#imagine getting attention from marquie
Note
Hi Nem just wanted to say I LOVE YOUUUUUUU 💖 ok bye I hope you’re having a good day!!
I'm in love with you actually.
#imagine getting attention from marquie#i have been seen and blessed by She herself#what have i done to deserve it#nemo amswers#marquie <3#mutual appreciation
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
. ݁₊ ⊹ HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN
previous part.
synopsis ; the marquis reminisces on his knowledge of you, the plane ride to france gets tense.
୨ ˙ ∘ contents. fem!reader. stalking. implications of murder. obsessive? thoughts. the marquis being himself. suggestive content? 4.7k words.
notes. hello! thank you for those giving my silly little story attention. please know requests are open ((-: for the marquis, john wick, etc etc!!
WHEN THE MARQUIS WAS A LITTLE BOY, HE HATED DOGS.
he still does.
but he made one exception just one time.
the frenchman – boy at the time – was at a dog show with one of his newest nannies of the month. she was a lovely woman, one of his top five, with pretty chocolatey brown hair and deep ebony skin. kind. vincent didn’t want to go to the dog show due to his severe dislike of the animal. they were disgusting, shedding, drooling, barking – disobedient mutts with no redeeming qualities unless beaten into submission. but the suggestion from his nanny was something he begrudgingly accepted, maybe a silly little thing to appease the woman he had a little schoolboy crush on. she seemed happy enough and vincent didn’t necessarily find it as horrid as he presumed he might have.
it was a beautiful day. a clear blue sky outside of the clear glass of the private box seats and a glowy, warm sun. cool breezes danced outside of the private box where vincent sat beside his nanny, enjoying sweets and drinks while watching the television with an odd focus for the sport he didn’t necessarily pay much mind to prior to that day. it was entertaining enough, making frivolous bets at such a young age with more money than a twelve year old could ever need. and he admittedly enjoyed his time with his nanny, he liked to see those little indents in her cheeks every time her favorite dog would win one of the little tasks required of the show dogs.
apparently her favorite dog was a five time winner of the dog show and vincent supposed he could see why. it was a beautiful english springer spaniel with chocolatey ears and eyes to contrast the long-haired coat of pure white as clean as the few clouds in the sky overlooking the event. that english springer spaniel could do tricks immaculately, there wasn’t hesitation or pause or even need for a treat in the hand of the handler. it was impressive as far as the disgusting animals go, but vincent didn’t necessarily see the beauty in the dog as he did through the lens of the woman beside him who doted on him morning, noon, and night. she had looked at him with a sweet smile and a gentle pinch of his still round cheek.
“maybe you’d like a dog like that, monsieur vincent. i know i’d love one like that.”
selfish and selfless, vincent decided there that he wanted that dog.
the son of a marquis, nobility, vincent could get anything and everything he wanted at the snap of a finger. some other business dealings within his family he did not learn of quite yet also assisted in him getting whatever it was he wanted. and until that day, vincent had never heard the word “no”. he’d never been refused and that day was truly a point and warning to all who might have dared to give him the same treatment.
the handler refused vincent’s offer, he refused the son of the marquis and a man who was feared and known internationally for matters pertaining to things outside of a nobility status. no matter how much money vincent tossed at the old man with the kind face, he refused to hand over his precious “lovey”. it was a bit mind-boggling to the young boy, who in their right mind would refuse a quarter of a million dollars for a damned mutt? that man did, that man refused everything and something burned in vincent. something he must imagine the handlers felt before their mutts became obedient and docile creatures rather than the snarling, spitty mutts they truly are.
an ache to win. it was a burn that began in his chest and spread out through the rest of his body. that old man was a bad dog, he was simply like a bad dog. and vincent saw the appeal in being a handler that day when he treated the old man as such. as a bad dog in need of training and fixing.
while it took some effort, in the end – vincent got that mutt.
that day, what was meant to be a dull day at a dog show, vincent received quite a lot of firsts. his first taste and sight of blood, his first refusal, and his first feeling of an emotion and feeling that he’d carry in the form of a dark candle in his chest for the rest of his life.
it would only burn again in the war to kill john wick.
the marquis had never, ever felt it burn so severely as it did in that hair to hair battle with the boogeyman himself. john wick was formidable, he was a monster, a beast born from hate and vengeance. he was a roach. he simply refused to die. and in the end, the marquis tasted that hot pour of blood when he was the one to finally put an end to the life of john wick. when he finally got what he wanted, when there was no more refusal and no more head shaking in response to whatever he wanted. to see that blood spill and those dark eyes roll back was more rewarding and more of a relief than any other time that candle in his chest had been pinched out.
not only had such a feat raised him in the ranks and those of the high table, but he’d been satiated. like a man dying of thirst in the sweltering desert that stumbled upon a well of ice cold water. the marquis was finally satiated and yet there was a part of him that began to…ache still. that began to burn. but it wasn’t the severe burn of a flame but rather that of a warm compress. the marquis wondered if anything would bring him such a flame again, if anything would ever or could ever compare to the flame lit by the boogeyman, by john wick. and much to his joy, much to his happiness and sadistic glee…the apple truly does not fall far from the tree.
you resurfaced one month after the death of john wick.
the marquis had attended the meeting with the table, he’d listened attentively to the meeting pertaining to the one that was personally trained and cared for by the boogeyman who’d nearly slaughtered his way through the world beneath the high table. prior to that day, the marquis had heard of you but nothing past your reputation to rival the one of the man he’d killed. it was then that there was first a spark to the flame of his candle, it was then in listening to the high table discuss you in the same teeth-grinding frustrated irritation as they spoke of the legendary and infamous john wick in that the marquis found his interest lit and his mind slotted with a space made purely for you.
then began the watching. which was…difficult to say the least.
you were a woman difficult to find, difficult to keep eyes on – but the marquis had eyes everywhere. and soon after your meeting with the new elder that determined your innocence and dismissed you of allegations of aiding and abetting one who was a traitor, the marquis had his eyes on you everywhere you went. at first at least.
during the first three months of watching you, the marquis received plenty about you. where you frequented dining spots in east asia – your primary choice of residence – who you most often spoke to, your weapon of choice, your particular love for games of chance and gambling, and your love of animals. but the marquis didn’t truly learn anything about you. all these eyes, all this information down to the fucking color of your garters and yet the marquis didn’t feel any breeze against the growing spark of his chest. not a damn thing. he was as close to peering into your mind and peeling open your chest cavity as a damned stranger on the street was.
it wasn’t until he decided to see you himself that he finally got a look in. a peek so quick it very well might have been a flash.
it was a cold night in london. his men lost you after one of your jobs, when you were spotted – he went alone against the advice of his advisor.
where he found you was almost laughable. at first.
through two heavy doors up cobblestone steps, he slipped through beautiful mahogany doors with stained glass and entered a house of worship. holding his breath, the marquis slipped into the beautiful building illuminated only by candlelight and the faint stream of white moonlight through one of the stained glass windows. it smelled faintly of charcoal and a burning fire, wax melted candles adorned the atmosphere of pews and tall statues of the god the house worshiped. the marquis wondered if this was a place he wasn’t aware of that was beneath the table, he wondered if something had truly slipped through the cracks of his mind.
until he saw you at the end of the aisle, kneeling at an altar before the row of candles lit beautifully to bathe everything in a warm glow.
the marquis was quiet in his steps, he was silent while moving along the hardwood floors in designer shoes and a designer suit to view you. unfortunately, he stopped nearly across the house of worship at the risk of being seen by you – being heard and being caught. what a messy situation that could have come of it. and the marquis watched you with a crease between his brows, he watched the warm light reflect off the side of your face seemingly relaxed with lashes fanning your cheeks and fingers interlaced beneath your chin. you looked peaceful, harmless. if only it weren’t for the blood that was splattered across your face and smeared through your hands and beneath your fingernails.
when you spoke, the marquis had nearly jumped out of his skin. no one had ever caught him so off guard.
“i can be a merciful woman.”
your voice was raised, clear. and clearly talking to him. the marquis felt every muscle in his body tense up and his deep blue eyes widen ever so slightly, dark pupils expanding to swallow the blue irises of sunken almond eyes. it was the first time that he’d ever heard your voice, the first time he’d see you in general.
“i won’t bother asking why you have been following me for months.” you spoke so surely, calm and cool. the marquis couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers. “but i will say my line is drawn when one of you bastards enters such a sacred house to taint it and plague it with your ill intents.” the marquis’s lips parted, he almost responded, he almost changed the timeline of events that would soon transpire. but you continued with a bowed head and slight crease between your brows. “whoever your boss is, tell them i will find them and deliver your head to them if you do not leave. any problems can be rectified once off sacred grounds, but leave now.”
you hadn’t known it was him.
the marquis stared at you and like a damn sparkle climbing up the rope of a firecracker, that candle in his chest did not just light but the candle was obliterated.
it wouldn’t be until months later – after he called off all eyes on you – that he’d find the candle molded back together in eager wait to be lit. and it was lit when his advisor and closest bodyguard was slaughtered.
immediately, he proposed hiring you to the table and they were eager. they were overjoyed to find a subtle punishment to befit a sketchy disappearance during the hunt for the man that you’d been with longer and closer than any other person still living. overjoyed with collaring you to the man you’ve always been too vocal about in your detest and hatred of. something that the table and the marquis knew must have worsened with the slaughtering of the infamous john wick.
the marquis put everything into order the moment he’d left the room, call after call until he was promised and guaranteed that you’d been called forth and received the message. like a child on christmas eve, he couldn’t stay still and he could hardly think of anything but you until he heard word you’d arrived in new york and signed in at the continental. mr.leblanc was solid in advising the marquis personally of your moves within the continental, what you drank, what you ate, your moods. until it had been time for you to leave for your meeting with a member of the high table.
then came the first true interaction.
off the bat, the marquis could hear the growling in your chest. a bad dog. he could feel the hatred for him even despite your cool and composed demeanor. you pushed back against his words, like a circus performer that danced on a tightrope you were careful and cautious to not fall to the ground that would mean discipline for such behavior. the marquis noted how soft your hands were, he noted how skillfully you hid your thoughts and emotions, he noted how nice your perfume was. the marquis noted plenty and when that dinner arrived just last night, he noted more.
you made demands. not to be branded or pinned. the marquis chuckled when the lawyer delivered the news with shaking hands and a trembling frame. that flame in him was lit, it burned and it still burns – he decided to give you your demand.
at dinner he noted the truth in word of mouth.
you were cold, unresponsive, borderline rude, and most of what you offered were questions rather than responses and the marquis found himself answering them. falling into the web with each deflection. the dinner was short, you touched nothing and you were as pleased to be there as you might have been in attending your execution. the marquis didn’t want to be around you a second longer in fear that he might shoot you and ruin the growth of the flame in his chest. so he saw you out but then something startled him when he took your hand to bid you a temporary farewell.
that ring. a silver ring with a sapphire jewel that he’d seen before. you lied about it. he knows such. but what he doesn’t know is the truth of it, and he can be rational, he can’t jump to conclusions. he simply cannot. but if the origin of that ring is where he can presume it to be – where only a sick and cruel god would weave two threads of lives together – then things perhaps might just be more complicated and more thickened than the marquis initially thought.
he tried to not focus on the ring. he tries to not focus on the ring. and right now as cold breezes dance through the air and he impatiently waits beside the car in a long, dark coat and black leather gloves – it comes fairly easy to put and shift his focus elsewhere. yet it falls to you all the same. deep eyes darkened by the cloudy night sky watch you talk to the pilot with your hands clad in brown leather gloves folded behind your back. the marquis exhales deep through his nose in annoyance, looking down and tugging up his sleeve to look at his expensive gold watch before he looks up at the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement of the private runway.
“oh, are you finally done a half hour later?” the marquis remarks with a light touch of sarcasm and heavy dose of irritation, his gaze meeting yours that is as cool and calm as it’s been since his car picked you up in front of the continental.
you expel an exasperated sigh, unbuttoning the small clasps of your wrist-length gloves. “i am to protect you, aren’t i? what sort of protector would i be if i didn’t question the crew and look over the plane myself?” there it is again. questions rather than answers. pointed and annoyed despite what your face and demeanor may exhibit. you tug off your gloves with the marquis only narrowing his eyes at you in response, then you sweep an arm to the private jet. “get on. we can leave now.”
despite seeing your reasoning as reasonable, he’s irritated and annoyed already with the feeling that your meticulous checking might stem from your bitterness at the cards dealt to you. still, he doesn’t give you a reaction or even a response with brisk steps past you to the steps that will lead up into the plane. he begins to tug off his own gloves with each double step of his long legs on the steps.
once inside of the warm private plane that smells of dark chocolate and a linen scent, lit with warm lights, he’s greeted by the pretty french stewardess with dark red curls and freckled cheeks. she takes his jacket and offers him a drink or meal in their shared tongue, he declines the meal and accepts the offer for a drink while she places his expensive coat delicately over her forearm. without looking back, he listens in closer and pays more attention to the short conversation between you and the stewardess while he walks to one of the cushioned seats looking out to an oval window giving a view of the private runway.
“welcome, miss. might i take your jacket?” asks the stewardess with a gentle tilt of her head.
the marquis subtly slides his eyes to where you are, lounging back just a bit and pressing his left knuckles against the left side of his mouth, elbow pressing into the arm rest and head tilting down slightly.
with a gentle nod to the stewardess, you tug off your jacket holding your gloves and hand it to her. she smiles brighter and takes it, then she nods politely. “a drink or meal perhaps?” you simply shake your head in response before she hums and excuses herself. the marquis shifts away his gaze when you turn to take the seat across from his. the scent of your perfume hits the warm air and he subtly slides his eyes over again when you sigh softly.
you look quite good in the clothes he had designed for you. tonight's ensemble is a beautiful deep – almost black – plum figure hugging dress that stops just below your knees. a scoop neck extends out to long sleeves that loop around your middle fingers by golden clasps. you’ve added your own touches with a black satin choker and inky slingback heels paired with thick black striped pantyhose. and that ring. his eyes seem to study the ring more, the intricate carvings he’d need to see beneath a magnifying glass to confirm or deny his suspicions of threads tied together. thankfully, he receives a distraction from the ring yet again. curiosity bites at him.
“where is your weapon?”
more obvious in looking at you, he drops his arm on the arm rest and meets your eyes that flicker to him. that smooth rumble of the private plane starts and your brows twitch, hands folding onto your lap. one knee propped over the opposite one.
“beneath my dress.” you reply simply.
the marquis blinks once. he wets his pink lips. “and how are you supposed to retrieve it in a timely manner?”
furrowing your brows a bit, you wet your lips and tilt your head. “sir, i am more than capable of getting rid of any threats to you without a weapon. if anything it is a last resort.” you state matter-of-factly before you gesture down at the dress. “if you didn’t dress me like a runway model but rather an actual bodyguard, perhaps your worries would be far more eased.”
he hums. “what a healthy ego…” he mutters while shifting his eyes away. some satisfaction brews in him with your scoff. the marquis then shakes his head. “if you look like a bodyguard it would be pointless to have you around. it is the element of the unknown, besides – i meet with many people and you must be approachable.”
“wearing slacks doesn’t make me unapproachable.” you reply pointedly.
