#teal and peach are more than enough. it fits as it is

[trophygony]

one thing to know about me is that they're unappealing colors

[adobe-outdesign]

So what's your thoughts on the newly revealed DLC 'mons?

(I've done the other DLC 'mons already, so I'll be tackling the Teal Mask 'mons here. Like the Terapagos review, this is being written before the DLC and thus my opinions might change a bit with future context.)

All of the 'mons from this DLC seem to be based on the Momotarō legend, which is about a child born from a peach who teams up with a talking dog, pheasant and monkey to fight some oni (or ogres). While Ogerpon's name suggests it's based off the oni in the myth, it also appears to be the peach itself, or possibly representative of Momotarō himself—note the stem on the head, the leaf-like shapes on the body, and the sandal-like leaves on the feet.

While we don't know what its face looks like quite yet, we can see a bit of it in this artwork; it appears to have black on the outside of its face to match its legs, large eyes with eyelashes, and spikes around its face along with a pair of "ears" at the top.

Visually, I do like the mask; the crystalline accents are cool and the overall design of it, from the leaf shapes to the expression and crescent chin, all look pretty neat. The brown draws attention to the face without being distracting, and the whole concept is pretty unique.

What I'm not sure about is the anatomy. The hand and arm holding the mask in the second artwork looks weird and formless, and it's a bit hard to figure out what's going on with the leaves around the head as well. The two symbols on the body also feel extraneous; the circle is barely visible and the flower-like shape seems like it wants to parallel the shape of the mask but doesn't quite manage it. Regardless, this is a pretty interesting 'mon.

Okidogi (side note: love the names for these guys) is okay enough. I like the expression and general threatening look, though obviously this more anthropomorphic approach might not appeal to everybody. The patterning is interesting, and the eye scars matching the "scarf" are a nice touch.

However, its big problem is the colors. I don't know why they picked these as we don't know its typing yet, but honestly, they're downright ugly. The green and the black are almost the same brightness, resulting in the colors looking muddy. Meanwhile, the magenta accents don't even remotely go with the green. I get that the magenta.... thing is on all three of these guys and they didn't want it to share an accent color, but why not do something less clash-y, like a yellow or red (which would also keep it from sharing colors with Ogerpon)? And if you gotta go green, at least go with a bright lime green or something less muddy.

Munkidori at least has a significantly better palette than Okidogi, but it still suffers from some strange stylization and proportions. Look at those weird little pointy angular fingers, or the way the entire body is just a shapeless cone. I don't know if I mind it, per say; something about the expression and personality are pretty fun, and the headband placement being accented by the magenta on the "socks" is nice. It just really doesn't fit visually with the other two is all.

Speaking of not fitting visually, Fezandipiti is again stylistically different than the other two; it's much more realistic in terms of the animal it's based off of, and it looks the most like a Pokemon in that respect.

And, in general, I think it's the best designed of the three. The brown accents are pleasant and go well with the shared magenta and black; the yellow on the head is a bit add when that could've just been more brown, but it's otherwise solid.

I also like how the body looks like a kimono of sorts, with the magenta things forming the sash and the white markings forming a neckline. It's subtle enough to be there but not feel forced or un-animalistic. There are some other interesting details in there too, such as the forked tail (which matches the eye wattles, which in turn likely reference the wattles on male common pheasants) and the shape of the beak and feet. Overall, this one's pretty nice.

As a whole, this group is okay. The Momotarō theme is obvious and works well, but the visual styles are all over the place despite the attempts at forming shared visual elements between the main three. The actual designs are also a mixed bag—Ogerpon and Fezandipiti are strong, Munkidori is relatively bland outside of its strange stylization, and Okidogi has a terrible palette that screws up an otherwise okay design. A mixed bag, but an interesting one none-the-less.

[loserreinawriter]

Can I get a Jess Black fluff? I always imagine that once Jess let's people into her life she becomes much more softer and touchy, especially with Dep since they met

The Heart Of The Huntress

Jess Black X GN Deputy reader

Fluff- 1.1K words

This isn’t as long as I wish it was, but I think it’s fitting enough given the theme! Sorry for the wait <3

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

It was always so clear to the Deputy when they first met Jess Black that if there was one thing the woman had, it was one hard and cold shell. It didn’t mean she lacked the ability for openness, no. She could be open and vulnerable, even if indirect about it. It seemed all was laid out before the Deputy when they went on to help her defeat The Cook, her story leading the path of their journey and soon enough the anger Jess felt towards the sadistic man had burned It’s way into the Deputy. It was sickening. It was enough to make even the strongest stomach churn with the upset it caused. If there was something Jess Black deserved, it was the right to be cold after all she’d been through.

The Deputy remembered the look on her face when she’d gotten her revenge. It wasn’t enough, it never had been. Her revenge was the first step to being able to heal, but that was going to be a hell of a trip for her to do alone. how much they wanted to reach out, just to place a single hand on her shoulder but they knew better. She didn’t seek their comfort, and they didn’t need to make this more uncomfortable for her than it already was. They didn’t know each other enough then but that sparked an idea in the Deputy. She sparked a light in the Deputy, and they could excuse it as wherever they wished but they knew from that moment on. They enjoyed her company, they wanted her with them.

So the Deputy kept her around, of course they did. A skilled woman like herself, her witty comments were enough to make them smirk and it sometimes even brought out a small laugh while the pair were supposedly undercover. It never gave them away, they were too good. They always had been, but it made it so much more enjoyable. She was truly one of their favorite people to do this with, their joint strategy of stealth and takedowns, Jess watching the Deputy’s back as the Dep went through each outpost and mission given to them. They worked wonderfully together.

The pair soon found themselves together at the end of a long day, seated comfortably at a campfire somewhere in the county. It didn’t really matter where they ended up, though they both tended to avoid the Henbane. It felt more private without the bliss tainting their fresh air. And that’s where they were at that fateful sunset, seated beside each other with Peaches across, sleeping soundly while the two watched over the county from a high up mountainside view. They were in a good enough spot to see trouble, and possibly even shoot it down if it was close enough.

The wind very slightly picked up for the pair, pushing Jess’ hair all around her face as it couldn’t escape her lifted hood. The grin that dawned on the Deputy’s face was enough to earn a playful shove from the woman, the pair laughing together as Jess reached up and pulled her hood down.

The soft stare from the Deputy was unintentional. She looked so much more free.. so comfortable. A smile adorning her features as those teal eyes watched over the county, one hand reached down to lightly stroke through Peaches fur. Her mouth moved as she voiced her opinions so openly, so strong in everything she said and declared. The huntress was unaware of the Deputy’s admiration of her growth and just.. her. They didn’t think they’d see the day she’d be so comfortable with them, it almost made all this fighting worth it.

They must’ve been staring for much longer than they thought, however, because within a second those teal orbs were now facing their way, a look of questioning on the woman’s face as she lightly jabbed at their shoulder.

“Earth to the grinning gunslinger, did you hear me? Or is this just how you take a conversation now? Jeez, I know silent and deadly is our thing, and silence is your entire vocabulary but I didn’t think you’d take it to this extent.”

The jab to the side didn’t hurt and helped pull the Deputy from their gaze much quicker, looking almost sheepish before just laughing it off with a chuckle and shoving her back. Their playful banter had become a daily occurrence, if it weren’t for the comments on the Deputy’s weapon choice Jess managed to find something about them to pick some fun at. She knew they could take the playfulness with her and it felt so.. refreshing. Their entire relationship, whatever it was, was refreshing. They always found time for each other, even after the most eventful and tiring days. Even when the Deputy ended up in the Hope County Jail Medical room for a full day and night, they forced Jess into a trivial card game. One where the rules escaped both of them. It was so much more than a partnership against the resistance now, they were truly something together. It didn’t need a name, they didn’t need any type of label for their friendship. They were closer than anyone knew, and that was perfect for them.

“Sorry. Miss what you said, my bad?” The Deputy’s head turned to look over the county once again as they smiled, feeling Jess shift on the bench they shared before they felt her against their arm. They didn’t flinch or move, but their gaze shifted immediately back over to her as their smile remained. She had leaned against them. Her head falling to rest on their shoulder. A silent gesture, one of many the pair had shared together. It was always so shocking when she made any attempt at being physical with the Deputy, but it was always accepted. It was becoming more of a common occurrence now and it made the pair feel a sense of warmth they couldn’t find beyond each other.

The Deputy’s shoulder tensed just enough to keep her upright as they tilted their own head to rest atop of hers, the pair letting out soft breathes as they settled into silence and their new position. It seemed the night followed their peaceful gesture as night fell over them, the dark blanket of the deep blue sky pulling over them as the sun settled away beyond the mountains. The twinkling of the stars begin to poke out and shoot their winks down playfully to them. They knew they’d remain here until the moon’s rays were coming over and above them and neither could complain, they’d find their way to a bunker or safety once they decided to do so. For now, their companionship was enough for them both, and contentment had settled into them both.

[irxnmaiden]

{{ whenever there’s an event of any kind (irl or elsewhere), my design student/fashion/styling fanatical lil brain immediately hyperfixates, so w/o further ado: Jasmine’s look(s) for the event of the season, the #ROUGELUNEWEDDING !!  (and yes i went overboard af) }}

forewarning: lots of reference pics below:

~while Jas has a very laid-back fashion sense about her, and has never really been one to doll herself up, there are a few occasions for which she will go the extra mile: weddings, being at the top of the list. Adding to the fact this is the wedding of a dear friend and in Kalos of all places, she just had to bump it up a notch! (for all intensive purposes, Valerie is stealing all credit (I hc them as being somewhat of acquaintances) but let it be known that between Jimmy Choo, Philip Treacy, Tiffany, Alexander McQueen and many others, miss ma’am is styled for the gods):

For the main event, it’s very important for Jasmine not to have a silhouette that teeters too close to the edge of “bridal”, so a maxi dress would be the perfect choice in this scenario. The teal/royal blue paired with the puff sleeves is enough of a statement, without being too distracting from the woman of the hour.

The pillbox hat adds a nice touch, giving the ensemble more of a Kalosian flair.

To balance the look’s essence of drama, simpler accessories would be ideal: the cooler tones of the dress are benefited greatly by silver or white-gold accents, as well as crystal or white pearls. (there’s also a slight floral motif going on, to fit with the wedding’s venue!)

(the way i have the earrings and plexi mini bag bookmarked for myself...)

As far as hair and make-up, Jas isn’t too fussy with anything more complex than the basics. A soft glam approach would be taken here—light blush, nude pink lip, soft smokey eye with hints of peach, and thin liner. Her signature winged pigtails would be ditched for a regal high pony: basically, Ariana during that one Grammy Awards she looked so sickening at. 

Inevitably, Jasmine would want to switch from the glam, and so for the reception, she’d change into something a little more her style. This McQueen tie-shouldered mini dress is something she’d legit wear 24/7 (like I sought it out specifically because it just screams JASMINE!!). It’s comfortable, but with enough construction going on that it isn’t at all lifeless.

Accessory-wise, she’d swap the crystals for pearls, their versatility complimenting the warm hues of the outfit. 

The move from colder hues to warmer ones is symbolic in a way, although Jasmine doesn’t have much time to mull over all that: she’s just thrilled to be here to see Serena wed the love of her life!!

(the earrings and mini dress will be returning to Johto with her sorry Val)

[vennilavee]

sunkissed

pairing: levi x reader (moon/stars universe) ft kaiya and rina

summary: rina peach's beachy birthday weekend!!

warnings: none at all, just a cute summer drabble

word count: 1810

Kaiya has never been very fond of the beach. She is very much like Levi in that sense- they both would prefer to either stay home or go to the park rather than allow the potential for sand to hide in the crevices of their bodies. After all, seagulls are a nuisance and it’s not like you can even see animals other than those pesky birds.

At least according to Kaiya’s speech about why she did not want to go to the beach last weekend. But it was Rina’s birthday, and unlike her older sister…. Rina loves the beach. She loves poking her feet in her sand and feeling the salty ocean water brush over her chubby legs. Her specialty is building sandcastles and she had sneakily asked if she could bury her daddy in the sand.

To which you had said maybe. And Levi had sent you a sneaky glare.

You can vividly remember the first time you brought baby Kaiya to the beach. She’d been a year old, after you and Levi had done extensive research on what sunscreen would be best for Kaiya. She looked so cute that day, in a bright orange bucket hat with blue starfish on it, a blue swimsuit and tiny orange crocs.

It took you nearly fifteen minutes to get out of the house, because you were too busy showering her with kisses and taking photos of her first beach day.

While she had been all smiles on the way to the beach, her expression had quickly turned sour when you had tried putting her feet in the water. Her lips parted ever so slightly to let out a stream of wails and her eyes leaked tears. She was trying her best to avoid her feet touching the water with all of her tiny might.

Kaiya hated the sand even more, if that was possible. She glared at the sand stuck in between her toes and Levi had only looked smugly at you. As if to say ‘I told you so’.

And he had.

But today, Rina is tugging Kaiya’s hand impatiently, wanting to splash around in the water with her big sister. Kaiya is hesitant, warily eyeing the water and looking at Levi and then Rina.

“Oh, fine,” Kaiya sighs, “Only for five minutes.”

“Yay!” Rina cheers and does a little dance before running off towards the water (with Kaiya and Levi on her heels).

You can’t help but watch Levi’s golden skin glisten in the sun as he gets farther away from you. His shoulders flex as he jogs after his girls, and you sigh happily before rubbing sunscreen on your arms.

You had rubbed sunscreen into Rina’s skin while Kaiya had insisted on doing it herself. Levi had wordlessly asked you to rub his back, which you had gladly done.

But not before squeezing his bicep indulgently, because damn, your man looks good.

You brought a book with you to read (and Kaiya had as well. She had stated firmly that she plans to read on the beach during this weekend trip.)

Your gaze travels from your book to immediately zero in on the girls and Levi from the tops of your sunglasses. Rina’s giggles are contagious and filter through the salty breeze, tucking away in your eardrum and you can pretty much hear Kaiya grumbling from all the way out here.

Setting your book aside, you decide to join your family in the water. You adjust your baby blue swimsuit, making sure all of your bits are covered, and make your way over. Your jumbo sized umbrella, beach towels and cooler are close enough that you can keep an eye on it from the water.

“Mama! You come,” Rina beams, reaching for you from Levi’s arms.

“I did, peach,” you reply, scooping her up. She’s getting so big, she’s already four. Rina is no longer the small baby who used to waddle around the house clumsily, she’s now old enough to run through the water and splash her older sister.

Levi pecks your lips in greeting while Kaiya dramatically gags.

“On Rina’s birthday weekend? Ugh, gross,” Kaiya rolls her eyes. Levi splashes her playfully with his foot and Kaiya gasps.

“Wow, watch out, daddy.”

“Ya, daddy, watch out! Watch out!”

“Oh, alright. I surrender,” Levi says, holding his hands up.

“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” you murmur, nudging Kaiya’s shoulder. She tries to scowl, but she can’t hide her smile from you.

“Yeah, it’s nice. I guess.”

“Oh, you guess? How lucky for us,” Levi teases, ruffling her head of dark hair.

“Daddy! I did my hair and you’re making it messy!” Kaiya pouts, messing her hair up again.

“It not messy!” Rina protests, “It nice!”

Kaiya gives her a toothy smile in response, to which Rina mimics.

“Mama, can we have some drinks? You brought those peach ones, right?” Kaiya asks with hopeful eyes.

“Of course I did. You think I’d forget?”

You and Levi had taken extra measures to hide the cake that you both had baked for Rina’s birthday in the mini-fridge of the cottage that you were staying in for the weekend. In fact, it was Kuchel’s little cottage by the sea- Levi came here as a teenager and a young adult. And you can remember the first time he brought you here, too.

Kuchel will be arriving tomorrow to join the celebration, but tonight it was just your little family.

“Kiki,” you whisper from the corner of the kitchen, “Kaiya. Kaiya!”

“Yes, mama?” she whispers back.

“Will you please get Rina and your daddy and bring them outside to the deck? The cake is ready,” you reply and Kaiya nods, running off to find her sister and her dad.

The small deck has been decorated with shell themed balloons and streamers of gold and green (Rina’s current favorite colors) in the last two hours, while she was napping and while Levi had kept her entertained before that. You can hear her peals of laughter approaching closer and closer and you make sure to have your phone ready when she sees the setup you and Levi created for her-

And she gasps with wide eyes before squealing happily and running around the table decorated with teal lace to stare at the carefully curated mermaid themed cake that took hours for you to finish up.

“Mermaid! For my birfday, mommy?” Rina gasps, bouncing on the heels of her feet.

“Happy birthday, Peachy,” you beam at her and kneel for her to run into your arms for a big hug.

“Thank, mama,” Rina says, “Daddy, Kaiya! Wook cake! Come hug!”

She’s always been very affectionate. Levi says she gets it from you.

“Happy birthday, Rina Peach,” Levi murmurs, kissing her hair, “I’m so happy that you’re happy and healthy.”

Rina only looks at him with your eyes.

“Happy birthday, Peachy peach,” Kaiya says, jumping with her, “We gotta sing Happy Birthday! And then you blow out your candles and make a wish!”

“Make wish! Make wish!” Rina says excitedly, her dark hair shining with the sunset. Kaiya leads the charge in Rina’s birthday songs while Rina smiles brightly at you and Levi. It brings a few tears to your eyes and Levi tugs your fingers in his subtly.

Your girls are getting so big. Levi still remembers when Rina barely fit in the palm of his hands, when she came into the world so quietly. When fear filled his heart.

Seeing Rina blowing out her candles (with some help from Kaiya) makes his heart warm. Kaiya is getting so tall- he can tell she might be taller than him someday soon. Kaiya’s eyes glisten and shine, reflecting bits of his own steel grey when she looks at him.

He’s feeling contemplative. You can tell.

Once you finish with your pictures of everyone, Levi cuts slices of cake for everyone to eat. Rina most definitely stuck her fingers into her slice of cake but now, she is seated in his lap as she tries to feed herself (but ultimately leans back against his chest for him to feed her). Kaiya sits in between you and Levi.

It’s quiet, the sound of the waves against the shore vibrating around you as the close of Rina’s birthday draws close. The summer breeze drifts into your hair and you spot goosebumps on Kaiya’s arms.

“Gonna get some blankets, my little fruits. Be right back,” you murmur, patting her leg.

“Hey! I’m not a fruit!”

By now, the moon is shining brightly in the night sky and the stars along with it, and Rina is fast asleep in Levi’s lap while Kaiya is laying across your lap with tired eyes. You’ve all moved inside the cottage once the summer chill settled in to watch a movie.

Rest assured, you’re dozing off, too.

You hear Levi call your name. You hum in response and open your eyes blearily. It appears you’ve been asleep for longer than expected, because Kaiya is no longer in your lap and Rina is not in Levi’s arms.

“I put the girls to bed,” Levi murmurs, “C’mon. Let’s get to bed.”

“You gonna carry me or what?�� you joke, but before you can get your feet on the floor, he scoops you up in his arms and pecks your forehead.

“How romantic,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, alright,” Levi rolls his eyes.

“Did you check the locks?”

“What do you take me for? An idiot?”

“I’m just making sure, okay-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, patting his cheek adoringly, “Hurry, I’m tired and my feet ache.”

“How lucky for me.”

“The girls had fun today,” you murmur, rubbing lazy circles over Levi’s chest, “Did you?”

Levi hums, fingers trailing up and down your arm tiredly. “I like the sea, despite what you think.”

“You don’t like the beach. You hate finding sand in your-”

“Yeah, I hate the beach, but the sea is nice.”

You chuckle, pressing your lips to his throat.

“I’m surprised Peach went to bed so quickly. But she must be tired from running around in the sun with Kaiya all day,” Levi muses.

“Probably. Your mom can run around with Rina and Kaiya tomorrow at the beach. We should do boozy brunch in the meantime.”

“Why? So you can get drunk off your ass from two mimosas while your daughters are in the ocean?”

“Okay, first of all, that was a joke. Second of all, two mimosas? You think that much of me?”

“Am I wrong?”

“I’m going to sleep,” you huff dramatically, “Give me a kiss goodnight.”

Levi gives you a little more than a kiss goodnight when he pecks your lips, licking into your wet, warm mouth until your eyes flutter shut and he presses himself on top of you to envelop you in his embrace.

tags: @simpingmaize @kentobean @captainchrisstan @alrightberries @celestidarling @regalillegal @castellandiangelo @bakuhoesworld

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.09

Paradise Lost

10/09/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,013

Warnings: fluff, depression, anxiety, implied sex

A/N: Hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess. Life got me busy and I didn’t get to put this out when I wanted to. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

“Hello? Yes, how can I help you?” Her voice is still a bit on the nasal side, her hair an ice blonde. Her eyes are emerald green and her lips as red as a ruby.

She doesn’t seem to remember you one bit. It has been ten months and you’d only met her once.

“I’m Y/N? I have a meeting with Mr. Swan?” You muster up all your courage after that initial hesitation, intent on completing your mission.

“Oh, right. The no-show.” She gets up and gestures for you to follow.

Quickly you hurry to catch up, watching the way she swings her hips as she walks, the movement exaggerated by the tight gray pencil skirt she wears.

She’s surprisingly fast on her six-inch heels and you’re dumbfounded by the skill.

Stopping at the end of a long modern hallway with black marble walls, the secretary knocks on the pale wooden office door, waiting a moment for response.

“Come in, Kay.” A surprisingly young male voice speaks.

Kay steps in, stopping with her back against the open door as she leans her weight on the doorknob.

