You finished applying your green lipstick and smiled at your reflection when you were done. It was Halloween night and Montgomery De La Cruz was throwing one of the biggest parties of the year. You had decided to go as an alien, throwing your hair into a high ponytail to complement your antenna headband.
By the time you got to Montgomery’s house, you could hear the music from down the road. You had come with a few of your friends from the dance team and lost them immediately as you stepped in. Lost in the wave of what seemed like the whole school, you passed a cat, a vampire, a kid from your English class in a banana suit, and quite a few slutty nurses. When you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink, you ran into some of the jocks.
“Y/N! You made it!”, you turned to see a slightly intoxicated Monty, smiling brightly at you.
He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a tight hug. You and Monty were pretty good friends, you kept him out of trouble when you could and when you couldn’t, you lied to the athletic trainers at school so they could give you ice, which you then gave to Monty for his knuckles.
“Yeah I did!” you mumble into him.
He lets you go and starts work on pouring you a drink.
“Are you going to grace us with your dance moves tonight?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he passes you a solo cup.
You laugh briefly, you were known to frequent the middle of a circle at parties, but more notably, if you were too drunk, you were known to dance on tables until someone would pull you off.
“Yeah, maybe after a few of these” you answered cheekily as you took a sip.
He laughed, nodding along as you two talked for a while. Three drinks later you were interrupted by Sherri who was pulling at your wrist.
“This is your SONG!” she squealed.
You raised your cup to Montgomery who looked very amused before you placed it on the kitchen counter.
He yelled a quick, “Don’t break my tables!”, as you left his sight.
You laughed and looked back at him to yell back ‘No promises’ but instead, your gaze was met by Jeff Atkins who took your place near the hot head.
Despite the fact that you had both went to the majority of parties thrown and shared a mutual friend in Montgomery, you and the baseball player had surprisingly never crossed paths before. Of course you knew of him, not only was he Monty’s best friend, he was the Jeff Atkins.
Before you could react, you were pulled into the throng of sweaty teenagers and you forgot all about the baseball player as the music took control.
The group of students formed into a circle around you and Sheri left your wrist as she stood with them. You shook your head, over dramatically rolling your eyes as you tried to get out of the circle. To no avail, Sheri and the girls from the dance team pushed you back in. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and glanced around the group of students now cheering your name to get you started.
Right before you decided to go along to the beat of Ciara’s ‘1,2 Step’ you caught a glance of Jeff standing right at the edge of the circle. You winked at him before beginning, your years of hip hop classes making use of itself as Missy Elliot’s verse started.
You decided to call it a day after she finished rapping, moving to leave and let someone else take your place.
You were hot from dancing, and let your hair down as you made your way outside, where it was much quieter.
“Y/N!” someone called out.
You stopped and turned to see Jeff making his way over to you, smiling when he reached you.
“That was awesome! I didn’t know you were such a good dancer.”
You exhaled a ‘ha’ through your nose, amused by his compliment.
“Thanks, I mean I would hope so…I am captain of the dance team” you answered.
He laughed, shaking his head.
“Yeah… Monty told me.”
“Monty told you?” you questioned.
“Mhm, I asked him who the cute alien girl he was talking to was and he told me everything.”
You smiled at his subtle attempt at flirting with you.
“Cute alien girl huh?” you prompted.
He dropped his head for a moment.
“Very. Cute alien girl.” he corrected himself, poking one of the antennae on your head.
You cheesed at him, removing the headband from your head and taking the baseball cap off of his, offering to switch. He chuckled, going along with you as he placed the antennae on himself.
“Now we’re both cute aliens” you assure him, placing the cap on your head.
His mouth opened slightly but he was lost for words. You checked him out quickly when you had the opportunity.
“So what were you supposed to be? A baseball player?” you say in an attempt to keep the conversation going.
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, the guys thought it would be cool to do a Sandlot sort of thing. I guess it’s kind of st-”
“Oh my god, you’re Benny!” you interrupted him.
He looked back up at you, surprised you knew the movie.
“You watched Sandlot?” he questioned.
“Are you kidding me? Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez was my first love!”
The tips of Jeff’s ears turned red as he nodded, silently urging you to elaborate.
“Fourth grade me used to pray that he would be my first kiss, god, it was so embarrassing!” you continued.
