#i might try one day faking a braid that looks like it's *more* than 3 strands

[ssspringroll]

ok hi and lo poly versions of each braid shape now. the low poly ones are a little pointy BUT they significantly reduce the overall poly count of the braid. so if you're gonna be having a lot of small braids, or even just any amount of small (diameter, not length) braids, then lo poly is probably the way to go. If the braid is meant to be a centerpiece/object that draws attention/large chunky radius/just one braid in the whole hair, then a hi poly would be a better choice.

(these braids are the exact same length and shape, as they were both following the same exact curve, and you can see the triangle count (which should be the poly count in s4s) drop from 13k to only 3k. 13k would be pushing it for an entire hair's polycount, so its definitely still pretty demanding to put a braid in, but not as demanding as it would be to literally braid 3 strands of geometry like i've seen a bunch of tutorials demonstrating. im not even gonna try that.)

[ataliagold]

Flowers In Your Hair

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1249

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness

Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

___

“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”

Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.

Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”

Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”

Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”

“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”

Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”

Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.

She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”

Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”

“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.

Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.

She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”

“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”

Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”

“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“Eddie?”

A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.

“Yeah, supergirl?”

“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”

Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”

El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”

And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?

Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”

“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.

“Yup.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”

And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.

At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.

He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.

“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”

They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.

Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.

By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.

“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”

Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”

El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.

Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”

Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.

Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.

Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.

This is stupid.

Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.

Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.

Almost.

Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.

Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.

It opened after a moment.

“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.

Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”

Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.

When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”

“I love them, Eds.”

___

[master-muffinn]

Tensura slime- as their best friend

With: Benimaru, Velzard, Leon, Guy Crimson (a bit suggestive warning on Guys part)

Benimaru

🔥 You and Benimaru train a lot together, helping each other to improve and get stronger.

🔥 You two will compete with each other a lot. If it isn't sparing, then it’s in who defeats the most enemies.

“Look y/n! I caught a bigger fish than you! I'll win!”

“Yeah but I caught much more fish than you, which will feed more people, so I'll win!”

🔥 Benimaru tries to include you in everything so that you don’t need to feel left out. If there's a meeting, he’ll ask for your option. If Shuna or Rimuru send him on a job or errand, he’ll ask you if you want to come along (unless it’s an important mission).

🔥 Thanks to Benimaru you have also been dragged in to eat Shions food. But see it on the bright side! You are now poison resistant and have a really strong stomach! Or you just simply die together…Good luck!

Velzard

❄ Velzard will always greet you with a hug and ask you how you've been doing! 

❄ Going out shopping and eating together.

❄ Velzard would let you braid her hair. If you are bad at it, she'll teach you!

❄ She is good at noticing if something is off with you and will confront you about it. She won't accept these ‘I'm fine’ with fake smiles. Velzard will sit down with you on the couch. Holding you and looking at you with concern in her eyes until you decide to tell her what's wrong. She wants you to trust her! 

“Don't worry y/n! I won't judge you! I got you!”

❄ A lot of hugs and affection on her part!

Leon Cromwell

🦁 Leon trusts you a lot. He often asks for your option before making an important decision.  

🦁 You are the person he goes to, and talk out his energy with whenever he is irritated or when he has been successful with something. Of course he will be all ears whenever you need to talk out as well.

🦁 You two will shit talk people a lot and sharing gossip. 

🦁 You are probably the one who has been referring to Leon from killing Ramiris.

“If you kill her, you will be in big trouble!” 

“I KNOW! But She’s so annoying!! it’s like she wants to die!”

🦁 Sometimes you will have a nice and quiet Tea-party, just you and him.

🦁 Leon is very protective of you and your safety and will never let harm come your way. He might not look like it sometimes but he values your friendship greatly!

Guy Crimson

🍷 Guy is a pretty calm and chill dude (I mean look where he lives? Sorry! xD). 

🍷 I can see him as the dude who would buy a lot of gifts for his friends. Even the weird stuff that nobody understands why he would waste his money on.

🍷 Sitting and talking for hours while drinking wine and homemade sweets.

🍷 You have lost count of how many times you have walked in on him making love to people. Sometimes he even starts a conversation with you in the middle of it, like it is nothing special that is going on. 

“Oh hi y/n, how are you doing? Do you want to join us?” 

“No Guy, I'm leaving.” 

🍷 He has probably been trying to make out with you when he has been really drunk. Like, are you sure nothing is going on with you two?

Thank you for reading! Have a good day!🥰 Reblogs are very appreciated <3

Post made by @master-muffinn

[zeestarfishalien]

What Lies Between Us

[DPxDC Week 2023 Day 4: Danielle “Dani” Phantom // Halfa Jason Todd AU // Heartbeat]

• Daddy Issues Ship (Danielle “Dani” Phantom/Jason Todd) Established Relationship

“Why do you like cuddling me so much?” The question flows from his lips before he can think better of it. Instead of pulling away or changing the subject, she answered his question.

“Your heart is steadier than mine. It reminds me to breathe, to be alive.”

Jason craned his neck to get a good look at Ellie’s face. She studiously doesn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on picking at a loose thread on his shirt.

He knew she had some sort of heart issue. Hard not to notice when they often cuddle close on the couch or fall asleep on one another. He hadn’t asked details and she hadn’t given them.

This…these words are striking all the wrong chords. Still he doesn’t push. She met Tim once and Jason didn’t see her for 3 weeks after that. She sent him pictures from Tibet, all scenery and places and people but never of her. Jason learned from that experience. He saw how worried she was about his reaction when she returned. She whispered to him in the wee hours of the morning before the sky lightened into dawn about a father-like figure who took and took and took, never gave. Someone who trapped her into a role and a place, then cast her aside as soon as the better option came around.

Jason makes sure to touch her lightly and fleetingly staying soft so she doesn’t feel trapped.

So yeah, Jason doesn’t ask what she means by those oddly ominous words.

Instead he gives.

“Sometimes I feel too heavy and hardened by some of my work, but you snuggle right in like I’m soft.”

She meets his eyes now, just briefly, but she does it.

“You are soft, Jay. You keep it wrapped up safe under that hard shell so that it doesn’t disappear. You keep living.” She pauses and Jason almost says something but stops and so she continues. “I don’t know how it works…living. I’ve been faking it in some vain attempt to pretend long enough that it becomes real, but I still don’t understand. I was made not born Jay.”

Jason takes a deep even breath.

“But you’re here now, with me. That’s living.”

“It’s so much easier, more simple, to be dead but I’m not that either. I’m stuck in this void and being with you makes me feel so much and see just how far from living I am. But your heartbeat? That makes me feel alive. It makes my heart match yours and I breathe in and feel the oxygen instead of just going through the motions.”

“That seems like a bit of a contradiction.”

“It is…but so am I.”

“I’m okay with that,” he says quietly, because he is okay with it and because she feels so safe and familiar, a feeling from a time he can’t quite remember (he thinks it might be when he was dead).

Her arms snake around him tightly and she buries her face in his chest.

He softly cards his fingers through her hair. It’s rarely loose like this. She usually keeps it in a ponytail or braid of some kind.

She hums and her body hums with her as she melts into him.

“Danny wants to meet you,” she murmurs almost sleepily when she finally unburies her face.

“Okay, I can adjust my schedule if we get a date and time.”

“Danny is my biological donor,” she adds on like she’s trying to wig him out.

“Not your father-like figure, right?” Jason clarifies.

“No.” She makes a face. “He’s the one who made me from Danny. Danny didn’t even know about me until I tried to kill him.”

Jason blinks. He was not expecting this, not today during sleepy cuddles on the couch but he’s not about to stop her or interrogate her about it.

“Danny didn’t have to care but he does. He was just a kid but he cared. He tried for me. He did what little he could within the restraints of his own circumstances. He gave me freedom.”

“Then I’d be honored to meet him.” And he means it.

“He’s like you,” she continues once again not looking him in the eyes. She’s found that loose thread again to pick at. Jason isn’t sure where she’s going with this but he has suspicions. “Where I’m neither dead nor alive, Danny and you are both dead and alive.”

“I don’t…what?”

“Death doesn’t let go even if she lets you come back. There’s a part of your soul that is forever changed by your time among the dead,” she explains. If it were anyone else Jason would already be on the defensive and anger would be bubbling to the surface. He’d have to fight to keep control of his emotions.

But it’s Ellie…

And that makes all the difference. Her earnest way of dropping bombshells has him reeling but not angry.

“I,” he pauses to search for the words, “it’s not that I didn’t know that I was different when I came back but this is a whole new level. You’re sure that I’m ‘dead and alive,’ right?”

“I’m sure Jay,” she pushes herself into a sitting position using his chest so she can look him in the eyes. “You’re a halfa. An earth born halfa but a halfa all the same.”

“How do you,” he gestures vaguely, “know?”

Ellie closes her eyes as she breathes in deep. When she opens them, her eyes glow a green not dissimilar to the Lazarus pits. She makes some sort of sound of water running over stones, but not with her mouth.

There’s an echoing pang in his chest right where those feelings of familiarity reside and his whole being vibrates with the sound of a plucked guitar string. The sound somehow escapes his body (maybe because it’s not a sound).

He lets out a soft, “oh.”

“You feel it too. The familiarity and comfort of death.”

He nods.

“I would know you no matter what form you take,” she whispers.

In lieu of an answer, Jason places his hands on hers. Slowly, ever so gently he tugs them up to his lips to place a soft kiss on them. He doesn’t know what to think or what to say. It’s kind of a lot that she suddenly dumped on him but he does know one thing for sure.

“I would like to stay with you no matter what form we take.”

It takes a moment for her to process the words but then the seriousness of the moment is broken and she’s rolling her eyes and shoving her hand in his face.

“You’re such a sap,” she complains but she softens. Jason didn’t realize she had been so tense until it’s gone. She lets him push her hand away from his face.

“Hey, you started it mx. ‘I would know you no matter what form you take.’ I just went with it.”

“Ugh…you’re right. I hate when you’re right.” With those words of admittance she huffs and drops her upper body once more to snuggle into him. He’s pretty sure she wiggles around extra just to annoy him. Today. Here and now, it could never be annoying.

Bc Ellie’s behavior might be confusing. She wanted to tell Jason about herself but was scared he would reject her so she decided to just info-dump everything on him and prepare for the worst. It’s not a great way to handle that situation but she isn’t perfect.

Also the time where she met Tim… so Tim just like started prying. The boi has no sense of boundaries and you cannot convince me that he does. She panicked and ran off bc instincts and only once she calmed down did she start taking pics and sending them to Jason to see how he was going to react.

It’s hard to get all that across when we are so limited by Jason’s pov. And that’s also the point. We are missing so much information and it’s kinda fun to write that. I’ve been needing to work on it more so here we are.

[workofheart]

levi ackerman relationship hcs

some modern headcanons, nsfw below the cut <3 it’s just levi brainrot at this point

definitely the type to follow (stalk) your spotify and check in to see what you’re listening to. if he has the time, he might even listen along and wonder what you’re doing. if it’s a particularly sad song or series of songs, he’ll know to send you a text to let you know he’s thinking of you

on that note, he also stalks your pinterest boards just to see what you’re into these days and (idk abt yall but i save pins of mens fashion) if he sees a cute outfit in your saves that fits his style, he might even try it out. reason being (though he’ll never admit to it) he loooves that kind of attention from you - when he looks particularly good and you can’t stop staring, it might just pull a smirk out of him

once you’re living together, he lowkey acts like a dad. might scold you for not closing doors, not turning off lights, all the like. he means well, honestly

however, doesn’t mind tidying up for you. folds your laundry, clears your plate, takes your jacket off your shoulders when you get home, just because it’s his way of showing he cares. definitely an acts of service kind of guy

really good at cooking! he likes spending days in the kitchen with you while he whips something up or tries something new and you just sit at the counter and talk to him. it’s a good way to catch up as your adult lives can sometimes get busy

if you fall asleep with earbuds still in, he’ll gently take them out for you before you go to bed <3 he’ll also plug your phone in for you if you forgot

occasionally reads aloud to you, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping. we all know he’s not much of a talker, but his voice is so relaxing and he doesn’t mind doing it if he knows it will help

the chillest, coolest boyfriend ever. he’s so mature, honest, and trusting, and you don’t have to worry about those high school dramatics when you’re dating him. when he chooses to date you, he’s serious about it - definitely not the type to just date for fun. he won’t hesitate to deny advances from other people, doesn’t care about what you wear, just fully devoted to you and wouldn’t even think about anyone else

i also think that with that dating in general, you would probably start out as acquaintances or maybe even friends. he needs to have a lot of trust in the person he chooses to date, so only after he’s known you a long time and you’ve made enough of an impact on his life for him to make it hard to let you go would he date you

speaking of, didn’t isayama say that levi would stutter around his crush? i can imagine him stumbling over his words, trying to cover it up with a cough, reaching to scratch his neck all sheepish, just getting all shy. even once you’re far past that stage of your relationship, sometimes you’re so upfront and bold, he can’t help himself :( you just make him so weak

braids your hair for you when you’re too tired to do it yourself - you’ll sit in front of him and his fingers are so gentle with your hair 🥺 he got the hang of it so quickly and has the dexterity to not tangle your hair and it always comes out so nice and clean, even if you’re just going to sleep in them

i peg him as a biiiig cuddler. not a lot of pda besides holding your hand, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting you hook your arm around his, etc., but in private he loves when he can just lay his head on your lap or chest bc then you can play with his hair, which relaxes him

he’s really intuitive and in tune with your emotions. if you’re feeling down, he’ll know, and he’ll also know if you need space or if you need comfort, both of which he is more than willing to oblige

he’s there to bring you cups of tea, maybe some cut up strawberries on the days you’re tired and want to sleep. will definitely tuck you in, and will also lay down with you for a bit if you ask

his go to way of getting you to talk is going on drives. 1) levi is a really good driver and 2) he’ll usually come and find you wherever you may be around the apartment, say something along the lines of, “i’m going on a drive, you wanna come?” or might just give you a look and jingle the keys around his fingers

it might take a little while of rolling through the backroads aimlessly for you to speak up, but when you do, he’s all ears. lets you talk through your thoughts, might prompt you further, offers advice if you ask for it. it’s also how you sort through relationship misunderstandings - they are rare, but all relationships have them, so it would be silly to present your relationship without them

i think that when levi is upset on the other hand, he’ll usually come to you for comfort. he isn’t necessarily looking for advice, but just to calm down and rest. some form of physical touch is good, like cuddling or napping, preferably where he can put his head on your chest so you can play with his hair

i think levi is the type of person to get a lot of intrusive thoughts or memories that he doesn’t really want to remember when they pop up, so having you as a distraction to hold him and let him know it’s alright is something he really appreciates

nsfw below the cut (18+)

unpopular opinion: levi is NOT the hard dom people tag him as. rather, i think of levi as a service top, so while he may be carrying out more of the work, you’re the one in control. getting you off gets him off 100%

considering he is usually very dominant outside the bedroom, he likes the opportunity to let you take control and direct him instead - it takes a weight off his shoulders

slow and smooth kisser. might put up a fake fight for dominance just to make it more fun, but eventually take the lead and kiss him dizzy

hearing your moans makes him unbelievably hard. the sounds you make go straight to his dick

and so: godly at giving head. he might edge you but it’s not to tease or as punishment, he just takes his time because he knows it feels better for you, and at the end of the day he wants you to feel as good as possible. your pleasure is his main priority.

knows how to use his fingers, knows how to use his tongue. knows what you like and picks up on it very quickly. i don’t think he’s that experienced but he’s got a good natural sense of what feels good - do not doubt him, he knows where the clit is 

he’s got a very wide range of capabilities for this, too. he can go slow and sensual on a calm sunday morning or absolutely dive in and ravage your pussy for more intense sessions - this is the one time he doesn’t mind making a mess 

making you cum is good for his self esteem/confidence lmfaooo he lives to see your flushed cheeks and heaving chest and be told he’s doing well. when you scratch his hair or cup his cheek as a quick thank you, his heart swells and his dick twitches

please kiss his neck, he will absolutely melt for you. especially the next day when he looks in the mirror and notices the little love bites you left him... he runs his fingers over them lightly and his eyelids get a little droopy as he remembers everything, will definitely seek you out for another round

tbh i don’t think he’s that kinky. he likes what he likes, i can’t imagine him comfortably degrading you or hitting you or anything like that. realistically, levi wouldn’t be having sex with someone he’s not in a committed relationship with. he wants it to be special and personal and therefore probably would not enjoy treating you poorly even if just for the sake of sex. if anything, he wants it the other way around bc he could easily be a bit of a masochist in bed

loves when you restrain him and ride the shit out of him, either by tying his hands to the bed or just pinning his arms down. likes when you “use” him to get off. put your hands around his neck and he’s putty in your hands

really loves when you tell him to cum - your voice is music to his hears and to hear it out loud and as a command has him doing exactly that. he’s not one to disobey orders lol. 

his brows furrow, his eyes squeeze shut, mouth falls open and lets out a low moan... jesus christ 

one more deep kiss, a quick clean up, and then he’s passing out with his head on your chest. after-sex sleep is some of the best rest he’s ever gotten

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry X

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, Lord Grumpy Pants Barnes.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You deal with the fall out of Barnes’ loss.

Note: It’s Friday, y’all. I can’t wait to nap tonight.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You did not see Lord Barnes before the banquet. Instead, you were escorted directly there by his hound, Rogers. You replaced your cap with a silk hood that matched your gown, gold and white ribbons braided around the trim. Rogers strode with his chin up and chest out, his blonde hair tidier than before and his blue eyes filled with their usual mischief.

The tables filled even as you entered but you did not see your master among the nobles along the dais. Lord Rogers stopped you as you peered around the hall and he glanced up at the king who spoke jovially to his queen and guffawed at another of his lords. The man beside you held his your as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“I hate to be the bearer of common sense, I never was adept at it, but you should stay away from your friends from earlier. If you care for yourself, or should I dare to suggest, that boy,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “oh, and this will be my last act of kindness. It makes me queasy.”

He released you and left you by the lower tables. You walked along a bench and sat with your head down. As much as you didn’t trust Rogers, he was right. You had to avoid May and Benjamin for their own sake as much as yours. It didn’t matter that they were friendly and warm, that they were the only light you’d known in the recent darkness, it only mattered that you did not draw them into the same snare which held you.

When the hall was full and raucous, you dared to look up at the high table. There was an odd stirring and you were stunned to see the last people you expected seated along the dais. The Parkers were not among their bearing at the lower tables but up at the king’s side, on his other shoulder, his queen, then his favoured lords, including Barnes who’s arrival had gone unnoticed.

Peter chuckled with King Sam as the older man clapped his shoulder and his uncle and aunt watched proudly. It only made sense, you figured, all alone amid the masses, that he should be given the place of honour for his victory. It made all the more sense that Lord Barnes glowered at the table in resent. Your heart skipped at his expression and you knew you would not go unscathed for his humiliation.

You ducked your head down again and picked at your plate of roasted potatoes and greasy carrots. You weren’t hungry but the wine went down easy and bubbled in your head. You were dizzier with each course and when at last the trestles were cleared and the benches taken away, you stood as the guests once more met on the boards while the band plucked up.

