don’t even move when he sits on the windowsill next to them. Call Steve out of his mind but he feels as if those birds know him, they come to visit him every single day after all. Besides, Steve doesn’t have many friends, if these two birds want to befriend him who is he to deny them.

“Hey guys.” Steve says as he sits, looking out to the garden below. The sun has barely risen in the distance and the sky is blue with a yellowish sunbeam trying to peak through the horizon. The flowers below seem to sleep still, the roses closed up until later when the sunlight hits them. A quick glance up confirms a cloudless day. “I don’t think there’ll be any rain today, what do you think?”

One bird chirps, but it doesn’t sound like an affirmation or denial so Steve shrugs. “I guess you don’t really know.” He stands up and stretches his arms above his head, followed by a yawn. “Well, I gotta get going. See you later!”

Steve grabs some clothes from his closet and takes them with him to the bathing chamber –trousers, shirt, and vest over his forearm. Closing the door behind him, he sets about undressing and bathing, making sure his hair and body are clean before towelling himself dry. Clean and dressed up for the day ahead, Steve steps in front of the mirror and pats his hair down with a towel. He makes sure most of it is dry before combing through it and setting it in place with hair cream. He takes a good look at himself in the mirror, tries to give himself a pep-talk but finds that he can’t; he can only sigh and head downstairs. What use is it to lie to himself anyways? You got this, it’s going to be a great day, you’ll see! You won’t even disappoint your parents! Lies. It’s better to treat himself with honesty.

As usual, no one greets him good day when he goes downstairs; his father too busy pretending he doesn’t exist and his mother busying herself with a magazine while she drinks her morning coffee. Still, he says good morning and heads into the kitchen. They might not love or want anything to do with him, but he’s still polite. The deal is, Steve didn’t qualify to join the knighthood by 5 points. Everyone in his family has done it, his father, both grandfathers did too, all of his friends from school, but not him. A real shame for the Harrington name, his father had said when he found out, from this day on you stop being a Harrington to both of us. His mother had agreed and that’s that. Steve is a stranger in his own home, banned from attending any events or showing his face around the nobility. As far as people know, Lord Harrington has no children.

Two years is enough time to put all these things to the back of his mind, but Steve’s self-esteem… well it suffered a tough blow. He focuses on his breakfast and early morning chores to ignore his parents’ judgemental presence. Steve mops the big and cold house, dusts the pictures and portraits hanging from the wall and takes out the trash. By the time he’s done, he’s itching to leave the house; he wonders how it’s possible for a manor to feel like a matchbox –it’s walls moving inward until Steve feels claustrophobic enough to scream. He grabs his coat and keys and walks out of the house as fast as his feet can take him, only slowing down when he’s down the gravel road that leads into the village.

It's a short 20-minute walk that Steve doesn’t mind, it’s enough time to forget about what he left behind at home and focus on the workday ahead.

Lady Francis, Steve’s neighbor owns a store in the village’s centre. Her son, who ran the store with her, passed away three years ago and Steve’s been helping her out ever since. He tries to use as little family money as possible and Lady Francis pays him well, it’s mutually beneficial. She gets help, he saves money up for the day he can leave his house. The store’s a two-story building made out of brick and painted cream and blue. Inside, there are fruits, flowers, herbs, candles, and porcelain tea sets; all Lady Francis’ except for the porcelain sets, which are antiquities she brings from her travels.

Steve opens the door, flips the store’s sign to open and hangs his coat in the backroom. He takes a small clipboard from the office’s desk and starts running inventory of the various items in the store. He stops as soon as he starts though, because right that second there’s a commotion in the village. Steve puts the clipboard down and steps out of the store, trying to catch a glimpse at what’s happening down the road.  

----

“We already discussed this last week. There are better ways to use the palace’s money than to throw a ball, you Majesty.” Shiny silk fabric wrinkles as you cross your arms across your chest and look at the King sitting on his throne in front of you. All around the palace, people are cleaning and decorating every hallway and the main ballroom with a large assortment of flowers. “I specifically said I did not want this, father, and you went ahead and invited people to come tonight. Without telling me, might I add.”

“You have to see it from your stepmother’s point of view.” The King tells you on the brink of exasperation. “Whether you like it or not, you must marry, and this ball will bring potential suitors from neighboring Kingdoms as well as our own.”

“I am 23 years old!” You exclaim and throw your hands up. “Why do you want me to marry?”  

“Your sisters married at 19.” A squeaky voice says to your right, and you glance in that direction with a glare. Your stepmother gives you the fake smile she uses with your father, a stark contrast to the deathly looks she sends your way whenever you’re alone. “I’d say your opportunity is slipping away from you, dear.”

“Just because my stepsisters did, doesn’t mean I should be married too.” You shift your glare into a sweet smile, even faker than hers. “I said I don’t want a ball. It’s a waste of resources, there are other things we can do for our people.”

“Everyone has already been invited.” The King shrugs. “Your stepmother is right, my darling. I’m getting older and you need someone to take care of you when I’m gone, to be by your side when you take my place.”

You hear two huffs come from the throne room’s doorway behind you, which can only mean two things, two horrible things. Your stepsisters Linda and Vilma arrived. Great.

“As if someone would want such a piece of work.” Vilma snorts unkindly, moving past you to stand next to their mother.

“I’d start adopting cats if I were you.” Linda says next when she joins her twin sister.

Leave it to them to make spinster jokes at your expense only because they’re married and you’re not. Their envy makes them act that way, is what you remind yourself every time they say something cruel or side with their mother to convince your father to do something you don’t agree with. They resent you, that much you know, for even though they’re older than you, they are not princesses and won’t ever be. A stepchild doesn’t receive a title or anything for that matter. You wish you could say you’re sorry for them but given how brutally unkind the two of them are to you… you’re not. As if the world taking your mother away from you wasn’t enough, your father had to become infatuated and marry a despicable woman.

It takes great effort, but you hold back an eyeroll, choosing to smile at them instead. “I think there are good odds that I’ll find someone. The two of you got married after all.”

Your stepfamily sneers at the same time and it’s so comical you bite your tongue to avoid laughing. “You little–” Linda starts to say but your father, tired of your bickering, speaks up.

“Enough!” His voice echoes around the room. “The ball will take place, and as the princess of this kingdom you’re to find a husband. That’s my final word.” The King’s eyes look at you seriously, but you can see that his decision comes from the fear shining in his eyes.

“As you wish.” You nod and put your hands on your hips in defeat before an idea sparks your mind. “However, I have my own request if I’m to be forced to attend this ball.”

“Alright.” Your father nods, urging you to go on.

“I want to invite the village so they can enjoy it as well. And…” You smile as you pause for some dramatic tension. “I want to go to the village to invite them myself.”

“Invite them? Absolutely not.” Your stepmother huffs with an eyeroll.

“You’re not to go to the village.” The King reminds you with the raise of an eyebrow, ignoring your stepmother’s words. “We’ve spoken about this.”

“It’s my ball, no?” You raise your own eyebrow, a perfect mirror to his. “I can invite whoever I want, and I want to do it personally. If I can’t do that then you won’t see me tonight, it is a big palace after all.”

Your father drags a hand over his face as he sighs. Stubborn, just like your mother, he always says when you don’t see eye to eye. You’ve proved him right yet again. “Alright, go to the village. But just this once!”

The smile that takes over your face is triumphant as you glance over at your stepmother and raise your chin.

----

 “Steve!” His friend and co-worker Robin –who’s late as always– emerges from the crowd and runs towards him. “The princess is going to have a ball! She’s coming this way and she’s inviting everyone.”

“How do you know?” Steve asks, skeptical. He’s never seen the princess before. Not in town because she never walks around the village, and not at any event because he is never allowed to attend.

“That’s what the commotion is about!” Robin throws her stuff inside the store, behind the front door and stands by the window with Steve. Her feet bounce eagerly in place as she strains her neck to look down the road. “I can’t wait to see her. She’s so pretty, Steve.”

Steve nods and shrugs. “So you’ve told me. You know I’ve never got the chance to meet her.”

“As if I could talk to her, dingus.” Robin rolls her eyes, eyes still trained on the road. “I just stare dreamily from a distance. You’ll get it when you see her.”

Just then, as if summoned by Robin’s words, you walk down the road. The crowd that’s gathered by each side makes way for you and two guards who walk some feet behind you. You’re smiling and greeting everyone as you walk by, stopping every now and then to ask a question or make short conversation with someone. There are flowers gathered in the crook of your arm, red roses and some pink ones Steve doesn’t know the name of. Steve can’t even hear what you’re saying, too focused on standing upright as his world seems to turn upside down. Robin’s words don’t come close to describe you, he thinks, because you look as if you’ve walked straight out of his dreams. Everything about you looks ethereal to him, from your hair to your smile; the way your purplish-blue dress fits you and highlights your beautiful complexion leaves him breathless.

“Of course, you’re all invited!” You’re saying your voice a beautiful melody to Steve’s ears. “Wear your best garments and be ready to dance.”

He's sure he looks just as foolish as he feels when you walk by Lady Francis’ store and he has to shake himself out of his trance. A second later you turn your head and meet his eyes and Steve’s stomach feels like a wasp’s nest.

“Hi.” You smile after a moment, stepping closer to the store. “Those periwinkles in your window are beautiful.”

Steve glances at the flowers and then at you as he fumbles for an answer. “H–Hi! I, uhh, I didn’t know they were periwinkles. The owner of the store put them there… I think?”

“They are beautiful aren’t they, your highness?” Robin is quick to intervene. She gestures at your dress with one hand while elbowing Steve’s arm with the other. “They also match your dress perfectly.”

Steve is quick to turn around and pluck out a few flowers before handing them to you. “Yeah, they match your dress.” He says, feeling his cheeks warm up when he steps closer to you. “A–A gift for you.”

Your eyes light up and a soft smile takes over your features. “Thank you… I didn’t catch your name, sorry.”

“Steve.” He says, then motions towards his friend. “This is Robin.”

You give the two of them your name before your eyes drift to your flowers, then down the road. “Well, thank you Steve and enjoy the rest of the day. I hope to see you at the ball tonight, you too Robin.”

Steve smiles and nods his head. “Yeah, for sure. Bye!”

“Bye!” Robin says too and you walk away continuing your visit down the street. A few seconds later you spare Steve one last glance he’s sure he’ll never forget.

Steve spends the rest of the day on edge; his mind goes over the different ways he can ask his parents for permission to attend the ball. Maybe he can offer to do the cooking in the house, or the ironing. Either way there has to be something he can bargain for this one chance to see you again. It’s stupid to hold out hope, after all Steve knows his parents and their feelings towards him, but it’s impossible to put of the spark that’s been lit inside his chest.

He goes over his words as he makes his way home at the end of the day, rehearsing everything from tone to delivery so he has a better chance of going. His hands are sweaty and his chest constricts with nerves at what he’s going to do, but it’s what it’ll take to attend –and Steve wishes for nothing more. His parents are making their way upstairs when he arrives home. He rushes towards them and stand at the bottom of the staircase when he calls for them.

“Mother, Father… may I speak with you?” He keeps his voice from faltering and tightens his hands into fists behind his back. He can’t lose his nerve, not even when his father looks down at him with his classic cold stare.

“Go on.” His father tells him, looking away bored already.

“There’s going to be a ball tonight; the princess came into the village today and invited everyone.” He starts, concealing his enthusiasm the right amount. “I wanted to–”

“Yes, the palace sent an invitation two weeks ago.” His father interrupts him and raises one eyebrow in curiosity. “Surely you’re not going to waste my time and ask for permission to go?”

“Father, the princess asked–”

With one raised hand Steve’s father interrupts again. “You already know the answer but I’ll repeat myself so we’re clear.”

Steve’s shoulders deflate and there’s a growing tightness in his throat all of a sudden.

“You’re not going to this or any ball.” His father speaks lowly, and his words feel like a slap across Steve’s face. “You’re forbidden, you hear me? I don’t want people asking questions. Don’t waste my time again.”

“If people see you there, Steve,” His mother speaks up, a worried tone in her voice, “We’ll be forced to talk about your failures. Don’t embarrass us further.”

With that the two of them continue their ascend upstairs and go to their respective rooms, leaving a defeated Steve behind.

He makes his way to his room shortly after, with a flurry of emotions stirring up in his chest at the unfairness of it all. A groan leaves his lips as he slams the door to his room with enough force to shake the lamp hanging from the ceiling. It is so unfair. Steve’s done nothing but try to prove himself to his parents but it’s like he’s invisible to them. Worse, they want to make him invisible for everyone else. He tries to take deep breaths but struggles to do so, a mixture of anger and frustration making his breaths catch. It takes three steps for him to reach the window and pull it open. He takes another breath then, of the fresh air flowing into the room, and looks down at the garden below. That’s where he spots them, periwinkles. He would have never recognized them or know their name if it wasn’t for today. Or you.

And just like that his mind goes back to you, and your encounter in the morning. She’s so pretty, Robin had said. Pretty hadn’t even come close to describe you, it’s not the word he’d use but he’s also not very good with words, so he’ll settle for beautiful. Steve grins like a fool at the memory, even if he made himself a fool in front of you. You’d invited him to the ball –the whole town really– but you’d smiled that dreamy smile of your and said ‘I hope to see you there.’ Steve feels like it was a personal invitation to him, there had been something between the two of you, otherwise his chest wouldn’t flutter at the memory of it all. But now… well it’s almost impossible for him to see you again, no matter how much he wants to.

Steve grunts and falls back on his bed, covering his face with his hands. He can’t even sneak out of the house to talk to you just for a moment. His parents are going to the ball and would spot him immediately if he showed his face, no matter how short a time it is. What is the point of Steve going if he has to hide all the time?

“There has to be a way.” He mumbles to himself, hands moving from his face to his hair. “I just wish it could be easy… I wish I could just go.”

Something begins to tickle his nose then, like dust falling on him, and Steve is sure he hears the whisper of his name from somewhere near him. It startles him in the quiet room making him sit up quickly and grab whatever is near him –in this case an empty water carafe from his nightstand. It takes him a moment, but Steve spots a tiny creature in front of him. Is that a fairy? He thinks. He thought they weren’t real, but here she is, tiny and shining in periwinkle light.