“The no-show is here for you.” Kay says, voice casual and relaxed despite the fact that she’s speaking to A.I.M.’s CEO.

“Oh? Hi!” He greets as you cross into view.

He’s most definitely young. Mid to late twenties. No way he’s older than thirty, with short and carefully styled brown hair, brown eyes, and browned peach skin. His chin is blanketed in rough stubble and two dimples crease his cheeks as he moves towards you with his hand extended.

“Y/N, right?” He asks and you quickly take his hand and shake it.

“Yes.” You agree. “Nice to meet you.”

“That’ll be all, Kay. Can you order my lunch for two o’clock?” He asks, releasing your hand but gesturing the red modern armchair in front of his long glass desk.

“Will do.” Kay agrees and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Mr. Swan rounds his desk, long and lithe, moving to sit in his chair and takes a moment to breathe in and release it slowly, as if it’s the first time he’s sat down today. When he’s settled, he gives you a smile and places his hands on his lap.

“So, you’ve been out of town for ten months?” He wastes no time getting to his point. “Unfortunately, Y/N, I don’t have a position open for you. We’ve just filled all the open positions in marketing and taken on all the interns we could use.

“If you wanted the job, you should have shown up. You were hired. I can’t save your spot just because you decided to take an extended vacation.”

“I-” Your heart is pounding, your blood boiling. There’s a buzzing in your head because you know you can’t say what you want to. You can’t tell him that you were stranded on an island with Bucky because it’s a secret. Not that he was stranded, but that you were there.

“I’m sorry to waste your time. Really. If you’d like to reapply, we’ll keep your application on file and should a spot open up, we’ll keep you in mind.” Mr. Swan assures you.

“Mr. Swan,” You begin, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Tight and humorless, it’s more a desperate gesture than anything else. “I didn’t extend my vacation, there were problems with my passport and travel visas. I was stuck in an airport for several weeks before they put me up in a hotel until they could figure out what the problem was.

“I-I’m not asking you to give me the same position. I know that I’ve lost the chance for that, but if you could give me a job anywhere in your company, I can research my butt off.” You say rashly. “I’m not an idiot. Research and Development would be a good fit too, or maybe consumer research?”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “I don’t have anything for you. Begging for a job won’t get you one.”

“Mr. Swan-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do. A company to run. And I’ve given you my answer.” Mr. Swan rises, reaching to refasten the button on his suit jacket. “If you don’t mind? I humored you because Pepper gave me a call to hear you out, but I’ll have to be more wary granting favors for friends. If you’ll excuse me?”

You don’t even have the chance to get up before he’s moving around to the door. He opens it up and leaves, disappearing to the right.

A moment later, Kay moves in and stops when she sees you.

“Oh, you’re still here? You should leave before he comes back. He’s an asshole but that was him being nice.” She explains, moving to his desk to drop off a thick yellow notebook.

When she turns, she stops by the end of the desk, looking at you pointedly.

You get up without word, moving out of the office feeling like there’s fire in your veins.

Loading the elevator, you turn and press the ground floor button. The cold air that blows from the ceiling sends a chill down your spine and it’s the push you need to knock you out of your daze.

As the doors shut and Kay takes her seat behind her desk, your rage overflows into one loud exclamation of, “Fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“How long is this gonna take?” Bucky wonders, turning to Sam who sits beside him, relaxed as he lounges in his seat.

Bucky isn’t so unconcerned, sitting straight with one hand on his bouncing leg and the other balled into a fist on the table.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Barnes, do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Fury asks, strutting towards them before stopping at the head of the table.

“Yes.” Bucky says, no fear or regret in his voice. “Y/N had a meeting with the head of A.I.M. today, to see if she could possibly get her job back.”

“Guess the money in her bank isn’t enough incentive to stop working?” Sam guesses.

Bucky shakes his head. “She wants to get back to normal if she can. We both do. But she’s having a harder time than I am. This means a lot to her.”

“Unfortunately for you and Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid Augustus Swan is a grade A asshole. I don’t think she’s going to come away from that meeting happy.” Fury says, pulling out his own chair to sit.

“Then we need to make this quick.” Bucky nods, leaning both elbows on the table.

“I’ll dictate how long this debriefing will run, Sergeant Barnes. Rush me and I’ll keep you here all night.” Fury threatens.

As Bucky frowns, ready to argue, Sam meets his eyes and as he swings his chair around to face him, he shakes his head to calm him and then swings it back to face Fury.

“What do you wanna know?” Bucky sighs, leaning back once again, defeated by Fury’s iron stare.

“Well, for starters, when did you notice that things weren’t exactly right on that plane?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“You were lucky.” Sam admits, walking beside Bucky at a casual pace despite Bucky’s desire to be with you already. “If that stewardess hadn’t moved you and your Mrs. to the front of the plane, you’d both be dead.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees, wringing his hands with anxiety. “Were you able to find him? The stewardess’s husband and son?”

“In Texas. They were in contact with the airline but even the airline didn’t know what happened so, Ross filled in the blanks without actually owning up to the responsibility of it. Blamed it on malfunctioning engines.

“They didn’t take it so well. They’ve been paid off, but that hardly makes up for the years that kid is going to live without his mother.” Sam grieves, feeling for the family.

“I’m glad they at least know.” Bucky admits. “Y/N will be glad to know they’re able to mourn her properly. She won’t be happy but at least her heart will ache a little less.”

“She’s a good woman, Bucky.” Sam reaches over, clapping his partner once on the shoulder. “But she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Bucky’s mouth turns into a small hesitant smile, shaking his head.

“Like, she’s got you whipped, dude. Whipped!”

As Sam laughs, Bucky follows, relaxing a little and grateful for the levity.

“You say that like it’s bad thing.” Bucky throws at him, but Sam takes his hand back and gestures his denial animatedly.

“No, I never said that. Honestly, anyone who says being whipped is a bad thing obviously never got it right.” Sam shrugs.

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” Bucky pretends to be thoughtful. “How’s that possible when you’re single as hell?”

Sam stops walking, fixing Bucky with a glare before he nods, looking betrayed.

“Alright, I see how it is. Don’t forget I owe you a tracking chip, Barnes. I will literally implant one in your ass.” Sam threatens, but Bucky can only laugh as he stops to look back at him.

Sam smiles, and for a moment Bucky can swear he looks almost grateful to have him back. Although he’s opted to take a break, a long one so that he can build a life with you before he goes back to work, he suddenly feels eager to return and really get to know his new partner.

“Will you come over for dinner next week? Once we’ve had a chance to settle in?” Bucky takes a step towards the three-story townhouse, a lovely pale sandstone exterior with dark gray highlights around the windows and teal front door.

You’d chosen the color specifically and though you didn’t explain it, he knows you’d picked it because it reminded you of the waters around the island.

You had loved your morning swims. It’s only natural that you miss the water if not the isolation. And yet, now that you’ve both been back, he sees you timidity as you walk out into the world and it makes his heart ache.

“Depends.” Sam quips, “You cookin’? I don’t wanna get food poisoning.”

Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “No. Y/N will be cooking. She’s got it all planned and the menu all thought up. She’s pretty excited about having you over actually.”

“Then I’ll definitely be there. Tell her I’m looking forward to it and I hope things are okay with A.I.M.” Sam’s well wishes give Bucky a warm feeling in his chest.

His two worlds are one in this moment and he appreciates the generosity that Sam has had welcoming you into their group.

Bucky wants to keep you as far away from the danger as possible but seeing as you’ve already been blown up on a plane because of him, he’s grown accustomed to the idea that he can’t ever keep you one hundred percent safe. He’ll have to take it day by day.

“Thanks, Sam. That means a lot. I’ll tell her. Hey and uh…maybe you should ask Sharon to come? Y’know…”

Sam quirks an eyebrow, his face full of wonder at Bucky’s audacity.

“…as your date?” He finishes, an amused smile overtaking his handsome face as he turns up and takes the steps two at a time.

“That’s not funny, Barnes!”

“It wasn’t supposed to be!” Bucky calls back then wiggles his eyebrows at Sam as he shuts the door.

Eager to find you, he drops his keys on the unpacked boxes by the door, stripping off his coat slowly as his ears listen intently to the sounds of the house.

The inside is simple, a dark gray concrete floor makes up the foyer that then shifts into stunning dark oak hardwood flooring. The windows are large with thin frames made of black steel. Immediately after the foyer to the right is the living room, two bright red sofas—one full and one loveseat—are pushed against the far wall, an unassembled coffee table half pulled from its box. A rolled up decorative rug lays on top of the larger sofa.

An open concept, the dining room follows the first floor with a decently sized dining table lighter than the floors with mid-century dining chairs in pale peach. Two of them are still wrapped in plastic.

On the other side of the dining table, is the black concrete kitchen island with maple cabinets. A black stainless-steel fridge and matching chef grade six burner stove are already hooked up an in use, a small pot of what smells like alfredo sauce burning and emitting the first puffs of black smoke.

Bucky drops his jacket and races for it, pulling the pot away from the flame then shutting it off.

“Shit…” He sighs, taking the pot to the sink then freezing when he sees cold noodles, all mushed and sticky and obviously overcooked thrown in what he can clearly see is a small fit of frustration from you.

He takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he thinks about what he’ll possibly be able to say to make this day better for you. There has to be something that he can do.

As he waters down the sauce and begins to dump it, he makes up his mind.

He cleans the dishes first, then makes for the fridge to see what else you’ve bought to cook.

He finds the chicken that would have been for the pasta you were making and takes that out along with a few tomatoes, sharp cheddar, and beautiful red and yellow peppers.

Dinner is quick work, and though Bucky isn’t sure what he’s making will be very appetizing, he pours his heart and soul into this meal hoping that it’ll heal a bit of the darkness this day has obviously brought.

He sets the table and as he places the down two wine glasses, he suddenly hears a swell of music upstairs.

It’s beautiful, this melody, and it reminds him of a song that he knows he must have heard. There’s a full string orchestra, woodwinds, and a deep bass below. It all sounds beautiful, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s melancholic and he can only imagine the state you’re in.

Deciding to get you down here before he pulls the wine from the fridge, he heads up the stairs.

The second floor has three bedrooms two on the left and the master on the right with a master bath and the second full bath sharing the same wall.

Although the inner walls of the house are made up of insulated and soundproofed drywall, the walls of each room on the outside are exposed sandstone brick, slightly darker than that of the exterior.

Bucky makes his way to the last door on the right, listening for a moment but the music is coming from the third-floor attic space.

Attic is used as a loose term. The space is actually completely open, nothing within it yet save for the large radio system that you brought from your place. The high-tech turntable is plugged into sturdy speakers that almost make it sound as if the orchestra is in the attic with you.

Bucky steps up onto the landing and spots you standing at the far end staring up at the large skylight as the sky grows darker with dusk’s quick approach. You have your arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re cold, the large sweater you’re wrapped in making you look soft and huggable.

You take his breath away, every time he sees you like this. You’ve always been beautiful but seeing you in clean clothing that isn’t torn or saturated in sea salt makes his heart skip a beat. He likes you looking cared for. You’ve gained a healthy amount of weight since you left the hospital and there is nothing sexier than how you look now.

The stretchy tights you wear underneath your sweater hug your curves tight, thick woolen socks on your feet.

If you hear him come in, you don’t show it. Your hands are clasped around the sleeves of your sweater, clinging tightly as you struggle with whatever you’re thinking.

Bucky needs to know what he can do, but he’s afraid to make it worse.

The only thing he can think of is to hold you, so that’s what he does.

He moves up behind you, waiting a moment before he places his hands on your shoulders then traces them down along the length of your arms. The way you have them crossed also brings his arms around your body.

As you melt against him, Bucky exhales the breath he’d been holding, kissing the side of your head as you shut your eyes and sigh.

“One of the things I hadn’t realized I’d missed being stranded on that island was music.” You tell him, voice conversational despite the grief you seem to still be processing.

“Me too.” Bucky admits, listening to the swell of music with new ears.

It gives him goosebumps.

“I guess things didn’t go well at A.I.M.?” Bucky probes gently, his lips pressed against your head as you continue to watch the sky through the skylight.

“I can’t exactly tell them that I was stranded on an island after my plane blew up.” You shrug. “Honestly, the guy was a pretty big jerk but, he’s right. They couldn’t exactly hold my position for me.”

Bucky sighs deeply, hating the disappointment in your voice. “You’ll find something, kitten. I’ll help you look.”

You shake your head. “I think maybe I should just take some time.”

“I think that’s a very good idea.” Bucky admits, his lips once again pressed to your head. He can’t seem to help himself. He wants to kiss you better, but he knows it’ll only do so much.

Both of you are aware just how much you’re struggling to get used to being back home.

You fall into silence, Bucky’s arms content to hold you.

Oh, shit. Dinner.

“I made you something to eat.” Bucky whispers, then drops his arms as you turn to look at him.

“Shit, the sauce!” You exclaim, fear making your eyes dilate.

“It’s okay, kitten. I took care of it.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I’m so stupid.” You whimper.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. Alright? Nothing to worry about.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles before lacing his fingers through yours to pull you from the room. “What do you think we should do with this space?”

He hopes you can’t see through his attempt to distract you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, looking back up at the space as he pull you down the stairs.

Bucky waits as you think, letting you lead the pace of conversation.

“We could just make it a multipurpose room.” You brainstorm. “You’ll need a gym? And I could use a space for reading.”

Bucky smiles, glad you’ve gotten your mind off your lost A.I.M. job, even if it is for a few moments.

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll have to get you a nice lounge chair and some bookshelves.” Bucky nods eagerly.

As he pulls you through into the dining room, he lets your hand go to pull out your chair.

“This looks so good, babe.” You gasp, eyeing the cheesy chicken on your plate, laden with tomatoes and peppers. “Thank you so much.”

Bucky watches you sit down, your voice breaking as you thank him and then you’re shoving your hands over your face as you sob.

He doesn’t need you to say anything and there’s nothing he can say to make it better. All he can do is drop to his knees and pull you into his arms, holding you tight as you let the stresses of the day spill out.

You bury your face against his neck, clinging to his shirt tight, somehow making Bucky feel more needed here than you ever did on the island.

“I’ve got you, kitten.” He whispers, squeezing you tight. “I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you going to do today?” Bucky whispers, eyes still shut.

He gives you a fright, making you jump with his sudden question and you turn to hide your face in your pillow as you laugh lightly.

“Holy fuck, Bucky!” You shout into your pillow and feel him shift beside you, his hand moving across your lower back. His hand over the sheets you’re using to cover yourself.

You turn to look at him, biting your bottom lip with playful anger.

“I’m sorry.” He laughs silently, puffs of air as he blinks slowly, like cat. Telling you he loves you without saying anything. “Serves you right for watching me sleep.”

“You’re so pretty though.” You tell him, reaching out to trace his nose from bridge to tip.

“Me?!” He asks, astonished by the news before he throws himself over you, grabbing your wrist as he goes to pin it up above your head.

Settling his weight on you, he breathes in and out heavily, enjoying the feel of you beneath him. With your wrist in his metal grip and his flesh hand squeezing your hip, you chuckle happily, licking your lips.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If I’m beautiful, what does that make you?”

“Normal?” You wonder, knowing he’ll refute any disparities you make in your self-assessment. He’s biased. He loves you.

“Perfection.” He whispers, and you shake your head because you knew it had been coming.

“Nobody’s perfect, Bucky.”

“You’re perfect for me.” He clarifies, and leans down to kiss your lips slowly, just a peck.

He holds it, staring into your eyes.

“Perfect with me.” He continues.

You smile, perfectly at peace.

“You never answered my question.” Bucky tells you, throwing himself onto his left side, keeping his right arm around your waist.

“What question?” You wonder, reaching over to stroke his hair.

“What are you gonna do today?”

“Oh.” You sigh. “You’re going in today, finally?”

“Just for the day. Getting acquainted with the new headquarters. No missions yet. But soon.” Bucky nods.

“I’m gonna have to get used to being here without you.” You turn onto your side and scoot in close, pressing your nose right up to the tip of his, shutting your eyes in subdued lamentation.

“I’m gonna have to learn to leave you behind too.” Bucky points out. “I’ve gotten used to having you nearby, kitty cat.”

You laugh. Reaching up to stroke his cheek. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“Remember when you woke up on the beach? Right after the plane crashed?” Bucky’s brow puckers, a little crease between his steel and ice eyes.

“I remember you yelling at me to move.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“You might as well have.”

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

“Yes you do.”

“Fuck. You’re right, I do.” He chuckles.

“Stop hurting my feelings, Barnes.” You pout.

He laughs, pulling you close again to kiss you.

“Mmm.” He mumbles, “Baby?”

“Yeah?” You pull back, catching your breath and pulling back to look at him.

“Why is it so damn hot in here?”

“I was cold.” You force a smile, too tight, too toothy. A downright look of guilt if ever Bucky saw one. “Too hot?”

“Not yet.” Bucky mutters, crawling over you again, his hands trailing down; one pushes your white long-sleeved shirt up to expose your tummy while his other hand slides down past the waistband of your sleep shorts. “But we can fix that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s exhausted. He didn’t know how much energy it would take to get back into the swing of things.

As he trudges along down the sidewalk, he passes a few people and they kindly look up and smile at him, waving when they recognize him.

His interview after his rescue seems to have changed the mind of most people in the city. He’s no longer the Winter Soldier, but Sergeant Barnes.

“Hi Sergeant Barnes. Nice night?” A lilting voice asks.

He looks up in search of its owner and finds a young brunette walking by him. Dressed in a tight silver cocktail dress with sparkling sequins along the bottom hem of the skirt and a black coat much thinner than she should need in tonight’s cold.

The flirtatious tilt of her head and the sparkle in her eyes leaves him in no doubt of her aim.

“It’ll be much better once I get back home to my girl.” Bucky tells her, turning to walk backwards a few steps as he waves her goodbye.

“Lucky lady.” She tells him, pulling her bag up higher on her shoulder.

“I’m the lucky one. Have a good night, Miss.” Bucky gives her a nod and turns to be on his way.

He’s not sure if it’s wrong that he feels it necessary to mention you whenever a woman pays him this kind of attention. There are plenty who have wished him a good night without the flirting that he carries on conversations with and manages not to bring you up.

It’s almost like he uses you as a shield.

As he reaches the steps of the house, he climbs them quickly and then waits by the door with his hand pressed over his heart.

That girl really made him anxious. He doesn’t like being seen like that. It’s invasive.

When his heart is steadier, he pulls out his keys and lets himself in.

There’s a rush of hot air that chokes him. He coughs, pulling at his collar as he reluctantly shuts the door and its influx of arid air.

He sheds as much of his outer clothes as he can. Blue jacket and the gray sweater beneath it leaving him in a plain red t-shirt.

“What the hell?” He gasps, dropping his outerwear on the floor before locking the door and venturing up the stairs.

The entire first floor is empty. Dark. The smell of whatever you had for lunch still filling the house. Grilled cheese?

“Y/N?” He calls, moving for the bedroom but he finds it empty. “Baby?”

There’s a sudden rush of wind, a flash of lightning from the third-floor stairs, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

It pulls his gaze up and he follows his instinct taking the stairs two at a time.

Since moving in, after spending each day taking care of one room of the house at a time, the attic is no longer empty.

As he reaches the landing, to his left is a small home gym. Each piece picked out by him, a punching bag, mats, weights, treadmill for you if you ever decide to use it. Bucky prefers to run outside.

On the right side of the room, your reading corner. Six shelves at least seven feet tall with a step ladder to reach the higher shelves. There’s a tea table, two comfortable padded chairs, and another deep enough that you could curl into it and sit all day reading without needing to get up.

There’s a reading lamp and a colorful carpet to make the space cozier and on across a small coffee table a lounging sofa for Bucky to lay on when you’re reading and he just wants to be by you.

On the far side of the room, directly under the skylight, he spots you on a platform bed you’d had set up for what Bucky had thought was sky-watching. He can see that he was right.

Your eyes are trained on the sky above, thunder clouds flashing and echoing around the house.

Around the bed you’ve set up what looks like a semi-circle of potted trees. A mixture of four-foot palms and Cycas, all surrounding the head of the bed.

Without a word Bucky makes his way towards you, stripping down to his briefs as he goes. When he reaches the bed, he finds you also in your underwear, sheets tossed aside as you lay with your head against the pillows and your eyes trained on the window.

He crawls in, stopping over you for just a moment to smile down at you and lean down to kiss your lips.

Your hands come up to caress his ears, then up to the back of his head.

“You cut your hair.” You observe, a glint in your eye that tells him you like what you see.

He lays beside you, looking up to see what you see, and he finds a strange sense of calm fall over him.

Placing his hands on his chest, he relaxes and then reaches down to take one of yours.

“So, this is what you’ve been up to with the trees?”

“Something didn’t feel right.” You admit. “I think I found the answer.”

The heat, the sound of thunder, the lightning overhead, and now with the jade leaves of these trees filling his line of sight, bucky can almost see himself back on the island. Back when it was just them and no one in the world could hurt either of you. Where life was much simpler. Wilder. And just a bit quieter.

Even though things have gotten better, this feels like the world of two where your love was born and nurtured.

“This is amazing.” Bucky admires, giving your hand a squeeze. “I think we should get married.”

You turn to look at him, eyes wide.

“Too soon?” He checks, turning to look at you too. “Marry me, kitten.”

Bucky watches you turn onto your side. He mirrors you, wrapping his arm around you.

“Whadya say?” He waits, heart pounding despite his calm exterior.

