#nobility!au
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inspired by bridgerton. again. like I said, I have problems. specifically inspired by the iconic kathony dancing scene in the s2 finale, but seonghwa isn’t anthony here - that role lies with someone else :)
wc: 2.7k ~ seonghwa x fem!reader ~ nobility!au, bridgerton!au ~ triggers: none ~ ateez masterlist
for mai @wingkkun because they suck for enabling me </3
[ a dance is for two ] When the last notes of the song fade away, you bow to your partner with the practiced smile of the season’s diamond and step off of the dance floor. Disgraced or not, caught in a scandal or not, you still have a role to play and damage to minimize.
Perhaps you’re being harsh. It’s not as if you were, heavens forbid, caught in some compromising position with another man alone in another room. It’s not as if what happened tore your family down into ruin. But it did paint a black smear across your name that might not have been so prominent if Queen Charlotte herself had not styled you her diamond of the season, turning everyone’s eye on you.
It was only an argument.
Your stomach twists even as your lips remain neutral. Only an argument, yes. That is what it should’ve been if you weren’t a diamond – merely a pearl, a sapphire, a moonstone. But that isn’t what it looks like to everyone else.
And, truth be told, it isn’t what it feels like to you, either.
If it were only an argument, you wouldn’t have cared. If it were only an argument, it wouldn’t have hurt. If it were only an argument, it wouldn’t have mattered who he was and how your heart fell to pieces when he stormed away, leaving you still bursting with angry tears and choked curses still hanging on your lips.
Curses you almost want to hurl into the audience right now, at every eye that turns towards you when its owner thinks you aren’t looking, at every lecherous look from someone seeking an opportunity and a stepping stone, not a real person.
He thought of you as a real person. A human. Someone with dreams and goals and ideas that he didn’t merely entertain but encouraged. Ideas to which he listened.
“Are you all right?”
And there Lia stands, everything good in her gaze as she puts a hand on your arm and leads you slightly away. Only then do you realize you’d been standing where you were for some time, silently twisting the strings of your dance card around and around your wrist.
The answer is no, and she knows it, anyway. So you just give her a nod in the moment because if you open your mouth, you might scream, and Lia can see through your lies clear as day so it doesn’t matter what you say. She responds with a squeeze of your forearm, the silk of her gloves soft against your skin and soothing, gentle, kind. “It’ll pass,” she whispers.
She smiles, and you have to smile back. In the moment, you can almost believe what she says is true. Lia, your best friend for so long – they have tried to tear you two apart since the beginning of the season, both of you named crown jewels by the gossip and the papers, but the two of you have stayed friends through it all. It doesn’t feel so hard to smile anymore.
But then the curve fades from her lips, replaced by a thin, neutral line that wavers on her expression as her eyes turn hard, staring at something in the near distance.
You frown. “Lia?”
“Turn around.”
All you can register at first is the silence. Well, not quite – the music keeps playing in the background, stringing out a pretty melody to which the dancers step. But where the conversation used to be filled with giggles and laughs both snide and true, it has now faded to mere whispers.
And then you see the reason why.
Dark hair like the night, eyes that sparkle like the stars. A gentle set to his jaw and lips, softness in his expression even though he does not smile, everything you fell in love with over the past six months.
Everything you are still in love with, even after all that happened.
If it were another night, perhaps if Lady Whistledown had never begun publishing her thrice-be-damned gossip column, the other mamas would have been throwing their daughters toward the man stepping carefully around the ballroom floor. There would be hisses, faked laughter, perhaps a few silent swats and whispers to stand straight or he’ll never notice you and you’d laugh about it with Lia and your other friends, at least until your mamas forced you to do the same thing.
But it is the second to last ball of the season. A most important night, second only to the last ball. And Lady Whistledown knows all, sees all, and that is why even though she may not know of the exact reason behind the argument that split you two apart, she has noted the sudden coldness that has descended between a couple that everyone swore was a love match.
Was a love match. You swallow. It still is a love match, at least from your side. Though after the horrible things you hurled at him and the horrible things he hurled at you, you aren’t sure if the object of your wretched affections still feels the same.
Though it is clear he does have something to say after days of silence, judging by the way his trajectory across the ballroom seems to be right towards you.
Lia’s grip grows tighter on your arm. You try to move – try – but it’s like you’ve been glued in place, feet stuck to the floor as a statue rooted to its pedestal. He keeps moving, closer, closer, but try as you might, you can’t –
“I think –” The whisper comes out more choked than you expected, but there’s no time to correct it or to wonder who heard. “Lia, I think we need to leave –”
“Miss Y/N!”
Trapped.
You freeze back into place, that painted, pleasant smile stuck onto your face. Seonghwa doesn’t smile back as he stops in front of you, but then again he doesn’t have to – he’s a duke, and he can afford to lose the effortless grin every once in a while without too much worry for the consequences.
Lia’s nails dig into your arm as she dips into a curtsy. Only muscle memory from all those weeks of preparing for this season keeps you from making a fool of yourself in front of all of those watching eyes. “Your Grace,” you both murmur. Your stomach flips again, this time in disgust – you’re pretty sure you sounded something like a cat with a hairball in its throat.
Eyes flicker toward you, then the duke. The duke, then to you. And back again. Burning into your skin.
“Miss L/N.” The utterance of your name is quieter this time, a little less desperate than when he first called it. “I was wondering if you may do me the honor of a dance?”
A dance. He wants a dance.
The strings of your dance card seem to dig into your wrist, light twine carving lines into your skin. Lia squeezes your arm, reminding you of what you can still say – I apologize, Your Grace, but my dance card is full – and if you said that, Seonghwa wouldn’t push because no matter how angry or upset he might feel he still knows decorum and etiquette and respect, above all.
But –
You can’t quite bring yourself to brush him away without hearing what he wants to say. Because he wants to say something, that much is clear, and you have things to say, too. Apologies, even if he doesn’t want to accept them.
And besides, you miss him. More than you care to admit, but it seems the situation is beyond what you care of at the moment.
It’s like watching someone else’s hand reach for Seonghwa’s, press the gloved palm into his even though you know that silk glove belongs to you. “Of course,” you say in a surprisingly steady tone, and with a final glance that Lia will hopefully interpret as go dance with your betrothed, you allow Seonghwa to lead you onto the dance floor.
A bow. A curtsy. Hands clasped together, his palm warm, gentle against yours as though no harsh words had ever come between the two of you. Impeccable posture as always, a steadiness that keeps you grounded as the music picks up and you begin to dance.
Sway, sway. A twist under his arm. You look at him on reflex and he looks too as though he could look nowhere else, fixing you into place by his side. And when you finally fully meet his eyes –
There is no ire in his gaze. No anger, no resentment the way you had imagined.
He spins you back out and your breath comes out like a gasp, relief and shame and apology all at once. And in that moment you chance a look at the couples nearby, only to see that they are watching you.
Sick unease fills your stomach as Seonghwa drops your hands, sidesteps around you in the dance you were taught. You step around him with a spin and a twist, heart in your throat as you ask, “Do you want to stop?”
In the moment where you are unattached, untethered, drifting away from his hand, you almost feel as though the world might open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole. But then Seonghwa’s hands return, the look in his eyes never wavering.
“Just keep looking at me,” he whispers. “No one else matters.”
No one else matters.
No one else matters.
The words echo in your mind, bouncing through the walls of your skull – no one else matters, no one else matters, no one else matters – and with a light gasp you realize as he sways you, step by step, without so much as a glance in any other direction – it is true. No one else matters. Not here, not now. Just as he tried to tell you before.
And so when you finish the dance to the low hum of strings and muted applause in the distance, you find your heart at rest, the tiniest of smiles on your lips.
You curtsy. Seonghwa bows. He takes your hand once more, presses a light kiss on it, and speaks so softly you don’t think anyone else could hear.
“Will you come with me to the gardens?” he murmurs. “We won’t be alone, I promise. I just wanted to talk.”
We won’t be alone.
I promise.
All of a sudden you feel like crying. Because even in the midst of all the flung curses and insults, he listened. He heard. He cared.
Like he always did.
It’s all you can do to stumble out into the grass just outside the ballroom before the words burst from your lips. “I’m sorry.”
Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrow. “What –”
“No. Stop.” You hold out a palm in front of his face, trying uselessly to choke back the lump in your throat. “I’m speaking.”