You wobbled to the wall and braced yourself against it as the figures blurred. You heard voices, familiar and strange, and suddenly there was someone before you. You blinked as you stood straight and gave an unsteady bow to the king. He tilted his head and smiled at you as he took your hand gently.

“You are in need of a partner,” he purred as he pulled you from the wall, “might I have the pleasure?”

“Your majesty,” you stared at the silver strands sewn into his overcoat, “it would be my pleasure, truly.”

“Hmm, much preferable to Barnes, of course,” he jibed, “it must be… peculiar. Once you would have poured the wine at these affairs and now… you have the delight of imbibing.” You lowered your lashes guiltily and he laughed, “I do not say that to shame or punish you, lady. Ah, yes, I know that title is not true but if Barnes would raise you to his bed, then I would oblige his indulgence. Besides, you are sweet, far too sweet for him.”

“I only do as he wishes,” you uttered, “nothing more or less.”

“And yet he seems entirely unhappy,” he remarked, “he does torture himself but I should hate to see him do it to another.”

“He did afford me this gown, a seat at this feast, and warm hearth,” you mustered your mask even though it drooped under the weight of the wine in your stomach, “I will not complain.”

“But you could, to me,” he said, “it would not bother me. You have been… maneuvered into a most unusual position. It intrigues me. You intrigue me… not in the same vein as Barnes, mind you, but you possess a grace unknown to many peasants. I admire it.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” you kept your head down as he led you around the floor, “my apologies for my clumsy feet.”

“I did not mean to upset you,” he said, “I hope to… give you strength.”

You looked up at him meekly and winced, “I am not strong. I only do as I am bid, as servants must.”

He thought and nodded to himself. For a moment, his cheer subsided and he sighed. “My wife does recall you from her younger days, vaguely. You must know her relation to your master. Well, she is a good woman, I love her deeply for it. She would allow you a place among her court… should you wish it. Should it keep you busy as Barnes is kept by his own business.”

“I… your majesty, why should she do that?”

“Not upon my suggestion if you suspect that, but she has ever held favour for strays,” he stopped as the tune slowed and flowed into the next, “and she worries for her brother. This is the first she’s seen him since he was… whole.”

You were quiet and smiled at him. You sniffed away the sudden wave of drowsiness as it settled on your shoulders.

“I should return you to him,” Sam said grimly, “I don’t think he should remain much longer at this celebration. He does not see second place as worth the frivolity.”

You let him guide you between the bodies as they parted around him and dancers stilled to bow at him. He said just as much as he left unspoken. The truth was there but none dared to declare it. Pity, that was what he offered; all he could offer.

“Bucky,” King Sam approached the lord who crept along the wall fertively, “you would need a partner before your head implodes from your pouting.”

“Pouting?” he spat back, “I do not… pout.”

The king laughed and held your hand out to the duke. Bucky eyed it and shook his head. Sam huffed and glanced around. “Your sister does await me. She cannot stand to dance with Rogers for very long and I promised her I would not be long. Do not punish the girl for your failings. Perhaps do not look at them as such, for many lost worse than you.”

The king raised your hand to his lips and left you with the courtesy. You stood by Barnes as he avoided looking at you. You didn’t know what to do, you were nervous and drunk. You looked at your skirts and swayed.

“Go, dance with him,” he hissed, “I don’t want you near.”

You raised your head and blanched. Lord Barnes picked at his cuff and grimaced. “I cannot dance as it is,” he lifted his fake arm and dropped it back against his side heavily, “I am… broken.”

“No, no, my lord, that is not--”

“You’ve seen it. You know.” He sneered, “besides, the boy did show how weak I am, truly.”

“My lord--”

“Oh, do not be such a simpering wench,” he pushed away from the wall and grabbed your arm, “can you not do anything for yourself?”

He dragged you through the crowd and you tripped over your slippers as you struggled to keep up. He marched around several couples and stopped to watch Peter as he danced with his aunt. His uncle stood along the wall with a wooden stein and watched. You staggered as Barnes released you sharply and watched the younger man until he noticed him.

“Oh, uh,” Peter stopped and both he and May bowed their heads to the duke, “Lord Barnes,” he held his head up high as his eyes sparkled at the veteran, “I hadn’t the chance to say how honoured I was to face you--”

“Yes, yes,” Barnes waved his words off, “you are a fine fighter. More skilled than most viscounts, they are usually more attune to their plows.”

Peter blinked as if he was trying to figure out the insult. His eyes wandered onto you and his brows drew together in confusion. You felt just as confounded as he let on.

“I was only aiding this… lady, she could not find you,” he lied smoothly, “I have a keen eye and I could not but help a damsel in need.”

“Oh, uh,” Peter smiled, “she is a friend. I was curious where you got to, lady.”

“It has been a long day,” you murmured, “my lord.”

“Well, you must celebrate, yes? She is a pretty girl, you are a young bachelor, it is only natural,” he commented, “the two of you… you should be dancing until the sun rises.”

“I should retire--”

“Nonsense, lady, you were so eager to find him,” Barnes intoned, “do go on. I for one am not much of a dancer anymore,” he gestured to his arm, “easier to face a sparring partner than a dancing partner, yes?”

Peter nodded and gulped. His forehead wrinkled as he considered the older man, “I thank you then, for reuniting us. Again, it was an honour, my lord.”

“An honour for me,” Barnes corrected, “to be bested by such a fine warrior.”

Barnes spun on his heel and left as swiftly as he’d brought you there. You watched after him and stared at the twirling sea of dancers.

“That was… odd,” Peter said quietly.

“I shall go bother your uncle,” May excused herself, “I was worried lady,” she took your hand for a moment as she drew your attention back, “I did not see you since the afternoon.”

“I am well, thank you, I was only swept up in the crowd,” you squeezed her hand and let her go. You turned to Peter as she went and he offered his arm with a crooked grin.

“So?” he asked anxiously.

You gulped and took his arm, unsure of what else to do. You were too afraid to find Barnes and stoke his anger further and just as afraid to disobey him. You knew well enough that even if he insisted upon it, that this dance was a trick on his part. It was as if he was fueling his rage so that he might unleash it upon you in full later.

“You fought well, my lord,” you began the steps, following his lead, “Congratulations.”

“I… am still in disbelief,” he chimed, “but you, I did not know you had such esteemed friends. My uncle said you were acquainted with Lord Rogers of Astrens.”

“We are not close.” 

“And Barnes? He’s not very sociable, notably so.”

“Oh? And what concerns you of my acquaintance with him?” you challenged.

“Nothing concerns me but… I don’t know, you say you are the daughter of a baron and yet you associate with dukes? That is a high climb--”

“A reach I did not make upon my own want,” you frowned, “you said we were friends, me and you. I care not for your title, only that you let me stomp your feet. I prefer that to their dukedoms.”

He smiled and cringed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound envious,” he laughed away his awkwardness, “I only-- I suppose I felt inferior to them.”

“You are better than them. Truly. You showed that today and I tell you, they are tainted by their gold and their lands. They cannot understand others for how much they think of themselves,” you stumbled as the wine stirred in your head.

Peter caught you and kept you from tumbling. You came to face him as his smile remained, “truly, you prefer me?”

“Truly,” you confessed, “I have never known any so--”

Peter was yanked away from you, a hand on his collar as you faltered with the force of it. You stepped back on your heel as he was turned to face Barnes who grasped him tightly by the front of his plain jacket. Peter was almost on his toes as he stared up in shock at the duke.

“Dance all you like, boy,” Barnes growled, “but she is mine…” he leaned in and you did not hear his whisper as Peter went pale and was shoved away.

Barnes released him and stormed out of the hall. Your eyes met Peter’s as he fixed the front of his jacket and he peeked over his shoulder at his aunt and uncle who hadn’t noticed the interruption. Your lip quivered and tears welled in your vision.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, “I didn’t--”

You spun and raced away, blindly brushing by the other guest until you burst out into the cold corridor. You hit the stone wall and gripped it as the tears trickled down your cheeks and you blotted them away with your sleeves. You sniffed and peered down the hallway at the shadow stalking away. 

That was only the beginning. Barnes would do all he could to make his will known and you always felt it completely.

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 10 (FINAL)

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 5.1k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: angst

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness! Thank you all for sticking with this story and these characters <3

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART TEN (FINAL) 

Jungkook wasn't looking for you when he finally found you that day on campus. He had just come from the student services building, leaving the meeting with his counselor feeling somewhat content. He had officially changed his major to digital communications and multimedia. He never would have done it if it weren’t for you making him feel like he could, of course.

It had a full week since break had ended, and he felt like he was in hell, knowing you were somewhere nearby on campus, but not knowing whether or not you’d want to see him yet. If ever.

He had just finished buying his lunch and was heading to find a table to sit outside when he finally saw you.

You looked just as lovely as he remembered you, your hair braided prettily with your torso bundled up tight in your oversized jacket. You always hated the cold weather, he remembered.

You weren’t by yourself, though, Yara and Taehyung sat with you, laughing amongst themselves. The three of you together looked so normal that before he could stop himself; he found himself walking over to your table, his heart in his throat.

“Hey, guys.”

All conversation came to a halt, the three students turning to face the cautious frat boy, looking familiar yet different all the same.

Jungkook’s words sung awkwardly in the air for a moment as Yara and Taehyung exchanged a quick look. You didn’t need to see Jungkook to know the words had come from him. You recognized the soft timbre of his voice immediately, your eyes locking down on the denim material of your jeans.

Fuck.

For a moment, Jungkook worried that his greeting might go by ignored altogether. The idea made him feel sick, that he had lost the three most important people to him within three weeks.

Taehyung broke away from Yara’s stare, thankfully flashing a genuine smile at him, “Sup, JK. Long time no see. How was your break?”

You let yourself steal a glance at Jungkook as Taehyung sat up and offered him a hug, which he returned gratefully.

You were surprised. His hair was no longer shaggy and long like you remembered it. Instead, it had been freshly cut, looking healthy and neatly styled for the first time since you met Jungkook.

But despite his clean look, there was something off about him. Something that made you feel guilty.

“It was fine.” Jungkook responded halfheartedly, eyes flickering over to you experimentally. You were the whole reason he had come over after all. His stomach sank as he found your eyes jerking away from him, directing your attention to anywhere but him.

“Take a seat, man.” Taehyung invited, ignored the deadly glare being drilled into the side of his face by your best friend.

Jungkook contemplated for a moment, but nodded, joining the table hesitantly.

“Hey, Yara.” He began politely, blatantly aware of the way the girl in question was looking at him as if he were the gum on her shoe that she had stepped in.

“Jockstrap.” The petite girl acknowledged him dryly.

You could feel his attention shift over to you.

God, please don’t.

“Y/N.” His voice was soft and apologetic, and you wanted to scream. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been toying with the idea of possibly meeting up with him once back in school, but as he sat across from you; looking at you as if you were the only person in this room, you felt yourself begin to panic.

Yara could feel the way you had tensed beside her, every alarm in her protective best friend system going off. She turned to you immediately.

“So, Y/N, you never finished your story. How was Erik?” She began casually as if the two of you had been discussing this topic before Jungkook arrived.

“Um...” You blinked, confused at the sudden change of conversation by your scheming best friend.

“Was it weird to catch up with him after all this time?” She continued, words loud and clear as her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink.

“Oh, um...” you caught on, mind racing as you caught Jungkook’s eyes widening at Yara’s words from the corner of your eye.

You knew exactly what your best friend was trying to do. She knew how Jungkook felt about your ex and was using that against him. Two weeks ago, you would’ve gladly rubbed Erik in Jungkook’s face, but after weeks of contemplation, you just felt crummy.

“Erik as in… you ex-fiancé Erik?” You heard Jungkook speak up finally, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his tone.

And then, you made the mistake of meeting his eyes. All the nerve you could have possibly called upon at that moment dissipating the moment you saw the disquiet confusion in his eyes.

“I, um…”

He didn’t have to say a word. You knew exactly how he felt, his face said it all.

“...have to go.” You finished weakly, chair dragging against the tile floor as you stood up abruptly.

Jungkook was the next up on his feet, “Y/N.”

Any effort he had planned on going after you was halted by an angry-looking Yara, who was throwing her bag over her shoulder as she hurried after you.

“Back off, shit head.” She scowled as she jogged off, leaving Jungkook feeling terrible, sinking back into his seat with a defeated breath.

Taehyung couldn’t help but stare at his best friend with pity. And as much as he wanted to offer some words of comfort, he had none, caught in between friends.

“Fries?” He finally spoke up, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.

Jungkook turned to face his brother slowly, eyes falling on the tray of the potato treat on the table before reaching for one, offering Taehyung a grateful smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

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Jungkook had no idea what he was doing. In fact, standing in front of the dorm door of two girls who he knew most definitely hated him had him feeling like a real tool.

Of course, Jungkook wanted everything to go back to the way it was, with you and him still spending every second together and with Yara as your abrasive, but supportive cheerleader. But he had given up on the idea after the first 15 unanswered phone calls. He had given up on you ever returning his feelings, and that wasn’t why he was here.

As he rapped his knuckles against the door, he knew that he had come to apologize. You were owed at least that much. If you listened, he would tell you how sorry he was and just how much he would take it all back if he could. How he didn’t want to keep bothering you, but couldn’t leave you alone until you got the apology you deserved.

All courage seeped out of him, however, the second he was met with a tiny stature and auburn hair, the scarier of the dorm’s residents answering the door. Meaning he had seconds to get his point across before Yara shut the door in his face.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now—”

To his surprise, however, the scary girl walked out into the hall to face him, shutting the dorm door behind her.

Jungkook took a step back as a precaution, knowing better than to piss off an already angry Yara.

“Oh no, I’ve got loads to say to you, actually." Yara said once she was sure the door was closed, her voice low and hard. "Like how you’re a jerk. A tool. A coward. Not to mention a total scumbag–”

Jungkook nodded, interrupting her without thinking, "I know, and I–"

"Oh, I'm not done!” She huffed, and the meathead fell quiet. “A fool. A buffoon. A pathetic excuse for a man. A lecherous ape. A salacious, prurient degenerate!"

Jungkook flinched at Yara’s words. And what colorful words they were too. She was making good use of that English degree, he supposed.

A few silent, tense moments ticked by, neither of them saying a word.

"Anything else?" Jungkook offered, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. Yara glared at him, arms crossed over her chest defensively.

"...Bedswerver."

He blinked, "Is that even a word?"

"I dunno, I read it in Shakespeare's Winter's Tale the other day. Just felt right, not gonna lie." She shrugged passively.

"Well... I guess I deserved that."

"You think?" She scoffed, clearly still heated. “You’ve been fooling around with Y/N all this time like it’s nothing, and at the first chance, you fuck your ex… only to sleep with Y/N again immediately after! Do you realize what a fucking douche move that is? To both Y/N and Kiri?”

Jungkook could feel his cheeks turning red, very much feeling like a child getting reprimanded by their parent. A child who was undoubtedly in the wrong.

“You're right. I fucked up. Majorly. And I know we can't ever go back to the way we were, that's not why I’m here. I hurt her. She deserves so much – far more than I could ever give her – but at least this... at least I can give her the apology she deserves."

Yara pressed her lips together, letting out a huff if agreement, “I'm surprised your itty bitty, underdeveloped, primitive ant-brain could figure that much out."

Jungkook frowned. She really was laying on the insults thick, wasn’t she?

“Ok, fine, sorry, I'm done now.” She sighed, arms coming back to her sides.

Of course, she was pissed. This entire situation was so entirely frustrating. From the moment those two had shook hands, it was evident that their relationship was heading down a path that neither of them was ready for.

Staring down the dark-haired boy, Yara wondered if this all could have been avoided if these two boneheads were just honest with one another from the beginning. But no, instead, feelings went left unsaid, and her best friend got dirty dicked in the process.

Relationships – even fake ones – were way too much drama for Yara.

Jungkook had remained quiet for now, allowing the door keeper to stare him down, trying to decipher his sincerity in his intentions. She let out a hum.

“You have 15 minutes.”

Jungkook felt his shoulders relax.

“She’s in the living room. I’ll be standing out here the entire time, and if I hear you as so much as raise your voice even a single decibel, I will rip off your dick.”

Of course Yara was going to let Jungkook in; she knew there was a lot still needed to be said between the two of them, and Y/N deserved a chance to speak her mind as well. Besides, Y/N had been rambling all week about reaching out to Jungkook herself. It was the closure both of them needed, and she wasn’t bitter enough to deny him that opportunity. She was just currently enjoying the way he squirmed under her stare.

“Thank you, Yara.”

“I'm serious. You will be penis-less. You'll go crying to the doctors to try and reattach it, but it'll be all in vain as I'll have ripped it to shreds by the time you reach them, way past the point of reconstruction. Do you understand?" She deadpanned.

Jungkook swallowed, head nodding rapidly, "I understand.”

Letting out a sigh, Yara stepped aside, clearing the path to the door.

“Don't fuck this up, jockstrap." She warned, an unexpected softness in her tone.

Holding her stare for a moment, he sent her one final grateful nod, reaching out and pushing the door open.

Entering the dorm, there was a weird sense of melancholy to the space. What once was a place where he spent most of his time, now just felt like an unfamiliar dorm– one in which he wasn’t particularly welcomed.

"Y/N?”

You weren’t propped up on the couch like he had expected you to be. In fact, as Jungkook scanned the space, he realized you weren’t in the common area at all.

Were you in your room? He wasn’t exactly sure how comfortable he felt walking into your room without your permission, given the current circumstances.

Whatever inner debate he was having, however, stopped off quickly as he took note of the light coming from within the shot door of the bathroom. And most notably, the shadow of two feet from underneath the door.

You had panicked.

Naturally, at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, you scurried over to press your ear to the door, hung on his and Yara’s every word. When you heard that he was coming in, you were sent scrambling for a place to hide. The bathroom was merely the best you could do with such a short time frame.

You cursed internally as his footsteps neared your way, stopping once he had reached the locked door. 

"I know you're in there."

You tutted, “So? Am I not allowed to use the bathroom in my own dorm?"

"You aren't using the bathroom." His voice called out from the other side of the door.

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not. You’re pee shy and there is no way you'd be using the restroom with me in the room."

You grimaced. In all the time you had spent with Jungkook, you had timed all your bathroom activities skillfully so that there was no chance he could hear you. This bathroom habit wasn’t only with him. Even Yara had to be tucked away in her room for you to pee comfortably. It was an odd, insignificant quirk of yours and frankly, a stupid thing for him to remember.

“Please… can we talk?”

“Just leave me alone, Jungkook.” You leaned your back into the door, voice void of emotion.

“I can't. Not with how we left things.” He placed a hand against the door, wishing it was your face he was holding instead. “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

Bitterly, you thought back when Jungkook had called Kiri his best friend the night the two of you first slept together. One way or another, it always seemed to come back to her. 

God, did it piss you off.

Angry now, you pushed yourself off the door, turning to face it as you imagining it was Jungkook's stupid face your eyes were burrowing into.

