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morgan-is-here · 3 years

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Yes I am still thinking about A Mechsummer Night’s Dream. There are notes of a plot but we’re getting there.

Ngl I’ve mainly just been doing these Titania outfits.

I wasn’t expecting to like the steampunk one so much but wow. I love the rainbow wings though.

Which one is your favourite?

[ID:6 digital drawings of Raphaella La Cognizi in the same pose, standing arms by her side and loking over a shoulder. She also has the same loose hairstyle, but is wearing different outfits with different wings. All are drawn on the same aged paper background and all are coloured in a slightly messy watercolour style.

First image: A single version in the centre. She wears a green 1860s ballgown with leaf patterns running up and down. The skirt is large, floor length and circular. The bodice has a low wode neckline and short ruffled sleeves. She has large bat like wings similar to those she's usually photographed with, but more animal like. To the left is hand written "1860s"

Seond image: Two versions. The left wears a white edwardian dress. A high, flat nekline, midlength, slightly puffed sleeves and slightly pulled in waist. The bodice has flower details, the same detaling is repeated around the hems of the skirt. She has wings made from strips of differnt coloured fabrics all draped from a single wooden frame. To her write is hand written "Edwardian" The right wears a white dress with abstract flowers wrapping around the skirt and boddice. The top is sleveless with large straps that run accros the v neckline. The boddice ends in a point. The skirt is circular but not as large as in image 1 and appears to have lots of thin layers. She has black and purple butterfly wings, the purple being bluer on the top half and pinker on the bottom half. She also wears flowers thoughout her hair. To her left is hand written "1937 Titania"

Third image:Two versions. The left wears a very light blue dress sleeveless. It's very loose but thin fabric that clings to the body. The dress bunches in the middle and the lower seciton of the dress has a lot of creases and folds. The shape of her legs can be made out from how the fabric lays. Over each shouder and thin strip of fabric drapes. On her upper arm she wears a gold band. She has fairy wings, like butterly wings but much more segmented and with jagged edges. The colours transition from pink to purple to blue to green from top to bottom. They are rounder at the bottom and more jagged at the top. The right wears a simple very light blue straight dress that becomes sheer near the bottom, her shins and feet can be seen slightly through the fabric. Over top is an opaque layer of the same colour. It cuts off at the bust in the centre but either side fabric drapes down to about knee lenght. A similar drape can be seen going down her back to her shin. The opaque sections have a red leaf like pattern around the edge. The dress is sleeveless. She has dragonfly wings of many colours blended together. The main colours appear to be blues, greens, purples and reds. In the centre between the two is handwritten "Athenian"

Fourth image: A single version in the centre. She wears a red corset with golden leaf detailing. Under is a frilly blouse with wide low neckline that joins to short, off shoulder sleeves. Her skirt is a dark burgandy. The centre is slightly ruffled and reaches to her knees, with a pleated ruffle at the end. On the sides of the skirt is 3 overlapping layers of fabric, eventually reaching floor length. Each layer has a pleated ruffle and drapes slightly. She wears fishnets under black boots with a brown lace up section. Only one of the boots is fully visable, the other hidden under skirt. On her wrists she wears red fabric wrist cuffs with lace edges. She wears a similar choker with an opal in the centre. She also wears a necklace lower down with a smiliar opal. Her wings are clearly mechanical. Ther are bronze pistons, pullies and gears along the rigde. There are 2 layers of matal feathers, the frist silver and the larger layer underneith in gold. The rest of the wings are made up buy fabric in a bat wing shape. There are pannels alternating light and dark between bronze rods. To the left is written "Classic Steampunk" /End ID]

#the mechanisms #raphaella la cognizi #a mechsummer night's dream #i'll make a tag why not #raphaella #if it's gonna be a thing i'll make it a thing #described #oh god is it described #that's about the length of a personal statment (4000 characters)#probably the mot writing i've done in a WHILE #i really like the steamppunk one #but the athernian wings are nice #my art #ellie actually posting

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 5

A/N: it's formal ball time :) where nothing will go wrong :) (also this morning i saw a tweet from scott smajor casually mentioning he looked at the empires smp tag on tumblr AND mentioning something about liking the "art and stories." so i've been dealing with the mortifying possibility of being known all morning, hope y'all are having a good day/night/whenever aksfdgkl)

Warnings: kissing, explosions, betrayal, violence, swordfights, mild disassociation

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The night of the House Blossom Ball had arrived. Jimmy had to admit, getting Lizzie’s help with an outfit was a good idea. He wore a black suit with intricate, swirling bronze details that shimmered when the light hit them. He had a dark green bowtie as a nod to his empire, and he had indeed ditched the cod head. Instead, he wore a bronze colored masquerade mask that looked like two cod fish curling around his eyes, their fins spreading out and covering his forehead. It felt weird to have his hair exposed, but Lizzie helped him make sure it was presentable. Speaking of Lizzie, she was wearing a dress with the typical navy blue color of the Ocean Empire, but it had an ombre shift into the magenta of Mezalea at the end of the skirt. Joel wore his typical Mezalean garb, but with a navy blue sash instead of a green one. They walked into the ballroom as quite the dazzling trio- and then Jimmy’s heart just about stopped at the sight of Scott.

He was chatting with Pixl and one of the new rulers, a man with colorful wings like a parrot’s. But Jimmy was too busy staring at Scott to really pay attention to Pix and the other ruler, because Scott was wearing a ballgown. The main body of it was long sleeved and form fitting, made of white lace with shimmers of gold worked in, and was backless to allow room for his wings. Then there was a light blue overskirt to go with it, making the dress look like a full ballgown. Gold jewelry adorned him as well- on his wrists, around his neck, and hanging from his ears.

“Close your mouth, Jimmy,” Joel murmured with a teasing lilt. Jimmy snapped his mouth shut, looking down at the ground and extremely relieved that his masquerade mask covered the blush on his cheeks.

“How about we go and mingle with the other guests, I think Jimmy needs a minute to compose himself,” Lizzie teased. Jimmy nodded, too flustered to even protest. The three of them walked over to Katherine, who was chatting with Gem, Pearl, and a gnome girl in a dress that reminded Jimmy of a mushroom, with its red poofy top and white floor length skirt. The girl jumped a bit at the sight of Jimmy and Lizzie, but quickly composed herself.

“Hello! I am Shrub of the Undergrove. You may call me Shelby if you like though,” she said, seeming a little skittish as she spoke. Lizzie smiled gently, giving a curtsy. Joel and Jimmy quickly followed her lead, bowing at Shelby.

“Ocean’s blessings. I am Queen Lizzie, of the Ocean Empire. This is my husband, King Joel of Mezalea. And this is my dear friend, the Codfather of the Cod Empire,” Lizzie said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

“You can call me Jimmy though, if you want,” he added with a smile. Shelby jumped a bit when he spoke, but nodded and gave a hasty curtsy. Joel looked at her with gentle concern.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. Shelby nodded, a bit too hastily.

“Yes! Just not uh. Not super used to this many people,” she said with a nervous laugh, eyeing Lizzie and Jimmy warily. Joel frowned a bit at the way she was looking at them, but didn’t say anything.

“Jimmy, you aren’t making an enemy of our new friend already, are you?” Fwhip’s voice asked from somewhere behind them. Jimmy whirled around to glare at Fwhip, and of course Sausage was at his side.

“I’m just saying hello, Fwhip. Surely that’s allowed,” Jimmy huffed.

“Sure, that’s how it always starts though- next thing you know he’s stealing your things,” Sausage chimed in. Shelby looked rather alarmed, and Jimmy let out a frustrated sigh.

“For the millionth time, you had said that I could-”

“Oh listen, the music’s starting! Let’s dance!” Katherine interrupted him, and the whole ballroom seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief as people found their dance partners. Jimmy fully intended to step to the side and watch as the others danced, but then he met the mischievous glint in Lizzie’s eyes.

“Joel, is it alright if I go dance with Scott? I simply must compliment his dress,” Lizzie said airily. Joel smiled, just as wickedly as the glint in his wife’s eyes.

“As long as you don’t mind if I dance with the Codfather for a bit,” Joel replied.

“Of course!” Lizzie chirped, before heading off towards Scott. Jimmy squinted at Joel suspiciously as he led him to the dance floor. It wasn’t the first time the two of them had danced together, Joel had insisted that Jimmy practice with him before his wedding day. But it had frankly been a while, and he didn’t like the look he and Lizzie had exchanged before she went to dance with Scott.

“What are you up to?” Jimmy asked as he rested his hand on the small of Joel’s back, and Joel rested his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Their other hands were clasped together, and the two of them began gently swaying.

“Oh, nothing,” Joel replied, and that was all Jimmy could get out of him as they danced. They slowly made their way across the ballroom floor, and soon they were close to where Lizzie and Scott were dancing. And gosh were they a sight, all swirling skirts and elegance. Jimmy could tell Joel was just as distracted by Lizzie as Jimmy was by Scott. Then Lizzie noticed them staring, and she and Scott twirled closer.

“Jimmy! Let’s trade partners, I’d like to dance with my husband now!” Lizzie chimed, and before Jimmy could process what exactly that meant, he was spun into Scott’s arms. They were almost as close as they had been the day they fought- and there were those butterflies again. He didn’t know what to do with his hands- there was the issue of Scott’s wings and the fact that his dress exposed a lot of the skin on his back. But there wouldn’t be a point to worrying about that, Scott would surely push him away- but then Scott chuckled and took Jimmy’s hands in his, guiding them to where they should be.

“Here,” he said softly, placing one of Jimmy’s hands on his shoulder while his fingers laced with the other, then moved his free hand to rest on Jimmy’s back and pull him impossibly closer. Jimmy swallowed nervously, glancing over at Lizzie and Joel (who nodded encouragingly) before looking back to Scott.

“You look gorgeous,” Jimmy blurted as the two of them began to sway. Jimmy internally cursed himself for saying the first thing that popped into his head- but then Scott’s face flushed and it suddenly all felt worth it.

“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself,” he teased. Jimmy laughed.

“Lizzie helped,” he admitted. Scott laughed as well, the sound all sunshine and glittering gold.

“Should’ve known,” he replied, seeming distracted for a moment. Jimmy wanted to ask what was wrong, but Scott plastered on a smile and gently spun the two of them. Jimmy couldn’t help but smile along, heart soaring.

They continued dancing until the song ended, and then Scott was just… gone. He had twirled Jimmy and when he had finally managed to stop spinning and catch his balance, laughing and about to make a teasing remark about Scott making him dizzy- he realized he had vanished into the crowd. It felt like Scott had taken a bit of Jimmy’s heart with him. Jimmy looked around for him, and met Katherine’s concerned gaze instead. She gave a comforting smile as she walked over to Jimmy.

“I saw Scott go upstairs, I think he just needed some fresh air after dancing. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some company,” she said with a wink, nudging Jimmy towards the stairs. He chuckled, thanking Katherine before heading up the stairs. She was right, there was no need to be worried! Jimmy just kinda wished Scott would have said something.

Jimmy’s breath was once again taken away when he saw Scott standing on the balcony. If Jimmy thought he was beautiful in the sunlight, he was even more stunning in the moonlight. The white of his wings practically glowed, and while the gold didn’t shimmer quite as bright as it did in the sun, it still sent Jimmy’s heart fluttering all the same. The only thing that ruined the image was how… distressed Scott looked. His hands were fiddling with the gold bracelets he wore, and his mouth was fixed in a frown. Maybe he needed some space, clearly something about the dance upset him- he probably hadn’t really wanted to dance with Jimmy, and just played along cause everyone was watching. Jimmy should definitely apologize before giving him some space.

“Scott? I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just wanted to apologize,” Jimmy said, trying not to let his heartbreak show. Scott jumped in surprise, turning to look at Jimmy.

“Apologize? For what?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“The dance. Joel and Lizzie schemed against my will, I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Jimmy explained, guilt welling up in his stomach. To his surprise, Scott gave a soft laugh.

“You don’t need to apologize for that. I… I liked dancing with you,” he confessed. Jimmy’s heart was sent fluttering once more, and he stepped closer to Scott with a grin.

“Oh! Good, I was just worried because you left and you looked upset when I came up here,” Jimmy said, deflating only a little bit when Scott only smiled and nodded in response before gazing out over the lands of the Overgrown. There was awkward silence for a moment or two, until Scott suddenly moved closer to Jimmy, almost as close as they had been when they were dancing. Butterflies sparked in Jimmy’s stomach at the little distance between them.

“I need to tell you something,” Scott blurted. He looked nervous, almost like he had been when Jimmy first had come up to the balcony.

