#it would still match the hair colors i picked for the parents...

[janovavalen]

hi, can i request percy x fem!reader or just reader if you don’t write fem.

Basically percy is dating someone from the mortal world and she asks percy to attend these important dates for her because idk she’s in ballet or something and he misses it because he’s always doing quest with annabeth and the reader feels like he’s going to leave her. happy ending pls.

a/n: awhh omg yes ofc 😭!!

✧MISUNDERSTANDING || percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: up above!

word count: 3393 (bruh i was aiming for like 1k not MF 3K WHAT IS THISSS MY THUMB HURTS…and im tired ☹️)

warnings: a bit of hurt reader and percy, miss communication, fluff and comfort in the end

y/n breathed heavily and steadily she made sure her feet were pointed and flexed to perfection. her arms being outstretched perfectly and her fingers pointed towards the walls of the studio her teacher, miss.yana, instructed her to finally move.

‘now! close your feet!—‘y/n did just so. as she held them together, unmoving she breathed steadily through her nose, making sure not to flex her face that would cause the whole class to restart.

she didn’t particularly hate ballet, she loved it beyond measure. she loved it so much—it was her mother’s favorite thing to do when she was young and when she had a small incident that stopped her from doing ballet all together, y/n promised her at the age of nine that she would continue her love for ballet.

and now here she was, four years later still doing ballet with a small collection of good metals at home to make her mother proud.

‘open feet! close, open feet! close!’ the teacher shouted to the class. they all did just as she told with no hesitance and no mistake.

if there were any—from anyone. that person would be the punching bag until next week. luckily y/n has never had to experience that, she made sure she was always perfect for the class, teacher, herself and her mother.

‘rest…good job today class, you are now dismissed. julia! make sure you keep stretching i saw slight hesitation in your leg stretches, if you need it checked out please get that down before next month.’

next month just so happened to be one of their important plays that would be watched by one of the most popular and well paid ballet teachers of all time in new york. she would be watching the class y/n so happens to be in to see who is most fitted for her privet class, and y/n had to make sure she was picked, she had to.

as y/n rested and walked over to her duffle bag that held all of her supplies, her friend maxine walked up to her. she always wore pink leg warmers and her hair in one of the tighter buns y/n had ever seen before.

‘hey y/n! were you able to hang out tonight? me and rebecca were thinking we would do a small movie night at hers? we all get these cute little themed colored snacks and watch like, horror movies or something?’ maxine smiled down at y/n who gave a tight lip apologetic smile.

‘awh i’m sorry…maybe we can reschedule on it? i’m supposed to be meeting percy today’ y/n threw on her sweats and sweatshirt to match. her new shoes being simple brown boots and her hat on to cover her head from the windy weather outside.

maxine smile and awed—‘oh! you guys are so cute together in so jealous, i though you’d said he was studying abroad?’

yeah and by that she means some place far far away were humans can’t even enter.

‘yeah…but he’s visiting today and we were going to see that new movie in theaters’ y/n smiled at maxine who nodded her head with a warm smile.

‘awh! you two have fun okay? text me the details later!’ as she walked away y/n waved her goodbye and made her way to the opposite door. leading her way out of the studio and right into to the sidewalk of new york city.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when y/n got home she made herself known by yelling out to her parents—‘mom, dad! i’m home!’ she yelled. just then she quickly heard footsteps coming from the both of them as they smiled and hugged their daughter.

‘my sweet! how was practice? i’m so happy you got back safe i keep telling you dad here to get you a bike or a car! ah! was that nasty teacher mean to you today? huh?’ her mom rushed to her side as her dad gave her a shocked look at what she said about the car and bike.

‘you didn’t tell me—‘

‘shut up i did!’

‘nuh-uh!’

‘yes! yes (f/n) i told you a hundred times you were just always half asleep when i told you—‘

‘wh! well maybe if i weren’t half asleep i would have know—‘

‘okay guys! it’s okay i’m back! i don’t need a car but i will like a bike? and no she wasn’t mean today, i did pretty good’ y/n praised herself as she set down her bag which was quickly picked up by her dad who went to put it in her room.

‘awh that’s good to here, oh! and what about you and percy? huh? you told me you two were going out tonight is that still on?’

‘yes mom. i’m going to be leaving around five or six and back at nine like always, maybe he’ll stay, maybe he won’t.’ y/n shrugged as she was walked by her mom arm in arm.

‘well, i’ll cut fresh fruit just in case, now i know your tired so go take a nice bath! get ready for your date’ she sang while y/n felt her face warm.

‘mom! don’t say it like that’

‘well! i mean you’ve been together for how long now?’

‘two years—‘

‘two years! and you still get nervous! i still think it’s adorable don’t worry, im sure he does too’ she teased while y/n groaned and made her way to her room.

when she got there she immediately went to rush for her phone and unlocked it. her homescreen being her pet and lock being her and percy at the beach. she loved that picture so much, she’s probably posted it about a hundred times over and over on her photo dumps.

going into her contacts she was quick to text her boyfriend, percy. hoping she wasn’t interrupting him or anything.

‘hey percy! i just got back from practice. everything going well at camp?’ she texted. and almost immediately he responded.

‘hey! yeah, everything is good, i’m getting my things packed for movie night, i should be getting to you pretty soon. miss me?’ he teasingly sent making y/n turn off her phone for a second to smile with her hand over her mouth.

breathing out and unlocking it once more she texted him—‘of course i did, how could i not?’ he hearted her message and replied quickly.

‘well don’t worry i miss you just as much. i’ll see you soon okay?’ she heated his message as well and sent back a meme that he would always send her and closed off her phone.

deciding it was time to get ready she went to collect her bathroom things and started to get ready for her night.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

after about two hours of getting ready, listening to music and texting percy non stop, she finally saw it was time to leave the house. rushing to grab her purse and shoes she used down to the front door and made her goodbyes that consisted of hugs and kisses to and from her parents.

rushing out the front door, she signaled for a taxi which likely saw her and picked her up.

‘were to?’ he asked

‘the movie theater please’

as y/n said that and the taxi driver started to move, she texted percy that she was on his way which she was left with a ‘seen’.

strange…frowning her eyes bowed she kept the message open and waited for his response. he was usually really quick with this, never leaving her on seen nor delivered without a small warning beforehand of course.

‘hm…’ she mumbled.

‘we’re here!’ he told y/n who looked up from her phone in a hurry and looked to the side to see the movie theater.

‘oh, thank you’ paying him plus tip he smiled at her and said his bye which she did the same.

making her way out of the car and into the movies, she paid for the two tickets with the money percy sent her a few days prior, getting popcorn with her own money and some other snacks which was expensive as always.

looking down to see she was left on seen almost ten minutes ago, y/n double texted which she hated.

sending a small pic of the things she bought and the tickets that were next to the popcorn she held them all and walked to the movie room.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

sitting down into her seat she kept her focus on her phone, the big screen and the entrance of the movie room. hoping that one of the blondes that would walk in was her boyfriend who hopefully had a small explanation to leaving her hanging with the texts…twice!

sitting back as the room became dark she decided it was time to call him. he said he was on his way? and she didn’t mean to be obnoxious but she needed to know he was at least okay.

walking out of the room she called him…it rang. and rang…and rang.

then she heard his voice—‘hey!’

‘percy where are you—‘

‘this is percy and you’ve reached my voicemail box. if i didn’t pick up i’m either with my amazing girlfriend, slaying monsters or just sleeping, leave a message.’ scoffing a bit at his voicemail she spoke.

‘percy im at the movies and i just wanted to know if you were okay? or if you're on your way? the movie started and i'm going to be watching this amazing movie without you…call me back, please?’

hanging up and looking down at her phone and time she sighed and closed her eyes, ignoring the slight plained pit in her stomachs and heart she pushed it aside and walked back into the movie room.

sitting down and watching some of the movie she would occasionally look at her phone, the entrance. the screen. her phone, the entrance, the screen.

over, and over. until soon, without realizing it had been the end of the movie.

she still felt herself trapped in the endless loop she created for herself. her phone, the entrance and the screen.

soon enough she realized what she didn’t want to think was true, he wasn’t coming. he wasn’t showing up once again.

this happened five times in the last five months on each date that was planned every five months.

pressing her body against the seat, she sighed and placed her hands on her face. letting out a shaky breath, y/n picked up her things and made her way out of the theater.

walking until the sidewalk of new york, she felt her phone vibrate.

picking it up in a hurry she saw percy’s name flash across the screen—she answered.

‘percy—‘

‘n/n! listen im so so sorry! i—i lost track of time, i was set on a quest the second i was going to leave and i—‘

‘so what? the quests mean more than me? hanging with annabeth—‘

‘y/n please…don’t say that it’s not like that and you know it.’

‘well i sure feels like that percy! you stood me up! you left me alone again just like the picnic, the dinner, the fourth of july, my birthday!? percy…are your trying to tell me something—‘

‘no! y/n! no, it—no! stop what your thinking because it isn’t true okay? please—it isn't like that at all okay? i just….its—‘

‘explain to me percy…i’m listening.’ as y/n stood on the side of the building she felt her eyes well up with a bit of tears as her grip on her phone tightened. her purse being clutched by her side.

‘it’s….’

‘explain to me percy…please.’ she helplessly begged while holding the phone. on the other end, all she heard was a bit of noise and his breathing.

‘i—i can’t.’ he mumbled. scoffing y/n threw her head back slowly while rolling her shoulders. trying not to embarrass herself by crying in the middle of the sidewalk.

‘of course. bye percy.’

‘wait—‘ just as he said this she hung up and placed her phone in her purse. it vibrated, indicating someone was calling, seeing it might be her mom she looked and it was percy.

she didn’t pick up.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when she got home, y/n was met with a silent house. her parents were sleep and she was kind of happy with this. she could walk to her room with no trouble.

once she got their, she immediately broke down, her hands finding ways to her mouth to silence her cries, y/n shook her head a bit and bit her lip.

the pain in her chest grew and grew to which it felt like she couldn’t breath.

was this his way of breaking up with her? was this is plan all along since she and him had to split? this whole time he was in camp…he could’ve been talking to someone else. this whole time.

sighing and crying a bit more she wiped her tears and breathed heavily, a shaky breath as she made her way to her closet and picked her pajamas.

after taking off some of her makeup, and putting her hair in a more comfortable up-do. she placed her phone on the bedside table and turned to the wall, her widow being slightly open to show the moons shine from space.

feeling her body shake a bit from her cries she suddenly heard—tik.

quieting down, y/n stopped and waiting just to hear another—tik, tik—one became two and two became four.

sighing she sat up and looked at her slightly ajar window to see there were small rocks being down at her window.

what kind of drunk is doing this so late at night? and why her window? and why on this day as of right now.

groaning she sat up and grabbed her bat to make sure bod is was handing from her window. stepping slow and close to her window she saw curls then a face—with a black hoodie on. screaming she went to swing her bat but was stopped with—‘oh my god! stop! stop! it’s me!’

stopping her movements…she knew that voice. placing the bat down and aggressively taking off his hoddie she saw it was percy.

‘what—‘

‘i know i know, what are you doing here? why are you here? what do you want you pertinacious douchebag—i know but please? let me explain…please.’ he silently begged her as y/n firmly looked down at him. giving up as she saw his blue eyes, she placed down the bag completely and stepped beside it let him in.

once he was in he turned to her. y/n had her arms crossed and her face flat, filled and prominent with upset, hurt, anger and confusion. the slight previous look of tears in her puffy eyes made his heart sink.

‘oh y/n…i—‘

‘why did you ditch me all those months? huh? i asked you and i will keep asking…if you can’t give a reason at all and it’s related to your demigod duties i will respect that and leave it alone but please just tell me something? anything.’ y/n hopelessly looked up into percy eyes who looked down at eyes and sighed.

placing his hand on her arms that were folded she let then loosen as he pressed his body against her own, embracing her with the warmth of her preciously covered body and his naturally warm one. she melting into his hind immediately and tested up again.

‘is this you breaking up with me? i don’t get it i—‘

‘i was trying to clear up my schedule to make it to your play next month.’ he answered, finally.

pulling away immediately she looked into his sad eyes that watched her own as a small tear dropped.

‘what?’

‘you were telling me for six months now about how important and exited you were for this big play so i worked and worked on many of my quiets that were already ahead of me to make sure none of them interfere with your play. i want to make there so i can see you dance, i know i’ve been really…horrible with being a boyfriend and making it to our dates and im so so sorry, half of it was planned and half of it was pure coincidence on being caught in a quest…’

‘planned?’ she asked, eyes eyebrows turning up and he nodded.

‘yeah planned…i know how serious you and ballet are and i know your always stressed at being this perfect image for the world when in fact your always perfect and there isn’t anything that can’t make you ten times better than you already are. some of the dates i missed were meant to be missed like the picnic, and the ice skating rink and your birthday…i was there, you just couldn’t see me. and now that i think about it sounds creepy and weird—‘

‘yeah it dose’ she laughed as he smiled.

‘but i didn’t show up because i knew you needed the time to freely open up and relax. your picnic was what i made you, the food and stuff i made myself that’s why—‘

‘that’s why some of the things were blue…’ she recalled.

‘mhm…and your birthday?’

‘a ocean view with blue ribbons around the napkins and flowers…but why didn’t you tell me?’ she looked up in wonder.

‘it would ruin your surprise’ she shrugged while she tilted her head in a bit of confusion.

‘my surprise?’

picking up the bag that was set next to him that she failed to notice he handed it to her and she grinned up at him, a bit nervous he watched her open the blue bag. seeing another box, she opened it.

inside were his and her favorite blue colored ballet shoes. y/n smiled and picked them up immediately, placing the box and bag on her table, she looked at them and saw a small note inside.

in it was what said—

from here on out from all of my accomplished quested i have even granted a two year stay in new york with you, and for these two years i will stay by your side non stop to make up for my missed dates, and missed hugs and talks. your favorite — percy jackson.

looking up at him with teary eyes, she launched herself at him with her arms around his neck, y/n felt percy rub her back soothingly and she immediately spoke.

‘oh my god i’m so sorry! i was so mean to you over the phone and i almost hit you with a bat! and i wa thinking of doing it anyway seeing who you were oh my—im so sorry percy oh my gosh’ she squeezed him even tighter as percy laughed a bit and held her closer.

‘it’s okay! it’s okay! i would to the same, i hoped you did so you would forgive me then baby me back to health’ he revealed making y/n pull away and push him with a scoff.

he smiled at her and pulled her in by her hand, one of his other hands making their way to hold her face soothingly and pulling her in for a sweet kiss. he was always one for words and actions. smiling and melting into it y/n kissed back all until—

‘who’s in here! my baby—what!’ the two of them turned to see y/n’s mother and father holding bats only to immediately relax.

‘percy!’

‘hi mrs.l/n…hi mr.l/n’ he shamefully waved at the two who rolled their eyes and let out a relieved sigh.

‘my god—percy please. next time use the front door’ he dad groaned as he went to walk away and back to bed only to feel his wife want aorund. turning to see her staring at the two with an adored face painted on her she awed.

‘my babies! look at you—‘ just then she was picked up and taken out of the room by y/n’s dad—her husband—‘wait! i was just checking on them!’

‘they’re fine’ he replied.

y/n smiled and covered her face with embarrassment as percy looked down at her and smiled as well, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her face he kissed her once more.

[storiesforthemoonchild]

Christmas Morning | Alexia Putellas x Reader

short little something I thought of because the little boy next door woke me up on Christmas Morning yelling 'Santa came' to his parents 😂

a pt. II to Big Brother

“Mamá,” you smile when you hear Nico’s excited voice from his room. 

“Por favor make him go back to sleep amor,” Alexia whines. The hand she has resting on your stomach beginning to rub gently. 

You felt a bit bad, Alexia had taken on most of the stress of the holidays with you being due for the second baby any day now. You went to bed earlier on her while wrapping presents last night,  and didn’t feel her slide in beside you until just a few hours ago, “I’m sorry love.”

Alexia lifts her head to check the time, 7am, “no, no, no please one more hour bebé.”

“You probably have one more minute,” you run your fingers through her hair to comfort her. “He will crash after the excitement and breakfast. Then we can have some cuddles before we leave.”

“Fine, how’s my princesa?” Alexia gives up on sleep, and goes through her usual morning routine of kissing your belly and talking to the baby.

“Ready to come any minute,” you tell her as your bedroom door creaks open and a tiny head pops through. 

“SANTA CAME,” Nico shouts when he sees you sitting up in bed. Alexia groans into your belly before lifting her head with the biggest smile at your son. Motherhood looked amazing on her. She would groan at the lack of sleep or privacy you two got these days, but you knew it wasn’t real. She was the first to hop up and shoo away monsters, or play football in the backyard. 

“SANTA? Did he bring me lots of toys?” Alexia matches the 4-year-olds excitement as she lifts him into bed. 

Nico nods vigorously, as he bounces between the two of you. He kisses your belly gently just like Ale does every morning, “Buenos días princesa,” he whispers, making you shoot Alexia a look. You still didn’t know the gender of the baby, but Alexia was adamant and had got your son on board with the fact it was a girl. You gave up fighting the two on it. “Can we go see?”

Both sets of eyes looking towards you for permission, “Sí my loves. Let's go see what Santa brought.”

Alexia, just as excited to see the joy on his face, nearly races out the room right behind him before seemingly remembering you were very pregnant. She comes to the side of the bed helping to guide you to the living room where an excited Nico is. “Alexia LOOK!” The boy jumping in excitement at all the new football items that were scattered about. 

You settle into the cozy living room decorated in festive colors. The morning sun is just barely peeking through the blinds, as the tree stands bright in the corner of the room. Nothing compared to Christmas as a mother, the laughter and pure joy on his face as he rips through each gift brought you indescribable happiness. 

He holds up each toy to showcase it to the two of you as Alexia tries to keep the clean up to a minimum and throws trash away as he goes. “Oh that one is from Tía Ingrid and María,” you say as he picks up the box wrapped in a different paper than the others.

Alexia glances your way at the statement before watching as he rips through the wrapping. Nico jumps to his feet when he sees the contents, “NO! He will NOT be wearing that,” Alexia states firmly at the Barcelona jersey with 23 Engen, on the back. 

“Ale stop,” you laugh as he rips his Christmas themed football pajama top off and throws the jersey on. “You look so handsome, bebé, come let me take a picture for Ingrid.” 

Alexia groans as Nico makes his way over, a bright smile and blushed cheeks, “Nico,” she says firmly like he is in trouble. 

“Alexia stop,” you give right back to her.

“Who is your favorite Barcelona player?” She waves you off as she wraps him in a hug, kissing his face.

“Alexia!” He shouts with pride, laughter filling the room as she begins to tickle him. 

“Bueno amor. You are a Putellas, that’s the only name you should wear on your back, sí?” 

Nico wiggles free from her grip, nodding in response before busying himself with opening the last few presents. “You are ridiculous,” you laugh at the midfielder.

Alexia rolls her eyes as she lays her head in your lap, “why would they get him that? I’m serious he will not be wearing that outside of this house.”

“Okay crybaby,” you attempt to lean down to kiss her only to be blocked by your stomach. Alexia laughed before reaching up to connect your lips. “Did Santa bring you everything you wanted, baby boy?” 

Nico’s smile fades as he comes and leans into your side, shrugging, “yeah I guess.”

You and Alexia share a glance, wondering what you could’ve possibly forgotten. If anything you had gone overboard thanks to Alexia, “what did he forget?” You can see the disappointment on Alexia’s face, she hated letting him down in any way.

“I- I asked him to make me a big brother for Christmas. I want to meet princesa, so we can play football,” he pouts, looking identical to Alexia at that moment. 

You both relax at his words, a smile gracing your faces at his excitement for the baby. “Some presents Santa has no control over bebé. Princesa will come when she’s ready,” Ale runs a hand through his short curls.

“The baby,” you emphasize, “will be here very very soon. You are already the best big brother in the world. We just have to keep talking to the baby, so they know we are ready to meet.”

“Okay,” Nico says, easily satisfied with the explanation as he goes back to all the toys in front of him. 

You would always cherish these moments of pure joy with both of your loves. Your heart was full and you couldn’t wait to expand that with the new addition. 

[snghnlvr]

6:28 pm. / yang jungwon

yang jungwon x fem!reader

synopsis: jungwon can’t stop kissing you!

includes: 1.5k words | FLUFFY FLUFF | jungwon is a simp | so is the reader so who’s at fault? | tooth rotting scenario that makes me cry about my single life | lots of kissing but i hope you can tell lol | jungwon in a tuxedo? plz sign me up!!

extra: this was supposed to be a short drabble but i think i got carried away .. | jungwon is bias wrecking me help me | i can imagine jungwon doing this to his partner and it dreads me | thank you taylor swift for motivating me to do this instead of my homework rn <3 | someone pls agree that jungwon is taylor swift coded - he’s written by a woman!!!

likes, comments and reposts are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

i want to wear his initials on a chain ‘round my neck not because he owns me cuz he really knows me, which is more than they can say.