He feels your hand trail down his side, tracing the side of his thigh before you bring it around to his butt then without warning give his left cheek a nice squeeze.

“Not the left side!” He yelps.

“I will!” You agree, giddy and the happiest Bucky has ever seen you.

Somewhere past the burn of the spot where Sam had pierced him with that implant gun, past the pain and the throbbing, Bucky realizes you’ve just agreed to be his wife.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

The Critique of Manners Part VI

~Or~

An Attempt at an Objective Review of Emma (2009)... VOLUME TWO

Haha, bitches you didn't think I could wait a whole week did you? Nah, not me. and guys, I added to it--all total, it's 9,023 words now. this half of the review is 5,214. HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY WORDS FOR THIS THING? I'm not gonna split it into a third part, because I don't need to for picture limit purposes, but buckle in.

If you didn't catch it, read part 1 here

Here it is, the stunning conclusion to my Emma Adaptation Review series (but this isn't really the end because I plan on doing some rankings later). In this half of my review of BBC'S Emma (2009) we'll discuss Costumes and all the very specific things that I love about this version, and some things I don't like, and some things I'm here to defend.

Let's dive in!

Costumes

Generally I liked these costumes pretty well. They were designed and facilitated by Rosalind Ebbutt, also known for her work on PBS’s Victoria and Vanity Fair (1998). And her work is, as her filmography would suggest, by turns, great and so-so.

These costumes are definitely in line with the adaptation’s general aesthetic: warm pinks and golds, with mints emeralds and blues to cool it off a little, are the order of the day. I really appreciate that every character has a definite color palette. The tradeoff is that this adaptation is the WORST EVER offender for the Jane Fairfax Blue™ trope.

Daywear

Emma’s daywear is full of warm and muted colors. Salmon and magenta are commonly seen. I love that most of Emma’s daywear consists of sleeveless or short-sleeved gowns with wide-sleeved linen blouses underneath. It’s not a commonly seen aesthetic so it feels light and fresh. My favorite of Emma’s daywear dresses is the pale yellow with purple floral print.

There’s one other in particular that I love.

Emma’s blue, sleeveless dress. I love this because of HOW OBVIOUSLY it’s a reference to this portrait of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. I mean...

I’M NOT IMAGINING THIS, RIGHT? WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS? This is a REAL dress. They still have this exact gown of Princess Charlotte’s. It’s on display. It’s faded, but it’s the same dress.

Harriet has a fresh and innocent green, white and purple color scheme with healthy doses of peach and pink showing. I particularly like her white and purple floral print dress.

Mrs. Weston’s color palette varies, but leans heavily on tans and purples, which is very flattering, I must say, to Johdi May’s coloring and is really refreshing for Mrs. Weston who seems to get stuck in pinks and yellows a lot. No idea what’s going on with the laced-front dress though? This doesn’t quite read as authentic to me, but I do like that her first dress seems to be an apron-front.

I know I already said that this is the worst Jane Fairfax Blue™ offender, but guys I can’t stress it enough. WE ARE 5/5 ON DAYWEAR HERE. LOOK AT THAT. (Also of note, Jane 5 is one of Gwyneth Paltrow’s dresses from the '96 Emma.)

Mrs. Elton seems, at all times, to be wearing some form of pink, but I think I’m right in saying that the white day dress with the rose patterned bodice under the yellow and pink spencer is one of Jane’s dresses from P&P ’80. Can anyone confirm that? They did sneak in some Mrs. Elton Orange™ though, for Box Hill, and it’s worth noting that Mrs. Elton is the only lady who’s appropriately dressed on that occasion.

Isabella gets some understated day gowns that are very nice and also VERY “Jane Austen” in the sense that I feel like Jane Austen herself might have worn them.

Miss Bates, unfortunately is slapped with brown at just about every turn, but at least her “Nice” day outfit has some subtle leaf patterns, which is refreshing. Also Mrs. Goddard has a slappin’ cap. Love that.

Also, Harriet’s Grecian costume for the painting (upper right hand corner). What can I say, but that I love it. I love that it hints at the neoclassical influences on Regency fashion too. This is my favorite interpretation of the painting too.

Evening Wear

You know what I love about this version? It’s the first version of Emma where her gown for the Crown in Ball isn’t WHITE. I know, I know white was fashionable, but it’s just… it’s nice for not EVERY gown in a ball scene to be plain white friggin muslin and also, it’s not one she’s ever worn before, which is great.

Harriet does have only white evening gowns but that’s okay. My only complaint is that, specifically on her Crown Inn dress and in a lot of her costumes in general, the waistline seems just a little low. Hmm. I really like the pale blue pattern on her first evening dress though.

Mrs. Weston though. Woo. Look at those. She has a dark chartreuse gown with black lace trim that any other version would have put on Mrs. Elton, so you know from the dark tones that she’s a bitch. Not so with Emma '09, and that’s good. And her teal dinner number is a favorite of mine. I never paid much attention to her green and gold ball gown but it has some really beautiful, subtle leaf or maybe peacock feather patterns on it and I love that. My only problem is that there seem to be some fit issues. She’s got muffin top way too often. Her orange evening dress is a bit of a dud though, firstly, because it has long sleeves (which is an evening gown no-no) and the fabric slaps a bit too much of sari fabric for my tastes.

Jane, not only is put in blue with both of her evening gowns (although one is so pale it borders on white), ONE of them is another Emma ’96 repeat and not only that, it’s one of Jane Fairfax’s dresses in that film! Perhaps that’s enough to make it an homage, and I have to say, I think Laura Pyper wore it better.

Miss Bates only has one evening wear ensemble, but at least it’s cream and not brown.

Mrs. Elton’s gowns are surprisingly understated, and yet still seem to be annoyingly fussy and, what’s better? They’re not sickly green. One of them is actually a very pleasant mint.

Outerwear

Outerwear is roundly pretty great here. Emma’s primary choice of color for spencers is emerald/evergreen and one of them is Elizabeth’s Bennet’s from the 1995 P&P (though to be honest, I think Jennifer Ehle filled it out better.) I do love Mrs. Elton’s pink and yellow number with the slashed sleeves. Jane Fairfax’s only spencer is, you guessed it, blue, but her friend Miss Campbell has a rather fun mauve one.

There’s no shortage of pelisses and redingotes either. Harriet can be seen in one borrowed from Elinor Dashwood in the '08 S&S, Mrs. Weston has a rather fabulous purple one which she wears with the most delicious looking hat I’ve ever seen.

Emma has two. The first one is a great magenta number with military braiding (and I think she wears with it one of the brown slouch hats that Kate Beckinsale wore in the same role) and while the other pelisse is brown, they had the sense not to make her wear a hat with it that was also brown. Instead, they gave her a contrasting color. Good on ya, Rosalind!

Speaking of hats, I don't often single them out for commentary, but I want to here because… the hat authenticity is… kinda spotty. Let me show you.

Okay first of all, Emma may be a teenager in this pic on the upper left, but she is not dressed formally enough for her sister’s wedding (which is what’s going on in this scene) but at least her hat is pretty good. You can see the ribbons are on the inside of the hat here, which is as it should be… but she never wears this hat again. At any point in the series. Instead, we next see her in the one on the upper right and ye gads this is atrocious. WHY IS HER HAT NOT PINNED ON? IT’S SLIDING DOWN THE BACK OF HER HEAD. SOMONE FIX IT. PLEASE. But wait, there’s more. This kills me because these bottom two are so similar to the one she wore earlier (the correct one) but crappier looking. Jeez.

This is not a hat. It’s a peanut. You know who doesn’t have this problem? Harriet. She only has one sun hat but at least it’s correct.

I also wanna touch briefly on this ^ costume continuity issue.

WTF is this? She’s in the hall, her ribbon is contoured to the line of her dress; she goes into the drawing room and… it isn’t anymore? Wha happun?

I took more menswear screencaps for this version than any other version. And that’s because the men just have more outfits that are, y’know, different from each other.

Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight the first pic there and why I love it. This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding.

He also has a rather lovely blue evening waistcoat that I WISH I could have gotten better shot of (although I do believe it’s also worn by Henry Crawford in the '07 Mansfield Park, so for further reading…)

Mr. Weston finally gets to wear clothes that aren’t all brown! He only has ONE brown outfit. He gets PATTERNED waistcoats, one of them a rather spiffing blue and brown striped number. And he wears TROUSERS! Because he’s a gentleman, and he’s not that old and trousers are worn by fashionable gentlemen in this period!

You know who else gets to wear trousers and at least one fun waistcoat? Mr. Woodhouse. Check out that lovely Sunday Best™ waistcoat. The red striped one. That’s delightful.

John Knightley’s evening wear intrigues me. That’s a double-breasted jacket, and you know I’m not totally sure that’s very authentic for evening-wear of this period, but it is different. Unfortunately he also has a flared top hat and that is definitely not on for this period.

One of my favorite things about this version is that they don’t dress Mr. Elton as a clergyman all the time. Yes, he may be the vicar, but he’s also allowed to dress like a fashionable, handsome young man. So I’m really happy that he gets to flex his fashion muscles here.

And speaking of fashionable young men, FINALLY frank gets to be COLORFUL and his trousers are even tight enough. Both he AND Elton are often seen wearing TWO waistcoats, as I would expect them to, and even though Frank’s a dandy, he knows that flashiness is gauche so his pops of color are bright, but not in your face. His green and red waistcoats are always worn under more muted colors, and I just love it.

The only problems are… what’s with the turned-down waistcoat collars? There’s no precedent for this, in fact I think it’s directly contradictory to the style at the time, and also it makes the cravats look a bit unruly.

A Critique of Manners

A lot has been said about the manners in this adaption. Like, the actual manners, body language and facial expressions, specifically vis-à-vis Romola Garai.

And, oh yeah, there’s a lot to pick at here, but first I’d like to talk about the facial expressions.

I'm mostly gonna be talking out of my ass here, but this is my take, so if anyone can make a better argument against my points, I am listening, because I don't really like talking out of my ass and I like to be informed. That said...

I tend to be lenient on the… exaggerated facial expressions because, something I’ve noticed reading Austen’s works through the last several months is that Austen is very descriptive when it comes to facial expressions and I just find it hard to believe that people in the Regency Era never made exaggerated expressions like this.

I’ve heard a lot about how Garai’s Emma is not dignified or lady-like. But let’s think about the context of Emma Woodhouse – she’s never been in society. She’s only had a governess to teach her, and we know Emma’s always been sort of averse to being told what she can and can’t do. Emma is the highest ranking woman in her social circle (barring Isabella’s occasional presence). Emma doesn’t have to be ladylike. At 21, she’s already her local Lady Catherine. She puts a lot of stock in her position in society but, as Mrs. Elton will be the first to hypocritically point out, she’s very poorly behaved. I'd be very curious to see what would happen if Emma went to London for the season. Probably, she'd be seen, comparatively, as a country bumpkin. Can you imagine how she might get on in a sea of accomplished young ladies? She can barely handle having ONE rival with any kind of grace.

Austen never describes bodily movements of the kind we’re looking at when we watch adaptations, so why not have Emma’s body-language be un-ladylike in the conventional sense of the time? I’m not saying this to excuse the absolutely inexcusable (Frank’s head in her lap, kneeling on the sofa backwards etc.), but while Emma’s mannerisms aren’t exactly ladylike for her time, they’re not overtly masculine either (which was one of my biggest problem with Death Comes to Pemberly for example.)

Yes, there’s an ideal for manners. But we know real people didn’t always follow those ideals. In dancing for example, many dancing guidebooks of the day were full of repeated instructions not to be too loud or rambunctious when dancing. What this tells us is that people were doing just that, and probably quite a bit, too. I think that, while taking societal strictures into account, we shouldn’t totally discount the idea that people in the Regency weren’t really that different from us, and young people especially.

Now I’ve already mentioned some of the inexcusable aspects of interaction in this adaptation and they’re so notorious at this point, I don’t think that I really need to go over them much here. Although I will say: is it ridiculous to have Frank Churchill put his head in Emma’s lap? Yes. Did it make me more viscerally uncomfortable with the situation on Box Hill than any other version? Yes.

I was like, 14 when I watched this the first time. This was an effective way to telegraph to young people like me that Emma is being extremely inappropriate here in a way that no other version really managed to, even when I watched them when I was older and understood the period more. I’m far more acquainted with Regency manners than I was then, but to be honest – if they had been accurate with the manners here, when I was 14 I would not have understood what the big deal was. Is there merit in circumventing historical accuracy in favor of reaching a less-informed but still-interested audience? Yes, I think so. There were three other versions of this, at that point, that did this scene with more or less pristine manners. Not every version has to follow the manners of the time to-the-letter to be good. That’s my feeling on the matter.

There are things that do really bother me though. Like the idea that Harriet Smith doesn’t know how to spoon soup, for instance. As I said in my review for the Miramax version, table manners are pretty basic, there’s no reason Mrs. Goddard wouldn’t have taught Harriet this. It does provide a good moment to show Emma tacitly coaching Harriet and showing the trajectory in which this relationship will go, but personally I don’t think it was necessary—there are plenty of other ways that could be done.

Also: kids at the dinner table? I know this is part of building the familial atmosphere but it really does annoy me, because apart from building the familial atmosphere (which they do very well and frequently in other ways) it really didn’t need to happen, and it doesn’t add anything.

The Heart of Highbury

So, as I’ve hinted at throughout this review, the bread and butter of this adaptation of Emma is emotion. This version goes hard and heavy on showingthe relationships – Emma’s relationships with Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley, her father, her sister, her brother-in-law, Miss Bates; Jane’s relationship with Frank; Frank’s relationship with his father; The John Knightleys’ home life – and it illustrates things that can be surmised from just reading the story, but really draws your attention to them in ways that other adaptations just don’t.

It does this from the very beginning with the prologue which explains in detail (not just in quick exposition between characters) how Jane and Frank were separated from their families at young ages. We know now, from psychological study, that being taken away from their primary caretakers during their formative years is one of the most psychologically traumatizing things for a child. This is deeply important context which is explained in detail by the narrator in 2-3 large pages (in my Barnes & Noble anthology) in the book.

In the featurette on the houses, they talk particularly about Hartfield and the Woodhouses being the heart of Highbury and how they particularly wanted it to feel homey because Hartfield is Emma’s house and they wanted the audience to feel why everyone is so drawn to it, and to Emma; to me that is what they did with the whole adaptation in microcosm.

I usually talk a bit about the dancing and I'm going to here as well because this is maybe the most special dance scene in any Austen for me. Of course I'm going to link to Tea with Cassiane as usual because she knows what she's talking about and I don't. But I wanna add some comments. She gives this a pretty low rating in spite of a generally favorable commentary because of two big oopsies, the circle dance formation is one, and the other is I believe, an issue with the style of dance not matching the tune in Emma's dance with Knightley. Throwing out any objective technical analysis though, this is my favorite Ball in any Austen and it all comes down to the cornerstone of this adaptation--emotion.

All of the songs and dances were original compositions and choreography made for this adaptation. So they're not period per se, but the tunes at least are representative of how Regency dance music should sound. These dances are upbeat, and lively and, damn they look like fun. Everyone is excited here and it makes me understand why dancing was such a big thing. Best of all that excitement adds to the emotional charge of the scene. "The Ship's Cook" is the most fast paced dance and I'm glad they made this the dance where Elton snubs Harriet because it really hits for me just what Harriet would be missing out on if Knightley wasn't so fucking aptly named. In all other versions you get the insult, but the dance that's taking place is usually a Baroque walker so it doesn't seem terribly like she's missing out on much. Here, this is like not getting picked for kickball-- not only is it a slight that no one wants you on their team, but you miss out on even playing the game. Harriet looks so lonely, and her feeling of being out of place rolls off of Louise Dylan so forcefully it chokes me up just thinking about it because I've been there, man. I feel this shit. *dabs eyes*. Ahem. So, yes, when Knightley engages her for the dance the excitement the viewer feels is that much more forceful and Harriet's exuberantly starting to jump in when the timing is off and Knightley gently pulling her back, it just hits me in the feels center, guys. (I wanna take a moment to give a shout out to every camp counselor who ever partnered with me for any game at summer camp.) Emma's reaction too, is gold. Her genuine relief at Knightley swooping in is one of those great reminders that Emma is Harriet's friend, and she does care about her.

Finally on the dancing front, I wanna talk about Emma's dance with Knightley and why I prefer it to the one in the 2020 version. I already talked about this a bit in the 2020 review, so I'm gonna try and keep it brief. That shouldn't be too hard, because I'm probably mostly going to repeat a lot of what I've already said about Emma and Knightley in this version as a whole.

The big thing everyone loves about the Crown Inn dance in the 2020 is the yearning, the sexual tension, the quivering touches etc. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all of those things but... not all the time. Not in everything, and definitely not in Emma. Because Emma, to me, isn't about repressed sexuality or heated tension or seething passion. Emma and Knightley are the opposite of that, to me, really. One of my mutuals put it best, I think: "Emma and Knightley are more suited to stolen glances than hot touches."

In Part 1 I talked about how Knightley is Emma's comfort object. When Emma is out of sorts, Knightley re-centers her. It helps set up, and puts emphasis on, the crisis of the story in the last act--Emma not knowing what she has until [she thinks] she's lost it. Emma and Knightley are Friends to Lovers done as it should be. She is already so comfortable with him she doesn't even realize her own feelings. She just feels right with Knightley and that's what this dance is here to show you--a foreshadowing of matrimonial harmony.

The dance itself, of course, is always up to interpretation, because Austen never describes how it goes, just that Knightley asks Emma to dance and Knightley doesn't dance (barring charitable causes). If you prefer the sexual tension take, if that, to you is an improvement on Austen's story and gives you what you've always felt was missing, I'm glad that there is a version now that gives you what you've been looking for, but for me, I think the 09 approach hits closer their dynamic in the book.

Now do I do think the Emphasis on emotion maybe went a little too earnest in some places in this adaptation? Maybe. Just a little.

In my last review (1972) I went on a rather lengthy tirade about the scene where they turn Emma’s appeals to Harriet to exert herself and move on following Mr. Elton’s marriage into Emma guilting Harriet into thinking she’s a bad friend for being heartbroken and then throwing her into the situation most likely to rub salt in that particular wound.

In this version, while I love the emphasis they put on the stress Emma puts on her own guilt for being the reason for Harriet’s situation in the first place, I think it’s maybe a little too… much.

That’s the only way I can put it. I know I’ve just said that I think there should be a bit more expressiveness in period drama, but this doesn’t quite match the way I read it (Emma’s a bit less desperate in Austen’s prose. Very dedicated to helping Harriet feel better, but just a skosh more composed). I think she’s even crying in this scene.

While we’re here let’s go over to Box Hill ONE. MORE. TIME.

First of all, this is where this screenplay shines, in my opinion. This is the big turning point in the story and as such, should be a touchstone for the judgment of any adaptation. This sequence in the 2009 version is a perfect crystallization of everything I love about this version—namely that this is the version that, to me, most feels like someone read the book thoroughly, paid attention to what Austen was describing and then actually tried to convey it on screen. A lot of other versions sort of feel (to me), like the director glanced at the page and said “here’s what I want to convey in my version”. Insofar as making a piece of art goes, that’s good. Directors are artists as much as painters are and movies are their canvass, but it’s seldom that you find a director who honestly wants to hit as close to the author intent as possible and this Box Hill sequence makes me feel like that’s what Jim O’Hanlon was going for. I have the book open next to me as I write this and it’s shocking to me how minutely the atmosphere described in the book is conveyed here. Most of all, the fact that Emma’s insulting Miss Bates is not the only thing faux pas she makes here. Box Hill as a whole is a disaster, and it’s largely because of Frank.

“When they all sat down it was better; to [Emma’s] taste, a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. To amuse her, and to be agreeable in her eyes, seemed to be all that he cared for—and Emma, glad to be enlivened, and not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. “Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted excessively.” They were laying themselves open to that very phrase—and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she expected. She laughed because she was disappointed…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Most other versions rush through Frank’s “excessive” flirting with Emma (Right in front of Jane) to get to “Three Things Very Dull Indeed” as fast as possible, and yes that’s the crowning horror of Box Hill, but there’s a very intricate setting here, too, and this version has the time to lay back and let it all unfold in the oppressive discomfort of an English summer day.

Even better than all of that though is Knightley confronting Emma after it all goes down. This treatment is neither plaintive, nor aggressive as it was in ‘96 and ‘97 respectively. I’ve already extolled the virtues of Johnny Flynn’s Box Hill rebuke, but for a change I’m not going to zero in on Miller’s performance which is, at least as good as Flynn’s, but on Romola Garai’s, which I find superior to Anya Taylor Joy’s. Specifically, her reaction once she’s alone.

ATJ in the 2020 version immediately breaks down sobbing and it’s hard for me to feel that she’s sobbing for “anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern” or that there’s much self-reflection going on there. To me it rather just feels like she’s crying because she got shouted at. The theatrics of it, to me, feel childish and self-centered.

I don’t feel that with Garai’s performance.

“She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed—almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck . . . How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how to suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

Time did not compose her…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Of course one can make the case that Emma's reaction should be a bit childish because Emma is an immature character, but that's the thing--I can agree with you anywhere else in this story but this is Emma's maturing moment. This is her turning point as a character. It's where we should see her reactions shift from the same childish denial we're used to seeing when Knightley scolds her, because this is different. It's not the usual brushing off of big brother Knightley, this is a young woman reacting to an esteemed friend pointing out how abhorrently inappropriate she's been and her having to admit that to herself.