“You said Kiri came over asking for you back, yet you still came over and slept with me the next day. Even though the two of you had sex the night before. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”

“I’m—”

“Like garbage!" You emphasized, the white paint of the door somehow irritating you further. "I felt like I was something you threw away and picked back up whenever you felt like getting your dick wet.”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you tried your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“Not to mention to everyone else, it looks like you cheated on me. Which makes me look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

Jungkook said nothing in reply, which somehow made it easier to say all you should have said that day in your room.

“It just sucks to realize that someone you once cared about sees you as nothing more than a toy. It fucking sucks.”

Your words were small now, clearly hurt, and it made Jungkook’s heart sink.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re right, you’re totally right. It was fucked upand gross and disrespectful, and I'm so fucking sorry I did that to you. I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. Y/N, you’re not just a toy to me. You’re more. You are so much fucking more.”

“...Why did you sleep with her?” You muttered pathetically, selfishly wanting to know.

Jungkook pressed his lips together. He had been asking himself that very question every day since he did it.

"I just... I thought it was what I wanted. It was what I was supposed to want.” His eyebrows furrowed. "The entire time, I kept telling myself... This is it. I got what I wanted. Y/N was right. We're both gonna be happy now. But that’s not what happened. And that scared me."

God, how he wished he could see you right now.

"I didn't come over the next day to sleep with you. I just saw you... that was not... my head went blank and– ah, fuck, I practiced what I was gonna say on the way here. What am I even saying right now?" Jungkook groaned out to himself suddenly, hands entangling themselves in his hair.

How was he supposed to tell you that the second you opened that door that morning, all logical thinking stopped, and all he could think about was the fact how much he had missed you last night and how badly he needed to feel your lips again to forget hers. How he lost himself in the way you felt and tasted wasn't strong enough to stop himself.

In fact, he had nearly forgotten all about his terrible mistake when you suddenly brought up spending Christmas together, realization sinking over him. Of course, he wanted to spend it together, but there was no way he could lie to you for any longer. No way he could meet your parents after what he had done.

There was no sugarcoating it. He really was pathetic. And there is no easy way to tell you that.

"Why are you here? Honestly, Jungkook, what do you want from me?" Your words rang out suddenly, taking Jungkook by surprise.

What did he want from you?

What didn't he want from you? He wanted all of you. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing he thought about all winter break. How you could take his heart and do whatever you deemed fit with it. That you had him wrapped around your finger, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

But none of that mattered now.

"I know we can never go back to how we were before. What we had is ruined and that's because of me. I just wanted to apologize for ever making you feel like all I ever wanted was sex from you. I'm so fucking sorry."

You had your hands buried in your palms, wishing this wasn’t all so hard. That you had just broken the contract off the second you realized you had real feelings for him.

"The night at the roller rink, you told me that if I love something and it inspires me then I should go after it, right?”

Lifting your head from your hands, you frowned at Jungkook’s words.

Your roller skating date? God, that felt like ages ago...

“Yeah. So?”

“S-So, um–" Jungkook stuttered, ears turning red as he contemplated his next words, "so, for me... you're that something. And I couldn't just let you go with at least letting you know how sorry I was. Fuck, that was so lame, sorry, I probably sound like such a wastoid right now."

You wanted to cry, not because you weren’t happy but because you were so tired of hating Jungkook and pretending like you didn't just want to run back to him. You had spent the last three weeks rejecting his calls yet wondering all the same what he was doing. Your heart and mind were in constant paradox, torn between wanting him back and wanting him to know just how much he had hurt you.

Your mind ultimately won the battle, of course, but as Jungkook stood just a few inches of drywood apart pouring his heart out, it was hard to say which major organ was responsible for your next words.

The creak of the door being pushed open sent Jungkook's eyes wide, revealing your hesitant form. You had your arms crossed over your chest as if to guard the contents inside of it.

You looked like an angel underneath the bathroom's blue fluorescent lights, beautiful and lovely, a stark contrast from your next crushing sentence.

“I slept with Erik.”

You weren’t expecting the news to go over well with him, but what you weren’t expecting was the way Jungkook’s face fell entirely slack as if he had just witnessed his world fall in front of him.

You weren’t exactly proud of what you had done. You and Erik had gone out for dinner, admittedly enjoying each other’s company and catching up on all the years you spent apart. You didn’t have plans on sleeping with Erik when you first called him up. Honestly, it was Jungkook’s name being continuously brought up during the car ride home that spurred on the impulsive decision to kiss Erik, just to get him to shut up really. But more than that, you knew precisely where kissing him would lead.

As always, Erik was predictable, and he fed into your request without question, and you felt terrible about it. It was a mistake at worst and a distraction at best.

Hardly even a distraction, as Jungkook was inescapable. He was in the back of your mind the entire time, looking at you with sad doe eyes that you were trying your hardest to ignore.

Even as you slipped back on your shirt when the deed was done, code brown starting to set in as the reality of what you had done hit you, you couldn’t escape him, as Erik wished you well and that he hoped things between the frat boy and you worked out.

Needless to say, you spent the rest of you break absolutely miserable — hating yourself using Erik in the same way Jungkook had used you.

The sound of Jungkook swallowing dryly brought you back from your thoughts. “Did you… I mean, are you two back together?”

He placed a hand into the front of his jean’s pocket as you contemplated your next words.

He continued on, “If… if he makes you happy..."

A gross feeling washed over you, watching as the boy you loved tried to hide the way his breath was trembling. You bit down on your bottom lip.

“When Erik and I…” you paused as you watched Jungkook’s expression fall further, “I was expecting it to be all intense and emotional. Because I once loved him.”

You frowned, the memory still somewhat fresh, “But I wasn’t. It felt foreign and detached and—”

“Wrong.” Jungkook finished for you, a melancholic shine in his eyes. You nodded.

“I didn’t understand at first. I have been having casual sex with you for all this time, but it felt nothing like that.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” He breathed.

You turned away from him a moment, trying to grab hold of your wit before you could once again flee from the scene, leaving your meathead ex fake boyfriend in your dust.

"I'm not saying what you did was justifiable, because it's not, but... I guess I'm not exactly in any position to not forgive you. Because I used Erik to forget about you. And it felt horrible."

"What are you saying?" Jungkook didn’t know what to make of what your cautious words.

Turning back towards him, you held his stare with certainty.

"I'm saying that... I forgive you."

A sharp breath came tumbling out of the boy’s mouth, eyes growing wide as he tried to make sense of how he had ever earned your forgiveness after what he had done to you.

He took a step towards you instinctively, only to be stopped as you held out a hand to halt him.

“I need you to understand something.” Your arms tightened around yourself, growing shaky. “I don’t need you. I had a life before you, and I know I'll have one after you.”

Jungkook nodded at you, despite how much it hurt him. He understood. You had given him forgiveness; he wasn’t owed anything more.

All you had to do was say the word, and he’d be out of your hair forever. He’d do anything you’d ask him to, despite the way every part of him was screaming for you.

“I don’t need you… but I don’t think I want a life without you.” You finished shyly.

Your eyes were locked with his when suddenly a small noise escaped him, eyes pulling away from yours as his head moved to attempt to hide the way his eyes had grown wet.

At the sight of a tear rolling down the side of his face, you were by his side, hands gripping his jacket worriedly.

"Wha– Why are you crying?!" You panicked, never having dealt with a crying meathead before. This was uncharted territory.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I just..." your heart lurched at his broken tone, watching as he wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hands. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again after this. I missed you so much. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you."

“I missed you, too.” You cooed softly, tugging at his jacket so that he’d face you again.

And suddenly, the sound of paper hitting the floor rang out, the two of you pulling back to look at what had come tumbling out of Jungkook’s pocket.

“What’s that?” You asked innocently, not seeing the way his cheeks had gone pink.

“N-Nothing.” He was quick to reach for it, cursing lowly as you beat him to it, taking the crumpled up paper in your hands.

He watched miserably as you pried it back open, scanning through the paper in confusion.

“Jungkook… What is this?” You muttered.

Jungkook’s face was positively burning, time moving slowly as he realized what was about to happen.

“I, um, wrote it one night when I couldn’t sleep... I forgot I put it in this jacket. I meant to throw it away.”

Your face held an expression of uncertainty, as if unsure how to proceed. It was undoubtedly addressed to you, an affectionate “Nerd” up on the top.

So you opened the paper further, flatting it out with your hands as you began to read.

“Do you mean what you wrote?” You finally spoke, voice wavering.

Jungkook wished he could disappear into the floor right now. Never in this wildest dreams did he imagine a scenario where you would find out about his feelings for you through a sappy love note he had written when he was moping around late one night.

“Yeah, I do.” He told you honestly, your heart skipping several beats.

In that case, it was time you were honest as well.

“You're right when you say things can't go back to the way things were.” You began, cheeks warm. “Not because you ruined it but because I'm not putting myself through that again. I'm sick of half-assing shit and tired of lying to you and to myself. I know what I want, and it's you… not because I have something to prove, not because I want to make Kiri jealous but because of the sole reason that you make me happy." Your strong facade began to crumble as insecurity began to suddenly sink in. “But if you don’t want that, if you don’t want something real... then nevermind, I guess.”

And all at once, Jungkook realized that all this time it hadn’t been just him.

Two arms made their way around you, and suddenly, you were engulfed in warmth, Jungkook’s close proximity pulling a wave of emotions out of you.

“I love you, nerd. I don't why it took me so long to realize that, but I know without a doubt that you are it for me. Nothing could change the way I feel about you.”

And finally, you let out a cry, breaking down all the walls you had built up to keep Jungkook from perceiving you as weak. Because maybe you were. Maybe you were weak for this boy, but as you buried your wet face into his chest, you no longer cared, the weight of everything you had felt these past three weeks crushing down on you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Jungkook cooed softly, chin coming up to rest upon your head.

"I love you, too." Was your weepy reply.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pressed a kiss into your head, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever.

"Are you two dorks done crying?" Yara’s voice rang out suddenly, causing both of you to jump apart.

"Yara, you creep! Privacy, dude! Ever try knocking?" You sniffed, wiping at your face hurriedly.

How long had she been standing there?

"What? Like you were peeing with Jungkook in the bathroom? Please." She waved you off, walking back into the living room to give you two some privacy. She did say Jungkook had 15 minutes before she’d have to come back in after all. "Anyway, Tae will be over in 10 minutes for the Saved By The Bell marathon that’s on so you guys are more than welcomed to join." She called out from her newly seated position on the couch.

"Sure, whatever..." You huffed back, flashing Jungkook an exasperated look. So much for that special moment.

Jungkook didn’t seem too bothered though, the fullest, most boyish grin on his lips, taking in the puffy-eyed girl in front of him that he could now with full confidence call his.

And that girl couldn’t help but smile back at him just as stupidly because for once, there was nothing fake about your boyfriend.

"How is it that a piece of paper is the start of both our real and fake relationship?" He mused suddenly, hands reaching to take yours. You hummed, taking in the way your fingers intertwined.

“Funnily enough, we broke, like, every rule of our contract." You quirked up a brow.

“You know…” Jungkook began, flashing you a mischievous look, “it states very clearly on the bottom that the contract will be terminated upon completion. We can’t terminate the contract if we never completed it.”

“What are you saying? We keep the contract going?” You laughed.

“I’m saying that you are contractually stuck with me.”

“That contract is in desperate need of some amendments.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah? And what did you have in mind?” His hands found your waist, pulling you into him.

“Rule number one has gotta go. The one kiss policy just won’t slide with me.”

Jungkook let out a laugh, his palm finding your cheek, eyes locked on your lips. You were preening for his kiss, mouth parting slightly as you anticipated it.

“Partners?”

The question took you by surprise, eyes widening at your not so pretend lover.

Idiot.

“Partners.” You smiled softly, eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he kissed you for what must have been the millionth time, but still somehow felt like the first.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

And just like that, bitchin’ is over :’( thank u all for ur support, seriously I was not expecting this kind of response (consistent too!) to this story and I'm so beyond grateful and I hope you all know I never take your engagement for granted. thank you for letting me share my stories <3

[valdomarx]

Lost in Translation

McShep + fake relationship, for @lamberts <3

John glances around warily. The people of this planet seem friendly enough, but with Teyla and Ronon off visiting another village, he feels acutely vulnerable.

“Will others be joining you?” The village elder gives him a inquiring look.

“Just McKay. He’s my scientist.”

The elder frowns. “What is scientist? We do not know this word.”

“Oh.” He looks around the mud hut and contemplates how to explain it. They clearly don’t have a frame of reference for astrophysics or computer programming here. “He’s part of my team. He travels with us and, you know, gets us out of difficult situations. Opens doors. Fixes things when they break. That sort of thing.”

“Ahh.” The elder smiles beatifically. “This we know. He is your chap’tah.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“It is good for one who travels to have a chap’tah.”

John grins. “He has his uses.”

Some of the villagers raise their eyebrows at that, but it’s soon forgotten as they move onto the trade negotiations.

-

“I brought you food.” One of the village women smiles at him shyly as she hands over some kind of bread and fruit. “Should I bring more for you to give to your chap’tah as well?”

“Thank you.” John waves her off. “But don’t worry about McKay. I’m sure he’ll track down the food himself soon enough.”

The woman draws back in horror. “You do not feed him?”

“What? No?” John boggles. “I mean. He’s allowed to eat. Does so a whole lot, actually. But I don’t typically oversee that personally.”

“In our culture, we honor our chap’tahs by providing them with food. Is it not so where you are from?”

“It’s not.” John thinks about the last time the Daedalus came by to restock Atlantis and the frankly incredible volume of snacks that were distributed among the scientists. “Not officially, anyway.”

“Perhaps you should try it.”

He thinks about the way Rodney’s face lights up when he brings donuts to the lab. “Perhaps I should.”

-

“We have prepared a hut for you and your chap’tah.”

“Great.” John isn’t crazy about staying the night here, but the gate is a long hike away and they clearly aren’t in any immediate danger.

The villager, a young man with broad shoulders, leads him to a hut on the edge of the central meeting place. “We hope you will be comfortable.”

John sticks his head inside. It is exceedingly small, barely enough space for one person. It was going to be cramped as hell with both him and Rodney in there.

But they are guests, and he doesn’t want to be rude. “Lovely. Thank you.”

The young man gives him a knowing wink. “We know that a man likes to keep his chap’tah close.”

And that was… weird. But okay, having a scientist close at hand was pretty useful.

-

Rodney storms up to him and John laughs so hard he nearly chokes. He’s wearing some kind of elaborately tied white tunic and has flowers woven into his hair. His face has turned a furious puce color and he is fuming.

“Fun day?” John asks when he’s regained enough breath to speak.

“They insisted on dressing me like this and it’s all your fault.” He waves a finger in John’s face.

“How’s that?”

“They said I had to be presented handsomely. As if my usual attire is anything but! And the more I argued, the more they insisted I had to because of you. ‘When one is chap’tah, one must be at one’s most agreeable.’” Rodney does a mean impression of one of the village elders. “What the hell did you tell them?”

“Honestly, nothing! Just that you were my team scientist. Maybe they really love celebrating science here?”

“Oh, right, because this is a bastion of forward-looking experimental thinking!” Rodney gestures wildly around the village. “I feel so celebrated.”

John suppresses a smile. “I think you look very nice. White suits you.”

He keeps a straight face for all of two seconds before Rodney tries to throttle him.

-

That night, there’s a celebration in honor of their new trade alliance. The villagers build an enormous bonfire and smoke meats and vegetables over it like the galaxy’s biggest barbecue. After the food, they hand around gourds full of sweet mead which leaves sugar on John’s lips and tingling in his throat. And then the dancing begins.

Dancing has a long tradition in this culture, he learns: dances in the hope of a good harvest, dances to give thanks, dances to celebrate births and to commemorate deaths. Every family seems to own a drum or pipe of some kind, and they bring them out to play relentless, rhythmic music to which they twirl around the fire.

The mead must have been stronger than he thought, because when one of the villagers invites him to dance he takes her up on the offer, letting her show him the steps. He catches sight of Rodney watching him from the other side of the fire with a frown, and he’s compelled to pull him to his feet and to wipe that frown away.

Neither of them have the elegance and agility of the others, but that doesn’t seem to matter. John does his best to show him the footwork, but they mostly end up bumping into each other and laughing. At one point they collide so hard that Rodney nearly goes sprawling, and John catches him around the waist to hold him upright.

The firelight paints them both in hues of orange, and a red flush is spreading across the tops of his cheeks, the way it always does after more than one drink. John longs to trace it with his fingertips.

If I kissed him now, he catches himself thinking, he'd taste of honey and wood smoke.

They make it until dawn before staggering back to their hut. The villagers are still dancing, and they fall asleep to the sound of drumming.

-

John wakes up far too hot, with something fluffy tickling his nose and something soft and appealing pressed up against him.

He blinks, stretches, and realizes the tickling thing is Rodney's hair, which his face is buried in, and the heavy weight is Rodney's ass, which he's grinding up against.

Erm.

“Jesus, Sheppard, you could at least buy me dinner first.”

John stills, embarrassed. Though Rodney sounds bleary but not exactly adverse to the idea.

Interesting.

"How about once we get back?"

"Huh?" Rodney is not at his sharpest first thing in the morning.

"Dinner. You. Me. Atlantis."

"Oh." Rodney snuggles back into him. "Yeah, alright."

Nice. "Okay. Good "

There's a quiet moment, and John enjoys the warmth of his arms around Rodney.

Rodney never could appreciate quiet though. "Why did you stop?" He sounds almost petulant. It's kind of cute. "With the -" he gestures vaguely, "- you know."

"Technically I didn't buy you dinner yet."

"Ehh, I'm pretty easy. I'll put out for a potential dinner."

Really nice.

He smiles into Rodney's hair. "If you insist."

-

It’s several hours later that Teyla arrives. John is sat on a muddy bank playing a game involving balancing piles of sticks with some of the local kids, and Rodney has been hustled off to have more flowers braided into his hair. When the village women tugged him out of the hut, giggling and waving flowers, he’d thrown his hands up and barely even complained, so he must be in a truly good mood.

“John,” Teyla gives him a polite nod as she approaches, flanked by two of the villagers. “Caton and Sar’ai tell me that negotiations went well.”

He stretches lazily. “They did. I think we can get enough food to keep Atlantis stocked for several months.”

“Good. Well done.” She comes and sits by him on the bank. “They also told me that you were here with your husband.”

He blinks at her.

She’s hiding a smile. “Is there something you would like to tell me?”

“Erm.” John thinks back over the last day. The chap’tah. The food. The flowers. The shared hut.

Ahh.

“There seems to have been a misunderstanding about me and McKay. Though, on reflection, I can perhaps see how they might have got the wrong impression.”

Teyla nods sagely. “It would be best if you, how shall we say, play along for the rest of the visit? No need to risk a diplomatic incident.”

Very well. If he must, he must.

When Rodney comes back, this time dressed in a fetching blue sheet with violet flowers tucked behind his ears, John pulls him close and kisses him. Rodney makes a happy humming noise and none of the villagers seem perturbed, so he’s going to count that as a win.

