1962 “Good morning,” she said. “Good morning, love,” Charles replied. It was Sunday, and Sunday meant sleeping in and laying around late into the afternoon. It was usually quiet on such days. A relief considering a bunch kids are running around blasting energy beams from their chest and screaming so they can fly. Every now and then Alex would be teasing Hank and Beast would appear to chase Alex throughout the mansion. It was all in good fun, at least for Alex anyways. Resting in white linens, Charles and his lovely girlfriend snuggled into one another, feeling at peace and pleased with the moment. Then a knock echoed throughout the bedroom followed by a bang. Charles huffed and begrudgingly left the bed. “It’s Shaw,” Erik growled. “Erik it’s Sunday, take a breath my friend.” Erik shook his head and marched into the bedroom, “this is important, Shaw’s out there. We can’t be acting lazy because it’s Sunday.” He stopped at the sight of (y/n) sitting in the bed, wearing a strappy white night gown. He blushed and looked away, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Charles scowled and patted him on the shoulder, “we’ll talk about this later.” He walked Erik out and calmly closed the door. Returning to the bed Charles found her giggling. “What?” “You’re jealous,” she observed. “I am not!” “Don’t worry, he’s only allowed to look.” Charles huffed again, “he’s too much sometimes. “He’s damaged and vengeful, can you blame him?” “No, no I can’t.” “Come back to bed,” she opened her arms. Charles crawled back into the king-sized bed and kissed her before wrapping his arms around her. They both fell asleep and stayed like so for the next few hours.
(Y/n) woke up to a loud noise followed by shouting. Quickly changing and fixing her hair she followed the muffled yelling to Charles’ office. Him and Erik were going at it again about Shaw, she assumed. Instead of stepping in a diffusing the argument, as she sometimes did, (y/n) shrugged it off and went to make a hot drink and breakfast, or lunch at this time of day. As she poured the hot beverage into a mug Erik came into the room fuming. She watched as Erik levitated as fork from the dining table and stabbed the wall on the other side of the kitchen. “I cleaned those last night, you know?” Erik’s ears pricked up and looked at her. His breath became shaky, simply staring at her anxiously. “Sorry…” “You apologize to me far too much,” she replied, sitting on the counter. “It seems I’m always invading your space.” “I don’t mind, as long as it’s not too close or in my bedroom.” You both chuckled. “Care for pancakes,” he asked. (Y/n) lifted her plate, “already got some food, but thanks.” Erik took a few steps towards her, hands behind his back, “I didn’t mean to intrude with you dressed so… immodestly.” “It’s very rare to see my collarbone, you should be honored,” (y/n) joked. “It was a pleasure,” he countered. “You could use some tea though,” she insisted,” I just bought some jasmine tea you may like.” “That would be lovely.” (Y/n) slid off the counter and took a new kettle from the cabinet. She handed him the jar of tea and he dug around looking for a bag. “They’re at the bottom, I think,” (y/n). Erik struggled to pull his hand from the small jar but succeeded with a teabag between is pointer finger and thumb. He gingerly gave the bag and she placed into the strainer. Closing the kettle’s lid (y/n) took a sip of her own drink and sat back on the counter, legs swigging back and forth. She noticed Erik staring at her legs, abruptly stopping causing his head to snap back up. She knew of his feelings for her and that if given the chance he’d sweep her off her feet to somewhere beautiful. (Y/n) herself had an adoration for him but not the same way, not when she was with Charles. Then again, she couldn’t deny a since a love for Erik as well. “You can sit, you know?” “I’d rather stand.” “Nonsense, sit with me,” she patted the granite. Erik plopped himself down next her, taking a sip to mask his squirming. The two sighed simultaneously and Erik looked at (y/n) and (y/n) looked back. They looked away from each other and sighed again. “I thought you’d be in bed still.” “You and Charles were fighting. I didn’t want to get involved this time.” “You heard.” “You have excellent projection.” “Charles thinks he knows best.” “You’re angry and he doesn’t want you doing something brash. I don’t want you to do something brash.” “It makes no difference.” (Y/n) twisted her face thinking of what to say next, her curiosity swirling. “Why Shaw?” “He’s the reason why I’m like this, a monster.” “How?” Erik hesitated but slowly peeled back his left sleeve. Upon his forearm was a list of numbers: 214782. (Y/n) quivered at the sight, placing her fingers on the strip of ink. “How long were you there?” “After the war ended I ran.” “No family.” “My mother died the day we got there,” Erik began to cry and leaned on her shoulder. She had never seen him this way, she couldn’t anyone has. She caressed his back as he fell apart in her arms. She stayed quiet and let him have his moment of grief. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. “I was fourteen,” he sniffled, “and he killed her right in front of me!” “I understand your want to take revenge but I don’t want you going after someone like this.” “I’m going to kill him and Charles won’t stop me.” “(Y/n)?” The two heard Charles’ voice ring down the hallway. (Y/n) left the counter and turned to Erik. “If you do go after Shaw, please be careful. Someone could get hurt.”