“Don’t hurt me! I’m here to help you!” The small fairy exclaims, voice squeaky and almost imperceptible as she holds her hands up.

Once Steve knows he’s not in fact losing his mind, and that the fairy in front of him is actually talking to him, his emotions shift towards confusion. “Help me?”

The fairy smiles, revealing lilac-coloured teeth that seem to shiny as much as her exterior. “Yes, so you can go to the ball and see the princess.”

Steve is incredulous; this fairy wants to help him attend the ball? Why?  “Why?”

“You gave her periwinkles today.” The fairy explains with a smile, as if her answer makes everything clear.

It doesn’t, not really. So Steve furrows his brows —confused.

“I’m the periwinkle fairy?” The small creature explains again, gesturing towards the color of her shining light. “I saw that you really like this girl, and if the princess is going to be in a courtship, it should be with a nice young man like you.”

Steve’s mouth opens and falls closed a couple of times. What are the odds that there’s a fairy tied to the flowers he gave you, the flowers you like. Could it be possible that Steve’s luck is turning around? “So, when I wished…”

“I heard you.” The fairy nods and smiles once more, procuring a wand. “Now…. you’re already late, so do you want my help or not?”

“Yes!” He nods his head enthusiastically and stands up. “But how can you help me?”

“You won’t be recognized by anyone else but the princess with a very special spell,” The fairy says and flies closer to his face. “Close your eyes.”

Steve does and feels the tickling sensation on his nose as the fairy taps her wand against it to give him some of her magic. When he opens them again, he sees she’s taken his nicest white-tie clothes and magically changed them to look polished and regal. The once faded grey now seems to shine like velvet, with tiny embroideries along the neckline and sleeves. The black pants are perfectly ironed, without a lint in sight, and his boots are clean and polished. Steve can’t remember the last time he wore clothes these nice.  

Steve’s voice is soft when he speaks, wonder shining in his eyes. He feels grateful beyond words. “Thank you. Thank you for this.”

“You can go until 12am.” The fairy tells him as she lays the clothes on his bed. “The spell will wear off them, and your parents will recognize you, Lord Steve.”

Steve holds up his hand. “Please, Steve is fine.”

The fairy laughs softly and nods. “Alright Steve, now hurry!”

Right! He’s already late. Steve grabs the clothes and changes in the bathing chamber quickly after brushing his teeth and combing his hair. He slips his boots on and runs down the stairs and out of the house faster than he’s ever done, until he’s at the stables. Once there he takes his saddle and his horse –Beam– and races out of the front gates towards the castle.

 Even though Steve took a shortcut to get to the palace, there’s no one else outside when he runs to the door. They open for him and he steps inside in a rush, where he takes a second to catch his breath before continuing down the hall. Steve gives himself a peptalk as he looks around the room, he is dressed his best, he is at the ball, and he’ll get to talk to you soon.

He’s too distracted by the shining chandeliers hanging from the hallway’s ceiling that he doesn’t realize he’s going to run into someone until it happens.

“I’m so sorry.” Steve begins to say, steadying the person in front of him until he realizes it’s you. “Your highness.”

You keep him from bowing with a gentle hand on his shoulder and a smile. There it is, that smile. “Hi Steve.”

“H-Hi!” He runs a hand through his hair, looking for the right words to compliment you as his eyes take you in. “You look really beautiful.”

Beautiful. There it is, the only word that comes to Steve mind but doesn’t begin to cover your beauty. You’re in a deep blue gown, its big skirt flowing around you like the ocean and shimmering like the night sky. It’s got beautiful tiny jewels scattered all around the bodice and skirt, and Steve thinks you’re a work of art standing in front of him. Surely you can’t be real?

“Thank you.” You smile, looking down. “You look very handsome yourself.

Steve can’t help but smile at your compliment, before he remembers the ball. “Thank you, I hope I’m not too late?”

Your laugh follows his question, and it’s not unkind, it’s amused. “Not at all, I’m running late myself. My stepsister ruined my other dress.”

“I can’t help but be glad they did.” Steve says, surprising himself.

You smile at him shyly but meet his eyes nonetheless. “I guess you’re right.”

“If Robin is here.” Steve whispers conspiratorially with a step closer to you, “I’m sure we can take some light revenge on them.”

Steve’s heart soars when you giggle and nod. “I think we should.”

A door opens suddenly, not too far away from the top of you and two men step outside. “There you are princess, everyone is waiting for you.”

You nod at them before you look at Steve nervously, face loosing its natural color. “Would you like to dance the first song with me? I’d feel much better walking in there with someone I know.”

Steve is speechless for a moment but he nods, with your pretty eyes looking up at him how can he say no. He’s not much of a dancer but he’d make a fool of himself over and over again if it meant more time with you. He smiles, trying to ease your nerves. “Of course.”

You take Steve’s outstretched hand into yours, relishing in the comfort it brings once he squeezes it in reassurance. A feeling of breathlessness settles over you and not as a result of the nerves you feel. It seems to happen every time you look at Steve; it’s like his heart is reflected in his eyes, a quick glimpse at it if you know where to look. The only thing that snaps you out of your trance is the sparks that fly when you step closer to him on your way to the ballroom. Sparks that make your fingers tingle, the sensation travelling all the way up you arm and down to your stomach.

Everyone bows in front of you when you step into the ballroom, a sea of people that keep their eyes trained on your every move. It’s overwhelming, it always is, and your grip on Steve’s hand tightens as the two of you descend the stairs.  

“I won’t let you fall.” Steve whispers next to your ear. “I promise.”

You chuckle and feel your shoulders relax, you’re not sure why but you trust Steve. More than you trust most people. He leads you to the middle of the ballroom, every step controlled and known by heart. His mother must have taken him to dance lessons, you presume as you offer him a courtesy when he bows in front of you. Steve asks for your permission to hold your waist with a glance down with his eyes. You nod your head and let him pull you closer by the waist, a shaky breath escaping you at the proximity.

Everyone is looking at the two of you, but for once you don’t mind. Not one bit. If it were another time, if you were accompanied by someone else, you’d feel the weight of every pair of eyes. It would be suffocating, but you look at the brown eyes in front of you and find that breathing has never been easier.

“I must warn you.” You smile as you gaze up at him. “I’m not that good of a dancer.”

Steve chuckles at your words, his hand a comforting weight on your waist. “Good, because I’m not very good either.”

“Lord help us.” You giggle and it makes Steve smile.

It turns out, that the two of you are perfect together.

The moment the music starts your steps synchronize perfectly, with Steve leading the waltz and your body following the path he traces for both of you. When the melody from the violins and cellos swells around you, Steve twirls you around, his fingers hanging on to yours as he holds you hand over your head. You spin and smile, always going back to his arms that are ready to hold you —your faces remain close together, noses close to brushing, and eyes never straying from the other’s. Even as you turn and the music envelops you, your eyes remain fixed on Steve’s brown ones and the warmth in them.

Guests join you on the dance floor but it’s like they’re not there, only you and Steve moving to the rhythm of the music as if you’ve done it thousands of times. Steve’s hands are gentle but secure on your waist, especially when you jump and he lifts you briefly in the air. The two of you smile incredulously at each other. How is it possible to be so incredibly connected to someone else just hours after you first meeting?

“Princess.” Steve says over the music, his eyes showing you his heart once again.

The smile that’s already on your face only grows. “Yes?”

The handsome man in front of you shakes his head. “I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

The chandeliers in the ceiling paint constellations in his brown eyes, make his brown waves shine, and cause your heart to flutter in your chest. You squeeze the hand that holds yours as the music comes to an end. “Me too, Steve.”

Everyone applauds the band, and it brings you back to the present and the ball around you. You can feel the King’s gaze on you, as well as your stepmother’s and stepsisters. It creates an immediate urge for you to get away, and lead Steve far away from your stepfamily’s unkind looks. He’s in your orbit now, whatever hatred they have over you falls on him as well; Steve doesn’t deserve it. Not after the wonderful dance you’ve just hand.

“Would you like to see the gardens?” You ask him.

Your question brings a smile to his face as he gives you a nod and offers his arm. “Won’t they miss you?”

You look at the dancing folk, all of them entertained by the music and the array of food on the sides of the room. You sigh happily, glad that the villagers are enjoying themselves. “I’m sure they’ll be more than fine without me.”

The two of you walk side by side as you guide Steve to the garden, your hand over his arm where it’s linked to yours. Once you step outside you can’t help but smile at the beautiful night that greets you. The roses are blooming under the moonlight, their white petals glowing with its light. You point to different flowers around the garden as you stroll around the gravel path, answering Steve’s questions about your favourite ones. You walk around the fountain in the middle garden, listening to the trickling water as you get to know each other more.

At some point, you hear music playing again, from inside the palace, and Steve offers you his hand to lead another waltz. A laugh bubbles up from within you as you give him your hand and begin to dance with him, feeling silly but also very young and alive. When was the last time you felt like that?  The conversation continues between the two of you as you dance, words joining your steps. You learn that Steve is an only child and one year older than you; he doesn’t live in the village but it’s where he works. You share with him too, mentioning how it’s just you and your dad in the castle since your mother passed. You comment on your father remarrying years ago and you being unsure of your feelings about that it.  

“I haven’t seen you at any other events at the palace.” You tell Steve, linking your arm with his when the song is over.

Steve sighs and scratches his chin with his free hand. “I know, it’s just my parents… we quarrel often, and I end up suffering the consequences.”

“They don’t let you attend?” You turn your face to glance at him.

“Nope,” Steve smiles; it’s not the happy one you’ve seen all night, this one’s sad almost disappointed. “I’m not deserving of the Harrington name apparently.”

You furrow your eyebrows while you go over his words. You’ve seen Lord Harrington before, and you see the resemblance in Steve’s face, but it’s impossible to believe that such a cold man could have such a wonderful son. It’s not impossible though, to believe that they’re as cruel as Steve paints them to be. You’ve experienced many of your own quarrels with you stepmother.

“I don’t think it’s the same, but if it’s any consolation…” You tell him with what you hope is a comforting look. “My stepmother and stepsisters convinced my father not to let me visit the village.”

Steve’s face whips towards you. “What? Why?”

You shrug, trying to dismiss the hurt that comes from the thought of them. “I think they just want to make my life miserable, but I don’t think they’re succeeding.” A smile makes its way to your face as you glance a Steve.  

“Oh really?” Steve smiles back, looking at you. “Why is that?”  

You smile at him and look away feeling sheepish before you even speak. “The one day I finally convince my father to let me visit the village, I meet you. Then at the ball they forced me to attend, I get to see you again.”

Steve shakes his head, and scratches his chin flustered. It makes you smile, knowing you’re not the only one nervous tonight. “How do you know it’s not bad luck?” He chuckles, then looks up, eyes wide, like he wasn’t supposed to say it out loud.

“I think it’s quite the opposite.” You shrug and move your hold from his arm to his hand, hoping to give him comfort. It’s hard to fight the frown that wants to take over your face, what has he been told by his family? “Don’t think lowly of yourself only because other people think so, Steve. We are all more than other people’s opinions you know.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you, before you spot the path ahead and show it to Steve. Your eyes light up even as your stomach flips when you look at the boy next to you. “Come on, you have to see this!”

Steve watches you go down a hidden path between some trees; it’s barely visible, he wouldn’t have known it was there if you hadn’t just disappeared through it. He is quick to follow, worried you’ll hurt yourself, or sprain your ankle as you run over the grass. As he passes in between the trees, he finds an even bigger one right in front of him. It must be 200 years old with how much it’s grown but there’s a low branch that you’ve just reached. You hold yourself up with one hand as you take of your shoes –they’re covered in jewels, just like your dress and they glint in the moonlight that sneaks through the tree’s leaves.

“I can take those for you.” Steve offers with a smile, which you return. He leaves the shoes on the ground and kneels down so you can use his knee as a step to climb the tree. By the dexterity with which you get on the branch and then another, Steve knows you must do this every day. It makes him smile, yet another thing he now knows about you, something to like you even more.

“Come on, Steve!” You call for him and he chuckles.

Steve grabs your shoes and begins to climb after you, wanting to stay close to you in case something happens. “Be careful, you can trip on your dress!” He tells you as he makes his way to you.

There is a small tree house two branches off the ground, hidden perfectly from view from the castle and the grass below. In front of him there’s a small balcony, where you stand, overlooking the countryside and the small village below. It’s breathtaking, and Steve knows right away this must be where you escape to in the castle.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it!” You smile, voice bringing Steve’s gaze back to you where it stays.

Steve feels speechless once again, looking at you so close to him, your eyes reflecting the small light coming from the village. “Yes.” He says, but his eyes are scanning your face instead of the view. Beautiful not only on the outside but on the inside as well. He still can’t forget your words from earlier, they resonate inside his mind like a foreign reminder that he shouldn’t be so hard on himself.

“You’ve worked with Lady Francis for long?” You ask him after a few moments of comfortable silence

“Yeah,” Steve nods, placing his hands on the wooden handrail in front of him. “I mean a couple of years; She’s needed the help since she lost her boy.”

You nod your head as he speaks, moving so you’re looking at him directly. “That’s very kind of you. She’s a lovely person, I’ve met her a couple of times.”

Steve shrugs, he’s never considered it something to call attention to. To him it’s… “Tt’s the right thing to do.” He says, then decides to ask you something too –more than eager to know you more. “What about you? Do you know when your next visit to the village will be?”

You frown and Steve feels the urge to do whatever is necessary to make you happy.  “I’m not sure, my stepmother and sisters…they convinced my father to give me an ultimatum a few months ago.”

“Ultimatum?” Steve furrows his brows, whatever you’re about to say next doesn’t sound good.

“My father claims he is getting older and worries about me being alone.” You sigh and turn back to look down at the village. Steve doesn’t miss the longing in your eyes. “He says I need someone to take care of me, even though I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

Steve puts two and two together right away. “So he wants you to…”

“To get married, yes.” You nod, swallowing hard and shaking your head. “Right away, and I’m truly afraid I’ll be forced to be with someone that’s not right for me instead of someone I know or someone I like.” Your eyes meet his and for a moment he feels like you’re talking about him –it makes his next breath catch on his throat. Would they really make you marry someone you don’t even know?

