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(Gregory Violet x reader) Admiration
Violet Wolf. The house meant for the arts. You felt conflicted at the almost haunted look the main dorms had, before shaking your head to let it go. 'It would be future inspiration.' You had been telling yourself that for ages. Today would be the day you put justice to your words.
You sat down on the grass, and flipped open your sketch book. You flipped through it, trying to find at least one clean page. You finally found the last one and pulled out a pencil and eraser. All your other pencils of varying shades were in your dorm room.
Classes were done for the day so many people went around you in their way back to the dorms. Your fingers became black from graphite, and the picture before you slowly took on life. Soon the buildings and varying background was complete. The building seemed to be lacking spirit though. This was the violet wolf house. If anybody should be able to bring spirit to their house, it should be these students.
You drew in a few people who you saw, but none seemed
Procrastination (Lawrence Bluer x reader)
Sapphire Owls. House for academics. You were subconsciously surprised. You spent your entire life being top of your classes, but always wondered why. You studied, but it must have been natural genius. You had one fatal flaw. Procrastination. And yet, you were in the top two of your all your classes. You would forever be below Lawrence Bluer, and for a good reason. He was a prefect. The best in the entire school for his own house's speciality.
What surprised you though, was that on the day before a written essay was due, Lawrence was in the library. That alone did not alert you, no, it was rather natural. In fact, the Sapphire Owls had their own library, with almost just as many books as the school's official library. What had you alerted was simply deduction. The books you required for information on this specific essay were on Bluer's table. All of them.
There was only one solution, and you hoped it wouldn't be considered rude. You slipped into the seat across from him, pulling out so
(Edgar Redmond x reader) Elegance
Scarlet Fox. House of nobility. Edgar Redmond and his fag were the two most beautiful souls in the entire campus. But Remond's being a prefect was much more than that. He represented Scarlet Fox through a degree of grace, elegance, and style. He, like a rose, could be luscious as the petals and then cruel as the thorns if he had to enforce or authorize discipline.
That's the brief poem left by a rose in the vast gardens behind the Scarlet Fox dorms. A poem left by you, he knew. The scent of the flowers you always carried was infused in the black ink and white parchment. A gorgeous, red flower pinned in your hair which always caught Redmond's attention. It wasn't just the flower though. It was the way you carried yourself, your elegance, the way you made people think you were the centre of the vast universe with just one look. Or at least that was what Redmond believed.
He slipped a perfectly folded note from his pocket and placed it back on the bench, placing his own rose with the one
Sebastian Michaelis x reader (connection)
There wasn't so much as a glance needed at these events. Adorned in a beautiful gown, violin music and piano in the background as you watched people dance. Across the room a man glanced at you. Or in your vague direction. You held it for a brief moment before finding out that they were staring at you. You then bowed your head in some shyness.
The next heartbeat, much too close given how fast a human could move, a gloved hand was held out to you. You took it from etiquette, nothing more, nothing less.
You didn't get a good look at that man until you two were on the dance floor. One of his arms went around your waist, another taking your hand. You noticed his pale, flawless skin before glancing upwards.
Red, an unsettling, wine-like hue, coloured eyes looked into yours. You felt as if you were being studied and you rather quickly bowed your head just enough to avoid his firm stare.
You spun around with elegance, grace, perfection. He was firm, strong, and just as graceful as you. The vio
Maturity rites (Chekov x reader)*Note: I'm not writing Chekov's accent in the dialogue
"I saved the universe yet I'm not old enough to get a drink?"
The Russian accent was thick, and Chekov watched Sulu tip back another drink of sake. Chekov pouted lightly, stirring a straw in his water, thinking that perhaps people would assume he had a drink in hand.
"Want some of mine?"
Chekov looked up to see you with a glass of Romulan ale, the colour and scent of it making it rather easy to guess.
"No; I don't drink anything but vodka."
You sat down and put the glass before you, watching Sulu get up with some excuse about dancing. He them drunkenly dragged McCoy onto the dancefloor who began protesting loudly before Kirk took his place. You laughed at the antics before glancing at Chekov.