“no but that scowling face paired with all black does.” the marquis snaps a bit impatient with his eyes snapping back to you.
you stare at him. then you seem to bite back an eye roll before you look away and press your index and middle finger against your forehead. he can see the tension rise in your jaw, your hand falls to fold on your lap. it looks as if you want to say something, but you don’t. and when the stewardess comes by with his drink, the marquis doesn’t spare her so much as a glance while taking it. those deep eyes only remain on you, the obvious annoyance seeping through the cracks of your cool and calm demeanor. he’s a bit prideful, to find buttons without meaning to. silence continues to settle, his sunken almond eyes flickering to the window to watch the private runway fade away.
three hours pass, the marquis sorting through what’s required on his laptop while you file through files and pages of what’s to be expected in the week to come. five days in france, two in japan. he occasionally tosses you a glance. your expression of focus is a bit amusing, brow furrowed and tongue peeking out against the center of your top lip. the marquis continues to focus on his work, chewing on the inner corner of his pink lips and typing along the sleek, expensive computer designed for work outside of duties beneath the table.
near the end of the file, you clear your throat and draw his attention in the form of a hum.
“this meeting with geralt matthews in tokyo.” you begin and his eyes flicker up, you sit up and hold out the page of details to him provided by his assistant. “you can’t meet him in this district.” the marquis’s brows stitch, setting his laptop aside on the table swept out from the wall beside him, he reaches out and takes the page from you. you continue speaking while looking down at the last page of the file with a deep exhale. “that district is highly occupied by the bloodhounds.” his lips part, in disbelief that he had let himself slip with that information.
“and they do not like foreigners.” he sighs while reaching for his phone and passing the page back to you with annoyance and irritation.
taking it from him, you hum a bit in satisfaction. “especially the french. though who doesn’t detest the french?”
his eyes flicker to you, his eyes narrow at the gentle flick to his ego with a hint of a grin at the corners of your lips. something childish, something arrogant prods at his mind while he clicks the contact in his phone and begins to type a message to alert the assistant on contact 24/7.
“if rumors stand true i hear you have quite the taste for the french.” the marquis hums with a tilt of his head once the message is sent. two seconds to absorb your sudden stiffness in your jaw and he clicks off his phone to tuck away. deep eyes look across to you, your foot bounces gently and your hands shut the file while holding his eyes with a bit of an intense gaze. “leblanc can run his mouth, can’t he, mademoiselle?” tutting, he expels a sigh and grabs his laptop back to his lap to shut off. “such a talker he is.”
deep eyes meet your expression looking out of the window. tense jaw, pressed lips, and your thumb stroking that sapphire on the ring. you’re irritated aren’t you? the marquis feels that warmth of satisfaction yet again. but it becomes cold when a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, eyes slip to him and you nod with a firmness.
“he is – he had quite a bit to say about you while i was mmm…what did you say?” you pretend to think before you suck your teeth. “ah french tasting.” the marquis’s eyes darken and you tilt your chin up ever so slightly, the arrogant and sleazebag that was his second-cousin sure does run his mouth. he feels a sudden regret for the prodding at you. it feels as if you just nipped at his fingers through your cage. “i suppose we will not be going to any zoos when we land? would not want to see the fearsome–” before you can finish your string of words of a humiliating fear of the marquis that’s long since left him yet still remains humiliating, stands quickly with a hot glare down at you.
“you cannot speak to me that way. have you forgotten your place?” he speaks coldly, firm and pressed through a heavy french accent.
slowly, you stand with that cool and composed demeanor. so close to him that he can see the faint scar along the apple of your cheek he hadn’t yet noticed, you hold his gaze. your perfume wafts into his senses, he’s much taller than you he notices truly now.
“i told you i am not your pet, i will not be your dog – your animal – like the rest of your staff you deem so disposable.” your voice is firm, stiff and tense. thick and heavy tension blankets the atmosphere between the two of you. the marquis feels his fists tighten at his sides. “you will not toy with me as if i am a doll for your pleasure and expect me to accept it and swallow it. i will gladly spit it back at your arrogant face.” anger seethes along your words, you step closer to him, the marquis can hear the flow of his blood and thumping of his heart. “i detest you. you detest me. try to be civil and i will grant you the same courtesy.”
blood boils hot, his heart drums in his head. despite the anger that flows hotly through him, he keeps a calm and composed demeanor with his ground still standing tall and firm. tucking one hand into the pocket of his slacks, he tilts his head and leans down closer to you. the scent of rye and mint fills the space between your faces. your eyes narrow sharply when his hand suddenly jerks up and grabs you by your jaw so tightly he can feel the bone of your jaw beneath his fingertips and fingers. immediately, you stiffen up and grunt. but he notices you bite back a reaction, a reflex.
forcing your head to turn slightly, he leans down closer. near your ear, his voice leaves a gentle whisper.
“how lucky you are that you are of use to me right now.” his eyes remain trained on your seat, your glass stained at the rim with your lipstick. “killing you would be a waste…” his hand tightens at your jaw, his lashes flutter hearing the slight pick-up in your breathing. “but hurting you would be a relief.”
that would be enough. to anyone, that would be enough.
but not you.
your voice bleeds into his ear.
“then do it. my left thigh, monsieur de gramont, get the blade beneath my dress.”
the marquis’s jaw tightened, his breathing stopped for just a moment. that candle in his chest roared for several beats of silence. his heart beat quicker than his blood rushed, his stomach coiled and his skin stung where it touched you. in his head your perfume clouded his mind. you suddenly jerked out of his grasp and pushed him enough to get him away from you. glaring at him hotly, you rubbed your jaw before you stepped back and snatched your glass off your table beside your cushioned seat.
“your threats do not work, sir.” you turn on your heel and shake your head. “do not touch me again.” these five words are the most expressive. sharp and deadly, disgust coiling around each syllable and something else hardening the words. the marquis watches you leave through the door to the refreshments and other amenities. clenching his jaw, he breathes out a big breath and grasps his eyes with a shake of his head.
how is he meant to not shoot you before he can push you into obedience? before he can do what every master does to a bad dog…
before he can break you.
oh how the marquis hates dogs.
part four.
#marquis vincent de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont x reader#vincent de gramont#the marquis x reader#marquis de gramont x reader#marquis de gramont#john wick#john wick x reader#john wick x you#john wick x y/n
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hamefura Bonus Story : Be happy
This is a story about Raphael and his mother. I personnaly found it so touching and sweet, really one of my favorite ! Raphael's mother was like her son, very gentle and strong !
My family was not very wealthy.
However, my parents gave me a lot of love, and for the sake of my future, they forced me to enroll in a school of etiquette.
However, due to overwork, my parents passed away due to an epidemic while I was still in school.
Losing my parents, whom I loved so much, and being all alone, made me sad, but I did my best not to waste what my parents had done for me, and I graduated from school safely.
And just then, a vacancy became available at Marquis Deek's household, and I was appointed as a servant.
I'm an underling maid, but if I have a background of working for the marquis house, I won't have trouble finding a job in the future.
My future is secure.
This is all thanks to my parents sending me to school.
Let's work hard.
I started working with that enthusiasm, but...
For some reason, I, who was an underling, caught the attention of the master of the marquis house, and ended up being made to be his partner for the night.
Eventually, I became pregnant with a child.
It was never the pregnancy I wanted.
Still, I was happy to think that I, who had become all alone, could have a family again.
That's why, when the Marchioness turned her hatred on me, who seemed to have realized I was pregnant... I quietly escaped from the mansion to protect my child.
I moved far away from the mansion and I started making all kinds of preparations.
I no longer had relatives I could rely on, but I had saved up the wages I had received from the marquis' household and spent very little, so I wouldn't have to work for a while.
But I can't give birth to a child alone, so I have to ask for help.
When I started preparing for the birth of my child, there were so many things I had to do, and time passed by in the blink of an eye.
Fortunately, a kind old lady who lived next door to the house I rented offered to help me after giving birth for a small amount of my pocket money.
After a long and painful process, I finally held my baby in my hands, and I felt so moved that tears naturally started to flow.
I had been left all alone, but now I had a precious family again, and I would do anything for this child. That's what I thought.
I named my lovely son, with red hair and grey eyes, Raphael.
And I decided to give him the same love I had received from my parents.
When Raphael got a little older, I left him with the old lady next door and went to work.
The money I had saved at the marquis' house was running low, and I needed to earn enough money to live with Raphael.
Of course, I didn't tell the marquis' family, and I never told to anyone around me about his father.
When I remembered the hatred-filled eyes that the Marchioness used to look at me, I thought in my heart that it would be better not to get involved.
I love tea, so my kind son desperately makes tea for me with his small hands.
How lucky I am to have such a son.
That's what I always thought every time I saw Raphael.
I was really happy, imagining that I would be able to spend my days in a modest and warm way and one day see the lovely bride that this kind son of mine would bring home to me.
And yet...
My son's mouth was covered with a cloth and he was pinned to the cold floor.
"Stop it !!! "
I screamed desperately, but the man pinned me to the floor.
Why, why did this happen ?
"Please don't treat that child's body roughly That body will belong to my precious Sirius."
It was the Marchioness Deek who said that and looked at me with the same hatred-filled eyes as ten years ago.
I don't understand the meaning of this situation at all.
All of a sudden, I was brought in, beaten, and hurt, all of which I couldn't understand.
But all I know is that they are going to do something bad to my precious son.
"…… Marchioness, if you hate me, I don't care what you do to me ……so please, please don't do anything to my son ……."
I pleaded desperately, but the Marquise's behaviour did not change.
"What an brazen woman ! The woman who stole my husband and even gave her a child still says what she wants ?! "
That's what the Marchioness said, but it wasn't true at all.
"…… I was only appointed as a temporary partner by the Marquis. I have no intention of approaching the Marquis again. I just want to live quietly with my child."
In fact, the Marquis probably doesn't even remember me anymore. He probably doesn't even know that he has a son. So I want him to leave us alone.
"...I will never allow you, you and your child, to live happily ever after !...Start !"
My voice did not reach the Marchioness.
A black man wearing all black clothes stood in front of me and began muttering words I had never heard before.
Then, I felt a strong shock to my body.
Oh, I'm no good now. That's what I understood.
I don't feel anything in my body.
I vaguely saw Raphael coming towards me.
If I could move my hands the way I want, I would want to touch your cheek and wipe away your tears...
Don't cry, Raphael.
A kind and proud son.
I was so happy to give birth to you and spend time with you.
So please, you too...
"... Please... live, survive, be happy... I love you..."
★★★★★
When I opened my eyes, I saw the ceiling there, which I was finally getting used to seeing, and remembered that this was a room in the Ministry of Magic dormitory that I was renting.
It has been a few weeks since I, Raphael Walt, started working for the Ministry of Magic.
That day, after Catarina called me by my real name and the black man disappeared from my mind, I started dreaming about Mom more often.
They were mostly happy ones, not the ominous ones I used to have, such as being hugged …… in my childhood, being stroked on the head, and being praised for the tea I made for my mom.
Also, the last appearance of mom... Now that I think about it again, she was looking at me with a very gentle gaze.
The hatred and sorrow are not gone.
Even so, it was definitely thanks to her that I was able to live without being trapped in the past.
From now on, I will live to be happy, as my mother said in her last words.
It may not be easy for me, who has committed various crimes so far...
To that end, let's do what we can do now.
I got out of bed, got dressed, and headed to my assigned department at the Ministry of Magic.
Since I always arrive early, I haven't seen any other employees yet, and I was alone in the quiet room getting ready for work when there was a knock on the door.
It didn't seem like there was an employee who came in like this in this department, I wondered who it was.
"Come in"
When I replied,
"Excuse me"
The one who came in saying that was Nicol Ascart, a beautiful young man with black hair and dark eyes.
"Eh, why are you here ?"
I was so surprised that I forgot to use honorifics and just asked him.
"I had something to do at the Ministry of Magic, so I stopped by while I was there."
Nicol said that with his usual expressionless expression, and she held out a large bag.
"It seems that the student council members gave this to you. I received it yesterday."
“Eh, thank you.”
The bag I received was heavy and filled with sweets, tea leaves, vegetables, etc.
And there was a piece of paper placed on top of the bag that said, "Do your best at your job."
I recognized the not-so-good characters. She often spread out her notebook in the student council room.
"……Thank you"
I held the bag I received close to my chest, and when I muttered that again, my expressionless friend simply nodded.
The weight of the bag in my arms made me think that maybe I was already happy.
#hamefura#my next life as a villainess#katarina claes#bakarina#light novel#otome game no hametsu flag#otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta#raphael wolt#my next life as a villainess: all route lead to doom#bonus story#nicol ascart
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
rambly, nonsensical lestat theory below
so none of this is substantiated by anything other than my brain but I've been, long before today, thinking about lestat being 35 when he was turned, as opposed to near/at 21. because that's a huge age gap re: where a person is in their life. for anyone that doesn't know, les kills the wolves in december-ish (a month after) he turns 20. he meets nicki in january, they run away to paris together in may, lestat gets his big break in august, and then the vampirism comes.
and it gets us thinking, what's the timeline then for lestat? is he in paris much longer? is he in auvergne longer? what's the deal?
imo I think the quickness of les and nicki is important and needs to stay as something quick. it needs to be a whirlwind of a taste of everything lestat's wanted, only to have it taken away from him in every regard.
that leaves us with lestat being in auvergne longer. I think there are a couple of ways this could come about; they could have lestat's brothers enter the revolution and lestat, as the provider he's always been, has to stay to take care of his blinding father and sickly mother. he, essentially, becomes, the main head of auvergne, something he doesn't want at all. still, this goes on for years until, in fashion, he has to go after a wolf that turns out to be a pack of wolves and, in his success and his realization that he can't do this forever and meeting nicki, they run off to paris, encouraged by gabrielle who is happy to see lestat getting out, something she never could do.
I think also, for scandal purposes, they could have lestat be married. it's not serious, it's arranged, and maybe she's too like his family, hates him for who he is, maybe is even ashamed as his status as a last son, etc. and so when he kills the wolves and nicki shows up, lestat basks in the attention, of feeling like he's seen (see what I did there?). and imagine the chaos of when the son of the marquis leaves his wife and parents to go off to paris with another man to be an actor. the horror? the disbelief? the rumors? amazingly crazy. especially when nicki turns out to be no different than his family, hating him for the light that makes him him.
these aren't all my thoughts on this, but the big ones.
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know you said you might be busy these coming days, but I've just discovered Alkibiades from AC Odyssey and OMG the shenanigan's that would ensue if he were to be transported around the timeline to different assassin's. Altair and Ezio especially. Just imagine him walking up to masyaf like nothing and asking where to find the wine, or walking around italy and becoming friends with leonardo and absolutely making a threesome happen with ezio that would make ezio realize his feelings for leo.
Alkibiades would definitely play the fool as he tries to understand where he is. Even though he’s mostly seen as a troll with the highest sex drive in AC, he was still a student of Socrates, a cunning politician, and even a general. He would definitely push for debauchery and orgy parties but, underneath the wine and sex, he’ll be trying to get as much information as he can wherever he is.