Indignation floods Steve in the blink of an eye, at your agency being stripped away from you and the fact you worry about this at all.

“I–” Steve begins to say but voices coming from the garden make the two of you quiet down.

“Guards.” You whisper, standing behind Steve to keep yourself out of sight should they find the path.

“I can’t believe we lost the princess, AGAIN!” One voice says, clearly frustrated.

“Well, keep looking. The King wants to see her back at the ballroom at once.” Another one replies, and a moment later only the sound of retreating footsteps can be heard.

You frown, voice soft but forlorn. “They’ll come again, maybe we should be getting back.”

Steve only nods and climbs down the tree first, so he can help you descend the last branch safely. Once back on the grass, Steve puts your shoes on the ground and holds out his arms for you. “Jump,” He says, “I’ll catch you.”

You don’t hesitate, jumping into his arms a second later. Steve is swift to catch you; you’re safe and unscathed, making Steve’s worry of you falling fade away.

It is then he notices your faces are barely 3 inches apart –Steve can even feel your breath mingling with his, just as it did when you waltzed in the palace. His heart hammers like crazy on his chest, he’s sure you feel it.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, and he nods putting you back down on the ground.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Steve offers, kneeling on the grass to help you with your shoes.

He’s glad you can’t see his face, which feels scalding hot as you lift part of your dress’ skirt so he can tie your shoes back into place. It’s just an ankle, Steve reminds himself, calm down. He moves to tie the second shoes for you, but just then the palace’s clock strikes the last minute till midnight.

Steve stands up quickly. “Oh no.”

Your face is nothing but confusion as you look at him. “What?”

“I have to go right now. But I’ll find a way to see you again.” Steve says in a rush as reaches for both your hands. “There has to be a way.”

You nod, pretty eyes looking worriedly at him and still confused. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes.” Steve is quick to reassure you. “Thank you, for everything tonight.”

Before he can overthink it, he leans in and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, princess.”  Then he kisses your right hand and starts to run. He needs to find his horse so he can be home before his parents, he can’t imagine the mess he’d be in if they found out.  Steve risks one glance over his shoulder and sees you stand there, bathed in moonlight. There has to be a way.

----

Steve sleeps like a baby all night; he hid his clothes back in his closet, sure that the magic would disappear from them eventually, and went straight to bed. He woke up in a good mood, better than any other day just from the memory of the night before. He is sure not to show it around the house though, the last thing he needs is his parents suspecting something. Steve acts downright miserable as he descends the stairs and grabs some breakfast from the kitchen. His frown remains on his face until he’s put enough distance between himself and the house to smile freely, a skip to his step as he walks down the road to the village. He forgets his umbrella, having looked at the grey sky in the morning, but he doesn’t dare return to the house. He can’t hide his smile again, even though there’s one nagging thought in the back of his mind.

Was all of it real? Would he even see you again? Should he forget about it, save himself the disappointment?

For once, Robin is at the store before him. She smiles knowingly when she spots his happy demeanour. “You little shit.” She says, with a shake of her head. “You little shit!”

“What?” Steve asks, side stepping her to go through the store’s front door.

“You were there last night!” Robin lowers her voice to a whisper. “You were the mysterious man that danced with the princess.”

Steve is so surprised he can’t hide the surprise on his face; he imagined Robin was giving him shit for something else he did. Never this.

“I fucking knew it!” She grabs his shirt sleeve and drags him to the backroom. “How did you do it?”

“How did you know!” Steve asks instead. Did the spell wear off at some point? Did the fairy lie to him?

“The princess, obviously.” Robin tells him with an eyeroll, sitting on the desk nearby. “She came up to me last night. She told me you said I could help with a little revenge, and I said, ‘Steve said that?’ Then she said ‘yes, I told him earlier how my stepsisters ruined my other dress’ Which by the way I’m thankful for, did you see that navy dress on her?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and begins to speak in between a smile. “Of course, I did, I–” He stops when his mind catches up to Robin’s words.

Fuck, he forgot to tell you he wasn’t supposed to be there. On the other hand, how weird would that have been? I got my face magic-ed so no one recognizes me. Yeah, no, Steve knows you’re an intelligent woman, so you probably figured it out on your own.

“What did you do?” He asks, shaking his thoughts away.

“Oh!” Robin’s eyes light up. “We accidentally knocked some punch over; I think you can imagine the rest.”

Steve laughs, imagining the two of you pulling a prank on your stepsisters. From what Steve heard about them from you, they had it coming. His laughter though, stops as soon as it starts and his stomach drops. What if… “Did you see my parents talk to the Princess?” He asks Robin.

“What?” Robin’s own giggles are cut short by the random question, then her eyebrows furrow as she tries to recall the night before. “No, I don’t think so. She danced a couple of songs with her father and swerved every prince that came to Indiana to dance with her.”

Steve lets out a breath. “Okay that’s good. They can’t know I was there.”

“You’re really going to make me ask.”

“Ask what?” Steve shrugs, knowing exactly what she means but stalling for time. There is no sane way to tell her about the fairy’s visit.

Robin groans, looking up at the ceiling before meeting Steve’s eyes with a curious gaze. “How did you manage to go and not be recognized?”

“You won’t believe me.” He shakes his head and looks away as his hands settle on his hips. Up until he talked to Robin, he was going to convince himself he dreamed all of it. The fairy, the ball, you, your conversation. Everything. But knowing Robin saw the two of you dance and hear about him from you, is all he needs to know that it was real. If it was real, he can’t forget it. He got really lucky last night, for some unknown reason.

“’Course I’ll believe you, try me.” Robin pushes her chin up, daring Steve to tell her the truth.

Steve does. He tells her about asking for permission but being forbidden from attending the ball. How he locked himself in his room, wished he could go, and a fairy appeared out of nowhere. Steve explains how the fairy gave him some of her magic to make him unrecognizable to everyone except the princess, which of course makes Robin laugh out loud.

He rolls his eyes, even though this is the reaction he expected her to have. Robin laughs for another minute before she puts her hands up, claiming she believes him.

“I do!” She says. “It sounds more possible than what I had in mind?”

“Which was?” Steve asks curiously.

“A very realistic mask.” Robin shrugs, and Steve shakes his head with a chuckle.

After a moment of silence, Steve speaks up again. “Robin, she’s…”

“Perfect?” His friend prompts, batting her eyelashes mockingly.

“Yes.” Steve sighs, wishing she wouldn’t interrupt so much. “But–”

“And you’re crushing hard on her, I saw the two of you dance, I’d say go for it.”

“What?” Now Steve is really lost. He was going to tell her about the predicament you’re in; being forced to marry thank to your stepmother’s manipulation. Just thinking about it makes Steve clench his hands into fists. And he thought his life was unfair.

“Ask her out and court her dingus!” Robin flicks him on the nose, bringing him back to the present. “You didn’t see the way she looked at you, but I did.”

“I can’t.” Steve shakes his head in frustration, pressing his fists on the wooden table in front of him.

“Why?” Robin looks at him as if he grew another head. “Of course, you can.”

“Don’t you remember? My father is head of the house and has to make the courtship official.” Steve can’t keep the defeat out of his voice. “You know he’d never approve.”

His friend shrugs and offers a quick solution. “Forge his approval then!”

Robin’s answer catches Steve by surprise and shocked laughter bursts out of him. He shakes his head after a moment, back to reality. “Forge it so when I court the princess and he finds out he can go to the palace and say it’s all a fraud? The King could ban me from seeing his daughter because I’m a liar apart from a disappointment!”

“Steve.” Robin sighs, a frown pulls her lips downwards. “You’re overthinking this too much. How about we wait until the princess comes back to town and ask her personally.”

Steve groans and throws his hands up in exasperation before turning around and walking towards the backroom where he will stay until the end of the shift. It’s not like what Robin said isn’t feasible, he can do it –he’d love to offer you his hand in courtship really. But you’re not coming to town any time soon, the only time your family allowed it was before the ball. With no other event in sight, the chances of Steve seeing you again are close to zero. The worst part, and what’s eating at Steve inside, is that he promised to see you again; he was so full of fondness and adoration, so completely gone for you that he didn’t think past that moment. All he had known was that he hated to leave you in the garden and wanted to see you again as soon as possible. He didn’t realize he’d need an invitation to the palace to see you, too caught up in the moment to think that you visiting the town would be difficult to the say the least. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Steve’s sour mood follows him all afternoon –he manages a small smile towards Robin when he says goodbye but that’s all. Grey clouds still loom overhead while he walks home, taking the long way back to avoid walking in on dinner time. The last thing he needs is to sit through unbearable silence and disappointed staring from his parents across the table. But as Steve’s luck usually goes, things don’t go as he planned them to. Even the sky seems to foresee what’s in store, as droplets of rainwater begin falling down onto Steve like tears coming from the clouds above.

The house is quiet when he arrives and only a couple of candles have been lit in the hallway leading to the staircase. It’s odd and it’s a bit worrying, and that is saying something in Steve’s house. Foolishly, he grabs the umbrella he forgot that morning and goes up the stairs to his room –call him paranoid, but he’d rather have something in hand if necessary. There is no one in the upstairs hall, or the library, but two frightening figures stand by the window in his room. His mother and father, look out the window silently and don’t turn around until he speaks up.

“Mom?” Steve is more than confused as he furrows his eyebrows and looks between the two of them. “Is something wrong?”

“Can you explain why you had this in your closet?” His mother replies, pointing a finger at his bed.

His clothes from last night, exactly as they were when the fairy changed them. They never changed back as he hoped they would, and now his parents know.

“Uh… I don’t… I mean–” Steve fumbles for an excuse.

“I thought I was clear when I said you couldn’t go to the ball.” His father speaks up, turning around slowly and pinning him down with a cold stare. ���You disobeyed my direct order and danced with the princess risking embarrassing us further. I don’t even want to know how you fooled us.”

Steve feels unable to speak as he stares into his father’s eyes; a kind of darkness makes a fleeting appearance in them, and it makes Steve fear the worst. “Very well, you give me no choice.” His father’s eyes leave him for a moment as he scans the room with distaste. “You’re forbidden to leave the house… no, your room, except for chores.”

“What?” Steve drops the umbrella he was holding, and it clatters on the ground. He can’t even remember to control his reaction in front of his parents as his eyebrows furrow in anger. “You can’t do that! I have a job; I need to go to town!”

“I can and I will.” His father’s voice echoes in room as it increases in volume; his eyes burn with disappointment and annoyance. “Forget your mediocre job, forget about the princess. You’re not leaving this house again until I send you away for good. You hear me?”

Steve’s mother remains silent and doesn’t spare him much of a glance as she follows her husband out of the room. The door closes with a loud slam and the doorknob moves briefly as the lock is put in place from the outside. Thunder booms in the sky and Steve flinches; his entire body shakes in anger. He clenches his fists by his sides but just as quickly as the anger enters his body, it leaves. Steve’s shoulders hunch in defeat and soon begin to shake, he can’t help it anymore, he allows himself to cry.

----

You knew that Steve’s promise would be hard to keep. It was a given that considering you’re not allowed into town; he would have to be the one to visit you at the palace. But without an invitation, that was near impossible to happen. From that knowledge, you’ve sent many –to his home and Lady Francis’ store– but there’s been no answer. The ones sent to Lord Harrington’s house have been returned, unopened and with a note claiming there is no Steve Harrington living with them. The same didn’t happen with the ones sent to his workplace —those never returned. You hoped Robin would give them to Steve and that he’d come to the palace the next day, with that smile of his –the one you can’t stop thinking about– fully in display as he goes through the gates.

No such luck.

With no response from Steve and refusing your father’s attempts to marry you off to some of the princes that attended the ball… life at the palace had become almost unbearable. It was full of fighting, spinster jokes from your stepsisters and threats from your stepmother. You’d resorted to avoiding the family altogether, spending your time alone remembering the night of the ball and regretting it soon after.

How is it that you can miss someone so much after seeing them in two separate occasions? You imagine because this someone is Steve, and you’re convinced he’s the person you’ve always dreamed of finding. He’s kind, funny, gentle, caring, not to mention how handsome he it. You can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how much you try. It's been that way for two weeks, with him invading your mind and you trying to avoid it to spare yourself the pain.

Something must have happened. You’re sure of it. Steve wouldn’t leave you hanging, he’d at least try to send a response out for you. It unsettles something in your stomach to think about him in trouble for attending the ball. What if his father, Lord Harrington Senior, did something to him. Did he realize Steve went to the ball? What if Steve’s hurt? Or worse, just as lonely as you are right now.

If this is about the ball and the magical moments you shared together, you had to do something and try to fix it. You refuse to let that night become a bad memory for both of you, a what if that never came to be. You both deserve more, you want more, and if it’s in your hands to propose it then you will.

You take determined steps towards the King’s meeting chamber, accepting his latest invitation to dialogue, and ready to fight for what you want. The guards open the chamber’s door for you, revealing the room’s white marbled floor and the paintings of past Kings and Queens that hang from the wall. Your father sits on his chair, your stepmother stands by the right-side window and several of the King’s advisors talk quietly in different corners. You walk until you stand in front of him, a big oak table between the two of you.

“Father.” You greet him as a start, staring into his eyes that are a mirror to yours. “I’m here to speak on the matter your insistence of me marrying.”

“You’ve accepted Prince Reese’s proposal then.” He smiles happily, motioning you to sit down in front of him. You don’t.

“I haven’t accepted anyone’s proposal.” You say firmly. “I refuse any further attempt to marry me off to any of these Princes.”

The King raises an eyebrow, a mannerism the two of you got from your mother. “I was very clear when we spoke about this last time, my darling.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t agree to anything last time, father. You imposed something onto me without asking for my opinion first.”

“There will be no more discussion about this.” Your father stands up, disgruntled with your continuous debate.

“Yes there will be.” You raise your chin with determination. “I’m going to court Lord Steve Harrington. I wish to get to know him.”

The king shakes his head, eyebrows meeting in the middle. “Regardless of his title, his father hasn’t been around to announce any proposal.”

“I’m asking him.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes and remain serene instead.

“You can’t.” Your father clutches his chair’s headrest, patience growing thin.