You then waved your hand and told the purple-hued waiter to bring you some vodka. They nodded and Chekov looked at you with wide-eyes.
"Of course. You've drunken it before, right?"
"Da- I mean, yes. Of course."
Chekov copied your wor
Welcome and myths (Elrond x child!reader)When Erestor stood before him, shivering and clothes wet, bloody and truly looking hurt, Elrond did not question him. He merely took off his heavy robe and placed it over Erestor's shoulders. He took Glorfindel's offered one and wrapped up the small bundle Erestor had in his arms. His deft fingers made Erestor look at him, as if Elrond was reading all his thoughts and troubles. As if trying to find out what had happened.
Without a word he beckoned Elrohir and Arwen to come. To Arwen he passed the bundle, who instantly held it like it should be, a motherly instinct taking over. To Elrohir he entrusted his councillor after pressing a kiss to Erestor's cheekbone, the only place not covered in mud and scrapes.
With eyes set firmly and without a single weakness showing he stepped towards the group of elves from Mirkwood. He noticed a few had dark hair, from Rivendell surely. His gaze ripped them apart, even Galadriel could do it so hostile.
A single word was said harshly, full of
Bravery (Teen!Legolas x reader)
"You are a prince, you have to at least seem strong."
Legolas bite his lower lip, problems and questions becoming mute. He tried to match his father's grace, a lack of bow and arrow making him feel oddly vulnerable and lighter. He walked a step behind and to the right of Thranduil. His feet created no noise upon the stones of Imladris, but his ears did hear Elrond making a light noise. A trait he was used to another making.
He couldn't look at the Lord of Rivendell, something Elrond noticed but didn't comment on. He had heard rumours. He led both of his guests to the same pavilion which hosted the white council meetings. White and purple flowers adorned it, blossoming between golden and green leaves. Rivendell was truly breathtaking, perhaps the most beautiful abode in all of middle earth. A place much different the Mirkwood, where elves could truly link to their surrounding nature.
He tried to keep his face neutral though, not looking around like the fool he felt he was. When he saw y
(Thranduil x reader x Legolas) Let it go
"Does the temperature change in regard to season?"
Your eyes watched shimmering pools of water, streams intricate, small waterfalls cascading downwards. The walls were damp where the fire's heat did not reach, especially higher up. Looking upwards, it seemed to go on forever before becoming a pure black. Columns ran upwards making arches, all with curlicue Elven patterns of an odd design. It was a merge of various Elven styles, and you could note each influence in this cave. Especially the bridge, it spoke of Doriath and Menegroth, of times now lost.
"Nay, you will have to bear the cold. You should not stand so much in the dark, the fires will have to be a substitute for the warmth of the sun."
But nothing can ever substitute the sun. There were no trees and plants, gardens or plains to roam. There were no more starry night skies where you could spend all night looking at the mysteries out of your own world. No more blue skies or rainfalls, and most of all, no more Erestor or Glorfinde
5 moments (Thranduil x reader)
"Where are we going?"
The moonlight made his blond hair look silver as he brought you outside, to a sight you did nog see often. The shadows enveloping Mirkwood looked almost natural in the dead of the night. You could close your eyes, forget about the darkness, and be back where you once grew up. The forests of Mirkwood.
"I've been losing so much sleep. I've been praying to the valar too much."
"About what, my king?"
Thranduil didn't say anything, turning around with a small white light in his hands. Elder magic? Or simply a candle you could not see? He didn't let you guess as he placed it on a branch above his head. He then looked upwards into the dark abyss of night. His response was one he kept to himself 'how to confess'.
"Remember when we used to lite up the entire forest for your birthday?"
You gave a small nod but that was centuries ago. He glanced from the white light on the branch to the stars above.
"There's only one reason I haven't let Mirkwood fall. Because the stars look
Black Butler Seven Minutes In Heaven GregoryViolet
“It seems to be that time, again.” With an over dramatic sigh, Grell stumbled over to you and grasped your hand. “Hurry girl, I fear I won't be lasting much longer, my vision has grown weak, and my muscles ache.”