As they collect their gear and begin the walk back to the gate, John takes Rodney’s hand in his own.

Teyla inclines her head knowingly. “I am glad your mission was successful,” she says.

"Just doing my part,” he replies, giving Rodney’s hand a little squeeze, “in the spirit of intergalactic understanding."

[olivyh]

TWST FAMILY HCS PT 3) Scarabia and Pomefiore

Scarabia:

Jamil:

-Mama Viper: She’s on the quieter side, similar to Jamil. She’s a very hardworking woman and incredibly loyal to whoever she gets close to, which extends to Kalim as well. Seeing the two boys grow up together, and considering how I think Kalim didn’t get the most attention growing up (with thirty siblings and counting, plus having his father working all the time) she felt sorry for him and took him in as her own as well. She sometimes feels Jamil’s pain at being stuck in the life of servitude, but is incredibly proud of him for sticking up for himself and doing what she never got to do, even if she scolded him after word got to the household. She can’t put much focus on either of her children, which deeply saddens her, but she looks forward to watching them grow up to be strong, intelligent, and independent. I think she’s a little shorter than Jamil, with the same long black hair that she braids down her back. She has dark brown eyes that almost look black.

-Papa Viper: He’s on the more reserved side as well, but not by choice. He’s very talkative when talking about his experiences, often going into rants where he has to remind himself to not overstep his boundaries. I think Papa Viper and Papa Al-Asim have a similar relationship to Kalim and Jamil pre-overblot, where it’s very one sided and there’s a lot of bitterness. Despite this, Papa Viper remains loyal to the Al-Asim family. Deep down he wishes he could spend more tike with his children and deeply regrets telling them to lessen themselves to make the Al-Asims higher than them yet again. And, like Mama Viper, he is incredibly proud of his son for being so intelligent and independent, sticking up for himself and trying to break the chains that kept their family held down foe generations. I think he stands at the same height as Jamil, with shorter cropped hair with grey streaks going across the sides.

-Little sister Viper: A spitfire who’s not afraid to speak her mind, often getting scolded by other servants and the rest of her family. Very close with Kalim’s younger sister who she has to watch over- they have movie nights and makeover nights as often as possible. She often scolds her older brother, telling him little things he needs to change (“haven’t you been wearing your hair like that since forever?”), which often gets them in little passive-aggressive arguments. She and Kalim’s younger sister aspire to be as magicam-popular as the Vil Schoenheit- they even have their friend from the land of Pyroxene to help them boost their account and make their pictures look better (Yes, they call and chat with Cater’s second oldest sister all the time)! I think she has long hair tied in a way similar to their mother’s, with Jamil’s dark grey eyes. I think she stands shorter than the rest of the family, at around 5’2.

Kalim:

-Papa Al-Asim: A cheery, joyful man much like his oldest son! He’s a little dense sometimes, but is actually a very smart man (it’s not easy to own a company after all!). He tries his best to bond with all of his children and wives, but often struggles to juggle everything at once (which leads to him being very teary eyed at every little interaction with any one of his children). Will also spoil his children and wives as often as he can! He likes to see all their different interests, and is overjoyed when he can watch some of them perform during dinners or hang up their paintings or drawings or, if he’s lucky and has the time, he can attend one of their sport games! I think he’d be a little taller than Kalim, with white hair similar to his, with dark brown eyes.

-Mama Al-Asim: A princess at heart. A very quiet and patient woman, who adores her children with every ounce of her being. I think Papa Al-Asim might have four-five wives? Bc these poor woman cannot be having six plus children in the span of seventeen years. I think she gets along well with the others, but would rather it be her and her children getting closer. I think she’s enamored with everything each one of them does, whether it be something as small as a craft they made or a little magic trick they learned, and will keep pictures of every little thing they do. She tries to include every one of them when she does something, whether it be reading aloud to them and the other children, or teaching them how to knit and sew, or helping them learn new dances and wearing new things. She teaches them to be kind to others, often retelling the story about the Thief and the Princess to point out how kind each of the protagonists were. She teaches them as much as possible, from how to help their Papa to how to fix your mistakes and catch them before they happen. She will listen to whatever problems they have, and will offer her shoulder to cry on for each and every one of them. She is also very affectionate to them, still offering cuddles and forehead kisses whenever they look upset (no matter how old they may get). I think she’d have very long brown hair that she tries to add as many intricate little designs to as possible, with Kalim’s bright red eyes. I think she’d be around 5’1-5’2?

-I AM NOT DOING ALL THIRTY YOUNGER SIBLINGS SO HERES A FEW HONORABLE MENTIONS: Twins who get into as much trouble as they possibly can, driving the servants insane. One of them often sneaks out of the palace and comes back after everyone spent hours searching for them with souvenirs. Nobody knows where they went or how they got there, and they won’t tell anyone. His little sisters often dressing up as princesses and performing whole musical numbers during dinner, with the dances down and everything. Hide and seek. With all thirty plus of his little siblings. It’s insanity for anyone wandering the palace. Their drawings are all over the palace. Animals. So. Many. Animals. They have anything from birds, to reptiles, to insects, heck, one of Kalim’s little sisters even has a domesticated tiger! All of them plan as many movie nights and pillow fort building days as often as they can- seeing each other not only as siblings but as close friends! Of course, when their oldest brother comes home from school, they all sit around his room as he tells them stories about things he’d seen and learned, as animated as possible. Of course, he tells them classic fairytales as well, acting them out and jumping around his room, trying to get as many reactions to them as possible. Of course, many of the quieter ones prefer to stick away from the action and near Jamil, who will quietly talk with them in the corner of the room.

Pomefiore:

Vil:

-Papa Schoapjfaojfpak: As already stated, a popular actor and stage director. With this comes the same publicity that Vil has to deal with, making him look nearly flawless and act as such when out in public. He keeps his son’s attitude when it comes to fans, keeping most interactions short and simple, putting on a show offstage nearly as much as he does onstage. Behind closed doors, however, he’s a very kind yet strict father, making sure that Vil takes proper care of himself and is happy at the same time. He struggled with the aspect of having to leave Vil alone for much of the time when he was a child since he had to work often. When these times were especially bad, he’d often bring Vil into the sets to help him get ready for filming or to watch his Papa from a little seat next to the directors. He would always chuckle and pat Vil’s hair whenever he told him something he could’ve done better after the filming process, glad that his son has an eye for these sorts of things. He’d even let him experiment with the expensive costumes and makeup, helping him fix his own small mistakes. He tries to make it to every show and movie that Vil does, often going undercover to ensure that fans don’t take his attention off his son. He has a box full of their own home movies that the two of them made, including action, comedy, even a few thrillers thrown in (of course, Vil was the strong hero who defeated the bad guy)(The bad guy being his poor father with fake blood smeared on his face). He watches them sometimes when he misses his son (and he cries about how far he’s come, not that he’d ever tell Vil). I think he’d be the same height as Vil, and a little muscular due to having to keep up appearances. He has Vil’s hair and eye color.

Rook:

-Mama Hunt: Okay back to my headcannon page about species, I saw something that said that Rook was half beastman. So, I like to think that Rook’s mother is the beastwoman in the relationship. She’s a strong, loving caracal beastwoman. She’s kind and often spoils her son as much as possible, coddling him whenever he’s around, no matter the age. He get’s his poetic nature from her, an artist, poet, author, whatever she could get her hands on! Despite this, she’s still a woman from the Savanah, so she gets very protective over her husband and son, and is a lot stronger than she looks! She would be the kind of woman who’d tell you the most vague, unsettling threats with a smile on her face, and she’s had some pretty close scrapes with people who thought that they could try to hurt her son because he was half human (and also, due to Rook’s nature, likely trespassing on their property). She tries to show her son the beauty in the world, complimenting him on every little thing he did and poetically pointing out everything beautiful around her during their walks (even if it wasn’t)(Mrs.Hunt please don’t show your son that roadkill)(please don’t compliment the roadkill)(let it rest in peace im begging you). She and her husband are incredibly proud of everything Rook does. I think she has short blonde hair that goes black at the ends, yellow eyes, and is only an inch shorter than Rook.

-Papa Hunt: Where do you think Rook got his hunting instinct from? Not from his beastwoman mother, surprisingly. The infamous Mr.Hunt was but a hunter who had wandered too far away from where his friends had decided to go camping in the Savana. He, like his son, was enamored with any non-human species, his curiosity leading him to a beastwoman quietly painting not too far from her home. With her enhanced hearing, she quickly whipped around and glared at him, shocking the man to the point of falling down. And from that point forward, he was in love. He’s incredibly supportive of his wife’s artistry, complimenting her at every moment about how perfect she did and how amazing she is as what she does. He’s a romantic, like his son, so you can expect many, many mushy moments between the two of them (que baby Rook making a face at the display). He wanted to teach his son as much as possible about the world, to make him as curious as possible. Of course, he wanted to bond with his son for as long as possible. How would they do that? Father-son camping trips, in which Papa Hunt would teach the boy how to shoot a bow (it took him a minute to realize that his son’s laser-point accuracy could be because his beastman instincts tell him how to get the kill as fast as possible, and he was the proudest Papa in the Savana when he went to tell his wife). He also often took him to larger towns, letting his boy get acquainted with his beastman culture so he didn’t feel too left out around others. He is the same height as Rook, but with shoulder-length black hair and bright green eyes.

Epel:

-Great-Meemaw Felmier: A very old and wise woman, shockingly stubborn and independent for her old age. She adores her great grandson and was the one who taught him how to carve apples in the first places. She’d tell him stories about when her father first bought the farm they lived on, and what things were like then, how they changed. Of course, she gets tired very quickly so these stories are often left with open endings, much to Epel’s dismay. She always knows what advice to give for any situation, and won’t be afraid to tell you the truth. She’s likely around her late nineties, and often carries around a walker that she smacks people’s ankles with. I think she’d have very, very long hair (“To preserve my youth”, she says) that she lets hang as much as possible.

-Meemaw & Peepaw Felmier: Two very sweet people. Both hailing from families of farmers who had lived in and around the village of harvest their whole lives, they grew up around each other and are practically inseparable. They care very much for their children and grandchildren, and often act as their grandchildren’s partners in crime whenever they get into trouble, patching them up when they get hurt and helping to clean the mess they might have made in the kitchen. would have shoulder-length light purple hair (almost white) that she ties back. They look like Mr. and Mrs. Claus that you see on those old Christmas animations that you can never remember the name of but see every year.

-Uncle & Aunt Felmier: A stern, but kind couple. Uncle Felmier is a gruff man, often being too blunt and too focused on work to take a break every now and again, and Aunt Felmier is strict with her child’s rules and schedule. Luckily, they have Epel’s parents to balance them out when they get too far. Uncle Felmier enjoys working out in the farm with his younger brother, and Aunt Felmier is Mrs.Felmier’s best friend, which made both the men very happy when Papa Felmier was getting ready to marry Mama Felmier. Whether it be cooking, baking, attending festivals in town, or even sitting near the fire and drinking tea/coffee, the four of them greatly enjoys each other’s company. Uncle Felmier is a taller man with light purple hair, with grey streaks going up the front, he’s more built due to working on the farm. Auntie Felmier is a stout woman, with light brown hair that’s often tied up in a low ponytail.

-Papa Felmier: A very kind and hardworking man, who lives for his family. He gets up at the earliest hours in the morning and goes to bed at the latest at night to keep the farm going and to help out their elderly neighbors. He’s a little strict with Epel, but that changed as Epel grew up and became less rowdy (not by a lot). He tries his best to understand his son and let him grow as his own person, hearing him out when he gets upset about others calling him feminine. He even tries to put a stop to his brother making comments about the boy, at least around him. He is a little scrawnier than his brother, but still fairly muscular due to constantly lifting things and operating machinery to keep things running. He has Epel’s purple hair and light green eyes.

-Mama Felmier: Another one where, if you hadn’t known she was a farmer, you’d think she was a lost princess. She’s a kind, generous, quiet woman who does her best to keep her chaotic household from falling apart. Similar to the Tweel’s father, she tries to protect Epel as much as possible, and him going so far away for school made her panic internally, as proud as she was of him. She does her best to calm her son down when he gets rowdy or frustrated at something, and often approaches him with hot cocoa or an apple tart to make him feel a little better. She solves everything with food, which mostly incorporates apples, and believes that by baking for him and by extension, his friends at school, she makes their days a little better, no matter how horrible they may be. She is welcoming to any of the boys from school who may have a hard time at home or who need a place to stay, and was happy to the point of tears when he told her that he made friends at school. Is another one who will proudly display pictures of their child, often having long conversations with their neighbors about how he is, what he’s doing in school, etc etc. She is incredibly beautiful (where else would he get that face?) and has long ginger hair with Epel’s blue eyes.

-Little cousin Felmier: Epel’s baby cousin is only around six or seven, and follows his older cousin as much as he can. He defends Epel as much as possible whenever people call him delicate and girly, and will go on long rants about all the cool things he’d seen him do over the years (“He jumped out o’ th’ tree! Without thinkin’!” “We were sleepin’ outside n’ he heard an animal outside o’ our tent n’ he scared it off!”). Is quick to help around the house, despite being stubborn and upset about not being strong enough to help his father and uncle work outside yet. He’s always quick to ask Epel about school, and has begged him on multiple occasions to let him go with him (“We already sleep in the same room! What’s the difference if it’s here or at your dorm?”). I think he’d have Epel’s hair color but with light green eyes.

Im just imagining Epel’s giant family living in the same farmhouse and it being this small, warm, friendly place out in the country with plaid red curtains and little apple accessories everywhere and quilts and a big fireplace they all talk by 🥺🥺

[teenyweenynightghost]

The Fluffiest Alliance Chapter 1

A/n: So, I finally managed to write the first chapter. A round of applause please. I would like to say that I may have possibly ignored certain parts of the form i posted, but that doesn't matter. Enjoy <3

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Nothing explicit yet but it's fem OCs

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @cheese-toastie-11 @messyhairday-me @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @juststalking @electra-phoebe

Efthalia woke up startled by the continuous knocking on the door, accompanied by muffled chatter. The sun peeked through the curtains, illuminating the room as well as her messy bed. She let out a deep sigh and stretched her arms, before sitting up against the bed frame.

“Come in!” She shouted out, mentally preparing herself for the day.

“Good morning, your highness.” A servant bowed, entering the room with a few other girls carrying food platters and amphoras filled with water. Every morning was the same, she would eat while her hair was being done, followed by clothes and makeup.

Today they had picked out a more elegant gown made out of blue silk. It had a boat neckline, falling down to Efthalia’s waist, where an embedded belt tightly accentuated her figure. It was one of her favorite dresses, as it brought out the few bluish specs in her eyes.

“I would like to know the schedule for today.” She queried Aethra, who nodded slightly before beginning to speak.

“His Royal Highness has decided upon the terms of the alliance with Lesbos, and he wished to announce them to you. Lord Ameinokles has also sent an invite regarding a joint participation to Elusinia.”

Efthalia pursed her lips and exhaled loudly through her nose, thinking about that damned man who wouldn’t leave her alone. Nonetheless, she had to remain calm and poised, so as to not cause any conflicts.

“Please tell the lord that I will be attending the festival, however I wish to respect the presence of Demeter and remain solitary.” She answered, coming up with an excuse.

Aethra nodded slightly before exiting the room, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.

Heading to the balcony, she grabbed a lyre and began playing.

***

Walking down the empty hallways of the castle was never one of Efthalia’s favourite activities, especially not when she was surrounded by guards. The sun was in the centre of the sky, indicating that lunch was quickly approaching, however her father had called her in to discuss the alliance.

Having reached the entrance to the throne room, two guards dressed from head to toe in armour opened the doors as she made her way inside.

“Ah! My beautiful daughter, there you are.” King Iatragoras exclaimed, gesturing for his generals to exit the room.

“I would like to know about the alliance, father. Was it successful?”

“Not so fast, Αγαπημένος (sweetheart), trust doesn’t build in a day. Which is why-.” He took a deep breath, thinking of how he could formulate his words. “Which is why King Hyllus of Lesbos has required you to move there.”

Her breath caught in her throat, thinking about going to a foreign island which she has only recently had any contact with. Eftalia’s body heated up and mind went blank, as her hands started fiddling with the loose material hanging over her chest.

“I’ll be sending Lord Ame-”

“Don’t you dare say his name. I’m going alone If the only option is going with him.” The girl interrupted, horrified at the prospect of being stuck on an island with that stubborn cow.

He nodded his head slightly before raising from his throne, heading towards her.

“I know it is difficult, περηφάνια και χαρά μου (my pride and joy), and I know I am asking a lot of you, but this alliance will be difficult as it is, and we will all try to make it successful. Besides, I heard there are quite a few monarchs over there who could be considered...προβληματιστές (troublemakers). Who knows, you might get along.” He smiled, his heart breaking at the mere thought of sending his daughter away.

“Everything will go well, I can assure you of that, father.” She murmured, enveloping him in a reassuring hug. The king leaned into her embrace, the memories of the two of them throughout the years filling his mind.

She slowly pulled apart, sending him another smile before leaving the room.

***

The room was filled with an all too knowing voice, light and singsong, as Aethra grabbed a few glass jars from the mirror before her.

“The King told me about the alliance as well.” She informed Efthalia, while grabbing her chin and raising it, the mirror being filled with her soft reflection. The princess admired her own plump features as Aethra applied a reddish liquid to her lips. The scar tainting the lower part was prominent, even after years of having received it. She was a curious child, so, upon finding a shorter tree in the castle's garden, she attempted climbing it and hurt herself after she slipped. It brought back pleasant memories, those of a time when she had no worries, when her mother would cuddle her at every possible occasion.

“I have some news for you.” Aethra's voice brought her back to their world, as she met her gaze in the mirror.

“Oh?” A cunning smile forming on her face, being mirrored by the girl.

“Upon hearing your comment about the Lord may we not say his name,” she mocked, earning a chuckle from her, “the King has requested for me to join you in Lesbos.”

She shot up from the chair, turning to her, more excited than ever before, as she hugged Aethra so tightly she feared she would break.

“Oh gods, I’m so heavenly grateful for that!” Efthalia beamed, finally letting go of the woman to let her breath.

“My sentiments were the same as yours, your highness.” She bowed slightly, making her frown and pull her up by the shoulders.

“Enough with the reverencies. We are now official Travel Cronies, and we will address each other as such.“

The older woman chuckled, shaking her head at her foolishness before speaking again. “As you wish. Though I must say, I would rather be caught dead than be called a travel cronie.”

Efthalia snorted and rolled her eyes, heading towards a rack with a few dresses hanging from it. “We’ll find a name later. Point is, no more your highness or extreme politeness. For all I care, you can gossip about everyone in the castle with me.” She turned around at her words, sending Aethra a devilish smirk.

“Oh you have no idea how much of that I have.” Aethra began, dragging her by the shoulder and sitting her down again.

“Well please do share!” Efthalia inquired, but was shot down by Aethra’s strong glare.