“I have agency!”

“No, you don’t!” His words make you flinch, but you refuse to take a step back, you won’t give him any more ground to stand on. “You need to get married, as soon as possible.”

You take a deep breath willing yourself to keep a calm posture, but a single voice speaks up and throws that willingness out of the window.

“Listen to your father, my dear.” Your stepmother says with a condescending look and a fake sweet voice.

Your gaze moves to hers with a glare before you close your eyes and scream. “OUT! EVERYONE OUT, PLEASE. RIGHT NOW!”

You look around the room, daring your father’s loathsome advisors to question you but they soon scatter out of the room. “I wish to speak to my father alone.” You say, looking into the King’s eyes but clearly addressing your stepmother that still lingers to your left.

A huff and the clicking of heels soon follow, until it’s only you and the man in front of you in the room. The King and the Princess. One sad and scared since the Queen he loved so dearly passed, the other scared the opportunity for a love like her parents’ is slipping through her fingers.

You walk around the table with a sigh and approach your father until you take his hands into yours. “Father, weren’t you and mother best friends before you married?”

“That’s different my dear.” He sighs, a frown tugging at his lips as it always does at the memory of the person he loved most in the world. “We knew each other for a long time; it was natural for us to fall in love and get married.”

You sigh just like him and squeeze his hands. “I would already know Steve, father, had the circumstances been different. He’s worked at Lady Francis’ for 3 years, but I haven’t seen him because I haven’t been allowed into town.”

Your gaze moves back to your father’s eyes, hoping he can see your feelings in them. “I ask you, please father, I beg you to see things my way. I’m scared you’ll marry me off to some stranger when I want to get to know Steve. I really think he’s the one. You saw me that night, when was the last time I smiled so much?”

The King lets go of your hands and puts them behind his back; he turns and takes a few steps, deep in thought. “Too long.” He says finally, eyebrows meeting in the middle of his face, the crease that’s already there getting deeper. “Go to town and bring him to the palace so I can meet him properly.”

A gasp escapes you just as a smile takes over your face. You walk towards your father and hug him tightly, feeling a weigh lift off your shoulders. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Is all you say before turning around and running out of the room, your dress floating behind you as you do.

You’re at the palace’s gates in no time, out of breath but beaming as the guards open the metal doors for you. Two others trail behind you, struggling to catch up as you make a run for it to town. You can tell the villagers are surprised to see you –their princess running through the streets is not a common sight for them. “Good morning!” You tell the people you pass. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

They don’t have time to answer as you rush past them and keep running until you spot Lady Francis’ shop, its cream and blue exterior a welcoming sight. Your smile is beaming as you walk through the open door and look around the shop. “Hello?”

There’s rustling coming from the second floor followed by hurried steps and a familiar voice. “Princess Y/N?” Robin’s head pops up from the second-floor railing. You strain your neck to look up at her, and smile.

“Hi Robin.” Your hand comes up in a small wave. “Is Steve around?”

Robin’s surprised look turns sad, it’s confirmation enough that something had indeed happened just like you imagined. How bad, you’re still unsure. “What happened to him? Is he okay?”

“I– I don’t know, he hasn’t been back in two weeks.” Robin descends the stairs until she’s standing in front of you, she tries to bow but you stop her with a shake of your head. “His parents have trapped him in his own house. I tried to give him the invitations you sent here but Lord Harrington –Steve’s dad– only yelled at me.”

“No.” You whisper and shake your head. Bringing a hand up to your hair you go over Robin’s words, your gaze down at the ground as you pace. “Did you tell him the invitations were from the Palace?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, her short hair bouncing as she does. “Yes, but he didn’t care!”

“Hm… We must help him, there’s got to be something we can do. My father wants to meet him.” You talk both to yourself and to Robin, hoping that voicing your thoughts will help you come up with something when suddenly, just like lightning, your eyes widen with clarity. “My father wants to meet him.”

Robin looks at you blankly for a moment, “I don’t think the King does house calls though?”

You keep your gaze on her, urging her to catch on to what you have in mind. “But they don’t have to know it’s not the real King, that’s visiting them… do they?”

Robin’s face lights up, a smile taking over her features, making her freckles stand out. “We bring a fake King! Demand to see Steve and the two of you live happily ever after”

You laugh and nod at her enthusiasm, feeling it cursing though your own body as well.  “We’ll need to raid my father’s closet and convince a few guards.” You tell Robin who matches your mischievous smile just like she did at the ball. “Are you in?”

---

Steve is tired when he walks back to his room –or prison, depending on your perspective– after a long day of chores around the house. He doesn’t complain about doing work around the house, not usually, but it seems as if his parents are taking all their frustrations out on him. His chores have doubled, the house seems to become a mess overnight, and every day without fail, someone yells at him for whatever mistake he makes. It’s exhausting, and it’s got no end in sight. Steve doesn’t know how much more he’ll be able to take.

His only refuge is going back to his room at the end of the day. He takes long baths after dinner where tries to forget each day so that by the time he’s in the safe comfort of his bed he can sleep peacefully. Thinking about the ball helps; Steve remembers the way he danced with you, the smile in both of your faces, and how right it felt. But sometimes, when Steve’s had a really bad day, he chastises himself for attending. If he hadn’t, well he wouldn’t be thinking of you day and night. He wouldn’t make up stupid scenarios in his head where he’s able to leave the house, ask to be your boyfriend, and keep you safe from anything or anyone that tries to hurt you. He wouldn’t be in this mess.

But as things usually go for him, he is in the middle of a mess of his own doing –no freedom, no princess, nothing.

Steve thinks he hears horses galloping in the distance as he makes his way to his bed, ready to lie down for a while before he takes a bath. It’s probably a caller for my father, he thinks as he sinks into the mattress and closes his eyes at the comfort. He lets out a long exhale and tries to release the tension on his shoulders when an incessant tapping comes from the window. Peeking one eye open, Steve looks to his right to find his two small canary friends — they stopped visiting since he got grounded as his window was locked that very same night. To say Steve is happy to see them would be understating the truth, so he gets off the bed as fast as he can and rushes to where they peck the window.

“Hey, you two.” Steve smiles despite the long and hard day he had. “How have you been?”

The canaries keep tapping the window with their small beaks, and Steve furrows his brows. They’re holding something, and they want Steve to see it. Crouching so that his eyes are levelled with the window’s lower edge, Steve catches a glimpse of periwinkle lilies clutched in their feet. “Those look like the ones I gave the princess.” Steve tells them, standing back up.

The birds begin flying around the window excitedly, their winds flapping as fast as they can manage. When Steve keeps standing there, confused, they tap the window again right in front of his face. Are they pointing at me? Steve wonders before his mind catches up to what they’re trying to say.

The horses he heard, the lilies and Steve. The princess is here to see Steve. “The princess is here to see me!” Steve exclaims and the birds fly again, chirping happily.

He laughs, and looks around the room, looking for a way to open the window –he has a very good reason to wreck it if needed. But before he can do any damage, he remembers the small window in the bathing chamber. It’s a tight fit but he can manage. “I know what to do.” He tells the canaries and takes off to the adjacent room.

Once in the bathing chamber, Steve moves the furniture around and begins to climb onto the dresser until he’s able to look out the small window. He is very high up from the ground, but hopefully, the vines covering the back of the house are sturdy enough to handle his weigh. He tries to be careful, but his priority is speed; there’s no way he’s going to risk missing you after his father tells you whatever lie he’s come up with. So Steve squeezes out of the window, facing upwards so that his hands can grab onto the vines and he can pull the rest of his body out. He begins to climb down as fast as he can, getting leaves and green stains on his clothes but he doesn’t mind. He jumps once he’s closer to the ground and runs towards the house��s main entrance, hiding behind some bushes when he hears his father’s voice.

“I don’t know a Steve Harrington.” His father says haltingly, probably looking down his nose as he speaks. “You’re in the wrong house.”

“I’ve talked to the villagers, and close friends of yours.” Your voice is calm but confident when you speak up; it soothes Steve like a healing balm. You’re here. “My father and I have been assured he lives here, and I doubt everyone decided to lie us.”

“Call the boy!” A strange voice says next, confusing Steve. Did the King come to see him too?

“My apologies.” Steve’s father says, not meaning it from the tone of his voice. “What I meant to say was, there’s no Steve Harrington living here anymore.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief and stands up; passing on an opportunity to expose his father as a liar? Not a chance. He steps out of his hiding place and walk to the front entrance where everyone has gathered.

You notice the movement right away and Steve feels all the air leave his lungs when your eyes meet his. It’s like the sky knows what’s happening right away, for the clouds part and a single ray of sunshine bathes you in light. The lavender coloured dress you wear looks beautiful on you, its embroidered sleeves and hem shimmering with the light. You look ethereal as you smile at him, and Steve is speechless. How did he become this lucky? To have met you, to see you again when it seemed more than unlikely, to have your affection.

If he’s this lucky, there’s no way he’s going to let this chance go. Before he knows it, his feet move him towards you, and he takes your hands once he’s close enough.

“Princess.” Steve says, sounding as breathless as he feels. He bows his head briefly before his eyes return to yours. “Hi.”

“Hi, Steve.” You smile, face instantly lighting up. You take a step closer to him, until your faces are inches apart, and you lean up to press your forehead against his. “I found you.”

Steve closes his eyes and sighs; he leans down and moves his face slightly to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, I’m here.”

“I summon you to the castle young man!” The strange voice speaks up once more, making Steve take a step back and look at its source.

Behind the princess stand six horses, all of them with riders except for yours that remains empty; next to it is a weird-looking man, with a slightly skewed mustache, big hat, and a turquoise coat that looks too big for him. That’s the King? He doesn’t look like he did at the night of the ball. Steve looks at him quizzically before looking back at you, ready to ask a question. You smile at him again though and raise your eyebrows subtly enough for him to know that this is your doing.

“Don’t you dare go without my permission, Steve Harrington!” Steve’s father warns, voice booming across the front yard. Steve finds that it doesn’t make him flinch like it used to, and he is able to turn around and face his father with confidence and no fear.

“You’re not even properly dressed!” His mother exclaims a second later, glancing down at his stained clothing.

Steve looks down too, assessing the dirt marks and splashes of green the vines left behind. He couldn’t go to meet your father like this, could he? He looks nothing like the man he danced with you two weeks ago, at least not with the clothes he’s currently wearing. He’s about to speak up, tell you he’s not properly dressed and look for a solution when the solution presents itself.

A twinkling periwinkle light floats out from the garden and circles Steve twice; it leaves sparkling dust behind, and in a matter of seconds Steve’s clothes change. You gasp as you see the magical transformation. Steve’s work trousers have changed into well-tailored dark grey ones and his stained shirt has been replaced for a crisp and clean white one and a navy blue embroidered coat. Even his boots have been shined and his hair combed back into place, just like the night of the ball. He’ll be sure to have lots of periwinkle flowers at lady Francis’ shop from now on, as a thank you.

“Actually, father.” Steve smiles, looking into his father’s eyes. “I can leave without your permission, and I don’t think I’m coming back.”

“We don’t want your things here either!” His father says, turning around and heading back to the house, completely unfazed by Steve’s words.

“I’ll be back for them.” Steve calls out as he shrugs. “Right now, the King wants to talk to me.”

The front door closes with a loud slam and with it a big weight lifts from Steve’s shoulders; he finds that even breathing feels easier out of the house.

You take his hand a moment later, your fingers fitting perfectly intertwined with his as you look up at him softly. “What you just did was very brave, Steve. Are you okay?”

“More than okay, my Princess.” Steve smiles and presses his forehead against yours briefly. “Let’s go.”

You smile and nod before you get on your horse and wait for Steve to retrieve his. Once everyone is ready, all seven horses leave the Harrington residence, their footfalls leaving a trail of dust behind them. The King reveals himself then, taking off his moustache and hat to show that it was Robin on the horse all along. The three of you laugh with disbelief but most of all, with pure happiness. Steve catches your eyes a moment later, feeling his cheeks and hurt from the emotion that is consumes him from within. Never in a million years he would have believed this could happen to him, that the girl of his dreams would come to rescue him. Still, there’s something in the back of his mind that he needs to address.

“Can I talk to you alone?” Steve asks you, hating the open-ended question that makes your smile falter —no wonder imagining the worst. “It’s nothing bad I promise!”

You nod your head and gallop ahead to talk to one of the guards leading the way back to the palace. Soon enough, all of you are stopping near a clear water spring by the edge of the forest. The horses drink, the guards rest and Robin sits by the edge of the spring while the two of you move further away.

“I’m sorry.” Steve says, once you’re alone. Looking at you with the remorse he feels. “I’m so sorry. I told you I’d look for a way, but I wasn’t able to leave the house.” He sees the way you smile softly, the small breath you let out as you look at him with so much care, he can barely bare it.

Steve moves closer to you and gently holds your face in his hands, your skin is soft beneath his touch. “I’m very sorry, Y/N.” He whispers.

Your hands move to cover his, much smaller and gentle in their touch. Steve feels your thumbs caress the back of his hands as you speak softly. “Don’t be sorry, Steve.” You whisper, “I understand. I’ve been doing some work on my side too.”

Steve furrows his brows. “What kind of work?”

“You’re the kindest, most wonderful, caring and unbearably attractive person I know. I can’t even find the words that’ll do you justice.” Your smile is blinding as you beam up at him and take his hands into yours. “If your dad won’t allow you to propose a courtship, then I will propose it to you Steve Harrington. I’d love nothing more than get to know you, and let you get to know me. So, um.. w-what do you say?”

Steve feels his eyes roam your face as his mind catches up and makes sense of your words and what you’re proposing. You look up at him, pretty eyes shining with expectation and worry as you hold his hand between the two of you. Steve smiles. As if him saying no could be possible. With a soft shake of his head, Steve leans in and kisses you, letting out a low sound of content and melting with a single kiss. He feels you sigh against his lips and lets go of your hands to hold you face instead; his face moves to the right, allowing for a more comfortable angle as his lips slowly brush against yours until you’re too breathless to continue.

“Yes.” Steve says, his forehead pressing against yours. He’s pretty sure you’re not allowed to kiss, but none of you seem to care. “Of course I accept, princess. I’ll prove myself worthy of you.”