“Of course, what is it?” Jimmy asked soothingly. Scott looked him in the eyes, mouth opening and closing uselessly- until he broke eye contact for a brief moment before locking eyes with him again, something desperate in his gaze. Then suddenly Scott’s hands were gently cradling his face and there were lips on his. Scott’s lips. Scott was kissing him. Jimmy gasped in surprise against his mouth before quickly sinking into the kiss and running his hands through Scott’s stupid perfect hair. Scott’s hands drifted down from his face to his waist, pulling him in closer as his wings wrapped around them both, shielding them from the outside world so it was only Scott and Jimmy. Then Scott tilted his head and the kiss went from pleasantly warm to blazing, sending sparks racing up Jimmy’s spine. It left him dizzyingly breathless, like Scott had spun him a thousand times on the dance floor, and Jimmy never wanted it to end-

And then a thundering BOOM rattled the castle, breaking them apart. Scott clung to Jimmy, arms tightening around his waist as his breath hitched in fear, and Jimmy held him back just as tightly. There was something unreadable in Scott’s expression alongside the fear, but Jimmy didn’t have time to decipher it before another BOOM shook the castle. Jimmy was about to ask what was going on, but the sound of someone landing on the roof behind him and the voice that went with it stopped him cold.

“Well what do we have here?” Fwhip crooned, and Scott practically snarled as he shifted his hold on Jimmy so that one arm was curled protectively around his waist, his wing shielding him as well, as he drew a sword from somewhere within his skirts and pointed it at Fwhip. Dimly, Jimmy remembered that there weren’t supposed to be weapons at the ball, Katherine had made a rule.

“Leave before I make you,” Scott growled, the sound of his voice sending liquid fire through Jimmy’s veins. Fwhip gave an incredulous scoff, shaking his head.

“Playing the part a little too well, are we?” he sneered, and just like that the fire in his veins went cold, and he realized what that strange look on Scott’s face had been before. Guilt. Scott’s grip on him suddenly felt suffocating, more like he was holding Jimmy hostage rather than protecting him.

“Let go of me,” Jimmy demanded, voice hollow. Scott’s grip only tightened on him, and Jimmy’s heart rate spiked in fear.

“Don’t listen to Fwhip, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Scott said shakily. Fwhip let out a cruel laugh.

“Oh come on Scott, you’re the one who helped make this possible,” he jeered, and the castle shook with another explosion. Jimmy’s stomach dropped. Scott was in league with Fwhip. Scott had plotted against him, and lulled Jimmy into a false sense of security with dazzling smiles and soft lips.

“Jimmy-” Scott started, but was cut off by the sound of people bounding up the stairs and shouting. Jimmy’s head whipped over to see Katherine, Lizzie, and Joel coming up to the balcony.

“Fwhip! How could you do this!” Katherine demanded, tears streaming down her face. Fwhip merely laughed.

“I told you the ball would be a blast, Katherine,” he sneered. Anger boiled in Jimmy’s stomach at Fwhip’s tone towards Katherine, and he squirmed against Scott’s hold.

“Jimmy,” Scott warned, voice low. Joel mistook the tone of Scott’s voice, and leveled his sword at him- somehow Jimmy missed that he was holding it, he must have grabbed it from the chests at the front of the castle.

“Release the Codfather. Now. I won’t let you destroy this castle and take an ally hostage,” Joel growled.

“Joel, stay out of this. You don’t understand what’s happening,” Scott said, voice calm and even. Joel let out a harsh laugh, tightening his grip on his sword.

“I understand plenty,” he snarled, leaping at Scott. Scott was forced to toss Jimmy to the side to block the incoming strike, and Jimmy watched them fight with some sort of dazed confusion as he fell to the ground. Everything felt cold and hollow, and Jimmy didn’t really feel connected to his body as Lizzie scrambled to his side, helping him up and murmuring words of comfort.

“C’mon Jimmy, we’ve gotta get out of here,” she said, voice soft but no less urgent as she gently squeezed Jimmy’s hand. He met Scott’s eyes briefly as he was holding off Joel, and that was decision enough for Jimmy. He squeezed Lizzie’s hand back, and ran with her.

Taglists below! Ask to be added/removed!!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #katherine eilzabeth #fwhip #mythicalsausage #shubble #joey graceffa #pixlriffs #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #flower husbands #seablings #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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onceuponmyanime · 4 years

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I know this event was done last year, but I still wanted to do it from my perspective.

Please feel free to scroll on... 😁

WHAT THE WEDDING DAY WOULD BE LIKE TO THE BOYS:

Lucifer: Vintage

* Theme: Moonlit Night

* Colours: Red

* Suit: White with Black + Red Vest

* Dress: Sheer Overlay with Sleeves

* Cake: Red Roses Layered

* Bouquet: Red Roses

Mammon: Luxurious

* Theme: Crystal + Gold

* Colours: Gold

* Suit: White with Gold Vest

* Dress: Off the Shoulder

* Cake: Gold Layer

* Bouquet: Gold and Pearls

Leviathan: Fantasy

*Theme: Medieval Game

* Colours: Purple

* Suit: White with Purple Vest

* Dress: Elven Medieval

* Cake: Purple Dragon Scales and Sword

* Bouquet: Purple Flax plaited flowers

Satan: Bookish

* Theme: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland

* Colours: Green

* Suit: White with a green vest

* Dress: Long sleeved lace

* Cake:Stack of Books with Cat on top

* Bouquet: Book Page Flowers

Asmodeus: Seductive

* Theme: Cherry Blossom

* Colours: Pink

* Suit: White with Pink vest

* Dress: Transformer Skirt

* Cake: Cherry Blossom Decoration Layered

* Bouquet: Branch of Cherry Blossoms

Beelzebub: Playful

*Theme: All you Can eat

* Colours: Orange

* Suit: White with orange vest

* Dress: Tea Length elbow sleeves

* Cake: Orange Ombre

* Bouquet: Chocolate covered strawberries

Belphegor: Romantic

* Theme: Sleepy Hollow Winter

* Colours: Blue

* Suit: White with Blue Vest

* Dress: Fur Stole

* Cake: Blue Butterflies

* Bouquet: Single Hydrangea

Solomon: Magical

* Theme: Whimsical Magic

* Colours: Silver

* Suit: White with a silver vest

* Dress: Cape like Veil

* Cake: Woodland setting

* Bouquet: Silver flowers

Simeon: Angelic

* Theme: Heavenly Sky

* Colours: Sky Blue

* Suit: White Suit with sky blue vest

* Dress: Flowy

* Cake: Angelic Feathers

* Bouquet: Single lily

Barbatos: Traditional

* Theme: It's Tea Time

* Colours: Teal

* Suit: White with teal vest

* Dress: Ballgown Modest

* Cake: Layer of Cupcakes

* Bouquet: Succulents

Diavolo: Royal

* Theme: A Royal Affair

* Colours: Bronze

* Suit: White with Bronze Vest

* Dress: Princess Dress

* Cake: Royal

* Bouquet: Bronze Silk

Luke: Ringbearer

#obey me shall we date #obey me #anime #obey me!#obey me wedding event #obey me wedding #obey me undateables #obey me brothers

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harrypotterbrainworms · 4 years

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Purebloods and Ballgowns

Summary: Pureblood royalty hold debut balls in high standing for young witches and wizards. You may fall in love for the rest of your life in this magical experience, but your perfect match doesn’t exist within the rules.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name, (L/N)- last name, (H/C)- hair colour (E/C)- eye colour

Word count: 1558

Staring straight into the middle of the ballroom before him, he couldn't help thinking what it would be like to dance like all the men and women at the debut.

The beautiful ball gowns and tuxedos in the crowds swaying with the music as people laughed and smiled, the song coming to end with the rush they felt holding each other's hands.

No one had asked him to the debut, it stung even more so that it was his debut into the world of wizarding royalty. No one particularly liked him, only his family name. The music faded out, chatter and applause erupted as the green tinted candles dimmed. The orchestrator tapped his mark as he lifted his arms, the band standing ready on his command. It was time.

This was the song, the song is parents had told him about. The song they themselves had fallen in love to. The song that many of the young men and women would base their entire lives around.

His mother, who was seated behind him, told him to get up. It was finally time for the debutante ball to commence, the ultimate showing of pride and royalty.

He stood up, his palms clammy and slippery, his throat closing up, his stomach doing butterflies as he stood besides the line of men ready to dance. He spotted a familiar set of blue eyes from his peripherals, a spotless white suit with a small green rose on the chest, his cufflinks branded with the prized emblem of his family name, Malfoy.

He gulped in anticipation for the beginning of the song, scared for outcome of tonight. He had been practicing for months, the steps, the grace, the intent. Out of all outcomes he wished, he wished most for an uneventful night of royal courting.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is our pleasure to present the debutantes of this evening!" His father who was host of this festivity, proudly holding Lucius Malfoy's shoulder. Both raising their glasses in a toast. The rest of the room help up their glasses as the first note of tonight began.

Standing in front of the beautifully dressed ladies in front them, the young men bowed glancing up to receive a curtsy. A nod from both sides started the forward steps to the soft piano. All the hands receiving another, as the ballroom filled with swaying gowns and spinning.

He had been lucky enough to receive the familiar hand of his best friend who was dressed gracefully in her mother's old dress. The green and white lace textures weaving together perfectly. She spent the entire time teasing his footwork, her laughs being met with glares from audience members.

Soon being switched for Pansy Parkinson who was draped head to toe in silver silk, a familiar green rose resting in her hair. Her grip and death glare indicated to him, she was not fond of this switch. The dress and glances over showed her interest lay in dancing the final stretch with her date for the evening.

The time for the final switch came, lovers positioning themselves to seamlessly blend into their choices. As the blonde boy looked him in the eyes, there was a glint in it that he'd never seen before. Pansy slipped her hands out of his, ready to catch the next's hands. (Y/N) getting ready to catch the left over girl's with his, but without a moment's notice he realised the hands he caught weren't the girl's.

"Hello, (L/N)." The blue eyed boy in front of him said, as he continued to dance as though nothing had happened. He smirked as the crowd gasped, Malfoy taking the role as the lead.

They spun around faster as the music picked up, the shorter boy could barely breathe as he got dipped. He could see his father as he hung upside down, the disappointment immeasurable. He just smiled, the rush in his bones-as butterflies made him dizzy.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" He said as they came together again. His heart was beating out of his chest, the adrenaline felt like it was sparking lightning between them. Their every moved watched by the hoards of purebloods, whispering about the boys.

"What does it look I'm doing? I'm dancing." He said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he picked up the boy lifting him in the air. He watched as all the equally confused young women stared at him, their gowns dancing in the air.

"I can see that, you prat. I mean why." He blushed as Draco helped him land before bowing.

He grabbed the blonde's shoulder, swaying with him as Malfoy just stared at him not worrying about the slowly increasing whispers.

"Why not, huh? You only go to the debutante ball once." They were gracefully swaying faster as the climate of the song speed into their ears. Their breathe going heavier and heavier, the blush on both their cheeks growing.

"You know how much trouble we're gonna get into. You were suppose to dance with Pansy, isn't she upset?" He looked up at the smiling idiot, concern in his eyes.

Draco laughed a little, pointing to Pansy with his eyes. She was happily dancing with the girl he was suppose to dance with at the end. He looked confused at Draco as the glint in his eyes were still present.

"You think my father would've just let me end the Malfoy bloodline for a boy?" He held the other boys as the spread apart and back together.

"The answer is no. I couldn't just ask you the ball, not without being beaten by my dad's cane." He smiled widely, too widely for a sentence like that. His eyes held the same glint, but a little dulled now.

"But wouldn't this stunt just make it worse? What will he do to you now, surely he would just kick you out." The boy had a worried look all over his face, of course he loved this boy with his whole heart. He just couldn't just watch as he threw his life away for him.

"Don't worry, okay? I planned this out a lot more than you give me credit for." They now readied for the last part of the routine, they came close together facing almost touching. Only, but inches away from each other.

Heavy breathe blowing on each other's face, the smell of champagne and cigarettes winding together with their scents. They spun around one more time, coming together and giving each other a bow. The music dying down as they heard the clacks of a certain pair of heeled boots approaching them. Draco looked paler than before as he felt his father's hand on the back of his blazer.

"Draco Malfoy! Do you understand what you just did?!" Lucius gripping his son's coat as hard as he was gripping his cane. Draco shook him off turning to face him, he smiled evilly. His face almost morphing into a younger version of the tall man in front of him.