I didn't really want to drag comparisons to the 2020 film into this, not on this scale at least, but this just jumped out at me the last time I watched the new film and I have to express it somewhere.

What I see in Garai’s performance is desolation and mortification. That shocked tearfulness of knowing you’ve been justly reproached for wrongdoing, but being too frozen in a pretense of composure to actually cry about it until you’re quite sure that no one will see you. And especially when it’s someone you esteem rebuking you, the horror of them leaving before you can admit that they’re right. There’s so much more depth here, I think, and I can’t even quite express what it makes me feel.

The aspect of time not composing her is another thing that they decided to put stress on in this version. Emma looks fucked up in the following scenes. When she goes to see Miss Bates, she clearly either hasn’t slept or has slept very badly. I feel like this is maybe an anticlimactic conclusion to this section but I’m afraid I’m very close to reaching incoherence, so I’m just gonna leave it here.

My absolute favoritest thing about this version though—something that sets it apart from ALL other versions and even adaptations of other Austen stories—is the inclusion of the post-confession conversation.

This is something of a trope in Austen books but it very rarely finds its way into adaptations: confessions of love are out of the way, the hero and heroine settle into an easy an comfortable conversation, glowing with happiness as they explain and laugh over their actions and misinterpretations of each other’s choices. It happens in Pride and Prejudice, in Persuasion, and yes, in Emma. This is the only Austen adaptation, that I've seen, to include this kind of conversation in any kind of detail. The 1995 Pride and Prejudice alludes to the corresponding scene in it its source material, but the lines pulled from it get tossed into the confession scene itself and then it flies through to get to the obligatory wedding—a side effect of rushing through endings, a convention I’m rather tired of.

Emma (2009) takes its time with this, as with all other aspects of this adaptation. For a version that’s so full of energy, its pacing is extremely laid back and comfortable, without dragging. When you hear the gentle musical swell and Emma and Knightley have their kiss (this whole confession sequence is so sweet and wonderful in its own right), you expect that to be it. But no, we cut to them, the picture of contented happiness, sitting together on a bench overlooking Hartfield’s garden, just talking and enjoying being together, with no teasing, no pretense. If Jane Austen stories emphasize anything, it’s the importance of communication in relationships, and I think that’s maybe why she made it a point in almost every story to show her characters communicating their feelings in words, even after all the conflict has been resolved. This is my favorite scene in the whole series (In case it being my header image didn’t make that obvious.)

This is followed rather promptly by a cut to the next day, with Emma bursting in to Donwell in hysterics about how they can’t be married because she won’t leave her father alone.

This is one of those maybe over-the-top choices that a lot of people don’t like, but guys, it was so funny to me when I was fourteen and it still makes me laugh. It might seem outlandish, but to me it’s just the emphasis on personal relationships and emotion coming through again and it always makes me smile.

Final Thoughts

It’s hard for me to give a proper round up of my feelings for this section because I think I’ve poured just about all of my feelings on each aspect into its dedicated sections.

At the end of the day, the only thing that really disappoints me about this version is the number of missed opportunities there are here. One of my favorite parts of reading Austen is when I run across a line in dialogue or narrative that just… slaps. But they never make it into the adaptations. Emma is full of them and I just wish that Sandy Welch could have taken an opportunity to slip a few of them in.

In summary, I think this is a wonderful, heartfelt adaptation aimed at getting to the emotional heart of a story that often gets caught up in the Mean Girl-ness of its main character than the coming of age story that it is. It's one of my favorite period dramas because it's one of the few that really captures the spirit of the source material as it's always felt to me. There's really only two other period dramas that I esteem on the same level as this, and they're North & South (2004) and Jane Eyre (2011) and it's for the same reasons; because they impact me deeply on an emotional level--which is what art is supposed to do--because of how well it captures the essence of the story that I know and love.

So did I succeed in a more objective review of Emma 2009? I' feel like probably not. But I tried my best. It’s so hard to be objective about something that makes you as happy as this adaptation makes me.

Ribbon Rating: Most Agreeable (83 Ribbons)

Tone: 10

Casting: 9

Acting: 9

Scripting: 7

Pacing: 10

Cinematography: 7

Setting: 9

Costumes: 6

Music: 8

Book Accuracy: 8

[megan-is-mia]

May I have Jade with number 12 off your new yandere prompt list? Thanks!

(No biggie it happens sometimes my dude) 12. “You do love me…right?” (Yandere! Jade Leech x Fem! S/o)

“Was my wish too ambitious? Was it too much to ask for a quiet life with someone who loved me?” (Y/n) thought to herself as she floated on her back in the early morning light. The hours right before sunrise and right after sunrise were her favorite parts of the day. They were the only time she had to herself anymore, her partner Jade preferred to sleep until the sun was completely above the horizon. She needed to make sure she was home before he awoke and already making breakfast lest he accuse her of sneaking off to have an affair with someone. (Y/n) had met Jade back when she had just reached the delicate age of fifteen and had been permitted by her parents to visit the beach to gather clams when the tide was low and fish for herring and anchovies while the tide was high. She spent many days contentedly foraging before she began to get the feeling that someone might be watching her. A few weeks of being watched passed by before she gathered the courage to confront her observer. Foolishly she’d called out for the person to reveal themselves to her and she’d met her stalker face to face. Jade had been so different when they’d first met. He’d acted so gentlemanly towards her that if she hadn’t been able to see his normal-looking clothes she might have guessed he was a fairytale prince out of a storybook. The boy had been so gracious to her, offering to help her fish and dig up clams so that it took half the time it took her to complete the job on her own. The only compensation he’d asked from her was that she spent the time she saved by receiving his help with him just talking and getting to know one another better. (Y/n) had no idea that her agreeing to such activity might be her undoing.

A few years passed by, (Y/n) finally reached the age where it was time for her to settle down and start a family with someone her parents approved of. She had considered asking Jade what he thought of her marriage prospects only to have him offer himself up as a possible candidate for her hand. The girl had turned him down without a second thought, he was her best friend! There was no way she could marry her best friend! Not to mention the boy didn’t exactly fit her mother and father’s ideal for what kind of man their daughter should be wedded to.

The lad was too spindly and lacked enough muscle for hard labor, he would not be able to provide for their child or any children. That was what the girl’s father said. The boy lacked knowledge in a proper trade, he would not be able to find a job to support their daughter or any grandbabies she brought into the world. That is what the young woman’s mother declared. (Y/n) hated to say it but she agreed with her parents’ assessment of Jade’s skill set as a potential husband. Despite this she did not wish for a rift to form between her and her beloved friend, so she continued to visit him each day. It was on the day she brought him the good news that she’d found a match that he struck. Jade grabbed (Y/n) by the wrist and dragged her into the ocean. Deeper and deeper they went until the girl’s feet could no longer touch the ground without her entire head being submerged and still, they went deeper. Eventually they’d gone far enough that the boy was almost completely submerged and the young woman finally put her foot down to end this nonsense. Wrenching her wrist from his grip she tried to swim back to shore only to be met with a nasty surprise as a thick thing wrapped around her body and dragged her under. She forced her eyes open despite how the salty water stung them, desperate to see what had pulled her between the water’s surface and discover if she could escape the thing’s clutches. That thing turned out to be Jade, who’s pale peach skin had turned a horrifying teal everywhere but his hands, chest, and face which instead had taken on an unnatural white tone. His ears had elongated into fins and when she looked down she saw a second pair of fins located on his forearms. When (Y/n) looked further down she saw that it was a tail that was wrapped around her keeping her captive. “I’m so sorry it had to end this way Minnow. I did want to continue playing human with you awhile longer but you forced my hand. I just can't have you running off and getting married to some land-dwelling halfwit when you clearly belong by my side living life to the fullest” Jade said with a reluctant smirk at (Y/n). “You just shut those pretty eyes for me okay? I promise i won't let you drown, i’m just taking you somewhere safe so we can live our lives in happy domestic bliss alright?” the boy went on pressing a kiss to the girl’s lips and transferring oxygen to keep her alive as she passed out from shock. The next time (Y/n) awoke she was curled up in an unfamiliar bed with Jade holding her close and looking as human as he ever had. However now she knew the truth and that changed everything. At first, she’d fought tooth and nail to escape, but it was no use. He was faster than her regardless if it was on land or in the water. Especially when it came to water, he seemed to delight in showing her just how powerless she was in the water even if he didn’t shift into his eel-merman form. Yes that was right, she was now the partner to an eel-merman. A fact she’d never be allowed to forget.

These thoughts swirled around (Y/n)’s head as she continued to float in the water and she lost track of time. Jade awoke to an empty bed and started thinking the worst until he saw his sweet Minnow enjoying gentle ocean waves outside. Creeping into the water he changed shape and swam beneath the girl before grabbing her ankle to drag her under playfully. He enjoyed how she fought to keep her head above the water and let her flounder and struggle for air for a few moments more before he surfaced with her held in his arms like a newborn baby.

“Minnow… You do love me…right?” Jade said softly as (Y/n) coughed violently and tried to clear her lungs of water before giving him an answer. He knew what the answer was for him, he loved his Minnow more than anything in this world. He’d planned on eating her when they’d first met but had grown quickly enamored after talking with her only a short while. He had wanted to marry her and make it official on land but alas things don't always go according to plan. The eel felt a kiss being pressed against his lips, breaking him from his musings and serving as an adequate answer to his question… at least for now… THE END

[clownsgobeepbeep]

Phantom

*sings* Boy you got me fucked up-

Warnings for stalking and pretty disturbing content imo. I tried to water this down but...my god...

Friday afternoon.

Always the same place. Always the same time. Always the same booth. Always the same order.

Have a nice day, her lips read. Cherry-red lips shaped like a cupid’s finely crafted bow, curled up into a polite smile directed towards the waitress that had just left her booth. At this point,reading her lips was like reading a book, just following whatever word came next.

Through the glass pane that divided her from the outside world he watched, watched as her thin fingers dug into the coin purse shaped like a pink axolotl, soon pulling out a few dollar bills that were placed on the table for the tip.

She stood up, wiping herself with her napkin one last time. Finally, she made her way from the booth and through the diner, waving her hand goodbye to the old man that wiped the main counter. There was no need to hear her for the lip-reading alone was more than enough, but he every now and then chose to allow her voice into his ears.

At this point, hearing her every move was built into his system, every vibration beating in his chest like the drumming of his heart.

Her heeled shoes clicked and clacked with every dainty step, causing the ends of her golden bob to bounce in an almost elegant manner. He heard the clicking cease before a key was inserted into the keyhole of her teal car, its driver door soon opening before she hopped into the driver’s seat.

There was a slight squeak when she reached up to adjust the rear-view mirror, cherry lips having curled down slightly as she realized this was not the way she had left it. There was no way somebody could have touched her mirror without anyone realizing some stranger reached inside her convertible vehicle.

Shrugging it off, she reached down to the cup holders to grab her lipstick to redo the one on her lips. That was when her eyes were drawn down to an emptiness, no lipstick in sight. She now furrowed her eyebrows, desperately looking around the car to find the missing lipstick.

From a distance he watched her slight fit of panic, his lips curling up with a snicker as he fiddled with the heart-shaped item. His own hazel eyes trailed down to look at it.

“Take Me.” he read in a whisper, a shaky breath escaping his lips before his eyes went back up to her, seeing that she had given up and instead retorted to grabbing the lipstick she kept in her purse as a backup.

She removed the lid before the stick was placed on her lips, hazel eyes looking through the mirror to apply the faded color. It wasn’t until she saw another pair of hazel eyes in the mirror that made her turn around in a panic, heart having stopped in that instant as she saw nobody behind her car.

Perhaps she was tired and was now seeing things in her mirror. It wouldn’t be the first time and she was mostly certain that all forces against her had given up.

She decided to reapply her lipstick at home, tucking the tube back inside her purse before starting up the engine. She began to reverse her car, realizing that something was off with the movement. 

Perhaps something was behind one of her wheels.

So she got down from the car, circling around it once before finding the problem she faced. The back wheel on the right side was popped, something small and round lodged into it. Once realizing this, she reached down to grab what was most likely a nail, ripping it out and discarding it to the side.

Without her knowledge, the item’s tiny legs extended out, helping it crawl away and towards the shadows where it knew it was meant to be. In the shadows was he who had purposely sent it out, chuckling to himself at the prideful work done by his parasitic minion.

“Dammit.” he heard, looking back up at her. Her petite form made its way back into the diner, sighing as she began talking to the old man from before.

He gave her a comforting smile, telling her that he would do as she requested.

She had asked to leave the car there until the morning, or just until one of her beaus came to fix it. The older man asked what she would do in the meantime. She would walk.

From the shadows she was watched, the observer almost cackled in glee. Her latest form of transportation proved to be a nuisance when it came to spectating her, always making her trips far too short for his taste.

From where he stood he could tell that she was told to wait just a minute, that walking alone wasn’t her best option no matter the time of day.

She insisted it was alright.

He couldn’t help but let out a smirk, tilting his head in satisfaction as he waited for her to walk out of the diner again. This could have been the time to finally reintroduce himself to her. But perhaps, he could wait a little longer. The anticipation only made things more thrilling, watching her from afar for this long without her knowing.

His eyes landed on her facial features once again, skin colored like a fuzzy peach that had two rosy cheeks. Perky little nose that still had the slightest tint of pink left from her childhood, something that always embarrassed her but he always adored, especially with his inheritance of it. 

The blonde bob always framed her heart-shaped face so perfectly. Long eyelashes popping from behind her fringe to flutter like a butterfly’s wings, almost teasing anyone that saw such a simple but coy action.

He clutched his coat in a tight grip with both of his hands, almost clawing into them with the sharp tips of his fingers as his eyes followed every curve of her body. Her white sweater was neatly tucked into the denim skirt that hugged her bottom half ever so perfectly, revealing her thin legs that were finished off with little red boots.

Her left hand clutched her purse that was too in the sphere of a red heart, just like the tiny red hearts that adorned her long nails. These gently tapped themselves on the new leather material while the ones on the other hand dug into her hair, practically combing it before a stray strand was tucked behind her ear. Even on here she wore hearts, her earrings that dangled and skipped beats like the heart that pounded even harder in the chest of her observer. It was all very appropriate for a Queen of Hearts.

Said observer had been far too focused on taking in as many details as possible that he had lost track of time, a minute of doting over every single thing had actually been a few minutes, long enough to cancel the girl’s solitary walk home.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

He blinked a few times before actually paying attention to the situation, eyes furrowing deeply as he realized that there was a newcomer in the diner. There was no need to hear a name or see a face to this person, it was the mere tone in which ‘you’ was spoken as well as the setting itself.

A male with raven hair had entered the building, his arms already wrapped around the object of interest’s much smaller form.

She spun around after a moment of surprise, hazel eyes becoming half lidded as her hands carefully planted themselves on the male’s chest. Fingers made slight, tantalizing motions before her hands slid high up with her digits now entangled in the dark hair. One hand had actually remained lower, placed on the male’s cheek to gently caress it, the former’s face turning to kiss the palm that faced him.

“Sonny called me, Atlas nor I were going to let you walk home alone.”

“I told Sonny-” the girl eyed the older man with false anger. “-that I could go on my own. I can take care of myself.”

“We know you can,” the male leaned down to plant his cracked lips on the girl’s soft hair, sparking a boiling rage in the one that could only stare from afar. “But we love protecting you so much.”

“Whatever.” she replied, soon enough parting from his embrace. It wasn’t long until she was outside once again, this time with the adversary that continuously told nothing but ridiculous comments, flashing crooked grins and off-beat winks every now and then.

The pair was watched as the scene unfolded, the male kneeling down after picking up a spare wheel from the vehicle’s trunk. He looked up at the girl, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he practically ogled her form like an infatuated fool.

It was maddening how the girl returned a similar look, but not as fatuous as the male that even had to be reminded to turn his attention to the wheel that required changing. But once he had finished with the task, his eyes were again glued onto the girl’s legs, the left being lifted off the ground in an almost enticing manner so that he could place a soft kiss.

“You have anywhere to be right now?” she spoke above a whisper so that only he could hear her suggestive tone.

“If I did, I would have told Atlas to be here.” the male kissed her bare shin again, receiving a ‘stop’ in the form of a giggle that resulted in him standing up before caging his partner between his body and her car.

Disgusting.

If looks could kill, the male’s life could have been terminated in an instant with how he was stalked. The attention was no longer on the girl but on him instead, poisonous thoughts directed his way as he placed his hands on the girl’s hips. His fingers could have bruised her skin with how he was digging his fingers into her, tainting her with his brute force.

There was no hypothetical possibility here of all the things he could do with so much anger kept in the stalker’s form, he could have killed the other male without a second thought. He could have gotten rid of his problems right there and then, all of them.

But no.

He was smarter than that.

He was clever.

He was patient.

There was no need for elimination, only waiting. 

Waiting with an open embrace for those cherry-red lips to genuinely smile at him and only him. 

Waiting with an open embrace for those hazel eyes to be half-lidded and fixated on only him.

Waiting with an open embrace for those hands to hold and caress him and him alone.

Snapping out of these thoughts filled with hope, he turned away from the repulsive scene before standing erect and turning on his heel. There was no point in staying at this point in time, he already knew what would be going on once the flirtations supposedly ceased. 

Reaching into his pocket, the watcher tugged on a golden chain that was connected to an elegant pocket watch, one in the shape of a heart. On it was a single hand that he moved with his thumb, making a half-moon shape until stopping. As this happened, time and space moved just for him as he found himself hours later in a new location.

Darkness had now fallen the town as well a silence, not a creature stirring at this time of the night he found himself in.

There were not many sources of light to illuminate his way, but there was no need for it. 

Night vision was good enough, but muscle memory was much better.

He followed a trail he could almost see after having walked through it several times, eyes glued onto the building he approached.

Through a glass pane he could see a source of illumination, many tiny ones in fact. Tiny stars that would glow in the darkness when the right time came. He had grown accustomed to seeing them often despite the pink-colored curtains that concealed his view from what was on the opposite side of the glass.

With nothing but thoughts alone, the curtains parted open to reveal a bed situated almost in the center of the bedroom the stalker leered into.

There was a glisten in his eyes as a smirk tugged at the left corner of his lips, heart palpitating with thrill as his sights landed on the girl from before. 

A complete jewel. The jewel of the sea. His jewel.

Her heavenly features so calm, so oblivious to it all.

Painted eyelids carefully shut as her lips twitched every now and then. Her features were no longer peach but a color that resembled the petals of a young daisy, still so soft and pure.

She faced the window after experiences of having to watch her back, the scar being closest to her family that slumbered in the other rooms of the house.

This was one of those nights in which she slept alone, the only source of comfort being the plush toys she kept all around her bed. Her usual blue companion nowhere to be found, instead staying the night with the pups he fathered.

Without a second thought, behind the girl was her watcher, almost cooing at how innocent she looked all cuddled up in bed. There was no way oh her knowing he was there unless he desired it.

It was almost as if he didn’t exist. It was almost as if he was a phantom.

Ever so cautiously, he seated himself right behind her. He brought a finger up to the small of her back, feeling the silky nightwear covering only half of her back. 

His finger was then on the exposed portion of it, trailing up the line of stitches she received years ago. 

She was so fragile. So small. So...perfect.

And with a phantom touch he moved onto her face. As cliche as it sounded, the beauty in her only soared the closer he got to her. 

His digits caressed the smooth texture of her cheeks, moving in circular motions to follow the rosy swirls. With his other hand, he touched his own cheek to move his fingers in the same motion as he imagined the same symbols on his own features. How lovely it would have been to match with her.

Putting aside these thoughts, he followed through with her cherry-red lips now in the form of a heart while the rest of her lips matched her skin.

The tip of his index finger traced the heart as he almost giggled to himself, especially at the thought of the other lips that clashed with hers. Some day, it would all cease, he just knew it. 

But thinking of this left him with a familiar rage, one that had him clutching onto the sheets that covered the girl. It was infuriating that every but he could hold her, that everybody could treat her as they pleased.

So it was in moments like these that he took what was rightfully his.

Thinking back to the male from before, with his arms wrapped around the girl, he mimicked his actions.

Arms snaked around her thin waist as he brought the rest of his body onto her bed, snuggling his face into the exposed part of her back. He took in the sweet scent of flowers and nature that radiated off her, every now and then finding tones that repulsed him; only for her would he stand them.

This was all he wanted.

For her to be here.

For her to hold him.

For her to tell him it was all okay.

Why did she have to leave him? Was he not everything she had always wanted?

Clearly this was the case, and for this he strived to be all that she ever wanted.

With these thoughts he unconsciously squeezed her waist, suffocating for a split second before she jolted awake.

She whipped her head around in every direction possible, even turning down to look at her waist that had nothing but the wrinkled material of her blouse.

She brought her hands down to her abdomen, soothing the area before she brought her head back onto her pillow. 

There was no doubt she was imagining things, perhaps dreaming of them after so many close encounters with disturbed minds and deaths. 

She could only close her eyes once again as she comforted herself, tightly hugging a stuffed toy before bringing herself to sleep once again.

Never realizing that phantom that remained. Just for a little longer.

For tonight, she belonged to him.

[talesofsonicasura]

Crossroads

A writing experiment involving Jujutsu Kaisen and a new writing style.

Ancient Feudal Japan, Kakato Village

It was a very crisp Autumn today within the forest abundant village. The soft buzz of villagers mingling in the streets, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting in the air, and various streaks of red, yellow and orange paint the ground in warm colors. Stood at the back was the small palace home of the chief as armed guards were on patrol. Signs that trouble was brewing.