Steve feels the moment you shake your head. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me Steve.” You whisper.

Overwhelmed with your words, Steve ducks his head and brushes his nose against the side of yours. He places a kiss to the corner of your mouth and whispers your name. “I really, really like you. You don’t know how much.”

You move to look up into Steve’s eyes and place a hand on his cheek. “I really like you too, Steve.”

Steve smiles, and you do too, both of you feeling immersed in your own little world; basking in the happiness the day has brought. It is only when one of your horses whines in the distance that Steve speaks up. “We should get going, you said your father is waiting.”

You look around you before smiling at Steve again. “Just one more.” You tell him, bringing his face closer to yours and kissing him again.

Steve can’t help but smile against your lips as he places his hands on your waist and kisses you back. This is all he ever wanted but never thought he could have —his princess, happiness, his freedom. Both of your eyes are closed, completely absorbed in the moment, and too focused on each other to notice the way the breeze picks up and plucks periwinkle leaves from their flowers; they swirl around you as you let your affection take over for just a moment. A moment that unbeknownst to you, will turn into another, and another, until the happily ever after both you and Steve have longed for finally arrives. The two of you hand in hand, living a loving, happy, and fulfilling life the kingdom will remember for centuries to come.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington angst

[labradork]

I'm so frustrated. Rant under the cut.

So I guess I'd say Milo is dog selective. He went through a phase of barking and lunging at bigger dogs, and especially GSDs, which we worked through. But when he meets dogs, it's like a 50/50 chance that he'll get along with them or suddenly tense up and snap. And I think that's because of experiences he's had in the past: twice now we've had off-lead dogs run up to us, get right in Milo's face and then attack him completely unprovoked. On his first birthday three mastiff-looking dogs started fighting him at my feet, and I had to drop his lead and watch them chase him. Luckily he wasn't physically hurt but it was fucking traumatic, for both of us. Even after that he was okay until something similar happened in the woods near our house. After that he developed reactivity to bigger dogs, which we spent a lot of time and effort working through, and now he can comfortably pass dogs as long as they aren't right in his face.

So while I'd love for him to meet and befriend every dog we see, I made the decision to not let him meet strange dogs on walks because I don't think it's worth the risk of him snapping. I mostly take him to on-lead parks or walk him along busy roads to avoid meeting off-lead dogs for this reason.

So today at the on-lead park (on-lead because it's a habitat for several native birds, and this is clearly signposted around the park) probably 90% of the dogs we saw were off-lead. And some of them were calmly walking alongside their owner and left us alone. Fine.

We got to one of the car parks and someone opened a car door and a cocker spaniel started running at us. She was small and wasn't the type of dog Milo usually has a problem with but like I said, I don't like to take the risk. I called over to be careful because he isn't friendly and they tried and failed to recall her while I moved away.

We take opposite directions around the loop and eventually meet again, and again their dog runs up to Milo and ignores their recall. The dog is right beside us before I can move away and I don't have a lot of choice this time - and they greeted each other and were fine, which I had kinda suspected would be the case, and the other owners said he seemed fine and I explained that having been attacked in the past he can get scared when dogs run at him and he's on the lead, and that I just avoid meeting all dogs to avoid the risk. I say it's frustrating because sometimes he is friendly but I don't want to put other dogs at risk.

The guy nods and seems sympathetic but the lady starts telling me about the wonders of Cesar Milan and how she's trained her dog perfectly by hitting her when she misbehaves. She tries to demonstrate her perfectly trained dog by pointing down at her side and telling the dog to sit. Her dog ignores her. Milo moves to her side and sits. She continues explaining how her dog is perfectly trained and I need to "be tough" and "show him I'm the boss" and beat him. I suck at conflict so I just keep nodding til she runs out of things to say, then say it was nice to meet them and leave.

I constantly feel guilty that Milo isn't like "normal" dogs. I worry that I'm just too anxious, that I did something wrong or am doing something wrong. I wish I cared less so I could let my dog run around the woods and get in fights and act like it's not my fault like people have done to us. Part of me feels ridiculous and overdramatic, but another part of me has seen Milo be attacked and seen him snap at other dogs and I just don't want to break up another fucking dog fight on a quiet walk on my day off. I'm running out of places where I can safely walk my dog without constantly worrying about other people's dogs.

Mostly I'm angry. MY dog is on a lead. I'm FOLLOWING THE RULES. And other people treat me like an idiot because they aren't. It feels unfair. And I feel stupid for expecting fairness. And I'm sick of people who don't know what they're talking about telling me to hit my dog because that was NOT the first time I've been given that advice by someone with no control over their own dog and it makes me fucking sick.

#rant #personal #if anyone wants to give advice pls be gentle #because im really trying my best #reactive dog

[free-for-all-fics]

Either Namor or Attuma fic ideas. Pls tag me if you write or get inspired by any of these. Like always, there are no rules. (Warning: Some of these may possibly have Dark! Fic leanings/potential and will be marked with 🥀. If Dark! Fics aren’t your thing, that’s okay. Just ignore those prompts. Please don’t harass me or others or start arguments in the comments. Thank you.)

1. While scuba diving in an underwater cave system full of beautiful stones and underwater plants, you get lost. Trying to escape, you find a trident. Upon touching this trident, millions of voices ring out, "The Princess/Queen has returned." (up to you if familial or romantic story).

2. The Blue Lagoon AU where you and Attuma/Namor are just humans who get shipwrecked and stranded on an island. You fall in love as you build a home there over the years. Possibly takes place in the Victorian era.

3. You work as a mermaid performer for an aquarium, and on your day off you take your tail out to the beach to play in the ocean. You're soon surprised by a group of Wakandans, who, having mistaken you for an actual mermaid, are begging you to help them rescue their kidnapped princess from Talokan. Wait, what? You’re struggling to process any of what was just said. You can hold your breath for a long time by human standards, but not that long.

4. Ponyo AU where either Namor or Attuma have a very small daughter who’s curious and in love with the surface to the point she slips away from the sea and befriends a human child. Namor or Attuma tries to bring his child back to Talokan, but the girl is like 😠 because she likes this human!! The human is her best friend now!! “Daddy go away can’t you see we’re sailing in a boat, eating ham sandwiches, making sand castles and other fun kid stuff!!”

🥀5. You're a deep sea welder. You've noticed a hatch on the seabed through which a light flickers for a while. One day, you check it out. To your surprise, you see the panicked face of your friend who went missing, through the hatch glass. They’ve been kept prisoner in Talokan all this time and you offer to take their place. Beauty and the Beast AU

6. A woman gives birth to a girl who's been cursed to slowly transform into a “sea monster”. She tries desperately to make her child normal, to the detriment of her daughter. As reader grows into an adult and continues to change, her mother fears the day that she will leave her for the ocean, especially when she goes off to college and meets a man who claims to be from the sea. Sort of Hades/Persephone AU.

7. Ever After “a bird may love a fish, but where would they live?” AU

8. Period drama AUs. Bridgerton, Jane Austen, victorian AU, regency AU, gimme that good stuff but with Namor or Attuma.

9. After getting shipwrecked on an island you’ve never heard about, you meet a princess who asks you to help her take back her kingdom. She mistook you for a warrior, and misunderstood everything you said. You have never fought a battle in your life. You just wanna go home. You’re far too tired and hungry for this.

10. Creature from the Black Lagoon AU. During an expedition, reader is noticed by Namor or Attuma, who admires her beauty and falls in love with her from afar over the course of however many months. I just want to fall in love with and be carried away bridal style by a fishman to his underwater home, my dudes.

11. Shape of Water AU where Attuma/Namor is held captive in a facility and over time forms a special bond with reader, eventually falling in love with her. They bridge their language barrier and when reader helps him escape, oh fuck turns out he is a god.

12. When you were a child, you had an imaginary friend around your age who lived in the sea. You used to go on adventures with him. The last time you saw him was when you were teenagers, when you shared in a strange personal ceremony where you joined hands. Now, after all these years, a hooded Attuma/Namor arrives on your doorstep claiming to be your betrothed and tells you that you must come to Talokan with him at once. It’s not safe here. (Could take place in a different time period/timeline. Either way, let’s pretend reader and Namor/Attuma were either born around the same time or age at about the same rate/speed so the age gap isn’t weird and we divert the creepy “adult Namor meets reader when she’s a child” thing. Maybe reader isn’t exactly human. Maybe she’s a mutant too. Idk. Don’t think too hard about it.)

🥀13. A scuba diver was in the middle of exploring a shipwreck when they discover a body. It’s the body of a young woman and it looks oddly intact. Like she just fell asleep. But the ship’s been down here for years. The diver is in the middle of contemplating this when the body’s eyes open. The woman is you, and Attuma/Namor is furious that someone dare disturb his love while you were resting. Why are you in this situation? Who knows. Maybe you were dying from an incurable disease, maybe Namor/Attuma was faced with your mortality after a near death experience. The why and the how is up to you. Sort of Sleeping Beauty AU.

14. You kayak every day, and over time some of the dolphins in the bay have started swimming along with you as you kayak. One day, the dolphins are acting oddly. After much chattering, and bumping into your boat, three of them push you and your kayak out to sea, as if commanded to by an unseen presence. Suddenly you’re surrounded by blue skinned people and they all have weapons pointed at you. A man with wings on his ankles hovers above you. Well, damn. This was not in your summer getaway plans.

15. You are stranded on a gloomy beach after a shipwreck. The only other survivor is your loyal dog after you saved it from the burning ship. The full moon shines on the dark water, where debris of the wreckage are floating. Suddenly, you hear something in the woods. You turn around and see someone walking towards you... (Possibly Little Mermaid AU? Idk. I just love that scene when Eric stays on the burning ship to save his dog, Max.)

16. Pirate AU? You were born with special eyes. The sea is as clear as glass to you. By the time you’re old enough to join a ship’s crew, you’re smart enough not to tell them about everything you’ve seen below the waves.

17. The red string is tied around your finger and lets it lead you to your soulmate, someone who understands you. You’re a navigator and a cartographer, so when your string leads you to an unexplored part of the sea not marked on your maps, you think it must be a mistake. It’s not.

🥀18. You and your parents are labeled eccentric. You’ve all avoided the ocean, yet when they’re killed, you arrange a sea burial for them. As their bodies sink, you watch the rest of your family swim up from the murky depths below to take them home, and some of them pause to wave at you. How is this happening. Is this a vivid nightmare or a haunting reality? Are you in the twilight zone?

19. You're a novice shipwreck treasure hunter. One day you dig up a map that seems very old, all of the continents and islands are correct, but the map ends at places with waterfalls or hidden underwater cave tunnels. You see an X that reads "only way out". Only way out of where? What’s down there?

20. You are riding your boat through a fog. Suddenly, you come upon an island ringed by shipwrecks. On closer inspection, the entire island is an overgrown pile of ships, all from different cultures and eras. As you near the shore, you see a bunch of blue skinned people and a man flying above them. They seem to be burning something. They spot you. Oh no.

21. You’ve just survived a shipwreck and pull yourself onto a small island. From the shade of a palm tree a man steps out and says “Well well well. We meet again. But this time the advantage is mine!” You have no idea who this guy is or what he’s talking about.

22. You’re a young Aztec woman. Your canoe gets caught in a torrent and you black out and wake up alone on an unknown beach, where you see a golden glow in the distance. Describe the first year of your life in Talokan. Could take place centuries in the past before the canon timeline.

🥀23. You’ve just inherited a mysterious Aztec looking, revolving puzzle box from your late grandfather. In the note that came with it, it states, “this puzzle box will reset every hour, each time to a new sequence, but the prize inside will change your life forever. Good luck.” Sort of Hellraiser inspired.

24. You’re an archaeologist studying the Aztec and you’ve just uncovered an artifact with your newborn child’s name and birthdate on it.

25. You love building sand sculptures on the beach, but recently someone has been changing your sculptures, moving them, or making copies. This time, you are going to hide and watch, to see what is happening.

26. After you finished college, you went on what you thought would be a dream cruise vacation. Instead you were the sole survivor of a sunken ship. Despite many difficulties and challenges, you managed to find some comfort and joy on a deserted island. Fish and crabs seemed to wash up on shore daily, providing you with food and you kept finding useful items you could create clothing or other supplies with. On the tenth anniversary of your life on the island, you find the following words written on the sand on the beach: “I’m a friend. I think It is time we finally meet.”

🥀27. Your dad always said that putting your ear to a conch shell sounded like the ocean. While walking along the beach, you come across one such seashell. You decide to relive childhood memories of listening to the sound of ocean waves, but are frightened by what you hear. “Help me!” A distressed voice calls. “Help me! Please!”

28. Iron Giant inspired AU. The “Hey Dean, watch this!” scene except it’s Reader who’s swimming in the water and being like, “Come in, the water’s great!” While failing miserably at hiding the fact it’s freezing. Meanwhile Namor is sitting smugly in the sand, just trying to relax like “Haha no thanks,” until a HUGE wave crashes over him, leaving him totally soaked and dampening his mood (no pun intended) 😂

OR reader is a single mother and waitress and Namor is an artist who comes into the diner and over time falls in love with reader and bonds with the kid, becoming their dad. Possibly modern AU.

#namor x reader #namor imagine #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor fanfiction #namor fic #attuma x reader #fic ideas #some of these I got from Reddit so I can’t take all the credit #others are my own random thoughts #don’t think too hard about it

[miniimapp]

When 4*TOWN Are On Tour

Gen ;; Fluff - Headcanons

Warnings ;; None

Proofread + Edited ;; Lmao

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 17 OF THE 4*TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !! Now that I can write again its just a game of catch up for the days I missed so that's fun lmao

Enjoy !! <3

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Aaron T - High Spirits

T is keeping spirits as light as possible all of the time

Cracking jokes,, smiling widely,, he'll even provoke other more pent up members to get them to release their tension on him

Not healthy,, don't recommend

Silly T,, take care of yourself

He really appreciates when you text him or call him,, don't call him out of the blue the boy's got things to do but drop a text anytime

T adores coming back onto the bus and finding that he's got a message from you

Will giggle and kick his feet as he reads it

Yes,, the others will make fun of him

No,, he doesn't give a flying fuck

Jesse - Cool, Calm and Collected-ish

Just like taking his kids on holiday tbh

Mans has got plenty of check-lists

He's way too prepared to be stressed

There's literally no way he could be

Jesse has checklists for his checklists

Maybe it's a problem actually,, seems like something people might get checked out..