“Ow! Damn,” Hercules’ cry was a mere whisper considering you were still asleep and he would most probably get a lecture about being up so late and sewing a dress. But he couldn’t help himself ─ he was stuck with inspiration, and what better way to channel it than make another dress?
Specifically for you. All your measurements were glued to his brain, so with every practice piece he made, he had you in mind. And that was probably why you had so many dresses in your closet ─ midnight, dawn, any time of day you can name, inspiration.
And love. Can’t forget love.
He nibbled his lip, watching his fingers pull the thread through the needle and then the needle through the dress. He was so focused, he hadn’t even noticed you waking up, nor when you made your way downstairs and to the workshop. You pulled your robe tighter around your body with one hand while the other was rubbing the sleep out of your eye.
Leaning against the door frame, you watched your husband in adoration, admiring the way he worked with so much focus and precision. Never was a thread unintentionally placed, never loose, if it were his work.
After standing idle a few moments longer, you stepped past the barrier and behind Hercules. He stood up, just for a moment to admire his work, giving you the perfect opportunity to wrap your arms around his waist and rest your forehead between his shoulder blades. “Herc,” you spoke softly into his back, “you should come back to sleep.”
He smiled softly, though you could not see, and whispered, “I will, my love. I just need to fix this one thread.”
“I’ll just watch then.”
Backing away from the tailor, you let him finish his job of fixing the thread, then grabbed his hand and drug him back to your bedroom. His eyes had grown weary, heavy with sleep, halfway there, and his steps sluggish. By the time you were to the door, he was theoretically dead weight behind you, having fallen into a slight daze.
Opening the bedroom door, you went behind your husband and pushed him to the bed, being sure to close the door with your foot. When he flopped down, you pushed his shoulder and whispered in his ear until he finally found the energy to wake up. “Go get your night clothes on, dear.”
He looked confused for a second, still hazily asleep, before he truly registered what you’d said. “Mm,” he mumbled, “m’kay.” Pushing himself off the ever-so-comfortable mattress, he stepped to the bathroom. You discarded your robe, sleeping in nothing but your white night gown and undergarments, then got comfortable on your side of the bed.
Herc came out of the bathroom in shorts and no shirt ─ his usual, unique sleeping clothes ─ and flopped on the bed once more. Getting under the covers, he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist ─ like you had him ─ and pushed his face into the crook of your neck. A soft sigh escaped his lips before sleep began to overcome him, taking the big man into it’s welcoming kingdom graciously.
Though sleep wasn’t quite coming to you as easily, you were still on the verge of joining Hercules, and a whisper escaped your lips. “I love you, so much.”
“hEllo heLLO may I request for a prince!donghyuck au?? HAHAHA” -@donghyuckstudies
I am so sorry it took so long but it’s finally done
Warnings: Death of Villains, Blood, Violence
Plot: Your a princess with a fighting side, so when your at a party in Donghyuck’s castle and are under attack Donghyuck is very impressed with your ability to defend yourself.
Donghyuck was a unique prince. Who are we kidding he was a savage, roasting kid who would sass any gold seeking princess within a hundred mile radius. He couldn’t stand the princesses that would bat their eyelashes at him and compliment him for the sole purpose that he would become king someday. To make matters worse his parents keep setting up ‘events’ for princes to meet lovely princesses and fall madly in love, uggghhh. When events like this came around he just hang around with his crew at the corner of the room eating food and roasting each other and try to make his way through the waves of flirty princesses.
The best escape from this life was knight training, where him and the other 16 princes from nearby kingdoms trained with the best knights, to develop their skills in sword fighting, archery, knife combat and strategy. Each prince had different talents for example Kun, Jeno and Jaemin were all archers whilst Taeyong, Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark, Jisung, Yuta and Haechan himself were all particularly skilled in sword fighting.
At the big princess meeting events the kings and queens hosted the boys would sit around and talk about all the best strategies and who was best at what. Sometimes they would sneak out and just chill around the palace or practice their skills in the nighttime darkness.
He was excited to be a fair ruler of his kingdom and knew about all the responsibilities that the title of king would come with but he knew by the time he step up to the thrown he would be ready. The only part he was uninterested in was, of course finding himself a suitable wife.
Prince Taehyung is the only heir the throne in his kingdom and his mother, the queen has arranged for him to marry. Taehyung doesn’t want to become king or marry someone he doesn’t love. But when he runs away from home everything changes as his heart gets captured by a pink haired creature.
Angsty fluff || Mermaid AU || Words: 5.7K
Masterlist || Based on the story of “The little mermaid”
alone!” He yelled, running towards the terrace door.