“Once we get on the ship, and away from this island, I’ll tell you everything. But for now, you must act like a royal.”

Efthalia scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing to look in the mirror.

Five years ago, when she was 13, her mother was struck by a dangerous disease, leaving Efthalia and her father alone. That was when Aethra came into her life. She was working as a servant, even though she was only two years older than her. They chatted a few times, growing more comfortable together each day, until, eventually, they became good friends. Aethra was like a sister to her; despite not looking similar at all. Efthalia was tall and curvy, long brown hair reaching down to her waist and bright green eyes placing their gaze on everything there was to see in this world. Aethra, on the other hand, was short and lean. Her dark skin was contrasted by her numerous scars. Efthalia had never dared ask her where she got them, but she could never help but gape at them. Her knuckles were the most bruised, almost white, and other large bruises on her shoulders. A shiver went through the girl as she imagined where she could have possibly gotten them.

“So, when are we leaving?” Efthalia wondered, breaking the silence.

“Tomorrow.”

“What?!” She screamed, her eyes widening in horror. Aethra stared back at her, amused, and continued braiding her hair.

“You see, the alliance was made one week ago. The fact that your father has only now mustered the courage to tell you is a different thing.”

Efthalia gasped, and sent the other girl a mock offended gaze, earning a smirk from her.

“Gods, Aethra, I did not know you could speak like this.” She laughed, faking a posh gesture.

“Oh you have no idea.”

Both girls kept laughing and chatting, as the sun slowly descended, being replaced by the luminous moon and trillions of stars.

Efthalia let out a melancholic sigh, now alone in her room, and took a seat on the balcony railing.

“Hear me, oh Hermes, the messenger of Zeus, the son of Mea, you that has a powerful heart and are inside all fights, leader of the people, lively, you that has many thoughts, director, killer of Argos with the winged sandals and friend of men and prophet to the people, you that gets joy from struggles and the targeted tricks and holds the snake in your hands, you are the one to explain it all. Hear my prayer, and give us safe passage on the voyage, and guard us once in Lesbos.”

She blew out the candles laying on the floor and shut the blinds before returning to her bed and falling asleep.

***

“Efthalia!” A loud voice shouted from on top of her, startling the poor girl awake.

“Gods! What?!” she shrieked, before seeing Aethra’s familiar face and calming down.

“Time to go, princess. You slept in while everyone got the luggage packed onto the ship, but now you have to get ready.”

Efthalia groaned, rolling her eyes and grumpily getting out of bed. She wasn’t interested in appearances at the moment so she sat down at a table and began devouring some fruits.

“Slower. You might eat me too.” The older girl chuckled, brushing out her hair.

“Shut up.” Eftalia answered, her mouth half full. Aethra braided the girl’s locks into a simple crown and decorated it with golden leaves.

Once she was done eating, she moved on to her makeup, applying some shimmery powder to her eyelids and a red cream to her cheeks and lips.

“Which dress do you want?”

“The lightest.”

Aethra scoffed and headed towards the rack, picking up two, and holding them up for Efthalia to see.

“One is opaque, one is short.” She informed her, raising her eyebrows.

“Short.”

In only a few minutes, Efthalia was fully dressed and prepared to leave. She was nervous, there was no denying. Her hands were shaky, she couldn't help but play with the few loose strands framing her face and her gaze scanned every single bit of her surroundings.

“Hey, It’ll be alright.” Aethra’s soft voice reached her ears, as she placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I know. You’ll be here with me.”

The two girls smiled at each other as they made their way to the docks, where the king was waiting, along with his generals.

“Father.” “Your majesty” They both spoke at the same time, sending each other a squint.

“Aethra, my daughter.” He responded, bowing his head to them. “I would like to thank you for helping the alliance. I will be sending messengers every week to check on you, and I hope the gods will protect you wherever you may go.” He spoke softly, addressing the two girls who had already become teary-eyed.

With another nod, they turned around and walked up the bridge, entering the ship. It was large and filled with sailors, as well as guards.

A loud sound coming from a horn filled the air, and the vessel rocked before beginning to move, leaving the island behind.

“I’ll bet you twenty gold coins he’s crying.” Aethra whispered in Efthalia’s ear, earning a snort from her.

“He most definitely is.” She answered, before looking out to the sea. It was calm. Peaceful. Perhaps it was the god’s sign that they will be safe.

Each wave passed the boat, replicated by thousands around it, forming a united outlook of the endless blue. Efthalia admired the sea, for hours on end, as the sun’s reflection on them kept changing angles, and occasional sightings of fish and birds reflecting on the surface of the water.

“Hey you.”

“What is it, Efthalia.” Aethra answered the girl.

“Nothing, I’m just bored.”

The older girl snorted and turned to look at her, her muscular arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh is that so, princess. You can sit in silence for hours, and now, when we have barely a quarter of the trip left, you decide to annoy me?”

“Oh. You think this is annoying? Just wait until you s-”

“Enough!” Aethra laughed, pushing the girl’s hands away, interrupting her from whatever attempt she had to mess up her hair.

“Fine. Tell me palace gossip.”

“No.”

Efthalia puffed and grunted, pretending to flip her hair over her shoulder and slumping forward.

“Oh how merciless. You promise me scuttlebutt and then refuse me. I am truly hurt and offended.”

“Oh poor princess. What will you ever do?” She sighed, looking into the horizon. “Efthalia look!” she exclaimed, pointing to the approaching land.

The princess gasped loudly, a hand covering her mouth, as she couldn’t help but light up in excitement. “Oh my gods!”

In front of them was a large island, bigger than theirs, that was for sure. Hundreds of boats were anchored around the shore, tiny specks scattered all around the platform, waving and cheering for them.

“Oh gods. That many people were waiting for us?” Aethra squealed, not yet believing her eyes.

“Oh no. That’s a tad too much socialization for me.” The other girl complained, causing Aethra to shove her slightly.

“Right, right princess. I’m sure that you, who has to be carried away from parties forcefully, will have a lot of trouble chatting with these people.”

“Oh shut up.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

A sudden screech accompanied with the boat slowing to a stop interrupted the girls from their banter, bringing their attention to the guards, who were now speaking to them.

“Come with us, please.”

The two girls obeyed, following them down the bridge and on the platform, where they were greeted by a man and a woman; their guess- the king and queen.

“Welcome, your highness, to Lesbos. We have been awaiting your arrival.” The man said, bowing to Efthalia along with his wife.

“It is a pleasure to arrive. Your island is truly a glorious place.” She responded, earning a chuckle from the queen.

“Oh, the sunsets are miraculous. You arrived just in time to catch them. My name is Adeia, I am the queen of Lesbos, and this is my husband, Hyllus.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Efthalia, and this is my most trusted companion, Aethra.”

They continued formal chatter, everyone saluting each other, as they slowly made their way up a hill, entering a temple, which had a large table in the middle, filled with food, drinks and candles.

“Now let us dine!” The king called out, as everyone sat down.

Efthalia couldn’t help but notice that four seats across from her were empty. She wondered if that was where the troublesome monarchs her father had mentioned sat. Her question was soon answered as four people entered the room, laughing loudly and soaking wet.

“Uncle!” One of them called out, a charming smile appearing on his face. He was well built, a facial structure anyone would kill for, and dark brunette curls falling to the middle of his ears.

She saw the King sigh loudly, shaking his head and gesturing for them to come over.

“Damiano. This is Princess Efthalia, and her πιο έμπιστο φίλο (most trusted friend).” He said, gesturing over to the two girls. Damiano made his way around the table, holding Efthalia’s hand as he bowed and kissed it, repeating his actions to Aethra.

“It is my absolute pleasure making your acquaintance, ομορφιές (beauties).” He purred, winking at them both, earning a blush from Efthalia.

“Stop, you dramatic ass, it’s my turn.” A deep, feminine voice came from behind him, and Efthalia couldn’t help but look at the owner of the voice. A gorgeous, blonde girl stood before her. She was short and petite, her piercing blue eyes checking Efthalia out shamelessly.

“My name is Victoria, but you can call me yours.” She winked towards the princess, enveloping her in a hug. If it weren’t for the closeness, Victoria could have seen just how pathetically Efthalia’s knees trembled at her words. When they pulled apart, she was at a loss of words, so she sent her a shy smile.

“Well, that didn’t take long.” Aethra muttered from behind them, a cheeky expression on her face.

“I’m Thomas! It’s lovely to meet you both!” Another boy talked, this time capturing Aethra’s attention. He was tall and slim and had the puppy-est eyes she had ever encountered.

“I’m Aethra. I love the hair.” she complimented, grinning when she saw his shaven cheeks enveloped in a lovely red color.

“Thanks. I like- umm, I like yours too.” He quickly responded before going to sit down at the table, followed by the two other people.

“I must apologize for my friends, your majesties, they are not usually like this.” A tall, brunette man informed them, sending the girls a polite smile and a bow.

“Oh it’s alright. They’re cute anyways.” Aethra answered, making sure Thomas could hear what she said, and taking pride when she saw him fiddle timidly in his chair.

The man let out a short laugh before nodding and heading to the seat himself.

“Now that you’ve met the troublemakers-” The King began speaking but was interrupted by a scoff.

“I’m sorry, your highness, but I truly do not remember a single time in which we caused any form of chaos!” Vic defended herself, proudly shaking her nose.

“Last week you descended from the mountains in a barrel and knocked over the fences to a chicken coup, thus forcing every single guard in town to go around and catch them all.” The Queen deadpanned, making everyone at the table laugh.

The girl’s cheeks heated up slightly before she leaned back down and picked up her half empty glass.

“If my memory serves me right, It was Damiano’s fault.” she stated, lifting her hands to prove her innocence.

“Oh hold up a second. The moment you get blamed for something you instantly turn into a saint, but whenever you’re with us you brag about being the most troublesome??”

“Indeed. Your perception skills have improved, I see. Must have been since that time yo-”

“Don’t.” He interrupted the girl with a stern voice, leaving no space for arguments.

Efthalia couldn’t help but enjoy their playful banter. Every once in a while, her gaze fell upon Victoria’s dress- white silk, she could bet, a fine material, clinging to her body due to the water still dripping out of it.

“Hey princess, my eyes are up here. If you want to undress me that much we can meet up after dinner.” She spoke, making Aethra choke on her drink.

Efthalia, on the other hand, was ready to sink into the chair and let it engulf her alive.

“I didn’t- I me-mean I wasn’t...no, not like thAT I me-” She kept stuttering while everyone stared at her, clearly interested in what she was about to say.

“I suggest you make a decision quickly, because everyone seems to be done with dinner.” Aethra spoke up, elbowing her lightly.

“I suppose she is right. The whole town is to your disposition, but for tonight I’m sure these four little devils would like to give you a tour.” The King said, rising from his chair along with his wife, before leaving the temple, along with the other guests.

The only people left in the room were Efthalia, Aethra, Victoria, Damiano, Ethan and Thomas.

“So, where shall we start?” Damiano asked, grinning towards his friends.

Taglist:

@fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe @makeavvish @perfectlyunbiasedobservation

Lol I actually wrote this a long time ago i just forgot to add a tag list

[superworldunkown]

G-Unit

AN: I was so excited to see my ‘Wash Day’ and ‘Hair Dare You’ stories get to 100 likes! It makes my heart, and my kinky, curly, coily, hair so full! <3 So, in continuation of all things Black Hair, I came up with this one right after my new unit came in the mail. 

Summary: You can’t be stopped when you put your mind to it, despite how much Class-1 A tries. But when Mineta gets a little too creative...heads - and hairs will roll. Bakugou x Black Reader (Mans loves his Melanin) 

It was Tuesday, and that meant, practice day! Your favorite day of the week. Putting hero students in their place. How could you not love it?

Recently, General Studies students trained with the Hero course students; it was unfortunate that since All Might’s retiring that villain attacks were on the rise, but better for the entire student population as everyone knew some general self defense tips and tricks. It also gave the hero students some additional training. You were delighted by it. Even though you were a general studies student, your focus was on hero psychology and trauma support, and up until this point you rarely had some live heroes to study and look after. And, Class 1-A was notorious for having unique quirks, and even more unique personalities.

To top it off, you were Hella competitive, even the soon to be heroes couldn’t keep up. Today’s practice was similar to the last few weeks, dodge and evade. General Studies and Hero Studies students were split into two groups. The task was simple, Offensive teams had get to the other side of the Battle Training Grounds. Defensive teams had to stop the offense in their path. You loved this game. You were a natural zig-zagging, dip dodging destroyer on the course. Teams would get delighted when you were on their side, and pissed when you weren’t. Bakugou even cracked a ‘hmph’ of approval when you were assigned to his team at the beginning of training. 

You couldn’t help it, you were a little smitten by the aggressive little demon. Something about his outward pride and boisterous attitude always made your heart skip a beat. He was a rather curious student, and your analytical side was also fascinated. Also, the mans was very, very good looking in his hero uniform. Even if he screamed at you for being a ‘reckless idiot’, you’d let him save your ass any day. 

Point Being, it was a real treat being paired up with Bakugou.

You two always had weird energy around each other. Mina - The matchmaker as she liked to call herself, would often send you text messages between classes with ‘facts’ that Bakugou was into you:

‘Sis! Bakugou called you by your REAL NAME today in class when he and Kirishima were talking about joint training...he did follow it with ‘is sucha slowpoke’ but TRUST me, its a sign!’ 

“Oi! You gonna keep starin’ or get movin’?!” Bakugou called a few feet ahead of you. His gauntlets lit as he zoomed past Sero and Mineta on the defensive team. 

You smirked, dodging a flash of white tape, “Hah! Not all of us have the advantage of a quirk, let alone high ground, BoomKat.”

“And Stop calling me that!” He retorted. 

“Huh? I can’t hear you over the victory speech I’m rehearsing in my head. Once again Y/N, undefeated in the joint training courses. A victory of eleven to -” 

Before you could finish your rather ill time victory speech, your body careened to a metal wall, hitting you with an extra sting. Now you were pissed. With determined eyes you tried to throw your body into motion you were slammed back towards the wall by a sticky stubborn force.

“See if you try to get outta that one m’lady.” 

Oh...you knew that voice. That dreadful, nasally, shrilly, perverted voice. Mineta stood in front of you, the purple balls atop his head wiggling with excitement. 

You turned to the side, noticing your long, beautiful, EXPENSIVE box braids were currently held against the wall by several infamous purple orbs. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you cross the finish line,” Mineta spoke, “Yaoyorozu and Uraraka are on my team, and if we win...maybe they’ll let me in on a victory hug! So don’t move...not that you can anyways.” He finished with a laugh.

The sound of your angry screams sent shockwaves throughout the training grounds. Mineta got the hint, and scurried off towards the finish line.

Now you were pissed. Just like your crush (dare you say it) you had a bit of an ego and you didn't’ like to lose. But, you didn’t like the only solution that came to your mind. You just paid for this unit! It was brand, fucking new! 

“You better run, Mineta.” Your eyes were practically glowing as you reached towards the tip of your fake hairline, tugging at the lace. 

“Where the hell is Y/N?!” Bakugou barked from across the finish line.

“I don't know, I thought she was right behind you.” Mina answered while staring at the training field, “It’s not like her to be this late.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about her Pinky.” Mineta let out a small laugh, “She got a little caught up in my sticky ba-”

“BASTARD!!” Mineta had barely any time to protect himself as you burst across the finish ling in a flying kick, punting the small boys body into the air and directly into a water tower. 

Everyone stared at you as you huffed in anger, catching your breath. Sweat pooling down your wig cap and onto your forehead. 

“Umm,” Kaminari spoke softly and nervously, “Y/N...what happened to your hair?”

“That was a 3,400 Yen, fresh out the box unit you perverted asshole!” You screamed to towards the water tower, “You owe me a brand new one by this time tomorrow or I’ll cut off every single one of your sticky balls in your sleep! All of them!” 

Your turned your head towards the rest of the students, all of them, even Bakugou, jolting upright at your angry glare, “Tokoyami, give me your cape, NOW!”

The dark prince whipped off the black fabric faster than the night itself. You quickly whipped the fabric around your head into a semi decent hair wrap and stormed off before anyone could question you, not that they wanted to.

“What just happened?” Kaminari asked, still confused and terrified.

Mina let out a low whistle, “Mineta messed with her wig? Damn, he should be lucky he’s still breathing right now. Alright, let’s draw straws on whose getting him out.” 

Bakugou stared at the carnage you left behind and then back towards you. Damn, you were ambitious, scary, and strong? To some, you were a nightmare. 

But to him, you were a dream. 

[flappingdragon200]

Nozel Silva: The Demons' Vampire

A/N: This turned out to be a one chapter story instead of a one shot headcanon lol. Anyways, enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, this wasn't how he imagined himself to be in the future. Biting someone's neck, and sucking it until the human vesicle was nothing but rotten black flesh and bones, turning into black ash. He himself was surprised (again) as when he woke up next week's morning, having the thirst for blood. It sickened him to his bottom-dwelling rotten core.

How the hell did this even get this far... Nozel thought as he grabbed a fist full of his silver hair and pulled harshly, too tired to care about the pain, then massaging where he pulled at.

He still remembers the day he killed his first victim. It was disgusting, but satisfying, as he put it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold. The moon shined down on the Clover Kingdom. The wind was chilly as it danced in the air. On the streets, citizens walking about. And a royal who laid in his soft queen-sized bed, sleeping soundly, shallow breaths could be heard from his slumber. But something was off. Very off.

He woke up, feeling hungry, and angry. He threw the covers off him and marched out his room door slowly. (As it was still night outside and he was feeling tired.)

He quietly walked down the halls, of Solid's and Nebra's rooms, not wanting to wake them up. (Solid is a light sleeper and if he is disturbed he will go on full rage mode and destroy shit, which will then alert Nebra and she will start wreaking havoc as well.)

When Nozel was finally passed their rooms he began to speed walk over to the ginormous kitchen that they had.

Once he was in the kitchen, he opened the large ass fridge they had and looked for at least a snack or just something to satisfy his hunger until breakfast. His stomach growled so he quickly grabbed an apple that was saved for dessert today after dinner. But did he care? Nope. He was hungry.

Nozel walked into the living room where he would normally read his book in the morning. (One of those fantasy Novels as Yami puts it lol. Many chapters tho.) He sat down on his favorite spot and started to eat the apple while thinking of what he has to do today.

I have paperwork to do today so I'll get that done first... Then I have a business meeting at 3... Then I train solid at 6PM... Maybe I'll take short breaks here and there to ease my mind? I don't kn-

Shank!

Nozel's eyes widened a little startled at the sound. As he was taking another bite of his apple, he felt his teeth sink into it further than they were earlier. The apple turned to back and faded away as it turned to ash in his hands. It felt as if his teeth just rapidly grew into sharp pointy fangs.

Nozel sat there in silence. He had no idea what had just happened. It happened so quickly he didn't have time to react. He slowly got up from his seat and went to the bathroom in pure horror.

He got to the bathroom and turned on the lights, turned to the mirror, and almost screamed in pure shock, but instead the air was knocked out of him after he had seen his disturbing reflection.