"I do, Father. In fact, I know very well what I did." He spat back, grabbing the other boy's hand in front of the crowd of people. He looked concerned for Malfoy.

"Now if you'd excuse me." He bowed at his father, giving him a smirk as he looked up. "I have a date to entertain" His father was about to the pull the wand out of his cane when Draco immediately drew his disarming his father.

(Y/N) looked over at his parents, who had more concerning looks than very disappointed ones. He gave them a soft smile before being dragged through the ballroom by the blonde.

"I can't stay here while it's like this for me, darling." He held (Y/N)'s hands outside in the large manor's garden, lit by small blue lanterns that made the white rose's look angelic. He could barely pay attention as he stared at the taller boy. The lighting making him look like a Greek statue in an art museum.

"Come with me."

"What."

"There's a car outside the manor waiting for us and a small apartment with a view of the London skyline just like you wanted, but we have to leave now." Draco barely had a minute to explain his plan before he could hear some wizards calling out for them, among them (Y/N)'s family.

"If you want to get out of this world of balls and scowls, come with me." He repeated one more time, the (H/C) boy could barely process what was happening.

Malfoy pulled him behind some bushes as a small group of young men passed them. He looked at Draco, back at the manor and then to his clothing. He wasn't much for this life, he only did it for his parents. Looking back at Draco, he build up as much of his courage as he could.

"Yes." He pulled the boy into a long held kiss before grabbing the blonde's hand, him now leading them to safety.

They both pulled off their coats and suit vest, bow ties falling in the air as they entered the car. Draco throwing it into gear as he turned on the invisibility. They both didn't look back as they rode away from the crowds of people who only moments ago didn't know they were watching an escape plan unfold...

(A/N): Hello! This is my first post here, so be brutal if you want to. I hope you enjoyed the little story. I love me a good ballroom tension scene. If you would like to leave a suggestion you are very welcome and I will try my best to grant your wish.

Have a good day!

,Corvus

#draco malfoy x male reader #draco malfoy #draco #harry potter #x male reader #x reader #malfoy #wizarding world #fanfiction #mlm #royal aesthetic #pureblood

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years

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Little Prince (Pt.1)

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Roman Marrell was a man of class and sophistication. From the way he pinned his crimson hair to the way he stood in things from three-piece suits to floor length ballgown, no one could question that the singer held himself in high regards.

Or at least that's what it seemed to the outsiders. Roman was an incredible actor, but even actors had to break character at some point. There was only one person who Roman could count on not to ruin his life, one person who'd seen Roman with mascara trailing down his face, held him at night when he had nightmares and his face was swimming with so many tears he couldnt see where he was. His brother, Remus Marrell.

Quite the opposite of Roman, Remus looked like the kind of man you'd find looting trash bins for extra cash; loose ties, wrinkled suits, messy brown hair with a white streak he'd had since birth. The twins had two physical compliments to each other, the first was a matching birthmark on each of their hips, both in the shape of one half of a heart. The second, Roman's emerald eyes, and Remus' stunning ruby ones.

Roman may have had a successful career and may have been held higher up by the public. But Remus had something that Roman thought was much more special. Remus had his husband, Virgil Clove. Roman had always wanted a relationship, ever since he was a kid, but every boy he tried to talk to ran from him. Now that he was famous it was easier for boys to fawn over him, but now he knew they only wanted him for his looks, his money, they didnt want to listen to him talk. They wanted a pretty little husband to sit around and sing songs and cook for them while they lounged on the couch spending money on cars and beer.

Roman didnt want that, he wanted something real, he wanted someone who would treat him like a prince instead of a pretty face. But he knew that was reaching to far, for him to reach that level he'd have to have an emotional connection with someone, and he wasnt sure he could fathom something as intimate as that.

"Roman! You're on in five!" Roman looked at himself in the mirror, there he was, dressed in the most stunning of dresses with more sequins and glitter than one man would need in a life time, gold and red eyeshadow that contrasted so well with the green in his eyes, and matched perfectly with the red lipstick he wore. Then there was his tiara, it was large and gold and covered with jewels, but it didnt make him feel like a prince. No, it made him feel like a naive narcissistic fool.

Roman stood up, straightening his clothes before he took to the stage. He was met with whistles and cheers and comments that would make even Remus' stomach churn, whether with rage or disgust, Roman didnt want to know.

Then his eyes locked on someone he didnt recognize, someone new. The man was tall, muscular, with round black glasses and shining blue eyes like he'd stolen them from the ocean itself. His brown hair was a mess of curls, seemingly controlled only by a few bobby pins and hair clips. His lips were parted in a smile, a smile that sent Roman's fragile little heart pounding like rain on a window.

Roman tried his best to keep his eyes on the walls, he didnt like to make eye contact with costumers, it distracted him from his music. But something about this boy made him feel calmer, caused the sounds of everyone else in the crowd to melt into the abyss.

Roman had managed to get through about half of his performance without a single slip up, but rather than forget the lyrics to a song, Roman's performance was cut short but a round of gunfire. Roman ducked under the nearest table, his chest tightened, he felt like he was going numb.

Then he felt an arm around his waist, a strong one. He felt himself lifted off the ground and held close to someone, almost like a porcelain doll that might shatter if it were to be dropped.

Roman didnt know where he was going, but he couldnt seem to muster the words to ask. Soon enough, though, he was set down on the steps of a large building. He turned to face his rescuer, only to be met with those same striking blue eyes.

"You. . . Saved me?" Roman asked, he hadnt meant to sound disappointed, but there was concern etched in the man's face.

"Of course I did, what happened there was in no way meant to harm you, it was a retaliation and it wont be happening again," said the man. He reached up to knock on the door. Another man opened it, this one with brown eyes that looked almost gold, and a nasty looking burn on one side of his face.

"Jay, there's been an attack on the Butterfly Lounge, I'm not sure who did it but I know it can't have ended well," said the man with blue eyes.

Jay paused for a moment, looking over at Roman, Roman felt his insides squirming. "And who's this?" Jay said, his voice almost like a snake's hiss.

"The singer, Roman, I rescued him," said the man, a faint blush coated his face.

"Lo, you are to much of a softie for your own good," Jay spoke in a joking manner, moving out of the doorway and beckoning the two inside.

The inside of the house was elaborate and large, the walls seemed to have been painted over from black to much lighter shades of blue and gray.

"Please, have a seat, I'll have my husband get something for you," Jay said, gesturing Roman toward one of the large chairs in the main room. Roman sat down in the one that looked softest, melting into the fabric as though hoping it would absorb him entirely. Lo sat across from him, pressing his thumbs together as though he were thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, all of thus must be very confusing for you," he stated finally.

"Oh not at all, I understand I've been kidnapped by the mafia and most likely I'm going to be held for a random my parents will never pay and my brother wont be able to afford," Roman said. He wasnt entirely sure why, after all, no one had acted like this was a kidnapping since they'd left the lounge.

Lo sat there for a moment, clearly taken aback. "No no no no- that's the exact opposite of the point, see, it was our rivals that attacked the lounge, I merely wanted to ensure your safety, you'll be returned straight home once you've had a chance to relax, whatever that entails in your opinion," he said, a small smile appearing on his round face.

A few minutes later another boy rushed into the room with two plates. He was short, though he had a similar stature to Lo, and the same round glasses with clear frames, he was dressed in a light blue sweater and a short white skirt, both garments seeming to accentuate his hips.

"Terribly sorry about the wait, are you alright- Roman?" He asked as he shoved a tray over to him with the plate placed on it.

"Im- fine I suppose," Roman replied.

"This is Patton, Jay's husband, he mostly stays here and looks after the house," said Lo. Roman felt his stomach drop.

Patton's eyes widened slightly "oh no it's not like I'm doing this unwillingly, Janus asks me every time he goes out if I'd like to tag along, but I'm just not comfortable with his type of work," Patton said. Roman relaxed slightly.

It took a few hours, a nice warm bath, and a change of clothes for Roman to feel safe enough to go back home, Logan had promised to escort him, and now here they were in his bedroom. He'd allowed Roman to borrow one of his sweaters despite it being not only to long for him, but about two sizes to big. Roman didnt mind, it felt nice, and as long as he had shorts on it wasnt like it was going to do much.

When they finally got back to Roman's apartment, and Roman was finally able to get to a phone, he had a lot of things to explain to his brother. But first, he had to say goodbye.

"Thank you again, for saving me back there," Roman said, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other hugging the sweater closer to his body.

"It was my pleasure, little prince," said Logan, and without another word, he disappeared into his car, and down the street.

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megamegaturtle · 4 years

Text

mon chou, mon chou, mon chou

pairing - draco malfoy/luna lovegood

raitng - m

words - 1,993 (complete)

summary - mon chou:1) A French term of endearment meaning honey or sweetie; literally translates to "my cabbage"2) The time Draco helps Luna steal cabbages from her neighbors

(For the Rare-Pair Judged by the Cover flash comp in the Dumbledore's Armada Discord; Prompt: Crimes and Cabbages; Winner for Host's Favorite)

ao3/ff.net

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Magic thrives in the midnight hours when the world sleeps. Magic is at work, too, when Draco Malfoy knocks on Luna Lovegood’s door. He lingers on her doorstep, nerves fluttering under his skin like both butterflies and bats. Draco longs for fresh air that is not within Wiltshire. He longs for company that sees through him and what he could be rather than his past mistakes and follies.

Draco knocks on the door, the oak firm under his knuckles. The knob twists as if Luna had been waiting on the other side for him. She greets him with the same hospitality she would if she’d provided an invitation.

“I am torn between saying ‘good evening’ or ‘good night’ at this hour,” she muses with a smile. “But, hello, Draco.” Her voice catches between sleeping and awake.

He clears his throat before leaning on her door frame. “Fancy a walkabout, Lovegood?”

She nods and grabs her coat, granting his wish like a creature of the night. Luna leads him down a path only her feet have traveled.

The forest and moon witness them together, standing shoulder to shoulder with all the world’s creatures as their eyes. Down the path they wander, Luna’s hum filling the silence as she carries a basket at her side. They stroll passed a farmhouse before discovering a vegetable patch guarded by Britain’s loneliness scarecrow.

Luna does not fear scarecrows and enters to greet her old friend.

There’s a hum in the garden and a dance in her step as she inspects the perfect cabbage. She kneels in damp soil and unsheathes her blade. She peels back the outer leaves with tenderness, pats the head, and kisses its forehead like a baby.

“One cabbage, two cabbages, where can I find you? Mon chou, mon chou, mon chou,” she sings, off-key, but sweet.

Draco watches from the edge of the cabbage patch, his dragonhide shoes free of any mud. Her footprints lay heavy in the soil, weaving between pumpkin vines and corn stalks, looping around large, midnight-colored aubergines.

The night stills, but watches with bated breath.

The moon swallows Luna, soaking her in silver. She wears the moonbeams like a cape. Bright blue eyes find his across the darkness, and he can see the smile in them. Eyes are windows to the soul, but Luna’s are only labyrinths.

Draco can’t find any scorn or malice in her mazes.

“Cabbages don’t pick themselves, Draco,” she says, her voice drifting across the garden as if she speaks for it. Luna’s voice echoes from all corners and looms in his ears.

The soil squelches under his shoes, the sound reminiscent of spongy bodies and bloody puddles. But Luna beckons again and cares not what he remembers. Draco is at her side in fewer steps than he’d assumed, heart hammering out of sync as she serenades the cabbages.

“Three cabbages, four cabbages, oh how’d I’d like to know you. Mon chou, mon chou, mon chou.”

She saws the cabbage’s stem halfway before she snaps it free and the ringing crack reverberates in the air. She does not look at him as she moves onto the next one. It is a dance, the way she dips into a curtsy, her hand fanning out to her side as if she grabs the skirt of a ballgown. She sinks her knees into the soil again, unbothered by the moisture that sticks the fabric to her skin.

Draco sighs and charms his trousers so they don’t get wet. “Why are we stealing cabbages?”

Luna stops ruffling the leaves and gives him a sidelong glance. “Stealing implies we’re taking something that doesn’t belong to us.”

“Well, yes. The family that lives here might think we’re stealing their vegetables.”

She shrugs and returns to her work. “The fairies that live here said we could take whatever we need. They were here first.”

“And you always listen to fairies?”

“Yes. It’d be stupid to cross a fairy. They know things we don’t know. Wizards? We know just as much as them. More even.”

“Because fairies?”

She gazes at him, her head tilted to the side. “Oh, no, Draco,” she states simply, “it’s because you and I are intelligent.”