"What do you mean that Tsuhime Village has been destroyed?!" The yell of the village's ruler bounced across the throne room. Guards were sweating under their armor but kept it hidden than the scout on his knees who was ready to have a heart attack on the spot. The harsh glare of the heavy set pig that was their lord didn't fully hide the fear in his eyes.

"I'm afraid so! The remainder of my cavalry and I can confirm it. We honestly thought they were merely holding back the debt they owe but then it appeared. The monster that has been destroying settlements left and right in a carnage of pure madness. Ryoumen Sukuna had devastated Tsuhime Village!"

Fear and despair instantly folded the room in mere seconds. Servants close to the door of the throne room made a dash to vomit, the guards in the room shivered and the lord himself froze in seconds as his advisor tried to keep the man together. Reactions that fitted what was going on.

Ryoumen Sukuna, a sorcerer so powerful that he ruled the Golden Age of Jujustu. Someone who turned into a powerful demon after the death of his humanity, a monster with two faces and four arms whose magic grew to the point that he was a king amongst his Cursed kind. Death, despair and destruction followed the King of Curses wherever he went in his bloodlust craze.

"That means...our village is next in its path. We're all doomed!!! The King of Curses is coming for our souls!" The scout panicked to the point he fell unconscious to the floor in pure fear, foam dripping from his mouth and eyes rolled to the back of his skull. One of the guards on standby were quick to pull the unconscious soldier out of the throne room. Every detail of their situation sinking in.

"Damn it! My lord, Tsuhime is about three days away from us on horseback alone. If the scout left by morning as requested with his men, then we have until tomorrow's rising sun before that monster comes…! I'm afraid we need to make an offering to the demon to at least stave him off." The lord didn't like the look in his royal advisor's eyes.

They needed a sacrifice.

Outskirts of Kakato Village

Within the thick brush of trees, bushes, bamboo and leafy foliage sat a small hidden clearing. A burst of blue painted the soil, large jagged stones, and the vibrant green in a soft soothing teal. The sounds to follow as the light slowly dies were soft thuds, a click, electrified whir, and then shuffling fabric.

Standing at the center of a once empty opening now stood a young woman. She looked to be around her late teens with a slim form and elegant frame to a 5'10 body. Long, straight raven hair that covered the ears into obscurity and eyes in shadow except the smooth heart face and skin was a soft beige that could be mistaken for peach by make up.

The only thing they wore was a large green and white striped kimono that completely covered the hands, body and even their feet with a large violet ribbon being the only thing keeping it together. "I hope this doesn't fall apart or grab the worst attention. Last time I let Minnie choose the outfit." She tugged at her neck sleeve in annoyance. Almost if the kimono was chafing or plain uncomfortable.

The young woman took a glance at her surroundings. Taking every detail in before shadowed eyes landed on the jagged boulder a few feet away. With a soft smile, the stranger strolled over to the stone and kneeled down to dig out a bit of the ground near it. She sat there for a few minutes before standing up. The fresh hole was now covered and patted down to the point it was invisible to the untrained eye.

Soft clink of metal had the oddity still before carefully turning around. The visage of the sharp spear tip nearly scratched her face but it was ignored for the wielder of the weapon. Soldiers from their very similar armor that samurai wore, jet black hakama trousers and kyahan knee stockings, red uwa-oba belt and straw waraji sandals for clothing.

Her main attention was the one in a full set of armor. Dou chestplate, Kusazari kilt, Sode shoulder plates, armored Kote gloves, and kabuto helmet that all had a crimson metal coat. Out of the 7 man squad, he was the only one to have his weapon drawn. From a simple glance, the other men seemed reluctant, nervous, or even downright terrified.

Very very bad signs to anyone with a smidge of common sense. "Um, may I help you?" The peculiar woman's voice was soft and calm but riddled with subtle caution. Weapons are more dangerous in wary hands than steady ones and the leader seemed a bit too jittery. All of them were scared but by who or what.

"On order of Lord Jun Kakato the 5th, you are hereby under arrest!" She could only blink in utter disbelief under the shade of her hair. 'What the hell?' Is the only thought the woman had before finding herself in the back of a horse pulled carriage. Arms and legs bound together in thick rope knots alongside a white gag to the mouth.

The raven watched from the window of this uncomfortable ride as the scenery changed into that of a typical feudal era village. Everyone dressed in various kimonos standing out of their homes in vertical droves but glaring details were easy to spot quick. Ones that paint this situation into a darker light.

No sign of a woman or child in the massive crowd. Every observer had standard male kimonos, aged faces around 13 and up other than the noticeable broad muscles or sliver of unexposed chests. It wouldn't be a shock if all the soldiers were male too.

'I don't like this one bit. This is a view reserved for those on death row… and I am approaching the guillotine.' The raven morbidly thought, almost expecting the carriage to stop soon. A fact that became true for a few minutes later did the vehicle stop and she was forcibly hauled off into a decent sized estate.

The soldiers were quick to drag her inside with no little time to observe the new environment. Glances of the mostly empty halls, deathly silence but the scent of rot underneath the wood tiled floor was enough to paint the picture. Superstition in certain time periods is a very dangerous ordeal to all who lived.

Any wrong move or large disaster called for a sacrifice of some sort. Sacrifices that involved three particular factors despite the various cruel procedures. Women, innocence and virginity cast into flames, roaring water or ritualistic martyrdom. A plausible thought as the young raven was unceremoniously dumped onto the throne room floor.

The throne was occupied by a large portly man who smelled like alcohol but also a musky thick scent associated with the opposite gender. She could easily see lust in the pig's eyes and honestly wanted to break his teeth in if given the chance. Especially as he placed his hand on her cheek in a perverted caress before staring.

"This will do for a sacrifice." And that final sentence could now summarize the young woman's current predicament. Strapped to a wooden post in front of the large forest that possessed the village of her kidnappers. Legs heavily bound, but hands were slowly getting loose from the raven's work on untying the knots.

The worst thing about the situation was that they had drenched her body in a mix of oils, honey and frighteningly human blood before leaving her outside late at night. It was the type of horror to traumatize someone but all it did was annoy the young woman to no end. Death wasn't a concept unheard of and it was something she didn't fear considering her birthplace.

The thought brought her to sing a song that suited the silent dread of the night. Soft, hypnotizing, and pacifying honey sweet voice brimmed full of sorrowful lyrics filled the air as the wind sang along.

Daylight fades

In night we'll gather 'round

What remains

Is Lavender Town

Tend the graves

Remember what you've lost

What remains

Did not come without cost

A soft crimson orange began to lit up far within the forest behind her. The faint sound of ghoulish screams, the sparks of growing flames and malevolent roars of laughter. Everything drowned by the melodious somber.

Broken pieces, broken hearts

Put together in the dark

Night has come

The sun above has fled

Overcome

By spirits of the dead

Tend the graves

Remember what you've lost

What remains

Did not come without cost

A large ball of sunburst orange grew at the center of the forest followed by nothing but the roaring flames that remained. Growing smell of ash, metallic tinge of blood, and the bittersweet scent of spider lilies came closer with her song.

Easier to just swim down

In the gloom upon this town

Tears of grief

For friends and family gone

Underneath

The spirit shall live on

Tend the graves

Remember what you've lost

What remains

Did not come without cost

"Such a beautiful song… of sorrow and pain. Perfect for a night filled with blood." The last thing she heard before blacking out. A deep, powerful, rich male voice full with husks of madness, insanity and vengeance followed by harsh pain on the back of her head.

Shrine of Devastation

Royal violet eyes slowly opened to the bright light of the sun, light slightly dulled by the image of a long black haired wig. The young woman quickly sat up upon the sight of her disguise. Wild curly locks of her sun gold hair tipped in toxic violet now on full display, even the two long banes that curved to look like horns on her head.

It was also easy to notice the lack of the oversized kimono that also served as a cover. A dark blue sleeveless vest that topped a black and white striped tee shirt, dark green cargo pants lined with various pockets, a peculiar silver belt with a large crimson M at the center, brown hiking cleats with silver spikes at the bottom, a gauntlet made of obsidian and black crystal on the right arm, and a pure white gauntlet crafted from a material similar to meteorite.

The woman glanced around to see a thick black leather bag sitting next to not only her wig but the torn remnants of her kimono. Everything laid on the stone floor of a ruined shrine, the place of worship had cracked pillars reinforced with metal to barely keep it standing, a roof covered in both cracks and leafy green vines, and statues depicting someone broken to absolute unrecognizable pieces.

Or the fact that there was a graveyard of various bones littered across the grass field it laid on. Skulls, tail bones, spines, collar bones, pelvis and other types from many species of human or animal, mostly humans. Most broken, some covered in dry blood and even full skeletons was enough to say this shrine belonged to a god of death.

"It seems my little bird of paradise has awoken." The familiar voice immediately made the young woman turn her head to be greeted by an even more ominous sight. A giant of man standing near 9 or maybe even 10 ft in height, a body built with thick bulging muscles that could put bodybuilders to shame, tattoos that lined over his body in near circular patterns that become more narrow by his sharp face, salmon looking hair that topped a shade of near black as a loose white kimono covered most of his waist and wore straw sandals.

It was the unnatural features that gave this stranger an aura akin to both god and demon. Four large arms ending in sharp black claws, two faces with the right side formed and tilted upwards almost like a morbid mask, four crimson red eyes dark as a sea of glistening blood and what must be a mouth on his lower stomach upon the glimpse of a tongue dipping back into his abdomen. None of it really dented the man's enchanting appearance, only served to enhance it in a supernatural light.

"I guess you're the one I was being sacrificed to earlier. Guess the jackasses didn't get away with grabbing a stranger and then leave 'em out there to die. Or my assumption of them killing every child and woman there either." Her nonchalant words had taken the four arm man off guard but it quickly became amusement from the large grin now on his face.

Or the small haunting laugh he let out that seems suited for demonic villains or deranged psychos in horror films. "Such a morbid sense of humor for a small woman. Quite clever too. Then again, you are a mystery that I actually want to unravel for once. A human who grabbed the interest of the King of Curses, Ryoumen Sukuna." The now named Sukuna spoke while towering over the blonde.

Something she merely responded by looking the man straight in his four blood red eyes with arms crossed and an unamused look. "King of Curses, Ryoumen Sukuna? Quite ballsy of you to think I'm intimidated. The Frontier Brain of the Battle Sanctuary, Veris Belladonna, isn't impressed. And yes, you can say I'm literally out of this world." The woman or Veris, spat back in a mocking tone.

His grin slowly diminished into a smirk as he started to circle around the 'Frontier Brain'. All four eyes taking in every detail of the woman, growing amused from her iron strong will. Sukuna really liked the fact she saw him as a predator but refused to bend. This peculiarity standing before him had the hardened soul of a warrior and the harsh look of those royal violets showed it too.

"'Frontier Brain of the Battle Sanctuary?' Quite an odd title but the way you hold yourself perfectly in my presence means that you're the ruler of this sanctuary. You might be the first who could actually become my equal, a Queen to the empty seat of my throne crafted from blood and bones!" Caressing her chin with one of his large hands while Sukuna crouched down to give the woman a smile full of razor sharp teeth.

Veris response to his advancements was grabbing his hand and moving it off her face with mild difficulty then flicking the giant male on the forehead. "Well, I don't exactly bow down to anyone easily either. If you want me then you have to win my challenge like every competitor who dared take me on."

Sukuna's gaze didn't leave as the blonde walked over to her bag, hand searching through it. Veris smiled as she stood up to show the King of Curses what she had retrieved from the bag. It was a small black ball the size of an orange, dark green spots covered the surface akin to lights in the dark, and at the center was a button. The Frontier Brain nonchalantly juggled the item in her hand freely without taking her eyes off the male.

"Where I'm from, we have a little sport called Pokemon Battles. Inside this Dusk Ball here, is a creature known as a Pokemon or Pocket Monster. We battle with these very creatures against other trainers as a show of both strength and skill. In fact, a large chunk of debates are settled this way too." Her words quickly spark a look of interest from Sukuna, intently listening to what Veris was planning.

"Let's have a little wager. A title like King of Curses isn't something anyone can just get on a whim, is it? It means you're very powerful and no doubt a hellish opponent. And the Pokemon in here isn't a normal one either. Been with me since the very beginning thus is one of my strongest. If they defeat you or if I impress you enough, then I can come and leave here whenever I please." Veris grabbed the Dusk Ball before facing it at Sukuna in a declaration of battle.

The four eyed man hummed a bit, taking in the information given to him before smiling evilly at the challenge. "Pokemon, huh? I won't lie that I have been itching for an actual battle. Every opponent so far has been nothing but pathetic weaklings. As for your little wager, I see no reason to not indulge myself. If I win, then I will claim you as my bride. You will have my child and I will follow you wherever you go."

Veris' face immediately burned red upon the King of Curses' stipulation. Being followed or married to a four arm and four eyed man was one thing but the thought of having a kid with him is another altogether. Her blush lightened as she let out a hearty chuckle.

"Aren't you cheeky? You got yourself a deal. If you do win, I want to at least have a part in naming our child. Might as well get something else than just a good lay." Veris gave the man a manic looking grin, something that made the god-like entity smile insanely.

Sukuna's lower right hand ignited into magenta fire before tossing a small ball of it at the field of bones near the shrine. The area quickly ignited in a wild blaze as the bones were burned to cinders. A large empty space of torched grass and singed earth now stood amongst the skeletal graveyard. The blonde merely let out a whistle at the sight.

"For a bloodthirsty demon man, you can clean up a decent battlefield. This would be a nice design for a new field change back at my sanctuary's arena." Veris leapt down from the shrine, her body agilely weaving through the field of bones similar to a serpent. Sukuna let out a wicked laugh as he quickly followed in pursuit.

The anticipation for battle had them both arriving at the same time and on opposite sides of the scorched battlefield. "This shall be a one on one battle and it will end if one side can't continue fighting. One of the staple rules given to challengers. Now then…" The Frontier Brain looked at the Dusk Ball in her hand.

With a look of determination Veris tossed the Pokeball into the air with a battle cry. "Show this King of Curses your power, Aegis!" The ball spat out multiple clusters of dark violet orbs from its maw that fell before the blonde. All of the shadowy spheres clumped together before exploding to reveal a creature Sukuna never saw before.

This 6'11 beast looked like a green bipedal lizard, similar to a gecko and bearded dragon yet with a build nearly identical to a kangaroo. A two horn crested head bearing yellow eyes with red rims underneath and slitted pupils alongside a bottom red jaw, slightly long neck carrying large yellow bulbs that went down to the lower spine, long arms that had two bladed leafs on each side than just sharp claws, a red band across its belly, a long dark green palm tree tail and powerful legs that end with sharp talons. Around the neck was a collar with a greenish orange stone at the center.

"Sceptile!!!" Aegis' howl sent ripples of green energy across the area around them. Vibrant emerald soaking into the ground as the scorched grass became healthy once more with plant life swallowing the bones 10 ft from the battlefield in an instant. Sukuna easily felt the raw power that radiated from Veris' summon.

"This isn't Cursed Energy that I'm sensing, it's too pure. No, this is nature's own essence and a powerful one too! What type of 'Pokemon' is my opponent? I liked to know before starting the battle." Despite the politeness in his words, neither Trainer or Pokemon were ignorant to the bloodlust oozing in the man's voice. It made the two partners more riled up for the fight.

"Sceptile, the Forest Pokemon. The leaves that grow on their arms can slice down thick trees and their vast agility is used to take down prey. The seeds on their backs contain enough energy to revitalize trees." Sukuna hummed at the information Veris was eager to give. His guess about the energy being associated with nature was correct.

"I think that's enough talk! Let's fight!!" The King of Curses roared as a dark violet aura burned around his body. Aegis got into a battle stance, focusing fully on his larger opponent. "Begin!" With that one word Sukuna quickly ridged over to the Sceptile with speed faster than a bullet.

The upper right fist only slammed the solid ground as the man saw in the corner of his right the Pokemon now behind him. "Dragon Claw." Pure red violet energy formed over the Grass Type's paws as large claws. Sukuna had no time to react when both sharp talons raked across his abdomen and face.

The giant was sent hurtling through multiple bone clusters until he dug his feet into the ground to stop himself. Huge claw marks had marred the right side of his face even getting the lower right eye and a large gash across most of his chest bleeding crimson. Veris could only watch in rapt fascination as the skin and eye muscle knitted together back to pristine condition.

Sukuna laughed wildly, his hands igniting in violet fire to form claws of their own. He was copying Aegis' Dragon Claw and in seconds both charged at one another. The godlike man quickly kept up to the Sceptile's insane speed as claws forged from their essence clashed viciously.

Two of Sukuna's claws swiped at Aegis stomach only to be blocked by his tail. The other two slashed across the Grass Type's chest leaving large scratches but the Sceptile refused to cry out. He instead cross slashed Sukuna's chest then grabbed the man by the head and leapt high into the air. "Seismic Toss!!"

The King of Curses was then spun around at nauseating speeds in place before being hurled into the ground hard enough to produce a large crater and dirt cloud. Almost like lightning large blasts of violet shot from the dust and struck the airborne Aegis. The Sceptile was sent flying into a pile of bones as the pale remains scattered upon impact.

"Aegis!" Veris cried out, purposely ignoring Sukuna emerging from the crater. He looked even worse than wear from this attack unlike the previous. Jaw was broken, upper left arm was splintered with multiple bones poking skin, all of his right eyes were swollen shut and his lower right arm was torn to shreds.

And just like before, Sukuna's wounds knitted themselves together although there were now bruises left. Aegis pulled himself up, his body littered with cuts and mild bruises. The King of Curses was upon the Sceptile in mere seconds and delivered a nasty punch to the Grass Type's stomach.

The Grass Type was sent airborne with the four arm man pursuing to deliver even more attacks. Aegis looked at his partner's eyes amongst the onslaught of vicious punches and kicks. Between faithful royal violets and loyal slitted suns, a plan was silently devised. Endurance was needed of the Sceptile.

Sukuna continued hammering more blows into the Grass Type but Aegis still held on. He felt something was up as Veris hadn't ordered a single command. Had she given up? No, her expression was too focused and determined. No matter.

The King of Curses then grabbed the Sceptile by his neck with two hands and his arms using the other two. "It's been fun but it's time to end this battle." He was going for a chokehold finish. "Now! Combat Drain!" Aegis' claws, talons, and tail ignited in a bright orange aura by his trainer's words.

The glowing tail immediately slams between Sukuna's legs, the brutal foul blow forcing the giant man to loosen his hold on the Sceptile's arms. Aegis then violently kicked Sukuna in the stomach, followed up by two jabs to all of his eyes. He was unaware of the injuries on the Grass Type healing with each strike. Forced to let go in order to cover his face, the man's opponent let loose a barrage of punches onto his stomach before grabbing Sukuna's stomach tongue.

"Seismic Toss once more!" Aegis spun in place once more until the Pokemon had enough momentum to send the godlike man flying into another set of bones. The Sceptile was panting heavily despite now only having minor bruises and two nasty gashes. Veris wasn't blind to know her partner was running on fumes.

Sukuna once again pulled himself up to his feet. The large gashes, completely shattered bottom arms, and scarred eyes healing over but retained more bruises alongside harsh cuts. He was also on his last legs from the harsh panting yet he let out a booming laugh.

"This...is the most fun I've ever had!!! No one has ever given me a battle so exhilarating before! No human, curse or god forsaken Jujutsu Masters' have brought me even close to my knees!!! Let's settle this with one more attack! Everything we can throw at each other!!" Sukuna howled wildly, dark violet energy exploding around him as the ground beneath shattered from the pressure.

"Sceptile scept!!" Aegis growled back in agreement to his trainer's amusement. "Let's end this partner with our signature move!" Veris declared as the Sceptile's sharpened leaves began to glow. Sukuna formed a hand sign with all four of his arms, the positions being Dragon and Tiger.

"Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine!" Blackness immediately bled outward into a large Shinto shrine covered in bones and pools of blood as reality around them was quickly eaten up by the new landscape. It was surprising but didn't deter the trainer or Pokemon one bit.

'Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine. This place is nothing but a hazard room. It must have its own rules to follow!' Veris' thought was proved correct when a large gash suddenly appeared on Aegis. The scary part was Sukuna didn't move from his spot but one of his hands had closed.

'It's almost like an instant Future Sight. No matter…' The woman looked at the Sceptile with pure trust and faith. "Aegis! Get to Sukuna!! Use Leaf Blade with all your power!!!" Veris' words sprung the Grass Type into a fast lunge, the leaves on his arms glowing before they formed giant vibrant green blades.

Sukuna closed another hand as a large gash struck the Sceptile's chest yet the Grass Type still kept running. Two hands closed as two gashes rip apart the back and side but Aegis didn't falter. The Grass Type was halfway to the King of Curses who responded with even more instant slashes.

Multiple cuts and slashes cropped up across the Forest Pokemon's body with barely any part left unscathed. Aegis was slowly losing steam until… "You can do it, Aegis!! Give Sukuna everything you got and tear down his shrine!!!" Veris roared out to her partner with all her faith, belief and trust.

That very belief ignited a fire in the Sceptile's soul as the Pokemon let out a battlecry. "SCEPTILLLLE!!!!" Large burst of green energy exploded from Aegis' body causing the already large energy blades to explode into massive sunlight sabers. It was Sceptile's special ability Overgrow, boosting his Grass Type Moves to their absolute limit when he was on his last legs.