Taehyung, it’s dangerous!”
care!” He yelled and ran through the doors, leaving the butler out of breath
ran down the stairs off the terrace and across the back yard of the huge
I can’t take this anymore! He thought as he ran through the
gate, reaching the pitch black sea front. Taehyung slowed down, panting lightly
as he began walking towards the cliffs by the beach.
He sat down
on one of them and threw his shoes down on to the sand next to him before
wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his forehead against his knees.
I don’t want to become king….
I want to be free, I want to play and being
king isn’t my destiny. I don’t care how royal my blood is.
in his head encouraged him to run away and escape, but he never made it beyond
Not today. Taehyung thought and jumped down from the
cliff, grabbing his shoes in one hand and started jogging along the beach.
Luna looked at the clock, it should have been about time for him to come home. She just kept reading in her bed for another couple of minutes, until she heard the door quietly shut. She straightened a bit but she didn’t stand up.
“Nyx? Is it you?”
“Yeah, just call my name like that, i’d be fun to hear what you would say if it was Ravus or Regis instead.” Luna smiled, watching him coming by after his usual guard duty of the day. Nyx looked clearly tired, but he was smiling too. He still had on his kingsglaive outfit, just with no jacket, which was in his hands. Seeing him in such an informal way had become a very pleasing habit in the last months. Their eyes playfully met for just one second, before he turned to delicately close the door behind him.
“Hi” Nyx said, getting closer and leaning down for a kiss. It was not really a passionate kiss, but certainly a kiss of relief. He was so glad that long day was finally over. “How are you?”
“Good.” His smile turned into a grimace.
“That’s not true but we’ll talk about it after I’ll take a shower. Coming right back.”
He knew where to go and what to look for, so he made himself at home. Which kinda was.
In the meantime, Luna stood up to prepare a tea for herself and to get a beer for him. She didn’t have to wait long, because he finished the shower pretty soon, just like he promised.
“So, how are you again?” he asked, coming closer with barely his trousers on and a towel around his neck. He sat on the bed, where she sat too.
“I’m fine. I’m just bored. All I did was waiting for you the all day.” He opened his mouth to say something but she immediately stop him, raising her hand: “And before you say it, yes, you were worth the wait, but this doesn’t change the fact that I’m bored. I need to find something to do as long as my duty as Oracle and Princess is suspended. That used to be my full time job and I miss it a bit since i came here in Insomnia.”
“Yeah, can’t wait to go back to you risking your life every fricking second of your day and to me desperately trying to make you reconsider your priorities.” Luna smiled, pinching his arm. Nyx tried to avoid it but he didn’t succeed. He took her hands in his instead: they were cold. That didn’t surprise him since she was barely covered by her white night gown, but he moved anyway until he touched Luna’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Are you cold?”
“No, you’re hot.” Nyx couldn’t help but facepalm.
“That was bad, really” he said, trying to hide a laugh. “Why are you even trying to flirt with me?”
“I’m not flirting with you. I hope I don’t need it. You’re my husband already.”
Your small bare feet carried you away from your little house that you shared with your mother, father, and two brothers. Your brothers were fifteen, and eleven. Then there was you- the small eight year old that hadn’t been wanted. It was no secret that if you had been a boy, things would have been fine. In your family, boys were cherished, revered. Girls, not so much.
That led you to sneaking out of your room, your long Y/H/C braid hanging down your back, in your white night gown. There was a nip to the air, but that didn’t bother you any.
In the hallway, Sam healed himself, five slender scars ran around his forearm. He was proud of these scars. Sitting cross-legged, three inches next to the door, he held baby Connellie. She was so cute and pudgy. Sam poked her cheek. She was a squish.
“You’ll really like Aunt Asterin as your mom, Connellie. She is the best person in the world. She will love you and cherish you and your sister.”
With Connellie’s hand in his, he used his fae hearing to listen to what was happening inside.
“I name you Samaentha. You are named after a fierce young male who didn’t shy away from my scars …”
At the testament, tears spilled from his eyes. Of course he didn’t run from her scars. It was like his mother said. Everyone has scars.
His aunt.. She loved him. He loved her. She was as much as an aunt to him as the queen was his mother.
“What are you doing up so late, Lyira?” Gavriel asked.
“Because you overgrown house cat, my twin senses are tingling.” Lyria said, pirouetting in her white night gown, long siver knotted hair flinging out behind her, “Sam needs me.”
Gavriel smiled, escorting Lyria to her twin and Asterin’s rooms. The young princess was a living snowstorm. Wild and bound to nothing but her honor, her twin, and her crown.
Looking up, Sam saw his twin twirl down the hallway with an amused Gavriel following her.
There is something about them, he thought. They have a bond of some kind. Much like me and Ciel.
“Tell Sam he can come in. And Lyira,” Asterin said, holding Samaentha close to her chest, “I’d bet good coin she’s made her way down to her twin by now.”