“jungwon!” you called out to him, holding a necklace that had his initials in it.

after jungwon fixed his tie, his figure approached to you immediately when you called out to him.

you’ve been trying to put your favorite necklace for the past five minutes and you realized it’s been almost time for prom in your high school.so you were rushing.

jungwon actually decided to match with you, sending you pinterest inspo when texting you, “us?🥰”. he never failed to make you blush in public. you had to immediately hide your phone from your teacher, putting your hand on your mouth to prevent a smile from being noticed.

jungwon picked a dark, emerald green dress on you since green is his favorite color on you, especially his green sweater. you chose a regular suit on him, but his tie would have the same emerald color. he thought it was the best choice, yet you were happy with the results.

when jungwon picked you up from your house with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, you were in awe. he looked really good in a tuxedo that you can’t believe that he’s your boyfriend.

you’re were so mesmerized.

he looked godly charismatic because it emphasized his body well, his golden skin radiating under your door light and his perfect middle part presented to you. you can still see his natural curly hair at the ends but it made you fall in love. jungwon looked so mature that you wonder if this is how he will look like in a couple of years.

after staring at jungwon, you felt your legs getting jelly.

you were starstruck at his appreciation that you felt like crying but before you do so, you hugged him tightly with your arms around his neck.

you heard jungwon chuckling, imagining his whisker dimples appearing as he stumbled at your sudden action. his hands immediately flew to your waist incase you would trip.

when jungwon arrived to your house, he was really nervous. he thought he will be a stuttering mess when he sees you, imagining your beauty in front of him, him only. his heart was beating so fast, that he thought he will get a heart attack. he took a deep breath and rubbed his chest to ease his anxiety. you opened the door and he felt like a mess. you were shining - glowing - twinkling like a jewel.

you greeted him with a smile as usual and he almost fell down like those cartoons when the male lead faints, but thank the heavens you grabbed him before he could do so.

your parents behind you captured the moment with their phones behind the wall of the door entrance. jungwon waved to your parents, shooting them a small smile as they gladly did the same. their hearts were warmed at the sight they were witnessing.

jungwon pressed his head to the crook of your neck, taking a whiff of your body wash; a combination of cherry blossoms and blueberries. he closed his eyes for a moment before pecking your neck. it slightly tickled you.

he removed himself, still holding you by the waist. he looked down at you with a smile, “hi my pretty girlfriend.” his dimple couldn’t help themselves from showing.

you couldn’t stop smiling at his cuteness. “hi my boyfriend.” you replied back with a cheeky grin. jungwon thought you were too gorgeous. he leaned down to steal a peck, maybe three pecks. making you frozen and hoping that your parents didn’t witness that.

now here you are in the hallways, where both of you didn’t show yourself in front of others yet. you can hear the faded music but you weren’t close to the entrance where people could easily spot you; more like both of you were at the exit.

you stood in front of a circular mirror. you wanted to present yourself, jungwon didn’t mind how long you were gonna take. as long as he’s with you, he couldn’t ask for more.

your frustration didn’t help you in putting on your necklace and you felt getting sweaty from the stress, so you called your lovely boyfriend who has been inspecting the decorations all over the halls with his hands in his pockets and his boba-like eyes wandering around. you find the situation very adorable.

jungwon noticed it what you were asking for even if you verbally didn’t say it. he took your necklace, realizing that it had his initials and he smirked at your wise choice.

you looked in the mirror, seeing your boyfriend easily towering behind you and it made your heart shake. you moved your hair to one side so he can easily put it on.

jungwon slowly opened the chain as you eye his every action. you kept getting distracted by him that it was making you insane.

jungwon took a step closer to you, putting the necklace in front of you. you held your breath when the gold touched your skin.

jungwon was so attentive in making sure that the adjustment was making you comfortable. “is that alright?” he suddenly whispered, making your neck get goosebumps not from his breath but his deep voice.

you nodded and whispered, “yeah that’s fine.” you smiled at him. he couldn’t see you across the mirror but he felt it in your tone.

“done.” jungwon smiled proudly with his dimples. you exhaled as you were touching his initials on your neck, proudly displaying.

jungwon swore that you looked extra attractive.

“you’re so beautiful y/n.” jungwon suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly as he kept his head in your neck just like earlier. it felt perfect like a puzzle piece.

you chuckled at his sudden touchiness. “and you are handsome too, jungwon.” you put your hands on where his hands were on your waist, slowly rocking side to side.

“jungwon that tickles!” you pulled away slightly when you felt his kisses on the side of your neck. jungwon pouted when you pulled away.

“awe i can’t kiss my princess anymore?” you rolled your eyes at his childness. “you know what i meant.” you eyed him at the mirror.

jungwon shook his head, making his hair do a little bounce. he pulled you back in which you easily obliged. he continued planting little pecks, sometimes longer on your neck. your stomach was tingling at his lips touching your skin and the noises made your heart flutter.

you love his kisses.

you looked at the mirror at what was happening. you bit your lip at the attractive scene like it’s a manhwa. your breath was getting heavier each second has passed.

“alright you’re having too much fun now.” you removed his hands from your waist and turned around, your back pressed against your mirror. you fiddled with jungwon’s fingers.

you were about to say something, along the lines of, “let’s go” but jungwon kept staring at you with an affectionate face with his head tilted to the side, not caring about what you were saying. he was gonna to continue.

his lips were pressed into yours once again, making your legs feel like jelly. jungwon held your waist to keep you still as your arms slowly made way towards his neck to make the kiss deeper.

kissing before prom wasn’t apart of your bucket list but you didn’t mind it.

jungwon let go, leaning his forehead against you as he stared at you.

you giggled at his lips, it’s now stained in your lipstick. “now your lips are stained.” you tried wiping your lipstick from his lips with your fingers but jungwon didn’t care. he didn’t care how filthy or disgusting comments he would get from getting lipstick stains from you. as long as it was from you, he couldn’t careless. maybe that’s why you love your boyfriend a little too much heh

“you’re so touchy today, i wonder why..” you asked, eyes focused on his lips. you were making sure the lipstick was fully removed but you can’t tell if that’s his natural lip color; being swollen from your kiss or your lipstick.

jungwon tapped his fingers on your hips, slightly gripping them. “because i have the most beautiful girl in front of me.” he smile with a smug that made you laugh lightly. “mhm couldn’t help myself.” he looked proud acting like a prince.

“stop it jungwon, you gonna make me a mess before we take a step inside.” you jokingly pressed your hands against your cheeks, lightly tapping them to indicate your blushing.

jungwon smiled, staring at you with shining eyes as he grabbed your hand from your cheek, intertwining with his and pressed them against his cheek.

your lips were slightly open as it caught you off guard but you smiled from ear to ear when he pecked your hand, staring at you. his eyes were smiling.

“i love you y/n.” jungwon whispered against your lips. “i love you too.” you didn’t hesitant to reply, pecking him one more time before finally fixing yourselves to go inside of your school’s auditorium.

“hey what took so long!?” your classmate heeseung noticed the both of you at the entrance, his voice slightly irritated because both of you said 7:00pm. it was currently 7:30pm.

both of you blushed and looked away.

[milliesdiary]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐒

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you’re a general's pants-wearing daughter: a skilled fighter, headstrong, and teased by others for not being feminine. during a sparring session with your friend, aemond, you two make a bet: if you win, he has to show you his eye. if he wins, you have to wear a dress — and kiss him.

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; aemond being aemond, confessions, just some good old sweetness ✨

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you so much to the amazing person who asked for this :”) i hope i could do it justice! to be as inclusive as possible, i do not mention the reader’s father’s descent. i also do not specify her skin tone, body type, eye/hair color, or hair texture ♡ 

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄.

Not like any other woman, at least. You’re strong-willed. Unshakeable. Not as naïve. 

As a child, you made mud pies, climbed trees, and kicked boys who made fun of you for acting unladylike. You would return to your parents with grime under your nails, grass stains on your pants, and a twinkle in your eyes. Blood never bothered you; you could get slashed open, bruised, and filthy, yet still make it home. 

Maybe it was because of your father — a stubborn general hardened by war, with a sharp way of speaking and a stern sentiment. He taught you the way of the sword at the age of 9, and instilled you with a sense of discipline. Not once did he try to force you into the stereotypes of being a woman; the fancy clothes, the manners, the expectation to give birth at any chance possible. 

That’s just not you. 

You're not the kind of girl who crumbles beneath the weight of insults, who loses her mind, who cries. You give the same treatment to those who hurt you. You are Bloody Mary, the venomous spider, the wicked snake. You are a creature that can wander through flames without getting burned.

So no, you are not like the other women.

And the townsfolk are always willing to remind you.

The second you step onto the training grounds, all eyes are on you, and there’s an intense discomfort at how they look you up and down.

They are taking in your appearance; your black flowy cape, leather pants, and the tunic cinched at your waist to match. It’s not the style they are used to seeing, comprised of silk dresses and chiffon gowns. 

People gossip about how you could steal the hearts of every man in Westeros if you just put on a skirt — if you sat with your legs crossed, prim and proper. If you smiled more often. 

“Such a waste of a pretty girl,” they whisper.

How stupid.

You shrug away their stares and try to focus on something else.

It’s a beautiful day, perfect for sparring; the November sunlight veils the world in a golden shawl, and the cool air is sweet as a mandarin. The temperature has risen enough so that you can train without getting numb or going home with an earache from the wind.

You’re more than ready for a fight, to get your hands soiled and feel sweat bead down your face. 

Walking over to a table where swords and blades of all kinds are spread along the surface, you feel that familiar rush of excitement. You’re about to grab a dagger until you hear someone call your name. 

It’s Ser Criston. He walks over, armor clicking with every stride and gleaming in the autumn sun, only to stop beside you. “I was waiting for when I would see you again. Have you come to train?” 

“Of course,” you say simply. “Did you expect any less?”

“Maybe not,” the knight replies, an accepting expression on his face. He knows that you enjoy playing dirty. 

Luckily, you and Ser Cristin get along. He is outside a lot of the time helping to train the others, so it was not unusual that you both talked from time to time. You aren’t sure if he is bothered by your lack of femininity, but he never mentions it, so you do not mind him.

You focus your attention back to the blades, picking up a particularly sharp sword. You weigh it in your hands; the grey metal is dense and heavy, brand new. Your reflection stares back at you in the steel. Ser Criston catches your hum of satisfaction. 

“That sword was gilded just days ago. A work of art,” He nods.

“Indeed it is,” you agree. Then you smile knowingly at him. “Is there anyone I can spar with?”

Ser Criston responds with a curt nod. Admiration dances in his brown eyes; he’s definitely not like the others. “Plenty.” 

Eager, you follow Ser Criston to the patch of land reserved for sword fighting. People are gathered in a circle around two men who are already sparring; the crowd cheers, made up of men who are desperate to make a good impression and women who have come to watch.

You glance at the pair of individuals who are currently engaged in a duel, following their sharp steps as they parry each other’s hits. You remain near the back of the crowd, bringing the tip of your sword to the ground and resting both hands on the hilt. 

You’re trying to act casual — but you’re actually itching for your turn. Impatient.

The fight turns out to be pretty boring. You’re able to guess every move before it’s done and correct every miscalculated block inside your head. It might be unfair to judge them so harshly; you’re a skilled fighter and have trained for years. The advantage is yours. 

But you also can’t bring yourself to care. These are the same men who boast about their power despite being weak.

You’re genuinely relieved when one of the men knocks the other down, leveling their sword at their opponent’s face. The people around you clap for awhile, and then the crowd slowly breaks apart as some leave to continue their duties. 

It’s fine; you don’t need the validation of a crowd during a match.

“Alright,” you say gruffly, ripping your sword from the dirt and skirting through the gaps of people, stepping onto the sandy soil of the sparring area. You turn to face a few of the trainees’ expectant faces. They are waiting for you to choose someone, though all of them seem pathetic. Might as well get it over with.

“Would you like to duel?” You finally ask a man toward the front.

For a second, he remains still. And then he smiles; fucking smirks like he’s a serpent and you’re a lamb ensnared between its teeth. He thinks you’re an easy opponent, all because you’re a woman. 

Beating him is going to feel good, you think. Beating all of them.

Balancing the sword in a hand, you spit into the dirt just to spite him — which is successful in making multiple people cringe. Good. You have to bite back a smile and prepare yourself for your opponent’s first strike. 

And you were right, of course.

They’re all useless, each more powerless than the last. There’s no challenge, no threat. Not even child’s play with any of them. You have more than half of your competitors on their asses before they even get an opportunity to attack, making every clang of your sword against another seem meaningless.

You ought to take pride in it, thinking back to their breathy chuckles as they whispered about how deluded you were. How unwomanly.

But you don’t. You don't feel prideful, self satisfied, or any emotion of fulfillment. It’s too easy. 

The blows from your adversary are repetitive, almost as if he is rehearsing a list of strategies. The movements are easy to predict, giving you the upper hand. It’s not difficult to knock him on the ground, sweeping his legs out from beneath him with a blow that you wish he would have jumped over.

There is someone who definitely would have dodged it, though.

The enigma, the cunning raven, the Prince — Aemond Targaryen. The one man who doesn’t judge you or stare condescendingly. The only person who you consider an equal, an acquaintance. 

Aemond is a man of honor. His eye is the shade of lavender, and every syllable that falls from his tongue is sliced apart by the sharp quirk of his lips. High cheekbones, fair skin, an eyepatch making a home over a scar that sits where his eyelid once was. 

A dark serpent. 

Just as you struggle with your identity, he does, too. You are aware of Aemond’s lack of restraint, lack of faith, lack of fear, and his internal conflict. You know why the man is the way he is.

Aemond had told you what happened once, after you had finished having a nice conversation with his nephews. It’s tragic: when a person doesn't feel valued as a member of a family, they develop a sort of outcast mentality. Childhood experiences of neglect paves the way for lifelong isolation, and as a result, Aemond withdrew. He started spending time alone.

But out of every person in the world, he chose to keep a spot open for you. It’s an honor, really.

The man you are sparring with gives in, standing to his feet with a grunt of humiliation and shooting you a glare. You return it with one of your own, ready to pick another opponent, and then—

“You have been busy, I see,” A familiar voice says.

You turn toward the sound of it, the lull and the accent — only to be met with Aemond standing in the front of the crowd. You size him up, sword dangling at your side. 

Aemond’s arms are crossed behind his back in a casual fashion, head held high with interest. His white hair is in a half-up half-down style, the ends flowing over his broad shoulders like a silk scarf.

“My Prince.” There’s no stopping the grin that blooms on your lips. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you always find excitement in his presence. “Dare I ask how long you have been watching?” 

“Long enough.” Aemond is silent as he scans you up and down; there’s not a single streak of dirt on you, nor a single cut. He takes notice. “Pray tell: how many men have you made fools of?” 

“I don’t know,” you dramatically sigh, acting indifferent. You retreat from the center of the sparring ground to stand in front of him. “I have not had the luxury to count. I was too busy winning.”

Aemond exhales a sharp breath from his nose — his way of conveying amusement — and slightly tilts his head. “It seems that they have not prepared themselves for a woman of your caliber.” 

It’s a compliment; a bit cheeky, yes, but a compliment nonetheless. It has you rocking back and forth on your heels in anticipation. “A woman of my caliber? I must say, My Prince, I am flattered.” 

“I would not say it unless it were true.” 

“Well, if it is of any comfort, you are not like any man I have ever known," you jibe. "You're like a character in a folktale. Someone from a history book.”  

"The prince, I presume." 

"No, you're the dragon. A magnificently evil dragon." Your tone becomes teasing. “How could anyone lead a regular life with a beast like you?”

“I should inquire the same, My Lady.”

“You just don’t understand a woman that dares to be different, that’s all.”

Aemond lets out a simple ‘hmm’ at that. You slap him in the arm playfully and he doesn’t flinch. He only graces you with the tiniest smirk.

The prince does not enjoy being touched, though the aversion seems to disappear when it comes to you. He can tell; he knows by how he does not scowl at the idea of your hand on his shoulder, or cringe at the feeling of your arm brushing against his. You do not give off negative energy. 

Perhaps this is why you have remained in contact with each other; you don’t judge one another for the things you are and for the things you can’t be. Somewhere, deep down, you both think the same thing: take me as I am, or watch my back as I go.

You know of Aemond’s true nature, and he realizes yours.

Much like him, you cannot be picked and thrown away like a flower or an old manuscript. You are a hurricane: ferocious, unflinching, and authentic. A dagger that will slice through the flesh of anyone who dares to cross you.

Though he will not publicly admit it, your spunkiness delights him.

“Come then,” Aemond says. 

You’re confused at his words — unsure of what he’s talking about — before he saunters to the center of the sparring circle. He brandishes his sword from a holster wrapped around his hip, the metal screeching into the air. “We have yet to train together. Demonstrate your skills to me.” 

It’s true. In the years you’ve known him, you have never once challenged each other. You know what Aemond is capable of though, so it’s intimidating. It’s probably the main reason you have never asked to spar. 

Maybe it’s time to change that; you’re not about to back down from a fight. It would hurt your pride too much. 

“Fine,” you agree, slinking forward to stand before him in the training area.

There’s so much you want to know about Aemond, you notice. So much that you’d like to learn. Your gaze is focused on his face, and his eye, and then that eyepatch — and you realize that he has never showed you what’s underneath the leather.

You’ve heard the rumors: how the socket has been replaced by a sapphire, a deep, saturated blue that reflects the light at every angle. You wish so badly to see it. For him to trust you with the imperfect parts of him. 

It gives you an idea.

“I will spar with you,” you begin, maintaining a serious tone in your voice. “But only if we make a bet.” 

The look on Aemond's face changes from being neutral to intrigued. He slices the earth open by shoving his sword into the soil. “And what would that be, My Lady?”

“If I win,” you quip, “you must show me your eye.”

The silence is deafening.

Aemond frowns then. You’re scared for a second; scared that you went too far and bit off more than you could chew.

Looking back on the past can be very frustrating. You have to let it go, you want to tell his younger self, clapping him on the back. If you did that, he might get angry. Or maybe cry. Maybe you would, too. 

You open your mouth to revoke the words, yet close it just as quick, unable to get a single syllable out. 

But then he speaks.

“Then it shall be,” Aemond says firmly. He leans his weight on his sword, crossing one ankle over the other. You aren’t sure if he actually doesn’t care or if he’s just hiding his anger. He’s always been an expert at keeping his emotions at bay. “If that is what you wish.” 

Relief is a godsend in that moment. You fix your surprised expression into one that is more calm. “…And if you win?”

Aemond seems to think it over.

Finally, he decides on something; with the mischief that glints in that one eye, you know it’s going to be less than satisfactory. “I propose you wear a dress for an entire day.”  

“What? There’s no way—“

“And kiss me.”

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

Is this how he plans on winning? By threatening you with something so strange in the hopes that you will give up before you started? Like hell you’re going to kiss him. Fuck that. “You cannot be serious.”

“But I am,” he says coolly. Taunting. 

In that moment, you consider your options. One, you could retreat. Two, you could fight him and win, effectively seeing the thing he hides most. Third, you could lose, and have to wear a dress, and…

The thought has you reeling. But, at the same time, you do not want to run away from a challenge. You never have. And never, ever will. 

You’ll just have to win.

“It is settled then,” you nod, trying to remain composed. Your voice wavers a bit; if Aemond notices, he does not comment on it.

Aemond’s mouth creeps into the slightest smile. He tears his sword from the earth and spins it in the air with a flick of his wrist. “Whenever you are ready, then,” he deadpans.

“I have been ready,” you tease, stepping sideways as you both begin to circle each other. Your footsteps are light and airy in a silent prowl, a show of the expertise your father passed to you. “Are you?”��

“The first to hold the other at sword-point wins,” Aemond states, ignoring your question. There’s a sharpness to his words as he tries to draw a reaction from you. Provoke you. “I hope you do not hold back.”

“You must think lowly of me, My Prince,” You retort. “I would never do such a thing. Are you worried that I am going to beat you at your own game?”

Aemond licks his lips, fixing you with a predatory stare; it looks as if he wants to use his canines to rip apart the air, the world, your body that stands before him.

It urges you into action.

You lunge with your sword, but Aemond knocks it to the side with ease, spinning his own in a hand and making a swipe at you.