Third Crusades: Alkibiades would be seen as a person of interest. Obviously not one of the Christians due to his ‘hobbies’ but also definitely not from around there. He would get everyone’s attention but Altaïr’s interest in him would be more on what Alkibiades can give him: information. Even if Alkibiades were to suggest they have talk about such hard topics after some wine and perhaps a round or two, Altaïr wouldn’t agree to it because it would be too dangerous for him to remove his weapons and equipment in an unsecured place. However, they would definitely get along but not in the way Alkibiades wanted. Their conversation would seen veer to philosophy and Alkibiades would both enjoy it and be annoyed by it because talking to Altaïr just makes him miss all those philosophical debates he would listen or participate in back home.
Renaissance Italy: Alkibiades would definitely be welcomed by the nobility for his intelligence and ‘strangeness’. The Church would turn a blind eye to his debauchery because he’s rubbing elbows with the powerful and the rich. In this scenario, Alkibiades has the highest chance of meeting Leonardo by becoming his patron. Perhaps, in this scenario, Alkibiades would take over Cesare’s place as Leonardo’s patron during the time of Brotherhood and, it’s in Rome (because, come on, Alkibiades would definitely host orgy parties in the seat of power of Christianity and tell people that they are honoring Dionysus) that he catches Ezio’s attention. Alkibiades would have a ‘pleasure first, business later’ relationship with Ezio and, yeah, Ezio would definitely do a few quests for Alkibiades similar to the assassination contracts for the Medici. Alkibiades would absolutely invite Ezio to his orgy parties and it’s in one of those that he pushes Leonardo (who Alkibiades knows has the hots for Ezio, he’s not blind) to Ezio and acts as a sort of ‘glue’ to keep them from stopping or thinking too deeply about the consequences this ‘one night stand’ would have in their relationship. It all work out in the end though and Alkibiades never stops telling Leonardo and Ezio that he’s their matchmaker.
Colonial America: Alkibiades will find his way into the Homestead and, while it can get boring because the people there are a bit ‘boring’, he and Ratonhnhaké:ton would get along. Not the sex part but the philosophy part, as well as having mentors that can be a bit too much at times (although Alkibiades would stress that his Socrates is much more layback and nicer than Achilles). He’ll definitely be Ratonhnhaké:ton’s sexual awakening and… Just imagine Haytham’s face when he hears that his son is in a kinda-sorta casual sexual relationship with someone like Alkibiades. Also, America is fucked the day he and Benjamin Franklin talk about Benjamin Franklin’s experience with the Hellfire Club. Shay may or may not be a member of their sex club, he will definitely not tell anyone if he was.
French Revolution: Alkibiades and Marquis de Sade will be BFF and it will be as chaotic and as depraved as you’re imagining. Although Alkibiades would be fascinated by the growing unrest in Paris, he’ll stay away from it though as he sees himself more as a voyeur than a participant. He definitely got Arno to join their orgies though…
Victorian London: Alkibiades would be more like a distant ally of the Rooks. He probably won’t interact with Evie a lot since he’s not really part of the whole Assassins versus Templars’ Race for POEs plot but he and Jacob are friends. Jacob is sometimes awkward around him but Alkibiades knows it’s because Jacob is having his bisexual awakening without him knowing. Alkibiades will definitely help in his own way and there’s a lot of sex involved and a lot of casual conversations between them. They’re not necessarily a couple but they are definitely friends with benefits. By the time Roth enters the picture, Jacob knows how he feels and he has a friend to talk to about it. Alkibiades enjoys danger but Roth is obviously bad news and he doesn’t want his favorite fuck buddy to get hurt.
Modern Day: Alkibiades is the owner of Bad Weather which is now a special BDSM members-only club. He takes Desmond as a bartender because he thinks he’s pretty (which means more drunk people asking for more drinks). Whether the boy wants to remain a bartender the entire time is up to him. Alkibiades has a more ‘mentor’-like relationship with Desmond and he teaches Desmond what he learned from both Socrates and the experiences he had before and after getting punted in this world. Desmond thinks he’s a bit eccentric and is in love with Ancient Greeks but he’s definitely a better ‘mentor’ than William Miles. They have super powerful clients and discretion is very important in this kind of establishment so, in some way, as long as Desmond is affiliated with Bad Weather, it would be hard for Abstergo to try and kidnap Desmond.
By the way, nonny...
(I saw the Alkibiades posts in my dashboard XD)
#i made the pairings vague but he is definitely fuck buddies with a lot of them#then kasssandra finds him#and together they fuck up ac canon#just imagine desmond calling kassandra aunt kass though#ask and answer#assassin's creed#alkibiades
43 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ayo do you have any headcanons about the marquis from jw4. PERSONALLY, I think he and chidi are a thing but I wanna hear your thoughts?
oh he definitely has a “right hand man for what? jerking you off?” dynamic w chidi lol but personally i imagine it’s not an exclusive relationship (for vincent anyways). the scenes w marquis and the tracker have a lot of sexual tension but i think the tracker fully despises him. he’s literally just a spoiled french boy twink and the tracker only has eyes for john (literally)
i haven’t really thought too much abt headcanons for him i’ll be honest but since i’m thinking about it now here’s a few:
• he’s definitely a coffee snob.
• he goes to/hosts parties just to find the sluttiest men to take to his bedroom. it’s fine if they don’t speak the same language (honestly better)
• he can be dominant, he likes having men on their knees for him but he also likes being up against the wall
• laughs at popular fashion trends & keeps a fairly consistent style but keeps up with some select designers and has a bit of a hyperfixation on them. he’s owned every collection piece he’s ever desired and goes through his wardrobe at the end of every year to get rid of anything that doesn’t spark joy anymore, but he keeps quite a lot of his clothes for years. he likes having the selection of old and new and bringing back attention to a popular piece from balmain 2016 fall collection when he decides to wear it for a dinner out. (i am laughing imagining him wearing that but it would also be kind of a serve)
thanks for the ask! i haven’t thought about him in a while so this was fun haha. i love seeing people find my john wick 4 posts and i always love talking about it!!!
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
@dimitresca liked for a starter
Milena is thirty-eight years old today. It is her eighteenth year spent at the castle. At some point, the passage of the years does not seem to be quite as important as it once was; her body no longer shows it, so it is easy for her mind to disregard it as well. But on days like today - on birthdays and on fests - they tend to take a moment’s pause and observe.
It is an unspoken tradition that something will happen to mark the occasion. Nothing as grand as her mistress’ celebrations, certainly, and nothing as personable as the birthdays that she’d had before in the village -- but something. The Lady won’t be seen not to spoil her little pet on today of all days. They take dinner together, sometimes, and share a toast late in the evening -- sweets provided, if Milena is lucky. She is given a sickeningly expensive gift, and they mark the night with private debauchery that would make the Marquis de Sade’s hair curl. This, of course, is all very pleasant -- but the most important part is that usually she can steal her mistress’ attention for just a little longer, be it some extra time in bed that morning to be smothered with kisses, or an early departure from work in the afternoon. However it is marked, the Lady Dimitrescu never forgets it.
This morning had been a little strained. The Countess was called away early by Mother Miranda, so it had been all business to have her dressed and ready to go up until the moment she was out the door. But that was perfectly alright -- later then, Milena had thought, they would make up the time.
Only - later had come, and later had gone, and there had been no sign of the Lady’s return. Milena had completed every menial task in the castle she could possibly find, had tidied everything away from the morning’s activity and arranged her mistress’ vanity table to perfection about three times already, and that had only brought her to nine o’clock. The rest of the staff, she imagines, would have been winding down for the night then as well, leaving no corner undusted. She sets out the wine and the tobacco, still, in preparation.
Finally, just before midnight, Milena accepts that the day is over. Defeated, she finally turns away from the clock on the mantlepiece, and sets her book aside, pulling her knees close to her on the armchair that she has spent so many nights curled up asleep on. Something heavy and terrible has settled upon her chest, the weight of her reality a disappointing one: She isn’t coming.
She steels herself and gives a shaky little sigh. No matter what, she will not cry over this. In fact, she will not even look mildly upset the next time she sees the Countess. She has no reason to be upset, after all. She is a servant. She is owned, but not valued. These games that they play are just that -- they play at being wives like they are two children. None of it is real, and it would do Milena well in the long run to remember that. She is not a priority, she is not a friend. She is a pretty distraction and that is all. It is easy to get carried away in the heat of it and fall headfirst into the private little world that her mistress creates for the two of them behind closed doors, but when she is alone in the cold light of day, it all crumbles in on itself much too quickly.
It is some time after midnight when she finally hears footsteps and the turn of the door handle. By that time, she has gotten a hold of herself and looks upwards with as bright a smile as she can muster, though there is a touch of sadness which still lingers around her eyes and her brow. She struggles for a moment, unsure of what to say, before eventually settling on;
“Welcome home, my Lady.”
8 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Rating: 1/5
Book Blurb: In this queer gothic romance, a young marquis caught between freedom and passion, honor and love will have to unravel a centuries-old curse to find his own happy ending.
Trapped in a world of straight expectations, queer marquis Emile longs for independence. So, when his aunt declares he must marry to produce an heir or be disowned, he runs away disguised as a servant until he can come of age and reclaim his inheritance.
All Emile needs to do is keep his head down and bide his time, but he quickly stumbles into a mystery beyond his imagination. While working in the service of the intimidating Count Montoni and his family, Emile learns that they suffer from a strange affliction every full moon, which requires full sedation. And when he discovers a mangled corpse on the estate the same night as suspicious family arguments break out, he reports it. But Emile cannot guess what lengths Count Montoni is willing to go to to keep his family’s secrets safe. As Emile becomes more entangled in the household and its paranormal origins, his inquiries draw the attention of the handsome doctor, Bram, and the count’s charismatic nephew, Henri.
But how can Emile earn the esteem of the earnest doctor, while keeping his own identity and desires a secret? And how can he trust—let alone love—Henri, a man as mercurial as the ever-changing moon? To find the love he deserves and survive the Montoni family, Emile will have to risk his title as well as his life.
Review:
Emile is a queer Marquis who is pretending to be a servant in order to escape his aunt who wants him to marry a woman to produce a heir and if not she will send him to an asylum, so he takes on a new identity and now finds himself in a love triangle between a count’s son named Henri and a handsome doctor named Bram. While at his new position as a servant he discovers that the Count Montoni and his family all suffer from a strange affliction every full moon that requires them to be sedated.... (we all know its clearly werewolves) and now Emile finds himself not only trying to sort out his feelings between the two men in his life but also the fact that his secret is close to being revealed and that he might be in danger if the Count think’s he might be onto the family’s secret. Emile is essentially 17 and his character definitely feels young and juvenile, I’m going to be honest, he was absolutely annoying and the story felt like it dragged on and on. For what was suppose to be an interesting queer gothic romance it definitely did not live up to it. Sadly, I found myself just wishing the book was over already. Emile is wishy washy about his feelings and can’t figure out what or who he wants while Henri is aggressive and Bram is overly sweet. In the end it has a happy ending *spoiler, they enter into a poly relationship between the three of them* but truly the entire book was just about Henri and Emile’s relationship, you never really get the relationship building with Bram yet Emile claims his heart always wants Bram while Henri just keeps pushing and pushing. Honestly this felt so juvenile, oddly placed, and just kind of a mess. Sadly this one really didn’t work for me despite how much I wish it did. It had all the elements to be something I would love, from having a queer romance, being a gothic with a dash of werewolves, and a bit of historical, all the elements to be something I would adore, yet it just missed the mark completely. If you are looking for a queer historical romance with a bit of paranormal and with a more juvenile story definitely give this a go, maybe it’ll be for you.
*Thanks Netgalley and Page Street Publishing, Page Street Kids for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
child of liberty - chapter one
Jeannette’s boots tapped lightly against the old wood as she made her way across the deck of the ship. The new dawn had brought news that their journey was coming to an end. Out across the waters, that statement rang true. New York Harbor, in all its glory, stood before their ship. She drew in a sharp breath. Her father had spent the past five years of his life aiding the Americans in freeing themselves from the hand of the British, and she was finally going to see the rewards of that work.
“There it is.” Monsieur Thomas closed his eyes as he inhaled through his nose. She mimicked him, allowing the salty air to fill her lungs. “Home sweet home. My beautiful nation. Jeannette, darlin’, you are going to love it here.”
“I must admit, Monsieur Thomas, that most of my excitement about the new country comes from the fact that my father is here,” she said with a little laugh. The breeze snagged some curls from her ponytail, obscuring her view of the harbor. They were close enough now that the echoes of a busy city reached her ears. Men were shouting back and forth, almost drowned out by the waves crashing against the sides of the ships.
“I do not blame you, Miss Jeannette. I’m excited to see him as well, along with my old friend, James Madison.” Monsieur Thomas had hardly finished speaking before Captain McCalla stole his attention away, surely with information about their porting. Jeannette brushed by him cautiously, and made her way back down to her cabin in the hull of the ship. She was lucky enough to get a room all to herself, as small as it was.
Her stomach lurched as she watched herself in the mirror. For the past five years, the only glimpses of her father had been in the mirror. She had been told again and again that she was the Marquis made over- her thick eyebrows and dark eyes, the long curls falling around her face- they were all him. If she squinted enough, she could imagine her father as she remembered him, with his hair drawn up in a bun and a scruff of beard covering his chin. She touched the mirror, and the illusion was immediately broken.
“Oh, Père, I pray you are proud of me, even after all this time.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and anxiously adjusted the white cravat tied around her neck. Being proud of her- she hoped he would even recognize her! In the time he was gone, she had turned from an annoying child to someone more adult, more grown up. She had traded the frilly gowns of a little girl for coats and breeches, much to the dismay of the ladies her father used to associate with.
“Docking in New York Harbor!” A man shouted from above, a chorus of bells accompanying his voice. She tucked her lower lip under her teeth, the excitement and anxiety mixing in her stomach.
“Are you ready to see America?” She turned at the sound of Monsieur Thomas’s voice. He held a gloved hand out to her.
She slipped her hand in his. “Oui.”
#hamilton#hamilton musical#fanfiction#hamilton fanfiction#marquis de lafayette#original character#original child character#phillip hamilton#thomas jefferson#turn washington's spies#revolutionary war#john adams hbo#lin manuel miranda#musical theatre
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sail, Dine, and Enjoy a Luxury night in Dubai's Water Canal Dinner Cruise
The boundaries of luxury and entertainment are continually being explored by Dubai, a city known for its wealth and elegance. The Dubai Water Canal Cruise Dinner is one of the most collaborative events. You will be fascinated by this remarkable outing, which mixes the beauty of Dubai's breathtaking canals with a fine dining experience.
The Magic of Water Canals
The Dubai Water Canal is a unique man-made waterway that connects the Arabian Gulf to Dubai Creek and extends for around 3.2 kilometers. It passes by some of the city's famous sites, such as Business Bay, the JW Marriott Marquis Hotel, and the Dubai Canal Bridge. The canal is 120 meters wide at its widest point, 80 meters wide at its narrowest point, and 6 meters deep. Many things draw people attention to the water canal area. As the sun sets and the city lights begin to glimmer, the pure waters of the canal reflect the sparkling cityscape, generating a mesmerizing scene. The Neva River in Petersburg is an example of an iconic water channel that screams to be explored.