He closes his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” you choke. “I’m sorry I – I said horrible things to you – I know you care for me, I know you always have – I’m sorry for being too uptight, for always worrying too much and being too overbearing – I’m sorry.” Too late you realize you’ve begun to cry, tears already beginning an earnest trickle down your cheeks. “I know that you love me. I never doubted that. I’m sorry for saying that you didn’t, and I’m also sorry for everything else.”
A hand touches the palm you’ve outstretched between your faces and begins to lower it, slowly, slowly. Seonghwa’s fingers wrap around yours, gently squeezing before he turns you just so to meet his eyes. They glitter in the moonlight, stars in the sky, and –
Oh.
Those are tears, too.
“Are you quite finished?” The question is light, lilting, yet with every word Seonghwa’s eyes blink as though he cannot keep the tears away. “If so, I’d like a chance to speak, too.”
You nod, uselessly wiping the corners of your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he starts. “If you have reason to be sorry, which I really don’t believe you do, I have ten times more. No, a hundred times more.” The first tear falls down his cheek with the last wobbled word, glistening under the stars. “I was… reckless. Careless. I wanted to do so much with you in so little time, I didn’t realize what kind of toll it was taking on you. I always knew it was harder for you to be so in the center of attention than it was for me, but I forgot it too often. I’m sorry. I made things more difficult for you, and I wasn’t understanding when you finally said something about it.”
Your tears haven’t disappeared but you reach out a gloved hand anyway to brush the wetness from his eyes, thumbing away the tears as they come. “We both have things to be sorry for,” you say, voice trembling. “I won’t hear that I have nothing for which to apologize. But I forgive you.” A long, shuddering breath. “I missed you so much.”
“I forgive you too,” Seonghwa whispers, his own hand rising to cup your cheek. “And if you missed me, I surely missed you twenty times more.”
You laugh wetly. “Impossible.”
“Very possible.” Seonghwa’s laugh sounds like bells. “Would you like to see proof?”
He steps back before you can respond, a hand reaching into some pocket to produce something unseen. You frown, trying to look closer, but then he gets down on one knee and a hand flies to your mouth –
“When I left after we fought, I thought there might be a good chance I would never see you again.” Seonghwa’s voice wavers, but his smile stays true. “You are the season’s diamond. Anyone could have wanted you, and I could not fault you for wanting them. There are many others far better than I who could make you so very happy.” He swallows. “But I’m selfish, because I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else making you smile as their partner. As their spouse.”
You’re crying again. You’re crying again and this time you know that your unabsorbent silk gloves won’t do a damned thing to stop it so you don’t even try.
“So I came today in hopes of making amends, and in hopes of asking you the question I couldn’t ask you before.” The small unseen thing reveals itself as a box that he opens, letting gold and small gems sparkle under the moon. “Y/N, will you marry me?”
“Yes.” The word comes out strong, steady, louder than you expected and in the corner of your eye you can see some people turning their heads, but for once in your life you ignore them and nod again and again, voice turning shaky and teary but you mean your words with all your heart – “yes, yes, I will.”
The tearstained glove slips off your hand, Seonghwa gently taking your fingers between his to slip the gold ring onto your finger. You have one moment to admire the small gems that decorate the band before he takes your attention again, hands gripping yours with a trembling strength you didn’t know he had. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
Thank you. You want to laugh, giddy, because he has no reason to thank you – you have every reason to thank him – but your voice isn’t working and you can’t seem to speak so you grab him by the shoulders and pull him close, wrapping your arms around him.
There’s a little oomf of surprise as Seonghwa’s body crashes into yours, but then his arms find their way around your waist as well, pulling you closer than you ever thought you could be.
Somewhere there are whispers, people watching and passing on the gossip the longer you stand in Seonghwa's arms. But as the ring glints on your finger under the night sky, for once, you can’t find it in yourself to care.
“I love you,” you whisper.
“What a coincidence.” You can hear the smile in Seonghwa’s voice. “For I love you too.”
If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3
(1 reblog = 1 prayer for better communication between these two in the future <3 I think they can do it :D)
#ficscafe#ateez#atz#seonghwa#park seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez oneshots#ateez seonghwa scenarios#ateez seonghwa oneshots#ateez seonghwa imagines#ateez x reader#ateez seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa x reader#ateez seonghwa fluff#seonghwa fluff#fluff#nobility!au#bridgerton!au#a dance is for two#blossom-hwa
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It's you!
You come from a family of nobility and are the only child. You grew up with doting parents, your mother very nurturing and your father very iron-fisted.
You are the heir to the family fortune and your father's company--a shipping company in charge of transporting imported and exported goods across the water. How boring.
You would rather spend your time learning more about what always served as your backyard--the sea. You grew up hearing tales told by your mother and the house staff that the sea was once filled with giants, but over the years reports and sightings had dwindled significantly.
You always felt drawn to the sea, especially after an encounter you had as a child with two mer pups.
#cosmic tides#cosmic tides lore#cosmic tides y/n#dca mer au#fnaf security breach#fnaf sb#fnaf dca au#fnaf dca#fnaf y/n#nobility#reference sheet#child y/n#adult y/n#wetsuit#swim gear#precious trinkets#mother's heirlooms#size references
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denounced shirts and the rule of kings in the same breath
#teh au where oliver had magic and went on to become a spellsword wizard#greedy nobility? dismantle with fireball#the idea made me laugh but honestly this was my excuse to draw a chaperon and big medieval sleeves#historical fantasy#orcs
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Angst!!
Two lovers [Character] one of them are the head of the family/Nobility line and their ""Lover [You/Reader]"" is a Commoner.
Oneday the Noble was seated in the dinner table with their ""love"" after months of being un able to see each other because of the Noble's busy skedule.
"Am Entering a Arraged Marrige "
the Noble said to their ""lover"" their lover rightfully shocked asked
"Was their love not great enough?"
The noble did not dare to look at their ""Lover's"" eye
"It has a lot of oppertunities"
the noble state's
"Isint having two spouse in one roof a horrid idea?! And am i really that easy to be replaced!??"
The Lover, was rightfully Upset. They did not want the Noble to asnwer them...
They didnt, they just left.
They broke up days after.
In the following weeks the "Noble" was preparing the arragements for the wedding one of their last items to fit was their wedding garmets.
They entered the esteemed shop.
"Good afternoon! Wellcome of our establishment"
The Noble noticed its their Ex lover's voice that greeted them with the warmth of the sun something they havent heared since their work load doubled.
"Oh"
the Ex lover looked at them their smile wavered a bit but they needed to keep a formal front
"Do you have a reservation?"
"Yes, my wedding attire"
"great please follow me, ill get the measuring intruments please wait here"
They hoped that the Noble will go after them but they made it clear that they would not give anything valuable to the Nobility line but hinder it.
#genshin impact#genshin angst#genshin#sagau angst#ayato x reader angst#kamisato ayato#royalty#nobility#arranged marriage#royalty au#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#eula lawrence#eula x reader#ningguang#genshin sara#alhaitham angst#althaitham#genshin impact neuvillette x reader#neuvillette
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Got busy this weekend and couldnt draw much so today I did this silly thing :3
Something sweet about the Prototype qwq
I find it endearing those two would get so happy when the prototype is near while other toys would feel intimidated by them XD
I will make more silly doodles about why Zero thinks so high of the Prototype in the future :D
Au by @asamary You should check their stuff :D!
Also Zero chirps when they are very happy (The only one who got to hear them is 1006 till now, Zero is a bit embarrased because he cannot control it but with 1006 he lowers his guard but also acts childish around him too HAHA)
#poppy playtime#catnap#sweet home au#poppy playtime sweet home#prototype#poppy playtime 1006#oc Zero Signal#poppy playtime oc#my art#I wanna put on a comic how zero little by little they managed and healed about their fear of other people and stopped being extremely#dependant of the prototype. like imagine he made chaos is hospitals or any other place cuz he would wake up from nigthmares of being back#and wouldnt be able to differenciate reality from the nightmare and would stop only by shutting himself in a room/closet or the prototype#assured him its okay then while healing the prototype made catnap one of his most loyal followers to met zero since he is very calm and#chill but funnily enough i like to think catnap just went. “im their favorite” and started picking a fight in wich zero got frustrate and#they ended up fighting and making zero come out of his shell a bit (the prototype totally knew it would help probably HAHA)#and catnap being unable to use the gas because kaboom with electricity HAHAH#in the end both got scolded zero should know better cuz oldest of the two and catnap for picking a fight HJAHA#also zero calls him my lord in a non religious way but more in like how a servant would call a duke or nobility kings etc#the prototype collecting kids with trauma like pokemon card
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A lot of Omegas didn’t agree with arranged marriages and mating any more, they should have their choice in Alpha. And sure, a lot of Alphas and Betas liked that idea too.