You don’t hesitate to deflect it — once, twice, three times — before parrying another of his blows. You manage to hit Aemond’s sword particularly hard the fourth time, and you catch a glint of surprise in his eye.

You take a quick step back, before confidently transferring your blade from one hand to the other without breaking eye contact. Your head is buzzing with exhilaration.

“Did you think it would be that simple?” You grin arrogantly. “As a man who studies the way of the sword, I thought you would be more of a challenge.”

To your chagrin, Aemond doesn’t gift you with a reaction. His profile remains composed, although there is a fire in his eye; he has finally found someone who tests him. 

You are about to say something else before he lunges for you.

Aemond is fast and skilled, the swiftness of his steps impressive, with a strength in his arms that could send you to the ground if you gave him an opening. With every clash of your swords, you know he’s evaluating your endurance, your attacks, the likelihood of you slashing him with your blade.

However, Aemond is not attempting to boast his power; not like the other trainees who argue like idiots about whose sword is the sharpest or who has the best balance. That’s what you like about him.

Aemond’s jaw is set and confidence keeps his chin held high, even as you deliver another strike to his blade. Your attention is drawn to the way his knuckles are white from the grip on his sword; veins protrude from the pretty skin of his hands, emphasizing the slender length of his fingers.

Focus.

Strike. Block. Dodge. Slash again. You score another hit, but Aemond follows it immediately with a jab at your chest, which has you losing your balance. You respond with a stab at his side, though he dodges it. 

This dance of blades feels like it lasts forever; if it were anyone else, you probably would have won by now. Every second feels like a minute, each one longer than the last. 

Just before a leap, Aemond tightens his grip on the weapon’s hilt. Before you can react and fix your stance, the sword swings towards your feet, his speed and skill working together to knock you off-balance. You land on your back in the dirt, your blade flying somewhere.

You’re fast, yes. But he is faster.

Quickly you try lift yourself up and grapple for it, but suddenly Aemond pushes you back down. He straddles you, careful not to place his entire weight on your body, and then the pointed edge of his blade is at your throat.

You’ve lost.

Aemond lets out a breathy pant, a wicked grin on his lips — it sends a chill branching down your spine, all the way to your feet. Spite coils in your chest, your nerves trembling with adrenaline, and you see the thrill of the fight reflected in Aemond’s eye.

You are both the same in that way.

“You do put up quite a fight,” Aemond jests, his tone low and deep. You let both arms lay flat across the ground, every breath labored as your heart punches the inside of your ribcage. “Though I am afraid it was not enough.”

You've never experienced energy like this before. You’re trapped underneath him which is exciting in a strange way. You respond with sarcasm in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“You offer to spar with a woman only to fling her into the dirt,” you pant. “How polite of you.”

“And you spar with a dragon.” Up close, Aemond’s iris is a startling violet, and the pupil reflects streaks of shadow and light. He’s agonizingly gorgeous. It makes you feel warm. “Is that not what you called me?”

“You are a man of the most preposterous kind.”

“And yet you still wallow in my company.”

There’s nothing you can really say about that. In a final act of defiance, you stare him down as long as possible; in this small way, you feel undefeated. “You can release me now.”

Aemond hums in acknowledgment, letting his sword hang at his side and slowly standing. In a rare act, the prince offers a hand for you to take, but you slap it away. He is entertained by your glare. “You never fail to reject kindness when it is given.”

“Kindness does not serve me.”

Aemond is amused at your annoyance. He spins his sword between his fingers before sheathing it back into its holster, and you pick up your sword to pass it to an observing knight. When you turn back around, Aemond is staring at you. “What?”

“You owe me a debt.”

There was the bet; you’d almost forgot. Gods, you were going to have to wear a dress for a day, and — and…  

“Regretting your choices now?” The taught line of Aemond’s mouth evolves into a smile, coy and demure.

“No — no, of course not,” you snap. The words don’t come out as calm as you need them to, and it’s all because of him; he has a way of being frustrating. Always doing something to make you tighten your fists. But as much as you would like to blame him, it was your idea. You reap what you sow. “I never break a promise.”

“Good,” comes Aemond’s response. You both stare at each other for a bit, and then you realize: he’s waiting for you to kiss him. For real. Right here, right now.

“What is wrong, little bird?” He teases. “Do not fly away from me now.”

“I—“ you start, unsure of what to do. A split-second decision is made. “I am not doing this here.” 

Before Aemond can say anything, you are grabbing him by the arm and tugging him along. You pull him past clusters of townsfolk, ignoring their curious stares and keeping your gaze forward. He does not resist you.

After peering around an empty alley and inspecting it for any stragglers, you drag him into the stony darkness and nearly slam him against the wall. It’s not on purpose; you’re just reacting to the aftershocks of adrenaline. 

You need to be alone to do something like this. 

You’re so close to Aemond now that you’re breathing the same air as him, nearly pressed against his chest. You can smell his jasmine shampoo, can feel the warmth radiating from his body. You try to slow your breathing: in and out, to clear your head and push every doubt away.

When you find the courage to look straight at Aemond, you find that he’s already gazing at you. 

The light is dim, though you can still make out his profile. You expect his violet eye to be full of mirth, akin to a wild animal staring back at its prey — but what Aemond offers you is righteous and noble. It causes you to prickle with eagerness and anxiety. 

“Do not look at me like that,” you mumble.

“In what way?”

“That way.” You don’t even know what you’re referring to. You just want him to stop staring; it’s burning you up from the inside. “You always act like this when you feel like you have won.”

Aemond’s smirk grows before your eyes. His gaze flickers to the sliver of space between you, and then back to your face. “Sometimes I feel that you know me better than I know myself.” 

You would let out a sneer if you weren’t so terrified; you need to uphold your side of the bet. You know it. And you definitely don’t want to give him the chance to tease you for your hesitation. 

“Maybe I do,” you breathe. Then, grappling with every single piece of boldness you can find, you press your lips upon Aemond’s. 

The kiss is resolute — there’s no way you were going to half-ass it — and you fall into him roughly, slamming each emotion you feel onto his mouth. He tenses a little, but then his hands rise to your arms, thumbs pressing into the sleeves of your tunic.

And then it’s over. 

You break away from Aemond, almost shocked at yourself. Did that really just happen? Your blood pressure is through the roof, pulse thumping like a war drum.

You stare at him, and he stares right on back, both of you saying nothing. You can't look away, as frightened as you are. His expression is soft. So soft that it scares you, yet his eye darkens with interest.

You try to make a joke out of it, to rid yourself of this awkward feeling.

“With the way you are looking at me, My Prince, I would assume you actually like me,” you jest. It doesn’t work. Your brain is mush and the words are flimsy. Gods, you feel overheated. 

Aemond only blinks, those silver lashes fluttering against his cheeks. It seems like he has come to a realization, and you don’t know what that is. He’s testing the waters; waiting to see if you will run away.

“And what then, My Lady?” he finally replies.

Your body gets hotter in an instant. The implications behind his words are enthralling, holding you in a death grip and making it impossible to speak. You’re searching for something to say, anything, but come up empty handed. Part of you is glad when he fills the silence. 

“I must admit,” Aemond says slowly. “There is a certain quality to you. You seem unbreakable.” 

“You know that’s not true,” you whisper.

“Perhaps,” he says. “Though there are times where I am not so certain.”

“Aemond…” 

“Tell me: what do you think of me?” Aemond suddenly asks. It’s not commanding, not a demand. It just feels…personal. You’re not sure how else to describe it, the sound of him speaking so softly. Your ears are accustomed to your father's stern instructions and peoples’ jeers of your boyish antics. His tone sultry, he asks, “Do I make you nervous?” 

“No—you don’t make me nervous,” you stutter. It’s hard to look him in the eye as the lie comes from your lips. “I do not really think of you much, honestly.”

“Hm.” Whether or not Aemond knows you’re lying, you have no idea. “You would be astonished then if you knew the ways I have thought about you.” 

“What do you mean?”

Aemond takes in your expression, gaze flitting down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes. “Would you like to know?”

“Yes,” you say automatically. You’re not sure why you’re hoping for something more — something other than just empty insults and jests. Almost as if he knows what you’re thinking, Aemond leans in. His lips brush against your ear as he speaks.

“You are alluring when you ache for chaos. The flesh of your opponents are beneath your nails and their blood stains your teeth, and I can see you are a woman on fire.” His voice just above a whisper, breath hot against your cheek. “We are both made of flame. You have stolen my attention, my love.”

My love. He has never called you that before.

And it’s in this very second that you have an epiphany. How could you not have noticed it earlier? Felt it? How did you ignore the passion whenever this man talked, the warmth he conjured within you, how grateful you were that he treated you differently than others? 

Aemond has feelings for you. And judging by how you are instantly filled with a massive amount of satisfaction, happiness, and excitement, you hold affections for him too.

But what is love, anyway? It must be the imprints someone creates inside of you—bruises, scars, gashes. Maybe he had maimed you in the same way, except you turned a blind eye to it. Truthfully, you never even thought you would experience something like this. 

After all, love makes humans do terrible things, and you do not consider yourself to be that bloodthirsty. So much of it is violent; there’s the desire to be split apart, defiled, twisted, and reinvented by another person. 

You have seen lovers approach one another in a wolflike manner, ravenous and feral for their attention. People who challenge their love get dragged in between them and flayed open without mercy. It’s terrifying, though it’s not watching the wolves tear others apart that scares you. 

It’s knowing that you would do that for him.

Aemond boldly stares you down. “You are unaware to the extent I defend myself and my sentiments. How you manage to get the truth from me is rather peculiar.”

He suddenly reaches out and touches your cheek; he does it slowly, almost as if you are a beast trapped in a snare and he might scare you away. 

Then Aemond moves his thumb to the corner of your mouth, before skimming it over your bottom lip and pulling it down slightly. He stares down at the inside of your lip — the sensitive, shiny flesh — wishing that he could brand his name there. If anyone tried to entertain you after, you could simply tug your lip down and show them who you belonged to.

This is not a simple bet anymore. 

The urge to kiss Aemond again breaks free from within your system. Against your control, the impulse expresses itself in dirty thoughts that invade the most intimate parts of your body.

Quickly, you grab Aemond’s wrist and tug his hand away so you can press your lips to his once more.

“I hate you,” you breathe against him, holding his face between your hands as your noses brush together. “I hate you so much.” 

Aemond retaliates accordingly; the way he licks into your mouth sends a shiver that ricochets throughout your body. He’s hot. So, so hot. His fingers cup the back of your neck to keep you close as your hands fly away from his face to hold every inch of him possible. 

Aemond’s chest is warm, and his lips are scorching when he trails them over the corner of your mouth and then down your throat. You let your fingers roam to his hair, exploring the softness of each strand that drapes over his shoulder blades.

Aemond knows he’s getting a reaction out of you, that you are starting to feel the prickle of lust. It’s humiliating. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing you can be riled up so easily. It is not like Aemond would give in to your primal desires anyway; he cares too much about duty, about honor. The man follows house tradition — marriage comes before anything else. He is just toying with you now.

You break apart from him, something he surprisingly allows. You want to tell him that you love him, just so he knows. If only you had the ability to articulate such things. 

“Is this all you wanted?” You ask instead. “A kiss from me?”

Aemond places his hands on your elbows to coax you back a bit further; he wishes to see you entirely. His hand then rises to your cheek, where his thumb strokes at the underside of your jaw. “I did not want just a kiss, darling,” he reassures. 

“And for how long have you been thinking like this?” You steel yourself and continue more quietly. “How long have you loved me?”

“Since the boar hunt,” Aemond says without hesitation. “You begged your mother to let you join, and a girl said you might as well be a townsboy. You tackled her to the ground.”

“But that was the day we met.”

“It was.”

“…That is…quite a long time.”

Aemond only hums at that. The confession makes your heart flutter and threaten it to stop; you swallow down his words, grateful, and then try to collect yourself. You clear your throat. “My Prince—”

“Aemond,” he corrects. 

“Aemond. I need you to know something.” 

“And what is that, my love?”

“You can’t sweet talk me into wearing a dress. I will not do it.”  

“You will.” 

Damn it. He is really not going to give this up.

“I hope you burn in the Seven Hells,” you mutter. It’s a joke, of course. You can’t really be mad at him. 

Aemond’s lips threaten to twitch into a smile. An emotion akin to pride rests in his eye. “I shall only go if you accompany me there.”

And maybe, just maybe, you were meant to burn together. Whatever your destiny is, one thing becomes very clear:

You will ruin him, and he will love you for it.

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 4

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 first!

Preview: You and Jessie have dinner at her new place.

Warnings: it’s angsty yall, buckle up (just for a bit), swearing, very brief mention of sex (no descriptions, nothing like that, but it gets mentioned)

WC: 5.5k

A/N: I think this is the end of this series. I never intend to make it more than 1 part honestly, but you all enjoyed it enough so here we are at Part 4. This also ended up more angsty than I had planned so, whoops :)

It was nearing 5pm when your Uber pulled up in front of the address Jessie had sent you. You thanked the driver and hopped out. You hadn’t thought much of the address, not noticing that there wasn’t an apartment number or a unit letter attached to the end of it, so you were surprised to find yourself standing in front of a house instead of an apartment complex as you had expected.

It was a small little blue house, wood fencing all around, a good sized front yard, a few trees, it was exactly what you would expect Jessie to pick out. 

You pulled your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to let her know you had arrived. You had gotten back to the hotel, quickly thrown on a Nike sweatshirt and a fitted pair of gray joggers.

“Hi.” You look up to see Jessie walking through the doorway and down the steps toward the fence gate. You put your phone back in your pocket, not needing to let her know you were here anymore. She reached the gate, unlatched it and held it open for you to come inside. You notice that she quickly looks you up and down as you walk through into her front yard. You can’t help but do the same to her.

Jessie’s hair was down, still slightly wet from her postgame shower, she was wearing a lavender colored long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She looked cozy, as if she was ready to cuddle up on the couch for the evening like she had mentioned wanting to do.

“You bought a house?” Your curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but ask. 

“Yeah, I did. I lived with Janine and her fiancé for the first few weeks while I looked at places, and then I had to leave for the gold cup and I just couldn’t find any apartment that felt like home. I started looking at houses instead once I got back. This was actually the first one I saw and I really liked it. It’s not too big, which works since it’s just me right now but has some room if I need it in the future.” Your brain wanders to the thought of Jessie having her own kids in the future, you knew she wanted them and you had seen how good she was with kids over the years. 

“Plus I figured even if I’m only here for a couple years, I can keep the house. It’s only been a few weeks but I love the area. I'd consider coming back here to settle when soccer is over.” She opened the front door, stepping back to let you walk in first. 

You slip off your shoes, placing them on the mat next to the door where Jessie’s shoes lay neatly in a row. Looking up you realize you're standing in her living room, there’s a large gray couch, a small table in front of it, a tv, a bookshelf that’s filled with books and art and other trinkets. 

“You can keep a plant alive now?” You tease her as you see she has a variety of green plants. In college you had watched her become what you described as a serial killer of plants.

“I’m getting better. A lot of them were housewarming gifts from my teammates so I maybe just haven't had enough time to kill them.” 

Stepping out of the entryway you walk over to her bookshelf, looking at the various titles, there’s a couple photos placed on the bookshelf, one with her parents after she had won the gold medal, one of her and her Chelsea teammates holding up a couple trophies, one of her and her siblings all wearing matching Christmas pajamas. The opening to the kitchen was just to your right, you step in its direction before turning to look at Jessie who was following closely behind you.

“Can I see the kitchen?” You don’t want to invade her privacy by inviting yourself to take a tour of her place.

As if she read your mind she gestures her hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Go ahead, I can just give you the whole tour now while we wait for the food, it should be on its way by now. I was also thinking we can watch the Angel City and Orlando game, only if you want it should be on at 7. ” She looks at the clock mounted on the wall. 

“Yeah that sounds good.” You reply as you step into the kitchen.

Her kitchen was cute, the same wood accent from the outside of the house scattered throughout. She offered you an ice pack for your nose as you stood looking at her fridge. You declined, having just taken the pain meds, it was bearable pain. 

As you continue to move through her house Jessie makes a few comments here and there about what she liked about the house so much, the wood flooring, the large windows that let in natural light, the little nook that she had set up to be a place to read. Hearing her talk about the little things, paint colors, furniture was so simple and yet it made you feel like you were back to your old friendship. The simple minded discussions, the joking around, all the tiny moments you would have with her, it hit you how much you really missed just her existence and company.

You get to two closed doors at the end of the hallway, you point at the one closest to you and look back at Jessie.

“Linen closet, nothing exciting unless you want to see towels.” You move your finger to point at the other. “My bedroom.”

“Oh,” You’re not sure what to say, the closed door seemed like an obvious sign to not go in. Jessie again, able to tell what was running through your head, speaks up.

“You can go in, I just close the door out of habit. I don’t have anything to hide.” Wanting to see her bedroom, you push open the door. It reminds you a little bit of her bedroom in your college apartment. Not much as far as decor, just a few special things on display throughout. Her bed in the center of the room, a nightstand on one side.

“Sorry it’s still a mess in here, I haven’t had a ton of time to dedicate to unpacking and I was more focused on the rooms everyone else would see.” You look around, trying to find the mess she was referring to. Her bed was made, no clothes scattered across the floor, no pile of clean laundry to be put away, no water bottles on bedsides, not even dust, just a few boxes stacked neatly in the corner, the one on top open as if she had been in the middle of unpacking when you had arrived.

“If this is what you consider a mess, we have completely different standards of mess.” You let out a laugh, Jessie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a smile and slow nod. 

You’re interrupted by her phone ringing, she picks it up and before answering the call she points around the corner. “If you want to see my bathroom, it's through the closet. I’ll be right back.” 

She walks out of the room and you hear her answer the call. You take a second look around her bedroom, looking at the couple of personal items that were scattered, photos of her and her Canada teammates, photos of her family, photos of skylines and nature that you assume she had taken. She has her array of cameras all neatly set on a shelf, displaying them. Making your way over to her closet you walk through to peek into her bathroom. It looked like a bathroom, nothing too special about it, a shower, toilet, a vanity with two sinks, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and other bathroom things just placed neatly around one side.

You turn back to go wait in her bedroom being done looking at the bathroom. You walk into her closet, taking a quick glance around, the closet had more boxes in it than unpacked clothing items. Each box was neatly labeled, varying in sizes, all stacked on top of one another. You look at what clothes she had unpacked, it was nearly all clothes for training, one pile had clothes with the maple leaf and the name Canada across them, the other a mix of red, green, some blue, with the thorn’s logo and Portland across them. Looking back toward the exit of the closet your eye catches on a box, more specifically the label of the box catches your eye.

It was a box with your name on it. Printed carefully along the side, in Jessie’s handwriting. You could feel your heart begin to race. You couldn’t move, your eyes staring, your own name looking back at you. Why did she have a box with your name on it? 

“Foods here.” You didn’t even hear Jessie coming, the sound of your blood rushing through your ears muffling outside noises. She comes around the corner, you quickly look away, not wanting her to see you and think you were snooping through her stuff. You weren’t, but you could see how it could look suspicious, but then again she was the one with a box labeled for you. She must’ve seen your sudden movement as she looks at you with a questioning look, then at where the box sat, you see the moment she knows you’ve seen the box. Her eyes widen and dart back to you. You expect her to say something, she does, just not about the box.

“It’s on the kitchen table.” Her face returns to a relaxed state, almost emotionless.

“Perfect.” Mirroring her behavior you decide maybe you’ll both just pretend that box doesn’t exist. Maybe you’ll just let it eat away at you for years, just like you had done with your feelings for the girl. You follow her out of the closet and bedroom back down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

You both make a plate, grab a water, and sit down at her kitchen table. She sits first and you’re then forced to make the choice between sitting next to her or across from her. You decide on sitting across, hoping she doesn’t judge your choice. It’s quiet for the first few minutes, just the sound of silverware. Jessie keeps her eyes down, looking very interested in the plate of food sitting before her. You knew it was going to be awkward, seeing her in a non-football setting for the first time in so long, you were prepared for the small talk, asking about your family, your friends, the weather, you weren’t prepared for whatever this was. Both of you sitting here thinking about that box brought a whole different level of unexpected discomfort, it was making you itch.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t mind you having a box with another girl's name on it?” Unable to hold it in any longer, you let the question come out, you quickly kick yourself for asking that way, bringing her girlfriend into this conversation. Jessie picks up her head and puts her fork down.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” Choosing the wrong time to take a sip from your glass you choke slightly causing a coughing fit. Jessie just looks at you as you try to calm down. Once you stop coughing she continues muttering the words, “and she actually did mind. A lot.”