Oh well..

Jesse is talking to you anyway he can except maybe video call

First,, signal is shit

Second,, don't tell anyone but he has an irrational fear that the video will freeze on a really unflattering frame of him and somehow the call will get hacked into and a photo of that unflattering image will get spread all over the internet..

Yknow only the most realistic scenarios from our Jesse

But yeah,, he loves chatting away with you about how his boys are doing and asking about is kids back home

Aaron Z - Sleeping Like a Log

If anyone is wondering where Z is,, he is napping

Mans has the worst case of jet lag even if they've literally travelled nowhere

Idk how he does it but Z always get jet lag on every semi-long journey, let alone a tour so

He will call you in between naps and tour stuff

He prefers that over texting because he misses hearing your voice

He won't video call though because Jesse's indoctrinated him with that stupid fear

Z will fall asleep on call with you

Be prepared lmao

Robaire - Worry Wart

Ro gets incredibly stressed around tour times so contact tends to be minimal

He's never without a coffee on these tours,, honestly might be unhealthy but we move

You make sure to let him initiate any form of contact,, whether it be a call, texting, or whatever,, so you don't stress him out further

Robaire tends to get very in his head about things

Especially when he feels he has something to prove

When Ro does make contact,, make sure to pepper any calls with some affirmation and any texts with the same

He really does appreciated it,, even if he doesn't always verbalise that appreciation

Tae Young - No, you can't bring the local zoo-

Best believe Tae goes to every pet shop,, zoo,, animal cafe and bird sanctuary they go past on their journey

And he's not only seen but befriended every stray animal nearby and became the godparent of its future children

No one knows how Tae does it and they're all a bit too scared to ask

Tae likes to video call

He ignores Jesse and Z

He actually prefers if you initiate it because sometimes he doesn't feel like he's being a bit needy on tour

Tae just wants to see you okay hhhhhh

Sometimes the other will find him scrolling back up through your message history

Tae has a little folder of all his favourite messages you've sent him while on tour in the past and he reads through those too

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Hope you enjoyed !! <3

#4town christmas countdown #4town #4town headcanons #4town jesse #4town robaire #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town tae young #4town x reader

[healingmyinnerfangirl]

A Spot On The Sofa / Ch. 1

( James Potter x Lily Evans)

CW: swearing, bigotry and reference to hate groups

Desc: After the incident in their fifth year where Snape calls Lily a mudblood, James can't help but feel it's his fault. In his efforts to make amends, the pair grow closer than either of them expected. 2k

WIP

ao3: healingmyinnerfangirl

There was something about a good sofa that Lily always loved. As a child when Petunia would lock their shared bedroom door Lily had learned to tolerate, and even prefer, the sofa downstairs. Her parents had insisted she stay in their bed, but Lily never minded. The sofa made her feel secure, held tight, swallowed in. Going to Hogwarts was a delight when she turned eleven, but she’d have been lying if she said she didn’t miss her sofa at home. She was relieved to find out that the Gryffindor common room sofa was just as comfortable as the one at home, if not more so. The burnt orange upholstery had long collected the various smells of the common room; the soft smoky aroma from the fireplace, hints of cinnamon from spilt fire whiskey, the faint artificial orange scent from furniture polish that was used to dust the side tables. The cushions were old and firm but would mold to whoever rested into them, as if to say “stay a while.” The fabric was always warm and soft, kept up well by the house elves who cleaned the common room out of sight. Lily had unofficially claimed this spot as her own in her first year. She’d done her best to try staying in her own bed most nights; though in the event that she’d have a bad dream or be tossing and turning, she would find herself tip-toeing downstairs to the sofa to close her eyes for a few hours before grumbling back upstairs after being woken up by the Quidditch team, clattering out through the door for early morning practice. It’d become a place of safety for her, and any Gryffindor knew better than to steal her spot.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She and Severus had been fighting more than usual lately. They weren’t always like this, she’d thought to herself. Before Hogwarts they had been inseparable, both of them relieved to have found a bird of the same feather in each other. The sorting their first year had been an obvious source of tension, but the two had done their best to keep their Houses’ rivalries in the background. As they grew older and befriended others, however, it was difficult for Lily to ignore that Severus had changed. He had insisted he had no involvement with the anti-Muggle rhetoric that some of his Slytherin classmates had started adopting. Lily was sure he wasn’t. How could he be, she’d try to reassure herself, if he’s still friends with me?

Fifth year had yielded a difference in Severus, though. Lily couldn’t quite pinpoint the source, whether it was the insidiously growing tension against Muggle-borns and Half-bloods outside of school, or if Potter and his band of idiots had been teasing him more than usual. Whatever the case, he had been snapping at her too often for her liking. She refused to allow it of course, and would shut his moods down quickly, but she couldn’t help feeling that there was more to it. She sunk back into the cushion of the common room sofa, trying to rack her brain as to what she did this time to set him off. Something Avery had said maybe, that Severus was cruel enough to laugh at in front of her. That must have been it.

“Oi, Evans! Never see you in this early. Snivelly finally respecting your curfew? Or have the dungeons gotten too cold for you?”

Lily closed her eyes in annoyance and sighed through her nose. Potter. Of course he’d have some fucking remark to make. She’d take Severus’s snide comments any day over this.

“Not in the mood, Potter.”

“Aw, don’t tell me you two have gotten into a little lover’s quarrel. You know, if you’d ditch the sleak git for me, I’d make it worth your while. Wouldn’t pick a single fight--”

“Do you ever take a hint?! Leave it alone, Potter. I said I’m not in the mood.” She cut him off sharply, turning halfway in her seat to serve him a scathing glare.

She could see his shit-eating grin fade a bit as he realized he’d gone too far. His recovery was quick, though, as always.

“Whatever, Evans. Your loss. You know where to find me when your pretty little head inevitably turns.” He winked at her and walked backwards to the stairs of the boy’s dormitories, leaving Lily feeling more irritated than she had been when he came. This was not a novel feeling, she acknowledged. He always knew exactly which button of hers to press.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

James had often been the last to leave Quidditch practice. It wasn’t for lack of efficiency, more for a love of the pitch. The air of the mountains was fresher than anything he had ever inhaled, the smell of dew, cedar trees, and grass embedded into his uniform and hair after each match. There was nothing he loved more.

Well, he thought, maybe one thing.

Lily Evans hated his guts. He didn’t know whether to be hurt or amused by this, so he often chose the latter. He had a particular talent for teasing her, hoping one day she’d realize he was actually quite witty. It never seemed to go that way for some reason, but James was nothing if not persistent.

He never understood why she wasted her time with Snape of all people though. It seemed to James that everyone saw him for what he truly was: a slimy little git. Everyone but Lily, at least. It bothered James out of proportion to what normal jealousy should feel like. He knew the shit Snape and his slimy friends would say behind her back; the way they would degrade her for being Muggleborn, for having the nerve to be a better witch than any of them. They’d even stopped being secretive about it at times. Snape would never have the balls to say it with her in earshot, and it was hard to tell if he really meant them in the first place or if he was putting on a show for his bigoted clique. Lily had to have heard them at some point. If she hasn’t already, she was going to, and God knows how she’d react then.

James found himself furrowing his face in thought on his way back to the common room, turning the corner of the West Wing into the Quad to see two figures nearby, one with his favorite shade of crimson adorning her head.

“You heard what they called that first year the other day, Sev. They called her a mudbl- I can’t even say it. And you just stood there, like there was nothing wrong it with it! You even had the fucking nerve to crack a smile when they said it. Don’t you dare deny it,” she hissed, pointing her finger at him accusingly as he opened his mouth to interrupt. “Marlene told me about the whole thing. I can’t believe you.”

“Lily, she’s lying to you! I told them they shouldn’t have said it, there was nothing I could’ve-”

“Nothing you could’ve done? You don’t have even a shred of decency to correct your friends when they’re being pigs? You’d rather keep your mouth shut to keep the peace between you and those Nazis?”

“They’re not Nazis, Lil-”

“They’re Death Eaters, Sev. You’ve said it yourself, that’s what they want to do out of school. Not a job, no, they want to terrorize Muggles for a living. And if you keep hanging around them you’ll end up following the same path-”

“No!” Severus asserted. “You know me, Lily. You know I would never go that far. And I would never call you a-”

Snape trailed off, realizing Lily had spotted someone else in the courtyard and was looking towards him. James, engulfed by the argument in front of him, had also taken a moment to realize it was him Lily was looking at.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he called dryly to the pair, making his disdain for one of the parties abundantly clear.

Lily rolled her eyes, finished with this conversation, and headed towards the Great Hall, leaving the two boys in her midst.

James and Snape eyed each other with matching glares, in a silent competition to see who would break first. The latter finally let a sneer loose before storming away after his friend in an effort to catch up with her.

James let out a sigh and made his way back into the common room, subconsciously ruffling his hair as he walked. Good going, Prongs, he thought. Keep interrupting them when they argue. That’ll score you some points for sure. Idiot.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I just don’t get it, Remus. I feel like I’m losing him and I don’t even know how to stop it.” Lily sighed, slumping her elbows onto the railing of the bridge leading out past the clock tower. She overlooked the lake, reminded of how beautiful the castle truly was, even on an overcast day like this one.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do, Lily. He’ll choose whatever path he feels suits him, whether you like it or not.” He leaned on the railing beside her, joining her in gazing outward at the scenery before them.

“He’s been my friend since we were kids, though. I can’t just sit back and watch him become one of them.” She sighed, leaning back on the bridge’s beam with her arms outstretched, rocking her body back and forth impatiently.

“Do you think he really thinks I’m beneath him, Remus? Like how all of his friends do?”

Remus turned his head to look at her. A blend of bitterness and worry twitched on her face, trying but failing to mask it.

“Has he said anything like that to you?”

Lily shook her head. “I know his friends think so. They all say it to other Muggleborns. He’s even with them sometimes.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

Lily shook her head in annoyance, remembering her fight with Severus earlier that week. “He always gets so defensive when I ask him. He keeps saying they’re not as bad as I think they are, he’d never think that of me, but I’m just not sure anymore. Half of his little posse have already pledged themselves to You-Know-Who once they graduate. There’s even a rumor McNabb already has that stupid fucking tattoo on his arm.”

Remus chuckled grimly. “I heard that one too actually. I didn’t think McNabb had the physical stamina to get a tattoo, let alone Severus. He may be in trouble after all.”

Lily turned to Remus with a scornful look. “I’m kidding.” He quickly added.

“ Look, you know I’m not Snape’s biggest fan. But I have a hard time believing he’d risk his friendship with you over a few of his mates in Slytherin. He’s probably just doing whatever he can to keep in good standing with them so they leave you alone.”

Lily paused, drinking that thought in. “You think so?”

Remus shrugged. “It’s possible.”

Lily smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Remus. You’re probably right. I’ll talk to him.” Lily let out a big exhale as if she were releasing a pent up tension in her chest. She looked over at Remus again, no longer distracted by her own dilemma.

“You’re paler than normal.”

“Am I?” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

“Yes. You’re sweating too. Are you feeling alright?”

Remus nodded, eager to shift the conversation to a different topic. “I’m fine, you know how I get this time of year. Probably another cold.”

“That’s your third cold this year, Remus. Everytime you recoup from one, it seems like you catch another. You really ought to see Madame Pomfrey about it.”

“Ah, Madame Pomfrey has bigger fish to fry than me. I’ll be fine. Just need to rest,” he said, grabbing his bag to head back towards the castle. “You coming?”

Lily shook her head. “I’ll stay out here for a minute. I need some more air.”

Remus gave her a farewell wave before leaving Lily to her thoughts, hoping to God he was right about Severus. The alternative wasn’t something she was prepared to consider, she thought.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hp fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #jilychallenge #jily supremacy #jily fic #james and lily #james x lily #enemies to friends to lovers #fuck snape #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #romance #otp ship #shipping #fanfic #writers on tumblr #fanfiction writing #fanfiction writer #hp fandom #hp fic #harry potter fic #read on ao3

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (209/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball,  which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made  on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story This story takes place about 1000 years before  66 years after  1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[12 March 238 Before Age. Dorlu Prime.]

Luffa had once been the Legendary Super Saiyan, until the Demon God Demigra offered her a chance to do it all over again. She found herself in a new history, where the alien hordes who captured and tortured her were all dead. With the Tikosi's extinction, and Luffa's foreknowledge of events to come, she had a chance to live her life the way she had always wanted. All of the friends, the love, the triumphs, with none of the loss, the regrets, the tragedies.

Or so it had seemed.

She was still trying to decide whether to accept Demigra's truce. His terms were simple. If she agreed to remain in this new reality, he would leave her alone. But if she refused to accept his triumphant ascension to godhood, then Luffa could confront him for one final battle. She only had to take the magic scroll he had left for her, and she would instantly travel from her world to his. Since that path lay open to her, she decided to take her time and see what this new world had to offer.

At first, it had seemed like a dream come true. She was back on Dorlu Prime, where she had spent her teenage years guarding the planet as a mercenary. Her treacherous father had left the planet in a profound despair. His plans for the future had died with the Tikosi, and only Luffa knew just how shaken this had left him. That suited her well, as it meant she could chart her own course without him.

Keda was alive in this world, still a healthy nine-year-old child, unaffected by the terrible conflicts that only Luffa could now remember. The same was true for Zatte, the captain of the Dorlun militia. In this era, she had been Luffa's best friend, although later they would fall in love and marry. However, in this era, Luffa was still married to her first husband, Kandai.

Luffa's plan was fuzzy in places, but the basic goal was to divide her time between the Dorlu Colony and finding mercenary work in the surrounding space sectors. That way, she could still have Zatte and Keda in her life, without taking them away from their home. From there, Luffa could reach out to other close friends she had made in the old reality. It would be a challenge to make contact with them all and befriend them all over again, but Luffa cared for them too much to simply ignore them.