Now it was your turn to blush cause the way Jeff was looking at you made you weak in the knees.
“I feel like that could be arranged” he offered.
You were impressed by his confidence and mustered up some of your own.
“It wouldn’t be my first kiss, but-”
“It would be your best though.” He smirked when you looked at him, clearly flustered.
“That’s a bold statement there Atkins” you challenged.
You could feel the tension between the two of you building as he moved closer to you.
He smirked as he readjusted his cap to go backward on your head, nodding along with you.
“I stand by my statement.”
Your breath hitched and you bit your lip again. His hand met your chin and his thumb pulled your bottom lip out from between your teeth. He glanced back to your eyes, asking for permission.
You just barely nodded as your eyes shut and Jeff’s lips met yours. His lips were soft and the alcohol only enhanced the butterflies in your stomach. He was right, it was the best kiss you had ever had.
He pulled away, moving both of his hands down to your waist.
“And?” he asked, licking his lips.
“Mmmm I don’t think so Atkins” you answered cheekily.
He laughed before kissing you again, this time more passionately. His hands tightened at your hips as he moved the both of you. Your arms found their way to wrapping around his neck as your back hit the wall of the house. His tongue teased at your lips and you opened your mouth immediately. He tasted like cheap beer and you were sure you did too, but fuck. This was everything.
When he pulled away, you were breathless. Your head hit his chest as you giggled, nodding slightly.
Prompt: You’re a work-for-hire girl - for the criminals and criminally rich. Your job is to threaten, steal from, frighten or hurt whoever you’ve been employed to - but your newest job involves a person you swore you’d never talk to again. Someone who brought you into this entire business - and tried to get you out. Someone who, should you accept this challenge, would open a Pandora’s box of disaster…(1 /2 /3 /4 /5 /6) Scenario: AU, angst, miniseries Word Count: 3,560
Sorry for the long wait you guys. I wrote this chapter while eating grilled cheese sandwiches and a cup of sweet tea lmaoo. As always don’t be shy to send me feedback and I need 100 notes for the next chapter, but I’m sure you know this by now.
The first thing you felt when you woke up was pain. Excruciating pounding in your head to be exact. Just the slightest movement made it worse and you silently vowed to never drink again, although you knew for a fact you were lying. You got a whiff of the scent of waffles and shot up, rushing to the bathroom to empty your stomach from the alcohol and the small bit of food you consumed the night before. God, did you feel awful.
You flushed the toilet and sat on the cool tile floors for a moment, deciding on whether you were strong enough to stand or not. It was then you realized that you were staring into Calum’s room after noticing the messiness and his navy blue and grey duvet hanging halfway on the floor. You stood up and grabbed your spare toothbrush to clean away the horrendous taste that was left in your mouth. After you splashed your face with cold water a couple of times, you decided to go find Calum. It had to be at least eleven or twelve, because usually Calum would still be asleep beside you when you woke up.
You brushed at your teeth vigorously, letting toothpaste drip from either side of your mouth as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was pushed back with an animal themed headband and a thick face mask sat atop your skin, eradicating any black heads that had managed to nest in your pores since the last face washing. You hummed to yourself as you brushed, turning up the sound of your music as you bounced around in front of the mirror.
After another minty filled solo, you spit into the sink for the dozenth time and finally began to rinse. You grabbed the mouthwash, beginning to gargle, when a loud noise caught you off guard. For a moment, you thought you were dying. The mouthwash had begun to slide down your throat at the appearance of the surprising sound. You immediately launched forward, spluttering into the porcelain, and looked up to your reflection with wide eyes.
“What the hell?” you whispered, wincing and straining your ears in an attempt to focus. Another loud bang, followed by a crashing of what sounded to be a clay pot radiated from your bedroom and down the hall.
“Maybe it’s the cat,” you hummed to yourself, biting you lip. Your eyes quickly swept the room, eying anything that could be used as a weapon. You tentatively picked up the plunger, eying it with hesitation. “Well…this should be okay.”
You slowly approached the door of the bathroom and peaked out into the hallway. Your window was indeed open and there did seem to be someone attempting to get into it. You noted the broken potted plants scattered across the hardwood floor, dislodged from their place on your window sill. You jumped back into the bathroom, pressing yourself flat against the door.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed. You immediately reached for your phone, your fingers pounding the emergency number. Just as your thumb hovered over the launch call button, you heard a gasp from your bedroom.