And the ability's power had changed Leaf Blade into… "SOLAR BLADE!!" Aegis swung his oversized arm blades in a cross slash at the same time Sukuna slapped all four of his hands together. In seconds the Sceptile had passed the King of Curses after sliding to a stop. Neither fighter appeared to move until Aegis fell to his knees.

"Hahahahaaa…" The reality around them cracked before shattering into pieces as Sukuna hit the ground. Veris and Aegis had managed to defeat the King of Curses by a single hair. Something the Frontier Brain was quick to notice as the inhuman man started to lose consciousness. "Shit." Was the last thing Sukuna heard before his mind went dark.

Next thing to greet the two faced man's senses was the scent of something spicy and the gentle touch of someone's hands on his body. Four crimson eyes lazily opened to see the image of Veris spray something that stung on his upper right arm before bandaging it. Sukuna felt heavy and sore before he remembered what exactly happened.

"I've lost…" He mumbled sullenly under his breath while he sat up. The King of Curses didn't know what to think about it and decided to take a glance of his surroundings. Veris had him lying on an odd fluffy fuchsia blanket thing(sleeping bag) by his shrine, a pot of food simmering on top of a campfire, and a mostly bandaged Aegis watched the fire in a sea green blanket.

Sukuna realized he had been out cold for quite some time as it was already sunset. The blonde finished tending his injuries which allowed to look over himself. All of his arms, forehead and upper chest were in multiple gauze or bandages, proof of the fierce battle.

"You okay?" Veris questioned upon the man's stone expression. From what she could gather, this was the first time he was thinking over an actual defeat. A natural reaction to have when every other battle you had ended in victory.

The soft clicking of talons had the giant man look up to his Sceptile opponent who stood before him. They both stared at each other for a moment until Aegis extended his paw. "You know, you were the first in a long time to give my partner one incredible battle. Sukuna, you pushed us to the absolute limit that even I didn't know who would win. There is something good that can come from a loss."

The King of Curses was taken off guard by the bright warm smile on Veris' face. "It helps you find a rival who makes ya want to get stronger and test how far you can go. The best battles can come from having a rival and that's what Aegis sees in you, Ryoumen Sukuna. Stick your head up high, King of Curses!"

He stared at the paw outstretched to him. Sukuna let out a small laugh and offered one of his hands to Veris. "Both of you are insane. I wouldn't have it any other way. You got yourselves a rival." The King of Curses' shook hands with the Frontier Brain and her loyal Pokemon partner. Invisible gold chains binding themselves between the three as a vow of sorts had form.

Wagers with Ryoumen Sukuna forms a special type of bond between his associates known as a Binding Vow. A sacred promise which takes effect immediately once a wager ends in either success or defeat. These vows were always of his design though this one felt special to the King of Curses.

It was the first time that a Binding Vow ever felt...warm and soothing to the man. Something that once in his life made him feel at peace. He would look into it later. For now, Sukuna had company he was willing to attend with.

Their night was spent with stories and delicious homemade curry made by Veris. It was easy to learn that Sukuna really liked the food given to him. The man was scarfing it down into BOTH of his mouths that made his guests worry if he can choke his own stomach. Luckily there wasn't any need to perform a Heimlich Maneuver.

Veris shared a few tales of her various battles to the King of Curses but also talked about the world she came from. Sukuna looked like a kid in a candy store upon hearing about different Pokemon and the Pokemon League. The idea of battling all kinds of different creatures like Aegis had started to feel appealing yet also made him think.

A world so different from his own. Something that actually prospered with humans and monsters working together than tearing each other apart. Fights that could test him. Maybe even something more… The last thought made Sukuna reflect on his own deformities for a second.

Veris and Aegis had already drifted to sleep. Both of them were holding each other in a soft embrace. The King of Curses took notice of the blonde's arm laying outwards almost beckoning the man. Sukuna could only laugh before laying himself next to the woman, his arms holding the two close until he drifted to slumber.

Morning had soon come, Veris stood in front of the shrine as Sukuna stood by the steps. Aegis had been returned to his Dusk Ball for they were going back home today. "You sure you don't want to stay a bit longer. This Shrine can be quite boring by myself." The man questioned in an almost bored tone.

"Someone has to keep the Battle Sanctuary up and running. I can't leave any challengers without a chance to prove themselves. Plus, I plan on visiting you quite frequently. Someone has to relieve your boredom." Veris quipped making the two of them laugh.

The blonde was about to say something only to stop when rough lips met hers. Sukuna had pulled her into a deep kiss that almost took all her breath when they broke apart. "I'll see you soon, my Queen." Sukuna softly smiled. Veris could only wave back before smiling and throwing out a Pokeball.

In a bolt of light, a large 12 ft white lion emerged before them. The beast's skin appeared to be a mixture of metal and flesh, belly and paws were pitch black, gold crown like crests under the lower jaw and above the dark blue crystalline forehead, a large mane resembling a flared sun align with gold and red ridges, a tail ending a match shaped spade tip, orange stripes around the ankles, bright blue eyes under the dark blue screen and razor sharp fangs.

"Solgaleo!" The lion roared upon being summoned. Veris swiftly hopped onto the beast's back and looked at Sukuna. "Until we meet again. Let's go home, Apollo!" She waved goodbye as a blue image of an eye appeared on Apollo's forehead. Solagaleo let out a roar causing the space in front of the Pokemon to crack apart and form a large blue tunnel.

Holding tight to her partner's back, Veris disappeared into the tunnel with the Sunne Pokemon. Sukuna watched the tunnel collapse back into empty space, a look of wonder on his face. "Maybe once everything I have to do here is finished, I will come with you. Wait for me until then, my Queen of Sanctuary."

Yep. It was crossover with Pokemon. I wanted to do an experiment involving the King of Curses on the premise of 'Defeat' and 'Another World. An interpretation of how Sukuna could react upon losing a battle but knowing there is something even beyond his own world.

I also wanted to try dropping hints of an original character before fully revealing them too. Veris is a Frontier Brain who's more acquainted with the concept of death and can quite apathetic to a lot of things out of her business.

Her last name is best to describe her since Belladonna is a very poisonous plant used by woman to improve their beauty. Something that felt would go along with her Sceptile.

Hope I had Sukuna mostly in character. I am a bit new into Jujutsu Kaisen so I had to put some serious research to write this. And yes, I wrote Malevolent Shrine similar to Future Sight. Don't judge me.

Seismic Toss affects the damage on how strong the opponent is since I can't factor in Level. Combat Drain is an upped version of Drain Punch btw.

Hope you guys enjoy this!

And the song used is Lavender Town by Man on the Internet! Until next time!

Edit: Fixed some spelling mistakes and grammar. Apparently I can't spell Jujutsu properly.

[nacrepearl]

Gaze Not Into My Eyes - CH2 (Thump, Thump)

Rating: T

Pearl is made for the lustrous Pink Diamond. She performs her duty exceptionally well, aside from the headaches that become more constant than she’d like.

If you asked around the Palace, gems would say she was just another thing for Pink to break, another pawn in this little game of hers, another toy to be tossed around and sedate her tantrums until she cracked. Pink Diamond’s new Pearl didn’t understand where such rumors originated about her Diamond, but Pearl knew her job and stuck to it like she was supposed to. Make Pink Diamond happy.

It was a few hundred years into service, she believed, where she noticed a particular pressure in her gem. Curious and a bit alarmed, she requested a mirror from the Pebbles to inspect her gem herself—she couldn’t get caught with a cracked gem, else Pink took time out of her schedule to take her to the Reef. She didn’t want to be a burden on her Diamond like that. She had to perform exceptionally at all times.

When Pearl brought the mirror to her eye level, it gave back to her an image she never truly saw before then: herself, her peach hair curling against her porcelain cheeks in a way she almost found pretty. Pearls, she knew, were made to be beautiful, and that beauty was only outmatched by the Diamonds in all their radiance themselves. Her eyes trailed to her nose, perfectly pointed and apt for her face, and her cheeks were flushed with a slight teal. Her mouth curved in the slightest neutral gaze. She was definitely fit for a Diamond.

Pearl brought the mirror up close then, taking a good amount of time to look at the stone on her forehead. Smooth, perfectly ovular, iridescent and shining with all colours of the rainbow if one looked closely. But no cracks, not even any scratches, marred its surface.

The mirror showed nothing out of the ordinary, which caused even more confusion in the Pearl. She raised her hand and gently tapped the surface of it to test if the pressure would get worse.

If there was enough pressure already, then adding more would make the feeling worse, and I would have a step forward in sourcing the issue.

When the pain alleviated at her touch, she was momentarily confused. At the moment’s notice, though, she heard her Diamond’s footsteps come down the hall, presumably finished with her meeting with White. She shrugged off the mysterious condition, determined to find a solution later, and stood to return to her Diamond’s side.

As soon as Pink opened the door, Pearl was met with her Diamond’s teary face. She looked a wreck, her teary face complimented by messy hair and a slight slouch. This would not do.

“My Diamond? If I may, was your meeting with White Diamond successful?”

Pink looked down at the sound of her Pearl’s voice, and softened. “It was a disaster! I’ve gone through so many years trying to be a perfect Diamond when I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean. All I’m asking for is one colony, one chance at proving that I fit the role, yet Blue and Yellow and White refuse to listen to me! How am I supposed to be a Diamond when they won’t even give me the chance to do it?”

Pearl watched as Pink paced around the room in her small rant, ending it with a punctuated fwump onto a Pebble constructed chair, rubbing her head in annoyance.

“Would you like me to sing for you, my Diamond? Or perhaps dance?” Pearl asked, hands clasped together and stood up straight, hoping to bring some sort of calm back to her Diamond’s features. Pink Diamond shook her head.

“I think I just need some time to think. But thank you, Pearl.”

-

Years went by, lending way to a few minor reports of the ache happening again. They occurred in short bursts, sometimes longer, and they never followed a set pattern. Trying to pinpoint one had been futile, and Pearl was even more confused by these findings.

Surely there’d at least be a pattern? What kind of gemache is this, with no rhyme or reason to it?

It happened again while Pink was going on about something to her guards. It started as a dull feeling in the back of her gem, slowly creeping its way into the forefront while increasing in pressure. It wasn’t painful all the time, she could ignore it well enough, but when dealing with the constant feeling when she was supposed to be focusing on top of Pink’s depressed behaviour, it was harder to handle. She allowed herself no hiccups in her job. She didn’t want this to be the thing that got her in trouble—or worse, shattered—so early on.

Pearl had only heard rumors of her predecessor, now essentially a lifeless statue under the will of White Diamond. Whatever happened to her to make her such a foreboding presence was not known to Pearl, and frankly, she preferred to keep it that way. She felt bad for the gem, being scarred in such a way where she was, to Pearl’s guess, shocked into obedience for good.

She did not want to end up in a similar fate. The headaches would have to go undetected until she figured out a solution.

-

Pink noticed the next time. Pearl was handling some reports on her holo screen when it hit again, this time going straight into mild pain. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut for just a moment, but the noise was enough to alert her Diamond.

“Pearl?”

Shards, she’d been caught. She looked up and gave a forced smile. “Yes, my Diamond?”

“Is everything okay? I heard you make a noise.”

Pearl stared for a moment. Her Diamond sounded worried about her. She’d expected more of a reprimand for bringing notice to herself like this, especially from a Diamond.

Pearl opened her mouth to reassure her that yes, she was fine, but no sooner had she opened her mouth did she stumble on her words again in an airy whimper as the pressure in her gem spiked fast.

“Pearl, should we go to the Reef? You sound like you’re in pain…” “I’m perfectly alright, my Diamond!” she said, putting on her most convincing smile as the pain became steady but constant.

Her luck didn’t last. Pink questioned her again and the pain in her gem settled right behind it causing her to grab at it with a gasp. The holoscreen she was holding dropped to the floor.

“Pearl!” Pink rushed to Pearl’s side as she clutched at her gem, her eyes closed tightly.

“I’m fine, my Diamond, I can assure you—”

“Nonsense, let’s make a trip to the Reef. You don’t deserve to be in pain like this.”

Pearl was surprised, but nodded her head. The pain grew briefly, and she whimpered, but she led her Diamond to the warp without issue, headed off to the Reef.

Once in the warp stream, the ache behind her gem settled into more of a relaxed ache instead of the pain she was feeling prior. Her Diamond occasionally looked to her, presumably searching for any sign of damage like she had before.

“Pearl, has there been any chance of you damaging your gem recently?” Pink asked, mulling over how to approach the subject once at the facility.

“No, my Diamond. My gem has been in prime condition.”

“I wonder what could be causing this then… maybe there’s a fault in your coding somewhere? Is there a way to check such a thing?”

Pearl was at a loss at this. A fault in her code? Surely if that was the case Shell would have her fixed. If it wasn’t able to be fixed, she didn’t want to know how to proceed from there. She didn’t want to be faulty, she never asked for a malfunctioning gemstone.

She decided on a simple, “No, my Diamond, I’m unable to check my own programming for faults.”

The two arrived at the Reef fairly quickly. Pearl’s gem was at a reasonably tolerable level of pain, as she stepped off the warp pad and made her way over to the console in the middle of the room with her Diamond. Pink placed her hand on the center of it, activating the facility.

“Welcome, Pink Diamond. I am Shell, your guide to the Reef.”

[jungkookienoona]

Would You Like A Taste? (M)

|Part 1|Part 2|

|Masterlist| Support Me on Ko-fi

Summary:

Jungkook has to face the consequences of his actions.

Genre: Smut, Vampire AU, Supernatural, elements of erotic horror

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Situations, Blood, slight cannibalism (it’s like a 3 sentence paragraph), Jungkook’s personality flip-flops between precious bunny and sadist.

Would You Like A Taste has taken 2 years and has been in development since before Can I Have A Taste was rewritten please show it and me some love. I love getting asks or reading tags in reblogs. And remember, my writing can’t improve without feedback.

Word Count: 6769

Jungkook snapped out of his haze when his lips met yours. What had he done? He had only given into his lust for a moment, he didn’t think it would lead into a bloodlust. He fell to his knees with you in his arms. He never wanted to hurt you. His main priority was keeping you safe. But you just had to change your regular Friday routine.

He remembered following your scent to the club; you had looked so beautiful and he couldn’t help the old feelings that crept up. How he had crushed hard on you, how he had been planning on asking you on a date. How he never got that opportunity because he got talked into going to some stupid party, where he found himself getting cornered by some chick and waking up in a ditch about a week later.

“No… No no no no! Shit!”

One of his hands stroked the hair out of your face while the other held you firm to him, your breathing growing shallower by the second. How could he fix this? Could he save you at all? His heart sank at the only option that presented itself. No. He couldn’t do that to you. But time was running out.

“Please don’t hate me Noona.” He whispered before biting down on his own wrist.

A member of staff at the club discovered your lifeless body in the alley. She shrieked drawing the attention of others in the vicinity. It wasn’t long before the police turned up.

After a few days of investigation, it was deduced that your death was due to the over-consumption of alcohol. Your family to arrange your funeral, quickly wanting you to be at peace as soon as possible. They made sure you were buried in your hometown near the graves of your ancestors. The funeral was a family event so strange looks were given to the young man dressed in a black suit who stood near the back. He watched as the members of your family went up to your open casket saying their last tearful goodbyes; waiting patiently for them all to have their turn so that he would be the last to approach. When his time finally came, he was slow to move. Guilt washed over him. He was the reason you were in there, why your family would never see you again. Upon seeing your pallored face he couldn’t hold back the need to touch you, a hand coming to rest on your cheek. You were cold.

“This was never meant to happen... It’s all my fault... I’m so sorry Noona. I’m sorry” His voice was barely louder than the deafening silence as tears ran unbidden down his cheeks, falling to his knees.

Your family watched him break down into sobs; the young man dressed in black that no one knew yet vaguely recognised.

A month passed and there was still no sign of life from you. Jungkook had been sat by your grave every night with a shovel, waiting to dig you up. But as more time passed the more he grew to doubt himself. He hadn’t been quick enough. He had drained you of too much blood. Those thoughts circled his mind for hours on end as he sat there waiting. He even wore the same black suit that he had worn to your funeral. He watched as the colours of the sky changed from navy to black and then eventually to the peach of dawn. His head hung low, accepting the fact that he had killed you, that you would not be waking up and he would not be able to beg for your forgiveness. The sun began to crest on the horizon and Jungkook picked himself off the ground. He was reaching for his shovel when he heard it. When he heard you.

You woke with a gasp, surrounded by darkness. The fuck was going on? Where were you? Last thing you remembered was getting fucked in an alley outside the club and blood red eyes. Your breathing grew rapid as you realised you couldn’t see a thing and as you wriggled in your panicked state you found you were shut in a confined space. You were so focused on yourself you didn’t hear the sound of metal scraping against dirt at an inhuman speed. But what you did notice was the sudden light that shone into, what you now realised to be, your coffin as Jungkook wrenched the lid open. His smile was almost as radiant and bright as the dawn light that haloed him.

“Noona!” He shouted in glee.

“Asshole!” You shouted back with venom.

Jungkook’s smile dropped which brought you some satisfaction. His face became serious as he placed a hand over your eyes.

“Go back to sleep Noona. Don’t worry I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

Almost as if he had cast a spell over you, you fell back into darkness.

As soon as you had called him ‘asshole’ Jungkook knew you would struggle against him. It would be much easier to carry an unconscious you than a kicking and scratching you. So, he did the first thing that came to mind. He used his creator bond to knock you out.

The second time you woke up, you were on a plush sofa in a large living room. You sat up, taking in your surroundings. The sofa you were on was pink and Victorian-esque while the walls were teal and were decorated with what appeared to be family photos. Your curiosity got the better of you. You got off the sofa, walking up to the pictures. The first one that caught your eye was a group picture. Jungkook was in the centre, awkwardly smiling with six older looking boys surrounding him. Two of them had a hand on his shoulders, a guy with purple hair and a brunette. That wasn’t the only group picture of them either, nearly every picture on the wall was one. Except for six of them. In the six remaining pictures, each boy other than Jungkook was paired up with what appeared to be their significant other. You almost felt bad for him. Until you remembered what he had done to you. Anger flowed fresh through your veins once more.

“Yah! Jungkook-ah! Where are you?” You took another look around, “What the fuck is this place?!”

You heard footsteps approaching after. From the sounds of it they were coming from above you then down a staircase and when they stopped a sheepish Jungkook poked his head through the door. He had finally changed his clothes for the first time in a month. Not that you would’ve known. He was now wearing a form fitting white top that had a few holes here and there with three-quarter-length sleeves, and a pair of leather trousers that clung to his muscular legs like they were painted on. It appeared he had decided to forgo wearing shoes.

“You’re awake again.”

“No shit Sherlock; now tell me where I am.”

“We’re in my  family’s home.”

“Family?” Confusion was evident in your tone.

“Pop culture would call us a ‘coven’ but thanks to Twilight, we hate that word.”

Well... that explained nothing to you. You saw him take a step towards and instinctively took a step back. His features looked pained at your action.

“Please... Noona... don’t be afraid of me.”

Don’t be afraid of him? After what he had done to you? Did he really think he could get away with it?

“YOU KILLED ME!”

You noticed a newspaper, the front page had a picture of you smiling and the title read ‘Girl found dead in alley by female bartender’. A bit of a long-winded title that gave away the entire story of the article and it seemed a bit strange that there happened to be a newspaper with what happened to you on its front cover in the room; but it helped you to know what had happened.

“You left me in an alley to be found by a bartender?! The poor girl is probably traumatised!” Your voice portrayed how scandalised you felt at having been left there like that.

“I left you there for you own good! At least you got found.”

“I DIED! You should’ve taken me to a hospital!”

“It was too late, Noona. I didn’t have time. I had no choice but to turn yo-”

“Don’t try and reason your way out of this-”

“Y/N, please listen to me-”

“If you say that you did this for my own good, I swear I will-”

“I KILLED YOU. I was selfish. I drained you of your blood and this was the only way…” His fists were clenched as his voice strained with emotion at first before quieting down to a barely heard whisper, tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. “I lost control. I wanted you so bad and you felt so good… It brought up a hunger for you I didn’t know I had.”

You diverted your gaze, taking another step back when he reached for you.

“Kookie…”

His eyes widened, the nickname striking a cord, “Kookie?”

You shuffled from foot to foot.

“Jungkook…”

He stepped closer and you stepped back; your back coming into contact with a wooden side table causing a vase of flowers to wobble and fall. He caught it, placing it back on the surface but not retracting his hand from beside you. You were pinned in.

“Noona, please. You have to understand.”

“How could I possibly understand?! You disappeared! Do you know how many nights I stayed up crying when you vanished? Then you suddenly reappeared years later looking almost unrecognisable! You killed me on something less than a whim!”

You pushed his chest, Jungkook stumbled backwards at the force.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Noona…”

He reached for you again and you stumbled to the side, knees giving out. He was there, catching you before you fell with his arms around your waist as you both sunk to the floor. Your head was tucked against his chest and at first, he thought you had passed out until he heard a sniffle. He brushed a hand over your forehead, pushing back your fringe.

“You cried when I was gone? I thought you wouldn’t have cared.”

“Of course I cared. You were the sweet dongsaeng that kept sneaking snacks and vitamins into my bag when you thought I wasn’t looking while I was studying in the library.”

He was silent for a moment, hand carding through your hair,

“I was planning to ask you out before I was turned. But I went to a party, I was turned under similar circumstances to you… just without the sex.” He let out a soft chuckle at the last part.

You snorted, “Definitely wasn’t expecting to be shoved up against a wall and fucked by a vampire who just so happened to be my middle school crush.”

You felt his hand still, “I-I was your crush?”