Indulge in a Luxury Yacht Experience
Imagine yourself aboard a beautiful boat, smoothly drifting through calm water canals surrounded by old architecture, rich greenery, and the soft hum of a luxurious experience. You are not just a passenger on a luxury yacht, you are a privileged guest. Yacht cruises through water canals are a classic way to discover some of the world's best-known towns, providing a rare combination of class, comfort, and cultural discovery.
Do you hate crowds when you're trying to chill on vacation? When did you first onboard your yacht? Have you been on any yacht before? Then all of the answers is to take a Dubai water cruise yacht dinner with your loved ones to experience the excitement of the sea. Enjoy the cool water splashes and have wonderful moments with your lover, family, or group. In this article, we'll take you on a virtual tour of the world of luxury boat adventures on water canals.
Entertainment on-board
The Dubai Water Canal Cruise Dinner adventure begins as you board a stunning tour yacht. These boats include all of the latest facilities that you would expect from a high-end experience. this yacht Offers an unmatched level of comfort and satisfies all of your needs. Your trip will be nothing short of outstanding because of the luxuriously furnished cabins, fine dining options, individualized service, and luxuries like spas, swimming pools, and on-board entertainment. Many Dubai Water Canal cruises offer live entertainment, such as traditional music, dance performances, and even a DJ to keep the party going on and to improve the mood of the night. There is an atmosphere to fit regardless of whether you like a calm and romantic one or an energetic and bright one. The beauty and magic of these canals may be appreciated unlike any other method of transportation when you ride through canals on a luxury yacht. Due to its modest size, the yacht can explore narrow areas like hidden corners and secret passageways that are prohibited by larger ships.
Experience the Dubai Water Canal Cruise Dinner
One of the highlights of a luxury yacht cruise is the dining meals. You'll be treated to a lavish meal as you take your seat and the ship gets off. These cruises provide a wide variety of dinner options that can fit a variety of tastes and food preferences. The menus have been carefully created to please your taste buds and feature everything from traditional Arabian dishes to international food. Imagine enjoying freshly cooked kebabs, flavorful biryanis, and rich desserts while admiring Dubai's stunning nighttime scenery. Dubai Water Canal offers a collection of dining experiences, catering to all tastes and budgets including some of these.
Waterside Cafes and Restaurants: These establishments offer the ideal atmosphere for anyone looking to unwind on a relaxing evening. While enjoying a favorite beverage, enjoy local Emirati, Asian, or Mediterranean dishes. Remember to sample the fresh seafood selections, which are a specialty at many of these restaurants.
Dhow Cruises: If you want an individual dining experience, think about booking a dinner trip on a classic Arabian dhow. With their soft lighting and breathtaking vistas, these beautifully constructed wooden boats provide a romantic environment. While floating down the canal and enjoying famous structures like the Burj Khalifa and the Dubai Waterfall Bridge, you might enjoy a delicious buffet.
Fine Dining: Additionally, Dubai Water Canal is home to a number of great restaurants renowned for their excellent food and outstanding customer service. These restaurants frequently have experts from around the world who create stunning menus that satisfy picky eaters. A memorable eating experience is created by the mix of delicious food and the quiet atmosphere of the canals.
Booking Tips:
It is highly recommended to make reservations in advance, especially for dinner cruises and fine dining locations, as dining along the Dubai Water Canal can be a popular choice. Furthermore, having a Dubai Water Canal Cruise Dinner around sunset will let you see how the canal changes from day to night, giving an extra layer of magic to your dining experience.
0 notes
Text
i m p l i c i t ⏤katsuki b.
p a i r i n g : bakugou x f.reader
s u m m a r y : ever since you were young, you were forced to meet with the person dubbed as your finance, Katsuki Bakugou, a Baron’s son who had quite the temper but peaks your interest in every way possible
l e n g t h : 1.9k
g e n r e : olden days au ; fantasy au ; arranged marriage au ; Bakugou is a tsundere ; and we love him for it ; reader is an amazing bean that can keep up with him ; kirishima is your brother ; best brother ever ; rumours are toxic ; never base your opinions on someone solely on rumours ; you attract a stalker ; it’s not your fault ; he just as a twisted yandere mind ; Katsuki is your hero ; he makes your heart flutter ; and he makes your knees weak ; i really want someone to protect me and say what he said at the end of this
w a r n i n g s : swearing from our lovable explosion murder king ; acts of stalker/yandere ; sword fighting
a / n : i didn’t plan on posting this but mother nature decided to pay me a visit today so i basically lazed around in my bed groaning in pain and half starving bc it was too painful to get out at times for food. instead i started writing this imagine again that i had began months ago. this is inspired by Ranma 1/2, which is an anime that i loved watching when i was much younger, it’s not well edited because i’m kinda dizzy rn but i hope you enjoy it!
— first of all, before either you or Katsuki were born, the arrangement for your marriage to each other was already settled by your parents, hence why you were immediately introduced when you were children
— neither of you knew what marriage or engagement meant but you both associated it with seeing each other
— it wasn’t something Katsuki liked but you didn’t quite mind it, he always gave you really interesting reactions that you quickly came to like
— as the two of you grew up together, you always tried your best to get close to him but Katsuki was adamant at pushing you away and keeping you at arms length at all times
— despite all that, you wanted to catch his attention, which meant that you took interest in all the things that he found interesting too. that included: sword fighting, horse riding, duelling ; spicy foods ; battle tactics ; magic etc
— Katsuki always tried to ignore you but secretly appreciated how skilled you had become over the years. you were still nothing compared to him but you were able to battle against a majority of qualified knights and still be the last one standing
— he only scoffed at you because your talents were wasted; you’re too kindhearted to ever use your honed skills properly - it irritates him that other women push you to conform to etiquette, tea parties and high society when you were better than that
— you’re better than shallow conversations about the latest fashion, or the art of sipping tea, calligraphy and painting because he knows how much you train and how much effort you put into your education outside of such insignificant things
— Katsuki knows that you can handle yourself better than any other nobleman he knows of, he’s seen you help your father with his business and vigorously train with your dukedom’s knights
— what’s the point of all that effort if you weren’t going to show anything for it?
— because of that Katsuki always acted like he hated having you as his fiancée despite your optimism about him, as well as your patience and understanding of his unique way of expressing himself
— because the two of you are forced to spend a lot of time together by your parents, you’ve has been able to understand Katsuki and his mannerisms better than anyone else as your mother has always taught you to be openminded - she’s never been like the other noble ladies of society, hence why your father married her
— now, you were following in her footsteps. there’s been much gossip about your unladylike behaviour but you didn’t care, all you needed were your parents’ love and the love of Katsuki. he still needed some more time to come around but you’re positive you’ll get to him soon enough
— you’re positive there’s a different gleam in his eyes whenever he looks towards you now. it had always been one of hatred when you were much younger but his expressions frequently soften around you nowadays.
— no matter how subtle it may be, you always notice
— many rumours circulated about you the first time you had shown your skills openly amongst the knighthood. it had first started with your knights who praised you highly but, as soon as those whisperings reached outside the dukedom, many noble ladies started to gossip about your misdemeanour.
— surprisingly, those rumours were shut down in under a week and you didn’t know why; usually such good gossip material stayed for months and only faded with the years so it was peculiar to have it die down so quickly
— what was suspicious was that, as soon as your rumours died down, stories about Katsuki surged forward.
— when you conversed with other people, they would say how horrible they feel for you having to marry such an aggressive and dislikable fiancee. they would then over-exaggerate all the belligerent and misunderstood characteristics of Bakugou, even making up disgusting rumours that painted him to be more villainous than he actually was.
— “how shameful,” you spat with disgust, glowering down at the noble ladies frozen in their seats, “how dare you openly gossip about my fiancee right in front of me, the nerve! you should know better than to act like such children. if you have nothing better to do then i suggest you leave the kirishima estate immediately and never expect to be invited back,”
— they tried to beg you for forgiveness, seeing as your father held such power in high society, being one of the four noble dukes of the kingdom serving directly under the king as they all had noble blood.
— nobody expected your father to marry you to a Baron’s son. Katsuki didn’t have a higher title than you but your fathers had gone to war together and remained loyal friends ever since, Baron Bakugou went on to acquire his title of Braon after his service in the war but many people still looked down on him from his commoner origins. to think that such educated ladies of high society would use that as leverage to gossip however they wished.
— word of your actions on behalf of Bakugou spread quickly and the two of you became a couple that shouldn’t be trifled with.
— after that day, you always defend Katsuki and never miss the opportunity to express how much you admire him and care for him even if he doesn’t tend to reciprocate it
— you do this when Katsuki’s friends make an appearance, they consisted of your brother, Eijiro, Denki of house Kaminari (son of Marquis Kaminari) and Hanta of house Sero (son of Marquis Sero).
— they usually don’t visit the estate but this time they decided to utilise the knights training grounds for extra duelling practice and happened to catch you just as you were walking out, having finished your own training
— as soon as introductions and polite greetings were exchanged, came the jokes and jives.
— “I wouldn’t blame you if you eloped with someone else on your wedding day, Lady (Y/N), knowing this guy’s attitude,” Denki snickers as he points his thumb at your fiancé, who growled lowly in return.
— “i wouldn’t dare do something like that because, even if this is an arranged marriage, Katsuki will be the only man for me” Katsuki didn’t expect you to be so forward and couldn’t help the blush that coated his cheeks from your response
— Denki whistled in a mix of astonishment and amusement, “Katsuki’s a lucky guy!”
— “he looks really happy to hear you say that too, sis,” Eijiro teased as Hanta grinned from beside him.
— “shut up! we came here to train so let's train already, you dumbasses!”
— the days go by and life is good; the quicker your wedding day approaches the kinder and gentler Katsuki treats you. it wasn’t until the kindness you practiced with everyone you met, no matter their status, became something more in the twisted mind of an unknown individual that you encountered within city streets, while out shopping
— one act of kindness made the stranger crave for your touch and sought you out in the most deviant method. he sent constant letters multiple times a day and even mailed one with his most intimate item of clothing, not only that but he always stood at the gates of your estate, waiting for it to be opened just to slip in and try to meet you again
— of course, he didn’t get far because of the security brought on by your dukedom’s talented knights stopped him at every devious attempt. each incident was reported directly to your brother, who was training to inherit the duchy as soon as your father retired
— Eijiro was having none of it and devised the best plan of action he could, knowing that his image as the heir of the dukedom needed to be thought of so that his people wouldn’t be against him when he took over his capable father’s place. he resisted the urge for an immediate confrontation to plan with you, about how you wanted to defuse the situation
— however, as soon as word got to Bakugou, he ran over on foot to confront the man at your estate, just as Eijiro came down with a squadron of knights and you at his side
— lost in his own world, your stalker immediately reached out for you the instant he caught sight of your figure. on his face, he had a twisted smile and manic eyes, his breathing became heavy as if to savour the same air you breathed not too far away from him. it was frighting and chilling to see such an unhinged man. he was so deranged, he didn’t mind the swords and pointed glares directed at him by all that were present and Katsuki, who was fast approaching from behind
— “Get. Away. From. Her!” Katsuki shouted in anger as he drew his sword and slashed at the young man, making you jump back with a gasp.
— “Bakugou!” Kirishima warned as he pulled you into his chest for protection from the clashing of swords
— “Katsuki, be careful!” you cried. confronting someone with such an unstable mind could go horribly wrong and no matter how skilled your fiancee was, you couldn’t help but worry
— Even though this was the first time Katsuki ever showed his feelings for you in such a dramatic gesture, the worry you had for him consumed your joy as his opponent drew out his own sword and started lashing out with worse coordination than your junior knights.
— what he lacked with technique, however, he made up for in agility as well as his own unpredictability. it made it hard for Katsuki to predict the path of his opponent’s sword so for a time, he was constantly dodging his blade. it didn’t take long, however, for the game of endurance and stamina to come into play and slow down his opponent enough for him to fight back with more accuracy.
— “you revolting rat!” Katsuki growled swinging his sword with might only to grind his teeth when his sword is narrowly dodged. not one to give up, however, he goes in once again and finally lands a hit that forces your stalker to crumble to his knees, “you try and pull that shit with (Y/N) again and I’ll be doing more than just beating you to the ground,” it was an obvious win for the blonde.
— “And what would that be?” your stalker still had fight in him that came off as more irritating than anything else Bakugou had ever encountered in his life of servitude as a royal knight and baron’s son.
— just to prove his point, whatever it may be, Katsuki goes to stand beside you and pull you into his chest with his large hand at your waist
— “landing your ugly, disgusting ass in a fucking coffin!” the venom in his voice was evident and it made you shudder, curling up into his chest for comfort, not knowing that the next words he’d shout would have your knees weaker than any training could ever do, “(Y/N) is MY Fiancee! you touch her and I’ll kill you!”
n a v i . | bnha mlist
379 notes
·
View notes
Note
What titles (royalty/noblility) do you think Erzsi would have had? Or how would she have been addressed? How does one even say something like Miss/Lady Hungary in Hungarian?
Good question! Hungarian nobility can get confusing though, as there are many variants, but the hierarchy is pretty much the same as elsewhere.
Nobility titles in Hungarian:
Aristocrats
(Had the largest estates and lands)
Prince/Princess / Duke/Duchess - Herceg/Hercegnő
Marquis/Marquess - Márki/Márkiné? (not used in Hungary)
Baron/Baroness - Báró/Bárónő
Count/Countess - Gróf/Grófnő
Middle class nobles
(They don’t have individual titles, nobility comes with their jobs, they had some larger estates and lands)
Főispán - leader of the county (vármegye)
Alispán - deputy of the főispán
Táblabíró - main judge in the county
Szolgabíró - judge in the smaller districts of the county, and also judge of the nobility
Országgyűlési képviselő - a delegate to the parliament (diéta) from the county
Lower class nobles
-no title shows up in their name
-just slightly higher in status than commoners
-had industrial/middle class jobs (tailor, smith...etc)
-had more land than a villein/peasant
The word ‘nő’ means ‘woman’, so whenever these titles come up you add ‘nő’ and it will refer to the female counterpart. Important note though, ‘nő’ means individual woman, but if she is a wife, then you add ‘né’ which refers to her married status.
Example:
Bárónő - a baroness (either unmarried, widowed or along these lines)
Báróné - a baroness (married woman, wife of the baron)
It’s easy to spot ex-noble family names in Hungary as they usually end with a ‘y’. Like Hungary’s human name ‘Héderváry’. This could be written as ‘Hédervári’ and it would still be accurate, it would just change her status from noble to commoner.
How to adress women and men in high status:
Miss - Kisasszony
Mrs - Asszony
Mr - Úr
(Young) Mr - Úrfi
Lady - Hölgy (never used as a title/adress before or after the name)
Sir - Úr (never used as a title/adress before the name)
Ladies and gentlemen - Hölgyeim és uraim
Examples with Hungary’s name:
Héderváry kisasszony - referring to her as a young, unmarried woman
Edelstein asszony/Edelsteinné - referring to her as a married woman (I used Austria’s family name for reasons, duh)
Héderváry úr - referring to him as a grown up man in high status
Héderváry úrfi - referring to him as a young man in high status who is not independent from his family yet
To get their attention:
My Lady - Hölgyem
Sir - Uram
What title would Hungary have? I imagine her in a middle-class noble status. She is closer to the common folk that way, but her status is high enough to allow her a say in higher circles.