“LAAaaarrrry!” the voice hiccuped, deep and slurred. You shook your head, peaking around the corner again to see your next door neighbor, Choi Youngjae, pulling himself face first through the window and toward your cat.
“Youngjae?” you whispered, the plunger plopping at your feet as you rounded the corner and moved toward your room. “What the hell?”
Youngjae looked up at you with wide eyes as he slid the rest of the way through your window and landed with a thud. “Y/N…what are you doing in my apartment?”
You stood still for a moment, blinking slowly as you tried to process the situation. “What am I doing in…your apartment?” You looked around slowly, noting your bed, your desk, and your cat.
“And what is Larrrrry doing in my apartment?” he hiccuped, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. You nodded in sudden understanding.
He was drunk.
Youngjae pulled himself up, yanked off his shoes, and reached out with wobbly arms to Larry, who up until this point seemed fairly disinterested in the scene before him. You watched in shock as Youngjae sat shoeless in the middle of broken pots and discarded plants, cooing at your cat. His hair was disheveled, hanging in his eyes in pointed tendrils. There were dark circles beneath his usually bright eyes and he hiccuped as he spoke. His clothes hung loosely from his body, having given up their attempt to properly sit on the boy’s frame.
“Are you drunk?” you asked cautiously, coming closer to the young man before you. “You realize your apartment is next door right?”
“I’m not drunk,” Youngjae giggled, continuing to reach out for Larry.
“Youngjae,” you clucked, shaking your head and crouching down to be eye level with him. “You should learn to lie better.”
“I’m…I’m only a little tipsy. That’s what Mark told me to say if Jinyoung-hyung caught us. Is he here too?” he said, his eyes wide as he looked around the room.
“Why would Jinyoung be in my apartment?” you questioned.
“Because he’s waiting up for us!” Youngjae gasped as if the answer were obvious. “Jinyoung said that we could only go out if Mark took care of me and BamBam…but Bam drank one bottle of soju and Jackson had to take him home because he fell asleep on the pool table.”
You sighed, rubbing your temples and suddenly realized you still had your blackhead mask on. “Hold on a second.”
You shuffled back to the bathroom, peeled the mask from your skin, and rubbed a light lotion over the now irritated flesh. You tugged the headband from your hair and shook it out, reassessing yourself in the mirror. This would have to do for now.
You left the bathroom again, rejoining Youngjae as he had finally gotten ahold of the now complaining Larry. His hands ran softly over the cat’s fur, quietly whispering to the animal in what sounded like broken English.
“What are you saying?” you groaned, plopping down in front of him again.
“I’m talking to him in English, because that’s your first language,” Youngjae whispered without looking up. “I’m better at English when I’m drunk.” He immediately looked up with wide eyes again. “But uh..I’m not drunk, only tipsy. Please don’t tell JInyoung.”
You chuckled, nodding at him as he glanced up with pleading eyes. The helpless expression quickly turned to confusion before he pressed his fingertips lightly to your cheek. “Where did your lizard skin go?” he whispered innocently.
“Ex…excuse me?” you choked, pulling your face away from Youngjae’s hand.
“The little flaky black stuff that was just on your face,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “It’s all gone!”
“That was a face mask for blackheads,” you grumbled, shaking your head as you stood. You looked down at him and set your hands on your hips. “At night before bed I-” you shook your head again, realizing there was no reason in a situation like this. “We need to get you home.”
“YOUR home Youngjae, not the incorrect window,” you sighed. You leaned over, gripping Youngjae beneath the arms as you attempted to lift him up, but he completely went limp. He had become a wiggling bundle of ramen in your arms.
“That tickles!” he gasped, flopping around until you released him back to the floor. The noise frightened Larry, causing him to take shelter beneath the bed. The disappearance of the cat caused Youngjae to groan, lean backward, and slam against the floor.
“Ow,” he groaned, rubbing a hand underneath the back of his head. He looked up at you and sighed. “I like you with this skin more. You’re very pretty as a human, Y/N.”
You looked around the room quickly, confirming that you were the only one in it actually named Y/N.
“I - uh…thanks?” you stuttered. This whole situation was like a bizarre dream you wished you could wake up from.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered, his lids heavy as he continued to lay on the floor.