Your brain is spinning, you heard her keep talking but your mind kept repeating the words she had spoken “not my girlfriend anymore”.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you split.”  You now feel guilty for bringing up the girl.

“Of course you didn’t, you stopped talking to me, you didn’t get to have the privilege of knowing that we split.” Her tone of voice was shifting, becoming annoyed. Wanting to ask more but also not wanting to pry on a relationship you barely knew about.

“Why didn’t you just get rid of the stuff? If that would’ve made her happy?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses looking down at her hands. “I mean I do, it’s,” she sighs. “To be fair it wasn’t just the box, she had always been a little suspicious of our relationship, I told her the truth, that there’s never been anything between us, we didn’t have a history. And she believed me, I think, at least at the start. But then when you stopped talking to me, she’d catch me watching your games, checking up on you, looking at old photos of us, and she eventually found some clothing of yours that I had put away, along with the notes we used to write each other, the birthday cards, the Polaroids, everything. I wasn’t intentionally hiding but it was out of sight out of mind for me. I didn’t need the constant reminder that I had been dumped by my best friend. She again made the assumption that we had dated, or at least had slept together. She read the letters claiming friends to talk to each other in that manner. That was just the start of the mess.”

Nodding along to her story, you try to show her you’re paying attention, and you were, it was just hard when your mind was drifting to a hundred different thoughts. 

 “And then the rumors started about my transfer. I hadn’t told her about it, I hadn't even mentioned the idea of leaving London. I wasn’t even sure it was going to go through, it was a lot of money for Portland and I was waiting on visas and medical and all that bureaucracy and we got into an argument about it. She accused me of moving for the wrong reasons, she brought up you.” Jessie pauses for a minute as if to collect her thoughts before she continues.

“ I then said some things about you I shouldn’t have said to her and then it was over with her shortly after.” The volume of her voice drops as she rushed her words at the end of her sentence.

“You could’ve just thrown it all out at the start, if that would’ve fixed things with her, I wouldn’t have known.” Your statement is true, you didn’t even know she had kept all those things you wouldn’t have known if she had gotten rid of them.

“It wasn’t that easy, I know we weren’t talking, and like I said we weren’t even friends, but fuck I missed you so much. You were my best friend for nearly 5 years, only to get dropped without a reason and I was mad at you, sure but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of that box of stuff.”

“There was a reason, I hope you know that.”

“Well you didn't give me a reason, if you just would’ve told me I could’ve fixed it or apologized or something. Instead I just had to sit and run through every decision I had ever made questioning where I went wrong with you, what I did to hurt you.” You can see tears welding in her eyes as she continues to stare at you, despite the tears, her eyes are cold and make you feel tiny under her gaze.

You stayed sitting, staring back at her, having no clue on what to say to her, stuck between wanting to apologize and also wanting to yell back at her. You silence allows her to continue.

“I would’ve done anything to have you back in my life, all you had to do was ask, but it felt like you wanted nothing to do with me. And that fucking hurt.” Her fist comes down hard on the table, it startles you, making you sit back away from where you had been leaning against the table. You cross your arms as you sit back and bow your head to stare down.

“I couldn’t ask.” It comes out quiet, from your mouth almost as if it was an accident.

“What?”

“I couldn’t ask you to fix it, it wouldn’t have been fair.” Speaking louder you bring your head back up to look at her.

Now it’s her turn to say nothing. She looks from you to where her hands sat on the table. She just waits, giving you the space to give her more information. You know you owe her the explanation, what you don’t expect is the word vomit that comes out once you start.

“I couldn’t ask you to break up with her, I couldn’t tell you I was jealous of her, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you those things, you seemed so happy with her, it wouldn’t have been fair. I had my chance for 4 years before she existed to tell you and I didn’t, but I also couldn’t stand seeing you so happy with her, it tore me apart, I wanted you to be happy and you were. It just sucked that you were happy with someone else. It sucked trying to be a supportive friend, I hated having to hear about your dates, and hearing about your first kiss, and I really hated having to hear all about the first time you two fucked.” The last word coming off with extra emphasis, the memory of her call to you after their night together briefly plays in your mind, only making you more upset.

“I hated it Jessie, but I sat through it for as long as I could because I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be a good friend to you. I wanted to still be your best friend but I couldn’t and all I wanted was for her to no longer exist. I started to think horrible things about her and your relationship and that’s when I knew I needed to take a step back for my own health. I was no longer being a good friend to you. So I stepped back.” Your voice was loud, you were slightly out of breath barely stopping between words as you yelled across toward her, you’re not sure why you were yelling, you weren’t trying to yell at her. It wasn’t her fault she had found someone to make her happy that wasn’t you. But the past year of frustration had built and built and unfortunately this was the time the wall broke, and here you were practically shouting at Jessie across her own kitchen table.

Jessie doesn’t say anything. She stands up from the table, the sound of her chair scraping the floor was the only noise in an otherwise silent room. Grabbing her own empty plate and then extending her hand she offers to take yours. You pass it to her. She walks them over to the sink, putting them down, running the water over them. You stand up, not wanting to feel like a terrible house guest, you start packing the leftovers back up. You open the fridge door and place them inside. The water shuts off and Jessie puts the plates on a mat to dry. She walks past you, not saying anything as she moves into the living room. You hear the noise of the couch, assuming she has sat down you take a few steps toward the other room. 

She’s sitting on the couch, bent over with her head in her hands. Her thumb is rubbing against her temple and she’s bouncing her knees. Leaning against the doorway you stay quiet, you feel bad for yelling at her, seeing her overwhelmed like this because of you, tugged on your heart. You wanted to rush to her side and hug her but you also knew that would probably be the worst thing you could do. You stayed put, leaned against the wall just watching her. She lets out a large breath and then sits up. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t,” you shake your head, not sure what she’s asking. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you look like you want to, so what? Just say it. Don’t be a coward again.” Her words are harsh, insulting you in a way she hadn’t ever before. To be fair to her you realized you had also never yelled at her before either.

“I’m not a coward.”

“Hiding your feelings for 6 whole years, 5 of those years when we were best friends feels a little cowardly, but that’s just my opinion.” You hadn’t seen Jessie like this often, especially towards you, she was almost being mean, not caring what she said to you or how she was saying it. 

“Fine, what did you say about me to her? Before you broke up, you said that you said stuff to her about me that you shouldn’t have. What did you say?” You can’t help but ask, the question of what she had said had been sitting in your brain since she mentioned it.

When Jessie doesn’t respond right away you push her. “Don’t be a coward.” You mock her tone from earlier using her own words. She rolls her eyes at you.

“She accused me of moving to try and be closer to you, she said I wanted to rekindle our relationship. And by that point I couldn’t take her nagging about you anymore and so I was honest with her. I told her the reason I had kept all of your stuff, the reason I checked up on you, the reason I would look at old photos of us, even though you didn’t care about me anymore. I had to tell her my memories of you were comforting for me.” She looks you in the eyes for a second before looking down at her hands.

“Those memories felt like home, that you felt like home. And I then had to tell her that was something I had never felt with her.”

You’re not sure how to respond, trying to process all of Jessie’s words before saying anything back to her. You move off the wall and sit down on the couch, putting some distance between where you both sat.

“Naturally, admitting having feelings for someone else to your current partner doesn’t go over well so that was the end of that.” She mumbles as you sit down.

“You have feelings for me?” Maybe you had heard her wrong, doubting that this conversation was actually happening. She slowly blinks at you.

“Did they check you for a concussion after the hit?” Her question only confuses you more. 

“What?” 

“Oh my god.” Jessie throws her hands up. “Yes, I have feelings for you. That’s what I just said, I just didn’t really know that they were those kinds of feelings until you stopped talking to me and I realized how important you were and that it felt like I was missing a part of me that no one besides you could fill. And then I had her, and that was fine for a little bit, but she wasn’t you.”

You have half a thought to call her out, call her a coward the way she had to you for hiding her own feelings, but decide against it. 

The silence takes over the room, you’re not sure what to say to her. What do you say to someone you’ve been secretly in love with for 5 years when they finally admit they want you back? Where do you even start to make up for the time you both wasted? Where do you go from this conversation? 

Thankfully you don’t have to figure it out at that moment as both your phone and Jessie’s vibrate and light up, both of you reviving the notification that the Angel City and Orlando game was set to start. 

Jessie looks up from reading the notification, “Do you still want to watch the game? I understand if you don’t, I probably wouldn’t want to stay around someone who called me a coward.” 

“I want to stay, if that’s okay. You can yell at me and call me whatever, but just being around you has really made me realize how much I’ve missed your company. So, I’d like to stay if you’ll let me?” 

“Of course.” She reaches for the remote on her coffee table and points it toward the tv turning it on.

“Can I get that ice pack you offered earlier?” No longer caught up in the intense conversation you feel the pain from your nose starting to return in full force. Jessie tosses the tv remote in your direction and hops up from the couch immediately, rushing to her freezer. She comes back with an ice pack, a bag of frozen veggies, a towel, and a bottle of pain meds. 

“Do you want to just sit and hold it or lay down? I can get you a different pillow. I brought the towel in case the direct ice is too cold. And if you want these.” She gives the bottle of medicine a shake. “I also wasn’t sure if the ice pack would sit nicely on your face so I got this.” She holds out the package of frozen vegetables to you. 

“Yeah that’ll actually probably work best.” You take it from her hand. “Thanks.” You add. She placed the pain meds on the coffee table and leaves to put the other ice pack back in the freezer. You use the remote to find the game, and Jessie returns as they commentators start talking about the starting lineups for each side.

When Jessie sits down you notice she sits a lot closer to you then the two of you had been before. Your hips and thighs are only inches apart. She leans back and puts her feet up onto the table. 

You both sit in what is now a more comfortable silence, watching the game. You both make comments here and there about footwork, ball movement, passes, shots, critiquing and complementing the players. At halftime Jessie stands up, takes the now thawed bag of vegetables from you and brings it back to the freezer. She comes back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and waters.

When she sits back down, she closes the gap between the two of you. The outside of her leg now resting against the outside of yours. She places the popcorn bowl so that it rests on both of you. Jessie leans back to rest against the back of the couch and you do the same. The game starts back up again, you both focusing your attention back to the tv. 

It only takes 5 minutes into the second half for you to feel Jessie shift in her seat. She’s moving only slightly but being hyper aware that she’s pressed up against you, you can’t help but notice her movements. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her lean her head over, placing it to rest on your shoulder, leaving her body more forcefully against yours. Your whole body tenses, not wanting to move and disturb her. 

You stay like this for a couple minutes. Deciding you couldn’t let her make all the moves you glance down to see Jessie’s hands resting on top of each of her thighs. You place your own hands in the same position, then move the one closest to her, in her direction. You move just as slow as she had until your pinky finger is hovering just over hers. You slowly let your hand fall on top of hers, she doesn’t pull away, or tell you off. Instead she flips her hand so her palm is now facing up. Eager to finish what you had started you now quickly move your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. You wait a minute, then let the pad of your thumb gently rub against her thumb.

You stayed in that position, holding her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you watched the remainder of the game. Wanting more time with Jessie you desperately were hoping for an insane amount of added time, unfortunately only 3 minutes are added and the game is quick to end.

Jessie pulls her head off your shoulder, sitting up with a yawn.

“I should probably get back.” You say, realizing it was nearing 9pm and while you didn’t have a curfew, you still didn’t want to be caught coming back too late by any of your teammates knowing you’d never hear the end of it, especially since they knew you were at Jessie's.

“Right.” Jessie stands up from the couch and flips a light on. The sun had gone down as you watched the game and the two of you were in the dark without the light from the tv. She holds her hand out to you, you take it and stand up. You quickly pull out your phone and order an Uber, thankful you were in a larger city and your ride would be here in less than 5 minutes. You move toward the door, bending down to slip your shoes on before standing up facing Jessie. 

“It feels weird to say that I had a really good time tonight with all the yelling that happened, but I did. I had a really good time with you Jessie.” You smile at her.

“I had a good time too, this was nice. I’ve missed you.” She replies to you. She holds her arms out to you, offering a hug. You take a step toward her, leaning in to wrap your arms around her waist as she places hers on your shoulders. You stay hugging, longer than a normal friend’s goodbye hug would be. You both release the hold on each other but you don’t move back from her. You stay face to face, your eyes staring back at her brown ones. 

Much to your surprise Jessie is the one who makes the move. One of her hands comes up to your cheek, her fingers are warm and soft on your skin. Her eyes break contact with yours dropping to your lips quickly and then back up. She starts to lean in but stops just moments before your lips would connect.

“Is this okay?” Her voice is barely audible, quieter than a whisper. 

“Yes.” Before you have a second to think about kissing her it’s already happening. It’s a gentle kiss, her lips just placed on top of yours. She starts to pull away a second later, but you let your head chase her lips, giving her a bit more forceful of a kiss. In doing so, you bump your nose against hers causing you to pull back quickly from her, hand coming to clutch your nose.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot about your nose.” Jessie’s eyes are wide as her hand comes to rest on the forearm of the hand holding your face.

“It’s okay Jess, that was my fault, I forgot too for a second.” You wipe your hand under your nose and look down at your fingers making sure you’re not bleeding again. “It’s not crooked or anything right?”

“No, but those black eyes are starting to come in.” Her eyes dart between both of yours. You both let out a small laugh and then are left in silence.

“I’d like to take you out sometime, on a proper date, if you’d want that?” You look at her hopeful she’ll want to continue whatever the two of you started.

“I do, I want that.” She smiles back at you, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay.” You can’t help but smile big back at her.

“Okay.” She just repeats your words.

“I should be going.” You repeat your words from earlier, you knew you had to go, you just didn’t want to.

Jessie moves her hand from your forearm up to your face to grab your chin. You think for a second she’s going to kiss you again but then she’s pushing your head away from her and to the side. She moves in and places her lips on your cheek. 

“Once your nose is healed you can have more on the lips.”  She says teasingly. The gentle gesture has you blushing more than the kisses to your lips did. She releases your face and you see her eyes look at your cheeks, the blush growing. You turn quickly facing the door, grabbing the handle and stepping out. 

“Goodnight Jessie.” 

[b0xerdancer-writes]

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 2

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 7,195

Notes: Part 2 is here! get ready for drunk and baby Eris. Also, this is entirely not proofread at all.

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

I was eight, on a visit to the Autumn Court with my father; what was to be discussed I had no clue, and even if I did know I was eight I wouldn’t have understood the big words they used. All I had cared about this day was getting to see my best friend named Eris, a young male who I understood was the son of the Autumn Court High Lord my father was talking with. He was younger than Rhys by many years apparently. We were only a few months apart in our birth, so our parents thought it would be good for us to hang out around each other when they had these meetings.

Last time we had been here Eris had shown me around the gardens, and told me stories about the many creatures he had seen pass through them from his bedroom window. I was excited to think about what our adventure would be today, my father had let me wear pants and a nice blouse this time instead of a dress. 

“If you're going to be running around outside like your brother, the least you can do is save your mother from the heart attack of getting mud and grass stains out of your nice dresses.” My father had laughed and messed with my hair then morning he came to wake me up, clothes and boots snuggly under his arm.

He handed me the neatly folded clothing and pushed me softly towards my bathing room. I excitedly had taken the change of clothes and rushed myself together, eager to finally be able to keep up with Eris. The pants were a dark tan, almost black color, and the blouse was a pretty silver. Once I excitedly made my way back to father he had helped me into the fancy leather boots he had got me, they matched his and folded over at the knees. After he had dealt with my energy, laughing softly and playfully scolding me for not being able to sit still; he had finally corralled me to sit at my vanity table.

He had pulled my hair into two sections, one of them he made into a soft braid at the top, the other he left loose as he pulled the two sections into a ponytail. I never took these small moments for granted, I knew he never acted like this with mom or Rhys, this was a special side of him only I got to see. Once he had deemed my appearance appropriate he took my hand and led me through the house. Once we had made it to the many steps he had picked me up carrying me under my knees by his left arm, my small arms steadied myself by clinging to his shoulder and cloak. I had never really understood how his winnowing worked back then, he bent the world around us and it was an inky black that shimmered like glitter or the stars. It comforted me like how sitting on my balcony and staring at the sky of an evening did, when Rhys would be in Velaris he would occasionally come and sit with me telling me about the stars and constellations. I savored those days before the world became dark. 

Once the world had folded back into place instead of the dark glittering world that was Velaris and the Night Court, I was greeted by gorgeous colors of red, orange, yellow, greens, and browns. Everytime it unfolded around us I was still mesmerized, the view was like something out of the books father would read with me. 

I was drawn from my thoughts as father put me down and grasped my hand, straightening his back out and rolling his shoulders; he gave me a small smile and a nod as he guided us towards the forest house, where Eris stood with his own father. The small red headed male dressed in nice riding clothes could barely contain his energy; trying his best to contain his excitement in front of our fathers, his eyes sparkled as he watched us step through the archway that separated the gardens from the rest of the forest house property. 

Once we had gotten close enough our fathers shook hands dismissing the both of us to whatever shenanigans we would be getting up too and headed inside the large extremely ornate house. Eris was quick to take my hands and lead me through the gardens, various flowers and plants whizzing by as Eris pulled me full sprint down the pathway that led to the woods on the grounds.

“Come on, come on! I have the best thing to show you! I just found it the other day and I think you’ll love it!” His sharp voice as a child was laced with excitement, breaths sharp as he ran. 

“I am! I’m sure I’ll love it, I love everything you show me!” I giggled and picked up my speed to match his own pace. “Nuh Uh, I’m not telling you I want it to be a surprise!” He had flashed me a smile as we had begun weaving through trees.

After a few  minutes of weaving through the trees I realized we were further in than we had ever been before. This section of the woods was thicker and I couldn’t see the house any longer. Eris didn’t seem worried and I trusted him but there was just some kind of unease that something was going to happen.

Eris slowed and giggled “Cover your eyes silly, I said I wanted it to be a surprise.” He rocked on his heels eagerly and I giggled and did what he told me.

Once I had covered my eyes Eris placed a hand on my back and guided me slowly through the woods. We walked for a few more minutes till Eris slowed me to a stop and grasped my hand firmly. His voice was soft as he spoke to me. “You can open your eyes now.” 

The sight in front of me was beautiful, Eris a step in front of me looking at me waiting for my reaction; Sat in the center of a small clearing surrounded by trees with leaves so bright it looked like a fire above us was a quiet pond, the leaves of the trees reflected off the top but it was so clear you could see the bottom. Eris smiled as he watched me take in the scenery  pulling me over to two logs that rested near the edge of the pond, Eris joined me as I sat down on the log the both of us losing ourselves in telling the other stories of what had happened in our lives in the few weeks we hadn’t seen the other. 

After a while we had begun talking about what our parents were having us train in, he was baffled when I had told him I was not being taught how to fight. I had spent my time in the library, reading, and learning about politics. Eris stood and scoffed, crossing his arms and tapping his foot while thinking. I tilted my head at him while giggling, he looked like an adult how he stood and I could only imagine him as a high lord when he would be older in the same pose. He looked down at me with a quirked brow and looked like he was about to question my giggles when his eyes widened and he smiled brightly at me.

“I’ve got it! I’ll teach you how to wield a sword myself! Only problem is we don't have any wooden practice swords here.” He  covered his mouth while thinking before he snapped his fingers. “We can just use sticks, there's bound to be some around here that would work, I mean we are out in the middle of the woods.”

I nodded eagerly in agreement and pointed to some bushes near the edge of the clearing. “I’ll check those bushes over there, thank you Eris, it means the world to me! You are gonna be the best High Lord one day I mean it!” 

He smiled brightly at me “When I’m High Lord of Autumn you’ll be my High Lady!” I didn’t even have time to respond before he had run off to his own set of bushes.

I turned my back to him as I felt my face heat up, High Ladies weren’t a thing back then and just him speaking it into the world seemed blasphemous. I kneeled on the forest floor and pushed some of the bush leaves away, I scrounged around the bushes for several minutes and came up empty handed. I stood up and dusted off my knees, I froze up as I heard a stick break deeper out into the woods. 

One stick broke and then another, the noises were rapidly making their way at me but I was frozen. I couldn't move, couldn't call out for Eris, couldn’t do anything. Before I knew it I heard my name be called as I was pushed behind Eris who stood between me and a startled deer that was now reared up, Eris had a hold on my left wrist as he pushed me behind him and his other held a thick medium sized stick that he had pointed towards the creature.  The scene in front of me seemed like it was slowed down as Eris put himself between me and the creature trying to protect me, that was the first time I ever felt that tug. Before I could truly understand what was happening That gold thread snapped in my chest and pulled my breath from me, tears began welling in my eyes as I realized what it meant. 