But here we are, meeting for the first time at the masquerade ball, you have no idea I’m your betrothed, you just know that I’ve been gentle with all my touches to your waist and your shoulders, and my scent has you so desperate to have a bite of me. You’ll think of this as your last chance of freedom before we’re married in two days. You don’t know that I’m going to be the one mounting you and claiming you as my pretty little mate soon enough. You’d fought with your parents about this, not wanting to be auctioned off to the highest paying duke.
It didn’t matter how much I had to pay, I wanted you. I’d spied you in one of the gardens sunbathing last summer, the light dancing through your parasol as you lightly dozed, wearing little more than a long shirt to protect your modesty. I was hooked.
I’ve been watching you at every ball, every high society dinner. Soon, you’ll have a taste of me.
I’ll let you steal a kiss, so your first kiss is of your choosing, you don’t need to know I’ll be your first and last kiss. Maybe tonight I’ll slip my fingers inside your trousers and finger that pretty Omega pussy while you grip my arms and whimper in my ear, the anonymity of it all just serving to make you wetter. When you cum on my fingers, I’ll fish my cock out and knot my fist with your slick. It’ll be the first time you see a knot, maybe you’ll be bold and have a lick and suck, maybe beg me to knot your mouth. And in two days I’ll knot your cunt and make you scream my name.
But for now, we’ll just dance, and I’ll continue my seduction of my pretty little mate.
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Reverse Gondolin AU family portrait
#silm#silmarillion#idril#tuor#earendil#reverse gondolin au#is this baby earendil's first appearance in the au?#so I decided Idril & Tuor still get married in this au#mostly bc I want Earendil to exist.#i haven't figured out what I want to do with Lomion#but maybe he can be obsessed with tyelpe instead of idril bc they're friends in this au and idril showed up a lot later?#also c&c + celebrimbor moved to gondolin instead of nargothrond since Aredhel lives there#you may notice that tuor has a diff hairstyle & outfit in the au!#this is bc fashion trends in reverse gondolin are more influenced by aredhel's choices than turgons for obvious reasons#hence the white cloaks and shorter (but equally fancy) sleeves#also idril is lord of the mole in the au#my headcanon is that 'lord' as of the lords of gondolin is just the title regardless of gender for the specific role#'lady' is a different role with much less administrative stuff and more social/public-appearance type stuff#aredhel is the white lady of gondolin bc she does Not want to be a lord#so she does the occasional royalty-waves-and-smiles-from-a-tower type event when necessary#but other than that she doesnt have political duties#idril is the administrative/political leader of the Mole in the au hence she is a lord#shes also the lady of the wing bc she married tuor and is part of the house of the wing's nobility but doesn't do their political stuff#and tuor is the lady of the mole#reverse turgon after arrival has less of a interest in politics than canon turgon (the whole eol deal was rather traumatizing and he needs#time to recover)#so he's not one of the Lords but he is colloquially ar-feinion#his official title is some sort of prince#after he reaches a more stable emotional state he helps a lot w the political stuff when aredhel is out#so maeglin doesn't have todo everything himself
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thinking of nobility au where trans regulus gets married off to some old guy kills him but manages to convince everyone it was just an unfortunate tragedy pays some ppl off and inherits the guys estate pretends he married himself pre transition and is now off mourning in the countryside and sirius shows up one day to save regulus and is just like. what the actual fuck dude
#draft post#i was onto smth here#and its unusually legible for my paragraph aus#marauders#regulus black#noble regulus black#marauders nobility au#trans regulus#trans regulus black#sirius black
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I am NOT writing a Dreamling Anastasia AU
...but. If I were...
(Edit: I am, find the masterpost here!)
It would not, actually, be a full human AU. The Endless are still Endless, but humanity has risen up against them, to terrible results. Their “domains” are still somewhat intact, so humanity can mostly go on as normal, but the personifications have been torn from them, weakened, have barely any control over them anymore. Their realms have crumbled, their tools are damaged, and they’re in exile...
And Death has offered immortality to whosoever will return her lost brother, Dream of the Endless, to her.
Enter Hob Gadling, vagabond, mercenary, and not very fond of dying as a concept; and Gilbert, a dream who survived the destruction of the Dreaming, and has lived among the humans ever since.
Dream of the Endless has been captured, turned human, and killed. They all know it, everyone does - it would be a pretty story if someone recovered him, a pretty story indeed, finally bringing peace and comfort to his family and the remainder of his subjects, but it won’t ever come true...
...unless someone were to make it true. Of course. Out of pure charitable sentiment, and not for the immortality reward at all.
All Hob and Gil would need is a lookalike they can pass off as “Dream of the Endless forcefully turned human” - and the amnesiac ravenkeeper “Murphy”, misanthropic and eccentric to the utmost, might be just what they’re looking for.
(But the traitor at Dream’s court has not yet given up on destroying him utterly, and is following after them with a razor-sharp knife and three mouths hungry for “Murphy”’s blood...)
---
(A scene I typed out just for funsies, from later in the plot, under the cut - also, tagging @10moonymhrivertam who I believe was interested in this!)
[Context for the scene:
Murphy-pretending-to-be-Dream has already presented himself to Unity, Desire’s Queen Consort, mentioning that he vaguely recalls being saved from captivity by a young guard shattering his glass cage with a sledgehammer. Soon after, he finds out that Hob had ulterior, selfish motives for this plot, and does not take it at all well.]
When Murphy is finally called to stand before the siblings to prove his identity, only Gilbert is accompanying him inside... and he's glad for that. Betrayal rankles in him, the first buds of love trampled brutally underfoot by the man's selfish human cruelty - a lie and a con for immortality! What a low cur! Murphy despises him, and if he does not see him again until 100 years' hence, it will still be too soon.
The Endless siblings await him in a room that seems perfectly cosy, but also painfully small. Beings such as them are made for grand halls, and to see five of them crammed together on a couch and some chairs seems... wrong, almost.
Destiny sits in an armchair hood drawn low, arms curled around the charred and torn remnants of what was once a book. Death sits on the couch, radiating a solemn sort of warmth, while Despair is huddled up next to her, eyes wide and uncertain, with her twin's hand resting protectively on her shoulder from where they are perched on the armrest, the other holding Unity's, who is seated in the second armchair.
("And Despair... oi, Murphy, are you listening?" says Hob's voice in his head, warm with fondness and a broad grin. "Despair was killed but reborn in a new aspect during the uprising. She'll still have all her old memories, though, so remain on your guard even around her."
Oh, those endless lessons. He will never forget a word of them.)
The youngest, Deligh- Delirium is seated on the floor, humming to herself and drawing swirling, colourful patterns onto the carpet. She hasn't as much as looked up at him.
Gilbert steps forward.
"Your Highnesses," he murmurs, politely removing his hat and squishing it in anxious hands. "May I present: Dream of the Endless."
-
They ask him questions all over again, particularly Death and Desire - hers gentle and probing, theirs sharp and cutting - and Murphy answers as best he can, trying to ignore the longing in those eyes. The hope.
They want, so badly, for him to be something he is not. It is heartbreaking.
And then, finally, Death says "one last test, if you please," and Desire adds, spitefully, "this is the one they all fail," their twin nodding jerkily.
Death calls for Lucienne - ("Lucienne has always been your most faithful servant," Gilbert explains, "a librarian like no other, wise and ever loyal. She remained in the Dreaming, praying for your return, until it crumbled under her very feet...") - and Lucienne strides in.
She freezes, when she locks eyes with Murphy, and there it is again. The flash of hope, quickly tempered, but forever burning.
"The final test." Death instructs her, and with a bow Lucienne sweeps out again, only to return mere moments later with...
-
...with a raven perched on her arm, white-breasted and fine-boned, dark and keen eyes observing Murphy curiously.
-
"Jessamy!" He blurts out, and Death nods.
"Jessamy." She confirms, as Lucienne transfers the raven to her. "My brother's trusted companion. Touch her, now, give her a pat - and if she accepts you as her master, we'll know you're really him."