But these titles and addresses mean nothing in modern times anymore. :/
I hope I answered your question! ^-^
(I’ll edit this if something more comes to my mind.)
#historical hetalia#q&a#zsocca#zsocca55#hungarian nobility#hungarian nobility titles#titles and adresses#examples included#i hope this isn’t too much information#i know it can get confusing#hetalia hungary
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happiness
Alexander Hamilton x Reader —> Lafayette x Reader
Hamiltime
Requested by anonymous
Request: 35 and 44 with Lafayette where the reader was Alex's wife but after the Pamphlet and Phillip Lafayette always offered her to visit him in France so she does and they eventually fall for each other and he helps her come to the decision of getting a divorce
35: “Do you think she could’ve loved me?”
44: “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
A/N: I want to reiterate that I usually don't write stories where cheating is involved. It only occurs in this story because Alexander is a problematic bitch and, as we know, actually cheated on his wife. There’s plenty of French in here in which I used Google Translate. Feel free to let me know if something is wrong or doesn’t make sense. It’s been a long time since I wrote a story in only a few days, so thank you for this request! I hope it’s good and that you enjoy!
Word Count: 4,568
~~
You hugged Lafayette tightly. The other guys stood back, each of you had been given a chance to say goodbye to Lafayette privately. "Don't tell them, but I will miss you most mademoiselle." Lafayette said with a fond smile. You had all agreed to try to be happy in this moment.
"I'm gonna miss you too. But I know you have to go back. You're going to save France after all." You said as you pulled back. "But this really sucks." You told him as you looked to the large boat behind him.
"I'll write as often as I can. Besides," he grabbed your left hand and lifted it up. The gold band glinted on your ring finger. "You have Monsieur Hamilton to keep you company Mrs. Hamilton." He said with another smile, pointedly saying your married name to get a smile and a blush from you. It worked.
"Yeah I do." You said. "But who am I going to spend time with while he works?"
“Hercules. Laurens. Any of the Schuylers." Lafayette rattled off.
"Ok, ok. But you're my favorite." You pouted.
Lafayette pulled you into one more hug. "You're my favorite too, mademoiselle."
You pulled back and wiped at your eyes, which were getting wet. The boys came and joined you and Lafayette. Alexander wrapped his arms around you from behind and held you close. You leaned back against him. Lafayette pointed a finger at Alexander. "You take good care of her, mon amie." He warned.
"Of course, Laf." He said.
"Très bien." He said. "Well...au revoir mes amies." He said. He was smiling but you could see he was masking some sorrow.
"Bye, Laf." John said with a wave. Alexander and Hercules gave similar farewells.
You couldn't even bring yourself to say anything, the risk of tears too great. So you waved. Lafayette seemed to understand and waved back.
You loved Alexander, there was no question there. But Lafayette was your best friend. He was the one who helped you navigate your feelings for Alexander. He was the one you confided in with everything. He was the first one to know you were pregnant. He knew everything and now he was leaving.
You watched the boat sail off with hot tears slipping down your cheeks. "Come on, Y/N. Let's go home." Alexander suggested. You nodded, not wanting to be at the docks any longer.
—
Lafayette wrote as promised but it was long stretches in between letters. But you enjoyed every one you got. Alexander got a position at Washington's side and was always busy. He gave you as much time as he could but he was often working. You had a son and named him James.
You were a perfect little family. Alexander was busy but was still there for you and involved in James' life. And you still loved him so much.
You flipped through the letters you got from the mailbox. You smiled as you saw you got one from Lafayette. You set all the other letters down on the kitchen table to read Lafayette's. Your grin widened and you raced to Alexander's study. "We have to go to Virginia." You said as you burst in.
"Why? You know I don't necessarily care for that state."
"Because, Lafayette is coming to the United States and that's where he's docking." You said while you held up the letter.
"I'm sure he'll come here and visit us." Alexander said with a smile. "Especially you." He tacked on the end.
"Me too, but who knows how short his stay is. And imagine how surprised he'd be if we met him there." You tried.
"He'd be thrilled." Alexander agreed. "But I just can't. This plan, I have to finish it."
Your smile fell. "Oh, that's right." You mumbled.
"You know, you could take James and go to Virginia." Alexander suggested.
"Really? You don't mind?"
"No. You're right, Laf would love to have us meet him there. And he hasn't met James either. And you really want to spend as much time as possible with him. So go. I'll be here and working. Then when Lafayette comes to visit, you accompany him back here." Alexander planned.
You beamed. "Thank you, Alexander!" You leaned forward and kissed him soundly.
"Anything for you, the best of wives and best of women."
—
You were thrilled the day you came to the dock and saw a large boat coming in to shore. James ran around the dock playing while you waited. You spied someone you knew, though not well. "Mr. Jefferson." You greeted pleasantly.
"Ah, Mrs. Hamilton." He was kind to you. You had spoken to him before. He said his feud was with your husband and not you. He also claimed to have heard great things about you prior to meeting you. That was a mystery you had yet to figure out. "What brings you to Virginia?" He asked.
"That boat," you pointed to it. "Has a very good friend aboard and I'm here to greet him."
"The Marquis." Jefferson said.
"You know Lafayette?" You asked.
"Who do you suppose I worked with to draft a declaration for France? Who do you suppose had only positive things to say about you?" Then it all clicked. It made perfect sense that Lafayette would know Jefferson and why he would dock here and not New York.
"Of course." You said with a smile.
"Is Alexander with you?" Thomas asked.
"No. He's working on his debt plan." You told Thomas with a pointed look. He knew what the look meant but could also tell you weren't really all the angry about it. That wasn't your fight. Thomas merely shrugged.
"Well I just can't imagine he left your side, someone as lovely as you. And he claims to be so smart." Thomas quipped.
"Thank you for caring so much about my marriage Thomas. But things are fine." You told him. Thomas raised his hands in surrender.
You shared light conversation with Thomas until the boat docked and people started to come off. Thomas must've spotted Lafayette before you did because he raised his hand above his head to catch someone's attention. Both men were much taller than you though, so you weren’t that surprised.
Lafayette appeared behind a few people. His eyes were trained on Thomas, he was approaching to shake his friend's hand. Then his gaze flicked over. He did a double take when he saw you. You smiled and waved. It was as if he forgot about Thomas completely and ran forward to wrap you in a hug. "Mon amie! I missed you so much!" He said as he held you. He pulled back. "I thought I wouldn't see you until I came to New York."
"I thought I'd surprise you."
Lafayette glanced around. "Where is Monsieur Hamilton?" He asked.
"He's home. He was too busy to come today." Some emotion other than joy flicked across Lafayette's face for just a second. "It's just me and..." You waved James over. "James. Lafayette, it's my pleasure to introduce you to James Hamilton. James, this is Lafayette, me and your father have told you about him before."
"Oh yeah!" James said in recognition. "You helped my dad get a battalion." James held out a hand.
Lafayette smiled. "Oui. And he led it well." Lafayette looked back to you. "He's a good kid."
"Yes he is."
"Hate to break up this reunion." Thomas suddenly said. "But I'm feeling rather invisible."
"Of course. Monsieur Jefferson." Lafayette finally greeted his friend.
Lafayette wanted to visit the Washington's while he was here. And you and Thomas accompanied him. You actually accompanied Lafayette everywhere he went. He was extremely understanding. He knew you went out of your way to surprise him. And he was equally excited to spend time with you as well. Lafayette also took it upon himself to teach James some French. He was becoming quite fluent in the language.
One day, you and him were getting lunch. You left James with a family you knew for a few hours to catch up with Lafayette. "I'm glad you came early mon amie. I wish Alexander was with you though."
"Yes, well Washington's cabinet has kept him fairly busy." You tried not to sound too upset about it.
Lafayette studied you. "Mademoiselle are things going ok?" He asked. You had forgotten how well Lafayette could read you.
You smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Things are fine, Laf." You reassured him. "You know how Alexander can be, desperate to rise. He's getting his chance. Of course he's going to work toward it."
"His station shouldn't matter if he has you." Lafayette said. You flushed red at the compliment. "He should be more concerned with making you happy than rising in his station."
"He does make me happy, Lafayette. Me and James mean the world to him. I know that." You told him.
"Ok, only if you're sure mon amie." Lafayette said. "Because you are my favorite." He said, smiling at the old joke. "So I will put your happiness over my friendship with Alexander."
"Luckily, I don't think you have to do that."
A few weeks later, you were home once more. Lafayette and Alexander slid right back into their former friendship. Unbeknownst to you, however, Lafayette did have a heated conversation with Alexander about his treatment of you. You weren't sure if it was that conversation or his guilt that made him be much more attentive of you for the next few years.
—
Lafayette could forgive a lot. He could. He was understanding. People screw up a lot. He had his fair share of screw ups. But this. This was one thing he wouldn't forgive. The news even made it to France.
The Reynolds Pamphlet.
—
You only mentioned it once. “I need to know, did you tell me to go to Virginia just so you could have this affair?” You had to know.
Alexander’s eyes widened. “No! Absolutely not! I didn’t plant this. But while you were in Virginia she just showed up and-” You held up a hand to stop him.
“I don’t want to know all the details, Alexander. I think I’m better off without them.”
Things between you and Alexander were tense. You knew there was gossip floating all around you. Lafayette still wrote to you. You noticed his letters to Alexander stopped. He kept you sane. He talked about other things. He didn't bring up the shame and embarrassment that was the only thing your family was currently known for. He knew of course. But he never mentioned it.
Divorce was an option. But was that any better? James' family would be split. People would still talk. Gossip would only be worse. For your son's sake mostly, you stayed. The gossip was lessened when people saw the Hamilton family was still together. But that was in public. In private, life was very different.
You and Alexander ate meals at different times. Alexander practically lived in a guest room now. You barely spoke to each other. Friends knew some of what life had become like. Lafayette knew everything.
By the time the scandal became public, James was a young man. You couldn't shelter him from it. He knew exactly as you did. He never mentioned it either. However, he knew as a Hamilton that he should stand up for his family. He always had the same pride as his father, if not more.
Which is what led to you sobbing against your son's motionless chest. Alexander was breaking down beside you. He put a hand on your shoulder and you roughly shook it off. You didn't want his comfort and he didn't deserve any from you. You glared at him as tears ran down your cheeks. "This is your fault." You growled. A low blow certainly. But there was truth to it. "He was defending you. The man who cheated on his mother and declared the affair to the world. And he still defended you."
Life at home got even worse. The house seemed darker without your son. You weren't sure if Alexander was actively avoiding you or not, but you practically never saw him anymore. It was isolating and lonely. During this time, you sent your shortest letter ever to Lafayette.
“James was killed in a duel.”
You didn't add details or anything. You weren't sure you could dwell on the information right now. You were sure Lafayette had questions, he had to. He was probably upset as well. James began writing to Lafayette when he returned to France, referred to him as an uncle. A title that Lafayette wore with more pride than Marquis. But all the same, you received the shortest letter you ever got from Lafayette.
“Come visit, mon amie.”
Alexander noticed the suitcases in the living room. He knocked on the door. "I'm uh...I'm just wondering about the uh suitcases." He mumbled.
"I'm going to France for a while."
"Gonna go run to Lafayette?" He accused. "God, the two of you were always too close."
You dropped the dress you were folding and marched right up to him. You stated him down. "At least I never slept with him." You snarled. Alexander said nothing more and left you to pack. He didn't even tell you goodbye as you left.
—
The long boat ride wasn't bad. It wasn't anymore lonely than your home right now. And as soon as your feet were back on dry land, you were wrapped in Lafayette's arms. You started feeling tears form. "Lafayette, could we perhaps go back to your home so I don't have an emotional break down here in front of everyone."
"Of course mon amie." He said. He carried the two large bags you brought despite your protests. Lafayette showed you to his house, a large and impressive home. He put your bags in the guest room. He gave you one look and you ran to him, held him close, and sobbed against him. Weeks, months, and years of hurt being poured out. You had no one to comfort you since Alexander made his affair public. And it seemed Lafayette knew that.
He ran his fingers through your hair. He whispered reassurance and comfort in two languages. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through ma cherie." He said. My darling. You knew what it meant. And you didn't say anything about it. You had gotten more affection from Lafayette's letters in the past few years than your own husband.
You found yourself in Lafayette's parlor and a strong drink in your hands as you sat next to Lafayette on a couch. He had a fire going in a fireplace in front of you. You just stared at the fire wondering how your life and gone up in smoke the same way.
"Ma cherie, I was wondering something?" Lafayette was anxiously fiddling with his drink.
"What?" You asked before taking a sip of your drink.
"Why are you and Hamilton still married? Divorce is an option." He said.
You sighed and glanced at the ring. You took another sip. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Laf. Even assholes I guess."
Lafayette was silent for a moment before he roughly slammed his glass down on the end table beside the couch. Luckily it didn't shatter. But it did pull your gaze to him immediately. "How many second chances does he get?" He asked. "Working rather than being with you for one. And his infidelity should be unforgivable enough. But when it leads to the death of-" A harsh sob stopped his sentence. He took a deep breath. His voice still wavered when he said, "Mon amie, he is out of second chances. Please, put your happiness first. Don't let him hurt you again."
"I don't even know where to start with all of that. And he was a lawyer. He'll have everything and I'll have nothing when this is over." You said.
"I'll help you through it ma cherie. And you won't have nothing. You'll have me. You are welcome to stay with me for as long as you need. You shouldn't have to stay with him." Lafayette said. "I can't stand to see you hurt again. You've been through enough."
—
A divorce that was happening across two countries was long. It boiled down to splitting things. Lafayette told you to ask only for things like clothing, family heirlooms, and anything that was obviously yours. Everything else, he could replace for you. You didn't need the house, you were staying in France indefinitely. You didn't have children to worry about. Not anymore. And Alexander agreed to the terms. Now you were waiting for finalizing papers and your things to get shipped to France.
While you were technically still married, you and Lafayette fell right back into your usual closeness. If not more than before. He used more pet names that just 'mon amie' now. And you liked hearing them so you never stopped them. You would accompany Lafayette to political functions, almost as a date. But you always said friends since you were still married. Though you avoided your tainted married name as much as possible. Lafayette seemed to take every chance to wrap you in a hug and you equally sought out years worth of comfort and affection from him.
One night, Lafayette returned from a dinner you couldn't attend. It happened on occasion. He was past tipsy and entering drunk. It had been a long time since he had gotten this drunk, but you remembered the days well and remembered them fondly. "Ok, let's get you to bed." You said almost as soon as he entered his house.
"I want to stay up with you ma belle." He said.
"Nope. Bed." You ordered, ignoring the drunk compliment.
You helped Lafayette get ready for bed. You were tucking the covers of his bed over him when he grabbed your wrist and looked at you seriously. "I have the best amie ever." He said.
You smiled. "Oh yeah?"
"Oui. Not only that but she is so jolie." Pretty. Was he talking about you? He was talking as if it a person not present. He released your wrist and made himself comfortable in the bed. "We've been friends for a looong time." He drug out the "o" sound. "I write letters to her a lot. But she's usually triste about something." Sad. So he was talking about you. "Her husband is a trou de cul." Your eyes widened. Lafayette rarely cursed in front of you. Said it wasn't proper to do so. But he just called Alexander an asshole. Which wasn't wrong. "I just want her to be happy. I hope I make her happy."