I knew if Eris didn’t turn around and mention the bond here and now I would have to wait for it to snap into place for him. Knew that I would have to resign myself to just informing my father and hope he would see it as a reason to finally solidify mine and Eris’s engagement. We had both known what our fathers meeting meant, why they were so happy with us becoming close friends. 

I wanted to sob when he turned around to me and instead of saying anything about a bond all he had asked was if I was okay. I fought back tears but they still welled in my eyes and he pulled me close, worry laced in his eyes. 

“Hey, hey, shhhhh, it's okay the deer didn’t mean to hurt you, it was just scared and not thinking straight. It's okay I’ve got you, nothing is gonna happen to you.” He pulled me into a hug and I began to sob into his shoulder as he rubbed my back softly.

We stayed there till my tears dried, all thoughts of training lost as we made our way back through the forest house. Eris had me tucked softly into his side as we walked, he motioned to a swing that hung from a tree and softly asked if I wanted to sit there for a bit. We sat on the swing Eris keeping it rocking softly, before both of our fathers pushed the door open. My father looked us over, once he had noticed the now dried tear tracks he rushed over keeling softly in front of the swing to take my face into his hands. 

“What happened Starlight?” his metal rings were cold against my face. 

I sniffled again as Eris moved to rub my back again softly and answered my father for me. “We were out in the woods exploring and there was a startled deer, it charged her but I put myself between them and scared the deer back the other way.”

My father looked him over before he patted him on the shoulder. “Good job my boy, you'll make a good male when you are older.”

Eris beamed at him and I saw his eyes glance over to Beron, who I noticed made a small nod of approval at him. I felt Eris relax beside me and roll his shoulders back. I sniffled and looked up at him and my father stood up to talk to Beron in a hushed voice. 

“I wasn’t able to thank you properly early Eris. So, thank you for making sure I was safe.” I scooted closer to him on the swing and pulled him into a hug.

After a few moments my father and Beron had both nodded agreeing on whatever they had been talking about and shook hands. My father walked back over to collect me from the swing, when I pulled back from Eris he had picked me up the same as he had earlier. 

“I’ll see you next time Eris, I look forward to seeing what adventure you think of next time.” I waved at him and he waved back, jumping off the swing to stand next to Beron who placed a firm hand on the younger male's shoulder. 

Before I knew it the world was covered in that shimmering inky darkness and then as it unfolded around us I was back home in Velaris. My father set me down gently on the moonstone floor and his voice was soft when he called out to me before I could slip up the stairs that led to my bed chambers.

“Are you okay, I mean other than the deer incident? It seems something more is bothering you.” His brows were furrowed but his eyes were soft. 

I had to fight back a sob from breaking through my lips, but as my father he could already tell I was going to cry. He swept me up in his arms and sat us both on the couch, it would be just me and him in Velaris this week. Mother was at the camps with Rhys, which surprised me father would let her from his view. I had been told she was to have another baby soon and it was due within the next few months now. They must have had another argument, I reasoned, that was slowly becoming a regular thing but I never knew what it was about; all I knew was when I walked in on them arguing one time mother had glared at me and father’s eyes had softened on me.

“Starlight talk to me, what happened my love?” He ran a soothing hand on my upper back as I began to sob into his chest.

I could hardly speak over the sobs that wracked my body but father had always been patient with me. “Eris,” I hiccuped and he soothed me, telling me to take my time. “When he stood between me and the deer, that bond you've told me about in the story books.” I paused for a moment to collect myself and stop myself from sobbing uncontrollably again. 

Father stilled and his voice was quiet. “He’s your mate, but I take it he didn’t feel it snap into place himself. Don’t worry Starlight he will one of these days, till then you at least have the comfort knowing you will be married to him one of these days when you are older. It will all be okay my dear.” 

Father had sat with me there for hours as I sobbed, I couldn’t even quite understand why I had been crying really.  I still didn’t quite understand why other than maybe I was just overwhelmed by the ache that accompanied the bond. I must have gotten lost staring at myself in the mirror because I was pulled back into the moment by a soft knock on the outside of the changing room and Eris had popped his head in.

“You Okay? Need help with your dress?” His brows are furrowed slightly, just enough though that the smallest of creases begins to form.

“Oh, Sorry, yeah I’m okay I must have gotten lost in my thoughts.” I  rubbed my temples and before I could even move to zip up the back of the dress myself Eris had slipped in behind me and zipped it up himself.

Resting his chin on my shoulder he looked into my eyes through the mirror, his hands resting on my hips. “Talk to me darling, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

I could’ve stopped breathing right there, I could die happy even if this was the most affection I got from him. “Just distracted, thinking back on our childhood together to think of stories I can tell at gatherings so no one suspects anything.” A half truth. 

He raised a brow at me with a smile on his face. “Always thinking ahead of the game, what story got you so lost in your head you couldn't hear me call out to you earlier.” 

“The deer incident.” I whispered.

“Ahhh. Makes sense, what story are you thinking to accompany me saving your life when we were eight?” He moved from my shoulder, straightening behind me so he had to look down at me, and his hands found their way to my hair as he undid my current style and began winding a braid into it.

“Haven’t quite thought of that yet, just stuck out to me for some reason.” I watched as a small content smile covered his features, finishing whatever style he had weaved into my hair. 

“We will think of something love,” he smiled and sighed, his hands finding their perch on the bare section of my shoulders. He laughed to himself. “Could always say it was the first time you realized you were in love with me, for saving your life.”

I turned in his arms and hugged him, laying my cheek against where his heart would have been. “As always Eris, you are brilliant. What would I do without you?” 

“Be lost in your own thoughts? Getting trampled by a deer? Honestly I can continue listing off events.” He laughed and it sounded like a melody to me, I could hear where it rumbled in his chest before it had even made its way out from between those lips.

I smiled and took his hand in mine to lead him back through that curtain to further our efforts in making it seem like we had been courting for years. “My hero.” I smiled softly and rolled my eyes. 

He laughed and let me lead him out into the shop again, the heels of his boots clicked against the floor and he smiled down at me. “They will bring the dress up to the house for us, I  told them we had more shopping to do.” 

I nodded and thanked him softly, I saw the two female fae peek out from the back room both giggling and trying to hide it behind their hands. He separated his hand from mine and moved to hold the shop door open for me. “After you, my lady.” 

He giggled and I smiled, matching his energy. “Why thank you, my most handsome high lord.”

After I had passed the door threshold he was back at my side, arm slung over my shoulders. “So I’m handsome?” he leaned his weight onto me looking down at me.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. “And you think I’m pretty. Point?” 

He laughed and it was so infectious I was quickly joining in as we moved around between various shops on the ground floor of the palace. We had made a stop here or there, Eris had purchased an outfit for Rita’s tonight: a deep V cut black shirt with some black high waisted pants that made the shirt poof out more. He planned to just wear his current boots but had adorned the outfit with a burnt muted red suit jacket that had gold detailing.  In the same store as that, we found a dress in the same red color that was just a simple backless halter that had a slit on each side. We had worn those outfits out. 

We were currently in a jewelry store at Eris’s request. He had picked out an arm band for me that was gold and carved to look like leaves winding around my upper arm; It had a matching anklet that had Eris sold on it. He had actually given me puppy eyes when he spotted it. I was left alone for a few moments while I looked through the many necklaces the store had on display. Eris returned 5 minutes later with a soft smile on his face but an excited glint in his eyes that just screamed he was up to something that I wouldn’t know about till later. 

I was torn between two necklaces, a golden chain that had two leaves suspending a ruby between them or a gold multi layered one with small onyx gems hanging from each layer.

Eris leaned over my shoulder to look at both of them. “Just get both but wear the onyx one to Rita’s the other one seems more intimate like I would have gifted it to you, wear it with the dress for equinox.”  

He made damn good sense and I had taken both necklaces up to the counter and was ready to go with what I had in the small basket I carried but Eris stopped me with a soft hand on my waist. When I turned to look at him his face was a bright red, and his eyes couldn’t meet mine. 

He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “While we are here, I like this store's designs, I mean. Fuck I butchered that.” He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head at himself, clearly disappointed in his delivery.  “If we had been courting this long, I would have already given you a ring as a promise. I like this store’s designs and craftsmanship. I would like to look at what they have, see if there's anything we both kind of like?”

I had smiled and nodded, taking the step forward to pull him towards the rings, it was sweet how flustered he had gotten at the idea of ring shopping. A short older male came from the back with an odd magnifying device over his right eye and a thick beard, Eris explained what we were looking for and the gray-haired male studied us both before he pulled several out. One was a simple gold band of leaves and vines tangling within itself, Eris liked the simplicity of it he had murmured under his breath. There was a topaz one carved to look like a rose, the band mimicking the vines and thorns, Eris simply said he didn’t feel that topaz fit the design and didn’t think roses fit either of us, that I could agree with. Eris had finally settled on a moonstone blue sandstone ring, the jewel on it looked like the night sky tiny flecks inside glittering like the stars. The gem was set between two branches or vines with leaves and other tiny sandstone gems.

The man had checked us out and packaged everything safely; letting us wear the golden leaf bands, Eris had to help me with the anklet due to my pumps, and the onyx necklace. Though when he had handed Eris the ring to put on me, the older male had done it earlier to see if it needed any adjustments to which was done with magic, Eris was red in the face and flustered as he took my hand in his. The male had made a noise that sounded kinda like a laugh and urged him on, Eris had swallowed his breath as he slid the ring onto my hand. Eris was startled when the man landed a firm pat on Eris’s back and the man gave him a smile and wink as he slid back into the back. 

Eris led us outside where he took a giant breath in, hands on his knees as he shook himself out. “You Okay Eris? Seems like you got really worked up in there.” 

Eris looked at me and smiled. “Yeah, just fine, that was somehow way more nerve wracking than I expected it to be honestly with him there. That guy, cauldron, had one firm hand.”

I laughed as Eris rubbed the spot on his back and shot me a glare. “You just, sorry, you just seemed so nervous asking me to look at them, but were so in the zone analyzing each ring, but then got so nervous putting it on my hand.”

Eris straightened and huffed at me. “It had to make sense! It had to be a mix of both of us but since it was for you it needed more of you, but had to stay impressive enough for anyone at court that might ask to see the promise ring.” 

I smiled and walked past him, leaning close to whisper a quick “Thank you handsome.” Into his ear before I started towards my brother’s townhouse. I'd drop the other bags of our stuff off there and pick them up on my way home. 

Eris caught up to me with a sarcastic huff but still smiling. The sun had begun to set, everyone wouldn’t be at Rita’s till after the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the sky was dark. I looked around trying to think of something to do till we would all meet up. 

“Well, I’m officially out of ideas and we have maybe an hour till everyone will start meeting up at Rita’s.” I huffed and put my hands on my hips as I turned to look at the red headed male. 

He tilted his head at me and his bangs fell in his face. “Well miss sass, how are there any good cafes  on our way to Rita’s? Wouldn’t hurt to be seen in public together so rumors start to spread.” The way the setting sun leaked around him he looked like one of the gods, before the cauldron and before the mother existed. Thank the mother this male was mine to worship like one too. 

“There is one I think, they serve small pastries, coffees, and teas.” I had to think about where it was in relation to Rita's. I often stopped in early mornings on my free days when I wouldn’t be doing anything but reading all day. 

“Perfect! They have outside seats?” He smiled at me and mocked me by putting his own hands on his hips. 

“Yes they do, thank you very much.” I  laughed and stuck my tongue out at him.  He reached out and grabbed it between his pointer and middle finger with a smirk.

“Then lead the way, but watch that attitude my dear could get you into real trouble one day.” He winked at me and I saw some of the females that were passing by blushing and giggling at his remark. 

Once he had released my tongue, my face turned scarlet, he had truly caught me off guard with that move. I smoothed out my skirts and looped my arm with his. Weaving through the streets of Velaris till we came to stop at a small cafe decked in pastel blue and green colors. I pushed the door open and a small bell rang, I could hear a clatter from the back and quickly a female with hair the color of wine peaked from the back. An excited squeak left her mouth as she dusted her hands on her apron and moved to wash her hands. Her name was Panthea and she was by far my favorite baker we had in Velaris, her pastries were so well loved she had managed to purchase a storefront that was right on the Sidra.  

She greeted us happily and asked what we both wanted, I told her just my same as always, a sweetened caramel concoction that was her signature and a pumpkin roll.  Eris studied the pastry case for a few minutes and spotted her cinnamon knots at the bottom of the case, they had a cream cheese icing on them and Eris asked for two of them with some kind of apple tea. Panthea boxed both pastries up and handed us our cups, Eris once again held the door open for me. He sat his cup down on one of the wooden tables and pulled my chair out for me as dramatically as he possibly could while still making it a believable romantic gesture. 

I snorted and rolled my eyes moving to take a seat. “My Prince Charming.” I mused at him.

He snorted himself as he pushed me in. “Anything for my princess then, I aim to please.” taking his own seat he tore a piece of his cinnamon knot off and popped it in his mouth. 

We spent the hour making cheesy jokes and gossiping about whatever we could, falling back into that familiar rhythm from all those years ago. At some point Eris had gotten bored and started throwing tiny paper balls he tore from his napkin at me. One of the balls smacked straight in the center of my forehead and he began cackling hard enough he had to take a moment and rest his forehead against the table. I joined him, having to take a moment myself to grab the tiny ball and chuck it back at him. Though I had landed it in his shirt and he began howling as he  shook his shirt out, the ball hitting the ground. 

After we picked up our mess and threw our trash away we set off for Rita’s. I had to wipe a stray tear from laughing too hard with him as we both calmed down and spotted Lucien leaning against the outside wall of Rita’s. The younger male waved at us and we waved back once we had gotten close enough Eris looped his arm around Lucien’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug.

Lucien had told us the others had beat us by a few minutes and were already inside, they had winnowed apparently while the three of us chose to walk. It would be a full party tonight Lucien had stated, everyone had decided to come, which meant Nesta who I loved for her sarcasm, and Elain. Great.

I hadn’t even noticed Eris had stiffened up behind me as I hugged Lucien, but Lucien must have because he grabbed Eris’s shoulder and nodded. “I’ll give you two a minute, take a breather before you come inside, tensions seem high tonight.” 

Eris nodded and gave Lucien a small smile, letting out a shaky breath. This was it, the calm before the storm that was my family, I’m sure there would be venom laced in every word exchanged tonight. Thank the cauldron for alcohol, if it got too bad I would order a round of shots for the table and then pull Eris to the dance floor. Eris looked up at me with a sad smile, a smile I understood all too well. I had known this smile since his first brother was born; it was the smile that said ‘It’s time to put up our masks. No more just me and you, we have to put on a show and let me only see a facade.’

I gave Eris a small smile back and wrapped my arms around him in a reassuring hug. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. If the boys get too much we can have a code or a signal or something and I’ll step in.” He hesitated to agree which I knew meant even if he did need to signal me he wouldn’t but I played along and gave him a code word and let him know if he couldn’t get the word out to just tap me twice in quick succession. 

He let out a shaky breath. “Right, mask up. Thank you darling.” 

I knew how deep their words cut into him. Had been there enough times to see him breakdown over becoming like his father. Had cried to my own father when the lashings first started because Beron was hurting my mate but neither of us could do anything about how Beron saw fit to raise his heir who didn’t even know I was his mate. I had been forced by my father to bite my tongue anytime anyone talked bad about Eris in our household, to protect Eris my father told me. He entwined his fingers with mine and pulled me towards the door to Rita’s. 

Inside the party was full swing, lights darkened with fancy lights coming from the live band on stage. Lively attendees filled the dancefloor, and under a faint light in a back corner semi near the bar around a large booth with additional chairs pulled up for Cassian and Azriel was the inner circle and Lucien. Everyone was engaged in conversations except for Lucien who was sipping on a glass of fire brandy from the looks of it. 

It was Lucien who was the first to even notice us approach, he scooted over for both of us to fit in the booth. Eris sat next to him and I was on the outside edge of the booth, Feyre chirped a happy greeting and I nodded and smiled back at her. Azriel and Mor shot a glare at Eris, Cassian waved and took a sip of whatever dark liquor he was drinking and continued his conversation with Nesta. The latter gave me a warm smile and tipped her glass towards me in greeting, everyone but Azriel, Mor and Elain had given us some kind of small greeting. 

Small talk took over the table. Lucien and Eris finding comfort in each other, I took the chance to slip from the table and grab me and Eris some drinks. I got Eris a glass of the same fire brandy his brother had been drinking, it was an export of the Autumn Court but I knew it was his favorite, and got myself a glass of a spiked Cinnamon and apple cider that was house made. I brought the two glasses back to the table but before I had even made it there I could see the discomfort that lay beneath Eris’s mask.  They had waited till I left the table to begin berating him and it angered me, none of them could see me except for Lucien and Eris. Lucien shot me a warning glance, it meant they were getting real nasty with Eris. I felt my blood boiling and I tried to calm it even slightly as I stepped closer to them, the sound from the band drowning out my movements. 

“What right do you even have to ask her to do that, Eris? You are no better than your father, for all we know you whisk her away to the equinox dance and she comes back to us in a worse condition than Mor was because she trusts you for whatever reason. Though I’m sure it's just a flawed judgment on her part.” Azriel growled it at the red head. 

I growled under my breath as I raked my own claws across all of their shields as I sat down. I watched Mor flinch as the claws raked against hers and I glared at all of them. Rhy’s eyes found the anger in mine and I saw him recoil slightly realizing he should've stopped them from saying anything while I was gone. 

“Absolutely pathetic.” I growled, passing Eris’s cup to him, not bothering to look at anyone else. “I would have thought  you knew better than to behave like complete and utter pricks in my absence.” 

“Its fine, they're just trying to protect you.” Eris tried to defend them but I wasn’t going to let him be berated all night. 

“No. Eris, it's not fine.” I softened my voice just for him. “My brothers should know you are one of my oldest friends and I will not let them talk bad about you. I have held my tongue long enough. I will not tolerate them saying shit like this to your face at all. I was forced to tolerate it behind your back.”

Eris’s mask cracked just a hair as I could tell he wanted to cry. And Azriel went to say something else, I shot him a dark look. “You have no right to say a word Azriel, you are no better, you only think you are. That ego doesn’t look good on you. Who are you to speak when you do not even know the entire story behind what you bring up.” 

Elain scoffed and I had to stop myself from ripping into her own ego as I took a large swing from my own drink. Azriel shut up though he knew I could rip him apart with pretty words as easily as Rhys could mist someone.  Mor flinched  and tried to defend herself. 

“Save it, I don't want to hear any of your disappointing excuses for being terrible people. He has been my friend since birth and he is important to me in that regard. I know him better than I know some of you, I have let you slander him because father assured me it was the right thing to do but I am finally done. Apologize for your shitty behavior.” A murmur of apologies echoed from every member of the table and Lucien raised his brows and took a sip from his glass, Eris  looked like he wanted to cry even more now.

“Additionally, did I not run half of this court during Rhys’s absence? Am I not just a few years younger than any of you born fae at this table.” A chorus of yeahs found me. 

“Then I will do as I please. And if that means courting Eris, courting my best friend even if it is fake,  so be it because I make my own decisions.” I growled and sat down. 

Rhys smiled and nodded, though he wasn’t off the leash himself he at least approved of what I had to say on the matter. Eris took a sip of his fire brandy but his hand found my thigh under the table and he squeezed softly, a silent thank you. Eris’s hand eventually found mine and I played with his rings, if it was comfort he wanted, it was comfort he would get. I only got up from the table to refill our drinks, but when I got back each time it seemed my outburst had silenced them from saying anything to Eris. His warm smile was all that greeted me when I returned with another glass of fire brandy and apple cider in hand. 

Rounds of shots and appetizers had made it through the table when Mor had finally pulled all the girls to dance. Rhys pulled Azriel outside to talk, leaving me with both red heads and an incredibly intoxicated Cassian who only managed to mumble a “I'm proud of you, I’m gonna go find Nesta, my pretty lady.” 

Lucien dismissed himself to get another glass of his own fire brandy. He had just finished his first glass and was eager to talk to his brother rather than actually drink, though I couldn’t blame the kid. Now that it was just me and Eris left at the table he let his mask slip, he had made it to six glasses of brandy, drinking away the discomfort that was my brothers. 

He had greeted me with a big smile when I turned to check in on him. I hadn’t even been able to get a word out before he was thanking me. “I can not begin to describe the many ways in which I am thankful for what you did for me my dear.” 

Oh no, he was romantic drunk, and it would be in front of the entire inner circle. “You, my pretty lady, are absolutely, irrevocably wonderful. I am honored to have you defend me so passionately.” He grasped my hand and smiled up at me, I’m cutting him off myself this is his last glass I swear.