-
(Gilbert feels the tranquil summer day he has in place of a heart sink. This is what it all hinges on, then?
This is something they had no way of preparing Murphy for. No way to influence it. Jessamy will know him for a fraud, that much he is quite certain of, and their game is up, now. Their game is up.)
Murphy rises up, and goes to kneel at Death's feet, on eye level with the raven - and one has to hand it to him, he looks at her so softly, so adoringly, as if she really were part of his mind and soul and heart, the way Matthew is for Murphy, in truth.
He reaches out one trembling hand, all eyes in the room on him.
(Jessamy twitches her wings, gaze fixed on his hand.)
And then he drops it again.
-
"Jessamy the Raven died as she attempted to rescue me from imprisonment," he says, and his voice echoes, deep and dark as midnight. "Lady Death, you hold an illusion on your arm."
-
Silence in the room. Nobody dares to as much as breathe.
And then Not-Jessamy squawks, bright and approving - and bursts into hundreds of Delirium's incandescent butterflies, dispersing in the air.
They're all staring at him as Murphy gathers his robes up and returns to his seat.
Death stands. If her gaze was glowing with hope before, it is now like a firebrand on his skin.
"Despair? Bring his tools," she says, too soft to be an order, but with steel underneath it.
Despair scrambles up, and returns in moments with the strange helmet that is the symbol of the Dreamlord's power, and his ruby - cracked, but not broken.
(Gilbert, staring at Murphy as if in a trance, produces the sand pouch, and adds it to Despair's arms. Some thought flickers through his mind that those tools would, all taken together, kill a mere human - but that is not what Murphy is, after all, is he.)
Desire takes the ruby, and drapes the chain over Murphy's neck - and he sees it in their golden eyes, feels it in the tremble of their caress against his neck, that they have never desired anything more than their brother back.
Death takes the sand pouch, and presses it into Murphy's hand, closing his fingers around it with such gentleness - she had thought her beloved brother dead for so many years, dead and gone, and there is relief in every fibre of her being.
And then Destiny sets the scraps of his books aside, and takes the helmet in his hands, bidding Murphy to incline his head so that it might be fitted onto him, and he might recover all his past, present, and future.
-
Murphy takes a deep breath.
Closes his eyes.
And bows his head.
-
The helmet slides over his skull as if it was made for him...
And it was.
-
Something changes in the air.
A shifting, like air flowing in to fill up a vacuum.
And something about the-man-who-used-to-name-himself-Murphy changes.
The chapped and broken skin on his hands smooths to the point where his fingertips would not even leave prints; the fabric of his robe sparkles with stars, and floats like mist at nighttime about his form; and when he raises his behelmed head, his spine seems to crack and lengthen, taller now than he was before, too tall and thin to be human.
(Matthew squawks outside the window - and with one beat of his wings he is inside the room, settling on a narrow shoulder.)
-
Hands that have folded lovingly around so many newly-created dreams and nightmares come up, to lift the helmet off again...
And where Murphy's eyes were a watery blue, Dream of the Endless's eyes are midnight-black, with only a single star each glowing in their depths.
-
He blinks.
Looks down at his helmet, then up, at the roomful of Endless - his family - all staring at him in something between disbelief and incandescent joy.
"...siblings," Dream breathes, his chest warm and full as it never was when he was human except perhaps when Hob Gadling smiled at him, surrounded now by all of them...
And "BrOTheR!" Delirium squeals in rainbow tones, jumping up from the floor to throw herself into his arms, where she is immediately held.
"Brother," echoes Death, hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes - and then she, too, is folding him in an embrace, and Desire, and Despair, joining... even Destiny rests one wizened hand on Dream's head, tender and brotherly.
Lucienne is crying into a handkerchief from joy, and Gilbert keeps whispering "oh my. oh, goodness. oh my."...
And Dream holds his siblings close to him, home at last.
-
"Robert! Robert!" Gilbert is gasping, having hurried as quickly as he could. "Robert, you will not believe-"
Hob drops his nearly-done cigarette on the ground, grinds it out with his boot.
"And?" He smiles, though it hardly reaches his eyes. "Did they buy it?"
"He's real! Oh, goodness gracious me!" Gilbert rests one hand on his chest, as if to clutch at pearls there. "He is- Robert, he is the true Dream of the Endless! He, he knew that- and when they gave him the tools-"
"Ah!" Now Hob actually laughs. He fiddles for another cigarette, offers the package to Gilbert, who declines with nothing more but a distracted wave. "That. Yes. I knew that."
"You KNEW!?" Gilbert flusters.
"Since the talk with Unity." Hob's lighter takes a few tries to work. Ghastly thing. "It was me, you know."
"I don't follow." Gil blinks.
"It was good work for hired muscle, guarding some prison in a cellar - and they did say that greater rewards were in store. Riches. Fame." Hob grimaces. The cigarette smoke tastes like ash in his mouth, but he takes a drag anyway. "...immortal life. Thought it would be the best work available to me - and it was. But I couldn't stand it, watching him in there."
Hob blows the smoke up into the air, and thinks of a pale, inhuman face behind a glass pane - and then that same face haggard but human, blue eyes twinkling at him with challenge and fondness both.
"I was the guard who took the sledgehammer to Dream's prison. Woke up a few hours later with a splitting headache, and soon enough they were saying they'd killed him when he tried to escape. Quit, ran, and never looked back."
"By Jove!" Gilbert gasps. "Robert! You've saved him twice over, first in the cellar of the Magus - and now! Returning him to his family! Bless you, lad, bless you!"
Hob lets Gilbert grab his hand and shake it enthusiastically, though he can hardly muster up anything more than a weak smile.
"You should- oh, you should come inside! You must tell this story, see Lord Morpheus returned to full form, the siblings shall wish to thank you-" Gilbert babbles joyfully. "And your reward! Of course! Twice earned, my young friend! Twice earned!"
"Hmm. I don't... think I should." Hob carefully ducks out from the arm Gilbert has thrown over his shoulder. "Leave them to their joyful reunion, eh? Give them a little time to breathe before I remind them of... business."
"Ah, but-" Gilbert tries to protest, but Hob is already starting down the street. He should quit smoking - he already nearly has. Only does it when he's stressed, or heartbroken... or both.
-
He will not bother Dream of the Endless, the man who once was Murphy, with his presence now.
#WyWrites#dreamling#the sandman#anastasia dreamling au#no no no i will not write more of it no#but i'm proud of these snippets and the concept#so out into the world they go#also i really enjoy the thought of grumpy and unpleasant ravenkeeper murphy#slowly softening as hob keeps chatting amicably with him#and slowly learning how to act like otherworldly nobility (with some things coming so easily to him as if he'd always known them)#might write a feeeew more scenes of this au?#but i doubt it'll ever be a full fic#feel free to send me asks or some such about it though!#or about anything else really
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Playing cards!!!!
#Teehee#these were so fun!!!!#mad ducktor#fenton crackshell cabrera#nega fenton crackshell cabrera#nega fenton#negaverse fenton#negaverse fenton crackshell cabrera#madfen#blue Phantom#the blue phantom#ducktales#ducktales 2017#dt17#duckverse#wacky's art#gyro gearloose#madfen royalty au#Alright some of the reasons behind the cards#Diamonds are meant to symbolize the nobility and strength apparently#Sooo NFenton!#The joker is just a silly little guy but also v smart so he’s Mads#(Also because the whole inspiration for this was the song ‘the joker and the queen’ I was like oh the joker and the king!)#For their card together I was going to do the king of hearts#‘Cause they’re in love yknow#However#the king of hearts is uh. the suicide king#(He’s meant to be raising the sword over his head but it looks like he’s stabbing himself in the head so)#So I decided to not do the king of hearts sldlfkgkfl#Blues card is just supposed to be a joke mostly
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Is the Winter King still called the Winter King, or has he been given a new name?
Frost King, AKA Pasha! No longer frozen over by ice, but the frost in his mind still lingers...