His eyes were bloodshot, black soon closing in from the ends of his eyes. Sharp teeth, or known as fangs hung from his mouth, while large amounts of drool dripped down from his open wide mouth. His skin turned into white, not how it was earlier, almost looking like a ghost in human form.

Nozel backed up afraid. He was scared of himself. His eyes traveled all over his face in search of a prank. He pinched himslef to see if it was a dream. No. This wasn't fake, this was real. His eyes were pitch black his pupils were grey-ish white, looking like a monsters' eyes, and his stomach growled louder. He was growing hungry by the second. He didn't know what to do.

Nozel got up as he recalled the memory. The way he stalked the girl walking down the hallway and into her servant bedroom. How he waited for it to be silent to enter. How he walked closer to her and sank his fangs into her neck. The way she screamed, killed him in the inside. He regrets everything he's done.

Nozel looks out his balcony window and the sun is starting to rise, which means it's almost 6 o'clock. Nozel sighed as he walked to the bathroom and turned on the lights.

He opened up the cabinet underneath the sink and got a single blood packet out and sank his fangs into it letting them suck all of the red liquid out of the bag. His nose scrunched up in bitter disgust. And he snarled as he felt himself replenish his energy. He hated himself. He hated who he became, who he is. He hates his existence entirely.

He wishes he could go back to normal. But when one makes a deal with the devil... They don't go without being unharmed.

He remembers when he saw the face of the warlock that had cursed him 2 weeks ago. His face was soft, his skin was pale, like his. A smile on his face. His height, towering over him. A calming yet destructive aura. His smooth, shiny short black hair. His cold and warm red and pink eyes. The peacefulness that lied in his voice.

Nozel would be lying if he said he didn't have a small tiny crush on the taller male. He may deny it but he knows he does. A small pink hue made it's way and sat onto his cheeks as he thought of the warlock. He remembers the words he said to him, the first time hearing his calming voice.

"I can see that you are struggling in magic power and strength. Let me help you get stronger. How about we make a deal..."

The first mistake was even looking at him. The second, accepting the proposal. And third... Making a deal with The Devil. He knew he should have put more caution and thought into it. But it was something about his presence that made his body react sooner than his mind ever could. Now he knows to be more careful when approaching someone new and untrustworthy. He'll make sure he thinks twice before approaching.

By now after reciting all the memories from just 2 weeks ago he was almost done getting dressed. All he needed to do was put in his cloak and wrap his satchel around his waist with his grimoire inside. (after that)

Nozel walked to a desk with a fairly large mirror and hair products and along with a few hair brushes and combs. Nozel picked up the brush and started to untangle all the knots that were in his hair from a night's rest.

The pain of the de-tangling reminded him of his training with the warlock. How many times he fell onto his knees when sparing with him. The times where he was forced into doing chores for stamina and muscle. And the times he trained his magic to form into water, and steel. After his training was done he was 10x more stronger than he was before he met the warlock. He's pissed that he had listened to every command the warlock threw at him. He hated that he was bossed around by a demon, in disguise.

Nozel grit his teeth in annoyance and hatred. But the pull of a knot pulled him out of self-agony. He remembered what he was doing now.

A few minutes of wrestling with his hair he finally had gotten rid of the knots and tangles. He ran his fingers through the shiny and silky smooth like hair and thought of how he touched it. How he brushed it. How he braided it. How he took care of it. (Talking about the warlock when I say "he")

Nozel stopped and shook his head slightly to bring him out of thought and continue to style his hair.

He picked up the gel from a near corner of the desk and opened it to apply it to his resting sides of hair so that the strands won't get in his eyes and so it's off of his shoulders. After finishing, he placed the gel back in it's original spot and opened a drawer with a small box inside it.

The box was decorated with a small black ribbon at the top formed in a lightly tied bow. The box was a gold yellow color with darker lines of gold running across covered in a small amount of silver and gold glitter, with smaller black lines outlining the bigger stripes. And then there was a note beside it that said,

"It's a spare. Use it when you can't find your other one. Take care love." - Nivira.

Nozel felt a small smile form on his lips as he picked up the box.

Nivira was his best friend since childhood and before he met Fuegoleon. She stayed by his side and protected him, stood up for him, and encouraged him. She was the best friend he had ever had. That was until... She was dragged away from her home by her parents and sold as a servant for some higher group of nobles. But after a long time of trying to find her, Nozel found her in a dark ally way shortcut all bruised up and heavily wounded with obvious broken bones. So he brought her back to his estate and treated her wounds until she was back in shape again.

She has dedicated her life to him and will never leave his side again. It was like he had a personal bodyguard. Nivira might say that she's only staying by his side because he needs protection in this dark and cruel world, but deep down Nozel knows that she's scared that she might get sold again or something worse. So he started to train her and invited her to stay at House Silva as long as she wants and that she's always welcomed here.

Nozel closed his eyes as he imagines what she looked like. Blue hair with a bit of black dye at the top. A toothy grin on her face. Lightly tanned skin. Greenish blueish eyes. Her small form standing 5.1 in front of him. Her nails painted black and grey. And her enormous energy, fighting spirit, and childish behavior. He loved her the way she was. She brought the light to him when the darkness was threatening to swallow him whole.

He's grateful for her. And she's grateful for him.

Nozel pulled the lightly tied bow and it came undone. He opened the lid to the box and there he saw, A blue Silva pendant in the middle of black foam. It was made out of the most hardest metal the both of them could find. He placed the box onto the desk and started to braid his bangs. After he was done he took the pendant carefully in between his fingers and pinned it to the tip of the braid.

He looked into the mirror and smiled, Perfect.  He thought.

He stood up and put the box back in the drawer and closed it tight.

But happy times always end. And that's when it hit him. The realization that he forgot he's having breakfast with his siblings at 7:45. He looked over to the clock and it said 6:37.

I still have maybe an hour or more to spare... Nozel thought and opened the door and closed it silently when he walked out of his room making sure not to disturb any servants that are still sleeping. (Servants get up at 7 o'clock)

He walked down the hallways of the estate quickly and quietly not wanting to get caught. Instead of going to the entrance of the estate he went to the back where the garden is. He can sneak out of there through the yard and exit the palace without getting noticed (hopefully). It was a perfect plan.

He came to the door that lead to the huge garden the maids took care of. He opened the door and he saw a dim light on the ground, meaning the sun was rising, quickly. He closed the door and started to speed walk, hoping that no one will notice. (Btw the garden is so huge that it ends near the capitol main roads. There's a dirt path showing the way to the main roads of the capitol.)

After a few minutes of speed walking he could see the exit to the garden. Just barely out of reach.  He started to sweat Immensely knowing that anyone could catch him sneaking off. But... Just... One... More... Step...

He sighed as he reached the exit and wiped the sweat off his face. He opened his eyes and saw the sun-lit dirt path that lead to the royal capital's main roads where all sorts of people would be but not at this hour. He walked towards the dirt path and began the walk to the capitol.

-In The Capitol-

Nozel walked out of his favorite coffee shop with a cup of coffee in his hands. He slowly sipped on it as he was walking down the streets. Not many people were out at this time of day. But the people that were, whispered and looked at him oddly.

"What's lord Nozel doing out this early? Could he be running errands for his squad?" A noble male whispered to his friend beside him.

"No. I'm guessing he's just out doing his normal thing. See the coffee in his hands? That's how I know." His friend whispered back.

Nozel closed his eyes a bit and sighed quietly. This was one of those many times that he wished he was a commoner so he can get by just a single day without someone whispering about him or looking at him with a cautious look everywhere he went. He didn't feel safe no matter where he went. And he always had to keep calm and keep a good reputation, as to just one tiny slip up could be his down fall. For good.

He took his last sip of his coffee and through the empty cup in the trash can on one of the streets. He just now noticed that not many shops are open. Many have gone out of business from lack of funding or lack of management. Some of them even have been removed for higher class family businesses. A sum of them are also being remodeled so they are closed momentarily. A few of the shops he shopped at were either closed, or remodeling.

As he was walking down a street going to his destination he saw something, someone... Familiar... He took a closer look and recognised that short black hair shining in the sun, and the smoothness that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Nozel's eyes widen with shock and his nose scrunches up in hatred. His teeth grit in pain from the memories of the past.

He notices that the man turns around and walks towards him. He's only 1 foot away from him. The man leans into his ear and says,

"Oh How Is My Little Vampire Doing?"

End.

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For: @mrnozzlesilversimp

After a long time I have finished the story inspired by you art :,) thank you.

Also @thespiralgrimoire

@shinyshammie

@vermillionflames

@thoughtfullyrainynightmare

I come baring gifts for you? I would also like your opinion on it as well. I need to improve more. Thank you. 🙏💖

[secret-engima]

spideypoolalways

Does Regis ever ask how Titus has papers for the boys? Whats Cor or Clarus' PoV of this? What are some things (fluff or humor) that the boys get up to? Because I can see them getting adopted into the Ulric Clan because of shenanigans and Nyx going 'Yes, these are my people' since LCs just remind me of Ulrics with magic. And how do the Galatians take to the nephew of the Nif Chancellor and clone of the Crown Prince? Since I'm imagining that Titus told some of them and the

spideypoolalways

rest are guessing anyway. And does everyone assume that Noctis and Nox's magics resonated since they're kinda sorta close to each other/are the same person? How does Regis take the news that the only reason that Noctis got healed is because Nox pretty much felt everything Noctis did? /Both/ of his sons were basically attacked by a daemon and he only knew about one of them at the time and didn't do anything to calm or reassure Nox? (Clarus: Only because you didn't know

spideypoolalways

About him, Regis. Regis: Thats no excuse, Clarus.) Does Iris get to be a Shield or did Nox latch onto Axis or one of his kids? Does Acastus find Prompting and drop him off with Noct/Cor? Does Nox hang out with Noct, Ignis, Gladiolus and Prom all the time or does the memories act up enough to make him feel weird about it? How does Regis take his brother and son's Sick Days? What about Dissidia? The 3 youngest Royals getting snatched and the group watching on Crystal

spideypoolalways

Vision? Dad Titus/Regis freaking out over their kids having been summoned to a death match? And how exactly does Titus see the boys? Sons, brothers, cousins? Oooh, more Trauma. Noct, Nox and Acastus w/others playing and end up in the Crystal room. Cue the boys lighting up, maybe passing out because the magic hits their young system really hard (its why Royals aren't supposed to be Presented until 18) and everyone freaks out, and news makes it to Regis and Titus that they

spideypoolalways

Are in the infirmary and the gist of what happened via panicked guards and rush there immediately and are jumped by panicked kids talking and crying about what happened. I didn't realize I had so many questions. But now I need to know. 👀👀 Please!🙏

spideypoolalways

Oh! Just remembered a little more! Does anyone pick up on the people/places that he shouldn't know? Do they assume that Nox got some of it from Noct, like with the Marelith? Or are they assuming LC/ Oracle DNA mix?

Me: Yes, Regis asks about the papers and Titus doesn’t OUTRIGHT admit he did an illegal but he does grudgingly explain that he needed papers in case the NIfs came looking and he ... knows ... a few people who can help ... “recreate” papers for refugees who lost theirs in whatever fire or tragedy drove them from their homes.

Regis mulls over that for ten long seconds then blatantly pretends he never heard it in the first place. Those “people” likely saved the life of his son and half-brother, he can let it slide this once.

I need Nyx Ulric to adopt these two now JUST so Nyx can tease that he’s related to Captain (then later when he learns that they’re Lucis Caelums he can quietly die in a corner because OH NO HE’S RELATED TO THE KING). Not sure how or when Nyx adopts them, but he absolutely does.

It probably happens when he's just a wee bit sloshed. Not enough to be incoherent or insincere, but enough that he doesn’t feel any fear offering to adopt the pair while babysitting them because Captain had to work late and Nyx is off the combat roster until his ankle heals. Once he’s sober he is a Panic™, but Captain takes it surprisingly well and Nox loves his new braid. Acastus just looks Amused™.

Lib slaps Nyx over the head because IDIOT THINK THIS STUFF THROUGH then gives him another drink because TWO MORE ULRICS. It’s a good thing Nyx is an Ulric Keeper in this AU, because he can teach them most of the Ulric Clan stories and dances and make them proper Ulrics.

Acastus loves introducing himself as Acastus Ulric Drautos, both because it’s fancy like “Lucis Caelum” is and also because it made both Titus and Nyx spit their coffee the first time they hear it.

The Galahdians ... have mixed feelings at first. But the predominant one is that it doesn’t matter that this kid is clearly related to the Chancellor (at first they all think the Chancellor bedded Captain’s Aunt, since they don’t know about the LC blood, and that’s why he looks like Ardyn) because Captain has clearly staked a claim on him. Galahd (in my HCs) is a Very Adoption Heavy culture and big on judging people by their current family rather than any previous blood ties, so ... mostly the Chancellor thing gets intensely ignored. Acastus isn’t an Izunia, he’s a Drautos (and then later an Ulric). So they will treat him as such.

But in private there is some debate on exactly what happened, for the Chancellor to vanish around the time his ... relation (son? They mostly assume son), shows up in Drautos’s care.

No few number of them think Titus stumbled on Ardyn with the two kids and killed the Chancellor to save them.

For Nox ... the Lucis Caelum blood is basically impossible to hide. This boy LOOKS like a literal carbon copy of the Prince but younger and he’s young so his control over his magic is ... not. Not that good. Especially not when there’s so mUCH of it.

All of Galahd listened to the Glaive who was on babysitting duty when Nox had a rare tantrum and skewered the wall with ghostly blades and all privately, immediately agree to Never Tell Anyone. Ever.

Well. To be fair, they do debate whether they have a duty to tell Regis, but again the Adoption Culture comes into play and they decide it’s up to Titus to spill that secret. A few Glaives do ask Titus about it (Titus nearly has a heart attack because SINCE WHEN DID THEY KNOW) and when they ask if they know who the mother was, Titus looks very grim and very, very quiet for a long time, then admits:

There is no mother. There never was.

They stare at him in confusion until Acastus, lurking nearby with too-sharp eyes, gives a smile that could cut and says brittlely that “amazing things that can be done with science these days you know. Truly amazing. Why, get a blood sample and a tank of the right solutions and you could probably grow anything you wanted”.

The Glaives are Horrified™. So is the rest of Little Galahd when it gets around and then is made a Clan Secret by all the Clans unanimously. The secret never leaves the borders of their little slum.

Also yes, people assume that Noctis’s and Nox’s magic resonated because Nox is a clone and it freaks them out.

Regis is Such A Guilt when he finds out how Acastus knew about Noctis’s injury. No it doesn’t matter that he DIDN’T KNOW NOX EXISTED. One of his son’s (his FIVE YEAR OLD son) was suffering. Was screaming in agony and terror and Regis didn’t do a THING about it and no amount of logic can make that better.

Nox latches onto Axis’s triplets in this AU so while Iris will be best friends with him, his Shield, Hand, and Sword are actually all made up of Axis’s three kids. Axis is a BIT of an internal Scream when Nox is at the age people start making noises about him building a Retinue and taking Iris as his Shield and Nox goes, “NO. I have a Shield already! A Hand and Sword too!” And stuff spirals out to reveal Axis as Clarus’s kid (Clarus takes it much better than Axis thought he would, tho Axis didn’t expect to see Lord Amicitia go deathly pale and sit down hard in the nearest chair).

Honestly Iris might be the future love interest in this AU you never know. It would be hilarious if nothing else.

Bold of you to assume Acastus didn’t find Prompto early and bring him home to NOX because “Look Beloved Nibling I Found You A Friend!”. Prompto is a confusion because Nox is like- 4 at the time. But Prompto likes babysitting and playing with Nox and hearing Acastus’s stories and Titus just kinda- sighs his way through the playdates until he realizes that Prompto has been staying in his house for about two weeks with no sign of the parents.

Titus, after much snooping later, sitting at the kitchen table of Grandma Ostium quietly pulling his hair out: HOW DO YOU ADOPT A THIRD CHILD. DOES IT COUNT AS KIDNAPPING IF THEY COME OVER AND STAY WITH YOU FOREVER AND THE LEGAL PARENTS NEVER NOTICE. ACASTUS WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME.

Acastus: I regret nothing. Do you want me to fake Prompto’s death? I’m sure there’s enough Prompto’s out there that nobody will notice if you gain a nephew called Prompto Drautos.

Titus, holding his face in his hands while Grandma Ostium laughs at him in the corner: NO, ACASTUS. DO NOT FAKE THE DEATH OF THE CHILD. How do you even know how to do that? Nevermind I don’t want to know.

Roughly a year later when Everything Gets Revealed, Titus and Cor: *intense staring contest over Smol Blond Child*

Cor: You don’t know where he-

Titus, growling like a cranky Behemoth that might very well bite off someone’s head: He’s a Niflheim created clone. I know.

Cor: ....

Titus: He's been living in my house for a year. I’ve seen the barcode. It’s not like I wasn’t raising one already.

Cor: His legal parents-

Titus: Is me. The Argentums were emotionally neglectful and didn’t even notice when he hadn’t come home for a week and a half.

Cor: *guilty angry silence*

Titus: ...Kid could use an uncle. If you want to man up and be part of his life.

(hgfhg this is post is getting long Imma try to speed through the last questions a bit)

Yes, Nox hangs out with the Chocobros when he can because he adores them (especially Brother Prompto and Team Mom Iggy) but he also has his own friend group in the Little Galahd community so it doesn’t strike anyone as odd really. Nox is a naturally loving child for all he’s shy and Iggy and Gladio are Noctis’s friends and Prompto is his adopted brother (and later Noctis’s best friend).

Regis does Not take the Sick Days well. It makes him alarmed and angry because Lucis Caelums aren’t supposed to get sick days from their own magic and it speaks of BAD THINGS that both of the presumably experimented on and tortured LCs have them.

I’m going to have to come back to Dissidia another time (someone remind me) because this post is too long to ramble here but it would be- it would be Great. Honestly. It would either be the 3 littlest, just Acastus, or just Acastus and REGIS for some brotherly bonding and any of them would be Great and Chaotic. Crystal-o-vision absolutely happens.

The Crystal Room is under 24 hour guard so I don’t think the kids could wander in by accident, plus Acastus would actively avoid the area because of his Trauma.

Now Acastus being presented when he turns 18 on the other hand... >:))))))

Short Version: Much shouting, much alarm, much angst from Regis and Titus and everyone and also the first Sick Day Acastus has had since he turned 17 and by far one of the worst he’s ever had in his (second) life.

I might to a longer version later but not right now.

For Nox’s oddities and odd knowledge they kind of assume both? At first they think it’s just him resonating with Noctis so deeply that there’s a transfer (cue angst from Regis because what is going to happen to Nox when Noctis fulfills his destiny as Chosen King???) but then when Nox starts knowing stuff Noctis doesn’t/can’t know, they start to wonder if the scientists ... Tampered with his DNA. If they got their hands on Noctis’s, which should have been impossible, then it’s not all that out there they got their hands on Oracle DNA.