Draco nods but says nothing. Dirt packs under his fingernails. A rocky piece of soil pinches his skin. He pulls back the cabbage leaves in search of a head that’s smooth and green.

He watches her out of the corner of his eye as Luna walks further into the garden. She squats with some herbs and takes a sprig of mint. She holds it up to night sky, almost as if it is an offering to the moon who watches from her palace amongst the stars.

Draco isn’t sure when he came to her side again, but he was not called to be. He lowers himself beside her and plucks the herb from her hand, placing the sprig of mint behind her ear like a flower. Luna blinks with surprise, her hand gently touching the leaves as if rose petals.

“Thank you,” she whispers, wearing a faint smile. “This will help me keep cool.”

“Are you feeling warm?”

He tries to rest a hand on her forehead, but Luna jumps up and away, leaving Draco kneeling in the mud alone.

Her gaze is to the sky, her arms overhead as if she’s stretching. “Sometimes, I feel very warm when I’m with you. You take all the coolness when you occlude.”

The stare of the forest weighs heavily on Draco’s shoulders, the expectations haunting him from the shadows.

“All set?” he asks.

Luna fastens the buttons of her coat. “As a bone will ever be.”

The forest’s stare lingers as they walk along to Luna’s cottage. She still wears her spring of mint as if a treasured jewel. Her hum and their footsteps the only noise in the silence.

She invites him inside as if he has always belonged inside her cottage in the dead of night. The moonlight pushes him forward and closes the door as he crosses the threshold. Together, they place their harvest on her modest table. A warm fire crackles in the corner.

They scrub their hands in more silence at her sink. A cauldron bubbles on her counter with a nondescript potion. It smells like springtime and fresh lemon despite that autumn is to be winter next month.

“You have not slept,” Luna says.

“You steal vegetables from your neighbors,” he replies.

“Only wizard neighbors. Fairies gave permission.”

Draco swallows. “Do I—can I—” he says, but then stops.

He closes his eyes and inhales. The warmth of the cottage settles into his bones. Luna taps the counter in a steady rhythm that soothes his heart. He opens his eyes and gives her a deprecating smile.

“What is the unknown?”

Her lips purse together, and she rests a hand on her chin. She does not blink when she answers, the universe wide in her eyes. “The absence of known, but it has its own siren call.”

He laughs. “What does that even mean?”

Her gaze softens. She steps closer. The moonlight filters through her window, and outlines of enchanted wings rest on her back. “It means that I forgive you and I want you,” she says. “It means your unknown is known.”

Draco stops breathing for a second, but then confidence awakens in his chest. “Does that mean I can steal a kiss, mon petite chou?”

She chuckles quietly. “Stealing implies it’s not yours.”

In the moments that don’t add up, Draco crosses the arm’s length between them, kissing Luna on the mouth. She smells of mint and soil, but her touch is fire on his skin as she cups his face. He buries his fingers in her fine hair and their bodies meld together.

“Sleep with me,” she commands, and he obeys.

Like her muddy footprints, their clothes trail them as they make their way to her bed. He trips trying to get out of his trousers, and she is there to catch him with calm yet sturdy arms. They laugh as they fall into bed, her lips peppering his face with kisses. They are only vested in their undergarments.

He settles into the plush comforter, the scent of lavender encompassing them both. She leans over him, her hair a silky curtain that tickles his bare shoulder. Luna traces the soft skin under his eye. “I’m so happy that you’re here.”

He grasps her hand and kisses her palm. “You’re too good for me, Luna.”

“I am only as good as one’s idea of morality. To me, we are both good. I wouldn’t invite you in otherwise.”

Adoration wells in Draco’s chest, and he pushes himself up to kiss Luna again. He takes his time and savors each moment. There is no rush or need for frantic passion as his hands trail down the curve of her spine. He unclasps her bra and relishes in the feeling of her chest against his.

She giggles as he lightly glides his hand across the dip of her waist, but then he tugs her knickers off without a care in the world.

“Perfect,” he whispers with reverence. “Absolutely perfect.”

Luna does not hide her body and preens under the praise. Her fingers trace his forearm as she spreads her legs open. Her arousal perfumes the air.

“Touch me, please.”

In the soft glow from the moon, Draco teases her warm slit. His fingers slide inside her with ease, and there is nowhere more he’d rather be. He kisses her neck as he pumps his fingers inside of her, enjoying the way she moans. Her hand finds her clit, and together they bring her pleasure. She presses hard onto herself, her fingers moving in precise circles she’s traced a thousand times.

Draco matches her pace, the tension in the room mirrored in the locking bones of her body. Luna fucks herself on his fingers, and their hands bump into each other’s. She stops breathing, her back curving off the mattress. She smiles to the moon hiding behind the roof, her free hand intertwined with Draco’s. Her hips jerk, the tension of her body snapping as she rocks into his hand in a slowing descent. Her content sigh as she opens her eyes reminds him of a gentle breeze at the seashore.

With a breathy laugh, she reaches for him and palms his cock through his briefs. “Hi.”

He kisses her chest, sucks on the spot above her heart until he’s left a mark. Her fingers find his hair as he shimmies out of his pants. With a lightness that only comes with hearing Luna’s breath in his ears, Draco allows the warmth to encircle him as he enters her. He feels worthy of this moment, feels that he belongs to the witch beneath him.

Luna crosses her legs behind him and forces him to bottom out inside of her. She giggles as he groans into her neck, her hands gripping his shoulders to draw him closer. He rocks into her slowly, taking his time as the concept disappears. There is only now, only the feeling of Luna under him, meeting him stroke for stroke.

She touches herself again, blunt nails smooth against his cock as he fucks her. She squeezes tight, and Draco wonders if these are how constellations are made. Supposes the stars above come from moments where two people join as one. Her breath hitches again, her back curving. Her nipples skim across his skin.

“Draco,” she whispers, a ghost of a kiss on his shoulder.

Draco holds her tighter, finds her mouth to swallow her moans, steals her breath because she’s given it to him. He comes with her lips cool across his, her tongue soft and saliva sweet as she orgasms. He can feel her heart beating hard as he cuddles into her chest, finding home and purpose where his future has no crime, except for stolen cabbages.

#druna #hp fanfic #draco malfoy #luna lovegood #draco x luna #dmll #drabble #my fic #i'm really happy with this story!#i'm really glad i won host's favorite too!#eeee :D #also #totally old school on the tumblr by posting the whole chapter #I WILL ALWAYS DO THIS LOL #can't get it out of me

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Desert Rose

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Shikamaru Nara, Temari

Additional Tags: Medieval AU

Hey, everybody! Here is my piece for Day 2 of ShikaTema Week for the prompt “Masquerade.” I hope everyone enjoys it~!

Temari’s slender arms glided through the sleeves of the ballgown as her attending ladies slipped it over her head. The heavy fabric slumped against her legs to puddle at her feet in rivers of white and cream and gold. One of her waiting ladies bundled a bronze corset to her chest, while another began tying up the ribbons with expert fingers. Careful hands smoothed every crease and crumple in the ballgown’s embroidered, bejeweled skirt as they straightened out the magnificent train, while pooled behind Temari like a grand golden-brown lake. Her blue-green eyes searched her reflection in the mirror as a maid combed and styled her voluminous, fluffy blonde hair, piling it atop her head in two buns streamed with beads of topaz. They settled a golden crown inlaid with crystal, tourmaline, and smoky quartz upon her brow and strung dangling earrings from her lobes. Perfumes of sandalwood, cinnamon, and nutmeg clouded the air around her, before the misted droplets settled upon her skin and were absorbed. Finally, a mask fashioned in the image of a golden hawk fell over her eyes, and Temari’s preparations were at last complete.

“You look splendid, my lady,” one of her attendants cooed over her shoulder with a happy smile. Temari’s lips curled up into a smirk, and she skimmed her fingers underneath her chin, admiring her regal personage reflected within the smooth glass.

“You think?” The ladies giggled at her pseudo-insecurity. Temari’s ladies revered her for her unflinching confidence and brash boldness, so they knew her comment was in jest. Temari ruffled the heavy skirts enveloping her smooth, slender frame. “I must, or Father will be most displeased.” Discontentment saturated her voice.

“I am sure that His Majesty’s efforts to secure My Lady a husband will be most successful,” one of the young girls, a hopeless romantic, sighed dreamily at her hip as she adjusted the train of Temari’s gown. The princess snorted derisively and cocked back her head.

“At the very least, he has finally allowed me to seek my own suitor. I cannot believe he offered me that bungling, dreamy-eyed fool that is the Uzumaki heir. He has eyes for the captain of his guard, and that is painfully obvious,” she haughtily snorted. Not that Temari cared if the future king of Konoha kingdom was besotted with the stoic, raven-haired knight; as long as he left her well enough alone, he could romance the entirety of his royal sentinel for all she cared. “It is too bad for the Hyuga princess, though,” she smirked as her ladies trilled in laughter. “The poor dear is enamored with him and has no idea that he grazes on the other side of the pasture.”

“My Lady Temari! You are too bold!”

“That Sasuke Uchiha is a dream, though. I cannot blame Lord Naruto for his fondness.”

“You hush now!” Temari laughed as she strode away from the mirror to her bower’s window while her ladies gossiped of various lords and ladies. Temari sank onto the plush pillow of her window seat, watching the stream of horse-drawn carriages and guard details pour in through the open gates of the desert palace. Many had come from far and wide to woo the indomitable Temari of the Sand, and many would leave with their hopes ruthlessly dashed. Temari leaned her cheek in her hand with a weary smile.

“Father only wants to marry me off so that I can produce a male heir before he has to relinquish his throne to me.” Temari was the only one available to be heir, but her father still refused it, as she was a woman. Their mother had died in childbirth of Gaara, and her loss drove their father to weld iron around his heart. He became dispassionate and totalitarian and cruel. It drove Kankuro to rebel and renounce his royal name to escape into the desert sands, and poor little Gaara was driven mad and imprisoned for his insanity and malice. In love for her poor baby brother, she arranged for his smuggling beyond the border.

Temari was the only one who knew what had become of them. Somehow, in the vast full world, they had reclaimed their own identities and were living peaceful lives in the neighboring forest land of Konoha, under the protection of the very princeling that had half-heartedly courted Temari. He was a fool with his heart on his sleeve, but Temari was at least grateful he had offered her displaced brothers a home with no strings attached. She smirked wryly as she watched the sun sink below the red sands. “It is a curse to be a woman, but especially in royalty. Count yourselves lucky in that, my dears,” she said as she turned back to her waiting ladies. They all bowed their heads and shuffled their feet. The world will still be cruel to them. It has no love of the female sex, she grimaced.

It didn’t matter if the world had no love for Temari. Every mountain that it tossed as her would be flung aside with the force of a sandstorm. She would not relinquish her agency, not for anything. “Is it time?” she asked, and languidly rose from the window seat. Darkness had descended over the desert; one by one, the braziers scattered around the palace were springing alive with flame.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Come then. Let us see what the desert winds have brought us,” Temari smiled and strolled towards the door. Two of her ladies carried her sprawling skirt train, while another held her hand to escort her properly. Together, they wound around the spiraling sandstone steps of her tower suite into the main wing of the lofty palace. The ball was already underway; lamplight glowed at the end of the carpeted hall, soft and yellow, and minstrels’ music floated on the air. As they rounded the corner, Temari watched the shadows dance along the walls. Dark men led grey ladies in dance all around her. They danced like their feet rested on the ever-present wind, skirts swishing like banners caught high in the morning breeze. Temari wondered if any among them would intrigue her enough even to entertain the thought of marriage. Most likely not. Most of them desire the iron mines, not me.

Politics was a cutthroat world, after all.

“Hail, Princess Temari!” a squire announced as she and her ladies strode into the ballroom. The attendants paused their revelry to return the hailing and bow respectfully to her. Their masked personages studied her as she marched to the long, clothed table situated at the back of the room, where her father was stuffing his face with roast quail imported from Konoha. They were lucky their kingdom sat upon the densest concentration of ore in all the realm, else he would likely be dining on stewed rat. Temari seated herself in the gilded chair beside him, and the servants wasted no time in procuring her a plate laden with delicacies imported from almost every kingdom in the Great Alliance.

“So, my daughter,” King Rasa tutted as he cracked the wing joint of the artichoke-stuffed bird, “many have come to look upon your beauty. Will you not at least give them the pleasure of a smile?”

“That pleasure must be earned,” she answered stoically and crunched on a tomato with only enough force to not breach propriety. He scowled at her.

“Willful girl. You should show more respect to your father.”