Coming into the room, Lyria, bedhead and all, said, “And you’d win that bet!”
Coming in behind her, Sam gave Connellie to Fenrys and made his way up to Asterin. His turquoise eyes solemn and swimming.
“Thank you, Aunt Asterin. I will try to live up to being the namesake that you and Samaentha deserve.” he hung his head, blonde hair falling past his shoulders.
Asterin smiled and handed Samaentha to Manon, pulling Sam into a fierce hug.
“You already live up to it, Sam. Just by being my friend.”
( This is gonna be a few parts. Some longer then others. Im already on like page 8 in the doc. I thank @veitstanz for working this out with me it was great fun to plan. Hopefully I can get part 2 up tomorrow before work we’ll see!
Basically one full moon night Gas’s daughter sneaks out to join him and Djura. He takes note of her drawings of his beastly form and begins to question the creatures appearance himself. )
Everything hurt. Her entire body was throbbing with horrendous pain. The ten hour old infant was screaming in her arms, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t.
So she kept running.
She couldn’t remember how long it had been. Maybe an hour.
She felt sick, felt faint, but her adrenaline, her need to get this little beautiful baby boy away from that monster spurred her on.
She was thin. Too thin, dressed in a thin white night gown that hid nothing through its sheer fabric and bare feet. She carried only a bad with baby clothes and a few little toys she had managed to get him. There were bruises on her throat, a blacked and swollen eye. Her body was littered the scars and bumps and bruises.
She didn’t know what her life would be now. But she kept running anyway. That’s all she could do now. @layathedarkone
“Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” Staging
WHO LIVES, WHO DIES, WHO TELLS YOUR STORY: So it starts with Washington coming out into center stage in his white and cream story teller outfit and singing his line about “No control”. Jefferson is standing at the top of the stage right staircase and Burr is down on the floor and is looking up at him when he says “President Jefferson” and continues to watch him as he says his line about Hamilton’s financial system. The Burr crosses to the other side of the stage and looks at Madison, who is standing downstage left, when he says “President Madison” and continues to watch as Madison talks about “all the credit he gave us.” (Side note, Jefferson and Madison are wearing their purple and grey coats respectively over top of their white and cream story teller costume.) Angelica comes straight down center (she is wearing a light pink dress with kind of an over dress thing that resembles her earlier costumes) on “every other founding father’s story gets told. While she is saying her line, Washington and Peggy (who is wearing a white night gown type dress) help Madison and Jefferson into their white coats so that now both of them are in their full story teller costume. Burr has moved to stage left and on "But when you’re gone who remembers your name” he and the ensemble and the revolutionaries circle around downstage and form 3 diagonal lines going from upstage right to downstage left. On the last “tell your story” with the pretty chord, two of the ensemble girls are lifted into the air and land as Eliza enters, and they all look at her on “Eliza.” She is wearing a light blue dress which I believe is the same as the one she wears in Burn, it kind of looks like a night gown. She crosses center on “I like another 50 years” and when she talks about interviewing the soldiers who fought by Alexanders side, Daveed, Oak, and Anthony form a small triangle behind her on “She tells our story”. She crosses stage left on “You really do write like you’re running out of time and stands facing Angelica with a little bit of distance between them. They stand and sing looking at each other, its very sweet, Eliza actually really smiles for the first time when she talks about them telling the story together. Angelica turns downstage when Eliza says where she is buried and Eliza counters upstage a little bit. Eliza does a small circle that lands her a little off center on "I ask myself what would you do”, she looks like she’s pacing and trying to think of what to do. Washington comes behind her and smiles on “she tells my story”. She comes downstage on “Have I done enough, will they tell your story.” On “can I show you what I’m proudest of” she looks around a little and clasps her hands nervously, she looks down at her hands when she talks about the orphanage, very contemplative and tentative. She looks up confidently on “I get to see them growing up” and spreads her arms and looks up on “In their eyes I see you, Alexander” like she is searching the air for him. On “Have I done enough, will they tell my story” the ensemble closes in behind her and then spreads out upstage on “I can’t wait to see you again” revealing Hamilton standing in the spot she first entered for the song. On the time of “It’s only a matter of time” Hamilton starts walking down towards her, he looks at her briefly and then looks away as he continues walking but Eliza senses him almost and she turns around looking and they end up standing parallel to each other facing upstage and then they look to the side and see each other. They walk upstage and meet in the center and Hamilton offers Eliza his hand which she takes and he holds it with both of his hands and she smiles this beautiful smile at him (chills) and you just know she’s completely in love with him. He walks her downstage on the final ‘Who lives who dies" and gives her away and she comes all the way downstage center into a small wash of light where she gasps and the lights fade out on “Story”. Also, in the bows Phillipa and Lin walk off hugging each other.