Sylva is ... very alarmed and very confused when Regis secretly contacts her on a secure encrypted line to ask if there were any ... symptoms to look for in an Oracle child. Because- yes there were but WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?

Regis: they wouldn’t happen to be *lists very specific things*

Sylva: ....Have you seen any Messengers nearby lately.

Regis: Carbuncle, a black puppy that disappears into thin air, and a bird woman who can summon wind storms. She calls herself Garuda.

Sylva, having a minor crisis behind her Queenly Facade: I am Very Sure I only have two children so please explain this. Right Now.

Regis: Well............. NiflheimclonedmysonandIthinkmixeditwiththednaofyouoryourdaughterandhehasseerpowersandImayormaynotbepanickingrightnowpleasehelpme.

Sylva, slowly running that over in her mind and figuring out what Regis just said:...

W H A T.

XD Honestly Niflheim might invade Tenebrae only to find the royal family gone because Sylva coincidentally packed her backs and took her and her children on a secret trip to Lucis to have a look at Nox, then since they’re there when Niflheim invades and a spy gets word on what just happened Sylva and Co just- stay there. Oracle Mom Death averted.

Also they absolutely think that it’s Luna’s DNA they used to make Nox because of how instantly Nox gloms onto Luna like a limpet- JUST like he did with Noctis and Regis, and how Luna gets this dazed look in her eyes as their magic tangles and she whispers, “I ... I know you. I know you, don’t I Little Prince? I met you in a dream.” Luna starts crying softly as she pets Nox’s hair and when Sylva asks in alarm why she’s crying, Luna blinks and whispers, “Because he was crying in the dream, and I couldn’t comfort him.”

Acastus lurks in the shadows, watching it all with ... very mixed feelings.

Oracles. He could have gone his entire second life without meeting anymore Oracles. Aera she looks so much like you is that what our daughter would have looked like and oh astrals I KILLED her. I killed the girl with your eyes and your smile and laughed about it later.

[just-jordie-things]

Meeting JJ at the midsummer party and slipping and falling into his arms?

You lived on the Figure Eight, much to your dismay.  It wasn’t as luxurious as literally anyone made it out to be.  You hated it here, every part of it.

You hated the yachting, you hated spending all day on a boat sitting around or playing cards.  You hated golfing, you once even hit your own foot as hard as you could manage with a club just to get out of it.  but most of all, you hated your poser of a family, and their poser friends.

Everything was always about appearances.  Appearing wealthy.  Appearing happy.  Appearing well mannered.  It was all bullshit.

And right now, you hated the Midsummer Party.

You hated it every year it came around.  Nothing made you more uncomfortable than this stupid fucking party.

You’d spend all day getting ready, prettying yourself up to your parents standards.  Caked on makeup, hours of perfecting the braided crown around your head, and even making sure every loose curl that fell around your face was perfectly bouncy.

You’d wear a dress that wasn’t your style, even if it did kinda accentuate your curves...

And then you’d sit around all night, dying of boredom.

Your parents would mingle with their fake friends, brag about you where they could, and you’d wish that you could drink yourself to death.

This year however, you had the privilege of watching a certain blonde waiter make his rounds with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.  You didn’t know he was a server, usually you knew all the servers because you’d spend more time talking to them than any of the Kooks. 

But it was a pleasant surprise.

You'd maybe had a crush on JJ Maybank since grade school.  Even though he was a Pogue and pretty well known for hating Kooks.  You couldn’t help it.

He was so cute.  And he was funny.  And you’ve had this dumb crush on him for the longest time.

You spent most of the night just watching him with heart eyes.  He looked good in a vest and slacks.  Real good.  It made the night a little easier.

However your legs were stating to fall asleep from sitting around all night, and it wouldn’t kill you to do a lap around the party.

Of course as soon as you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron, your mindset changed.

He let out a low whistle, his hand grabbing onto your wrist before you could keep walking.

“(y/n) (y/l/n),” He greeted, eyes raking over your body.

You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your throat.

“You look good.  Have you been here the whole night? I haven’t seen you around” 

“Yeah, that’s cause I don’t like you” You reminded him, and snatched your hand out of his hold.

You often had to remind Rafe of that fact, but it never seemed to do the trick.

“You want a drink?” He asked, already taking a glass off of a passing server’s tray, handing it out to her.

“No, thanks” You shook your head, and turned to head off in any other direction.

He stopped you again, this time his grip on your wrist tighter than before.

“Rafe cut it out-”

“You know, I don’t get why you don’t just chill out and give me a chance” He said, like it annoyed him.  Your brows furrowed, and you rugged on your hand again.

“Rafe, listen to me when I say this, never in a million years” You said as seriously as you could.

“Jesus Christ! Why do you have to be such a bitch all the time!” He yelled loud enough that he was gaining the attention of Kooks around them.

However, instead of realizing something shady was going on, they all juts walked away in embarrassment.

“Rafe, let me go,” You told him, trying to pull out of his grip again.  “You’re acting like a crazy person” You hissed.

“And you’re acting like a stuck up bitch! Can’t you see that I just like you?” 

Yeah right! You thought, and kicked him in the shin so you could finally yank your arm out out of his slightly threatening grip.

You were successful, for about two seconds.

Because you put too much force into shoving him away from him, you tripped over your heels, and next thing you know you were being sent full force into a server behind you.

Lucky enough for you, that server was quick to react, and suddenly you’re not crashing onto the floor, but you’re being held in the arms of- of course- JJ Maybank himself.

You think this might be more embarrassing than falling on your ass.

“That did not just happen” You mumbled, in shock that you even fell, but that your crush of six years is literally holding you in his very strong arms.

He chuckled, mistaking your comment as a compliment of his grace and swiftness.

“Charmed?” He asked teasingly, and then helped you back to your feet.

You were speechless as you adjusted your dress, and still a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.  JJ didn't seem to mind though.

“Are you alright, though?” He asked, now glancing over to Rafe, who had stupidly stuck around, probably to bother you some more.

“She’s fine, she just tripped” Rafe answered for her, again, stupidly.

JJ already had a bone to pick with Rafe Cameron, but to see him hassling some poor girl who clearly had no interest in him would have been icing on the fucking cake.  So he glared at the Kook before looking back at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked you again, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You could only manage a small nod, because he had very beautiful and very distracting blue eyes.

But when you turned back to Race, you swore you could have swung at him right then and there.

“You son of a bitch-!” You shot forward, about to slap him, or maybe grab him by the neck, you weren’t sure.  But before you could decide, two hands wrapped around your hips and pulled you away.

“Woah there firecracker,” JJ laughed at your outburst, then a bit by surprise. “Let’s not make a scene”

You ignored him, for once, trying again to lunge at Rafe, but two arms wrapped around your middle, pretty much trapping you in place.

And then you were being dragged away completely, because JJ was starting to get the feeling that you were more of a fighter than you seemed

“I swear to god Rafe, if you ever touch me again I will hit you with my car!” You screamed after him, despite JJ dragging your ass away from him.  “If you even look at me again I’ll do it! I will!” 

“Okay, calm down princess,” JJ hushed once he got you around a corner, away from the prying eyes of the Kooks.  

He finally released his hold on you, and despite really wanting to, you didn’t make a break to finish what Race started.  You stayed put in front of him.

“The hell was that about? He bother you often?” He asked, his hands on his hips like he was scolding you.

Well, he was scolding you.

“Often? Try every day.  It’s Rafe.  You know Rafe, right?” You scoffed.

It dawned on JJ that he didn’t know you all that well, which was odd, because your personality was bursting at the seams, and so far you seemed pretty cool.  For a Kook.

“Right,” He chuckled.  “Something tells me though that you’ve never tried to kill him before” 

He was still laughing, and your brows furrowed, before you crossed your arms.

“Are you making fun of me?” You asked, making him laugh more.

“I mean, you’re kinda hilarious”

“Hilarious? You think I wouldn’t hit that asshole with my car? Because I will- I’ll run him down-”

“I believe you, I believe you,” JJ cut you off before you could say anything too incriminating.  “You’re just, a Kook, is all” 

That didn’t seem to help, as now you were leaning back against the wall you were standing at, and your brow raised.

“And what makes you think that makes me any less murderous, hm?” 

He laughed, and was about to say something stupid, probably.  Some off handed flirty remark that usually worked on the girls around The Cut, but before he could pick one of the lines, a security guard was grabbing him by the back of his vest.

“You’re not a server here, are you?” The large man asked.

“Ooh, tough question.  Am I serving the people? Yes.  Am I being paid? Unfortunately not.  I’d like to have a discussion about a raise though!” 

“Alright, can it Maybank” The guard muttered, not amused one bit by JJ’s clever banter.

You watched with great amusement as JJ was dragged away, similar to the way he’d just dragged you away from Rafe.

“Doesn’t feel too good, does it?” You called with a shit eating grin, following next to the guard.  

Darryl was his name, he always worked the Midsummer Party.

“I like you.  We should hang out” JJ replied smoothly.

You giggled, and tapped Darryl on the shoulder.

“You can let him go, he’s with me” You said in your sweet Kook voice.

“This guy?” Darryl asked, looking down at JJ unsurely.  “Thornton and Cameron just told me he was causing some trouble-”

“Don’t pay them any mind Darryl, they’re just jealous,” You replied, and wrapped your arm through JJ’s as casually as you could manage.  “You know they’re always up to no good” You added for good measure.

The guard still seemed unsure, eyes sliding between you and JJ.  Something didn’t add up.

But he wasn’t paid enough for this.

“He’s your date now?” He asked, mostly because that’s what he would say when inevitably some high ranking Kook got upset at the presence of a Pogue at their party.

“Sure is” You replied confidently.

And just like that, he was heading off, not bothering to ask any other questions.

You grinned, and pulled your arm out of JJ’s.

“So, you want to hang out now?”

___

a/n this was longer than I planned but I like it :3

[lailannajacobs]

What in the Seven Hells is a Junabee? | GIBP III

Pairing: Fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Loki take a trip to the seamstress. 

Warnings: fluff! 

Word Count: 5.3k 

A/N: OKay so I love this chapter for a whole bunch of reasons I won’t get into, but I also know it’s a set up for all the fake dating (and other events) you’ll get in the next chapter (and the rest of the fic) so don’t worry, my fav trope ever is coming!! I hope you enjoy, and as always, it makes my day to hear what your thoughts! <3 

The seamstress was in a beautiful house, which overlooked the river down below. It reminded you of the type of houses in the book of fairy tales you and Nat used to have; tall and spindly, and reminiscent of a pine tree. It was the same luscious green as the surrounding flora and had over a dozen tiny stained-glass windows that glowed like emeralds in the sun. You’d never seen anything like and it, and you couldn’t help but stare a little too long.

Loki knocked on the door and took a step back, hands clasped behind him as you waited. The black, double doors were much bigger than the one at the restaurant, and you were pretty sure that meant a Dwarf wouldn’t be greeting you this time. You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, a lot of dread and somewhat excited to see who would greet you.

A strong, broad shouldered Fey woman opened the door, a cat-like grin spreading across her face as she took in the king. Her chestnut hair was braided back and out of her face, but the rest was loose around her shoulders in tight curls. She was dressed in black from head to toe, pants tucked into knee high boots, paired with an intricate top that looked more like armour. Had you passed this woman on the street you would have assumed she was a warrior and not a seamstress. Even standing before her now, you weren’t sure you were at the right place.

Loki took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it, an equally wicked smirk on his lips.

“Valkyrie, I’m so glad you could make room for us on such short notice,” he practically purred, “we appreciate it.”

“You were just lucky someone canceled at the last minute,” she said with a wink, “I don’t make exceptions for anyone, least of all you, Loki.”

He let a breathy little laugh, the two of them obviously good friends, if not something more. If there was, it wasn’t like you didn’t get it. She was beautiful. Honestly, they both were.

Her gaze slid toward me and her grin morphed into something a little less playful and much softer, “and you must be the mysterious future queen I’ve heard about,” she dipped her head, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you said through a tight smile.

This was the first time someone other than Loki had mentioned the actual consequences to this deal and you weren’t sure you liked it. Queen… You weren’t meant to be queen. Ever. How in Cerdwen’s were you supposed to be queen? You shoved the thought to the back of your mind. There was no point thinking about it and freaking yourself out more. You just needed to keep pretending like you could actually do this.

Anyways, she was a seamstress, not a council member whose opinion could change everything. You had to assume that Loki must have brought you into the city to practice your act around people who’s opinions didn’t affect your fates, but even if he hadn’t, you were glad for the excuse to learn how to play the role.

“I’ve heard so many great things about your talent, Miss Valkryie,” you lied, settling into the part as best you could, “I can’t imagine having gone to anyone else. It’s just so nice to have finally met you.”

“You’re too kind,” she waved away the compliment, but her eyes narrowed slightly. You held your breath, afraid she could see right through you until she motioned for you to follow her in, “but I do have some pieces I’m sure you’ll like.”

The walls on one side of the hallway were painted navy while the other side was painted a dark green, all trimmed with gold mouldings and decorated with paintings of men and women in extravagant clothes. There were rooms branching off to either sides. The layout of the house was far bigger than you’d assumed from the outside. You couldn’t help but wonder who this woman was exactly. The riches of this home were beyond ordinary…weren’t they? You clenched your jaw in an attempt to hide your anger. If these people had homes like these then they had the means to help any one of the other realms who were still rebuilding. Yet they hid on their island like the rest of us didn’t matter. Odin was a monster, stroking the embers of hatred that sizzled in his realm, mounting them to a burning fire that destroy the seven others. But these people — the Fey — they could do something about it. Instead, they just sat in their riches and their magic, doing nothing. You were thankful neither of them could see your face.

You entered a room that might not have seemed small if it hadn’t been stacked with books from floor to wall on every side except for the one you’d entered through. There was large wooden desk in the corner, cluttered with papers and scraps of fabrics and in the centre, a pedestal with two small poof seats in the opposite corner.

“Remind me again what you’re looking for, Loki,” she motioned for the two of you to take a seat.

You stayed standing keeping an eye on her and door. Loki shrugged and gracefully eased onto the cushion, legs sprawled out in front of his as if he was in his own home. You glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out what exactly their relationship was, but both of their faces were impossible to read. The only thing you knew for sure was that these two had known each other for hundreds of years.

“Other than a few formal gowns, I would suggest you ask Ms. YLN,” his gaze slid over to you, eyes lit up with mischief, “the choice is hers.”

You barely restrained from scoffing. Like you had any choices in the deal.

Valkyrie turned to face you, surprising you with a genuine looking smile on her face, “Come then. I think I’ve got ideas you might like. Do you want your future king to join us?”

Valkyrie probably had no idea that she’d just asked the best question possible. Or maybe, judging by the sly grin on her face, she had. You didn’t know if that immediately made you want to trust her or the exact opposite.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be a surprise,” you chirped, “he really doesn’t need to stay.”

Loki let his head loll back, looking at you through hooded eyes with a slight, knowing grin on his lips, “of course. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

He stood with efficiency and speed unmatched by most of the other races. When his back was to Valkyrie, he shot you a pointed look. You narrowed your eyes but quickly made sure to smooth out your features before Valkyrie could get wind of what was going on.

When he was out of sight and the door had closed behind him, you felt a shimmer of magic and wondered if Valkyrie felt it too. If she did, she didn’t say anything. You had a feeling that whatever it was, it was a precaution to make sure you wouldn’t sneak off again.

“I see you like to dress to move around,” was the first thing she said.

You couldn’t help but look down at the plain black pants and dirt brown sweater as if you’d forgotten you’d been wearing borrowed clothes all morning.

“I need to be able to move,” you answered gruffly.

She nodded, “I get it. This world hasn’t been easy, especially to humans.”

“And what would you know about the world being unkind?” you snapped, the riches of her home mocking you.

“This realm was at war like every other hundreds of years ago,” her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but there was nothing soft in her voice, “just because we haven’t had it the hardest doesn’t mean we don’t know hardship.”

Something about the haunted look on her face made you feel stupid about your outburst and you cursed yourself again for not being able to keep your emotions in check. Valkyrie barely looked older than you did, but she spoke like she’d lived through the war — seven hells, judging by the way she wore her clothes like armour,  she might have even fought in it. You wanted to ask her about it, but doubted you could get through even an inkling of the conversation with your emotions in check. You weren’t about to expose yourself by asking questions to which you already knew the outcome. Still, it didn’t mean she deserved your judgement.

“I’m sorry,” you maintained eye contact as you spoke, hoping she knew that you meant the words, “you’re right.”

She ignored the apology with a wave of her hand, and you sighed, glad she didn’t seem to think anything was amiss.

“I see why he likes you. That fight in you…it’ll remind him of his,” she continued, almost to herself, “he’s been going through the motions for far too long now.”

You paused, wondering why she was so open, sharing about her king like that until you remembered, that as his future queen, this wouldn’t be inappropriate, especially that she was complimenting you. Still, it was hard to ignore the fact that she thought Loki was only going through the motions. They Fey you’d met looked nothing like that.

“I’m flattered you think so,” you said with a smile, hoping you could rely on pleasantries to get by, “you’ve certainly known him longer than I have.”

“We’ve been,” she paused with a huff and a little shake of her head, “it feels like we’ve known each other for an eternity. I’m glad he’s finally found someone who makes him happy.”

“Well, he makes me happy,” you almost gagged on the words, but the way her smile grew made you think that you’d said the right thing.

Valkyrie lifted her hand and a book high on the shelf flew off and into her hand. You pretended to inspect your nails, trying not to show how much her little display of magic amazed you. It seemed so simple and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was something you’d be able to do if someone took the time to show you.

“I was thinking we’d start with something like this for formalwear,” she pointed to a gown that looked equally gorgeous and terrifying, “and then we move on depending on what you like or don’t like. Yeah?”

You shot her what you hoped was an enthusiastic smile, the moment bittersweet. Nat would have loved sitting here with you, thoughtfully pouring over all the designs and teasing you into trying something outside of your comfort zone. But she wasn’t here. Your hand fluttered to place on your chest where the pendant lay under your shirt. She was being held hostage and you were here. It didn’t matter than you were now in similar situations, yours was so much easier and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about being here. This whole thing seemed frivolous and pointless. The Hand was the only thing keeping you from walking out.

Valkyrie cocked her head to get a better look at you, “you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you picked up the design she’d just shown you, thankful your hands weren’t trembling, “ready as if my life depended on it.”

Loki had reappeared as you were nearing the end of Valkyrie’s many suggestions and had taken a seat in the far corning, looking on in calculated silence. It was hard to focus with him back in the room and you weren’t sure if you should change the way you were behaving around Valkyrie. She’d been so carefree and thoughtful about the dishes she’d had to offer that you’d almost forgotten what you were doing here. She wasn’t the council so you knew you didn’t have to impress her but a part of you still felt like you should remind her that the two of you were in love. Or at least maybe act a little differently?

After glancing over at Loki for what felt like the millionth time, he raised a brow. You glared at him. For someone who was so worried about the two of you being seen together this morning, he wasn’t doing a spectacular job at faking it right now. He shrugged lazily as if to say what do you want me to do and stayed silent.