Though you were more than willing to play, and very glad he'd chosen you, there was no way you were going to fall for his act. “Grell, this is only a game, if such trivial things exhaust you, perhaps you should consult with a physician.” Knowing you'd probably upset him with your snide remark, you walked yourself up to his purse and picked an item. You looked down at your item and crinkled up your nose. “I haven't the slightest idea what I'm holding right now.” In your hand was a gray mass of an almost clay like substance.
When you lifted your eyes from the strange item, there was a cloaked figure standing only inches from you. “It's an eraser, best used with charcoal.” After grabbing his eraser fr
Crazy. Cheslock X Reader
“What a strange place. It's absolutely nothing like I'd imagined it would be.” Doing your best to remain inconspicuous, you looked around at the tall, beautiful stone buildings that surrounded you. “Now, if I could just find the right building.” Though it would have made thinks much easier if you simply asked one of the many people bustling around you, you couldn't take the risk. After a few more moments of searching, your eyes locked with a familiar face. Before you could escape he was standing directly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders.
With wide eyes Cheslock began roughly shaking you back and forth. “It's you, you're that girl. The girl from that stupid party.”
“Yes you blubbering idiot, it's me. Now shut your gaping yap before you start attracting the flies.” You shoved him off of you and crossed your arms over your chest. “Tell me, how on earth did you see through my disguise so
Black Butler Seven Minutes In Heaven Herman
Grell walked straight up to you without saying a single word. He dangled his red handbag in front of your face and offered a wide, toothy smile.”I suppose you've already guessed as much, but you're going to be our next player.”
“O-oh, am I? That's nice I suppose.” Grell was so close you couldn't even stand up to pick your item. Because of this, you had a very hard time reaching into his purse. When you finally managed to maneuver your hand into the handbag, you grabbed the first thing you touched. This item, was for some reason very heavy. “W-what on earth is in this thing?”
Somehow, already knowing you'd chosen his item, Herman stood up and began to walk towards you. He spoke in a loud, assertive voice that you were sure the better half of England could hear. “That is a weighted ankle brace. It's not even five pounds, you should be able to lift it with ease.” Now right beside you, he grabbed the weight f
Black Butler Seven Minutes In Heaven Cheslock
“Oh my dear mercy, there are a lot of you aren't there?” Grell placed the back of his hand on his forehead and swooned directly into your lap. “I fear I've grown ever so terribly feint my dear girl. You'll have to see yourself up.”
“Oh, you poor dear, do you need something to drink? I'd hate to think you're suffering on my account.” With a worried look, you ran your fingers through Grell's deep red hair.
“No, no, just leave me.” Grell cupped his hand next to his mouth and whispered to you. “I'm fine, but with any luck, my dear Bassy will come to rescue me.” He winked and waved you away. “Now go, have a good time my kind darling.”
“O-okay then, if you insist.” After gently removing Grell from your lap, you stood to your feet and straightened out the wrinkles in your dress. With Grell still moaning and complaining behind you, you walked to the center of the large room and placed your hand inside his
Saying Please (Claude Faustus x Reader)
(Claude Faustus x Reader)
“Why not?” You puffed out your cheeks and crossed your arms over your chest in a pouting manner as Claude continued stirring the cookie-dough.
“Because,” he said simply. You rolled your eyes and groaned loudly.
“You sound just like a parent…”
Claude turned, his face completely serious, with the spatula in his hand. He held it out to you.
“Bribing me with cookie-dough?” You asked flatly. Your eyes flickered from the spatula, to Claude’s expressionless face, then back to the spatula again. Finally, you snatched it from him. “This doesn’t make me happy, but it doesn’t hurt things.”
You thought you might have seen the smallest ghost of a grin on Claude’s face as he lifted you, with little effort, onto the kitchen counter. You opened your mouth to protest, but Claude’s intense gaze stopped you.