#did you know pasha is a diminutive of pavel which is slavic paul#this adds nothing i just thought that's neat#fionna and cake#simon petrikov#the winter king#finn mertens#wk rewind au#i was going to name him sas(c)ha originally but thats the name of my cat#plus pasha has the wordplay of also being a title for nobility
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NEW RELIGION, or AU WHERE ADDAM SURVIVES TUMBLETON AND CHOOSES A DIFFERENT PATH FOR HIMSELF GOING FORWARD
Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk // Captive Prince, C.S. Pacat // Cat’s Eye, Margaret Atwood // Fire & Blood, George R.R. Martin // The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom // Interpretation of Dreams, Sigmund Freud // Angel on Fire - Halsey // Sun Bleached Flies - Ethel Cain // Adonis: Selected Poems, Adonis (tr. Khaled Mattawa) // The Sun Is Also a Star, Nicola Yoon // Three - Sleeping At Last // How’d Your Parents Die Again?, Fatimah Asghar // @tagdevilish // The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom // Gusty Island by Listening Point Foundation // Prayer, Jorie Graham // Loss, H.D. // Crush, Richard Siken // H of H Playbook, Anne Carson // Fifteen - Taylor Swift // The Art of Drowning, Billy Collins // unknown // TOUCH (2019) by Alina Pronskaya // Crush, Richard Siken // In A Week – Hozier // Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out, Richard Siken // Solve for Desire: Poems, Caitlin Bailey // @ghuolboy // Truce - Twenty One Pilots
#valyrianscrolls#preasoiafedit#asoiafedit#velaryonedit#litedit#asoiaf#addam velaryon#corlys velaryon#benjicot blackwood#corlys & addam#addam & ben#edit#*mine#is it even an au if it's possible that it MAY HAVE happened in canon#those 8 years addam's body was missing could be any number of possibile scenarios#I love the idea of benji helping addam to fake his death#after addam became disillusioned by the lies and manipulations of the nobility around him#he starts out his story fully embracing his identity as a velaryon and everything to do with that (whereas alyn is more distant)#but in the end he turns his back on it all aka breaking the cycle (meanwhile alyn seems to have embraced corlys' legacy fully)#benji hides addam away at the isle of faces or raventree hall#maybe addam dyes his hair too#and when addam dies for real at the end of the 8 years his body is returned to his family#I do prefer the isle of faces ending#and if people in westeros wonder why the lord of raventree keeps frequenting the isle well maybe he's just really religious!!!#since addam's name has religious connotations and he's connected to the old gods I might as well go all in with the religious metaphors
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They are in love
Screenshot by @dailydoseofchiscara on Instagram
#chiscara#scaramouche#tartaglia#genshin impact#nobile#childe#genshin ajax#genshin impact fanart#kunikuzushi#kabukimono#wanderer#genshin impact au#chiscara au#they are in love
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Typing a reply made me re-check Big B's paralogue
And I remembered this post where I ranted about some stuff
Big B goes :
It's not exactly a real Relic, per se.
Nope. It's a replica. Crafted after the War of Heroes.
It's a secret family heirloom of sorts from my mom's village.
Now, we know the weapons "similar" to Relics were used during the War of the Eagle and the Lion by Loog's side, so yes, Relics (even if they don't belong to the Elites, they are still powered by Crest Stones and made of Umbral Steel unlike Aymr!) were still being made post WoH.
And that makes me think...
In the earlier post, I was kind of trying to make sense of Willy's conquest and came up with the idea of him brutally putting to the sword/axe/whatever he used the clans and people who knew how to "craft" relics, aka "seeking more power", but also, just people who know because this secret must be hidden at all costs.
Willy's callous actions might have been done with the best intentions (protect Nabateans) but it still led him to slaughter people whose only "sin" was... knowledge.
Fodlan games being what they are, we will not know if Vajra Mushti was made of "material" that was "already harvested" in Zanado, or if a Nabatean - post Zanado - was trounced to craft it, like a random one who was not present during the initial genocide and ultimately was killed for the same reasons. We know Pan was most likely an Agarthan person, was he the one who gifted "new golden weapons" to Loog's side? Were those weapons from "freshly harvested" Nabateans, or made from the "previously harvested" ones whose bones were in the barracks?
Now, concerning Balthus' in particular...
This relic is, per his words, something crafted after the WoH and it was treated as a heirloom in Kupala. Mmkay.
But we also have this :
There's a story they tell where my mom grew up. Long ago, the village got in a squabble with some folks looking to conquer the place.
A village elder gave some holy red stuff to their wounded soldiers. Some kind of liquid, who knows...
After she did that, some of them made a complete recovery, against all odds.
The rest of them were changed, but not for the better. They up and vanished before long.
Crests suddenly manifested for the ones who survived.
The Apostle Chevalier left Garreg Mach after the Rite of Rising and went in the mountains, most likely Kupala.
Then, he gave his blood because some people tried to conquer the village (tfw Kupala is located near the Almyran border?), some people got crests and the others, well, didn't (Balthus wonders what "vanished" means, but maybe it means they were turned in demonic beasts?).
And then... Balthus says the gauntlets were "crafted" (so he calls them replicas) so it's knowledge they were "made" and we know what kind of "material" was used.
Assuming Chevalier was a Nabatean (since the only occurences of people healing and getting a crest thanks to magic blood come from people who got their transfusion from a nabatean, Nopes!Seteth mentions how an Elite was supposedly "cured" after getting a crest...) - this would mean he fails the rite of rising and retires in the mountains, live in a village with humans, humans are threatened so he saves them -
and then he is fucking harvested and crafted in a weapon
(Vajra-Mushti has two crest stones (tfw gauntlet) so maybe some random Agarthan gave them the second "crest stone" if Chevalier only had one)
Nabatean Chevalier helps humans and is harvested as a result by the same humans he saved and who knew they could "craft" weapons from him.
(in the best course of action, just like Aubin, Chevalier died "from natural causes" and humans later used his bones to craft the relic, instead of killing him)
Wouldn't this mean, at the end of the day though, that Willy would be, in this theory, right?
If humans know how to craft "golden weapons", they will craft them, regardless of the nature of the "material" used - the people of Kupala were saved by Chevalier the Nabatean... and they show their gratitude by desacrating his remains to build a weapon and treat "it" as a "family heirloom"
(if not straight up killing him to craft said weapon!)
Given how fond Yuri was of old man Aubin, I picture him having the same reaction as Edward from FMA who found out the "being" he transmuted wasn't his mother, when he will find out "what" is the nifty relic he uses.
(granted, given the age of all parties and how the Fetters of Dromi were previously in Dagda, I wonder if Aubin was the one who was turned in an accessory, or if it wasn't another snow dragon...)
In the end - current Fodlan (or post WoH fodlan) - isn't safe for Nabateans because humans will always seek new "weapons" so what was is the solution to adopt, now that this "knowledge" is out in the wild?
If Willy picked the "erase those who know" option, he slaughters innocent people and doesn't even manage to bury the secret, since Chevalier (and maybe the ones from the Loog War?) was harvested, so he just killed a bunch of people for no results.
Rhea's lie about "gifts from the goddess don't think about it"... was sooner or later not going to work anymore, one of her scholars nearly managed to pierce this secret but desisted, and the few relics that "appear" spontanously, called "replicas" or what not throw a wrench in this narrative (just like crests gifted via transfusion!).
No wonder why Rhea thought only Sothis could find a solution - but anyways, what is the solution in this situation???
#3 nopes#FE16#is it the wilhelm hour?#poor Willy tried to use his weapon to deal with a situation that cannot be dealt with weapons#in that sense he's similar to his descendant who believes Aymr can get rid of nobility#the apostles being nabateans is a hc#but even if they are not#chevalier was a human who sided with nabateans the sheer idea that the people he saved#will later 'craft' their own relic using crest stones and umbral steel is wtf#i blame the ponytail for Yuri and Edward comparison#poor Yuri though he loved the old man a lot and here he goes wearing everything said old man was against#if he was a human or a nabatean by virtue of being an apostle#of course fodlan games and references want to focus on teatime and high school AUs shenanigans#because the rest of the world is so bleak#Nabateans are fucked in Fodlan and idk how to make them 'not fucked' anymore
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Obiyuki Madness 2023
Semifinal 2 - In love with the mark
Sir Obi who is totally not a spy don’t check has everything under control. Totally. Don’t check that either.
The hon. lady Shirayuki Sisk just knows he has an agenda. She simply hopes to convince him elsewise.
AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata
Art: Me
#akagami no shirayukihime#ans#snow white with the red hair#shirayuki#obiyuki#obi#myart#chaos siblings!au#in which obi is a spy in haruka’s employ#and shirayuki was adopted by mihaya#together with her twin torou#and their house has since been raised back into nobility#obiyuki madness 2023#in love with the mark
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Nobility
Pairing: Stable boy! Eddie Munson x Fem! reader
Summery: Eddie was just a mere stable boy who yearned for adventure and a happy ending. Falling in love with a nobleman's daughter was never apart of the plan, nor was stealing her away from the life of luxury she was handed.
AN: This is set up to be a mini series, so depending on how this does ill knock out another part soon. This part is basically all world building, i would have just made it longer to include actual plot but its better this way.
Word count: 5.6k
Living as a stable boy was never a part of Eddie’s life plan. Being the son of a provincial farmer was discouraging enough for the young dreamer, his boyhood was full of work, and no time to be a kid. Generation after generation, the Munson family were victims of the working class. His uncle helped around the quaint farm, helping take care of the small selection of livestock while his father was able to tend to the small plot of land that held an assortment of crops. Farm work wasn't ideal, but at the end of the day, it was honest work. Following his written legacy, Eddie took on the job as a stable boy to provide stability to the small household.
The funds were good, excellent even, seeing as though he worked for the highest noble family in the diminutive village of Hawkins. Nonetheless, while money was generous, Eddie yearned for adventure, and making up stories wasn’t enough for his wandering mind. The young lad was always drawn to fairytales, ones about great wayfarers who got the pleasure of undergoing danger and heroics, and maybe even love if they were fortunate.
But Eddie wasn't a traveler, he's never come close to leaving his small town. The rumors of the edge scared most people from leaving. The woods were filled with trouble, magic, and dangerous beings. Only an idiot would go beyond the edge without proper protection. Hell, Eddie hasn't been to most of the places in his hometown, spending most of his time at the cottage helping around the farm or slaving away in the stables. If he found the time, he would spend his nights at the local pub, his tab growing through the night as he told made-up tales to the locals. Against the barmaid’s pleas, Eddie loved to stand on the long tables, shouting theatrics and acting out sword fights with anyone willing to join in on the fun.
Lucas Sinclair, the baker's son, who had a habit of burning everything he touched was one of the few people who've stuck by Eddie all his life. Mike Wheeler, a sarcastic barkeep who happened to work at the dingy hideout with the rest of his family. The teen did more talking than working, continuously getting told off by his elder sister. Lastly, there was Gareth Emerson, an apprentice for the local blacksmith. His mother was a lovely woman, a lady in waiting who worked alongside Eddie at Cambridge manor. The two had a mutual understanding of life, both families dependent on the only people who seemed to matter in this godforsaken town.
The elders of the village feared the small crowd was supplying the younger residents’ minds with stupidity, a few of them already endeavoring to leave in search of conquest. This never dwindled Eddie’s spirits, in fact, he wished he had the nerve to pull the same stunts, rejecting the cards handed to him for a real taste of freedom.
“I don't know why you won't just leave,” Dustin Henderson was one of Eddie's best friends, he was one of the only people who could keep up with the dramatics that the farmhand lived by. Being one of Eddie’s closest comrades, Dustin also experienced every yearning sigh, every rant of adventure, every sad glance at what could exist in the beyond. “God knows how badly you wish to leave, why force yourself to stick around? Even Wayne has told you to relish in new liberations. Why are you still here?”
“There are things keeping me in this stupid place, I don't know.”
Dustin rolled his eyes at this response, it was no secret that Eddie had eyes for his employer's eldest daughter, “And by things you mean a certain Cambridge who you've barely spoken to, ‘oh Dustin! She looked at me today like really looked at me. Dustin, you won't believe what she said to me today. Her laugh oh her laugh, can you believe I made her laugh’ honestly dude, it's getting kind of embarrassing.”
A deep blush flooded Eddie’s face, I mean yeah he thought you were pretty, and yeah he thought your laugh sounded better than any music he's ever heard. And I mean sure, he thought your eyes were rather fetching, and your hair always looked lovely, and when you wore those tight, tight, riding pants during your lessons near the stables he couldn't help but stare.
But he didn't have a crush on you, Dustin's right, he's barely even spoken to you. It was an unspoken rule that nobles and the working class don’t clash. Your family was likable, but it was social suicide to even consider having a meaningful conversation with the long-haired man.
Shoving the young boy, Eddie fought with his brain to think of a rebuttal. “Listen, it's complicated. I can't just leave, the only thing that would make me leave is if I absolutely had to. Like a life or death situation, or maybe if I was kidnapped.”
Yeah, Eddie adored the fantasy of adventure, but as much as he would love to run away he had a job, responsibilities, and his uncle to take care of. He couldn't abandon all he loved just because he wanted to experience a rush of a crusade. Getting to watch you from afar was just the thing that made his life bearable. So he sat, drank, yelled, and laughed his nights away and in the morning he would suffer a day of hard work. It was his only option, adventure wasn't written in his cards unless an outside force made him have to run.
“You need to get out of here, we need to get out of here. This village is rotting from the inside out. Please, we could leave now it wouldn't be hard.”
“Dustin, we can't. You know we can't. Not now at least.” It was hard to deny the opportunity. If Eddie was a real adventurer he would agree as soon as Dustin asked. He’d run and gather his things and leave before the sun broke through the dark sky. But he wasn't a real adventurer. He was a coward, he was scared of the edge, he was scared of leaving his family, and he was scared of failing.
The night ended soon enough and the group of friends who littered the bar well past closing hours sluggishly swayed home, attempting to get just a little sleep before their day of work began again. This was the routine that was built.
Drink, sleep, work, repeat.
It was a disappointing loop, everyone was living to die. Money was tight, food was scarce, and no one was happy. Yet, Eddie and his crew seemed to be the only ones longing for an out. The poor grew weaker as the rich gained new opportunities.
Dawn broke in the sky bright and early, the roosters waking Eddie up, the natural alarm clock he needed to get on with his day. Dressing in his work linens, he rushed down the old wooden stairs, nearly tripping down the last few into the small kitchen of his dainty hut. Breakfast consisted of three large eggs from the barn, and a warmed slice of stale bread. It was the breakfast of an adventurer, Eddie liked to tell himself. This allowed him to play into his internal fantasy world when in reality, it was the breakfast of an impoverished rural family who could hardly make ends meet.
Eddie was the main source of income for the Munson household. The Cambridge family was a distinguished name in the village of Hawkins. They were the local emissaries for the kingdom of Demo, the family being the only contact people had with the sovereign when they needed resources. Many pleas went unheard, war was looming over the nation and the king believed he had more important duties than making sure his people survived the famish. The Cambridge family could only do so much.
Victor Cambridge was the head of the house. He was wealthy, awarded many luxuries from his position in the noble ranks. He had no time to help care for his lineage, it was no secret that he neglected his family’s needs, preferring to spend every waking hour he had working hard to keep the village from sinking further into filth than it already was. His wife, Virginia, was a kind woman, a lovely lady who had used to be a commoner in her youth. She spent most of her days in charge of the house staff, handing out workloads to the retinue of workers. She was a simple lady, a devotee to her husband and his love.
The couple had three children. The heir, Henry, was a young boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was expected to fill in his father's position as every son for generations has. The stress already fueled the young boy's rage and internal anguish, with no time for play. He was forced to be a man.
The youngest daughter, Alice, was a shy sprite of a girl. She was a mere child, easily influenceable, a small little field mouse who was rarely given the opportunity to flourish. She was tenacious and rotten, often using leverage over the staff to get what she asked for, a behavior often demonstrated by her father.
Lastly, there was you. As the family's Eldest daughter, you understood the politics of the town and the detrimental situation of those in the working class. Being a daughter of a nobleman, you were often ignored even when you tried to make your voice heard. Women had no place in the world of war.
Eddie looked up to you, he’s overheard tales from other staff members of instances where you stood up for those who needed a voice; turning a blind eye when a break lasted too long, indulging the staff in royal gossip, and being one of the few members of the family to treat the staff as human. While you were headstrong, speaking out was still against the rules, and in fear of diminishing the Cambridge name, you slipped into the background most days. However, Eddie would never see you as a simple background character. You were the girl of his dreams, a kind spirit, a work of art.
Eddie knew little to nothing about you, but he was head over heels. A small crush that plagued his thoughts and fueled his existence in a silly fantasy he could indulge in while going about his day. He had a sweet image of you fabricated in his creative mind. You were a delicate flower who’d love him eternally, even if he was a simple man who worked for your family.