“That pleasure must also be earned.” Temari ignored his scathing glares to partake in the lovely spinach salad before her. Rasa continued to silently fume beside her; Temari wished she could exploit her willfulness in full capacity, but she did owe a duty to her kingdom to find a suitable husband, at least. As she chewed on the tender flesh of the quail, her sea-blue eyes raked the crowd of lords and ladies. A multitude of masks pranced within the sea of bodies- a blooming lotus, a roaring bear, a graceful swan, a gallant lion, a watchful crow, a tusked boar, and a colorful butterfly, to name a few. However, it was the majestic stag that caught her gaze for more than a few seconds, as its wearer strode undauntedly up to the royal table.

“Your Majesty. My Lady,” he uttered respectfully as he held a hand to his chest and bowed down to a ninety-degree-angle. The curved white horns of his mask jutted into the air like pale fulgurite. Black eyes twinkled behind the white-spotted curves of the mask as the man smirked at Temari. “Care to dance?” He asked while extending his hand to the princess. Temari had to summon all the will in her body to keep her mouth from falling open. What cheek, to beseech me as I am eating! The glimmer in his onyx eyes indicated that he was well aware of the nerve of his action. Temari found herself smiling at his boldness. No man had ever dared so brazenly court her. Despite her father’s complaints, she found herself bundling up her skirts to hurry around the edge of the table.

“It would be my pleasure, good sir,” she responded once she was in front of him, dropping into a curtsy. His smirk widened when she slipped her hand into his. A pink haze alighted her cheeks as he brought it to his mouth to drop a kiss onto it. Those glinting obsidian eyes bored into hers, like a thunderstorm rolling upon the blue-green sea. The snark and self-assurance were a welcome change from simpering, underhanded compliments. Thus, she allowed him to sweep her out onto the dance floor without so much as a peep.

“I had wanted to wait until you finished eating,” he admitted as he settled his hand upon her waist and held her other aloft, “but the crowd was rippling with your compliment. I realized I had to make a good first impression. Have I succeeded?”

“No man has ever dared interrupt my dinner.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he purred. He eased into the movements as the band started up their melody, circling her around the marble dance floor. Temari’s dress swished around her knees as he rocked her gently with the beat, guiding her with utter surety. It was clear that her suitor was of high birth, perhaps even a prince.

“Tell me. From where do you come?”

“The vast forest lands to the east, if it pleases My Lady,” he responded. He paused to spin her around before easily reclaiming her slender corseted waist. “My family has long made a living developing medicines and droughts for the illnesses of the world.”

“You’re Shikamaru Nara?” she gasped in shock, and he nodded. The Naras were under the dominion of the Uzumaki’s kingdom, a noble house renowned for their doctors rather than their knights. They were known to keep very much to themselves, marrying middleborn children of dukes and minor lords. One had never been so bold as to court a princess, let alone one of the heirs to the vast wealth of the Sand Kingdom. Temari found herself relishing the fact. “You are bold.”

“I imagine you grow bored of empty flatteries and the whispers of sycophants who want nothing more than to usurp your throne.”

“How do I know I am not in the arms of a usurper as we speak?” A delighted smirk flashed on his lips, and Shikamaru brought his face close, close enough for his hot breath to puff over her face. A titillated shiver traveled the length of her spine.

“I care not for caverns of iron or halls of gold. My interest lies in a single topaz shimmering in the vastness of the desert.” Temari’s cheeks blazed with the pinkness of an opal, and she shifted her fingers that were clasped in his hand, feeling them grow clammy with nervous sweat. Many had compared her to precious gems before, but this was the first time it sent a nervous titter springing through her nerves. “It is true, some in this realm are more renowned for their beauty-” Shikamaru cast a look at a raven-haired woman in a moonflower mask who was undoubtedly the Hyuga heiress, “but I find that the flower that blooms under hardship puts them all to shame.”

“And what hardship would that be?” Temari asked with a coy grin.

“The crushing thumb of a father who values you more for what is between your legs than what you have to offer.” His lewdness set a blaze to her cheeks, but his words rang hollowly in her heart. Her chin dropped against her chest as she bowed her head, for tears were gleaming on her blonde lashes.

“You speak truly. My father wishes to marry me quickly, so that I may produce an eligible heir.”

“A pity. I have heard much of the shrewd tenacity of the Desert Rose.” The epithet had always grated her. There were much more distinguished and inspiring names she could bear, but she was known for her looks more than anything else. Still, hearing Shikamaru call her such was more bearable than usual. He stepped a little closer to her as he continued to ease her through the dance steps so that their chests brushed. When she glanced up, he was staring into the crowd. “None of these men care for your value, really. They want power, or influence, or wealth. It is dangerous and disappointing to be a woman in politics.” Temari blinked disbelievingly. Surely, he must be speaking words that I wish to hear to gain my trust. This man may be more cunning and sly than all the lords in this hall- and so the most perilous. She jumped when he peeked at her with a wry smile. “You are thinking my words dishonest, a ploy to lead you into a false sense of security.”

“Indeed. What man has ever cared for a woman’s place in this world?”

“A man who recognizes an amazing woman when he sees one.” Despite her misgivings, her cheeks still flushed again. He flashed her a sincere smile. “I arrived here four days ago. I wanted to know if the tales of the courteous and intelligent Lady Temari were true. So, I disguised myself and wandered the town. The townsfolk and knights speak very highly of you,” he said, making Temari smile shyly. “Your council has averted war many a time. You reallocate funds to ensure the people have food and water and healthcare. I’ve even heard you descended into the rabble to deliver medicine to plague-ridden peasants while your father insisted that three doctors attend him until the sickness dissipated.”

“The people gossip. Rumor is a powerful thing.”

“But most rumor contains a speck of truth, no?” Caught red-handed, Temari could only bashfully look down at her feet. It was true; Temari boasted many a political feat. Her father had once been a kind and just man, but age and toil had disfigured him into someone paranoid and venal.

“My father has forgotten that without the people, we are nothing. They are our charge. It is our responsibility to protect and care for them. All he cares about protecting now is his house and his wealth,” she sighed dismally with a glance Rasa. He was in fervent discussing with King Minato Namikaze and his queen Kushina; her father was always bleating about maintaining a good relationship until they could stab them in the back and usurp their fertile forest territory. Temari quite liked the royal family, as they were just and fair and well-liked by their people, so she had coaxed her father out of fruitless war efforts many a time. “I am but a means to an end,” she lamented quietly, turning back to him to look at him pitifully.

He released her waist to grip her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“It would be a pity if the beautiful Desert Rose wilted before she ever got to bloom,” he murmured. The pad of his thumb ever-so-gently brushed over her bottom lip. His dark eyes studied her intently, and all Temari could do was stare. She had never meant a man like this, that sent her heart fluttering because he saw her, not her throne or her father.

She was gripped with the overwhelming need to see him.

“I wish to leave this place. Be alone… with you.” He flashed her a beguiling smirk.

“As My Lady wishes.” They ceased dancing, and the room erupted into pleased applause. He offered her his arm, which she took, wrapping her hands around his bicep. He guided her back into the throng, meandering through the mass of royals to lead her towards the exit. They chatted amiably with various prominent figures, and though he was of lower birth, Shikamaru commanded more presence than even the most celebrated kings. After what seemed a life age, they finally slipped behind one of the tapestries into a servants’ passage. There, Temari grabbed him by the hand and broke into a run. His startled gasp bounced through the small crawlspace, followed by her gleeful laughter.

“How do you know your way through here?!” he asked loudly as she expertly weaved through the labyrinthine array of tunnels. She stuck out her tongue at him over her shoulder.

“How do you think I snuck out to deliver medicine?”

By the time they burst into the garden, they were red-faced and panting. The moonlight streamed down from a cloudless sky, casting the world in its milk-white glow. The garden was actually a vast greenhouse, as the arid desert climate made it difficult to cultivate most plants. The glass panes misted with condensation from the evening’s watering and the plants’ respiration. This particular section was the garden proper; another area was cordoned off for the kitchen’s supply. Flowers imported from all corners of the realm bloomed here, but regardless of what color their soft petals boasted, they were dyed silver from the starlight.

Temari strolled to a stone bench nearby and sat down, tucking the thick fabric of her skirts under her thighs. Shikamaru eased down beside her and sighed exultantly.

“It’s a beautiful garden.”

“I imagine the forests of your homeland are much better. Wild, untamed, not carefully tended with every errant leaf snipped away,” she frowned with a glance around the pristine garden. Shikamaru chuckled and leaned back on his hands.

“You’ve got me there.” He paused, inhaling the air laden with the robust aroma of loamy soil and fresh water. “There’s nothing like it, Temari,” he breathed wistfully. “Wandering the paths through the wood, with the birdsong filling the air and decaying leaves crunching under your feet… There is so much life out there, so much wonder.” He gave her a humorous look. “Still, the desert has its beauty too.” He punctuated the remark with a graze of his knuckles over her cheek. She leaned into the caress, smiling softly.

“Yes. The sky stretches on forever, like a blanket of sapphire over the world… And the sunsets are magnificent. Many a time I have watched the world fall away as the colors bleed over the horizon like paint, filling the kingdom with the glow… I can forget, sometimes, and just watch it sink. No crown, no throne, no iron mines… Just the majesty of it.”

Shikamaru smiled, then removed the mask from his face. His sharp jawline seemed all the finer in the white light, and his dark eyes shone like polished hematite. He was incredibly handsome. As Temari stared, his hands came to her face to gently remove the hawk mask from her face, and she allowed him to do so. Slowly, he pulled it away, and drew in a sharp breath.

“You are more beautiful than I could have imagined.” She flushed, her cheeks glowing rose in the soft light. He stroked her cheek again, and the pad of his thumb spawned a trail of fire across her cheekbone. His fingertips skipped down her jawline to rest against the column of her throat, feeling the blood pulse thunderously through her veins. “Beautiful, and much too special to be doomed to a bridal gown.”

“Yet, doomed I am,” she whispered woefully. Shikamaru was a splendid man, more honest and enticing than any she had ever met. Yet, if the courtship proved fruitful, she would still be no more than his bride. Their son, when he came of age, would be ripped from their grasp to begin training for his role as Rasa’s successor. Frustrated tears sprung to her eyes to then roll down her cheeks. Shikamaru tutted softly and swept them away, only for more to come. “I am no more than a tool in political bargaining. My talents will never be acknowledged by my father. Whomever I marry, I will be shipped off like common goods and serve only to spawn heirs.” She hung her head, sniffling. “It is a lamentable existence.”

“Lamentable indeed,” he remarked in a soothing whisper, “but is it entirely horrible?” She peered through her blonde lashes at him. “Temari, I cannot give you all that you seek. I cannot change your father’s mind.” He smiled wanly and cupped her face in his hands; they were so warm and comforting. “All I have to offer you is my heart, true as death. I will love you and you only. I cannot make you a queen, but you shall always rule me. I will live only for your happiness.” His voice shattered into a ragged whisper full of emotion, and Temari did not doubt that he spoke truthfully. Her hands rose to stroke the tops of his and her eyes fluttered as she attempted to dry her tears.

“That doesn’t sound entirely horrible,” she admitted with a small laugh. He smiled relievedly and continued caressing her teary face.

“I wish more than anything that you could be given what you deserve,” he said softly and pressed his forehead to hers. “I am sorry. What I can give you falls utterly short of it.”

“No,” she refused and smiled kindly at him. “What you have offered me tonight is more than anyone has ever given. If you offer me your hand, I will take it gladly,” she said and stroked his chin, her fingertips rolling over the black stubble, “for you are the first man who has ever offered himself wholly to me.”

“I pity all the men who have come before. They knew not the treasure within their grasp,” he smiled thickly. Her eyes now studied his face, the lines and the contours. He truly was handsome, but it was clear that his honesty had caused him much grief. The world was just as cruel to honest and just men as it was to women. Her sea-blue eyes dropped to his lips, and she fancied kissing them. It seemed Shikamaru was having similar thoughts.

Their lips melded together, slotting together like the were made for one another. Her fingers ghosted the side of his face in repetitive touches, while his found purchase on her waist, pulling her closer. His breath clouded over her mouth as he shifted his head to the other side to kiss her with more fervor, drawing a small, needy moan from within her. Their arms wound around each other and every inch of skin possible touched, but it was not enough, not nearly enough…

The world was cruel to Temari, but it was kind enough to give her someone who loved her utterly, truly, wholly… and in that moment, it was enough. It was enough.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @shikatemaweek @deliathedork @searchfortheonepiece

#shikatema #shikatemaweek #shikatemaweek2020 #shikamaru x temari #temari x shikamaru #shikamaru nara #nara shikamaru #temari #temari of the sand #temari no sabaku #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #medieval au

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

Text

Amoureux (c.s./d.s.) - Chapter Three

A/N This song is such a vibe with this novel, I think it’s the theme song to Amoureux...