Behind the Scenes Claude X Reader (oneshot)
It was another busy day behind the scenes. Your hair was a mess, you'd ripped your pants at the knee, and you were pretty sure you had either blood, or cherry sauce on your face. But what was worse than all of that? You were late, very, very late. Trying your hardest to make up for lost time, you ran through the cramped halls of the studio, just barely missing a table of refreshments. “Finally.” You reached a door with the name “Claude” written in bold letters. As quietly as you could, you opened the door. Claude was standing back to the door, staring out a window. “I-I'm back sir, I got-.”
“It's about time you got back.” Claude cut you off. “Well, where are they? I don't have all day, and I have to practice.”
You silently handed him a shoebox. The special tap dancing shoes he'd needed for the next scene had somehow been ruined. Since the film company didn't have any on hand, it was up to you to find them, not an easy t
Black Butler Seven Minutes In Heaven Canterbury
“You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I actually prefer letting the girls go again and again. They're much kinder to me than those cold hearted, insensitive boys I've let play.” Grell hunched over, letting his arms dangle above the floor and sighed. “But no one wants to hear me complain, I'm sure, so let's just get the next player.” He straightened his back and slowly looked over the group. It took him several passes to finally pick you as the next player. Crooking his finger back, he gestured for you to come up front. “I suppose you'll have to do. Come on now.”
“If you'd rather someone else play, why don't you just keep looking? I don't want to simply suffice.” With an attitude most would describe as snobby, you stood up from the couch, straightened out your dress and waltzed up to Grell's purse. After carefully placing your hand inside, you pulled out a dirty, white glove. “Heavens, someone needs
Black Butler Seven Minutes In Heaven Timber
Grell silently stood in front of the room, pressed his fingertip to his lips and quickly looked around. A second or two later, he strutted up to you with a wide smile on his face and held out his hand. “I believe you're going to be absolutely perfect for this next turn.” Grabbing on to your hand, he pulled you to your feet and tugged you towards his almost empty, red purse. “Well, come on now, don't dawdle about, we haven’t got all day you know.”
“I'm going as fast as I can, but you were standing right in front of me so I could hardly move.” Thrilled your turn had finally come, you freed your hand from Grell's and reached into his purse. So excited you'd actually begun to shake, you steadied your hand and pulled a wooden spatula from inside. “Oh, it looks like I got myself a cook.”
Knowing the item in your hand was his, Timber stood to his feet without any prompting and walked over to you. He didn't bother takin
We Can Try Claude x Reader
“What in the world is going on here?” Uncomfortable and unable to sleep, you tossed and turned underneath the thick blankets until you realized why it was you weren't sleeping comfortably. “No, not again.” Already knowing what you would see, you opened your eyes to a dark, dusty room that was not your own. Scrambling from the bed, still in your night clothes, as you had been when you went to sleep, in your own bed, you rushed to the door an peeked outside. Judging by how quiet it was, you assumed that no one else would be awake. “This really does have to stop. It's getting ridiculous.” Just before you decided to leave the room, you noticed a set of clothes. They were perfectly placed and folded on the edge of the bed, complete with shoes and jewelry. These weren't your clothes of corse, but you knew they were meant for you to wear. Glad you wouldn't have to go out dressed indecently, you walked away from the cracked
(Herman Greenhill x reader) Chasing
Green lion. The house for sports. You could feel the grass and dirt give slightly under your foot before you ran towards the net. The ball at your feet were kicked in small strokes, quickly, and never allowed to be touched by any other. As you neared the net you kicked it with great force, hitting the bottom edge of it so it lifted its way above the head of the goalie.
They jumped and caught it, causing some first year students to wince at seeing that the goalie had bare hands. Many found they couldn't take it. And they wouldn't last. The Green Lion house, though held auditions to get in, always kicked a good handful out at the beginning. Many students didn't take to like the roughness. But others, like you, thrived in it.
The feel of wind on your face, pushing your body to the limit, gliding through the air or kicking off rain-soaked ground. This was what you were good at. And Herman Greenhill could see that.
The day was slightly chilly, making a few wear sweaters over their sports un
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