“How much did you have to drink, Youngjae?” you sighed, crossing your arms. You were unsure of how to act at this point and figured maybe if you could receive a bit more context to the situation, you could reach a decision on what to do.
“Four…five…” he began, but trailed as he looked at his fingers hovering before his face.
“Five beers?” you asked, tilting your head. You had been drinking with the Got7 boys on only a few occasions, a friendly outing between neighbors. You knew Youngjae preferred beer to soju, so surely he couldn’t have drank that much.
“Five pitchers,” Youngjae nodded, letting out a burp that nearly turned into vomit.
You groaned, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling. “I’m going to get you a piece of bread and some coffee. Then I’ll get you back to your apartment.”
“But that was my window,” Youngjae whined, pointing up to your window sill from his laying position.
“Okay Youngjae,” you sighed, dragging yourself from the room.
After a quick attempt at instant coffee and some toast with jam, you returned to your bedroom to find Youngjae passed out and still on the floor. A light snoring had begun to escape from his handsome lips.
“Of course,” you sighed, shaking your head. You bit your lip as you looked down to Larry who had once again emerged to more closely survey Youngjae’s snores. “What do you think Larry? Should we let him sleep it off?”
Larry looked up at you, then back to Youngjae. He proceeded to lick his chops before sauntering away and hopping onto your bed.
“I think so too.”
Your knock was heavy on the door to the apartment housing Got6. After a few rounds of heavy banging, you finally heard shuffling on the opposite side of the wood. The door sprang open, revealing a sleepy and haphazardly dressed Jinyoung, completely unamused.
“Not to be rude,” Jinyoung sighed, rubbing a palm over his tired eyes. “But do you have any idea what time it is?”
“I believe I have something that belongs to you,” you muttered, motioning for Jinyoung to follow you.
“What does that mean? It couldn’t have waited until morning?” Jinyoung croaked, pulling his door closed behind him as he followed you down the hall. “I know we’re neighbors, but are we really close enough for you to be inviting me into your home at strange hours?”
“I don’t know. Are we close enough for Youngjae to come through my window at strange hours?” you sighed, entering your apartment, and motioning to the end of the hall where you could both very vividly see a snoring Youngjae, now drooling on the floor.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” JInyoung muttered, pressing his fingers against his temple and beginning to rub. “I told them, if they were going to drink, don’t wake me up. I didn’t expect for them to end up going through the wrong window again. How many of them are here?”
“Alright, first of all,” you said, your eyebrows furrowed as your mind quickly became lost in thought. “Again? This has happened before? With more of them than just Youngjae?”
“BamBam and Yugyeom ended up in the elderly couple’s apartment on the opposite side of us a couple of months ago,” Jinyoung sighed. “Cleaning up Yugyeom’s vomit while constantly apologizing to a woman my grandmother’s age was not the ideal way to spend an evening.”
“And Youngjae?” you asked, lifting your brows.
“He’s usually a very happy or a very emotional drunk,” Jinyoung nodded. “I can usually find him sobbing on the doorstep before three a.m. I guess he thought he was going to try and be sneaky like his other stupid members and take the window. The only ones who can ever figure it out are Jaebum and Mark…I don’t know why the others even bother.”
You let out a chuckle, shaking your head as Larry began to kneed on Youngjae’s chest. “Let’s get him back home.”
Jinyoung nodded, taking short steps down the hall in his slippers, and immediately leaned over to grip Youngjae.
“Yah!” Youngjae gasped, launching awake and pushing away from Jinyoung. He blinked slowly, trying to focus on the older member while simultaneously trying to wake up. “JIn…jinyoung hyung?”
“Jinyoung hyung,” Jinyoung nodded solemnly. “Youngjae, do you know where you are?”
Youngjae looked around slowly, making eye contact with you before surveying the room around him. “Um…not where I’m supposed to be?”
“Very good,” Jinyoung nodded, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “And where are you supposed to be?”
“At…at our dorm,” Youngjae whispered, looking down. His cheeks were bright red with embaressment. As he looked up again, tear marks stained his cheeks.
“Aish, it’s okay,” Jinyoung sighed, placing a firm hand on Youngjae’s shoulder. He patted the boy lightly. “Don’t cry, I know you’re tired.”