“I’m glad you told him to go because you clearly can’t take your eyes off of him,” Valkyrie remarked, her eyes fixed on the design she was altering based off of your comments.

You quickly turned back around, thankful that she had read your confusion as romance and impressed that she was so aware of her surroundings. Maybe if people expected to see love, they wouldn’t look so hard to think it wasn’t there. You mentally rolled your eyes. Kidding yourself was a waste of time.

You weren’t sure what to say to her comment, so you stayed silent, pasting on an awkward little smile and hoping it was the right thing to do. She lifted up the modified design and you could only nod, speechless, your smile becoming genuine this time.

“So that covers your daily garments. I do have dresses for…” the words fell from her mouth and she pursed her lips, eyes flickering to the ground before she came back up with a smile. You looked between her and Loki to try and see what you missed, but Loki’s face looked nothing other than bored. She continued quickly before you could get a better read on the situation, “dresses for every day use if you want. Clothes are like armour. Whatever you need, I can get it done.”

There was a seriousness to her voice that made you think that she didn’t just mean that figuratively, but the ominous tone stopped you from asking outright what she meant by it. There was something they weren’t telling you, but you doubted either of them would tell you what it was if you asked.

You jumped at the movement by your side, not having heard Loki get up.

Loki took her hand in his, “thank you, Valkyrie. Truly.”

Her brows furrowed but she smoothed it over quickly with a laugh, “you are paying me, remember?”

“True,” he murmured, shooting her a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Go,” she shooed him away with a laugh, “I’m tired of seeing your face.”

He put a hand on his heart in mock offence, the playful king back as quickly as he’d vanished, “you barely saw me today.”

“And bring you future queen around more often,” she continued as if he didn’t have a point, “I like her.”

He grinned mischievously, “as do I.”

And in that moment, he looked so convincing that you could see why she believed him. Loki didn’t appear to be a stranger to lying, even to someone who he’d apparently known forever. Although it meant that your chances of convincing the council were better off because of it, you didn’t like what that meant for your end of the deal.

“You know, Valkyrie,” he began.

“Don’t bother,” she cut him off with a stern half smile, “I’m good where I am.”

He dipped his head low, “I know…not unless the realms are sinking into the seven hells. I remember.”

She nodded curtly but shot you a wink as if you knew what in Ceridwen’s name they were talking about. You smiled back, your brain already going through the possible things a king could have repeatedly asked a seamstress for. Nothing that made any sense came up and Loki was already waiting in the doorframe, ready to go, so you added it to the ever-growing list of things you didn’t understand but somehow knew were important.

After your goodbyes, you left the house the way you came, heading back up the mountain to the palace.

“The meeting with the council is in a few hours,” he said, that casual joking tone he’d used with Valkyrie gone from his voice, “I suggest you wear something nice.”

“A gown,” you clarified.

He shrugged, “as long as it’s nice.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I wore pants?” you demanded incredulously. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Nat in anything other than the constricting gowns Odin trapped her in.

“I thought you were gorgeous wearing the tattered clothes you broke into the palace with,” he strolled on without looking at you, “if we didn’t need the council’s approval I wouldn’t have said a thing.”

Stunned, you grabbed his arm and spun him to a stop, wondering what in the seven hells was going on. His lips curled into a wicked grin and he stepped closer, dipping his head so your eyes were practically at level with his glowing ones, “don’t worry, sweatheart,” he crooned, “I’m simply getting a little practice in.”

You grunted and pushed past him, muttering asshole under your breath even though you knew his Fey hearing would catch it. You had a good idea where you were headed so you stomped forward, letting him stroll a few paces behind you. It didn’t matter that he could easily catch up to you if he wanted. The false sense of privacy made you feel better. It gave me the space to breathe.

You took in your surroundings enjoying the streets of Natalos. You stopped your stomping, taking your time getting back, not sure if you’d be stuck in the palace or allowed to roam wherever you wanted. You were hoping the latter, not only because you hated the confines of the palace but because there was a chance the Hand was in the city and you didn’t need the extra obstacle of trying to sneak out.

You weren’t sure if you would be stuck in the palace or if you’d be allowed to wander wherever you wanted. You hoped it was the latter not only because you hated being stuck in the palace but because there was a chance the Hand was in the city and you didn’t need the extra obstacle of trying to sneak out of the palace.

The sun had gotten much stronger, hanging overhead now. The kiss of the heat on your skin felt like it was finally melting away the cold of Niflheim. You sighed, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second as you walked, basking in the feel. You and Nat would feel the sun again. You would escape. You had to.

“Watch out for the fruit,” Loki interrupted your thoughts, much closer than he was before.

“What out for the what?” you echoed, stumbling to the side in surprise and trying to figure out what he was talking about.

His eyes widened and he reached out for you. You backed out of his grasp instinctively,  grabbing onto the nearest tree to keep from tripping over. Then something cracked down on your head and it started pouring rain. Your whole body straightened in shock as the water poured down your face and neck, and down your spine. And then the stench hit you. You gagged. Wiping the liquid from your eyes, you noticed it had a slightly pink hue and was more like goo. Loki was completely dry. It couldn’t be rain. So what was it? He motioned for you to come closer, his lips tight as he tried to suppress a smile.

“What in the seven hells was that?” you practically shouted.

He pointed above, still not saying a word as he tried to keep himself together. The tree was massive and dark blue, sprawling across half the street with its thick branches and fan-like leaves. Hundreds of pink fruit about the size of your head hung precariously, swaying gently in the breeze.

“That’s not an explanation,” you growled, wiping more of the foul goo off you.

He swallowed and pointed to a sign that read, Beware, falling Junabees. This time, you actually looked around. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you probably would have noticed the pink-stained cobblestones littered with Junabee carcasses — that and the blatant warning. You took another step back toward the other side of the street just to be safe and glared at him.

“I wouldn’t walk too close to the edge next time,” he chuckled, though the wide grin on his face told you that he was enjoying this far more than you were.

“Why in Ceridwen’s name would you people keep this here?” you demanded, “it’s disgusting.”

He paused at your reference to the old gods and shrugged, motioning for you to come a little closer. You took a wary step forward, only following his request because you weren’t sure the Junabees were done with their attack. Tentatively, he raised a hand. You flinched back and he paused waiting for your nod. He brushed some of the goo off your cheek with his thumb, the motion slow and gentle. You stood still as a statue, not sure how to react. His eyes were bright and focused, the corner of his mouth quirked upward in the ghost of a smile. All you could do was stare at him, barely breathing.

“They’re surprisingly difficult to grow and the berries can be quite delicious when prepared properly,” he murmured, taking more of the goo out of your hair, “so we let them grow wherever they chose to pop up. No one’s allowed to cut them down.”

The thought of eating one made you gag, “and how do you prepare them?”

His lips pulled into a sly grin, “wine.”

You scoffed and pushed past him, trying to clean out the goo out of your ear on the way. You were tempted to grab a Junabee and throw it at him, but you were too worried that it would burst in your hand if you tried. That wasn’t a risk you were willing to take, even to put him in the same situation as you.

He caught up quickly and kept stealing glances at you that were impossible to ignore.

“What?” you snapped.

“When we walk into the council room, you might want to wipe the murderous look from your face,” he mentioned with a grin, enjoying this far more than he should.

You looked around, trying to find something to take your mind off the fact that you wanted to punch him, “give me what I want, and you won’t have to worry about me meeting your council,” you said through clenched teeth.

A slight chuckle was all you got in response and he led you down a street you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t tell if he was showing you more of the city or making sure that you couldn’t find your way around it. You sighed. This was going to be impossible.

You were dragging your feet when you walked into the palace later that evening, your thighs burning from climbing the steep streets. You couldn’t help but think that all of this would have been easier if you weren’t human. There was nothing you could do about it now, but it didn’t change the fact that you hated it. Though now that you were stuck, all you wanted was a nice dinner and a warm bath, both of which were things you could actually get here and not in Niflheim — that was if you could get through this stupid council meeting or party or whatever it was.

“Valkyrie has already sent over a few options for you,” he said when you came to a stop in front of your door, “I would recommend you wash up before you meet the council. I can’t have them thinking you live in the pig sty.”

Although your heart soared at the idea of warm water, you were far too grumpy to be thankful, “and so what if I showed up like this?”

You tried your hardest not to wince as the pathetic retort came out. You were fed up and sore and not your best on an empty stomach. It probably would have been better to ignore him, but the words were out now.

He smirked, “take a bath or don’t. If you repel the council with your stench, I can’t say that I’ll be disappointed.”

“You know,” you huffed, “the only reason I smell this bad is because you didn’t warn me about the stupid Junabees in the first place.”

“I told you to be careful,” he countered, leaning lazily on the doorframe.

You nodded like he actually had a good point before snorting, “sure. I doubt you could have been any more vague about it if you tried.

He grinned and pulled a little more goo out of your hair.

“Ugh,” you stormed past his still grinning face and into you room.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he called before you slammed the door in his face.

“We’ll have to make this quick,” Loki said, walking into the kitchen, “I left YN alone to wash up and get changed before the council meeting and told her I’d be back in an hour.”

��So we’ve got forty-five then,” Bucky said with a smirk, propping his feet up on the table.

Loki shook his head, “let’s make it thirty.”

That only made his grin spread even wider, “I see you’ve got your hands full with our future queen.”

“That may be so, but at least she’s not boring,” at Bucky’s raised brow he said, “she discovered the Junabees today.”

“So a solid thirty minutes then,” he chuckled, both of them fully aware of how hard it was to to wash that goo out of hair.

“Let’s get back to business,” Nebula snapped from the head of the table, cutting them off before they could say anything else.

Loki nodded, knowing he’d been putting it off. With his assassin back so soon, it could only mean that there was nothing good to report. He didn’t want to ruin his surprisingly good mood with the same answers Bucky had been coming to him with for the past two moons, but he had to get it done and over with.

“Right. Bucky. You found…” Loki drifted off, unable to ask the question he already knew the answer to.

Bucky shook his head, “nothing. If Hella’s working with someone else, then she’s hiding it extremely well.”

“There someone else,” Nebula affirmed, shooting Bucky a fierce look, “I’m sure of it.”

Bucky turned and gave her his full attention. They said nothing, but Loki knew that the Angel and Dark Elf could practically read each other’s minds. They had only ever told him bits and pieces of what had happened all those years ago before they had found him, but he knew they wouldn’t be sitting in his kitchen if they hadn’t found each other first.

Bucky nodded, “okay. I’ll find whoever it is.”

“And what about that future queen of yours?” Nebula snapped, whirling around to him. From her place at the counter, Wanda looked over her shoulder, but didn’t say anything. Nebula drove on, all business, “who’s she working for? You said she wants the Hand but I don’t believe for a second that a human who knows nothing about magic wants the Hand for herself.”

Loki shrugged, “herself, someone else, it doesn’t matter. Either way, she’s not getting it. The Hand stays locked up, right now more than ever. If anyone else gets their hands on it…”

They shuddered, still haunted from the last time the book had fallen into the wrong hands.

“What did Gamora have to say about it?” Bucky asked, offering Nebula half of his bread roll. She looked at it with hatred, but Bucky shoved it her way until she took it.

“She hasn’t spoken to me since YN’s arrival,” Loki looked over at Wanda, “any luck on that end?”

“I think so,” Wanda slid the potatoes she’d been chopping into the large pot and came their way, “Gamora says that she can’t remember who cursed her but I believe that’s the key to breaking it.”

Loki stared at Wanda, intrigued and a little impressed Wanda could get Gamora to divulge anything personal about herself, “go on.”

“Right, so we haven’t gotten anywhere because we haven’t been able to identify the magic that was used to curse her, correct?”

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair to look over at Nebula who shook her head.

Despite all of his training, Loki also had to agree, “it’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen. And the Witches are still being silent, but I doubt that even if they agreed to help, they’d know what it was any more than we did.”

“Right,” Wanda went back to the pot and stirred a few times, thinking, “which is why I doubt any of us can figure out what it is. I think Gamora is the only person who could identify the magic, so what if we knew who cursed her?”

Bucky grinned, “then she would know what kind of magic was used to bind the curse.”

“We don’t actually have that information,” Nebula pointed out gruffly.

“Then we’d need a remembering spell,” Loki suggested, knowing that just because they now had a new theory didn’t mean they were any closer to breaking Gamora’s curse.

Wanda winced and tilted her head from side to side. He sighed. There was no doubt in his mind that he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say next.

“Or we’d need someone to get in her head.”

“No,” Loki answered immediately, “no. She’ll never let me in and trying might kill me. Her power might only be a tenth of what it used to be but that’s still more than I’m willing to bargain with. If I managed to unlock the memory and I’m still in there…”

“Then we’ve fried the king,” Bucky added helpfully.

Loki shot him a looked that earned him a cheeky grin in return.

“Wanda’s option might be the only one,” Nebula countered, glaring at Bucky, “memory spells are hard to come by and even harder to execute effectively — even for Loki.”

“It’ll be her decision,” Wanda affirmed though her voice was no louder than a whisper. They all snapped to attention knowing she was right, “if she thinks it’s safe, then it’s her decision whether to go through with it or not.”

Loki nodded solemnly, “agreed.”

Wanda walked back over to her pot, stirring and humming softly as if they hadn’t been discussing Gamora’s fate, “I’ll keep looking for a spell, but you should talk to Gamora.”

“You don’t want to do it?” Loki asked with a smirk.

She offered him a small smile, “I know you’re going to see her later. The honour is yours.”

“How kind,” he said with a laugh before heading back out to get ready for his meeting with YN and the council.

[aen-maggs]

YOUR MESS IS MINE - Chapter 1

It was not a large crowd, but there was only so much space in the Southside Ballroom after the ring and the ramp was set up. Still, it was a larger crowd than I had seen in a long time. My hands were stinging and my knuckles were bloodied, but it didn't bother me. I was feeling something, even if it was for a short time. I was in one of the back stage rooms and trying to clean up. I could hear the cheers in the front room, and I closed my eyes trying to focus on that white noise. Once I let out my "little demon", I had to get her back in the box.  I felt my rage slide back into that place in my brain and I gritted my teeth and looked in the mirror. That might be the start of a shiner on my left eye.  Cool.

My hair had gone prematurely gray a year ago, so I had dyed it jet black. It was a mess after the match, with strands coming out at all angles from its braid. I turned the water off in the sink and I tried some relaxed breathing to help flush the adrenaline from my system. It had been an intergender match, and there was becoming more of a call for men against women lately. My opponent, Denny, had been tougher than most guys I had fought. Denny, also known as Dallas West, was a big guy at 6 foot 2 compared to my 5 foot 3. He didn't mind doing the job for me because I never pulled punches and never did anything fake. My hits were real, and I expected the same from my opponents. In the end, he was glad to put on a good show with someone he respected.  Even if it had been a while since I had been in the circuit.

There was a darker side to me, and one that I was very careful with.  My "little demon" craved the pain, and I was never sure what we enjoyed more.  There was something special about the crunch of my fist hitting someone's face, but feeling the bumps and scrapes made me feel alive in ways I didn't most of the time. It was not something I was proud of, and in some ways I felt ashamed by it.

My long ago past had been pretty crazy, but in the last year or two, I worked to keep myself as even kilter as possible.  Sure, I could be a regular woman by day. People were more likely to take me serious if I was acting stable, so I work to keep the crazy under wraps. Business attire by day, caged animal at night.

I opened my eyes feeling myself return to the fine upstanding citizen I liked to project. Grabbing a towel, I sensed I was no longer alone. Drying my hands I looked up to see a familiar face. Not that I knew the guy, but he was certainly recognizable even dressed down as he was. His glass blue eyes shined, his stark blonde hair blazed in the darkened room, and his Cheshire Cat grin was unmistakable.

"Good evening, Mr. Rhodes." I said politely with a smirk.

"And a good evening to you, Ms. Kelly. That was one hell of a match out there."

I tossed the towel down, picked up my bag and smirked at him. "I appreciate that, but Denny has a way of making people look good."

Cody shrugged. "I've seen other videos of you. There are some of your European tour around two years ago. More from five years ago when you toured the states and Mexico. It's impressive."

I shrugged. "Well, a lot of people can catch some of that stuff on YouTube. I'm just now kind of getting back in after a small hiatus. It has been a little harder to catch attention now that there are more female wrestlers getting the spotlight. It's nice that some people are seeing some stuff I've done." I stood there attempting to make it look like I wanted to walk out, but I could tell Rhodes wasn't going to move out of my way. In fact, he stepped into the room, moving closer to the lockers and leaned against them.

Running a hand across his jaw and scratching what seem to be a tiny bit of stubble on his face, he smiled at me. "Do you have any idea why am here?" he asked.

"I'm guessing it has something to do with that company you got started a while ago."

Cody grinned. "So, you have heard of us. What do you think?"

I put my bag down realizing that we were in for an actual talk. I wasn't opposed to the man. It was more of a guarded feeling I had. Too many times have I seen people that I respected in the business get picked up off an independent circuit and then molded into something they weren't. Cody Rhodes had a reputation for being different, but I didn't have the connections I once had to find out for sure.

"Well, I haven't seen a whole lot of my kind of style in your women's division. Your Japanese  headliners are  awesome and you have some amazing talents. But, I am a hardcore queen. Pure brawler style. I am a very much a supporter of inter gender matches and tag matches. You guys don't do that." I said with a blunt edge to my voice.

"Yeah, well, in the beginning we weren't really sure what we wanted. There were some that felt we needed to keep the inter gender matches off the shows and even others that wanted us to limit the blood when it came to the women's division.  Now, with a year under our belts and the new outlook we have brought to fans, we have more people wanting those back alley bar fight matches.  There is also more people wanting to see women go up against some of the men, and a lot of our guys are open to it.  A couple of them you have already worked with." Cody said.

"I know who is on your roster.  You don't have to give me the run down."  I said a little louder than I had intended.  The issue for me was there was a few people, and one in particular, I was not on good terms with.  When I walked out on wrestling, I had walked out on several friends and relationships in order to get my life in order. 

"Ah, well, we all have ghosts, Kit." Cody said softly and his face gave way to an expression of regret.  There was a heavy silence that fell on the room, and I heard a bang from some pyro for the last match.

"Well, are you going to make it to the point of your visit?" I asked.  Cody seemed to shake it off and slid a hand into his jacket.  Pulling out a thick brown envelope, he said "This is not a contract.  It is an offer of temporary employment to determine if we have a permanent place for you with our family.  Come and work out with us, do some dark matches, make some connections.  Get back into the business and let's see what happens." 

He held this envelope out to me.  My impulse to take it was strong, but my body didn't move.  He smiled and set it down on the bench.

"I am not going to change your name.  I am not going to change who you are.  No one is.  We want Kit Kelly - whoever she is right now, and we hope to be a part of whoever she is in the future.  Where we go from here is up to you.  Read it.  Think on it.  If you sign, I will see you in San Antonio Monday morning.  We have a show coming up and some of us got in early."  He turned and began walking down the hall whistling as he went.

"Jesus." I whispered to myself.