But that part of the plan had ended before it could truly begin. She had contacted Dr. Topsas on Plutark VII, hoping to strike up a friendship with him while he put her in contact with Wampaaan'riix. Instead, he informed her that Wampaaan'riix had been killed in a Deathmatch tournament.

This had been a huge blow to Luffa, who had never even considered the possibility. In the old reality, Wampaaan'riix had survived the tournament, thanks to Luffa's refusal to kill him. This time, she had skipped the tournament, never suspecting that her Yetitan friend might lose his life to some other opponent.

After hearing the news, she was inconsolable for hours. The worst part was that she couldn't even tell anyone what was bothering her. There was no way to explain it.

In the old reality, she might have commiserated with Zatte through her telepathic abilities, which had become much more sophisticated after Luffa became a Super Saiyan. But in this reality, Luffa was still at the power level she had been at the age of nineteen. Telepathy on that level, with an alien, was impossible.

And eventually, after Luffa had neglected enough mealtimes in her despair, it was Kandai who reached out to comfort her. He didn't know why she was upset. Indeed, she had been distant towards him for days without any apparent reason. But he still knew how to charm her, and how to get her to vent her emotions without hearing the context behind them.

The answer was combat.

Their battleground was on the far side of the planet. Dorlu Prime was mostly a primeval wilderness covered in sparse vegetation and inhospitable wastes. The Dorluns had grand dreams for the planet, but their colony was only a tiny speck of civilization on an otherwise uninhabited world. And so it was easy for Luffa and Kandai to find a suitable place to fight without damaging anything important.

It was a one-sided affair. At her present level, Luffa's powers were no match for Kandai's, but that didn't stop her from hitting him with everything she had. As for Kandai, he held back, allowing Luffa to fight to her fullest without shutting her down too quickly. He still fought back, but only to keep her motivated to try harder.

In the end, Luffa put everything she had left into a final assault, charging all of her power into the fingertips of her left hand, and firing a focused beam of ki at his heart. But he was too fast to hit, and before she could react, he was grasping her by the wrist and spoiling her aim. She tried to headbutt him, only for Kandai to use his free hand to deliver a chop to her neck. Luffa collapsed to the ground in a heap. She was still conscious, but too weary to move.

"Not bad, Luffa," he said as he alighted beside her. "I guess training those blue folks really helped you improve."

"Th-thank you," Luffa said between gasps. When she finally found the strength to roll over onto her back, she saw Kandai had lain down beside her.

"Something's got you all riled up," Kandai said. "I don't know what it is, and I guess you're never gonna tell me, but I could sense it in those punches of yours. Oh, and that red laser beam thing you just used a minute ago. Where'd you learn that one?"

"Long... story..." Luffa said.

"Yeah, well your emotions were all over the place," Kandai said. "It's like you wanted revenge for something, and I don't even know what for. If I didn't know better, I'd think you wanted me dead."

"Maybe..." Luffa said with a bitter chuckle.

"Whatever it is, I'm sorry, okay?" Kandai said.

With a loud grunt, Luffa sat upright, and began grabbing at her black, sleeveless shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"The same thing we always do after we spar," Luffa said as she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. "Unless you're not up for it."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't think you'd be in the mood," Kandai said. "You haven't been... I mean, for the last month or so..."

Luffa started taking off her boots next. "I know. I've had a lot on my mind, that's all. And... and..."

He kissed her before she had to struggle to find the words that she couldn't say. Luffa returned his embrace, and they continued on in this way, lying in the crater they had made in the dusty wastes.

She was conflicted about making love to him this way. She was married to him in this world, but in the old reality, they had become enemies, and she had pledged herself to Zatte. It felt wrong to pursue her feelings towards either one, but after the news about Wampaaan'riix, she couldn't stand the isolation any longer. She needed to be held, and to be reassured, and Kandai could understand her without the need for words.

Later, as she lay beside him, her head cradled between his chest and his arm, she decided to ask the question. "Did you know my father was negotiating with the Tikosi?"

"What?" he asked, somewhat drowsily.

"I found out," she said. "Don't ask me how. He was plotting something with them. That's why he was so grim after he found out they were all dead."

"You're kidding, right?" Kandai asked. "No... no, you're serious, aren't you? Well, no. He never said anything to me about it. What the hell were we doing during all those patrols then?"

"They wanted a Saiyan specimen," Luffa said. "That's what the Tikosi would do. They wanted the Dorluns to study their abilities, and they wanted to study our zenkai."

"Luffa, why are you telling me this now?" Kandai asked.

"Because I want a straight answer," Luffa replied. "And you're a lousy liar after we've... well, you know."

"No! He never said anything about this," Kandai said. "What, you think he was going to hand me over to them?"

"I don't know," Luffa lied. "He might have had someone else in mind. Maybe even me."

"You're his daughter."

"So tell me," Luffa said. "If it had been me, he would have had say something to you, sooner or later. Would you have gone along with it?"

"The Tikosi are dead," Kandai said. "Your dad's long gone."

"Answer the question," Luffa insisted.

He sighed, then said: "Well yeah, I probably would have. I mean, what else could I do? Fight your dad and take on all the Tikosi all by myself? I'd just get us both killed."

As chilling as the answer was, Luffa found the honesty refreshing. "I see your point," was all she could think of to say.

"I mean, what would you do if they had picked me instead?" Kandai asked. "You're telling me you'd rush off and die in a fight you knew you couldn't win?"

Luffa was about to say that she would, without question. Her pride as a Saiyan would have demanded it, and the example set by the tales of the Old Heroes would have inspired her to fight in spite of the odds. She had proven her convictions time and again during he career as the Legendary Super Saiyan.

But then she thought of Demigra's truce, and how she still hadn't decided whether or not she would accept it. The conflict with Demigra seemed pointless now. The Time Patrol no longer existed, and the history they had fought for was already gone. How would the Old Heroes of Saiyan Legend have dealt with that?

"I think, once, I would have died for you without hesitation," Luffa said. "Now... I'm not so sure."

"So it's this business with your dad that's been bothering you this whole time," Kandai said. "And you were worried that I was in cahoots with him."

"Let's just say I've been rethinking my whole life," Luffa said. "And I'm seeing everyone I know with a new perspective."

"Oh yeah? And what do you see in me?" Kandai asked.

"You're a pushover," Luffa said.

"Hmph. Yeah, I suppose you've got me there."

"You said before you prefer to go with the flow, that you prefer to be a follower. The truth is you're just a doormat. You'll play along with whoever offers you the safest or most profitable path."

"I never pretended otherwise," Kandai said.

"You're probably right," Luffa said. "I just assumed you were more principled than that. I saw something noble in you, but that was only what I wanted to see. I put you on a pedestal because you were so much stronger than me. The ideal man."

"You weren't complaining a few minutes ago, when I was--"

"Yeah, yeah, you do that part just fine," Luffa said with a wry smile. "I guess I let that cloud my perception too.

"So we can call it off here," Kandai said. "If that's what you want. No hard feelings. Strictly business between us from here on out."

"I didn't say I wanted that," Luffa said.

"Then what do you want?" Kandai asked. "You've always had this glint in your eye, Luffa. Like you craved something with all your heart, and you could never put it into words. So how do we get it for you? You always talked about starting a family, but... well, I think we already know how to do that."

Luffa sat up and looked around for her clothes. "I... I think we should head back to the settlement," she said.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" she said, more anxiously than she wanted to sound. "I just... remembered I needed to check on something."

*******

Luffa did not spend long in the settlement, and headed directly for the Saiyans' ship. She fetched the medical scanner, and waved it around herself. She had done this before, but only to investigate the lack of certain scars on her body. Now, she understood that Demigra had somehow transported her into her younger body, that was no longer a mystery. But something Kandai had said to her in the wastes had convinced her to perform a more thorough examination.

The results were as she suspected, but before she could truly react, she heard Zatte and Kandai on board. They were looking for her, and so she stepped out to greet them.

"I just got back from meeting with the Elders," Zatte said. "It's not perfect, but I think I have a way to join your crew, Luffa."

Luffa was confused for a moment. She had completely forgotten Zatte's report to her superiors.

"Wow, you really worked her over, huh?" Zatte said to Kandai as she pointed at several scrapes and bruises on Luffa's arms and head. "I could sense you two going at it all the way from here."

"Whoa whoa! Hey...!" Kandai said. "You could tell we were--?! Oh, wait, you meant fighting. Well, yeah. Sometimes a little spar is the best way to get out of a funk."

"Sure, it's just weird to see Luffa be the one who gets all worn out," Zatte said. "I can come back later."

"No, it's fine," Luffa said. "The Dorlun Elders. What did they say?"

"In principle, they like the idea of a Dorlun operative maintaining a presence in space," Zatte began. "The problem is that I have obligations here, to this place. I'm not at liberty to explain that, but I can't just be re-assigned offworld so easily."

"So they want some other Dorlun to go with us instead?" Kandai asked. "That wasn't the idea. It's you or nobody."

"That's what I told them," Zatte said. "And they agree, I'm the best qualified for the position. The Elders just don't like one Dorlun running off by herself with a pair of aliens. But I've read the Holybook, and I think there's a way to flip this around to satisfy them."

"Holybook?" Kandai asked.

"Their religious text," Luffa said.

"Oh."

"Basically, if there was a familial connection between us, that would clear everything up. A legal relationship-- like adoption or marriage-- can be just as valid as blood." Zatte paused and looked at them both before continuing. "All right, so this might be a little too radical for you Saiyans, but hear me out. If I was married into your family, then I would have sufficient justification to go with you, and the Elders would approve of my transfer."

"What?" Luffa asked.

"Married to who?" Kandai asked.

"Well, Luffa," Zatte said. "I mean, scripturally, it could be to either one of you, but you're not my type, Kandai. No offense."

"Are you out of your mind?" Luffa exclaimed. She pointed at Zatte, then at Kansai. "I can't marry you, I'm already married!"

"No, this could work," Kandai said. He began to rub his hand over his chin as he considered it. "Once we make it official, we're free and clear, aren't we?"

"That's right," Zatte said. "The marriage itself is the thing. Once that's accomplished, well, I can play it any way you'd like."

"Well, this could work, I guess," Kandai said. "Luffa and I had been talking, and maybe things aren't working out between us as well as we thought."

"Oh?" Zatte said. "I don't want to cause any trouble between you..."

"It's fine," Kandai said. "I'm not that thick-headed. If things play out that way, then so be it. Or Luffa can switch back and forth for a while until she makes up her mind. Right, Luffa?"

"I... I need to get some air," Luffa said.

"What's wrong?" Zatte asked. "Look, if this is a problem for you, I apologize. I just thought--"

Luffa ran past them and kept going until she had made it through the entrance hatch. She did not stop until she reached her personal quarters in the settlement.

It was all wrong. So very wrong. Wampaaan'riix was dead, and Dr. Topsas didn't even know him or Luffa well enough to care. Kandai barely seemed to value their marriage at all, and Zatte was willing to exploit that to get a berth on their ship.

Perhaps it would have been simpler to part ways with Kandai and make a clean break, but even that option was muddied by the results of her medical scan. She was pregnant. It was so early into the term that she hadn't noticed it before, but the scanners could tell. He was only a cluster of cells in her uterus, but her only son, Katem, was already beginning to enter this reality.

She could still cut ties with Kandai anyway. His behavior in the old history had already proven that he cared little for their son. He might have been grateful to be excused from the responsibility of fatherhood, but it still rankled her to consider it.

Then there was Zatte. Luffa felt like their relationship in this reality had gotten off to a wrong start. There was something cynical about Zatte's approach, something she couldn't put her finger on. Then it hit her: The Makyans.

In the old history, the Makyans had captured Zatte after the Tikosi massacre. Luffa never learned exactly when that was supposed to have happened, or why the Makyans had been on Dorlu Prime in the first place. Luffa had rescued Zatte from their power, and that had changed the entire dynamic of their romance. Luffa had no intention of letting Zatte fall into their evil clutches again, but that meant her relationship with Zatte would never be quite the same as what Luffa had once known.

And that only raised further questions. Was it right to keep Zatte off Dorlu Prime to protect her from a possible Makyan raid? Would the Makyans even go to Dorlu Prime without the Tikosi attack to precede it? How could Luffa warn the colonists of a threat she wasn't even sure about? And whatever she decided, what would be the effects of those choices?

Her son, Katem, had died in the old reality, betrayed by everyone who claimed to be on his side. She imagined him as a grown man, still calling himself "Xibuyas"-- the name King Rehval had given him. She imagined him dying, abandoned on some nameless battlefield, wondering why his mother had been too weak to spare him from such a fate. Now, she had a second chance to get things right for him, but was it right? Was it worth Wampaaan'riix's life? And even if it was right, how could Luffa be sure that her son wouldn't end up suffering the same fate, or worse?

She couldn't stand it any longer. Every action, every inaction, every decision she made in this new world was fraught with consequences. It filled her with a dread she couldn't describe, and in her haste to be rid of it, she flung open the cabinet in the corner, and reached out for the glowing scroll that lay inside.

Demigra threatened to kill her if she used it, but that no longer mattered. If he had the power he claimed, then she would die in battle and have done with it. And if not...

She had no idea what a victory over Demigra could even be. If he had truly destroyed all of history, then killing him would mean there would be nothing left, except for her. What then?

The thought of drifting alone in the emptiness was enough to stay her hand. Was that her fate? To be the last survivor of a doomed universe?

Her hands began to tremble. She set her teeth and balled her fists, drawing blood from her palms as she tried to force them to be steady. Then, with a defiant snarl, she reached out and took the scroll, moving as fast as she possibly could, faster than her mind could second-guess herself.

The scroll glowed more intensely as she drew it towards her chest . And just as she wondered what was supposed to happen, the world around her went white.

*******

[??????????????????]

Luffa remembered this place, or at least another one just like it. It was a featureless expanse. The ground was smooth and snow white, while the skies roiled with turbulent aurorae. The scroll was still in her left hand.

"I'm back?" she asked. "This is where I was before I ended up on Dorlu Prime. Isn't it?"

"Yes. It's good to see you, Luffa."