“I’m…I’m not drunk,” Youngjae said begrudgingly through sobs. “Mark hyung said I’m not drunk. I’m tipsy.”
“Of course you are buddy,” Jinyoung nodded, leading Youngjae from your room. He turned, smiling sadly to you before speaking again. “We’ll be by tomorrow to clean up and repot your plants…thanks for not calling the police.”
“The police are coming?” Youngjae gasped, spinning to look at you. “Is it because someone broke your plants?”
“’Someone’ would be you,” Jinyoung nodded. “And no, because ‘someone’ broke into her home.”
Youngjae gasped, bringing his hand to his mouth. “We have to protect Larry.”
“Larry has claws, he can protect himself,” Jinyoung cooed, continuing to make forward motion out of your apartment. “We’ll see you tomorrow Y/N. Youngjae, tell Y/N you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” Youngjae repeated with little interest. “And I’ll keep your secret.”
JInyoung furrowed his brows as he looked between the two of you. You shrugged, just as confused as he was at Youngjae’s statement. “Secret?”
“She’s actually a lizard woman,” Youngjae nodded seriously. “But I told her how pretty she is as a human, so that took care of that.”
Jinyoung rolled his eyes, opened your front door, and shoved Youngjae out. “Thank you and goodnight.”
1) favorite village 2) favorite kage 3) which villain would you most like to fight 4) favorite chunin exam fight 5) how would you have cheated during the chunin exams 6) byakugan, sharingan, or rinnegan 7) which battle was your favorite 8) favorite female ninja’s outfit 9) favorite male ninja’s outfit 10) favorite ninja’s hair 11) how would you wear your headband 12) what would your ninjutsu be 13) what ninjas would you want as your teammates 14) which opening is your favorite 15) which closing is your favorite 16) how long have you been into naruto 17) do you mostly watch or read naruto 18) favorite character 19) least favorite character 20) do you own any naruto merch 21) in the akatsuki what color would you paint your nails 22) who would you want your partner to be in the akatsuki 23) have you ever played any of the naruto video games 24) weapon of choice 25) favorite clan 26) favorite uchiha 27) what animal would you summon 28) favorite filler episode 29) favorite arc 30) otp 31) brotp 32) favorite non-human character 33) favorite bijuu 34) favorite jinchuriki 35) what ninja occupation would you choose
WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU PART 18 Full Translation
After the ceremony, a banquet was held, a reservation was made at Renji’s favourite bar and eatery, ‘Daruma Bar’, not far from the Kuchiki clan’s ceremonial shrine.
Based on reflection of what had happened last time, this time it was Renji who decided to conduct the arrangements for the restaurant, but complaints arose from Rangiku immediately, “if only you had left it up to Kuchiki, we might have been able to drink at a high class ryotei restaurant again~!”
“High class restaurant? what do you mean, lieutenant!?”
When the 13th division’s third seat, Kotsubaki Sentaro pressed Rukia for a reply, he received a shoulder tackle from Kiyone who interrupted the conversation.
Summary: Y/N was once an employee at Prince Adams castle along with being his childhood friend but she doesn’t remember. Caught up in the curse, she ends up in Villeneuve where she stands out. But circumstances arrive and she somehow returns to the place she once called home, and a beast she once thought a friend. A multi-chapter fanfiction.
Authors Note: This is my first ever fanfiction. Please tell me where I can improve (in a nice way) and I hope you enjoy. I will try and update every week. Also REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Anything to distract me from exams.
Chapter 1: Prologue You were walking, well more realistically sprinting, up the servant’s stairwell, avoiding several maids holding trays of several different types of alcoholic beverages. You had successfully avoided at least ten maids before you went crashing into one head first, involving several orange drinks falling on you, leaving you soaking wet and your white top now spotted orange. The maid simply looked at you in disgust before deliberately pushing you into the wall whilst she quickly picked up the shattered glass. This in turn caused a pile up of at least five maids and they all looked at you with disapproving looks. You were used to them at this point. Most of the maids despised you due to your outward appearance. Mrs Potts had told you on several occasions that you were beautiful and many of the maids envied you for it (that and your supposed strange taste in fashion, but you couldn’t help it if pants were far more practical than skirts). You, had never thought of yourself as beautiful. You were just you, plain and simple and that’s how you liked it. There was also the factor that you actually enjoyed reading. Many of the maids thought it a useless skill but you loved the places a book could take you. You’d visited the great sands of Africa and the jungles of Peru but your favourite place to visit was Verona in Italy. It made you feel at home away from the real world. Back when the Prince’s mother was alive you’d sneak into the library and sit behind the curtains and get lost for several hours before your father found you. Those times don’t occur anymore. You’d been found by the Prince’s father, and the bruises stayed on you for several weeks.