Your cheeks grew warmer.

“Uh… surprise?”

He laughed to himself, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “I should’ve asked you out sooner. I’m so stupid.”

There was a pause in the conversation as you took a moment to think about how you would word what you wanted to say next.

“How long was I dead for?”

“A month. I almost lost hope. But at least you had a funeral; which I attended by the way, accidentally made quite the scene too. When I was turned I woke up in a ditch on a country road. I was lucky to have been found wandering lost and confused by Namjoon before I could attack someone.”

You finally looked up at him, your gaze meeting his as you realised that even though he was the one that killed you, he had at least shown some remorse and tried to give you a better start in your unlife than he had had. Even if that did mean leaving your body in an alley.

“The person that turned you… did you ever see them again?”

A grimace appeared on his lips as his eyes hazed over in memory, “I killed her about 2 months after I woke up, with the rest of my new family’s help. We had to wait for the creator bond to wear off before I could confront her but the other members kept tabs on where she was. Turns out she was considered a criminal in the vampire world.” He saw your puzzled look. “There’s a limit on how many we are allowed to turn, to keep our numbers in check. But she went way over the limit, basically turning anyone she bit. So my revenge was not looked down upon, I was getting rid of a pest.”

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of Jungkook being able to murder in cold blood. At least your death was more or less an accident on his part. But his creator’s death was premeditated. That wasn’t the Kookie you knew. Almost as if he could sense the fear that was making itself known to you again he pulled you closer to him in an attempted to comfort you.

“I was angry, Noona, much like you were- are. I had my life snatched away from me. My future was gone. I couldn’t see my family, friends or you again. I think that’s the thing that angered me most actually. That she had stolen my opportunity to ask you on a date. Even if it turns out you would’ve rejected me, I had wanted that opportunity to see if my feelings were returned.”

He had shifted you a bit while he was talking so that he could nuzzled into your neck and take in your scent, almost like he was trying to use it to soothe himself as shadows of his hatred towards his creator returned.

“You mentioned a ‘creator bond’. What is it that exactly?”

He hesitated for a second then leaned back to look at you again.

“It’s a type of… control that allows creators to control their creations for a month after they wake. It’s how I got you to fall back to sleep.”

Your eyes widened in alarm knowing that he could take away your free will at any moment, that he had already done so once. He felt you tense.

“I promise to use it as a last resort. Like if you present yourself as a danger.”

“How can I trust you not to abuse that power?”

“Because I never wanted this for you… I love you, always have. It’s never faded. But after what I’ve done to you I don’t blame you for distrusting me… If it will make you feel more comfortable I could ask one of the members’ mates to look after you for the first month? They live next door.”

You found yourself confused again. So much so it over rid your fear. Mates? These ‘mates’ living next door?

“What are mates?”

He smiled fondly at you, you felt his grip on you tighten slightly.

“‘Mates’ is short for soulmate. You know, people we’re destined to be with. Most mates are turned by the other. Though that wasn’t the case for Jin-hyung. He said that he met his mate a couple centuries ago because she was following him. He confronted her and, apparently, she had told him she couldn’t help herself, he was just too handsome.”

You laughed. You didn’t know who this Jin was but you laughed. Because from Jungkook’s tone of voice, he didn’t believe Jin’s story. You were somewhat surprised at how short lived your anger towards him was, being replaced by curiosity instead as he explained aspects of the life you would now be living.

“If you’re destined to be with them, why do you live separately?”

“Yoongi-hyung told me it was ‘to stop an eternity together from getting boring’. And though we’re one big family, we all like to have our alone time at points. You can’t exactly have that when sharing a room.”

“You said I could live with them if I wanted to. Implying that it would be fine if I decide I want to stay here with you. Why is it fine that I stay?”

He chuckled, finding your inquisitiveness cute.

“Because you’re unmated. And you’re the newbie. It just coincidence that all the females decided to live together. We would be totally okay with co-ed housing.”

“Oh… how does someone get a mate?”

One of his arms let go of you, his free hand coming up to awkwardly scratch that back of his neck, red dusting his cheeks. You realised that he was giving you what could be considered Vampire Sex Ed.

“Well first, you have to be a vampire. Then, uh, then… then you need to um… do the do…” You giggled at his awkwardness, this was the Kookie you knew. “When doing the do… uh I mean… when you’re nearing your finish… you and your partner need to b-b-bite each other and take in some of their blood. It creates a mating bond that leaves a permanent mark on the area you were bitten.”

As Jungkook described how vampires become mates you couldn’t help but think back to how you died. He had bitten you as he came. Something in your head clicked as the two pieces of information came together.

“K-K-Kookie… I think you tried to mate with me-”

“What?!”

You saw emotions flicker across his face. First confusion, then understanding, then embarrassment.

“Oh god.” His forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he came to realise that you were probably correct. The actions of that night matching up to the actions he had just described. “Lord kill me now.”

“Where would the fun be in that? I think you should continue living so you can look at me and forever be reminded that you tried to mate a non-vampire. Live with the shame.”

“Noona~!” He howled in humiliation, his face moving from your shoulder to your neck as if doing so could help him vanish into thin air. You had to stop yourself from shivering at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“Did your hyungs not educate you well enough?”

At that he lifted his head to look at you again, looking almost scandalised that you would try and place some of the blame on his hyungs. Then a playful glare made its way onto his features.

“They did. But I think I just love you so much I temporarily lost all rationality. You looked fucking hot that night Noona. Like damn.”

A thought came to mind.

“Jungkook, you ripped off my panties that night. Please tell me I was found wearing underwear.”

“Does it look like I carry a spare pair of panties in my pocket?”

“You could have given me your own.”

“I was commando, Noona, you know that! You saw!”

“I’m sorry if my memory is a bit foggy I was DEAD for a MONTH!”

At that reminder, his face fell a little, he gaze turning away from you as he scratched the back of his neck again.

“I went back to yours and grabbed a pair before rushing back to you. So, yes, you were found wearing underwear.” A small smile graced his lips at the thought of having done something right.

You couldn’t help but stare at him as he smiled, you brain noticing how much he had changed, physically. When you had last saw him, human him, he was a sweet 14-year-old with puppy fat, wide eyes and an emo style hair do. He had very much reminded you of a cute bunny. It was part of the reason you had had a crush on him. But now the Kookie that held you in his arms was chiselled, with a jawline as sharp as a knife. His eyes were still wide and doe-like but they held a maturity to them that hadn’t been there when he was younger. He had even had a growth spurt because you could remember him being shorter than you; now he towered over you. He was no longer a small fluffy bunny but a grown predator. It made him attractive in a different way. This observation caused a new question to bubble to your lips.

“I thought vampires didn’t age. Why don’t you look the same as you did back then?”

“A lot of my physical changes happened as a direct result of being turned. It kind of put my puberty into overdrive. When I looked at myself for the first time after being turned, I had completely missed out on maturing naturally and the person staring back at me was a full-grown adult. The clothes I had worn when I was turned were very… snug.”

Your eyes widened in shock. If he had changed after being turned, had you? Your hands flew to your face mapping out the surface of it to see if you could feel any changes. All you noticed was that your lingering acne problem had disappeared.

“Don’t worry, you still look like my beautiful Noona.”

You blushed.

“You still haven’t told me if you want to spend your first month here or in the mates’ house.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I want what makes you feel most comfortable.”

You took a second to think about it before looking at him and smiling.

“I think what would make me most comfortable would be staying with familiar face.”

The smile he gave you could’ve rivalled the sun in its brightness. You felt his hand twist in the material at the base of your spine and instinctively arched into the touch. Your chest grazed his and were suddenly aware of how close you were. His eyes, slightly narrowed as he too was wrapped up in the tension, glistened in the light streaming through the parted curtains behind you. You held your breath. If you were to lean in… His head dipped, lips meeting yours tenderly, so different to the rushed hungry kisses of the night you died. You almost felt like that Jungkook and the Jungkook that held you in his arms were two different people. One was dangerous and all-consuming the other gentle and loving. He broke the kiss, pulling away to look at you with half-lidded eyes.

“I’ve missed the feel of your lips,” He breathed, eyes falling shut as he rested his forehead against yours, “I don’t expect you to forgive me easily, I know that you must resent me for what I’ve done. Nor do I expect you to love me like I do you. Knowing that you once reciprocated my feelings when I was human is enough for now.”

You felt the need to reach out to him, to comfort him. But one last thing lingered in your thoughts.

“You… On that night, you said you had been wanting me for a while, yet today you say that you never wanted to hurt me. Which one is the truth?”

“Both.”

You frowned, anger bubbling in you again but he continued speaking, not giving you the opportunity to voice it.

“After I killed my creator you were all I could think about. Were you safe? Were you healthy? Had you been accepted into that specialist highschool I had overheard you talking about every now and then in middle school? I had spent nearly every night years patrolling the area you lived in to make sure it was vampire free. There were a few incidents but they were dealt with quickly.”

He shifted the both of you so he was led on the floor with your head resting on his chest as you led beside him. One of his arms rested behind his own head while his free hand stroked your hair, the sensation soothing you causing you to relax into him.

“At the same time, I craved you. I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms, to hear you moan my name, to taste the salt of your skin on my tongue. I wanted to watch you wither in pleasure that only I could give. And until that night I had been successful in holding back those desires.”

You felt a faint trickle of desire spread through you at his words but couldn’t stop yourself from trying to embarrass him.

“And you ended up trying to mate me but killed me instead.”

“Obviously I didn’t realise what I was trying to do at the time.”

“Does that mean you would try to mate me again?”

“Would you be adverse to it?”

“Depends, will I die?”

“For fuck sake Noona, I just explained it all to you.” He playfully slapped your arm as a show of mock agitation, you looked up at him confused.

“Yeah, I didn’t feel that.”

“Really? I put at least some effort into that,” You nodded causing him to grin like a cheshire cat, “I made a sturdy one. I don’t have to worry about breaking you now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Answer my question and I’ll let you know what I meant.”

You looked away from him, a light blush on your cheeks as you thought about what he had asked moments earlier. Would you be against it? He had killed you and you were still pissed about it to an extent. But at the same time you died because he was just following instinct, he didn’t mean to kill you. And if mates were people destined to be together, was it fate that Jungkook didn’t know what the fuck he was doing? That he had unknowingly tried to mate a human.

“I’m not exactly against it. Doesn’t mean I forgive you… just… the sex was good.”

“Would you like another taste?” He said, quirking an eyebrow.

You sat up, “Another taste of what?”

“Me.”

“I don’t think I have tasted you, Kook.”

“Well, I’m not wearing underwe-”

“Are you asking me to-”

“Yes.”

“You really are a master of seduction.”

Jungkook waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t worry I shall teach you my ways”

“You ain’t teaching me shit”

“But Noona~!”

You straddled his lap causing him to look shook. You wiggled a bit to get comfortable accidentally creating friction over his crotch. Jungkook went from being shook to closing his eyes and moaning at your actions, hands coming up to your hips to stop you from moving so much.

“Noona, I need your answer, will you accept me as your mate? Because if you don’t want to or not ready then you need to get off me right now.”

You smirked, a plan forming in your mind, “And what would happen if I don’t move?”

“If you don’t then I’ll have you under me begging for me to mark you as mine. I’ll fuck you until your voice turns hoarse from screaming my name and my name alone. I won’t stop until you know how much I want you for myself. How much I need to have you. I’ve already gone so many years without you, I’m not willing to go a day more if I can.”

Your breathing stopped at the slight growl to his voice combined with his words. That little trickle of desire had suddenly become raging, you never knew such possessiveness could make you wet. He hadn’t even touched you. You placed your hands on his chest as your hips involuntarily ground against his growing hardness, a whimper escaping from you. You hadn’t realised your eyes had closed until a feral sound from Jungkook caused them to snap open. He grabbed the front of your dress, using it as leverage to pull you down into a heated kiss. You let out a little yelp as he flipped your positions then lightly bit your bottom lip. He trailed kisses from your lips to your neck, which he nipped and sucked at, creating small purplish marks that bloomed.

A small part of you realised that this was the Jungkook from that night. Yet you weren’t afraid. You were as welcoming of him now as you were back then. Your fingers clutched at his hair, breathing uneven. You felt his hands slip behind your back, locating the zipper of your dress and pulling it down. He sat back up and you noticed his eyes. They had gone from dark chocolate to coal black in his lust. Were your eyes the same?

“Dress. Off.” Came his gravelly voice and you were quick to comply, pulling the material up and over your head in seconds, tossing away.

He smirked at the sight of you, clearly enjoying seeing you in your underwear. A part of you wondered who had dressed you for your funeral because, honestly, when did a dead person need undies?

“Deep red suits you Noona but sadly that’s gonna need to come off too.”

You pouted, “It won’t be fair if I’m the only one naked.”

“Noona if I got undressed now this would end all too quickly. I want to savour this.” He took his top off anyway. “There. Does that make you happier?”

You hesitated, raising a hand to rest on his shoulder. It was the first time you had seen him shirtless and you marvelled at his muscular physique. Your hand moved to his bicep, giving it a light squeeze and feeling the hard flesh. Your other hand went to his pecs and travelled downwards to his abdominal muscles, feeling his breathing stutter as your fingers traced over a sensitive area just above the waistband of his leather pants.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You hummed and nodded, “I didn’t get to see you last time.”

“I didn’t really see you either. You were still wearing a dress back then.”

He grasped your waist and pulled you closer to him. His hands once again snaking up your back to undo your bra. When it came loose he tugged the material down your arms, carelessly tossing it behind him. His hand went to your shoulder, apply enough pressure for you to understand that he wanted you to lie back down. As you led back down a part of you wondered if vampires could get carpet burn.

You watched as he crawled up your body, his muscles tightened and relaxed as he moved, reminding you of a cheetah stalking its prey. He stopped once he was hovering over your form, his lips ghosting against yours as he rested his weight on his elbows either side of your head. You propped yourself up in order to capture his lips with your own, fed up with the distance that kept appearing between the two of you. One of your hands came up to grip the back of his hair so that the kiss wouldn’t break as you led back down, taking him with you. The kiss quickly growing in intensity; the naked flesh of your torsos coming into contact sending sparks of electricity through the both of you. Your other hand joined its partner in Jungkook’s hair, moaning into the kiss. Jungkook hips bucked against you at the sound, drawing another from you.

He was the one to break the kiss, eagerly kissing his way down to the tops of your heaving chest. You felt him gently run his teeth, no, his fangs over the tender flesh a moment before biting into it. There was a sharp pain at first that had your breath catching in your throat then coming out as a husky moan of pleasure. He moved away slightly, licking his lips, a cheeky grin appearing on his face.

“You’ll find that most vampires are sadomasochists. We naturally enjoy giving and receiving pain. Though if I remember correctly, you enjoyed being bitten as a human… until you realised you were dying.”

He went back to the bitemark, softly lapping at it to soothe the red area and a small moan slipped through your lips again. He chuckled, trailing his lips to your nipple and giving it a few quick teasing licks before taking the small bud into his mouth and sucking. This definitely felt way better than the quick fuck in the alleyway you had with him and he wasn’t even inside you yet. You knew he said he wanted to savour it but it was beginning to be too much, you wanted his teasing to stop. He pulled away from your nipple with a barely audible pop.

“I said I would make you beg for me Noona. I intended to do just that.”

He moved to your other breast to give it a similar treatment to the first making you keen and arch into his attentions, your hands’ grip tightening in his locks. But then he was moving again. His lips mapping your dips and curves while he travelled further down your body, every now and then biting you just hard enough to break the skin so he could lap up any of the delicious crimson that surfaced. Every piercing nip caused a burning pleasure to originate from the bleeding area.

“Does... my blood... really taste that good?” You managed to pant out. He wasn’t going to make you beg easily.

He hummed as he kissed the area he had just bitten, pulling back slightly to watch the bite mark heal and vanish, “Better than anything I’ve had before.”

A shiver ran down your spine as those red eyes from that night stared up at you. But it wasn’t fear.

“Do your eye always turn red when you taste blood?”

He smirked, “Yeah. Yours will do the same when you drink blood. In fact… I think you should know how it feels…”

He raised himself off you and shuffled forward, bringing a wrist to your lips.

“I’ll ask you what I did before. Would you like a taste?”

You hesitated. This was all new to you and quite honestly you felt as if you were thrown into the deep end. But you couldn’t deny, you felt a strong pull to bite down on the limb at your lips. So why fight against something so willingly offered? For the sake of maintaining humanity? You weren’t human anymore and it's not like humans are free from committing ‘monstrous’ acts.  Something in your gut told you to follow Jungkook’s orders.

Casting aside what reluctance you had, you allowed yourself to follow your new baser instincts. Lips parting to dig your fangs into the offered flesh. You marvelled at how easily it gave way. How the splash of life’s nectar that hit your tongue made you need more of it. Each gulp had you chasing a building high. Moans slipped out between every mouthful swallowed. In the back of your mind you registered Jungkook hitching your legs around his waist and his owns sounds of pleasure as he rutted against you. The whole act was carnal and vulgar and new. Your hips thrust upwards to meet him, making your high build quicker until, with a muffled scream, you came.

Jungkook ripped his arm from your mouth, not caring about the chunk of flesh it left behind, it would heal. He watched as you prepared to spit it out but he covered your lips with his hand.

“Swallow it, don’t want it going to waste now do we?”

Wasn’t that cannibalism? Surely Jungkook must’ve been joking. But his gaze was hard, no sign of amusement held in them. He was serious. With a shaky exhale through your nose, you chewed the meat, thrill seeping into your bones as the blood hidden inside was released, allowing you to swallow without a second though.

“Such a good Noona. Following my orders so nicely.” Jungkook cooed, caressing your cheek, “And as much as I would love to hear you beg, I’ve lost at my own game. I can’t wait any longer.”

He leant back, unravelling your legs from around him to slide your panties down your legs.

“It would be such a waste to ruin these. So I’ll just have to ruin you instead.”

“Yes Master.”

There was a beat of silence and then it dawned on you, what you had just said. Your face darkened in embarrassment, hands flying up to hide it. To hide you from your shame. Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head before focusing on your womanhood.

“My Noona has such a pretty cunt, I still remember how you tasted that night.”

You squealed when you felt his tongue lap at you slick.

“Your cum is so sweet, I would choose this over blood any day.”

You peeked from between your fingers, “D-d-don’t say things like that K-Kookie-” You cut yourself of with a cry when he sucked on you clit, two fingers working their way inside you.

“What happened to ‘Master’? I quite liked that word coming from those lovely lips of yours.”

You whined, turning your face away from the erotic view in front of you. Too embarrassed to look at him. “It-It was an a-HA-ccident.”

Jungkook paused, “Oh really? So you won’t say it again.”

You shook your head.

“Okay then, I guess I’ll stop.”

You snapped back to look at him, “Please don’t.”

He smirked up at you, “Then say it again. Call me ‘Master’.”

“P-please d-don’t stop M…. Master.”

Without wasting another second Jungkook had his tongue back on you, playing with your clit, his fingers curling you rub against your sweet spot. Hands tangled into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as your hips bucked up, grinding against the wet muscle that dragged out whines and pleas for more. But all too soon he was drawing away from you despite the tugs on his hair.

“As much as I’d love for you to cum on my tongue, I’d much rather you came on my cock.”

He made quick work of the fastenings of his pants and even quicker in removing them. You wiggled in anticipation of what was to come, unable to keep still in your excitement. Aligned with your centre, he pushed into you with one smooth thrust, the two of you groaning in unison.

“Fuck, so tight. So hot. Just for me.”

His head fell to nestle into you neck, his body weight supported by his forearms, the sounds of his pleasure floating directly into your ear, sending shivers of desire down your spine. You legs came to wrap around his waist yet again, anchoring him to you as you encouraged him to go deeper with breathy pleas. Your hands tried to find purchase in his back, leaving red rivulets in their wake as they dug into muscle. Nips at the delicate skin of your neck sent jolts down to your core leading you to the euphoria to come.

“Keep clenching around me like that and I’ll come too soon Noona.”

You whimpered, your high not building quick enough for you, something was missing. You wanted to cum so badly. Jungkook lifted one your legs to his shoulder, the change in angle causing his pelvis to rub against your neglected clit. You withered beneath him, his name broken on your lips, a sight he had always wanted to see and Jungkook would be damned if he didn’t commit it to memory.  Catching a nipple in his mouth, he lightly bit at the nub, little droplets welling to the surface as you gave an erotic keen making his cock twitch inside you.

“I wanna cum, please make me cum.” You sobbed, fingers digging into his back, warm wet blood slicking their tips as you accidentally broke the skin.

Jungkook growled, sweat slicked hair strands sticking to his forehead as intense crimson eyes stared into your dazed ones, “Please what?”

“Please make me cum Master, I can’t take anymore.”

“Good Noona.”

A slap to your sensitive clit was all it took to send you hurtling over the edge into rapture, your back arching as your fangs embedded into Jungkook’s throat which he willingly bore to you. So caught up in you pleasure, you didn’t hear Jungkook’s cry of release, the sound of the door opening or the feeling of your own neck being bitten.

When your senses came back to you, the first thing you noticed was that Jungkook was growling, his arms wrapped possessively around you. And as you went to pull away, he refused to do the same, effectively blocking you from being able to turn your head. It seemed rather odd to you. Well odd until-

“Dammit brat this is why we have the basement!”

[tr33-g1rl]

Here's another little glamour I made for self love and beauty! This one's a spell jar!

What you'll need:

A jar (I found a cute little heart shaped one at a craft store!)