I shushed him and he wrapped his arms around my waist, while he was seated and I was still standing so he buried his face into my stomach and murmured continual thanks to me. Lucien appeared back at the table and he took a sip before looking over his glass at me. 

“I’ll take him to the bathroom.” Lucien mumbled rubbing his temples and sat his glass down. “Come on Eris, we are going to the bathroom.”

The older sibling whined into my stomach something that sounded like a “I don't wanna leave the pretty lady”

I had to pry his hands from around my waist and tilt his head to look up at me, he gave me those pretty puppy dog eyes. “Eris honey, go with your brother to the bathroom. I’ll be right here when you get back and we can go and dance then.” 

He nodded an agreement and stood to walk with Lucien. I had to stifle a laugh when he tried to whisper-yell to Lucien. “Lucien did you hear that she called me honey!”

All Luucien could answer was a small “Yes I heard Eris, what a lucky male you are brother.” and flashed me a look that screamed you owe me for this.

I happily sunk down into my seat and nursed my third glass of my apple cider. After a few moments I saw Mor who wouldn’t make eye contact with me slide into the seat across from me. I wanted to groan thinking my peaceful alone time with my cider was about to get ruined.

I however, was caught off guard when she said “You know the true story about what happened?” I nodded and she took in a sharp breath. 

“Then I want to apologize, all this time I thought you just hated me because I took your chance to marry him away.” Her tone was entirely defeated.

“Don’t think anything of it Mor, you had every reason to think that was my problem, It wasn’t my place to start a scene so soon. Plus Eris told me about the uh,” I motioned to her stomach  and she flinched “Wasn’t my place to out you on that though you should clear it up with everyone soon. If anything at least with Cassian, he deserves to know.”

She nodded and gave me a small smile. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

I smiled back at her, our first understanding with each other in hundreds of years. “Just don’t slander him anymore and don’t let anyone else slander him either.” she just nodded and reached out her hand. I shook it, a small barely noticeable tattoo of a butterfly appeared on our inner wrists. She made a deal with me about Eris. 

Next thing I knew I had the scent of firewood and cinnamon around me, Eris’s arms encircling me and his happily intoxicated voice chirped at me. “You promised me we could go dance when I got back.”

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708

@acourtofbatboydreams

@abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

ITS HIM!! MY BOY

LAURANCE ZVAHL’S REDESIGN IS HERE

i’ve been so excited to post this you have no idea

important notes and headcanons:

first and foremost, when Cadenza went missing so did his style. she would usually help him pick out his outfits and when she wasn’t around to help him, he just grabbed whatever he had lying around regardless of if it matched or not.

when cadenza dyed his hair back to its “natural” color it was a shade or 2 too light so as time goes on you can see it grow out.

he likes having somewhat long hair because he can put it in a pony tail and braid it an stuff.

-this next one is pretty intense so fair warning-

so when he was transformed into a shadow knight, he never technically died. he was grabbed and the shadow lord instructed gene to have him brought to the ritual table and turned. because most shadow knights are transformed before being resurrected, they don’t feel anything. laurance, however, was very aware. he could feel his soul being split in half, his bones breaking and mending themselves, his teeth sharpening, his eyes enhancing. he felt every inch of it and could do nothing to stop it. sasha is still haunted by his screams.

the only thing that got him through his time in the nether and prevented him from being corrupted by gene was that he needed to make sure aphmau was ok and that she made it home safely.

when garroth first saw laurance after he’d been rescued by ungrth, he was sure he was looking at a ghost for a split second.

laurance writes poetry in his free time, sometimes reciting it to cadenza to ask her opinion. it’s usually not great….

when laurance was about 9, both his parents died to to illness. he was forced to the streets and had to resort to stealing. he had been doing this for a couple years when one fateful day he tried stealing some bread from a little girl he’d never seen in town before. she caught him and cheerfully brought him to her fathers asking “can we keep him??” that girl was cadenza.

he hates wearing armor. it’s heavy and clunky and loud. he much prefers to wear normal street clothes much to garroth’s disapproval.

he loves cooking and does all the cooking in the guard station. he’s pretty good at it too.

he has nightmares due to his time in the nether. sometimes he’ll yelp or scream out. whenever this happened while he was living in the guard station, garroth would come into his room to pull him out of it and comfort him after he came to. garroth got hit a lot as a result. gar never minded but laurance still feels guilty.

the darkness on his fingers is due to being only half a shadow knight. the longer a shadow knight lives, the further up the darkness creeps, only stopping once the calling is answered (if you know what i mean) or until it reaches the shoulders/hips.

the tattoo on his palms are the source of all his shadow knight abilities and the scars on his face enhance them.

so… in this universe aaron is not alina’s father… it’s laurance….! he found out about aphmau’s pregnancy the same way he did in canon only this time he didn’t leave out of anger or betrayal. it was because the calling was becoming too much to handle. he loves aphmau so much but as long as the shadow lord lived he would only be able to see her with an ancient hatred in his bones. he feared he’d hurt her or their child so he left for their safety.

aphmau never knew that he knew about their child, but when she went to the nether to find him, he asked her name.

his shadow knight armor isn’t… armor…. it’s more like a shell, designed to look as intimidating as possible and be as sharp as possible. it materializes whenever his shadow knight form pops out or whenever his body thinks he’s in need of protection.

once when aphmau was trying to pull him out of his shadow form she cut her hand on it. she has a scar from it and he can’t look at it without feeling guilty.

every so often his vision goes. usually when he’s extremely angry or stressed his vision will just. go. it normally only lasts a few seconds or minutes but each time it happens he can’t help but think “this is it. this is when my vision is taken from me once and for all.”

alrighty! that’s all i have for now! i’m sorry i know that was a lot but i just love this guy so much you don’t understand 😭 i hope you enjoyed and feel free to add any more larry headcanons you have

next up is very talented seamstress

[sassycheesecake]

Uncle!Osamu who has just having a regular day at his onigiri restaurant when the entrance doorbell chimes, followed by squeals of excitement of a twin pair, one boy, one girl.

The gray-eyed man looks at the direction of the voices, happy to see his niece and nephew again after not seeing them for almost two weeks.

The girl of the twin pair has dark brown hair and your eyes, while the boy has your hair color and hazel brown eyes.

Today, both of them are wearing matching MSBY training suits, a gift from uncle Hinata and uncle Bokuto.

As uncle!Osamu engulfs the five-year-olds in a big hug, his brother walks in, a tired look adorning his usual confident, cheeky expression.

Now Atsumu Miya, Setter of the MSBY Black Jackals looks like he hasn’t slept properly in a couple months.

He looks like he's been through hell and as a father, he is more than justified to look like hell.

After all, he was a child once and along with Osamu they both always got into trouble. His mother was a single parent and how she managed two raise two boys with a job all by herself without having to give up the twins for adoption is still a mystery to Atsumu.

As Osamu looks at his brother, he notices that the Setter's hair is unruly, he has dark circles under his eyes and is looking at his children with a scolding look on his face.

"I told ya brats a million times not ta run across the street when we go see uncle Samu. If ya get hit by a car, mommy will kill me and marry yer uncle instead."

"Would that be so bad?" Osamu grins in mischief at his twin, letting go of the kids, who apologize to their father with apologetic and guilty looks.

"Shut yer trap, I am too tired ta deal with ya right now. I came ta ask for a favor." Atsumu trots over to the bar stools in front of the counter, ignoring the hushed whispers of excitement from some of the costumers.

"Don’t curse in front of yer kids, they’ll pick up that habit. What do ya want?" Osamu turns around to prepare some lunch for his niece and nephew.

"Can ya watch the kids this weekend? I have been wantin' some alone time with (Y/N) and these little shits interrupt every damn time." The blonde leans over the counter and quietly hisses at the ravenette.

"Sorry, but no." Osamu declines.

"Please, please, pweeeeeaaaaaase can ya watch ‘em this weekend? I can’t even remember the last time I had sex with (Y/N)! And my dick is about to fall off from the pent up frustration of games, takin’ care of the kids and tryin’ ta get alone time with my wife!"

Osamu huffs annoyed at his plea, he already has plans for the weekend, sleeping in, to be more precise.

"Welcome to family life. I can’t Tsumu. I already have plans." The ravenette explains, giving each of the twins a pair of grilled salmon cream cheese onigiris, your favorite and also the twins’.

"Oh yeah? What do ya have planned huh? Ya got no marriage, no kids, no responsibilities, if I remember correctly. I call bullshit." Atsumu stares at his brother with a skeptical expression, seeing that Osamu is walking to the back, he decides to follow after him into the back, telling his offspring to stay put.

"I really want ta sleep in this weekend and I have been wantin’ to ask that girl out from the book store down the street. The brunette I told ya about?" Osamu takes a few bags of rice and hands it to his brother, who takes them without hesitation.

"The only thing that’s in my memory department right now is the Paw Patrol intro theme song, along with ‘We don’t talk about Bruno’ in like 15 different languages."

To be honest, Osamu is glad that he doesn’t have kids yet.

Taking two more bags, both brothers make their way to the kitchen area, where Osamu starts up a few new batches of cooked rice.

Atsumu also puts the rice bags down, staring almost pleadingly at his brother.

"Do ya want me ta go down on my knees for ya and beg? I ain’t asking for much, just please, watch them this weekend. Just one weekend. I really need it and so does Atsumu junior."

"Please don’t talk about yer dick in my product storage, ya will ruin my food." Osamu scoffs in disgust.

"Seriously, what do I gotta do ta make ya watch 'em? Name it." Atsumu keeps trying to persuade his brother.

Osamu pretends to think and after watching his brother who looks so desperate it's almost funny, sighs in defeat and agrees to watch the little rascals this weekend.

"Fine, I'll watch 'em this weekend but ya owe me. That was ma only free weekend in a while."

"Whatever ya want bro, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" Atsumu jumps up and down in excitement like a little kid and hugs his brother while he jumps and down.

"Get off of me, ya dumb idiot. I'll said I'll watch 'em for a weekend, not adopt them." Osamu shoves his brother off and straightens out his cooking uniform.

Atsumu literally glows in excitement and happiness and immediately calls his wife, walking back out to check on his children.

As Osamu watches him leave, he sighs deeply.

What have I gotten myself into?

[thefairestfacts]

Excuse me!?Nobody has ever done a proper Dappling's headcanons YET??

...let's get to busyness now,shall we?

Darling didn't tell Apple about the kiss right away.

Apple ALMOST figured it out on its own

Eventually, Darling finally told her, and she was like "Well at this point it was kind of obvious"

Usually, Apple is scared of "trying new things" but this time it feels more intriguing

Darling was 100% the kiss would upset Apple or else that she has ruined her Happily ever after, she kind of apologised to her. But Apple has changed her perception of happy ending.

Eventually, all of this is sudden for Apple, so Apple said that she didn't know if she liked Darling back (yet), but that she wanted to find out

They continued the feature of "A time of wonder" together, and have study dates

Then they wanted to expand the feature by analizing other stories and fairytales. They also do it by watching movies together (eheheh) and "analize" it

Their first outings were not in very romantic places, both wanted to be as chill as possible with eachother

Apple is always consulting her friends for love advice(Briar,Raven and Ashlynn are so done with her)and Darling taking "revenge" on Dexter because he was always consulting her for Raven.

Darling has been a special guest in Cupid's podcast multiple time. And any reference she makes to Apple White is purely coincidental.

(Darling doesn't know that, but Apple is taking love advice also by Cupid)

Darling loves carrying Apple in bridal style

Apple thinks Darling is perfect,like, phisically and morally and EVERYTHING. The perfect princess, she would say.

Darling loves Apple plump body ♡

"Look at that big æss ,look at that juicy bœty"😏 -Darling

Apple calls her "Darling" as a petname than remembers it's her actual name (it happens often)

Darling flirts with words and vey often, she actually treat Apple like a princess (even in pubblic lmao get a room)

"Ooh pfff stop iiit...actually don't" -Apple

The princess flirts more with gestures and "body language" (she did it before too, but she didn't even realize it)

matching hairclip because I say so

they don't have much in common, maybe two things or Three

They both love books, they pledge in the research of knowledge.

Same family trauma🤙

That's it lmao, but is not much of a problem

Apple is a mess, though she has all the self confidence in the whole world she worries about being nice enough and to have a pleasent presentation(hair,outfit ecc...)

Darling has grown through time, they're kiss gave her more confidence,but still, she's a mess too.

To most of people, Apple looks like a born out gifted queen or even a selfish person, to Darling she's strong minded but also someone she wants protecc because too innocent for this world </3

Apple once bought a bag of candies and marshmallows, as she picked up a marshmallow to eat it she saw that its colors were simular to Darling's palette. She now managed to call her like that.

Their first kiss was so natural, no pressure of destiny or anything else. Just pure love.

Both their family are not very happy about their relationship

First comes Snow White, she is obsessed with "carry on the lineage" and of course Darling and Apple can't have kids and Snow doesn't want to even hear about adoption

Second comes King Charming, he's not upset because they are gurls, "just" doesn't understand why not his son Daring

Darling and Apple eventually started dating even harder (and help eachother to fight back their parents)

Now Apple can't even look at Darling's face without placing kisses because "She has such a kissable face"

🤚😭💞💕

Darling fell first,but Apple fell harder♡

[calethescammer]

A random tcf prompt :

Basically Cale finds an odd box one day with a beautiful necklace in it. And he wears it because why not? Like he did find it in his own room. So he goes around wearing it without realising that Jour gave it to Og!cale as a parting gift. And og!cale never wore it after her death.

So this is what I wrote:

Cale strolled around his bedroom lazily, because his kids had said that he needed to walk around or he'll fall sick. Not wanting to go out and be greeted with Ron's signature tea, he decided to roam around his bed only.

Looking around, Cale realized that he never really paid attention to og!cale's room. There were a lot of fancy decorations, portraits and lavish sculptures, though most of them only served for their looks. Nevertheless, the overall contrast was well chosen and his room looked spectacularly rich, even for a noble.

At a distance, Cale caught the sight of a plain box lying on the mirror-side table. He picked it up out of curiosity and saw in it an enticing necklace with a crimson pearl in the centre, its fire matching the color of Cale's hair.

Cale's eyes twinkled in a childish joy at the treasure he found. He worn it around his neck and was amazed at how well it suited him. Humming happily, he went out to check on his kids.

Outside, he was unsurprisingly greeted by Ron's lemonade, except that Ron stood absolutely still, his face not carrying the usual benign smile and his eyes focused on Cale's neck.

Cale internally wept inside, because this shameless assassin was now aiming for his neck in broad daylight.

'This is it...my only regret was that i could not reach my slacker life.'

Cale finished his farewell speech in his mind while Ron regained his smile, and Cale almost gasped in surprise because for a moment, it seemed as if Ron was smiling genuinely, like a fond parent. But of course he still remained vicious in Cale's eyes.

Cale walked to his father's office for some work, subconsciously putting his left hand around his neck, because the shameless assassin was digging daggers into his back with that chilling stare.

'The young master never wore the necklace after that day. Did something happen for him to...?'

Meanwhile, Cale regretted leaving his bed that morning.

"Father."

Deruth immediately got up from beneath the piles of reports and his face brightened upon seeing Cale.

"Cale, have a seat-"

Cale looked up in confusion, only to see Deruth frozen up with his eyes fixated on Cale.

"Uhm, father?"

Deruth didn't reply. Not knowing what to do, Cale shifted uncomfortably in his position, when Deruth suddenly asked,

"Cale, are you okay?"

"Of course, father."

'Why would i not be fine? The last time i coughed up blood was weeks ago.'

Deruth's brows narrowed and for a second, Cale felt like his father was about to cry.

Deruth looked at his concerned son, and he felt like crying and hugging him because of how proud and sorry he felt. The necklace he was wearing was the one Jour gave to him before her death. He always wore it, and Deruth didn't realise when he had stopped doing that.

He didn't ask Cale for the reason, and he felt guilty for not even noticing it.

(Little did he know that og!cale stopped wearing it in fear of reminding his already grief-stricken father about Jour.)

Deruth looked towards Ron and only after seeing Ron nod did he sigh in relief.

'Although i do not know the reason... it's fine if my son is happy.'

He patted Cale's head, because a hug might be uncomfortable for him, and Cale just stood there, wondering what was even going on.

As he walked through the corridor, the servants and the maids all eyed him, and Cale felt oddly uncomfortable.

'I know I'm trash but isn't that too strong of a gaze?'

He felt that everyone was being extra weird since morning.

What he missed, however, were the servants' fond eyes as they looked at their young master. They remembered how he happily announced and showed everyone the necklace his mother gifted him, and how he clutched it close to his heart, even in his sleep. And how he suddenly stopped wearing it and threw it away.

Seeing him wear it now was a strange and warm feeling, and only did they notice it now how well it complemented him.

"Human, it looks really good on you!"

"That's right, nya!"

"Yeah! It really suits you, nya."

Patting their heads, Cale smiled in relief and exhaustion, as he finally got the normal reaction he so desired.

(And as a relief from og!cale angst: After finding her mother as cale!krs, he gifted her a similar kind of pendant, and relished in joy as she hung it around her neck and showed it off to everyone, much like he did before.)

[whyoneartheven]

What head canons do you have for the LU boys? (Yes, this is a request for you to ramble about them)

aaaahhh hello! Thanks for asking, but wow, goodness me

this will take some thinking XD

umm

ok a lot of these are pretty generic or just other people’s ideas I kinda adopted but here goes!

also I didn’t expect it when I started but this got long…

for Legend, I really like the idea of him drinking tea and still having an apple orchard. And also having honey bees! (These aren’t mine originally lol) Also I feel like post LU (this ofc may change depending on the ending) he fell into depression a little bit before digging himself out… idk I just feel like that would happen. I like the idea of him being a good singer. (merperson stuff but also maybe having to do with post-LA?) Also I feel like he’s one of those people that’s always cold! So he secretly likes to cuddle :)

with Wild, I feel like… he definitely doesn’t use recipes! This is based off how I am in his game and irl, as I just throw things together and never go back to see how I made things before, but also I feel like it just fits his personality hehe! Also based on my experiences in game (to an extent), I feel like he doesn’t actually care about legitimately looking fashionable… it’s more that he likes wearing things that looks crazy XD

on to Hyrule! Ok this isn’t as much a headcanon as a ship but I really ship him and Aurora; I feel like they’d be absolutely adorable together but he’s really private about it! I like to think Hyrule can sew? And I think he’d love to run around barefoot on fresh grass! And just, be in love with nature in general! maybe he doesn’t have an eye for color; he can’t tell if colors clash or actually match lol

Time! I like the idea of Time and Malon having a running joke that the other is color blind, and the chain eventually picks it up! And then Time keeps mistaking one color for another (on purpose or not? We’ll never know), and every time the others go wild XD (this may or may not be based on a joke my parents have irl hehe) also I feel like Time really likes flowers? Idk why! Finally, if Time was in the modern world he’d be the guy who’d be acting food months to tears past the expiration date…

Four, my beloved! Umm this is kinda a design idea more than anything but I like the idea of him growing his hair out and wearing it in a ponytail post LU! (provided he doesn’t die…) I don’t think of him as having voices in his head or being a system but I still like the idea of him talking to himself sometimes XD! Also this is just something canon I don’t see talked abt a lot but I love he and Twi’s relationship sm! Four totally has RBF and definitely stares at people accidentally when he’s thinking… also I saw a crack fic somewhere where Four was already married to Dot and had children and the chain were shocked; it was hilarious, and while I don’t think he would actually have kids, I think it’d be hilarious if he and his Zelda are already quite far along in their relationship (as I ship them lol)

the man, the myth, the legend, WIND, is next! This man has Opinions. I feel like he’s the kind of person so have opinions on things he’s only heard of two seconds before, like automatically deciding he will like a food or deciding the other way round. (And yeahhhh I’m basing him on my brother lol) I’m definitely not the one to come up with this but Wind is definitely the one with the best (and most opinionated) fashion sense! Maybe older him bonded with young Wars in the War of Eras over this (bc I love the idea of older wind being there), Idk XD! Also he definitely braids Aryll’s hair and is generally very responsible (I mean he’s a big brother he’s gotta be XD); he’s treating LU as a bit of a vacation!