Supper was rang for at exactly 6pm and Louisa, now in her dinner attire, led herself back down the grand stairs case towards the dining room. Her long light pastel green ballgown descended the stairs behind her, her shoulders straight and squared as she was always taught, the puff sleeves and low neckline accentuated by her pearl necklace gifted to her by her mother before she left France.

The uniform guards that lined the palace halls bowed at the head as she passed on her way to the dining room. Just past the stairs, as Mary has instructed, was the large white door leading into the grand dining room. The large mahogany table was enough to seat thirty guests, centered in the room around red paneled walls and a massive white fireplace. On the opposite wall were a line of windows, framed in red satin curtains and spanning almost to the top of the twenty-foot gold encrusted ceiling. The many candles lit up the table across the red velvet table runner and centerpieces.

Louisa knew the routines well, standing behind her place setting to wait for the King and Queen to come in and be seated first. She took that moment to admire the room, eyes drifting up the fireplace mantle behind her to the decorative clock near the ceiling, trimmed in marble carvings and the hands of the clock were dipped in gold. Only moments later, the door opened again and the King, Queen, and Prince walked into the dining room.

Louisa curtsied to them.

“So sorry to keep you waiting, darling.” The Queen smiled kindly as they all took their spots around the table.

“No trouble.” Louisa replied, glancing to Christian who was placed beside her.

One butler each pulled out each of the chairs for each member of the royal family and tucked it behind them as they sat. Almost right away, another group of uniformed men came through door on the far wall with the appetizer plates.

“Your room is to your liking I hope?” Christian asked softly as they began eating.

“It’s absolutely lovely.” Louisa offered a smile to the table, lingering on Christian’s dimpled grin a moment longer.

“We are very pleased that you have been so accepting of this arrangement. More often than not the ladies tend to put up a bit of a fight.” The King chuckled as they ate.

“Father says it’s for the benefit of everyone so who am I to disagree?” Louisa said, making the table cheers lightheartedly to that.

“Usually our other two children would join us for supper but since this is all new, we thought having a smaller group for the first night would make it easier on you.” The Queen explained.

“Oh, much obliged.” Louisa blushed. “I do not want to be a vexation to your family, however. That is not my intention.”

“Not at all.” The Queen assured her. “They enjoy the rare chance to eat in their rooms. Youthful excitement of the little things in life.”

“I am sure you will meet them tomorrow morning come breakfast.” The King added. “We don’t want them running havoc at the gala tonight.”

“Mother and Father were insistent on throwing us an engagement gala.” Christian explained lightly to Louisa. She shared his friendly smile, his blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight, dimples pressed into his cheeks, and simply the look of him had her turning shyly back to her appetizer.

“Nothing too grand for the future King and Queen of England, if I do say so myself.” The King declared, raising his wine glass in the air before taking a sip.

Louisa bit back her smile as she felt Christian’s gaze linger on her a moment longer.

Guests started arriving by the time dinner came to an end and the butlers began to usher the guests into the ballroom, the men wearing full suits and ties and women in their best gowns and biggest pieces of jewelry. Gala’s weren’t new to Louisa, having been raised in a royal family herself, but without the reassurance of her father’s presence, she felt so out of place among the crowd of strangers. Christian seemed to sense her uncertainty as they waited outside the large double doors for their introduction and he offered her his arm and a gentle smile. Louisa set her glove hand in the crook of his elbow and smiled as honestly as she could muster.

“Don’t fret.” Christian whispered to her. “I’ll be right by your side.”

Louisa could feel her heartbeat speed up in her chest, his other hand resting over hers that was on his arm for a moment before they were both standing up nice and straight and ushered into the ballroom by the guards.

The ballroom was double that of the dining room with the same high ceilings and gold detailing. The crystal chandeliers that lined the room sent sparkles of light in patterns along the wooden flooring and white paneled walls with gold trim. The crown moulding was elaborately carved in itself, only a fraction of the grandeur of the room as a whole, details down to each door frame lined precisely with the most expensive touches.

The room was nearly filled with guests, all standing to welcome the newly engaged royal couple with applause and smiles. Christian was absolutely beaming, and Louisa couldn’t deny that she was as well; two young adults grown from the lavish lifestyle stemmed from public attention. The sixteen-year-old girl was definitely not complaining having such a handsome man at her side, tightening her fingers around his arm a bit as the crowd watched them move to the center of the dancefloor for the first dance of the night.

Although they hadn’t danced together before, both were all too familiar with ballroom dancing, being taught from a young age how to properly dance at a gala. Louisa set her hand fall from his arm as they took place in front of each other. She offered him a deep curtsy as he bowed before he held out his hand to her and she set her left hand in his right. The did one lap around the open dancefloor, the guests bowing or curtsying as they passed, hand in hand, before resting back in the center.

Louisa stepped closer, setting her free hand just behind his shoulder and Christian set his on her waist, their fingers tucking around each other securely. Louisa always loved dancing but without a partner she had practiced with, she was a bit uncertain.

The string quintet began to play, and Christian gave her a reassuring smile before leading them off. The steps were engraved in her memory and although she let him lead, her feet moved skillfully in time with his, her light eyes locked on his. Their eye contact was nearly unbreakable, Christian’s peaceful smile sending butterflies to erupt in her stomach almost to the rhythm of the Boccherini’s Minuet in the background, his warm hands holding her so tenderly she felt like she might melt right out of her stockings. She truly couldn’t believe her luck to be sent from her home to marry a handsome gentleman who happened to be an incredible dancer, as well as one of the politest young men Louisa had ever met. She was already adoring her time in England and it hadn’t even been a full day.

The song soon came to an end and Christian and Louisa bowed and curtsied respectfully to each other as the crowd applauded.

The guests began to mingle and find the dance floor themselves as the music began again and Christian offered his arm to Louisa to lead her out of the thick of things.

“You are an incredible dancer.” Louisa complimented as he pulled out her chair for her at one of the tables and she sat down.

“I was going to say the same about you.” Christian replied, placing himself next to her. “It truly felt like I was dancing with an angel.”

Louisa felt herself blush, “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“I did not want to be improper in front of my parents, but I must say, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon.” Christian said softly.

“Oh, goodness.” Louisa chuckled nervously at his forwardness, never having been so complimented in such a way.

“I do not wish to ail you; I am only speaking my truth.”

“No, it is quite alright. I thank you.” Louisa assured him, setting her hand on top of his. “I have been thinking the same about you all day, really.”

Christian blushed himself, biting back a small smile as he looked to his lap for a moment to hide his embarrassment before looking back up at her, his blue eyes shining in the candlelight that filled the golden room, “I cannot wait to get to know you better.”

“Me as well.” Louisa smiled.

“Your Royal Highnesses.” a gentleman came over to their table, bowing slightly to them before Christian was welcoming him to join them.

Louisa barely heard the introduction of who the man was before she let herself scan the room, watching the swishing of ballgowns and the lively chatter over the music. Christian spoke to the gentleman politely, the topic of politics being the first to arise, most likely his goals as future King which Christian spoke to with excellence as if he had been practicing all his life.

Louisa’s eyes landed on the dessert table farther back behind Christian against the wall, piled high with pies and cakes and pastries of all sorts on gold and silver platters. She wanted nothing more than to go over there and fill a plate for herself, but she felt guilty at simply the idea of leaving Christian, knowing her responsibility to sit quietly beside him until spoken to.

But the cakes looked too good. A young man in a black suit leaned over the end of the table, his hands holding the side as he peered over the spread, his brown hair nearly flopping over his forehead as he did so. He was young himself, not much older than Louisa if at all and she watched his cheeky grin come to his pink lips as he reached out a thumb and forefinger to a plate of pastries.

A hand came smacking down to the back of his hand, the Queen now stationed in front of him with her hands on her hips as she scolded him. Louisa was too far out of ear shot to hear what she was saying but the boy’s frown was explanation enough. Louisa knew that exact scolding from her own mother all too well.

The Queen rushed back into the crowd to mingle with her guests. Louisa kept her eyes on the young boy who was rubbing the back of his hand with his other from where his mother had smacked him, a pout set over his lips as he glanced at the dessert table once more.

His eyes were on Louisa’s next, the vibrant blue easily seen through the crowd and she felt shivers tear down her arms from his simple gaze, making her shift to look back at Christian who was still in deep conversation with the man. When Louisa looked back to the table a few seconds later, she only caught a glimpse of the boy slinking off along the wall and out the main doors of the ballroom.

Filled with curiosity, Louisa set her hand on Christian’s shoulder as a sign of excusing herself from the table and she headed for the dessert table. She could hear her mother already; scolding her for leaving a conversation before it was over and for cakes of all things.

But her mother wasn’t there, and Louisa piled a plate high with extra desserts and pastries, nearly drooling at the sight of all the choices. She glanced back towards Christian who was still busy in conversation, giving her a moment to sneak off to where the boy had gone, extra desserts on her plate ready to share if she could find him. Anything was more interesting than political discussions with old men of too much societal standing.

Louisa easily found the boy just outside the ballroom, tucked up in the window ledge of one of the tall windows in the red painted atrium to the gala overlooking the grounds. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared out the window, his hair a bit of a dishevelled mess on his head and the top buttons of his suit undone for comfort rather than what was proper. Louisa’s mother would have had a fit.

He glanced over at her as she approached him and she offered him a small smile as she held out the plate of desserts, “I saw you eyeing them so I figured I should help you out.”

“Thank you!” he grinned, moving over on the window seat so she could sit next to him. She held the plate as he took one of the pastries he had been trying to snag earlier and popped the whole thing in his mouth.

“You recommend those then?” she questioned lightheartedly.

He nodded quickly, smothering his laughter behind his hand as his mouth was full with the dessert. Louisa giggled herself as she took the second one and let herself have a small bite.

“Goodness, those are divine.” she groaned pleasantly, eagerly eating the rest right away.

“Bit of a secret recipe from our kitchen staff.” The boy said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, leaving a dusting of power on the black material.

Louisa chuckled at his obvious recklessness in comparison to the regality of his family, something she herself was so like.

“How are you liking my brother?” he asked casually as he took another dessert from the plate.

“He is very handsome and very charming.” Louisa smiled politely, picking up a small cake for herself as well.

“I doubt that. Christian is downright lame.” the boy tisked.

“Well I think my brother is downright lame as well…and an absolute brat.” Louisa challenged.

“Touché.”

“Ah, a Frenchman at heart.” Louisa praised.

“Not in the slightest.” he chuckled. “I’m Daniel, by the way. No future King or a man of any important destiny whatsoever, but I know where to find the extra desserts and pudding.”

“That is extremely important knowledge.” Louisa giggled. “I’m Louisa, although I do not doubt you already know that. I did not have a destiny either until my father shipped me over here to your brother.”

“So then we are one in the same, Princess Louisa.” Daniel said as posh-ly as he could fake, making her laugh again.

They took a moment of silence to eat another dessert each.

“Would you like to get out of this lame party? I know this place like I live here.” Daniel joked, jumping up from the window seat to face her, wiping his hands on his trousers.

Louisa hesitated, glancing back to the open doors of the ballroom, the muffled music leaking into the empty atrium where they stood, “I should return to your brother, I am afraid. This gala is for me after all.”

“I suppose. They would not do well with a missing lady of the hour.” Daniel said, following her eyes into the bustling room beyond.

“Not in the slightest.” Louisa chuckled. She stood up and held the plate out to him, “You can take the rest. I know how mothers can be about swiping desserts.”

Daniel thanked her through a wide grin as he took the plate from her, showing a little gap between his teeth that seemed to be enough of a quirk about him to make her legs feel a tad weak. She quickly pushed away any thought of the boy in front of her, offering him a quick curtsey, “Thank you for the company, Prince Daniel. It’s been a privilege.”

“The honour is all mine, Princess Louisa.” he whispered, smiling after her as she rushed back into the crowded ballroom.

#daniel seavey #christian seavey #wdw #why dont we #royal!wdw #historical fiction #jack avery #jonah marais #corbyn besson #zach herron #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we fanfic #christian seavey fanfic #daniel seavey imgaines #why dont we imagines #limelight #wdw imagines #why dont we music #👑

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 4 years

Note

Alright maybe I'm just a sucker for weddings (I am) but number 23? - 🍰

How have you been?????