He was lucky enough to secure a position under the Cambridge family, many wished to work in such a position, and being in the right place at the right time paid off. Eddie could still remember the day he was offered the job, walking past the luxurious manor just as the old stable boy was thrown to the curb. Rumor states he was stealing jewels from the family and was finally caught. When Victor noticed Eddie standing, watching the commotion go down, he was offered a job. Eddie would have been stupid to turn down the offer, and his small history of working on a farm for his family was enough to give him a confidence boost to accept.
Work was far from glamorous, many hours were spent shoveling horse manure and caring for the horses under the hot sun. However, some days Eddie was granted the opportunity to teach the Cambridge children their riding lessons. The family had a professional instructor to aid in classes but with the impending war, it wasn't rare for her to be called away, handing the torch over to the stableboy.
Teaching the younger children was always a low point of his day, but these instances were some of the only opportunities Eddie had to properly speak with you. Mumbling dumb jokes that forced you to stifle a laugh, listening to you softly rant about your morning, and discussing the duties he was forced to partake in for work. However, his favorite moments were those when he could slip in a small compliment in passing. The flustered look you'd shoot his way always made the risk of getting in trouble worth it.
‘My lady, have I ever told you that you are the sunlight through a window in which I stand, warmed and welcoming.’
‘Edward, I don't appreciate flattery.’
‘Nonsense. Venus in her shell was never so lovely, and Diana in the forest never so graceful as you’
‘Shut up’ A soft smile graced your face as you made an attempt to shy away from him. The huge grin Eddie presented went unnoticed
His favorite memory was a recent one. A month or so ago the heel of your boot got caught against the stirrup of the saddle. Your shriek rang through his ears, fear in your voice as the ground rushed towards you, but Eddie was quick, as he managed to catch you in his arms. The smell of your floral perfume clouded his mind as you begged him not to drop you. ‘only a fool would drop a girl like you’. The shy expression that graced your face at his words as you let a soft smile slip through the elegant façade was enough to put Eddie in the best spirit for the rest of the day.
Eddie couldn’t help but think you were the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Your passing conversation was enough to leave a smile on his face, he’d envision your laughter while he worked, and the gleam in your eyes would help to make time speed by faster. And most of the time Eddie would imagine what it would be like if you were in one of his stories, one where he was the hero who got to fall in love with the princess. But of course, he was just your average stable boy, none of him worthy of a maiden such as a nobleman’s daughter, especially not one as beautiful as yourself.
Today was no different, when Eddie rode in on his less-than-impressive family steed, you were already seated in the lush garden on an expensive blanket, enjoying your breakfast with a book in hand. The food on the cloth were commodities Eddie couldn't even dream of enjoying. Imported fruits, fresh bread still producing a soft steam from the cool morning air, sweet tarts from the king's baker himself, and small sandwiches that would look ridiculous between his calloused fingers.
The dress that rested against your plush skin was expensive, everything about you and your family was expensive. Your gaze lifted from the crisp pages of your book to glance towards the stable boy as if you felt his lingering gaze taking in every detail of your being.
The breath Eddie was holding was sucked away when you beamed his way with a short wave. Your family was less than kind, a smile like that was rare, but being on the receiving end felt like heaven. You weren't supposed to converse with the commons who littered the grounds of the manor, your siblings had no trouble following that authority, but you were never a stickler for every rule. You were often found gossiping with the gardener, telling stories to the cooks, and being friendly with the cleaners. Eddie was internally grateful when he learned Gareth’s mother worked under your authority, a kind soul, rather than the evil that plagued your family.
That's one of the things Eddie was enamored with. You were beautiful, gorgeous, ethereal even, but your kindness even if rarely directed towards him was admirable. The smile Eddie's way was enough to kick him into gear, sending him straight to the barn with a flush of red gracing his cheeks.
The day was a slow day for the pair, Eddie’s daily chores were already complete and your lessons were cut short due to a small royal emergency. Deciding to make the most of your free time you snuck out around the distant barn to the stables, picnic basket resting in the crook of your elbow as you searched for your favorite boy. Of course, Eddie didn't know you felt that way, you've barely interacted, but he always treated you with such devotion and care without treating you like some princess. It was romantic, even if he was only being friendly.
“Sir Munson, it's awfully warm out today. Care to join me for lunch?”
The sound of your voice was enough to make Eddie jump. This was the most you'd spoken to him in a day, it was rare for your paths to cross. And yet you had put in the effort to seek him out. Your previous attire was replaced with a simple dress, one he’s never seen on someone with such high power. You were wearing a commoner’s dress.
“Oh, I don't think your father or mother would approve of such, don't you think my lady?” The soft words were spoken as Eddie dropped to a small bow, still able to make eye contact. His big puppy eyes stared into your soul as a small smirk graced his lips.
“Maybe I'm done following the rules?”
“All the rules? Lady Y/N, murder is a very serious commitment. Do you wish to be burned at the stake for this outrageous announcement?” A hand was sent to his chest, an exaggerated gasp slipped from his pink lips as he did his best to give you a serious look.
"You know that's not what I mean Sir Munson.”
“Oh no no no, I'm positive I heard you say all the rules. Are you here to convince me to be an accomplice for these heinous crimes you wish to commit? An aristocratic woman like yourself should know better.” As he initially sought to receive, you offer him a soft giggle. It filled Eddie’s mind with sweetness and sunshine.
“Okay, maybe not all the rules. But I think you deserve a lovely meal for all of your hard work, don't you?”
“As you wish.”
With a smile, Eddie swiped his arm in another bow, a silent lead the way hung in the air as he followed you through the wooden gate of the barn, down the grassy hill, towards a huge blooming willow tree. There was a river nearby, adding the soft sound of trickling water to the air. This was a spot many knew well by the staff. It was one of the only places that provided a sense of peace, especially during a hard day of work. The destination was far enough from wandering eyes, but near enough where if called you could rush back to the manor without much worry.
Offering you a soft glance, Eddie took the basket from your arms, opting to be a gentleman, and set out the picnic that you'd brought along. It was the least he could do, you were jeopardizing everything your family stood for by being near him, let alone offering him a small feast for his hard work. Your kindness would be thought about for months, anything you did lived in his mind for ages. A soft conversation lulled between the two of you, today was one of many firsts.
“What's it like working in the stables? I've always wondered what it was like to have a proper job.”
“It's a lot of work if I'm being honest. I've always lived on a farm so caring for horses is nothing new. I think the worst part of the job is the fear of messing up. If I mess up on my farm it's okay, my horses are cheap, if I don't braid their manes or something, everything is fine. But here? Here I feel the impending doom that one mistake will have my head on a spike. Don't get me wrong, your family has never threatened me, but there is always that fear that comes with working. I enjoy it though, it's good money.” Eddie was right, finger sandwiches looked hilarious held between his fingers. “I think you're lucky, god knows I wouldn't wish for a job if I got to live in luxury as you do. Being poor is the only thing the village is known for, a noble like you wouldn't fit in with the working class. Nice dress by the way.”
The silence between you two was deafening. Eddie didn’t mean to overstep, his mouth moving faster than his mind. It was no secret that no matter how kind nobles were to their people, everyone despised the rich. Especially in the villages with high poverty rates.
However, implying you wanted to play dress up as an impoverished maiden wasn't the way to your heart, even if Eddie didn't mean to be crude. God, here you were providing him with a lunch fit for a king, better than the staff typically get, sitting with him under a gorgeous willow tree, asking him about his life, and he goes and blew it.
“I'm so sor-”
With a soft breathy laugh, you interrupt him, “You're right, wishing to be a commoner is ridiculous. I just hate it here so much you know? It's lonely. And I see all of the staff have a found family of sorts while I'm forced to keep to my bubble. I can't remember the last conversation I had with either of my parents. Nannies can only do so much, I'm tired of being prim and proper. I wish things were different, I think that's why I look up to you. You and everyone else in the town are dealt, pardon my French, shitty cards, and yet I've overheard you in the kitchens, talking about your nights in the tavern and it just makes me smile.” You risk a glance towards Eddie, offering a look of awe. There was no hurt behind your eyes, Eddie had not overstepped like he thought he had. You looked up to him.