You shook your head to rid yourself of the memory. The group of maids bar one had hurried down the stairs. You looked up to see that it was Plumette who remained. You breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was she the head maid but she was basically an older sister to you, just like you were to Chip. She looked at you eyebrows raised “Would you care to explain what happened Y/N, or do I not want to know?” she said whilst gesturing to your shirt with her feather duster. You lifted up your tool box before saying “Lord Dustin’s daughter’s clockwork doll has broken.” She looked at you, eyes wide (she knew how difficult she could be) before giving you a small nod and rushing down the steps to return to help prepping for the ball that was to take place in two hours. Ugh, the ball. Another stupid dance where the Prince could show of how rich he was.
You were so deep into your thoughts that you hadn’t realised you were now walking along the corridor of the palace where actual lords and ladies could see you. You gripped your toolbox tighter whilst avoiding eye contact with any of the noblewomen that came past. You could hear behind closed doors several young women fussing about their looks clearly trying to impress the Prince. “Why? He’s nothing special.” You whispered aloud, a scowl etched upon your face. “Ahoy there sailor. What’s got you under the weather?” You turned to see your father hurrying up behind you whilst gripping dearly onto an easel, canvas and his bag full of paints and brushes. “Oh it’s nothing Papa,” you say with a smile, “just a broken doll of the pickiest guest.” He winces, “Lord Dustin’s daughter?” “Yup. It’ll be my first with her, and her reputation makes me nervous.” He pats you on the head, “Don’t worry, you’re the best tinkerer I know, she’ll be lucky to have you repair anything of hers.” You blush and look down at your feet before looking up at him again, a puzzled expression on your face, “Where are you off to now? I didn’t know you had a new piece to work on.” “Well I didn’t, until two hours ago.” He lets out a deep sigh, “The Prince has commissioned a piece depicting the ball tonight.” “Oh,” you let out almost accidentally but you can’t hide your disappointment. You were looking forward to having a few moments with your father tonight while the rest of the castle were occupied. “Don’t worry I’ll try and be finished before dawn.” He looked down at the wrist clock you made for him only three weeks ago. He kissed you on the forehead before quickly rushing off down the hall towards the ballroom but not before he told you that he loved you. “I love you too.” You said to a now empty corridor. You shook your head and once again begin to rush towards the Lady’s allocated room. When you skidded to a halt outside the large, ornate door, you took a moment to smooth out your shirt and pants (whilst desperately trying to rid them of the orange stains). You tucked a piece of your damp hair back under your headband before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door.
You had to wait several moments before a thin looking woman in her mid-twenties opened the door. She looked at you questionably, before a high pitched voice from inside the room spoke up. “Just let them in. I’m in a rush.” The lady in waiting opened the door to let you through and you gave her a pleasant smile which she returned subtly before rushing to help Lady Helen Dustin place her wig on her head. The wig was far too ornate for your liking with its several unnecessary jewels that were strewn everywhere. You were certain that the wig was far too tall to fit through a doorway. How she was to dance was a mystery to you. “May I help you? I don’t remember asking for cross dresser to appear in my room. That’s more Lady Emilié’s taste.” she said whilst looking in the mirror, placing far too much rouge on her cheeks. “Forgive me my lady, but I’m Y/N, the Royal engineer if it were, and I believe you wished for me to fix your doll.” you say, the poison, hopefully very clear. Her mouth fell agape for a brief moment before signalling to the table at the end of the bed, without looking away from her reflection. You walked over to the table and place your tool box next to what is quite simply the most beautiful doll you have ever seen. You went to get your tweezers before a loud squeak stops you. The Lady Helen looked at you, appalled, “What on earth do you think you are doing?” You looked up at her confused. “Fixing your doll, my lady.” “Not here!” she practically screamed at you, “Down where you people breed.” You looked at her, holding her gaze before closing your tool box and picking up the China doll. “As you wish, my lady,” you mumbled before walking to the door. You turned back and looked at her once more, “Before I leave, my lady, please might you tell me what is wrong with the doll and what the desired result is to be.” She looked at you in horror before turning back to the mirror and saying “The arm is stuck. It’s meant to move.” You nod, curtsy and leave but not before you hear her say to her lady in waiting “I had no idea they hired such strange people in this place.” Their laughter follows you down the corridor.