23. What's your dream wedding like?

Congrats, you've got the jackpot of me talking for forever

So I've had a Pinterest wedding board since I was approximately 16 I have given this thought.

So I'll start with the more wishy washy things.

I like buffet style for food. Now I'm totally sure that's a lot more expensive than plates BUT I'm a picky eater and also I say a picture of a taco bar once and I loved it. I also like the layouts of cheeses and fruits and, things like that and like, I don't want stuff boring food. I want tacos. Also I'll wear something so it doesn't get on my dress.

For colour pallet I'm not 100% sure. Its gotta match the season and the setting. I don't have a set place yet or type of location so that's pretty flexible. I do like having at least one deep blue or deep green tone in the colour pallet but the rest depends on season and THAT depends on the engagement because I really hate the idea of having a long engagement so when we get engaged will heavily affect the time of year for the wedding.

I have always loved the idea of a handmade origami bouquet. My friend made me some flowers for my 18th bday and if i still have them I wanna use them (there was a whole story with it) and like I love handmade paper decorations so that's on the list.

Okay I've mention this before but I love pearl rings like

They're so pretty and elegant and timeless. The other option would be something minimalist

I'm not a fan of big, gaudy rings or gems and jewels in general.

I love the idea of doing a boudoir shoot. Idk if I will but like

How pretty right? I think its so nice and I wanna do pretty bridal lingerie anyway.

I have lots of pins of like flower girl/ring bearer stuff but im not sure who will do that since my cousins might be a little old for that when I get married depending on when I find someone so we'll see what happens with that im very down for having like our dog do it

I'm still not set on bridesmaid dresses. A lot of the popular contemporary styles are a bit boring. I do think they should be long but im I also really like the more 50s inspired a-line tea length ones so I'm not sure. Would petticoats be too much? Would it make then too big? Maybe small ones. Its also gonna depend on my bridesmaids bodies and what they're comfy in.

Okay.

The dress.

If there is anything that I know

Its th dress.

Ya girl loves to be a princess

If there can be tulle, there will be tulle. I love a line and ballgowns. I think lace is really pretty and elegant.

I'm also a hug fan of illusion shoulders and sleeves with lace on them

Like this is just, this is like a dream dress.

I also love a bit of whimsy with some bigger parts like flowers or butterflies

The first time i saw the dress on the right I almost cried.

Also I love a corset/lace up back. It just looks better and gives you leeway in terms of size and fitting. My prom dress was a lace up back and that was a fantastic idea so I wanna find that in a wedding dress as well.

Okay thank you for letting me ramble so much fjfjdjdhdh

#cake anon #mon petit gâteau sucre #케이크 아논 #🍰 anon #ask game

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years

Text

From Paris, with Love

A/N #1: Part 7 of my Celestial Ball series is here! In this fic, we meet Alice’s french grandmother and learn a bit more about her family... Anyway, here are the other parts of the series: You’ve Got a Friend in Me | Distraction | Something There | One Step Closer | Fashion Emergency | Get Your Head in the Game | Der Walzer von Alice | Of Quidditch and Ballgowns (there’s a sketch of the dress at the end of that fic)

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

The Celestial Ball was fast approaching and Alice had yet to see her gown. Andre had taken her measurements a few days after they had selected the style, and she knew he was working on it, based on the plasters that were appearing on his fingers as the days went by. She also knew he had already made Charlie’s dress robes, as Charlie’s excitement was apparent during one of their dance rehearsals.

“You’ll see it on the day of the ball, but I’ll give you a hint so you can imagine how amazing it is: Dragons!” he had said as they waltzed with the other prefects.

Alice was pretty sure he was more excited about the dragon part of his robes than the robes themselves. Lost in those thoughts as she watched the first snow falling from a window in the common room, she didn’t hear Andre barging in and coming towards her.

“Alice!” he exclaimed, standing right next to her.

“What?!” she said, turning her head towards him, her eyes wide in shock.

“Your dress is ready!”

“Really? Can I see it?” asked Alice, excited.

“Well, of course. We need to choose your accessories!” said Andre as he dragged her out of the common room.

“Accessories? I don’t think I brought many with me… Unless you put some in my trunk without my knowledge…” replied Alice, looking at her friend suspiciously.

“No, of course, I didn’t. I didn’t know there was going to be a ball. No… I invited someone over to help us with that,” replied Andre, looking away.

“Invited someone here? At Hogwarts? Was Dumbledore okay with that?”

“Well, seems like they know each other, so yeah, he was fine with it,” he replied as they stopped in front of a door.

“Who the hell does Dumbledore know that could help with accessories?” asked Alice as she opened the door. The person she saw inside the room made her stop dead in her tracks.

That person was a tall and slender elderly woman with regal beauty. Her white hair was in a French twist, and she was wearing a navy Chanel skirt suit. When her piercing blue eyes met Alice’s green ones, a small smile appeared on her lips.

“Alice, ma chérie!” she said as she approached Alice before giving her two kisses on each cheek.

“Grand-maman?” said Alice, too startled to reciprocate the bise as she stared at Andre.

“Yeah, well, I wrote to your mother regarding pieces of jewelry to go with the dress, but the letter I got back was from your French grandmother…” started explaining Andre while fidgeting with his hands. “She told me she would come to Hogwarts with a selection of jewelry we could choose from.”

“Albus was so nice to let me come! He hasn’t changed at all! I will go have tea with him while you two choose what you need! But before I go, Alice, j’ai quelquechose pour toi,” said her grandmother as she opened up a little box. Inside was a tiara adorned with stars and celestial waves. Strings were attached to it to fasten it to the wearer’s head.

“Une tiare?” said Alice, slightly frowning.

“Oui, bon, ça peut l’être, but you can wear as a headband or at ze back of your head. I asked my… hum… how do you say ‘joaillier’… Jeweller! Yes, well, I asked him to make something versatile zat could be worn in different ways because my granddaughter does not like wearing classic tiaras.”

“Wait! You had this made especially for the occasion? It’s too much, I can’t…” started saying Alice before being interrupted by Andre.

“It will look amazing with the dress!” he exclaimed.

“Andre…” muttered Alice, trying to get him to calm down, in vain.

“I know! When I saw the sketches you had sent my daughter-in-law, I knew my favourite jeweller would be able to create something wonderful!”

“Sketches?” asked Alice, looking at Andre with a raised eyebrow. “Plural?”

“Yes, I also sent a sketch of the shoes I made,” explained Andre.

“Shoes? You made shoes?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Guess I forgot. Anyway, thank you so much Mrs. Beaumont!”

“Please, it was no problem at all! Now, I will leave you to it while I go see Albus,” she said, waving as she left the room.

“I can’t believe she knows Dumbledore… Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Alice as she stared at the now-closed doors.

“How come?” asked Andre as he started opening the jewelry cases.

“Well, Dumbledore knows a lot of people, and so does my grandmother,” said Alice turning toward the jewelry.

“Oh, Merlin!” exclaimed Andre as he looked, wide-eyed, upon all the glittering pieces of jewelry laid out in front of him.

“Honestly, that’s just showing off,” grumbled Alice as she looked on, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sure she just wants you to have as much to choose from,” said Andre, who was already covered in jewelry.

“Maybe, but she likes to remind people of who she is,” said Alice as she took a pair of very small crescent moon stud earrings covered with white pavé diamonds and set it aside.

“She likes people to know she’s a Beaumont?” asked Andre, admiring the rings on his fingers.

“Not exactly… The Beaumonts are a very reputable family in France, but…” she started saying, before pursing her lips. “Anyway,” she interrupted herself, “you haven’t shown me my dress or my shoes yet. How am I supposed to make a decision if I don’t see what I’m going to wear?”

“Oh! You’re right!” Andre said, getting up from the table he was sitting up. Pushing a screen to the side, he revealed the dress and the shoes.

“Oh, Andre! It’s simply gorgeous!” said Alice as she looked at the dress and shoes.

The sleeveless dress was covered in sparkles, except for the black shoulder straps. From the waist, it was a dark blue, and the blue got lighter as it got closer to the edge of the dress. From the waist up, the material was very thin, making the blue of it appear very light against the nude lining of the bodice. There was a little bit of tulle under the skirt to give it some volume, but not too much. The shoes were high-heeled sandals with butterfly wings at the back. They were in sparkling silver and navy blue, with a cross ankle strap and glittering stars.

“So… You like it?” asked Andre as Alice touched the skirt of her dress.

“Like it? I love it! It goes with the theme, but not in an ostentatious manner!” replied Alice.

“I’m so glad you like it,” said Andre, smiling. “Now, let’s go back to the jewelry and you can tell me everything about your grandmother.”

“Ugh… Do I have to?” asked Alice, making her way back to the jewelry case.

“Well, I’m intrigued. Such a stylish and regal woman, and it doesn’t have to do with the Beaumonts, but, I’m guessing, her side of the family,” said Andre, taking out a diamond bangle with moons and stars, and putting it with the earrings Alice had put aside.

Alice let out a sigh. “Fine… Before being Aurore Beaumont, she was born Aurore Valois, from the Capetian dynasty.”

“Is that supposed to ring a bell?” asked Andre, raising an eyebrow.

“Outside of France, probably not. In France, the Capetian dynasty is also known as the House of France. Starting with Hugues Capet, a King of France in the 10th century. All the Kings of France after that were his descendants. All the way down to Louis-Phillipe 1er. Technically, the Valois branch was considered extinct in 1589 and was succeeded by the Bourbons. But that’s on the Muggle side of the family. On the wizard branch, the Valois kept going. The first wizard of that line may not be entirely legitimate, but that didn’t seem to matter at the time. So they managed to maintain a certain level of influence in the wizarding world as well as in the Muggle world. In the Muggle world, they are seen as just vaguely being related to the House of France, but even that is enough to impress. France may be a Republic, but they do treat descendants of French noble families with deference,” explained Alice, looking at a necklace paved with diamonds in white gold. “Boucheron, of course,” she mumbled as she looked at the clasp, putting it with the earrings and the bracelet.

“Wow… That’s… detailed,” said Andre, staring at his friend.

“Yes, well, I have heard the story many times, and believe me, that was a summary. All this to say, my grandmother can be a bit of a showoff. She won’t say it, because it is just vulgar to do so, but she will make people feel how important she is.”

“Is that why you never told us? Because it’s vulgar?” asked Andre, smirking.

“What? Of course not. By now, you should know it’s not something I care about,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I kinda regret muttering about my grandmother. If I hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have asked anything, and you would be none the wiser.”

“Oh, even without your mumbling, I would’ve asked questions. Like, why is she wearing Muggle clothes? Why didn’t you tell me you had such a stylish grandma? Can I come with you next time you visit your French family?”

“Yeah… Figures. She wears Muggle clothes because she likes them. She personally knew Coco Chanel and Christian Dior. I didn’t tell you because, why would I? And I guess you can come with me next time I go to France, though I don’t see why,” answered Alice, smirking as she rolled her eyes. Andre could be so predictable sometimes, hence why seeing her grandmother had shocked her. She knew that Andre would be curious about her, would want to know more about her. It was better if he asked his questions in an empty classroom than in a room full of other people that might ask questions themselves. “Now that I’ve answered your questions, you have to promise me to not breathe a word about it. It’s bad enough that people stare at me because I’m the ‘Curse-Breaker,’ let’s not add ‘French Royalty’ to the mix. I definitely don’t want Charlie to act even more strangely around me.”

Andre stopped what he was doing and stared at her. Was she on the verge of realizing her feelings for Charlie Weasley?

“I mean, ever since he saw my house in London, he’s been acting strange, as if the fact my family is well-off disturbed him. I’m pretty sure that if he hadn’t seen my house, he would have asked me to the ball way sooner. We are friends and prefects, after all, so it was the logical thing to do, but took him so long to ask me, I was on the verge of doing it myself!” exclaimed Alice.

“So… You would have asked him to the ball if he hadn’t? You wouldn’t have asked someone else, like, say… Barnaby?” asked Andre, doing his best to hide his smile.

“Barnaby? Well, if Charlie had asked someone else, then I would have asked Barnaby, but he’s not a prefect, he doesn’t NEED someone to dance with. Charlie and I were in the same predicament, so it just made sense to go together.”

“Yeah, but if none of you were prefects, who would you have asked to the ball?” probed Andre.

“No one. I would just have gone to the ball with all my friends,” said Alice as she started to close the jewelry cases.

“Ugh… You are hopeless,” muttered Andre.

“What did you say?” asked Alice, closing the last jewelry case.

“Nothing, nothing…” replied Andre just as Alice’s grandmother entered the room.