You smiled at that. Deciding to indulge him you said, "Trust me Laf, you make her really happy."
He beamed. "Really?" You nodded. "Do you think she could have loved me?” He asked innocently.
Love? You said the first thing that came into your mind, surprised that it was the truth. "I don't know."
"I hope so. J'aime Y/N." He mumbled before seeming to fall asleep. Apparently the two of you needed to have an important talk.
—
When you heard faint noises from Lafayette's room the next morning, you made two steaming cups of tea. You sat at the table, sipping yours. Lafayette trudged from his room looking very disheveled. He spied the steaming cup and gave you a thankful smile. And the adoration in that smile warmed your heart. He sat down and started drinking it.
"How do you feel?" You asked.
He groaned. "I haven't drank that much since before America's revolution." He said. "I feel terrible."
"You were pretty drunk." You commented.
Lafayette cringed, prepared for the worst. "How bad was I?"
You smiled a little. "You started telling me about your best friend. Me." You told him.
He chuckled. "Well you are my meilleur ami." He said. "What did I say about you? Hopefully nothing bad."
"Not really. You said I was pretty." Lafayette nodded like that was an obvious fact. “You said we were friends for a long time. You write me a lot. And that I'm usually sad about something, which is unfortunately pretty true." Lafayette reached out and grabbed your hand. "You said my husband is an asshole." You told him with a smirk knowing that might be the worst one.
His eyes widened. "Mom amie, je suis désolé." He said quickly.
You squeezed his hand to get him to stop before he started rambling. "Again, that is unfortunately pretty true." Lafayette brushed his thumb over the backs of your knuckles, a soothing motion. "You said that you hope you make me happy. And I reassured you that you do." Lafayette beamed once more at hearing it a second time. "And, Laf..." You paused. He looked at you expectantly. "You asked if I love you." His grip on your hand went slack and fell from your grip as his eyes widened and he slowly leaned back away from you. "Because you said you love me."
"Merde." He grumbled and stood and started to pace. "Je suis désolé, Y/N." He said.
"That's all you have to say?" You asked.
He looked at you a shrugged hopelessly. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know." You mumbled.
He sighed and dropped beside you. "I'm sure you want to move out now."
"And go where?" You asked. "I mean, I'll leave if you want me to but I think I want to stay here."
"You do? Even knowing...that?" He asked.
You grabbed his hand again. "Yes. Especially knowing that. Last night, when you asked me I told you I didn't know. But Lafayette, I think I might love you too."
"Might?" He asked.
You looked down at your hand, where a gold band still sat. "Yeah, things are confusing right now. But the one thing I know, is that you are the most important person in my life and I don't know what I would do without you."
Lafayette leaned over and kissed you. You sighed into it. You clutched his coat and tried pulling him closer. It had been so damn long and you wanted this. The way his hands so gently moved to the back of your head and the small of your back was full of adoration and affection. He was savoring every moment and so were you.
Then you snapped back to reality and pulled away quick. You were still married.
Lafayette was panting and staring at you. You were breathing deeply as well. "What's wrong ma cherie?" He asked and approached you.
"Lafayette, I'm still technically married." You said.
"Oh mademoiselle, it'll will be void soon."
"No." You said. "I'm not going to be as bad as Alexander. He can be as unfaithful as he likes. I will be a loyal wife while I'm married. Well, if you don't count that amazing make out session." You mumbled.
Lafayette smirked. "Amazing?" He asked. He pulled you into a hug, and you allowed it. That was safe.
"Yes, amazing. And I think waiting will make it even better next time." You said.
Lafayette groaned. "I hope so. It better be worth it." Then he kissed the top of your head. A little more dangerous but he used to do that when you were friends. "But you are always worth it.”
—
A few weeks passed. You and Lafayette waited, wanting to cross that line again but refraining from it. Then you got a letter from Alexander. Formalized divorce papers. Inside was a short note from Alexander.
“I’m sorry.”
You scoffed. He was sorry? You doubted he knew the meaning of the word. But you were single now. You slid the ring off your finger and into an envelope. She added a note of your own too.
“So am I.”
You sent the envelope off and let that be the end of your connection to Alexander. In truth, you would never need to see him again. He was in the United States, you were in France. You wanted no connection to him. Once you received your possession, which John Laurens had been kind enough to agree to send you (he agreed Alexander pulled a dick move with the affair), you would be done with Alexander.
How early was it to start dating someone new? Then again, how many people in France actually knew about your life in the Untied States considering you rarely told anyone your married name. You were constantly seen with Lafayette anyway when you were out in town. And, maybe not in an official sense, how long had your marriage with Alexander been over? Living in the same house didn’t mean you were married. The two of you shared a home, a child, and a last name. That was it.
What did you and Lafayette share? A long held affection for each other. Possibly love. A friendship that was impossible to sever, even when he was an ocean away. A desire to protect and care for one another. Even before your marriage with Alexander ended, you had practically started a new one with Lafayette.
When Lafayette got home, as soon as he closed the front door you pushed him against it and pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened for a moment before his arms came around you and pulled you even closer. He hummed against your lips. Without breaking from his lips, you pulled his hair free of his ponytail so you could bury your hands in his curls.
You eventually pulled away to gasp in a few breaths. Lafayette let his head thump back against the door, panting heavily as well. “Ma cherie, not that I’m ever going to complain about that but…Monsieur Hamilton?” He asked. You held your left hand and wiggled your fingers. No gold band rested on your ring finger.
“I got the paperwork today. I’m officially single.” You told him.
He scoffed and wrapped arm around your waist to pull you closer. “You aren’t single if I have anything to say about it.”
“Lafayette, are you asking to court me?” You asked and titled your head with feigned confusion.
“You know full well ma cherie, that is exactly what I’m doing.” He said and kissed your forehead. “Y/N, I can’t replace everything you’ve lost.” He said. “But I will do everything I can to make you as happy as possible from here on out.”
You smiled at him. “Lafayette, long before my marriage fell apart I think you were the only thing in my life, besides James, that made me happy. And once I lost him, you were the only thing I had left. So when you offered to let me stay with you, I had to accept. Because I knew you were the only thing that would keep me sane and happy after everything I went through.”
Lafayette ran his fingers slowly through your hair. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I wasn’t lying, when I said je t'aime Y/N.”
“I know Lafayette. I’m not sure if I’m ready to say I love you. I did literally just get divorced. But I do know that you are the most important person to me. I care about you so much and I need you to be in my life.”
“Then that is where I’ll be.”
#hamilton imagine#lafayette#marquis de Lafayette#lafayette x reader#lafayette imagine#marquis de lafayette x reader
275 notes
·
View notes
Text
All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 20
December 19th - Part 2
It was a beautiful day at the Christmas Festival. It was held in a closed off chunk of downtown. Every year, with all the fun and activities, it kept growing bigger and bigger.
What started as a group of seven changed as they made their way around the festival grounds. The boys found their friends and drifted away.
Jasmine, Serena and DeeDee led the charge while Marquis and Erik just followed. They had just finished decorating ornaments and putting them on one of the Christmas trees. There was still time before the big tree in the Center was lit, so they decided to go on a few rides. They headed down Main street and walked toward the Ferris Wheel.
“So, peppermint hot chocolate anyone?” Serena bumped DeeDee’s shoulder. “Who wants some?”
“Uh sure, I could go for some.” DeeDee said.
“Can I get a coffee instead?” Erik asked, “And maybe some cookies.”
“Yeah, we’ll go get it.” Serena grabbed DeeDee. “Ya’ll go get in line.”
“Here baby,” Marquis folded some money into Serena’s other hand. “We’ll take Jazzie.”
“Thank you dear.”
Jasmine reached out for Erik and DeeDee, who was holding her, handed her over. He lightly squeezed DeeDee’s hand before lifting Jasmine out of her arms.
“We’ll be back.” She mumbled as Serena dragged her away.
---
DeeDee walked quietly beside Serena. They approached the hot chocolate stand and waited in line.
“Breathe girl, it’s not that serious.” Serena tapped her arm with the money.
“I don’t know what you are gonna ask and it’s making me nervous.”
“Fine. I want to know about your connection to Dr. Stevens. Whatever you want to share. Take your time.”
“I like him.” DeeDee blurted out.
“Yeah, that’s a given. You are just as smiley around him as Jazzie is.”
“Reena, how did you know you were in love with Marquis?”
Serena stared at her, “Wow, I was not expecting that.” They got up to the front. “Hold that thought.”
Serena placed the order and linked DeeDee’s arms with hers. They moved to the side and waited for their names to be called.
“Love, huh?”
“I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.” DeeDee sighed. “I mean you know him. Can you blame me?”
“I do know him but clearly not in the way you do.” Serena tugged on DeeDee’s arm, “What do you think about him?”
“Do you know how I found him?”
“You mean how you told Quis that you found one of his articles while doing some last minute research for your dissertation?”
DeeDee nodded and laughed.
“Or the real one, where you found his note about the kind of love he wanted in life?” Serena smiled at DeeDee’s shocked expression.
“He told Marquis about that?”
“Yeah, he did, eventually.”
“So, then Marquis knew about me and him talking and stuff?”
“Yeah, but not before he gave you his book.” Serena shook her head, “Men.”
Their order was called and they walked over to the toppings table.
While DeeDee added crushed candy canes to her and Jazzie’s hot chocolate, Serena popped the top to Erik’s coffee.
“Oh, you can put that back on. He likes it black.”
“Does he now?” Serena put the top back on it and sat it down in front of DeeDee, “The Erik I knew drowned his coffee in sugar.”
“That’s what the cookies are for.” DeeDee put the top back on her drink and took a sip, “I mean, I guess.”
“Nah, say it with your chest.” Serena bumped her, “You know how your man likes his drink.”
“He’s not my man.”
“Yet.”
They grabbed all the drinks and the bag of cookies, then made their way to the Ferris Wheel.
“Look, you asked how I knew Marquis was it for me. It was the way he made me feel. He became my best friend and supported me in everything. There was never a moment where I had to question his feelings for me. He showed me and made sure I knew it. So, when I fell, I never once looked back.”
Serena stopped DeeDee short of where the others waited for them.
“Do not fight your feelings, DeeDee. If you feel strongly for him. You should let him know. He’ll tell you he feels the same way or let you go, so you can find someone who deserves it.”
“I’m afraid, Serena. I’ve never felt this way before.”
“And I bet you can tell him that, too.”
Marquis walked over to them, “Let me help with that.” He took a drink and the cookies from them.
“Thanks Marquis.”
“No problem.” He held his arm out for Serena to latch onto.
“You’ll find your way hun.” She linked her arm with Marquis’.
DeeDee followed behind them as Marquis led them to the line.
“Quis, this isn’t for the Ferris Wheel.” Serena spoke up.
“Yeah, Jazzie saw that they were doing boat rides and wanted to go on one instead.”
They both looked at him.
“You know her Godfather couldn’t say no to his princess.” He mocked.
All three laughed as they approached Erik and Jazzie in line.
---
“Did you add the candy canes?” Jasmine took the cup offered from DeeDee.
“Of course, it wouldn’t be our peppermint hot chocolate without them.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome dear.”
Jasmine walked up towards her parents.
DeeDee handed Erik his coffee. “Here you go, Uncle E.”
“Thank you, Miss DeeDee.” He took a sip, “Black. How did you know?”
“I pay attention.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate.
“To the little things.” He looked at her, “I like that.”
“Do you want a cookie, Uncle E?” Jasmine turned around with the bag in her hands.
“Yes, please. Do you have any snickerdoodles in there?”
“I think so.” She looked at DeeDee, “Is there?”
“Yes, there should be a few. Let’s find them for him.”
Jasmine rolled down the paper bag and DeeDee pointed at a couple on the top.
“How many did you want?”
“Can I get 3?”
Jasmine took a napkin and picked up the cookies, “Here you go.” She looked at DeeDee. “You want one?”
“No, thank you sweetheart.”
---
They got on the boat. Serena and Marquis on one side and Jasmine, DeeDee and Erik facing them from the other end. Jasmine wanted to be close to Erik, so she sat in between them.
5 minutes riding up the lake along the swampbed, and Jasmine was out. She leaned up against Erik who moved her head to his lap and DeeDee raised her legs to lie across her own.
“I hate that they make it look so natural.” Serena loudly whispered to Marquis.
“Right, like it was a no-brainer to lay her completely flat instead of up against him.”
“Stop that.” Erik spoke up.
“What? We’re just making an observation.” Marquis said.
“Exactly. It took us 3 kids to do what you two just naturally did.” Serena huffed.
“Anything you want to tell us. Either of you?”
“Yeah, you got some kids we don’t know about?” Marquis and Serena started to laugh.
“Will you two just enjoy the ride?”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t be making this much noise if she was awake.” DeeDee whispered across to them.
“Sure, we would.” They said in unison.
Erik looked over at DeeDee. “Are you having fun?”
“I am. It’s nice to have someone to share Jazzie duties with. She can be quite the handful.” DeeDee gently rubbed her back as the boat picked up speed.
“No problem. I definitely don’t get to see her like I should.”
“Oh, when was the last time you saw her?”
“She was two and they came to visit me in Cali.”
“Ahhh, so this visit was long overdue then?”
Erik grabbed DeeDee’s hand, “Do not try to downplay things, DeeDee.”
DeeDee just sighed.
“I think I would have met you this week, all things considered.”
“How do you figure that?” DeeDee looked at Erik.
“Clearly, I have a relationship with multiple people in your life.” He stroked his finger across the palm of her hand. “Marquis and his family, the chemistry faculty and your great-grandmother.”
“I guess, you have a point. Those are three of the most important parts of my life right now.”
“Besides, we share a goddaughter.” He lifted her hand to his lips, “It’s like we already have a child together.”
DeeDee exploded with giggles and immediately covered her mouth, so as not to wake up Jazzie. The little girl didn’t budge after the outburst but all the adults broke into laughter.
“I take back everything I said.” Serena looked at DeeDee. “I had such high hopes for you.”
DeeDee shook her head, “I blame him.” She poked Erik in the chest.
“I didn’t do anything.” He tried to appear shocked and appalled.
“E, what did you just tell her?” Marquis asked.
“I may have said something about us basically having a child together.” He reached back over for DeeDee’s hand.
“Oh, that’s real classy Erik. No wonder she laughed at you.” Serena slapped Marquis who started laughing again.
“Oh, it landed as it should. I have no doubt about that.” He kissed her hand again.
DeeDee shivered as she watched his eyes smolder.
---
When they got off the boat, Erik carried Jasmine on his right side and held DeeDee’s left hand.
The boys were waiting for all of them at the exit ramp. They texted Marquis and Serena while they were still on the water.
They headed over to where the big Christmas tree lighting was. Jasmine stayed asleep the whole time, clinging to Erik as he held her.
The group was leaving the festival when DeeDee remembered that she hadn’t taken many pictures with her camera.
She asked Serena to take some random shots, and she was all too happy to take a picture of the Godfamily as well.
“You have a beautiful family, man.” A passerby clapped Erik on the back while they set up for the picture.
Erik squeezed DeeDee’s hand when she looked away. He released it and brought her into his side.