Warriors, wonderful man, is next! I feel like he’s very nostalgic. Like, just in general. He likes to look back on his happy memories! Also (once again not my idea) but I like the idea of Warriors growing up either orphaned or really poor, and living in the less palatable portion of Castle Town. I definitely ship him and his Zelda (ok tbh I ship ALL the Links with their Zeldas lol) but I feel like at the point of LU they’ve talked abt it but Warriors isn’t ready (thanks to Cia and maybe just all the barriers in his mind about being inferior to her or smth) Also, give this man the craziest accent you can find and I am here for it; whoever first came up with that is a genius. Ok yeah you can probably tell but I love Warriors angst XD

Sky!!! My bestieeee!! If Sky was in modern times he’d be one of those people who gets sleepy when they drink coffee, fs! He is de the artistic one, and maybe during LU he discovers a bunch of mediums besides woodworking that he loves (and maybe he makes a bunch of art for Sun, who knows!) This next one is based off @margindoodles2407’s Sky for her loz AU but the idea that his parents died in a house fire and he lived with Gaepora and Zelda until he was older is so cool to me! And bc of this I feel like he’d really hate being around fire (to the point of panic attacks? Maybe, maybe not)

Last but not least is Twilight!! This guy totally talks out loud to animals all the time and it freaks people out (they can never tell if he actually understands them hehe)! Twi definitely has a lot of respect for kids too and talks to them like they’re adults (by using the same vocabulary and tone, not by talking about things that aren’t good for kids to hear XD) and I feel like he would write painfully cheesy love poems? Twi definitely can’t cook but I feel l Ike he also cares the most about food? Idk?

ok, and that’s it!!! Wow, that was a lot…

and I could definitely come up with more lol

[lightlycareless]

Since Naoya dyes his hair, do you think his kids would have some sort of confusion(when they’re of a younger age Ofc) when others around them would say they have their daddy’s hair or do you think maybe for a period of time he’d stop dyeing his hair to match with his kids lol. Idk this is a silly thought 🙈

ahahhHHAHAHAH yessssssss This just gave me all sorts of ideas of how to embarrass Naoya as a dad lmao!! It's you know, mandatory. We've all felt that way once in our life!!

But let's start with one thing first 🤭

I want to say that he’ll grow out of it, but honestly, I don’t think so; that man was 27 and he still dyed his hair lol.

But moving on…

At first, yes. They’re going to be a bit confused as to why his dad has this bright yellow color on his hair, when everyone else’s is dark. But once they surpass that confusion, in true innocent nature, they’re going to be nothing but intrigued by it—and hey! Maybe they’ll say “wow, I want my hair like that too!”

Also, they grew up seeing Gojo, and sometimes Nanami (NOW I WANT TO WRITE HIM MEETING NAOMI someone coerce ME QUICKLY) so unusual hair colors don’t surprise them anymore lol.

But as always, when your children begin to grow aware of their surroundings, start questioning things… is when “issues” with Naoya arise.

In other words, the infamous “second-hand embarrassment” towards their parents.

Now, it’s happening for both you and Naoya no matter what you try to do to avoid it. But as of right now, it’s more onto him because he’s the most obvious out of the two.

I mean, the piercings… the hair—it’s screaming “please drop me off two blocks away from the school entrance so my friends won’t make fun of me.”

What they once thought cool, now they can’t stand the sight of it 😂 and it really, really upsets Naoya.

“Why do you paint your hair, dad…?” Naomi would ask one day, dying to do so for like… years now.

“Because I like it.” Naoya responds. “…why do you ask?”

She twists her lips, as if skeptical of his answer, before shrugging and leaving. He’ll tell you about this interaction later that day, but you don’t have the heart to tell him that Naomi once confided in you that she thought it was a bit… weird, mostly since it’s obvious yellow is not his natural color.

Yet, no matter how much you tried, he still gets to hear about it from someone on the staff and boy, does it finally break his heart.

“You don’t like it?” he asks Naomi one day after picking her up from school.

“…No one else has it.” She eventually admits. “My friends think it’s… funny.”

“Do you think it’s funny?” Naoya insists, Naomi simply looks away; she never liked being put on the spot like that, and the conversation ends soon enough.

He sighs, and all he could think of is:

«It’s already started, isn’t it?»

It’s certainly a long way from the days where Naomi was nothing but enthralled by his appearance, admiring him with those big adorable round eyes of hers as she reaches for one of his strands and pulls at it, as if trying to decipher whether his hair was real, or not—or how she’d do the same for his piercings, gently removing her little hands from them so she wouldn’t hurt him, reminiscing on the day you brought her press-on earrings so she could look like him.

Luckily for Naoya, that’s only one stage of their life, for when they grow a bit older and stop caring about those trivial things, they’d actually being to look up to him for advice on how to dye hair or where to get their ears pierced without having to worry about infections and such; the moment the tables turn and they begin to admire him for his style when he was younger, Naoya feels nothing less than amazing, and a bit cocky too 😂.

“Come on daaaad, tell me!! How did you manage to keep your hair with that tint and without it looking like trash???” Naomi would whine; no other color seems to have stuck the way she wanted it, always washing off after one shower or two. “Like, I remember that you even went on missions, and it would still look good!!”

“Ah, so now you like it? What about the kids that thought it was funny looking?” Naoya teases as if that hadn’t hurt his feelings; Naomi rolls her eyes.

“Ugh, whatever… if you don’t want to tell me I guess I’ll just go with Gojo or something, I’m sure he knows a few places or some—”

“No, wait! Don’t go to him! I’ll tell you all you need to know!!”

Just to name a few interactions hahaha.

But either way, I feel that around… probably late 30s Naoya is going to outgrow the whole hair dyeing thing and just let his hair return to its natural dark color.

Everyone around him will take a while to get used to his new appearance, specifically his kids, since it was always blond for as long as they could remember… but they get used to it soon enough. As for you, though, you’re the one that likes it the most and you make sure to let him know whenever possible—he rewards you appropriately that night, I dare say, Naohime was born out of that lol.

“We finally look like a family.” You’d jest one day—as if all his kids didn’t look exactly like him: dark hair, golden eyes…

If anything, you’re the outcast here 😂

Ngl, I wonder what a much older Naoya would look like; would he still have piercings? Grandpa out there still rocking the blonde hair lmao!!!

Ahhh thank you so much for sending in this ask!! While writing this two ideas came to me on the type of dynamic Naoya would have with his baby when she's all grown up; one of them is sweet, the other one is a bit sad :'( we shall see which one I write first 😏

Once again, thank you so much for sending in this!! I had fun :> Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[acaaai-t]

resurface, my love

00. eyes on you

[fem! reader x villain! scaramouche]

cw: mentions of bombs, terrorists attacks, dead bodies, a tiny sprinkle of both fluff and angst, kissing scene, mild cursing

Where did it all start?

When did all this happen?

Why you?

…

Scaramouche is pretty.

Yet his prettiness doesn’t match up with his aggravating personality. It was no wonder why he was always seen alone by himself.

In a way, you pitied him. Maybe that’s what drove your 8 year old self to approach the lone boy.

Grasping your boxed lunch in your tiny hands, you hopped onto the available seat next to the purple hair boy and set your bento down. He gave you a weird look, but said nothing.

You clasped your hands together and muttered a quick thank you before opening your lunch, revealing a row of egg and ham sandwiches neatly tucked against each other.

You picked up a sandwich and offered it to him. “Want one?”

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I don’t like ham,” he said.

“Where’s your lunch? Won’t you be hungry?”

“I don’t bring lunch, and no, I won’t get hungry,” he grumbled, annoyed by your questions.

You rolled your eyes and stuffed a bite of the sandwich into your mouth. “Whatever,” you muttered.

The next day, you brought in two separate lunches, each wrapped up in a different color cloth— one in royal purple, one in a sage green. When lunchtime finally came around, you immediately set out to find Scaramouche.

It took a bit of searching, but eventually you found the grumpy little boy hiding up on a tree secluded from others.

“Hey!” you shouted, waving to the small figure sitting on the tree.

No reply.

“Hey I brought you lunch!” you tried again, yet it was as if he was purposefully ignoring your presence.

“Oh whatever, I’ll just leave it here,” you said, setting down the purple bento by the base of the tree. “Just make sure to return the lunchbox to me by the end of the day.”

And with that, you ran off, nearly tripping over the sticks that litter the grass.

Scaramouche kept his eyes trained on your figure as you run off, all until you disappear under the blinding sunlight. It was only then did he slowly climbed down from the tree to retrieve the lunch you left him.

He hesitated. Nobody had ever treated him this nicely before, there must be a catch to this. There’s always a catch. His grip on the lunchbox tightened.

It would be a pity to let the food go to waste, but what if it’s all a trap? he stood there, his thoughts running wild. His self-consciousness— and his stomach, called for him to accept the food, yet another part of him screamed for him to throw it away.

In the end he gave in and took a seat under the shade of the tree, the cloth already unwrapped and folded neatly to the side. A slip of paper sat upon the bento— a note from you.

“HI. I wasn’t sure what you liked, but I did put some of my favorites in there. Enjoy your lunch :D”

He set the note aside and opened his lunch. His heart skipped a beat and his face flushed a light shade of pink.

You had made him a bento lunch art. Never in his life did he ever received something like this. It was so childish and so embarrassing.

It was a bunch of miniature rice pandas scattered about with egg rolls acting as flowers. Diced strawberries drizzled with dark chocolate sit in a small plastic container in the corner. There were tiny sausages sculpted in the shape of a octopus right next to the pandas. Sliced cucumbers laid aptly to the side, paired with two cherry tomatoes cut in half.

He nearly teared up. Despite how the art looked like it was made not by your parents but by yourself, he realized that nobody had ever put so much effort into him before.

He almost didn’t want to ruin it.

When classes had finally end, you skipped back to your seat with your friends still chattering as they followed. There sitting on your desk was your other bento box, neatly wrapped in the royal purple cloth. Laying on top of the bento was a folded piece of paper. You picked up the note.

A small thanks was hastily scribbled on with terrible handwriting. You smiled.

From then on it became a routine.

Everyday you would come in to school with an extra lunchbox to give to him, and everyday after school he would return the empty lunchbox back to you. Sometimes you’ll find a snack with a note, sometimes it’ll be a keychain.

Scaramouche never approached you directly to give his thanks, but you felt that an empty lunchbox and his small gifts was already more than enough.

This habit continued all the way through elementary and into your last year of high school. By then your collection of keychains had significantly grew. From a cat keychain to a air conditioner keychain— whatever it may be, there’s a chance that Scaramouche had gifted it to you already.

“Yoi look at what he gave me this time,” you giggled, dangling a badly drawn George Washington keychain in your hands.

Yoimiya stared at the keyring, dumbfounded. “That… how did he even find that? No, where did he even find that?”

You laughed. “He has his ways.”

Fire. Screams.

The sound of the late bell echoed through halls. You found yourself running around different classrooms, searching for Scaramouche.

“Where did Scara go?” you muttered angrily.

“Oh Scaramouche? He left early today,” your seatmate, Lumine, said.

“Already? He hasn’t given me my lunchbox yet…”

…

Where did your title as a hero come from?

“Hurry this way!” your voice hushed, urgency laced within.

Another explosion rocked the entire building, and you stumbled, just barely catching yourself. Your felt the grip on your hand slackened. Fear took a hold of your heart when your hand closed around nothing but the ashy air.

Immediately you turned back, adrenaline coursing through you as you search amongst the rubble and corpses. A faint glint of a jewelry caught your eyes. Nearly tripping over yourself, you scrambled over, taking a hold of the little girls hand once again before running for the exit. You didn’t dare look back, for you knew what awaits you. The walls collapsing one after another as the roaring flames blazes through.

A fiery death.

Shredded newspaper littered your room. Remnants of articles lay in the corner of your room in a pile of ash. Angry slashes marked the walls. Clothes a-strewn, curtain torn apart— the window shattered and boarded up. Noises of a news report filled the silence of your room, its voices blurring into static.

It mimicked your feelings.

A torrent of unquelled fury, one that screamed, raged.

A terrorist attack.

That was what the media called it. It was still unsure who was behind this attack despite the many claims as to who had done it. Proofs in form of photographs or surveillance videos of said suspect were all either too blurry to fully depict or it was just really badly edited.

During the attack, you had stayed behind while the bombs shook the building and the fire raged. And you ran, covered in ash and debris, carrying a unconscious girl in all the while leading a group of survivors— all the way until the promise of a safe haven was in sight.

Perhaps that rescue was what gave you the title as a hero, although for you— you didn’t deserve all that fame and glory.

In fact you hated it.

It was the media’s fault.

They had painted you as a hero, yet they had washed Scaramouche as the one that was behind the attacks. It was because of them that the public now flamed him as a villain.

They had painted an innocent bystander in red all because they needed a scapegoat, someone to shift the blame to because the police couldn’t do their damn job properly.

Had you known this would’ve been the outcome, you would’ve never cared for the lives still ghosting the halls.

Had you known, you would’ve just let them burn.

“Eye witnesses claimed that it was this… boy, who had done such atrocious acts. Any word on it, Ma—”

Click.

“It was terrifying… the look in his eyes. It.. was murderous, like he wanted everyone to burn. If it wasn’t for her, I would’ve have been able to escape…” her voice broke off into a sob. You switched the channel again.

“WANTED ALIVE—”

You threw the remote control at the television in a fit of rage, the screen immediately going blank. You didn’t care. It only adds on to your canvas of unfolding bitterness.

Your phone rang again. A string of calls and messages you chose to ignore. It’d been days since you’ve stepped out from your house, let alone answer any of the calls and messages.

A loud abrupt knock to your door jolt you out from your trance. You draped a light blanket over yourself and went to answer the door.

There standing in all his former and glory, was none other than Scaramouche himself.

Your breath hitched and the blanket slipped.

“Hey idiot,” he smiled, something he claimed to reserve only for you. “Mind letting me in?”

…

You pushed the piles of dirty dishes from the counter into the sink, not caring whether it breaks or not. The once quiet house was filled with the noises of dishes clanking against each other and Scaramouche— who was rummaging through the pile of buildup items.

“Quite the mess you’ve got,” he muses, holding up a piece of a broken mug.

“Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick,” you said, filling up a tea kettle with water.

“Hiding,” he simply replied.

“You didn’t attack the school, so why would you take the blame for it?” you slammed the kettle down onto the stovetop.

Scaramouche shrugged and plopped down on your couch.

“Now everyone is after you,” you continued, turning to face him. “And they even expect me to find you and bring you to the police.”

“They can’t find me, they won’t be able to,” Scaramouche said. “I’d say I’ve been hiding pretty well for these past few days.”

“And you didn’t even tell me? I was worried sick—” your voice broke off, hot tears welling up in the corner of your eyes.

Scaramouche could only sigh as he got off the couch. He came up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, his body leaning against yours. “I’m sorry,” he said, resting his chin on your head.

A tear slipped.

“Don’t cry,” he mumbled.

You broke, pushing your full weight against Scaramouche as sobs racked through your body. He brought a hand up to your head, gently tussling through your hair— the only source of comfort he could bring for now.

Why me?

Why him?

“I hate you,” you said, your fists weakly hitting his chest. “I hate you so much…”

He swiped a tear away. It was futile. The storm had already begun. “Hey…”

You sniffed, wiping the tears off your face.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

You looked up, his purple eyes meeting yours. His thumb brushed against your lips, his face impossibly close to you. You could see every angle of his face, all the flawless imperfections he tries to hide. A light shade of pink dusted his cheeks.

“May I?”

All it took was a small nod from you for him to capture your lips in a kiss. A slow passionate kiss. Time slowed down. You felt the blood rush up to your head, your heart pounding against your chest.

His lips was soft, you noted, and slightly tasted like chocolate— could it be from the chapstick you gifted him before? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was only you and him and that was enough. You closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, lacing your arms around his neck.

It was electrifying— your back arching against the counter and him pressed on top of you.

It felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

He was the first to break the kiss. You already missed the taste of his lips against yours.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll be back. I promise,” he murmured.

In the kitchen, just two to-be graduates, confessing their unspoken feelings not through words, but with their action. Feelings that amassed over the years, finally spilled.

“You promise?”

It was on that faithful night that your relationship with him blossomed into something more intimate.

“I promise.”

It was also on that faithful night that he left.

He’d disappeared, no words— he left nothing.

Not a single trace.

You had foreseen this coming, yet you didn’t realize how much it hurts to have him gone. More often than not, you found yourself unconsciously making an extra bento box for him. More often than not, will you take out everything he had ever given you and stare at it for the hours to come.

The painful pang in your heart was a constant reminder that he’s gone.

He’s gone.

Perhaps his disappearance was what encouraged you to major in criminology and criminal justice after you graduated. It was your fuel of both determination and delusions.

Years passed by in a flash, and before you could even process everything that had happened, you found yourself with a position as a detective in Tenryo Detective Firm.

Yet even after all those years, you haven’t seen or heard from Scaramouche. The last time the two of you had ever interacted was when nearly four years ago, when he had promised you that he’ll be back. And even despite the fact that you’ve been waiting for his presence for year on end, your feelings for him never wavered. You still firmly held onto the promise he had made you, after all Scaramouche is a man that never goes back on his words.

Even if you had to keep waiting. But that’s okay— you’re patient.

“Hey hero, got anything?” Heizou asked, poking his head into your office.

You groaned— both at the stupid nickname and the frustration building up. “Heizou stop with that ugly name, and no, haven’t gotten anything yet. I swear, I’m going to bash my head into the wall.”

“Ahah, I don’t think Sara would like that our hero tries to kill herself. Besides, I’ve got good news. You just got a small tip about the case you’re working on.”

You immediately sat upright in your chair. “What?! When? How come I was just informed of this?”

“The tip just came in, come on, Sara’s telling you to check it out it,” Heizou said, disappearing as he turned away.

You got up from your chair and flung your jacket over your shoulder. “Hold on wait for me! Heizou!”

Hero.

That nickname always brought up unpleasant memories.

Hero.

Solving cases, catching criminals, helping people. It’s what you’ve been doing ever since you graduated, long before the Tenryo Detective Firm took you in.

Could you even be considered a hero?

Gaining a position in this type of job was what allowed you to figure who the real arsonist was behind that attack. But even after the truth had come to light, it was by far, still too late. The damage had already been done, the paint cannot be washed away.

A light breeze from your office window blew at your orderly pile of documents, a couple pages fluttering to the side just as the door closed behind you with a loud slam, your voice screaming for Heizou quickly fading away.

It was silent in your office.

Two sparrows flew to perch on your windowsill, their loud chirps indefinitely breaking the silence. They weren’t staying for long before they flew off— perhaps something had spooked them.

A figure emerged out from the shadows. They scanned their surroundings around for any onlookers, and when they’d made sure that was nobody, they slowly approached your window. With quick and precise movements, they unlatched the window screen lock and slipped in unnoticed.

“I’m in, what now?”

“Get all the documents regarding him.”

“On it.”

They moved with ease, gliding around as they searched through shelves, drawers, anywhere for the required documents. A locked drawer in the corner of your office caught their eyes, and it wasn’t long before the lock was popped off— revealing the stack of documents you’d classified as “IMPORTANT.”

A quick sift through the papers confirmed his needs. “Think I may have found it.”

“Good, did you gather information regarding her too?”

“Hold on, let me check… yeah I think I’ve got that too.”

“Okay, now get out of there. She’s coming back.”

“One moment…”

They carefully stored the documents into their bag and began fiddling with the lock before latching it back onto the drawer. To avoid arousing any suspicion, they had also arranged the room to the way it was exactly how it was before. Books were pushed back into the shelves, the documents on your desk were neatly stacked, thick folders filled with random case documents were inserted back into their original drawers.

Your voice traveling down alerted them. Giving the office one last look, they opened the window and hastily jumped out.

A tiny pin with their insignia fell onto the floor with a quiet clink.

The window dropped shut just as you pushed open the door with Heizou trailing right behind you.

“What kind of tip was that?” you exclaimed. “That was a utter waste of time.”

Heizou shook his head and sighed. “Twisted sense of humor, hate them.”

You plopped down on your chair and spun around. “Riddle this, riddle that. Now I have to stay up to decipher that stupid code. If it’s some dumb message like, ‘I like ice-cream,’ I’m gonna strangle someone.”

“I’ll just leave it on your desk,” Heizou hummed. “I have another case I need to catch. Heard they’ve got a new lead.”

“Finally a new lead for you,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s been weeks.”

“I better come back with a closed case.”

“Come back?” you echoed. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, they found the new lead in the city of Watasumi, so they’re asking me to travel there to further investigate it,” he replied. “I’m going to pack my bags, see you next week!”

“Have fun! Don’t die.”

“I’ll try not to,” Heizou grinned. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You reached for the small slip of paper Heizou had left on the corner of your desk. Scribbled on it was a string of random code. By no means was this discovery unfamiliar to you. Throughout your career, you’ve dealt with far too many undeciphered codes. And you’ve managed to break through it each time.