Back in your workshop/bedroom you were admiring the doll. It truly was a marvel. The outside was delicate china, but the inside was a complex machine. A maze of copper cogs. It was beautiful. You had found the problem with the arm joint almost immediately, a loose screw had caused a cog to become bent, preventing it from turning. It was easily fixed and at this point, exactly half an hour before the ball was to commence, you were simply sketching the insides in detail so that you one day might be able to replicate it. You were so entangled in your work that you didn’t see the figure standing in the doorway until they coughed, loudly. You looked up abruptly to see the Prince standing there, his face covered in a ridiculous amount of make-up. You preferred him without it, if you had to choose. You stand up and fall into an awkward curtsy. “Your highness.” You mumbled out not looking him in the eye. He just smirked at you before smugly saying “You have charcoal on your face right there.” He gestured to his own nose. “And I believe you have something all over your face too.” You pointed out with delight, whilst dramatically waving a hand all over your face. His smile dropped and immediately turned into a scowl. “You can’t speak to me like that.” “Oh, of course. Where are my manners. You have something hideous on your face too, your highness,” you said while taking a ridiculously over the top curtsy. When you stand you look at him pleased that his eyebrows were furrowed with rage. “And why aren’t you,” you jabbed a finger at him, “upstairs getting ready for yet another one of your balls?” His scowl disappeared and was once again replaced by a smirk. “Well, I was in the process of doing so,” he gestured dramatically at his attire, “with the assistance of Cogsworth, but I was ever so rudely interrupted by a certain maid complaining about a supposed Royal engineer.” “And you came down to tell me what?” you asked, eyebrows raised, “that I was too hostile?” “Precisely.” He practically snorted out. “Oh dear.” You said feigning embarrassment, “I was trying so hard to hide it.” “You know, I should fire you.” He stated, “After all, you don’t do much. But your silly father is the best artist for miles to come so I guess I’m stuck with you.” Your blood boiled at his comment about your father. “Don’t you dare speak of my father that way!” You practically yelled at him. He let out a rather large chuckle. “Relax Y/N, I’m joking.” “Well, I don’t find it funny.” You let out, your tongue dripping with hostility. “It was rather funny. You should note that you look like a tomato, you’ve gone so red.” The Prince was beside himself. “Why don’t you go back upstairs where everyone wishes to throw themselves at you?” With that comment you went back to your desk at picked up your pad. “Your highness” you mutter. “Honestly Y/N enough with the formalities. You know you may call me by my name. One of the few I allow.” He stood in the doorway, for once actually looking like he could be kind. You simply glared at him and said in the most monotone voice you could muster, “I’ll call you by your name when you start acting like my friend that I knew and less like your father.” Your comment had its desired effect. The Prince turned immediately away from you and stormed away from your workshop. Satisfied, you looked back down at your sketch pad and once again begin to draw.
It was only a few moments later that you looked up to stare out the small window above your bed. You simply stared before your eyebrows knitted together with concern. A large storm was roaring outside but that was not what concerned you. What concerned you was there was someone outside in it. You stood up and rushed into the corridor and towards the back door of the servant’s quarters. Once outside, you were hit by a large wall of rain but you continued running till you reached the figure. You helped guide them through the rain towards the castle door. After pushing against the wind for several minutes you reached the door, where you hastily bustled the figure inside. Soaking wet, you finally looked properly at the figure to see that it was a beautiful lady in a green velvet dress and with luscious golden curls. She smiled at you as you directed her towards your room. She was somehow miraculously dry, unlike yourself. You were about to let her into your room where she grabbed your arm rather harshly. She looked at you, her green eyes seemingly glowing before stating, “You must leave this castle. Tonight. Gather what you need and leave for the nearest village.” You were confused as to why you had to leave but the longer you stared into the strange ladies eyes the more convinced you were of the idea of leaving. You nodded at her silently as she let go of your arm. She began to walk away and you went back into your room to begin packing what you would need, but you swore you saw her age rapidly as she began to climb the stairs at the end of the hall. In your room, you packed away your tools into your toolbox. You packed clothes into your traveling bag and placed your pad, art supplies, your only three books and your trusted tools in it as well. You put on your leather gloves and cloak ready to face the rain storm. Before you left your room you took one last look around and took the clockwork doll into your hands admiring its intricacies. With that you left.