Serena took the picture along with a few more of their interactions on the way back to the cars.
---
Erik helped DeeDee out of the car and went to get Jasmine out of her carseat. He gave her a kiss on the forehead before he handed her over to Marquis.
They said their goodbyes outside and then it was just Erik and DeeDee outside. He learned on the passenger side of his rental and DeeDee stood next to her driver’s side door.
“Did you have fun today?” DeeDee asked him.
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I have attended one of those. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
“I bet it is much bigger than you remember.”
“It is, I never would have imagined boats as part of it, but that was a nice addition this year.”
“Yeah, I liked it.” She stepped closer to him. “Erik, what are you doing for Christmas since you’ll be here?”
“I haven’t made any plans yet. Why?”
“Would you like to spend it with me and my family?”
Erik stood up and reached for her hands, “I would love that.”
Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama @killmonger-fics @beautifullmelodyxx @raysunshine78 @fd-writes @ljstraightnochaser @just-peachee @kaleidoscopeofsoul @sincerelykas
#25 days of christmas challenge#erik killmonger x oc#black panther fanfiction#bp christmas#all i want#thadelightfulone
50 notes
·
View notes
Note
“Please…I need you” for Ben/André
Of course! This is based off of and from the episode "Trial and Execution" (s3, ep. 10 in Turn: Washington's Spies.) and some of it my own imagination. I'm using a transcript of the episode to help me with this because I remember very clearly Andre and Tallmadge having a conversation in the carriage in the episode but I couldn't remember the exact words. If you'd like me to do a ficlet for your favorite amrev ship, send me a prompt with your ship and I'll try my best to make a ficlet of it!
***
Congress still refuses to pay me.
John Andre's coming here.
In exchange for 20,000 pounds, I shall transfer to you the plans for West Point.
Arnold's a traitor.
~~~
The accused, Nathan Hale, having been found guilty of espionage and treasonous conspiracy against His Majesty King George III, shall here by be executed as a spy on this day the 22nd of October, 1776. If the condemened has any last words. Let him speak now.
I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.
~~~
Major Benjamin Tallmadge shoots upright in his cot in his tent, his bright blue eyes wide and jaw slacked slightly. The bedsheets drape around his waist and he huffs and puffs as he sucks in gulps of air, blinking the dots he sees in his eyes. Still trying to catch his breath, Tallmadge clenches and unclenches his fists on the linen sheets as he glances around his surroundings. He begins to relax, his breathing much slower and calmer, as he realizes where he is. Tallmadge squeezes his eyes shut and bits his lip hard, hard enough for it to draw a small drop of blood. He swallows thickly and grimace as though a hand were clenching around his throat and it'd be difficult for him swallow. He lets out a shaky breath and blinks his eyes fast as he sits himself up agianst the pillows surrounding him. He feels his heart racing, fast as a lightning strike during a storm. He feels the hairs on the back of his neck tingle and his arms shake. His fingers twitches and he flops back down onto the pillows, his golden blonde hair untied from its standard tight braid.
He stares up ast the tent's ceiling, letting his arms drop and dangle on either side of his bed as he begins to be calm once more. His breathing now steady and his heart rate somewhat slowed, Tallmadge sits himself back up once more, running a hand through his hair as he lets an arm drape over his propped up knee.
It's quiet, Tallmadge thinks to himself. He frowns, swinging his legs around and grimacing when his feet touches the grass, still damp from the early morning's dew. He furrows his brows as he glances out at the small crack of the entranceway to his tent. Too quiet.
Tallmadge pushes himself up, straightens his bed and walks over to the wooden chair at the desk nearby where a couple of unfinished corrospondences are still laid upon the desk, his uniform draped over the back of the chair. Tallmadge huffs out a breath as he slips on his white shirt, adjusting the ruffled cuffs and buttons and tying his neck cloth and cravat rather quickly, his fingers fumbling over themseleves. He fixes his hair into a tight braid before slipping on his blue Continental coat.
Tallmadge gives himself a quick glance in the mirror and nods his head in approval once, his jaw clenched, before stepping out into the open, the flaps to the tent flapping behind him as he exits. He glances up at the sky, an overcast sky, and lets his eyes take a moment to adjust. Tallamdge jerks when he hears someone whistle, trying to get a horse's attention perhaps.
Tallmadge follows the noise until he sees General Washington and Colonel Alexander Hamilton along with the Marquis de Lafayette standing nearby. Tallmadge walks up to them, his back straight when he locks eyes with the General.
"Ah, Major Tallmadge," the General says, his voice gruff and smooth. Deep and raw at the same time. "Morning."
Tallmadge nods and bows respectfully before standing up straight again. "Morning, Your Excellency, sir."
"You do remember what occurs today, correct?" the General asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tallmadge expectedly.
Tallmadge grimaces and nods, swallowing hard as he remembers Hale. He licks his lips and grips his hands behind his back. "Yes, sir."
"We shall see you there," the General says.
Tallmadge nods again but doesn't reply as he watches the trio turn swiftly, their cloaks flapping along against the back of their legs as they disappear around the corner. Tallmadge closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath.
Oh, Nathan...
Is the last thing he thinks.
~~~
"Major Tallmadge," a smooth, elegant and rather light British voice says suddenly nearby as Tallmadge now stands next to a carriage, waiting. He ticks his eyes towards a man, a young man who happens to be in his late twenties to early thirties with smooth, combed back dark brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, a braid behind his ear. A rounded chin and hooked nose, a thin smile and laugh lines on his cheeks. His uniform is clearly distinct, as it is a bright red indiciating his loyalty to the British. He smiles and nods once as he approaches Tallamdge. "Allow me to say that it is an honor to properly meet your aquaitance."
Tallmadge frowns, his brows furrowed as he presses his lips together. He swallows again and keeping his eyes trained on Andre with his jaw clenched, he forces a smile to appear and nods in greeting. Tallmadge steps aside as he watches Andre climb up the steps into the carriage and sits himself down. Tallmadge follows and watches a servant closes the door before walking around them. Tallmadge turns to face Andre once more. Andre grins as he pulls out a crumbled paper and charcoal and begins to sketch a rough line in what Tallmadge must think is the beginning of the subject's eye.
"Did you study portraiture back in Europe?" Tallmadge asks.
Andre ticks his eyes up from the paper and smiles thinly. "I did."
Tallmadge watches as he begins to sketch out the right eye. He bites the inside of his cheek, wondering what to say now.
"I wonder if you might indulge in my curiosity" Andre says suddenly, breaking the silence as the carriage begins to move. "Do you remember when you first heard my name?"
"Oh, I remember it well," Tallmadge says, keeping his eyes on the paper, watching the pieces come together. "It was a brisk Thursday, January, '77. Mr. Nathaniel Sackett, a friend of mine, he was telling me how he had managed to place a man within your inner circle posing as a Coldstream Guard.” He grits his teeth and curls his fists in his lap. “That man was later killed by a knife, as was Mr. Sackett.”
Andre pauses his work and presses his lips together before glancing up at Tallmadge. “I would like you to accept my apology for Mr. Sackett. My orders for Lietuenant Gamble were to avoid violence at all costs.”
Tallmadge eyes Andre before nodding once. “I accept.”
A pause.
“Though, I will not apologize for the punishment Lietuenant Gamble recieved of any kind,” Andre says. “Gamble knew well the risk of our particular business.”
“I suppose Sackett knew the risks as well,” Tallmadge says. I must say that he was quite impressed with the ruse that you concocted with Sutherland and Shanks.” A pause. Tallmadge scoffs mixed with a laugh. “ A master stroke, he would have called it.”
Andre hums, dotting something onto the paper. “Hardly.”
Tallmadge swallows, watching the man across from him. He bites his lip, seeing the twinkle in the dark brown irises, the sharp cut of his jaw, the braid behind his ear, the thinness of his lips, a blush pink. Tallmadge clears his throat, blinking his eyes.
“I sometimes wonder if Sackett would have seen right through Benedict Arnold,” Tallmadge says, attempting conversation once more.
Andre frowns and clenches onto the charocal. “Arnold was a faliure.” He looks up. “Culper is the master stroke. Seeing as I’m about to take a vow of enternal silence, who was the Culper contact in New York City?”
Tallmadge narrows his eyes, clenching his fist and jaw and glances out the window, blinking his eyes. The vision of Hale before him, his Hale, his dear Hale, flashes right in front of his eyes before he could stop himself. He clearly sees the flaxen blonde hair, almost white, a glimspe of icy, cold blue eyes, the rough feel of pale skin against his. Tallamdge shakes his head befoer turning back to Andre, who has an eyebrow raised mostly out of concern.
“I had...had a classmate in Yale College,” Tallmadge says, “by the name of Nathan Hale. I followed him into the army of ‘76. He was tracked and caught by Robert Rogers and...” Tallmadge lets out a shuddering breath and lifts a shoulder. “Subsequently hanged as a spy...”
“And do you think his case and mine are alike?” Andre wonders.
Tallmadge’s expression is blank, passive. “He did his duty for his country. You did yours for your king.”
“Then I want you to know I see honor in both.”
“Then you are mistaken.”
Andre sighs and glances out the window, staring at his reflection as he watches the trees blur together as they roll by before glancing back down at the paper and smiles softly before glancing up at Tallmadge. “I didn’t do it for the king. I did it for a woman. That is the loss I regret more so than my own life.”
Tallmadge doesn’t reply. He watches Andre fold the paper up and stuff it into his pocket along with the piece of charocal. He smiles thinly, a warm smily as an idea clicks into his brain. Andre reaches behind towards his braid behind his ear and grabs hold of the end of it. He pulls out a pocket knife and chops off a small piece before tucking the knife back into his pocket and grabbing Tallmadge’s wrist and placing the small piece of braided hair into his palm. He stares at it in shock and confusion before glancing back up at Andre.
But Andre only smiles and glances out the window.
~~~
Major John Andre climbs out of the carriage first once they have arrived at their destination, followed by Tallmadge himself. A servant slams the door shut. Tallmadge checks the ropes binding Andre's wrists in front of him before guiding him towards the tree where his fate lies. Tallmadge tenses as he appraoches slowly, swallowing the bile he feels rising up down his throat. He breathes shakily in and out as they march closer with each passing second, keeping his head up, back straight, shoulders sqaured, eyes narrowed and determined.
Andre turns to Tallmadge when they stop. Discreetly, Tallmadge clutches onto the braid in his palm. He can't seem to make his arm stop shaking. He swallows, licks his lips and turns to Andre. Andre nods reassuringly, a small smile on his face as climbs up the steps under the tree.
Tallmadge steps back between the Marquis de Lafayette and Colonel Hamilton. Hamilton glances at him worriedly for a quick second, which causes Tallmadge to clench his jaw and breathe in slowly, holding his breath as he tightens his grip in his palm. He wants to close his eyes, not watch as he Hale in Andre's place. But he remains strong and keeps his eyes trained, locked on Andre's.
Andre is given a white blindfold and he takes it. He stares at it for a breif moment, before ticking his eyes back with Tallmadge's. Tallmadge stiffens when he sees Andre giving him a small smile and a nod. He thinks he hears, "It'll be but a momentary pang."
That doesn't settle Tallmadge's nerves and fears. He presses his lips together, stands taller than before which causes the Marquis and Hamilton to excahnge concerned and confused looks breifly before returning to attention. Tallmadge tightens his grip on the braid still in his palm, helplessly watches Andre wrap the blindfold around his eyes. Tallmadge breathes in once again, holds his breath, and squeezes his eyes shut.
Please...I need you... he suddenly thinks.
"If the condemened has any last words," a rough voice declares. "Let him speak now."
Tallmadge squeezes his eyes harder, tightens his grip tighter and bites his lip hard enough for it to draw blood. His arms tremble, his fingers tingle against his skin from how tight his grip has been, he hears ringing in ears. He sees Hale before him instead of Andre, those piercing, icy, cold blue eyes, that pale skin, that light-blonde hair--almost white.
"I pray that you all bare me witness that I may bare my fate like a brave man."
There's a deafening crack and Tallmadge whimpers, breathing sharply in and out, trying to control his racing heart as he blinks his eyes open only to find that the world is smeared before him. He hears a voice calling his name, a French accented voice, the Marquis, out of worry and concern.
Tallmadge doesn't hear him, can't hear him due to the ringing in his ears. He unfolds his palm, his hand shakes, as he stares at the braid in his palm. He clenches his fist and glances over his shoulder where Andre was alive not but a moment ago.
Please... Tallmadge thinks, swallowing the lump down.
I need you...
#asks#anon#ask liz#THIS TOOK ME FOREVER#i feel so accomplished-#whew#look at me going to bed at 9:45!#ficlet#requested#oneshot#prompts#writing prompts#amrev#read more#long post#turn: washington's spies#benjamin tallmadge#major john andre#alexander hamilton#marquis de lafayette#im so exhausted#bedtime now#little bit of halemadge
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
there in the tower.
A Sleeping Beauty inspired dark fantasy fic.
for ORV RARE PAIR WEEK 2021 @orv-week; day one, prompt: fairy tale
also on ao3.
.
.
.
They say that the dragon is guarding a princess. After all, dragons will always kidnap princesses and no one else. Who else is so valuable? So important in the kingdom? So weak? So when the dragon flew through the sky and curled around the base of a large tower, it seemed obvious that there was a princess inside, awaiting rescue.
Here’s the thing, though: Na Bori is not a princess.
She’s a seamstresses daughter, a common girl who doesn’t attract much attention from others. So why had the dragon taken her?
Of course, Lee Jihye had no way to know for sure that Na Bori was taken until she actually goes to the tower, but Na Bori had disappeared and a dragon appeared the next day. There were investigations, of course; nobility keeps track of their daughters and what bloodlines they marry into. Every princess and noble girl in the continent is accounted for. People have speculated that there may be a missing princess, perhaps born out of wedlock, or a sickly, weak girl who had never been introduced to society. And then they wondered if they should even bother rescuing the kidnapped girl if they weren’t respectably nobility.
Lee Jihye had to run out of town because of that one. Apparently starting a bar fight and smashing a chair over a marquis’ son is a bad move.
The barely suppressed panic thrums in her chest, filling the empty spaces between her ribs as she continues her journey to the tower.
No one has seen Na Bori since the dragon appeared. No one had looked, either. Who would care for a seamstresses daughter? But Lee Jihye has been besides Na Bori for years, has grown up with her, has never known anyone so bright and clever and kind.
The thought of Na Bori gone forever, trapped in a tower because no one cared to look makes her furiously blink tears out of her eyes. No one else is looking, but Lee Jihye. She would never stop until Na Bori was safe by her side again.
Here’s another thing: Lee Jihye is not a knight. She is training to be one, under the instruction of an old warrior who has settled down to live the last years of his life in peace. There are other knights and princes traveling to the tower, fighting beasts and bandits in order to rescue the poor maiden trapped besides a dragon, hoping to gain glory and honor for their deeds. Lee Jihye just wants her best friend back.
It’s easy enough to avoid them; Lee Jihye’s been dodging them for weeks, knowing she’s too tense to handle anyone’s company. These nobles are planning to gain fame or riches or a wife out of this. The last knight who had said something about pitiful women always clinging to their saviors got his teeth knocked out and a concussion from how hard Lee Jihye punched him. She left him lying on the side of the road, fists shaking as she desperately tried to erase thoughts of Na Bori married to a pig like him.