All his life Eddie had assumed that a life of money provided enough stability to feel content no matter what problems were thrown your way. Nobles and kings didn’t have to work all day to afford a loaf of bread. They didn’t have to worry about cold winter nights harming a loved one when the temperature dropped too low, they should be happy. Yet, here you stood sharing your sorrows with the stable boy. Loneliness was a burden no one should carry. People always say money can’t buy happiness, and now Eddie had living breathing proof that statement was true.
You looked up to him.
“I��ll tell you what. Pick a day, I’ll risk everything to sneak you into the tavern. You can drink to your heart's content, stand on tables, yell and laugh as loud as you want. You can meet new people, I’ll introduce you to my friends, you can have people in your corner for once. It'll help to give you your freedom, you deserve it.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, I'd do anything for you, my lady.”
The conversation took a lighter turn, hope filling the air. Eddie told you all of the stories his friends have gone tired of listening to. He showed you how to sword fight using branches he ripped from the willow and he was able to make you laugh when he let you win, dropping to the ground in a dramatic defeat. The little bubble under the willow was enough to relish in this newfound fantasy. There were no nobles and commoners. No rich and poor, Just you and Eddie being able to enjoy a newfound friendship.
Eddie could still imagine the shocked look that fell onto your face when he made you laugh so hard that let out an unattractive snort. The action was quite unladylike, something that would get you in trouble within the manor walls, which only fueled the fire, making the pair double over in a fit of laughter once more.
You told him of your favorite novels, ones quite similar to the stories Eddie loved to tell. You shared the new gossip that flittered throughout the manor recently. He even told you all about the time that he and his friends had gotten so drunk they barfed all over the floor, leaving the poor Wheeler family to care for the rowdy group in their state of intoxication.
The best part was the moment when you begged Eddie to teach you how to climb a tree for the first time. He showed you how to scale the thick branches of the willow tree, before climbing down to help you do the same. A dark blush erupted across his face when he accidentally got a glance up your dress. In his humble opinion, the memory he will cherish forever was being able to watch you attempt to hang down from a thick branch. Your knees bent, attempting to keep hold while you laughed, begging him to make sure you didn’t fall.
‘Eddie! Please if I fall I'll kill you, I'll do it. I'm gonna die, holy- don't let me fall. Eddie! I’m gonna fall, don't drop me! Please! Please I'm begging’
The shrieking of your words masked by the laughter you slipped out. And as a true gentleman, he gave you the same response he gave you months ago.
‘Relax, only a fool would drop a girl like you.’
The sacred moments were over faster than either of you had hoped, the two of you stood barefoot in the river, splashing water and giggling together. Your hands reach out between you as you grasp tightly onto Eddie's fingertips, eyes disappearing from how wide your smile was. It was the happiest you had felt in a long while until your name was called from a distance.
Your disappearance was finally noticed.
Eddie waved you off, offering to clean up so you didn’t get in more trouble for running off than you no doubt were already in. With one last grin, brighter than he's ever been offered before, you ran away leaving Eddie to marvel at the experience he had just lived. Not only did you offer to spend the afternoon with him under the hot sun, but you laughed with him, you talked to him, you showed him a new side of you he's never seen before, and you looked up to him.
He couldn't wait to share this moment with anyone who would listen. A new fantasy to fuel his day of work, one where you fell in love with him, one where you ran away from responsibility and expectations. One where he was your hero, giving you the life you yearned for.
One where it was just you and Eddie.
Being home was never something Eddie enjoyed. It was a reminder of the way the world worked. The doors of the cottage were rotting, mildew sprouted from the walls and the thatch on the roof had microscopic holes that allowed rainwater to dribble in during a storm. It was ugly and smelled awful, but it was home. Dinner had gone and passed, and as Eddie prepped for a night of rest, the thoughts of his afternoon danced through his mind.
The way you looked at him like he was a person, a friend. It was new. Eddie wasn't stupid, today changed nothing, he was still just a mere stable boy, you would marry a wealthy man, a prince if you were lucky, and rule over a village just like Hawkins. It was written in your cards, just as working to survive was in Eddies.
Sleep was short-lived, Eddie barely drifted off into a slumber before the sound of pebbles hitting his window had awoken him. It wasn't rare for one of his friends to wake him in the middle of the night, the dark was the perfect time to do things that aren't acceptable to do during the day, but tonight Eddie wanted a night of rest.
Deciding to ignore the sound, he closed his eyes in an attempt to seek the comfort he desired until the sound of something heavier hit his window. It was clear the perpetrator wasn't going to leave without a fight, and Eddie was forced to drag himself out of the straw mattress he called his bed.
Throwing on a few layers of clothes, enough to hang out if his friends wouldn't take no for an answer, Eddie crept down the stairs, making as little noise as possible. The thought of waking his uncle wasn't something he wished to do.
Opening the door, Eddie came face to face with Dustin, who has a weary smile on his face. Behind him stood the rest of their shared friends. Gareth stared Eddie down with a deep unreadable stare as Mike and Lucas avoided eye contact, like two children being scorned by an angry parent. They all shared a skittish look, one that could only mean trouble. Eddie was used to solving their problems, especially after the many nights the group spent drinking away their sorrows at the hideout.
“What did you do Henderson?” His question was answered by a different voice. Not one he was used to hearing, a soft yet cheerful sound, one he recognized immediately.
“Eddie! Hello, wonderful night isn't it? It seems as though I've been taken for ransom,” There, thrown over the back of a horse, one of your horses, you shot Eddie a wide smile. You were tied by your wrists and ankles, dressed in a long satin slip that was made no doubt for sleep. The look you shot Eddie was one of amusement, as if this was the best thing to ever happen to you. Aggressively rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Eddie did a double take towards where you were draped, just behind a stuffed satchel, no doubt filled with supplies.
“Shush, you're supposed to be a hostage. Really, Eddie, she's been cracking jokes this whole time. I think she's perfect for you. You know, I thought you were crazy. I mean what poor man falls in love with royalty, but now I see why,” The young boy shot Eddie a wide smile before glancing your way.
“I'm sorry, what on earth is going on here? Why Is she tied up? Why are you all here? What the hell is happening?”
“You said you wanted an adventure, now we have one. You're looking at your adventure party!”
“That doesn't mean kidnapping a princess?”
You let out a quip in response even though no one seemed willing to acknowledge you at the moment, ‘for the record, not a princess.’
“You said you would leave this sad excuse for a village if it were life or death… your life is currently on the line. You also said you would leave if you were kidnapped. We kidnapped. This is literally what you asked of me!”
“Dustin, I swear to every higher being... you're insane. I aid if I was kidnapped, not just anyone? This is crazy, you’re all crazy.'' The exasperated look on Eddie's face made you stifle a giggle. In reality, this whole situation should be terrifying, but Eddie was nice. When Dustin appeared in your room that night he had mentioned being a friend of Eddie’s. Your conversation from the afternoon still stuck in your mind, you willingly followed out of the window, only to be tied up.
“Hey, I am doing you a favor, though we need to hurry, time is running out.”
“Time? We need to return her, what are you on about?”
“Well, when we took her we left a note. Well, we didn't really take her, it was easier than I thought. She was very willing when we mentioned your name. Anyways, we left her family a note and they think you, my dear friend, kidnapped her.”
“Me? Henderson I swe-”
“As I said, time is running short, get on her horse, I'll grab one from your barn and we can be on our way. We already have plenty of supplies, food, weapons, first aid, clothes. You don't really have a choice here do you?” The young boy shot Eddie one last smile before jogging towards the farmland behind the cottage.
With a frustrated cry, Eddie took a solemn glance toward his cottage before reflecting on the men standing in front of him. These were his closest friends, and they were jeopardizing everything to give him the one thing he's always yearned for. They were his family, his people. Each one stared back at him with the same look.
‘This is how we get out.’
Call him a fool, but Eddie was handed the perfect opportunity to seek adventure. Granted this wasn't the tale he imagined. He was now the villain, but it was still a chance at freedom. Sighing he hopped on the horse you were draped across. This was it. Eddie wanted an adventure, now he had one. With a final glance towards the three other men that surrounded him, he took a deep breath before commanding the horse to ride towards the dark edge.
Crossing over the threshold would mean no turning back, they would be fugitives for the rest of their lives. With one final glance towards the world, they once knew the party set off.
This was the only chance of newfound freedom.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson au#eddie munson#eddie munson x female!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things x reader#🪲 my work#stable boy!eddie#Eddie Munson royal au#nobility universe
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