The sound of another voice startled Luffa so much that she nearly jumped out of her boots. She spun around, and found a familiar face, one she had never expected to see.

"Dotz?!" Luffa gasped.

She was a fortune-teller Luffa had befriended at the beginning of the war with the Jindan Cult. Much of her appearance was the same as the last time Luffa had seen her. Dotz was tall, dressed in a long purple gown with hood around her face. A mauve shawl was draped across her shoulders, and her thin bony hands were clasped together in a hopeful gesture. The only differences lay in some of the arcane ornaments she wore, and her age. The Dotz Luffa had known was middle-aged. Now, she looked to be much older. Her once-subtle wrinkles now cut deeper lines in her face, and the greying hair under her hood now shone stark white.

"Oh, goodness. You look just like I remembered," Dotz said with a smile.

Luffa stepped toward her and placed her free hand on Dotz's shoulder. "Where are we, Dotz? Did you bring us here? What happened to you?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "It's funny," she said. "I've been wanting to find you for so long, and now that you're here I can't think of what to say. I, uh, well... I didn't bring us here. Let me start with that. This is just where you happened to be when I finally found you."

"You've been looking for me?" Luffa asked.

Dotz nodded solemnly. "Yes," she said. "Ever since you vanished that day on Planet Nagaoka. Everyone believed you had died. I mean... well, the planet exploded and everyone knew you were there when it happened. It made sense that you had perished there. It made sense to everyone, but not to me."

"I survived," Luffa said. "A magic dragon rescued me and took me into the distant future."

"Yes, yes," Dotz said. "I knew it had to be something like that. Shenron."

"You know about Shenron?" Luffa asked. "Then you know the rest? The Dragon Balls? The Time Patrol?"

"No," Dotz said, "but I've seen bits and pieces in my visions. What I meant was that it had to have something to do with you being sent forward in time. That was why I could never get a proper reading whenever I tried to tell your fortune. My psychic abilities improved after we first met, do you remember?"

Luffa nodded. "We couldn't have fought the war without you, Dotz," she said. "Well, we might have, but it would have been a lot bloodier without your ability to predict which planets the Jindan Cultists would attack. And you worked so hard to improve your abilities even further. I... never really got the chance to tell you how much I respected you for that."

She became overcome with emotion, and before she knew it, she dropped the scroll and embraced Dotz with both arms.

"Oh, well, I wasn't expecting this..." Dotz said.

"I've missed you," Luffa said. "You and all the others... I..."

"There now... it's okay," Dotz said as she patted Luffa on the back. "I... forgot how young you were when you disappeared. To tell the truth, I've been trying to find you for so long, it started to feel like an abstraction. Now that you're here, I... well. It's very good to see you."

"How did you find me?" Luffa asked. "I don't even know where this place is."

"After the war, I continued to develop my abilities," Dotz explained. "It always bothered me that I couldn't tell your fortune, even a little. That's why I didn't believe you died on Nagaoka. That should have been easy to foresee, but I had no idea until it happened. Well, over time, I got better at telling fortunes. I learned some new tricks, and improved on some old ones. I found out you were still alive in the far future, but there was still something obstructing my vision. It took me a while to get it right, but I finally managed to get past that obstacle. And uh... here I am."

"You transported yourself through time?" Luffa asked. "You never had that kind of ability before?"

"Well, no, and I don't have it now," Dotz said. "I'm not really here, Luffa. I can talk to you and touch you, but I think that's just because this vision I'm having is so focused, so clear. There's nothing else here in this time and place. So there's nothing to distract me from what I came to find, which is you."

"Then... then there's nothing you can do," Luffa said.

Slowly, she released Dotz from the embrace and stepped back. "When I saw you, I thought you might have had something to do with the scroll, or this place. Or maybe you could take me back with you."

Dotz shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not really clear on what's going on. I saw visions of a man, screaming something about making a 'new history.' Is that why there's nothing here? But how did you survive?"

"It's a long story," Luffa said. "A goddess of time needed my help to stop an evil wizard, and I failed. He destroyed... everything." She waved at the emptiness around them, as if Dotz had not already seen it for herself. "He said he made a timeline just for me to live in if I left him alone... but... it's no good, Dotz. I'd just make a mess of that world too."

Luffa pointed at the scroll she had dropped. "He told me that if I changed my mind, I could use that scroll to take me to him for a final battle. But instead it just took me to this place. I don't know why. I don't understand any of it."

"What about the other one?" Dotz asked. "I sensed another presence in this time."

"Who?" Luffa asked. "As far as I know, it's just Demigra and myself at the end of existence. Who else could there be? Wait... you don't mean..."

"That's right. She's referring to me."

The new voice was not one Luffa had heard before. She and Dotz looked around, but found no sign of the speaker.

"Who's there?" Luffa asked, unsure whether she actually wanted answer. She nearly suggested that Dotz should stay close to her, but thought better of it. Even if Dotz were truly here, what could Luffa possibly do to protect her?

At last, she noticed the scroll beginning to glow a brighter shade of purple, and it unfurled all on its own. Luffa watched as something began to emerge from the parchment, like an animal rising up from a murky swamp. The form was indistinct, more like a glowing fog than a person. Then, as it cleared the parchment, it took shape, and Luffa could recognize the vague outline.

"It can't be," Luffa said. "I mean, you're the only one left, but how can you be here?"

Despite Luffa's confusion, there was no mistaking the Divine Tokitoki Bird. He floated there with outstretched wings, and stared intently at Luffa.

"Well then, Luffa," the voice said. "Are you finally ready to fight?"

NEXT: One With Everything.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #luffa #dotz #kandai #zatte #dorlu prime #i gotta crosspost some chapters i already had up on ao3 #then we'll see if we can get the brand new stuff queued up #november's coming and i want this thing caught up nice and neat before i write more

[alteredsilicone]

The Dark Urge : Act I

A long ramble about my Dark Urge playthrough, split up between acts since this game gets meaty.

This is my third playthrough so more or less I knew what I was getting into (had some durge story bits spoiled too).

When I set out to play durge I also wanted to do an "evil" playthrough, so I set some goals: embrace the "big" durge decisions, be evil when possible without going full murder-hobo. Ally with Gortash, dominate the Brain. Make SH a Dark Justiciar, ascend Astarion, romance Minthara, push Gale towards Godhood and help Lae'zel stay loyal to Vlaakith. The results were... varied.

Recruiting Minthara meant the tieflings had to die, so I indulged the durge by watching Arabella die. Surprisingly this way the game guilt trips you less about doing bad things. (The guilt tripping aspect I will bring up at the very end, after my Act III retrospective)

I quickly learned why durge x Astarion is a popular ship - he really jumps on you from the very beginning, a total 180 to how he treats Tav. Anyways, he wasn't my romance goal so I let him be. For a while.

Alfira is one of my favorites, but she had to go. Sorry. I know there is an alternative by making a different NPC appear but I wanted an authentic(tm) durge experience. Besides, Alfira would die in the grove massacre anyways, two birds with one stone and all.

Dream Guardian interlude - I made her look like my first version of Viri, so it's a Viriception.

Since I'm collecting all the "evil" choices, I also decided to indulge the tadpoles. Partly for achievements, partly to see how it works. Truth be told I didn't use the tadpole skills too much, so if I replay durge (I might do for certain different story outcomes), I will ignore the tadpoles altogether.

Sceleritas Fel was an excellent addition, obviously I humored and indulged him since I wanted to be papa's most specialest murderer.

As I was allying with the goblins I explored some stuff I didn't previously - got shackled up by Gut. Escaping her was quite easy, just had to avoid her afterwards. Then I rushed to Minthara.

I love Minthara's character a lot - she stayed in my party throughout the whole game. Needless to say, but I killed Karlach for Wyll (and stupidly didn't get his armor because I forgot to put him in my party, oh well), Wyll left me when I attacked the Grove (I assume he died offscreen or I killed him without noticing) and I never even met Halsin so he also just died offscreen.

I could also rant about the whole "evil playthrough cuts you from 20% of the content" aspect, but that is a tired rant. I don't mind the grove massacre being the price you pay for Minthara joining your party (she IS an evil character, she straight up agrees with all evil actions together with Astarion and is totally on board with dominating the Absolute and becoming rulers yourself), I just wish there was some alternative with playing on the more evil side.

Maybe befriend goblins? More drow? Anything, really? Then again, BG3 is already a massive game... Oh well, you can't have everything.

Anyways, now that I have done the first big quest, I went to the Underdark to try out one specific thing:

What happens if you sacrifice Gale to the fish people before Elminster stabilizes the orb?

He aggros, you kill him and then after two in-game days this happens:

Needless to say, I reloaded a save and just humored the fish people without killing Gale. Besides, for a corruption arc he needs to live. This is also why I only indulged the "big" durge reactions...

My personal philosophy is that being a murder-hobo is a boring way to be evil (death is not the worst thing that can happen y'know), I much rather would corrupt characters.

However, another part of me got curious about one thing: if you bite off Gale's hand when you find him in the portal, can you present it at the murder tribunal in Act 3?

Anyways.

Remember I said Astarion really gets the hots for durge? So, Minthara leaves for Moonrise so she isn't in my party at the moment this happens... durge decided to have some "fun".

This sequence was very corny, but I know it's all part of Astarion's play-pretend so I just let it play out. Spoiler alert - I will friendzone him later (for his own good).

I decided to feed durge the Noblestalk to get some memories/lore. I hoped for more but probably getting everything back in Act I would be anti-climatic, so this was a nice tidbit all the same. Also the environment bugged out, I should be in a dark dank cave, not outside.

Gale also decided he likes me. I promptly friendzoned him. Trust me, Galey, you do not want a romantic adventure with this tiefling (also he is soulbound to Nila, my other Tav, can't have him cheating on his wife...).

Anyways, Gale is a funny case because Larian keeps mucking up his romance flags, I couldn't replay his romance scene with my actual Galemancer Tav, but the romance does trigger later in Act I when you farm some approval (so either in the Underdark or Creche, depending which path you go on). But it also bugs out (I had to long rest twice with my Tav as the first time it triggered tiefling party dialogue before promptly cutting out, probably a bug because it was an old save where the romance SHOULD have triggered during the party).

Anyways, moving on. I am jumping over some zones/quests because nothing particularly interesting happened (I helped the Myconids but I do that always so that's that, though I let Glut die while fighting the Duergar, not on purpose he just got felted, sorry big guy).

Siding with this guy has exactly zero payoff (Act II spoiler - Balthazar turns him into a zombie and that's that), which is another evil run gripe. He is like Minthara where you can convince him to go against the Absolute, but instead it just goes nowhere apparently.

I just sided with him and suffered through killing a bunch of gnomes and Duergar. Well, at least I got some new scenes.

Astarion flirting interlude:

I put this here because the durge evil face is just so funny. These two would make a disaster pair, but, alas, we in this house are women-loving-women.

So, remember me setting out to push Lae'zel towards loyalty to Vlaakith?

I went as far as to stab the Dream Guardian...

Obviously I should have known better, because the Guardian has plot-armor for obvious reasons. This game kinda sorta railroads you to go against Vlaakith/side with the Guardian. Otherwise the game would just end for obvious reasons... So I decided that I might just shelve Lae'zel along the way.

Maybe I should have made some other decisions in later acts (like killing Voss), but I had my companion-squad already with me, so I decided to let it go.

And that concludes a "brief" overview of durge Act I:

#bg3 tag

[senanatheskenana]

Good morning, I wanted to try the survey event if it's still open. If not, feel free to ignore this ask. And before we get to the question, I apologize for the grammar mistakes English isn't my native language.

1. My work ethic is more or less chaotic. I'm a huge procrastinator who can't follow a plan. I tend to do everything at the last minute under the stress and the pressure. Even if I'm interested in the work, I'll zone out pretty fast.

2. Overthinking is my second name /hj. Well, to be honest I'm a very anxious person, I tend to overanalyzing every single thing. How the baker did look at me, my outfit, my haircut... What a pain. :(

3. I use to be a very extraverted kid, but as I'm growing up I'm getting more and more introverted. I like staying alone or with the few people I can trust. Honestly, I don't see why you should waste your energy by befriending a lot of people when you can use your energy to take care of your loved ones.

4. The answer is very cliché, but it would be Japan. I would love to visit this country one day, climbing Mt Fuji, eating traditional food and discovering their culture.

5. I'm finishing High School and I don't really know what I want to study. Maybe biology or history.

6. I love sweet food with all my heart, give me chocolate and you're making me the happiest man alive.

7. I live with my cat and my two dogs and I wouldn't replace them with anything in the world. But if I could adopt another animal, it would probably be a pigeon or a bird of some kind.

8. I'm a trans man and I consider myself as aroace. So yes, this is more on a " if I could to date I would... " kind of thing or platonic. And I don't really care about the gender of my match.

9. That's a hard question. Probably the hardest on the list /hj. I don't really have one favourite song, more like a whole playlist, but if I should give you one I would say... Fine by Lemon Demon.

10. Family well... All depends on your relationship with them and how they treated you in the past. Sometimes it's important to distance yourself from them, to let go for becoming the best version of yourself. But it's also great when they got your back. So to get on a middle ground, I would say that family is important but you shouldn't let them control your life or make you feel guilty for anything. Talking about kids, I don't mind babysitting or keeping kids at home to help a friend but I don't want to be a father. I don't want kids, I would be a terrible father and I don't want them to grow up in this chaotic world. If the world became a better place, with less wars and dangers for them... Then I might reconsider my choice.

And I ended up writing way to much, I'm terribly sorry T_T. Thanks for reading this, take your time and don't forget to care of you. Have a nice day!

(ps : I find your work very cool)

im glad you like my writing, i really like writing it :)

Also don't worry about writing too much, i think that as long as it's good, you cant write too much xx

I would put you with Kazuha. He's kind and friendly and most of all very calming to be around. Kazuha likes to wander around, so he'd be thrilled to travel with you. While Kazuha can be pretty quiet, he is quite good at calming and comforting people. Kazuha understands the temptation of procrastination so he'd try his best to keep you on track, he may even do it with you. He probably isn't concerned with having children, considering he likes to be transitory and travel but he probably does like having animals around. I can totally see him with a bird too because they can easily follow the Crux

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin x reader