This looks easy.

You turned on your monitor and set to work immediately.

When the sun had dipped far below the horizon, when the glow of the moonlight shone into your office— you were still clacking away on your computer, muttering nonsense to yourself as you racked your brain trying to break the code.

The clocked ticked on.

“If delta means this… then hexa should be this… oh shit that’s what it means? Wouldn’t that also change the way hexa is translated? Oh my god… do I really need that again?… fuck I do.”

Groaning loudly, you pushed your chair over to where your locked cabinet is. Your keys clinked against each other as you pushed a small silver key into the lock hole— where all your important files were supposed to be stored.

All the files regarding the disappearance of Scaramouche— and all the documents you’ve written about the various code you’ve solved.

Gone.

Where the fuck did it go?

You stood up, panic prickling at you.

“I didn’t misplaced it right?” you muttered to yourself.

So you searched. Every shelf, every corner, every nook and cranny. You took out folders packed full of other documents and sorted through each one individually, yet even after all the endeavor put into it, you just couldn’t find it.

Dawn was quickly approaching.

You sat back down on your chair— sinking into the plush and took in slow deep breaths in an effort to calm your erratic heartbeat.

Maybe a co-worker took it. But they couldn’t had the keys to it…

You blanked out, lost in your thoughts. A sudden minor detail caught your eyes. You frowned.

When did I close the window?

You got up from your chair, only then a sudden flash of red on your monitor screen recaptured your attention. You sat back down and turned to face the screen, but it seemingly returned back to normal… no, something was wrong.

Your contents had changed, for a canvas of white had replaced the endless amount of tabs you’d opened beforehand. Slowly, words began to format, each letter slowly appearing.

The first rays of the morning sun peeked through your window, consuming the shadows of your office. It was quiet, the only source of sound being your quickened breathing.

Your stomach dropped. You stared at the screen, the cold grasp of fear slowly worming its way into your heart.

It’s over, the eyes watches— it knows.

The clock stopped ticking. The slip of paper on your desk, long forgotten.

series m.list || next

synopsis— [✩]

— you, the hero, disappears overnight, and the only person who looks is the villain. Not your friends, not your family, not the news reporter or any of the people who claimed to love you. Just him, Scaramouche, the very same person who claimed to hate you.

notes— [✩]

— this chapter was meant to be a quick run through from the beginning of you and Scara’s relationship to the “end.” hopefully this hero x villain dynamic makes sense lol 🙏 (the ending kinda sucked ngl)

taglist— [✩`·CLOSED]

@akairaindrops @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @elernity @shayewrites @angel-suicides @magica-ren @kyouzki @nana-bri @avxntxrine @bleedingwhiteroses222 @rainingduringsummer @darthvada @dan9a-00 @omgblade-starrail @kichiyoshi @inufinuf @vvyeislazzy

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 3/15

Part 4 and 5 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.

Enjoy!

It was another slow day at the shop. You were sagging over the front desk with a lollipop in your mouth, thinking about anything better that you could be doing with your time. Sleep, for example.

"You're still here?" A pair of high heels were heard emerging from the back. Jenny popped up looking gorgeous than ever,  with her lips painted red, matching the color of her hair that was laid down over one shoulder. "I thought Mrs Arnold said that you'd be leaving this morning?"

"I'm not going to Liverpool." You muttered.

"No? Why not?"

Since her newfound free time due to retirement, Grandma often took the train to Liverpool whenever Trent and his team played a home game at Anfield. By now it had become tradition. A tradition that you were perhaps expected to follow, but had a long list of reasons not to. Number one:

"Trent and I aren't really speaking." You said.

"It's that bad huh?"

Jenny put on her coat and went over to the coffee machine. She returned to the front desk with her cup.

"I dunno." You muttered. "It's not like I can't call him and he won't pick up. It's more me ignoring him for what he did to me."

"You mean telling your parents the truth?"

"Right. What a dick move that was."

Jenny shook her head, a smile on her face. "I don't know, Y/N. I think that deep down your brother just worried about you not really having a job or a place to stay. He was fair to let you crash at his for a while, that's what family is for. But it was also fair of him to kick you out when he felt like you weren't pulling your weight. I mean he was basically providing for someone who should be able to provide for themselves, don't you think?"

"What if I don't wanna be a provider?" You protested, with a pout on your lips. "What if I wanna be pampered and taken care of whilst my rich husband works and I sleep all day. Isn't there a name for that? I should have studied that shit instead of marketing. What's it called again?" You snapped your fingers for the answer to come to you.

"A housewife?" Jennifer said.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I wanna be a housewife, not a provider. Trent ruined that for me. He took my dream."

"Um, I'm pretty sure being a housewife involves more than sleeping and being provided for."

"Really, like what?"

"Well, aren't they supposed to raise children and take care of them?"

"Huh? I don't want kids."

"Right." Jennifer sighed, realizing that you had your own logic applied to the matter. "Either way I was thinking about closing down early today,  if that's okay with you?"

"What for?" You frowned.

"Well, a couple of friends and I were thinking about catching the game in a bar not too far from here. You didn't think your grandma would hire someone who isn't a Liverpool fan, did you?"

"Sounds like grandma." You chuckled.

"Yeah, so feel free to join us. If not, we could always keep the shop open, with you tending the front desk."

You shook your head. "No, you're right. We should close early and catch the game instead.

"Great, I'll finish packing up some boxes in the back, if you wanna get started on sweeping the floors?"

"Gotch cha', I'll see you in a bit."

You grabbed a broom, ready to sweep like those dusty children in that play that Grandma used to take you and Trent to see as kids. Fiddler On The Roof, it was called. You and Trent used to really enjoy spending an evening at the theater, especially back in the days when your grandpa was still alive.

You were halfway done sweeping when the bell to the front door rang and a young woman entered the shop.

"Um, hello?" You frowned. "The sign outside says we're closed."

"Hello." The woman smiled. "I'm looking for someone, a stylist that I've been told works here."

"Um, you got the wrong shop madam. We only do fittings here, not makeovers."

The woman took your words politely, batting her long eyelashes. "But I've been told that a stylist works here and a really good one at that. I'd like to meet with her please, my client demands it."

You rolled your eyes. "We'll there's only three people working here. One is me and a sixty-two year old lady with a bad hip."

"And the other one?" The lady looked you up and down, not at all impressed with what was presented to her. "Who is the third person?" She asked.

You sighed, but leaned on your broom, shouting for Jennifer. She emerged from the back to the young woman's obvious relief.

"Hello, you must be who I'm looking for."

"Um, hi." Jenny smiled, shaking the hand that the invidious young woman offered. "Do you mind if we talk in private?" She said, looking back at you with your lollipop in your mouth.

"Um, sure, why not."

The two of them disappeared into the back office but returned a couple of minutes after. By then you had swept the floors and all that was left to do was close down and lock the shop.

"What did she want?" You asked Jenny, seeing as the young woman left with her tail between her legs.

"I dunno." She shrugged. "Something about a job, but I told her that she must be mistaken because I'm not a stylist."

"Hmm, strange. "

"Yeah, either way, are you ready to go?"

"Sure. The bar is only down the street right? I might as well leave my things here, no?"

"If you want." She shrugged.

You did exactly that. The two of you were then off to the bar, a fancy and quite posh place. But apparently Jenny and her friends hung out there all the time. They were quite different from you, a different sense of humor etc. It made you feel left out, until they found out who your brother was of course. People naturally paid more attention to you once they knew that you had a twin brother who played football in the highest league in England. Same thing happened at university, making it hard for you to tell which friends liked you for you and which ones didn't. It all showed itself during your years of crashing at people's houses. In a way you saw it as a test of friendship. A test of who would put up with you the longest. So far the winner was Trent. Perhaps that's why him wanting you out, hurt the most.

********************************************

You lit the flashlight on your phone upon returning to the shop to grab your things. The night was still young and Jenny and her friends decided to head for another bar after the game. They insisted you'd come with them, however you declined the offer, saying you were tired from a day of work.

"Stupid bag, where are you?" You were looking for it in the dark. Why you didn't bother turning on the light might have to do something with the fact that you were crying your eyes out like a toddler. Why? You had no idea. It started at the bar. In the bar's bathroom to be specific. The Liverpool match ended with a victory for the home team. Jenny and her friends celebrated with a round of shots, whilst you receive an incoming facetime call from your mother. It was her, your dad and Grandma, surrounded by cheering fans who all celebrated the team's victory.

"We wish you were here honey, hope you're having a great night." She said before ending the call.

For some reason her words and the whole situation made you want to smash a mirror with your fist. You even entered the bar's bathroom,  ready to do it. It was an uncontrollable and raging feeling that swept through your body, the ones you used to get as a child whenever you felt rejected or unfairly treated. Doctors and school counselors would blame your tantrums on your ADHD, but for some reason you always blamed your twin brother Trent. It was Trent's fault that the other kids didn't want to play with you. Trent's fault that the adults swept you aside in order to praise your opposite, despite the fact that you were the first one to emerge from the womb. It was all Trent's fault.

Everything.

"Um, are you okay?"

"Aaaaahhhhh!"

Your scream echoed throughout the shop. You turned around to the sound of a man's voice, only to be met with a giant dark shadow lurking by the door.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You squinted your eyes and let the silhouette of the streetlights reveal his identity. "Ruben?"

He smiled. "Good. You remember me."

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Risky Romance: A Series

A Helping Hand

maximilian verstappen I don't know what to wear for this dinner

giselle wolff bring three options to danny's and my room and we'll help you pick! he's should be out of the shower any minute

maximilian verstappen ok be down in five

"Babe! Hurry up, Max needs help picking an outfit," I call out, holding my robe tighter to my body as I move to the door, not nearly ready myself. Pulling open the door, I can't help but smile at the sight in front of me.

Max Verstappen is not a man that gets clearly nervous, but he's also a man who's eyes you can read.

And the concept of this dinner has him anxious.

"Max, this isn't life or death. It's dinner with my parents, Lewis, George, Carmen and Mick. There's no reason to be worried," I try to sooth, but his brows furrow, the little crinkly look he gets when he's uncomfortable clear as day.

"I'm not worried, I just needed a second opinion," He denies, holding up the hangers in his hand as if this makes him more believable.

"Whatever you say lion boy, come on in, Dan's just finishing in the shower and I was just looking for what we should wear," I explain, taking his free hand and pulling in him, the door shutting behind us just as I push him into sitting on the end of the bed. "What are your options?"

He holds out the shirts, this time in offering, and I take them, letting go of the sides of my robe and letting it open slightly as I hold the shirts in front of myself. With how they're held they are blocking any sight of my bra and panties, my attempt to be sure I don't cross a line Max won't be comfortable with, but with how intensely Max is staring at me, almost trying to set fire to the shirts that are blocking his path.

"Okay, so I'm going to set aside the Redbull polo because, seriously?" I can't help but ask, throwing the shirt at him and making him chuckle at my commentary.

"What are you doing baby?" Danny's voice rings in my ear, just as his body heat becomes apparent behind me, hands finding my hips and lips finding the crown of my head. He pulls away in a robe of his own, walking over to Max and patting him on the shoulder, taking a seat beside him. "Good to see you could make it."

"Almost changed my mind when I didn't know what to wear, but I texted Elle and now I'm here," is Max's response, his eyes drifting over Danny's body before coming back to meet my own, his cheeks tinging pink at being caught.

"Don't worry, you're in great hands, Gigi picks out all my outfits and I'd like to think I always look great," Dan assures, standing promptly to grab the floral dress I had put aside, the tangerine, burnt orange and white flowers set on a sage base, the sage being the same color as Danny's shirt we had chosen earlier.

"Dan you're a genius," I giggle excitedly, looking between the confused Australian who still holds our outfits, an even more confused Dutchman looking with his eyebrows meeting his hair. "Max, how do you feel about matching us?"

"Matching... the two of you?" He asks, pointing between Dan and I slowly as Danny makes his way closer, laying my dress on the bed above my heels for when I'm ready.

"Well, in a way," Is my attempt at backtracking in how direct I just was, "You'd just be wearing your white button up," I explain, holding it in front of the baby blue one that was his other option. "And it would sort of look like we planned it, since both you and Danny would be wearing a shirt that matches an aspect of my dress."

And you can see the smile slowly start to come to his face.

"Yeah, that'd be ok," He agrees, making my smile widen if even possible.

"Okay, put this on," I instruct, handing over his shirt back into his hands, patting his chest before turning to Dan, "Baby, can I have my dress?"

"Do you really need it?" He asks with a smirk, and I can hear Max cough in shock from beside me.

"Daniel," My tone is scolding although both men know I'd never mean it. "Dress, please."

"Yes ma'am," He relents, although still with a cocky smile as he hands it over, "Are you going to change in here?"

The question makes me pause, because ever since Danny and I got together, more accurately slept together, we've felt plenty comfortable changing in front of one another. But Max is in here, and the suggestion of changing with him in here should make us all uncomfortable, except for the fact that it feels so normal for him to be in here, getting ready with us.

"It's your room, I can step out," Max offers, sensing my hesitation.

It's not that I'm uncomfortable, it's that I don't want him to be. While I've been lose about keeping my robe shut, it only has showed a sliver, not my whole body.

"Or you can just change," Is his next offer, a small smirk coming to his face. "I'll try not to look."

I can't help the blush that rises to my cheeks, or the heat settling in my stomach as I realize both of them are watching me. Dan has made some progress, managing to get his jeans on in the time Max and I took in deciding his shirt.

"Fine. But you two need to get ready if we're going to be on time."

"Babe," Danny begins, taking his shirt off the hanger as Max reaches for the hem of his shirt, it rising slowly in his pull over his head, revealing just how gorgeous he continues to be. "The restaurant is in the hotel, we're putting our shirts on and all you need if your dress and heels. We'll be on time."

I nod, because he's right, there really is no concern on time. So I pull my robe off my shoulders, turning around as it falls to take my dress off the hanger. The robe hits the floor as I have the zipper undone, turning around slowly to find the eyes of both boys on my body.

"Very discrete, boys," I can't help but tease, their eyes dropping down to their buttons in a near sync that makes me chuckle. Men.

Pulling my dress up over my hips, I slip the straps over my shoulders before turning my back to the boys once more. "Can one of you zip me up?"

There's a pause, but when I feel the heat of a hand on my hip, another hand slowly pulling my zipper up I don't question that it's Dan.

Until the person leans into my ear, warm lips nearly touching my ear as he says, "Let's get to that dinner, right schat?"

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

A small collection of KOTLC things Shannon told me at 3am

I promise she told me guys, this is totally legit

Dex Dizznee isn’t actually blonde but ginger, he gets his hair color from his dad. The three triplets all have strawberry blonde hair like their mom. His hair is also curly but like, loosely curly, and it’s really dry from all the shit he ‘experiments’ on it with.

Fitz Vacker once accidentally stumbled into a musical while in the human world and now absolutely loves musical songs. His favorite is Phantom of the Opera. It wasn’t like Alden was constantly watching him in the human world so he’d sometimes just sneak into theaters to listen and watch the shows.

Maruca Chebota is the most middle child ever. She has an older and a younger brother, but also another older cousin (Wylie) and two younger cousins. She’s even in the middle in terms of that, which is ironic because her mom is also the middle child between her two siblings.

Terik is Talentless, but he’s got basically a watered-down version of Empathy from his parents, who were both incredibly powerful Empaths who had been tasked with making sure Elves turned into myth for humans. He’s been scamming the whole Elven society for centuries and isn’t about to stop now.

Alina’s family was involved in a scandal when she was very young that resulted in them being cast out from the Nobility and their birth funds being revoked, though they were allowed to remain in Talentless cities. She decided to pursue Alden primarily for his family name - and the fact that she would up being one of the first people on his Match list was just the cherry on top. It made it even worse when he decided to marry Della instead, though at that point it was later enough she could detach herself from her family anyway.

Sophie Foster’s human family were anti-vaxx, Protestant, and Republican. Sophie was always a bit too busy trying to manage her telepathy to notice much about their political stances. Amy is growing to be significantly more liberal and had began to openly argue with them before everything in Nightfall happened.

Alina is Fitz’s biological mother. After Alvar was born and already not shaping up into the son Alden wanted by age 11, she used his desperation to Beguile him into having a child with her. When Alden realized what she’d done he did his best to cut all contact with her, though he did take Fitz, something with both Alina and Della resented. Alvar knew about this, which is why he dislikes Fitz so much while still loving his younger sister, Biana.

Livvy Soden is a triple agent, working in the Black Swan as a spy for the Neverseen as a spy for the Black Swan. No one is quite sure what her intentions are any more.

Wylie Endal has his own group of friends, who are all in their early 20s, and who love making fun of him for being forced to hang out with a bunch of teenagers. His best friend among them is Tanho, who’s Talentless, and was kicked out of his house at age 15 as a result after an abusive childhood. He stayed with Wylie and Tiergan for a few months after while trying to sort himself out, and is a large part of the reason why Wylie is now as observant and skeptical as he is.

Stina Heks isn’t actually an Empath, she’s a Mesmer, but a weak one. Not that she knows it.

It’s not actually Fitz who has the Nobility attitude towards humans, as in condescending and ignorant, though it does seem that way - he spent far too much time in the human world to not pick up on some of the good and interesting parts of humanity as well. It’s Biana, who spent most of her childhood being raised in a fairly isolated group of Elves who all had huge superiority complexes towards other species.

Ruewen is Edaline and Juline’s last names. Juline took Kesler’s last name to finally shut up her parents, who were harping on about how Kesler was using her for her family.

Grady Ruewen’s mother disappeared soon after he manifested as a Mesmer at age 12, resulting in a huge amount of people blaming him for it and his family, already in a precarious social position, to get hit even harder. Taking Edaline’s last name allowed him to entirely reform himself to a new person to the outside world. At least, until Jolie died.

Jolie Ruewen was a part of the Elven equivalent of a punk rock band, which tends to have a slightly more melodious (though still loud and chaotic) sound than human rock. Brant was their singer, and they had their first kiss during a concert, to excite the crowd even more. They decided they liked it and just kept doing it even off stage.

The movement began a few decades earlier, after an illegal trip to the human realm gave some twenty year old elves the idea to begin making their own instruments to try and mimic the sounds they found in the human world.

Tam and Linh Song grew up purposefully separated from each other, with Tam mainly spending time with their Dad and Linh their mom. As a result, Linh developed a love of painting, as it’s some of the only pleasant times she can recall with her mother, and Tam developed a hatred of economics and desk chairs.

Keefe Sencen and Linh Song are really good friends. No one else is aware of this. They also regularly vandalize council buildings.

Despite what certain artists and books will tell you, Elven houses are not made of crystal. They’re based on Ancient architecture, mainly using stone or wood or both, and have a wide variety of designs and patterns depending on where you go.

Most Elves do live in populated cities. Rimshire is a small-ish house located on the outskirts of Mysterium, not as close to the more densely populated parts of the city, but still with a lot of people. However, as Nobility usually do love in isolated, grand estates, it took a bit for Juline to get used to it. As Kesler grew up in a much smaller house with five siblings, he had the opposite experience.

Marella Redek’s favorite aunt is a Neverseen member. Marella is a Black Swan member. They have fought each other before and the next day hugged at a family gathering. Neither are aware of this.

Fitz Vacker talks to his stuffed animals. He has more than one - he has Mr Snuggles, obviously, but also Biana gave him one during Flashback, and Keefe made him one before he left for the Neverseen the first time. They all give different advice. Mr Snuggles sounds like Tiergan, the one Biana gave him sounds like Alvar, and the one Keefe made him sounds like Keefe.

Rayni Aria (Glimmer) was lying about her entire backstory in Stellarlune. Tam is the only one who knows what actually happened to her.

Rayni and Linh eventually grow to tolerate each other, if for Tam’s sake only. Linh can’t deal with having to share the one person she’d always thought would put her first (nevermind if he always would anyway); Rayni sees Linh’s hostility and automatically returns it with her own. As they get used to each other, they can be in a room without arguing or passive aggressively insulting each other.

Despite this, they’re actually very similar people, which makes them both even angrier. Linh can’t even make fun of how he acted with Keefe anymore now because of how she and Rayni act.

The reason Bronte is so mad at Fintan is that he found out that Fintan was dating JRR Tolkien at the same time as they were secretly dating (as to avoid being kicked out from the Council). Fintan was under the mistaken impression Bronte was also dating him, Bronte had misspoken and said he was ‘dating’ Tolkien instead of ‘rating’ Tolkien (as in, his books).

Fitz and Dex are in love, the Vackers are Desi, and Fintan has a flat ass. This is common knowledge though.