“So, you have found everyzing zat you needed?” she asked, looking at the closed cases.

“Yes, thank you. Very nice of you to come all this way,” said Alice with a stiff smile plastered on her face.

“As I said, it was no problem at all. Gave me a chance to catch up with Albus. He told me very interesting zings about you,” her grandmother replied. With a flick of her wand, all the cases floated towards her open purse and got inside it.

“I can imagine…” grumbled Alice.

“I was also very happy to see you,” she said, kissing her granddaughter’s forehead. “You haven’t visited Paris nor Sarrians in a while. You should come next summer.”

“Sure…” replied Alice.

“Andre, it was a pleasure meeting you,” said Aurore, turning to the other Ravenclaw. “I’m sure you will be a great fashion designer one day.”

“Oh! Thanks, but I actually want to be a Quidditch player,” replied Andre proudly.

“Really?” replied the elderly lady as she looked back at the dress. “Quel gaspillage… Oh, well, I hope you enjoy the ball. Au revoir!”

After she had left, Alice started placing the jewelry they had chosen in a little velvet pouch until Andre suddenly realized something. “We forgot to choose a ring!”

“I have one,” said Alice, unperturbed as she tightened the strings of the little pouch.

“You picked one? I didn’t see it,” pointed out Andre, rubbing his chin.

“Already had it. A white gold eternity ring with blue coloured stones. Parents gave it to me after I was sorted into Ravenclaw,” explained Alice as they left the room.

“Are you sure it’s going to work with everything else?” asked Andre.

“It will,” replied Alice as they stood at the entrance of the Great Hall and could see their friends eating and happily chatting. “Now, remember what I told you. Not a word about my grandmother or her background to anyone, or your chance of ever coming to Paris with me will be null.”

“An empty threat. You didn’t look like you wanted to go visit your grandparents in France,” pointed out Andre.

“Well, maybe I’ll change my mind, especially if I know it’s something I can hold over your head,” said Alice, a sly smile appearing on her face as she made her way toward her friends.

“There are days when I think she should be in Slytherin…” mumbled Andre to himself before following her inside.

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

A/N #2: Hope you enjoyed. I was loosely inspired by the 2018 HPHM Fictober prompt “First Snow” (loosely as in “the story does not revolve around it, but that prompt led me to write this fic”). So the main fic of the series is approaching... Which means I’ll have to write a ball scene with dancing and everything. If anyone has tips on how to write a ball scene, let me know. (I may have looked at the various ball scenes in War & Peace...)

#hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery oc #jacob’s sibling #alice beaumont #andre egwu #aurore beaumont #charlie weasley x alice beaumont #hphm fictober #hphm #hogwarts mystery

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badassindistress · 2 years

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I'm picking up my silk gown again to make a third attempt at fixing the skirt. Sewing in front of a fire feels very right.

#a talia original #excerpts from my life #talia's adventures in dressmaking #sewing progress #sewing #blue green butterfly ballgown

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heistmaster69 · 4 years

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pariet lilium (5)

pariet lilium chapter five by @heistmaster69

warnings: a little self deprecation, blaise and theo making fools of themselves, otherwise none.

A/N: we are now in GOBLET OF FIRE1!!!11!!1!!!11! I have been waiting to get here, i wanted to start my story here but i thought i’d give some background before we get JUICY. enjoy loves!

a very nice and good and lovely 1.8k words

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four

gif by @basicamenteno

It was the same thing, every time. The same nightmare Frankie always had, ever since the second to last week of her second year. A third year boy, tall, with kind blue eyes, floppy brown hair and a smile that could give you butterflies. His name was Spencer, but everyone called him Spence. He was a Gryffindor, with strong shoulders and stronger bravery, playing as a Chaser on the team. Frankie met him in the Library, the sunset was shining through the windows-he looked like he was glowing.

“What are you reading?” Frankie looked up and her stomach fluttered.

“I-uh,” She laughed. “Um, it’s a book on the spiritual plane.”

“Advanced stuff for a second year.” He nodded towards the chair across from Frankie. “Can I sit here? The rest are full.”

“Hey!” She scoffed “I’m the same age as you, I just started late. My parents didn’t want me to be the youngest in the class, or something.”

“August birthday, huh? Still, spiritual stuff is fifth or sixth year-you’re an overachiever.” He smiled, sliding her copy of Magic and Spirits: A Guide across the table, looking into the page Frankie was reading.

“I’m Spencer.”

“Is it weird to say I know?” They shared a chuckle, before she added; “I’ve seen you play Quidditch, of course. I’m Frankie.”

“Is it weird to say I know too? You’ve thrown one too many bludgers at my face,” He slid the book back to her. “You’re good.” Spencer winked.

But after that, his smile gets distorted, twisted, sickeningly into a wicked grin. The butterflies, the fluttering, changes instantaneously into nausea. Heat rolls over Frankie, and she feels like she’s choking, not in the good way, either.

“Spence?” Her eyes were glossed over, sore.

“What is it, doll?” He leaned against the stone of the Hogwarts corridor.

“Spencer, are you messing with me?” Frankie couldn’t meet his eyes. “I heard you. I heard you talking to Cedric.”

“He’s my best friend, I talk to him every day.”

“Did you ask me to Hogsmeade on a dare?”

“I-what?”

“Don’t lie to me, Spencer, please, I heard you.”

“I’m sorry Reed, they told me to.” He didn’t even care, his eyes were cold, barely the smallest glint of remorse.

“I trusted you. I hope the galleon is worth it.”

August 31, 1994. 15 years ago today, Francesca Josephine Reed was brought into the world at St. Mungo’s hospital by her mother and her father. Since that day, the two ‘parents’ have been waiting to ship their only daughter to a wealthy, pureblooded heir to a notable family name and fortune. They cursed Francesca for being a girl and spent every waking hour ignoring her existence, wishing she would be 18 already so they could try for a son, free of any distractions. But of course, no one could know of their contempt for their daughter, so, yearly on the last day of August, the day before students return to Hogwarts, her parents throw Frankie a ‘party’, which is just an excuse to show everyone how well they raised their kid. Only, they didn’t raise Frankie. Kendra did.

Kendra, her tutor. Kendra, the kind woman with sad chestnut eyes that sparkled in the sun. Kendra, the one who taught Frankie everything she knew. Kendra, the one who acted like her mother when her birth mom pretended she didn’t exist. And Kendra is gone. Died in her sleep from Dragon Pox. The only family Frankie had, gone in her sleep, like she never existed. Her mother had insisted that Francesca was; “Better off without the blood traitor.” And Frankie had to bite her tongue, tasting metal and seeing red, while those who were supposed to love her most showed that they, truly, didn’t know her at all.

This ‘party’ was more like a stuffy ball for uptight pricks with wallets bigger than their brains. A ‘show and tell’, per say, for those who had surnames worth showing. Her parents got a chance to play dress up with their favorite doll, spewing distasteful comments about everything they didn’t find up to par.

“This should be flattering, I guess,” She started, laying out an emerald green gown with long, translucent bell sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It was gorgeous, but due to the way her mother had worded it, Frankie didn’t want to wear it. Yet, if Frankie refused, her mother would make her life hell. “Do you want to wear it?” As if I have a choice. If I say no, yikes.

“Yeah! Thanks.” Frankie ran her fingers over the soft fabric. A silk bodice with a flowing, sheer, skirt. She would look like a princess. “I’ll see you downstairs?”

Her mother was already out the door.

The clinking of champagne glasses and the sounds of hushed conversations echoed into Frankie’s room. She laid on the bed, hands intertwined, unwilling to go greet the guests downstairs.

“I feel like I’m watching a muggle movie. A princess sprawled across her bed just to look cool.” Frankie sat up, seeing Cher and her smiling dark eyes, wearing a golden satin gown, contoured to her body. “You look amazing. The only thing missing is your tiara.” She cocked her head and outstretched her arms. “I missed you, Frankster.”

“Cher, you whore, I missed you!” Frankie slid off the four poster bed and tripped into her friend’s arms. “You sexy beast, you get more gorgeous every time I see you-that includes when I blink.”

“Well I could say the same to you. The curves on you are unreal.” Cher poked Frankie’s hip. “But you know why I’m here. It’s because you’re not down there.”

“I know, I know. The longer I wait the more annoyed she gets. Every year.”

“Let’s go, Frankie. Happy Birthday!” Cher held out her arm and linked it through Frankie’s.

The estate had an exterior of brick, with white trims and pillars making it swallow the appearance of anyone approaching it. A tall fence encased in forest green hedges, locking the Reeds away, keeping them ‘safe’ from everyone and everything else. The interior was cold. Always cold. The long hallways and staircases were so dark. Wooden floors would creak below her footsteps and she was lonely. Always alone in the cold, dark house that felt too big and too small all the time.

But tonight? Tonight she wasn’t alone. The first day all summer that she saw her best friends. She felt the fog leave her head as she saw them one by one. Cher, next to her, Daphne at the bottom of the staircase, standing next to Pansy. Theo and Blaise talking to a pair of French girls in silver dresses, and Draco.

Oh, Draco. How could he get more attractive? Frankie had hoped the lack of contact over the summer would etch away her feelings, but they remained, ever as persistent.

His eyes lit up when he saw her, but they shifted quickly away from Frankie. Cher. She had to make sure her smile didn’t falter, so as to keep the perfect daughter facade from slipping.

“Happy B-Day, Frankster!” Pansy crushed Frankie in a hug as soon as they reached the ground. “We missed you, as usual.”

“I missed her more!” Daphne wrapped her arms around her in a more gentle way, giving her a tight hug that felt like home. “Theo and Blaise better pull themselves away from those girls soon, I give them fifteen seconds before they find out they’re dating.”

“I want some love. Where can I get something like that?” Cher whined.

Daphne placed a hand on her shoulder. “Baby don’t worry about it, you’ll get that.”

“Yeah, but at least in Wizarding France people can marry who they want. If only Bartemius Crouch Senior wasn’t a bigoted prick-”

“He’s on his way out anyway. His denial of You-Know-Who is going to give him the boot. We can just hope whoever comes in next will support us. If not, living in France it is.” The girls shared a sigh, looking over their shoulders to catch the end of Theo and Blaise’s conversation with the ladies, it appeared to have ended with an awkward handshake and a brisk walk away. Draco was caught up in a boring discussion with Torquil Travers and and a Carrow. Seemed to be very dull, as he kept sending glances towards the group of teens near the stairs. He was swirling a glass full of something dark, family ring adorning his hand.

“I feel really bad, you guys.” Theo said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were talking to them for like, ten minutes, I bet they think we’re creeps.”

“No, Theodore, the way that conversation was going, they probably thought we were dating.” Blaise wrapped an arm around Theo’s shoulder. “I don’t blame them. Sometimes I wish I could be in love with this sexy beast.”

Theo patted Blaise’s arm. “I feel the same way.”

“With that, my loves, I must go forth and mingle, or face the silent wrath of my mother. Happy birthday to me!” Frankie hugged Blaise and Theo, then moved throughout the room, having boring conversations about politics, how school is going, what profession she should choose, or just small talk to pass the time. She had an alright time, sipping chilled butterbeer and having quick, fun conversations with her friends in between long, drawn out ones with tired purebloods. Draco didn’t have the time to talk to Frankie.

After the party it was quiet. Quickly hugging her friends and returning to her room to check her trunks for her return to school. Frankie knew she didn’t foget anything, but she couldn’t seem to calm her mind enough to be tired. She also couldn’t unzip this dress to save her life, so she came to terms with the fact that Frankie would be sleeping in this elegant ballgown tonight.

Her room was her safe place, smelling like lemon and vanilla, with candles on her desk giving it a calm, orange glow. Plush pillows on a four-poster bed, silk sheets and a velvet throw. It was luxurious. Too luxurious. She sometimes felt like an impostor in her own home, undeserving of the riches her family name allowed her. Sitting on the edge, Frankie pulled her journal out from her pillowcase. She outstretched her arm and opened her hand, palm towards the ceiling.

“Pariet lilium.” It came out as a whisper, but immediately, deep red rose petals materialized from her palm, unfurling into a beautiful bud, then into a flower. Frankie could feel the satiny touch of the petals on her skin and watched as the stem emerged from the bottom of the flower. It was beautiful.

Frankie lifted the rose to her nose, inhaling the floral scent and beginning to relax from the long day.

She was just about to lie down when there was a knock on her bedroom door.

“Chess?”

TAGLIST I FORGOT PEOPLE LIKE MY WRITING OOF: @chaotic-good-gemini ily

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