You were walking towards the castle gates, down the large carriage path in the gardens. You looked back at the castle to see a large and strange glow coming from the ballroom. Another part of the Prince’s entertainment you thought to yourself. It was not until you heard the screams did you turn around once again and stop walking. The sound was coming from the ballroom. “Papa!” You thought out loud. You began to scold yourself. Here you were planning on running away, for a reason you couldn’t remember and you forgot to bring Papa with you. You even forgot to tell him you were leaving. You took about five steps back towards the castle when the first carriage came charging towards you. You leapt to the side just in time. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see that all of the guest carriages were barrelling down the path. As you stood there at the side of the path desperately trying to avoid being squashed by any of the carriages, you caught a glimpse inside one to see Lady Dustin. The fear etched in her face was something to behold. She looked back at the castle, terror gripping her. Her blue eyes briefly met your E/C ones and the message they sent was clear. Run. You thought of your Papa, how you couldn’t leave him, but every carriage was filled with noblewomen all with the same fear etched upon their faces. You were about to head back towards the castle when a bright, blinding light erupted from the ballroom windows, illuminating the entire gardens and sending an ice cold wind billowing into your face. You were knocked backwards by the strong wind, struggling to stay upwards. When the light dimmed you saw that rain storm that was occurring had now turned into a heavy snowfall. You looked around in both fear and awe. It was June. It never snows in June, at least not here. You stared up at the sky, at the flakes that were slowly settling around you. Then you heard it. An ear splitting roar. A roar of an animal in pain. That was it. What made you run. You ran as hard as you could towards the gates. You glanced back at the castle, where the roar was coming from, and saw a yellow flash. The flash seemed to linger before seemingly forming a glowing barrier that was spreading outwards from the castle. Whatever that glow was, you didn’t want to find out. You ran faster. Faster than you had ever ran before, your father a distance memory. The barrier was charging towards you as you reached the gate. You fumbled trying to pull them open. As they opened, the glow was nearly upon you. You ran through the opening and was pulling the gate shut with your left hand when the glow engulfed it up to your elbow. Your left hand went numb and you closed your eyes prepared for the worst. It never came. The golden glow seemed to have stopped at the castle’s perimeter and was slowly stretching upwards forming a glowing dome. You looked up in awe when you felt a sharp pain in your left arm. You stumbled backwards, tearing your eyes away from the magical dome. You forcefully removed your glove to see your hand slowly become paler and smoother. Your hand was becoming heavier and more rigid with each passing second. You looked away in horror. You grabbed your glove and ran from the castle as fast as you could, hoping that the further you got away from that cursed place, the better you’d feel. You practically sprinted through the woods putting a good distance between you at your former home. After roughly ten minutes of running, sweating and tripping over several roots, your body was begging for a small rest. You sat down under a fairly large tree, wrapping your cloak tightly around you (despite the fact it was no longer snowing). There was still a tingling feeling in your left hand. You cautiously remove your glove once again and you had to stifle a scream. Your hand was made of china, exactly like doll you were fixing for…. for… You couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t you remember? You had just been there in…. Wait where were you? You clutched your head, why were you forgetting things that just happened. ‘Maybe,’ you thought 'I’m just a little dizzy and tired from running so hard for so long.’ You decided to stay under the tree and try and get your breathing even. You looked around the woods to just see darkness surrounding you. Your head was beginning to throb now, along with your China hand. How long had you had that china hand again? As the throbbing became all you could feel, you felt your eye lids beginning to drop. Black spots appeared in your vision and you fought the urge to regurgitate your last meal. As you slipped into unconsciousness, you fought with every bone in your body to remember your Papa. You weren’t going to stop fighting to remember. As you slumped back against the tree, in a restless sleep, the woman you helped into the castle simply smiled. She knew you were strong. With that she disappeared back into the forest, walking back towards the nearest village where you’d arrive the next afternoon, so she could watch her story unfold.