The less time spent with others, the better.
She cuts down another branch in her way and dives deeper into the forests that surround the castle.
“But what if you get sent far away?” she asks, stabbing her needle especially viciously through the fabric.
Lee Jihye is rather happy that Na Bori doesn’t want her to go. The rare occasion where Na Bori clings to Lee Jihye instead of the other way around are moments memorized and held onto fondly. She knows that there is no one in this world closer to her than Na Bori, knows that she’s the person who knows Na Bori best, but it’s nice to hear that she’s wanted.
Smiling, Lee Jihye reaches out and takes one of Na Bori’s hands, stopping her from tearing through the fabric. “I’ll still come back,” she promises, “Where else would I come home to?”
“And if you get hurt?”
“I’ll just get strong enough that nothing can hurt me.”
Na Bori is mollified, and it shows in how she relaxes and finally sets down her sewing. “You still have a long way to go then. Strong knights don’t cry over a little tumble down the hill.”
Lee Jihye flushes and scowls. “Hey! It was my first assignment and it was a steep hill. I hit a lot of things on the way down! It hurt! If anything, it would be weird if I wasn’t
crying when she wakes up. Lee Jihye faintly hears Na Bori’s voice whisper, “Crybaby,” but it’s only wistful thinking. Forcing her aching body up, Lee Jihye wipes away her tears and prepared herself for another agonizing day cutting through the thorny and impossibly large brambles that block entry to the tower.
“Okay,” she tells herself, “You’re almost there. Na Bori is waiting for you, so you can’t give up yet.”
Many of the others have turned back. She no longer sees other groups making their way to the tower. It’s been eerily silent for the past two days.
If she had been anyone else, if she had been sane, Lee Jihye would have turned around too. The entire area felt unwelcoming, downright hostile sometimes, and made every nerve in her body scream at her to turn around. A heavy pit of despair grows in her stomach and the hopelessness it causes makes her physically sick a few times.
Still, Lee Jihye presses onwards.
The longer it takes, the more she worries, her brain providing morbid images of Na Bori’s body rotting in the tower, or being eaten by the dragon, or any other terrible thing that could happen to kidnapped people. It has Lee Jihye on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and she’s been teetering on that cliff for a few days now.
There’s no doubt that the area around the tower is full of dark magic. It gets into her head, twists around her bones, squeezes the air out of her lungs and slowly suffocates her each day. It gives her nightmares, makes her relive memories that feel like they’re happening again, like Na Bori is there with her only for wakefulness to destroy the illusions. Lee Jihye has only been in this dark magic infected forest for two days. Na Bori has been missing for a week and a half.
The fear she feels for Na Bori and what she’s had to endure only makes things worse.
Lee Jihye hacks through another large thorny bramble and continues in deeper, ignoring the weariness that makes her want to collapse and never get up. Thorns have caught on her with each step she takes; most of the cuts clot up quickly, but the rest leave a trail of blood to guide her back out.
The tower doesn’t look any closer.
She lifts her heavy arms to cut through another branch.
Na Bori shrieks and jumps onto Lee Jihye, clinging with all her might. Startled, Lee Jihye stumbles back a few steps, trying to regain her balance without dropping Na Bori. She wraps her arms around Na Bori, holding her up, and looks around for the source of her distress.
Crawling across the road is a centipede.
Lee Jihye can’t help but laugh, easily carrying Na Bori away from it, continuing down the road to her house.
Na Bori, still holding onto Lee Jihye and making no moves to get down, smacks her shoulder. “Don’t laugh!”
“I can’t believe you call me a crybaby when you jump into my arms as soon as you see a bug.”
“It’s a perfectly reasonably fear! Nothing should have that many legs, or those weird eyes, or pincers, or--ugh!” She shudders, scaring herself by imagining the very things she hates about bugs.
It’s cute, how insistent she is that bugs are weird, gross, and wholly unnatural. Lee Jihye has listened to these complaints for many years, and she wouldn’t mind listening for many years more.
“Don’t worry,” she says, adjusting her grip around Na Bori’s waist. “I’ll always be here to rescue you from the evil, scary bugs.”
Na Bori tucks her face into the crook of Lee Jihye’s neck. Her warm breath sends shivers down her spine; it takes everything in her not to stumble or drop Na Bori.
“My valiant knight,” she says, and Lee Jihye can hear the smile in her voice.
Who needs kings and queens? The only person she ever wants to dedicate her sword to is already in her arms. And if asked, Lee Jihye would gladly dedicate the rest of her life.
It’s just. There are little moments between them, where Lee Jihye thinks Na Bori also wants more, wants to push the limits of their friendship into new territory, but what if it’s just wistful thinking? They’ve shared what feels like their whole lives together, and there’s no guarantee that Na Bori wouldn’t leave one day. But if she stayed… If she stayed, Lee Jihye would give
up and let the brambles consume her body. She doesn’t know how long it’s been, how far she’s gone. Dreams and reality feel the same and she can’t quite tell which is which anymore. The tower is still the same distance away it was when she first saw it rising above the brambles.
Everything hurts. Her ears are ringing. She’s been bleeding sluggishly for days now, always torn apart by new thorns. There’s no point in trying to patch herself up when the next set of brambles is ready to rip her flesh apart.
The tip of her sword drags through the dirt. She’s given up trying to cut a path through to the towers. Instead, Lee Jihye settles for twisting between the branches, uncaring for the thorns that reach out for her greedily.
Whatever dark magic saturates this place is slowly killing her. Lee Jihye doesn’t know much about magic as she’s never had a talent for it, but she knows enough to understand that this is incredibly powerful and dangerous magic.
What does it have to do with Na Bori?
The answer is: nothing good. Who cares about the specifics? All Lee Jihye has to know is that the magic is going to (if it hasn’t already) hurt Na Bori. The need to save her from this, to bring her back somewhere safe, is what keeps her going despite how painful it is.
As much as her body screams at her to give up and just lie down until she withers away, Lee Jihye pushes forwards, ignoring every ache and cut and bruise.
She will get to the tower.
Na Bori will come home.
Their hands bump together and they both reflexively jerk away. The air between them is awkward for a moment, then Na Bori laughs and picks up the last apple slice and brings it up to Lee Jihye’s lips.
"Here,” she says sweetly, and Lee Jihye takes a bite, watches the juice trail down her fingers and wants more than anything to lick it away, to press kisses against Na Bori’s nimble hands, wants
to cry, to scream, to just be done with it. The tower looms above her, no closer and no farther, mocking her and she twists herself through another bramble, wincing as a thorn drags along her arm, beads of blood beginning to
fall into the river. The colorful leaves line the banks of the river and Lee Jihye watches as Na Bori carefully shifts through piles of leaves, searching for the mushrooms that she needed for dinner.
“Jihye, come here!” she calls, waving her over.
And Lee Jihye goes, as she always does. “What is it? Did you find
a way in, but it’s all just stone. No doors, no windows, just stone. She finally got past those horrible brambles, and now that she’s at the tower she can’t find a way in. It’s too tall for her to climb with her how exhausted she is. There’s no way up.
Lee Jihye can’t help but cry, screaming in frustration as she presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to breathe through the sobs that force themselves out of her chest.
The magic has only gotten stronger. Dreams, memories, reality, it’s all mixing together. One moment she’s walking through town with Na Bori, the next she’s trying not to gut herself on a large thorn. One moment she’s cutting down a branch and the next she’s waking up then walking past the brambles then waking up and seeing Na Bori smile then waking up and waking up and waking up but she can’t remember falling asleep.
Is this a dream? Is she awake? Is the tower before her real or is this just another illusion?
She’s come all this way. She can’t go back, not without finding a way in that fucking
tower over her and Lee Jihye is sobbing as she watches they push Na Bori into the river. The one holding her back is laughing meanly, saying something about how no one would care about what happens to them, just two poor common girls who only have each other, bet their parents wouldn’t even notice them gone.
N a Bori is coughing up water in-between insults, and Lee Jihye whimpers as her arm is twisted more and more and any more will hurt her, will break her bones, their hands are too big and strong and no one is coming to save them and
"Get up Jihye!”
There is a dragon curled around the tower. It’s smaller than what she expected. Smaller than what she remembers. It stares at her, but it doesn’t attack.
It looks just as tired as she is.
“Hey,” Lee Jihye rasps out. “I just want her back. Please.”
The dragon huffs and drops its head to the ground. There is a collar around its neck, digging into its flesh. Dried blood colors the edges of the collar, and Lee Jihye feels sick to her stomach. Whatever magic is taking place here is vile enough to hurt a dragon, a creature of pure magic from the core of the planet.
Killing the dragon would be an act of mercy.
Lee Jihye approaches. It watches and doesn’t move. Its golden eyes are so tired; the dragon has already given up.
She raises her sword.
They are seven years old when they first meet. The new seamstress in town is delighted to see that her daughter will have a friend her age. She waves the two of them off to play and goes back into her store, ready to get started on mending clothes.
Na Bori grins, bright and lively; it’s the biggest smile Lee Jihye has ever seen, and she’s instantly enamoured.
"Hi! I’m Na Bori. Wanna play?”
"Sure! I’m Lee Jihye, I live down there,” she points behind them to the cluster of houses near the fields, “and you’re the first person I’ve met who’s my age!”
Na Bori doesn’t waste any more time talking. She grabs Lee Jihye’s wrist and drags her along. It’s the first touch she’s felt from someone outside her family that didn’t hurt. She’s gotten used to hiding from the local bullies and crying when they were done with her, but Na Bori’s hand around her wrist is what makes her feel like she’s splintering apart.
It’s a good feeling.
She follows along behind Na Bori, and remembers that kind touch whenever she thinks about why she loves Na Bori so much.
The collar falls to the ground. It was hard work cutting through it, but just because Lee Jihye doesn’t have a talent for magic doesn’t mean she can’t use it. It’s all about mana direction and intent. This forest is full of mana that feels rotten and wounded, but it is mana nonetheless, and Lee Jihye has spent days in it. It’s easy enough to focus on the memory of the first kindness another child showed her and use that to fuel the intent of help rather than harm .
The dragon blinks and some life returns to its eyes. It watches her carefully as she sheathes her sword and wipes the sweat off her brow.
“I helped you get out of the collar. Please help me too.”
And it does.
The dragon nudges its nose against her stomach and lets her climb on. She holds onto it’s large horns as it ascends and circles the tower. There is a single window in this entire tower, up at the top, and it is there that the dragon stops, using its claws to dig into the stone walls and cling to the tower so that Lee Jihye can climb in through the window.
It rumbles at her softly, and Lee Jihye pats its nose. “I’ll be back soon.”
The inside of the tower is dark save for the light that comes in through the window. It’s full of books and bones, strange symbols drawn on the wall and the floor. There is a man collapsed against a table, gaunt and covered in dried blood. His chest moves, the only sign that he’s not dead, and symbols are cut into his skin, turned black from channeling dark magic.
Lee Jihye doesn’t hesitate to run him through with her sword. He dies silently, not knowing the danger he was in the moment he stole Na Bori away.
That is, if Na Bori is even here. If she isn’t, Lee Jihye is going to have a breakdown, then go out and continue her search. But she’s sure that Na Bori is here.
She has to be.
In the back is another set of stairs that winds up, and Lee Jihye climbs them, leaving her sword out just in case.
It’s much darker up here, but still Lee Jihye can make out the bed and a person lying in it. There’s a table besides the bed, full of sharp objects she doesn’t know the use for, and small vials of blood. Dread fills Lee Jihye and she approaches the bed to get a closer look at who is on it.
Na Bori sleeps peacefully.
Her arms are bare and full of healing cuts. Lee Jihye collapses, half-laughing half-sobbing in relief. She reaches out and shakes Na Bori, trying to rouse her from her slumber, but Na Bori doesn’t stir.
She’s as still as a corpse.
Lee Jihye shakes her harder, then pats her cheek. “Bori-ya? Hey, Bori-ya, I’m here. I’m here to take you home. Wake up, will you? Please, wake up.”
Na Bori remains motionless. She’s never been a deep sleeper, or a still one. Seeing her so still and silent terrifies Lee Jihye.
“Please,” she whispers, grasping one of Na Bori’s hands and pressing her forehead against it. “Please, wake up.”
Lee Jihye sobs. She went through all this and now that she’s here, it doesn’t matter. Because Na Bori is stuck in a magical sleep that Lee Jihye can’t wake her from.
Desperate, Lee Jihye pulls on the rotting mana around them. Blood drips from her nose as she pushes herself through exhaustion and pain, letting the decay take root in her body as she tries to use magic to break Na Bori out of her enchanted sleep. It hurts so much, behind her eyes, in her throat, around her heart. It hurts but there’s nothing else she can do, so Lee Jihye keeps pulling the mana in, then pushing it into Na Bori through their joined hands, wishing wake up wake up wake up come back to me please I missed you so much please come back I want to go home please don’t make me leave you .
She’s not made for magic. Doesn’t really know how to use it and it takes a toll on her body. She barely notices that she’s stopped crying. She just doesn’t have the energy to make tears.
Lee Jihye resigns herself to death. Better than leaving without Na Bori. She slumps over, slowly losing her strength. Na Bori sleeps on.
They were supposed to have a future together. She wanted to find the courage to confess to Na Bori, to make a life with her, to become a knight for her. She wanted so much but she’ll never get it because their story ends here.
These are her final moments. She’s allowed to be greedy. Lee Jihye leans down and kisses Na Bori; their first and last kiss. She presses her lips against Na Bori’s mouth and just stays there, tired and weak.
Na Bori takes a breath.
And she kisses back.
"Why do you want to be a knight? Isn’t it scary?”
Was it? Lee Jihye had always thought the stories of adventures and fighting monsters was really cool. She says as much to Na Bori, who scrunches up her nose.
“But what if you get hurt or run into a really scary monster?” she asks, clutching the skirt of her dress in her fists, knuckles white.
“Then I’d fight back and come to you so you could help me! Being a knight might be a little scary, but I’d also be strong enough to defeat any scary thing that I find.”
“Would you save me if I was in danger?”
Lee Jihye grins and grabs Na Bori’s hand to link their pinkies together. “I promise that I will always save you.”
Na Bori has to support Lee Jihye as they both stumble down the stairs and make their way to the window, where the dragon is waiting. It coos at them, concerned, and Lee Jihye manages a weak smile that seems to reassure it.
They somehow manage to get onto the dragon, holding onto ridges of its back as it takes off and flies them away from the oppressive force of black magic.
“Jihye?” Na Bori murmurs from behind her, arms wrapped around Jihye’s waist as she leans against her back. “Thank you for coming to save me. I kept dreaming of you and our promise.”
“I told you didn’t I? I’ll always save you.” Lee Jihye wishes she could be cooler when she says it, but she’s exhausted and the relief of having Na Bori with her makes her voice small and weak.
Na Bori presses a kiss to the back of her neck. “Sleep. I’ll take care of you until we get home.”
Feeling like a child again, experiencing her first kind touch from another, Lee Jihye relaxes against Na Bori, and lets herself drift off as her heart splinters and fractures, then comes together whole.
13 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