A small item that you associate with self love, beauty, or both (Mine is that necklace with the anatomically correct heart)

A peach pit (I think I use peach pits in all of my beauty spells 😅)

Some flowers/flower petals that you feel represent you (Mine are the purple hyacinths)

Small sharp item, such as some needles from any type of coniferous tree(Preferably ones that can fit inside the bottle without breaking)/small needle/thumbtack/etc.

A bay leaf

Rain water (Not pictured)

A small piece of dissolvable candy (Not pictured, but I used a small piece from one of those stick candies that looks kinda like a candy cane but not hooked and they're more like suckers? And they have other flavors? Mine was frutti tutti, but to each his own!)

A strand of ribbon/yarn that you like (mine is that teal ribbon that has dots and candy hearts (Though you can't really tell they're candy hearts from here. Either way, I love it and that's what counts!)

Lipstick/lipgloss/chapstick/etc. (Optional)

Things to decorate the jar with (Optional)

Some fun, uplifting music (Optional)

Why I'm using these particular items:

A jar: Simple! Because I found that really cute jar and it makes me feel happy and like a really cute pastel witch that knows what she's doing (Though I hardly ever do)

Item I associate with myself: Just to kinda direct the energy of the spell. Also, because I feel like magic should always have some little personal touch. It just makes it a bit more... idk, I'm just rambling, I guess. But magic with no essence of yourself is just not as strong, I feel.

A peach pit: Peaches are always good for beauty spells and glamours. I've made a few posts about using peaches for glamours, and I feel like they really work! I usually keep them with my crystals to kinda keep them charged. Maybe it's just me, but peaches always seem to make me feel happy to the point that I'm glowing!

Flowers that represent you: Again, another personal touch. But, basically, flowers are pretty, and that's what glamours are for! The reason I don't say to use one specific type of flower is because, well, I want to be pretty in my own way! There's more than one way to be beautiful, after all!

Small sharp object: Because they represent all the ways you torment and poke at yourself, telling yourself you're not good enough. When put in the jar with rain water, they'll be washed away and caged in the jar, surrounded by so much beauty that they can't hurt you.

Bay leaf: Just for warding off bad vibes in general.

Rainwater: For cleansing and renewing.

Dissolvable candy: For sweetness and beauty.

Ribbon/yarn: just for that final touch.

Lipstick/lipgloss/chapstick: For an extra bit of self love.

Decorations: For fun and why not?

Music: To keep up good vibes as you do this.

What you need to do:

Make sure you have some time to yourself and get some good vibes going, maybe with some nice music. After all, this is supposed to be about self love and beauty!

Set everything out and get it ready.

Put in the peach pit first, since you dont want to crush everything else.

Next, put in your small item, putting it on/next to the peach pit.

Now put in your bay leaf, placing it against the side of the jar so it's not in the way.

Next comes the candy! Put it somewhere that the rainwater can reach it.

Now put in the pine needles and rainwater. Make sure to leave room at the top of the jar for the flowers.

Add the flowers on top of the rainwater. It's ok if the sink!

Now that the jar is put together, put a kiss on the bottom of the lid! You can use any lipstick/lipgloss or chapstick of your choice, if you want.

Put the cap on and tie the ribbon towards the top of the jar.

Decorate the jar, if you choose

And your done! Now you can do what you please with your jar!

[trolleytrackstravelers]

                                        - | Sacrificial Lamb | -

                                      A Toontown Rewritten Fanfic

                                Chapter One: The Devil and the Lamb

 When a hole to Toon Hell pops open in Toontown, the Devil himself answers it’s appearance by coming up topside. However, he never anticipated running into a                                         little lamb right off the bat!

A laugh, a honeyed and conceited one, rang out through the roasting hot caverns. "Jackie-boy! Tell me the good word, would'jya?"

It came from none other than Toontown's very own Beelzebub, Old Scratch and, in less formal terms, Satan and the Devil. Lucifer- Beg pardon, Lucy Loo, was reclining back at his well-kept desk, his feet propped on the polished surface. In the fires of Toon Hell that burned behind him, his red-and-yellow vest's vibrant colors fit the land just fine. There was a wicked grin on his chubby face, and as one hand drummed it's fingers against the desktop, the other was gesturing for the other demon to come in with a wry, beckoning finger. Even his tail, slender and sharply tipped, was wagging in a playful manner.

"I really needa pick up the slack, ya know?" Lucy continued, looking off to the side. "Needa kick my butt in'ta gear. Show me what'cha got."

"Mm-hmm~ You got it, boss," replied the other demon. Jack Cheatsley, formerly a cheating, sleazy Toon, had climbed his way up the ladder of the underworld with force and fame. Having landed a job as the Devil's right hand, Jack worked with pride, and a swelled sense of self worth, and it even showed in his grin and stride. The tall man approached the desk, then set a stack of papers he'd been carrying so carefully. With a wink to his name, Lucy took the papers to read over, beginning to frown. "Rumors've been spreading lately, boss. Something about them goin' after a "Slappy Quackintosh" in the Coglands. The Resistance, y'know? All those folks."

After milling over the details that Jack had described, the look on the little devil's face wasn't convinced. "Slappy? Whossat?"

"Oh, I never voted for the joker," Jack hummed, indifferent. "I was always more of a Flippy fella. See, those Toons held an election to figure out who'd take over their little town-"

The throne scooted loudly when Lucy leaned forward, putting a finger to Jack's pursed lips. "Ugh, politics? In THAT sunny-funny trainwreck of a town? Spare me the details, Jack.."

Shades of muddy red painted the ex-Toon's face, and the right-hand demon had to turn his gaze away to avoid showing off his encroaching blush. "Y- You got it, boss.. There's also rumor of some poor little deer taking a slip 'n fall, and now there's a fishing pool that turned all kindsa Gray. Somewhere smack in the center of Toontown."

Now THAT certainly caught Lucy's interest, his eyes brightening and a grin beginning to creep back up his snowy features. "... Is that right?"

"Sure is, boss." Clearing his throat, the slender demon shuffled through the papers for the stockier one, pointing out a picture of a fishing hole somewhere in Toontown Central. The water was Grayed out, and there were a few Toons standing around it, some with curious faces, and others with more worried expressions. "Poor little lady had a ‘nice fall,’ 'n her blood made the water go all Gray. A hole popped open somewhere near your building, too; Reckon it'd be an easy in and out, if you'd wanna go see it yourself."

"Easy in and out?" Lucy mirrored, his goofy glee unable to outweigh the danger in his smile. A brief tilt back in his throne, and he leapt over his desk- To the surprise of Jack, who had to back up in surprise -to begin walking to the gilded double doors of the office. His spectator shoes clicked along the stone and gnarled marble, a traceable sound amid the ceaseless crackle of flame and brimstone. "Sounds good 'ta ME! Those poor schmucks don't know the first THING about closin' up a portal 'ta Hell! Be back in five, Jackie-boy!"

"If you're not?" asked his right-hand man. Jack walked around behind the desk to push in the throne, neaten the stack of papers, and soon after, lean on the back of the cushioned chair. "Same as usual?"

The little devil nodded, halting at the doors to address Jack further. "Same as usual. Just keep the imps outta my office this time, huh? I'm sick 'a comin' back 'ta the place lookin' like a pigsty!"

"You got it, boss," Jack purred back. The doors were shut as the Devil himself left out.

It was time to pay Toontown a visit.

The issue with portals to Toon Hell cropping up was that, true to the demons' discussion, no one really knew how to close them. It was a matter of pulling people aside and looking for those who dabbled in magic, mainly the few wizards and magicians who roamed Toontown. Seldom could anyone find a pious enough Toon so devoted to the Creator, he or she could close up a portal almost permanently, if not for a very, very long time.

Where she sat kneeling, a teal lamb with frivolously curled wool was gazing into the Grayed out fishing hole of Silly Street. Lots of things tended to happen on this street, and it had caught the attention of kindly Poppy Squigglesmile! Lambs weren't too common in Toontown, but Poppy made due, and made her earnings as a resident of Toontown by gardening, with tips from a far-out filly by the name of Sunshine. Poppy's Platoonias could make even the saddest Toons smile again, for how much love and devotion she poured into her plants. A sweet young lady who favored the colors pink and cream, she only had two close friends to her name, that suited her just fine.

But, today, her normal cheerful disposition had been replaced with one of concern. She'd heard the rumors of all things Gray, and many Toons were convinced that the Cogs were trying to do something to their water supply, thanks to the most fretful of Toons trying to come up with an explanation of any kind. Poppy's brow pinched, and her hands stayed planted on the ledge of the fishing pool as she gazed down. What could be down there, now? Perhaps Cog garbage? Loose oil? Or something else? "I know you're hiding something, mister fishing pool," the lamb whispered suspiciously, beginning to lower her face down toward the water. "So don't hide anything from me!"

To her surprise and fright, a Toony-looking hand emerged from the Grayed out waters, in order to lay a finger against her rounded little nose.

"Don't hide nothin', huh?" Lucy began, propping his arms on the edge of the fishing pool with a pompous grin on his face. Poppy leapt back with a bleat, as though she'd just seen a ghost. "Well, here I am!"

"Ah! Y- You are?" she gasped back, her tone quavering back and forth with nerve. She couldn't move, stiff legged and wide-eyed. "How long were you down there, mister?"

"Name's Lucy Loo, lambface! I figure I was down there long enough, if you wanna really get into detail, heh." Turning his eyes away from Poppy, the grin on his face only widened. "Then again, I could show ya any time I wanted, really--!"

The Devil himself squeaked, squeaked LOUDLY, when the lamb fished him out of the water like a dropped doll.

"Well, mister Lucy, the Gray water is dangerous, you know! I tell you what, I'm going to dry you off, and then we can talk!" Poppy smiled, her bubbly self stepping away from the fishing pool and beginning to head down Silly Street. Her hooves clicked and clomped along the sidewalk like a horse's canter. "I'll be quick, I promise!"

"H- HEY! What's the big idea, lady?!" A bright red blush overtook the little devil's face, and he thrashed in the lamb's grip, voice cracking and squeaking. "P- Put me DOWN!!"

"I'll be quick!" she repeated, sliding around a corner on her hooves and charging off for a home that sat on the corner. Lucy's tail flailed behind them like a loose ribbon, and it made it rather hard to whip it about, or even whip her with it.

A dangerous hiss left the pint-size Satan, and he twisted to her arm, close to biting down on her peach fuzz with wickedly serrated teeth. One hard, strong crunch, and he'd be outta here. "Quick my foot! PUT ME-"

"We're here!~ I'll get you a towel!" Poppy loudly announced, opening the door with her foot and walking in. She dropped Lucy on a wide blue couch, and he stared in astonishment, mouth half-open, pointy teeth exposed. The demon quickly shut his trap, and when he frowned, his chompers were normal. The lamb scrambled across a messy floor, and she begun to dig in a closet, tail flicking excitedly. For a moment, Lucy watched her rustle through clothes and junk before looking off to his left.

A moment was taken to look over the disheveled room. She lived here, clearly, for her picture was framed up on the wall, next to a pudgy silver and pink retriever Toon, and a tall and cocksure looking rooster Toon. The room was an amalgam of aesthetics, if not a total mess, from comforting, to glitzy, to.. just there. There was soft music crackling on a radio, and the air reeked of cinnamon. But a question surfaced, when his gaze turned to the body on the wall; Who in the world owned a Cog suit, just to put it on the wall? It didn't even resemble a Cog suit, looking more like the rooster's talons had slashed up the body of a Cog, for the sake of the hunt--

A fluffy white towel was plopped on his head.

".. Gee, thanks," Lucy grumbled, lifting the towel to wipe off his soaked face. "So what's the deal, dame? What's with the snatch 'n go?"

"Oh!" The lamb turned around, and she smiled warmly, the opposite of his scowl. "Well, Gray is dangerous! My name's Poppy Squigglesmile! I live here with my buddies Domino Presto, and Gulliver Featherpow! We all pay rent, make food together, and-"

Poppy bleated softly when Lucy whipped his tail to cover her mouth. The rest of it's length looped around her wrists, and yanked her closer. The lamb nearly toppled. "Nah nah nah, that's not what I asked, missy Popsie. Why'd ya GRAB ME and RUN OFF?"

".. I was worried.. " Poppy admitted sheepishly. She rubbed her wrists together, trying to loosen the grip of the wire-thin tail that was digging into them.  "I've never seen a Toon like you before, and I was very worried something happened to you! I'm very sorry, mister Lucy, but it's not in my nature to leave behind someone in need!"

"Listen. You're a sweet girl, I kinda get that from all the lovey-dovey sweetsy stuff, but I'm not 'someone in need,' got it?" The devil air quoted in a sarcastic manner, crossing his legs and reclining back on the couch. When Poppy was released, she gently touched at her wrists, then crossed the room to head for the kitchen. "D'ya have any idea who I am?"

"A new friend, I would hope! I really hope!" she called back warmly. After a moment's rustling about in the little kitchen, she turned the corner, holding a tray of fresh, hot snickerdoodles with mango colored oven mitts. "My friends will be home soon, and I know Domino loves company! I baked, too! Would you care for some--"

Lucy's eyes practically sparkled, and with avaricious hands did he grab hold of three of her cookies, unfeeling of the heat and blissfully unaware of her look of shock. "Snickerdoodles?! Y'know- Maybe I had ya all wrong, Popsie!"

"Oh!! That's good, I think!" The lamb only giggled, as her new guest promptly crammed all three of the cookies he'd grabbed in his grinning mouth. To see someone like her work, baking or otherwise, made her day! "They're hot, be very careful!"

".. Sheesh, ya really don't know who I am.." Lucy sighed through his mouthful.

[shreddedparchment]

Shattered Glass Pt.01

Team Building

07/09/2019

Pairing: Tony x Reader, Steve x Reader          Word Count: 5,750

Prompt: “Agh I’ve been hit!” “Calm down Meryl Streep, it’s just a paintball.”

Masterpost          Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, angst, violent imagery, blood, graphic violence

A/N: I fail. This was SUPPOSED to be a one shot. FML. I can’t do it. It’ll be only two parts. Maybe three if there’s enough content? But probably just two. Don’t hold me to that though. This is my very first Tony-centric fic so hopefully it comes out well. Steve wasn’t supposed to have the part that he has in this one but it kinda just worked itself out this way. This is for @moonbeambucky ‘s #5KWritingChallenge ! When I saw this prompt it screamed Tony. Anyway, I hope you like it! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

You’re wounded!

It hurts!

“Ah! I’ve been hit!” You cry, an earth-shattering shout of agony.

You fall to your knees and clutch at the piercing in the center of your chest. Head thrown back in a silent shriek as you die.

“Calm down, Meryl Streep, it’s just a paintball.” Tony moves up beside you, carefully hidden behind a tall tower of tires. His snark is layered.

The topmost bit is all annoyance and exasperation with your over the top antics. Probably doesn’t like the competition.

The rest has to be amusement. Affection. Fondness. It’s there, though it’s hidden and carefully smothered.

You fall back, laying on the mulch and dirt of the paintball field, relaxed as you breathe in and out. There’s a large splatter of red paint on the front of your vest. You’re shot and the bright light of the setting sun dips between the swaying branches of the tall and aged poplar and spruce.

You give Tony a pout, eyes skillfully pooling. You can fake a good cry if it'll get you what you want.

“It hurts. I’m dead, Tony.” You inhale a deliberate shuddering breath as he moves to kneel beside you, yearning for his sympathy. “Nat killed me.”

He traces the still wet splatter, coating his index finger in the crimson paint as he essentially runs it down between your breasts. What you wouldn’t give for your vest to be gone.

With hazy eyes, the paint might really be blood.

“Maybe you should be paying attention then, instead of flirting with Rogers?” He counters and though usually his voice would be laced with sarcasm, the stern and serious note in it gives you pause.

Everything, every instance of flirtation with Tony has been one-sided. You throw out the bait but he never bites. He never gives away any interest.

Your shallow playfulness subsides as you consider his shift in voice.

You swallow your spit and taste the chemical flavor of paint and gritty earth. It’s acerbic and normally you’d be spitting and gagging but your heart is suddenly racing.

With a lick to your lips you narrow your eyes, taking in the strong set of his sharp bearded jaw, deep brown eyes, full peach lips, “Jealous?”

Your accusation draws his hand away from your chest but you catch it, tracing the length of his finger so slow there can be no question of your intent.

The flex of his arms, tight, lithe biceps straining against the black and gray thermal. The bright shine of his Nano housing keeps it from clinging to his hard chest. He’s ripped though Steve and Sam and everyone else keeps focus away from Tony’s almost obsessive fixation on fitness.

He holds his gun with the barrel pointed up into the air so that he won’t chance accidentally shooting you.

His eyes watch the clean pink painted nail of your middle finger as you continue to stroke his.

Time seems to stop. Not around you.

Around you, everyone is still very much diving and running, swerving and shooting. You hear the peppered cries of those being shot and those doing the shooting.

You can hear Sam swear and Clint laugh. Steve's playful battle cry and Nat's returning shout of surprise. But here in your little bubble with Tony’s hand in your grasp, things flow like molasses.

Fluid and thick, ripe with unsaid desires and forbidden pleasures that until this moment you’d assumed were only yours. You’re too young. You’re the troublemaker. You give him headaches not hardons.

“Why would I be jealous?” He asks, brow twitching as he queries. “You’re not my type.”

That doesn’t hurt. It’s not the first time he’s told you this. His gentle push to keep you at a distance. It hasn’t worked in a long time and it’s not working now. Not with the slip you just saw.

You smile wide, amused by his words. “Too damaged?”

His eyes darken, your past probably flaring into technicolor flashes in his brain, like the violent images of a snuff film and he forcefully takes his finger back.

He clenches his hand, trying to maybe erase the way it felt to have you touch him?

“Too needy.” He corrects then gets to his feet.

Well, damn.

Ouch. That one does hurt.

You push yourself up onto your elbows and watch him sneak away.

“Guess I’ll just have to find someone willing to fill my needs then.” You throw at him, hoping for some type of reaction, not giving two shits about who might hear you.

Your callous behavior pays off. He turns, fixes those chocolate browns on you and you see the shift. It makes your heart race again. There are flutters in your stomach as the fire blazes in his eyes.

It’s a wild chaotic flame that lasts for only a second before it’s calmed and left to smolder behind his shield.

He turns away and keeps going, gun raised.

He only gets to the next cover before he’s shot.

“Eyes up, Tony.” Steve teases and he looks at you then winks.

Tony drops his arms, staring at the splash of patriotic blue on his vest, then sighs. His suit is deemed illegal and he isn’t exactly great without some piece of his tech around, but damn if that brain of his isn’t sexy.

You smile at Steve, chuckling at his sweet flirting. It’s only playful and you know Steve doesn’t want you but it’s nice to be noticed as a woman instead of the kid.

"That’s the game.” Nat calls, and those left standing move towards the picnic tables where food has been laid out.

Wanda and Vision, first out as they really weren’t as competitive as the other idiots on the team, move about laying out plates and drinks.

Tony marches past where you’re still laying on the ground and doesn’t spare you a glance.

Steve’s boots draw your eyes up and you smile, squinting against the bright orange of the setting sun behind him. If flits through the trees again, gilding his already golden hair.

He offers you his hand and you take it.

“Guess we won.” He says, and you hop as you find your feet.

“Guess we did.” You agree and begin to lead the way back to the rest of the group.

“I was the last man standing.” He tells you, voice not proud, but rather curious.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking back at him with a small knowing smirk. “I know."

You stop a few feet from the group as you turn back towards them and spot Tony’s brightening expression.

It’s that look. The look he only give that one person. The most important person. The one person that he can’t live without. That person that you can never measure up to.

Her perfection. Her politeness. Her sweetness. A sweetness that you will never posses because like you told him, you’re too damaged. Too needy, like he said.

You follow his gaze, already knowing what you’ll find.

A happy Pepper wearing a cute set of work out sweats in teal and blue. She stops and holds out her hands, a look of amused disappointment on her pretty face as she lets them drop to slap against her thighs.

“Did I miss it?” She asks, her easy voice full of love for him. For Tony.

“You missed it. You’re late.” He tells her, adoration pouring from his chocolate browns.

All you ever get is his disenchantment. Disappointment that you aren’t better. That you aren’t more. Not her.

Always to be scolded and corrected.

With a drop of your heart, you stare as Tony marches right up to her and pulls her in for a kiss.

It hurts more than you’ll ever admit. Jealousy is not a good color on you. It makes you reckless and lash out.

“Don’t I get a reward?” Steve asks, again, curious, pulling your attention back to him.

He’s testing the boundaries between the two of you and if he’d done it any other time than right now when Tony’s moving towards you with his arm wrapped around Pepper’s waist, you might not have taken Steve’s bait.

You force your eyes away from the couple and look up into Steve’s storm blue twinkle.

“A hero deserves a prize.” You tell him, then wrap your arms up underneath his to stroke the muscular planes of his vested back.

You push yourself up, getting as close as your paintball gear will let you and kiss him.

It isn’t a chaste kiss either. You tilt your head to the right and suck on his lower lip until he opens up for you and you give his mouth a taste.

Spearmint and the slightest chocolate sugar of his mocha. It’s delicious but all wrong.

When you pull back, his lips remained puckered in shock.

“Thanks for winning the game for us, Cap.” You boop his nose then move to settle into a seat at the edge of the nearest picnic table and lean forward onto your elbows as you spare Tony a glance.

Beside him, Pepper is happily in shock at your display. As is almost everyone else on the team.

“When did that happen?” Pepper asks quietly in Tony’s ear and he gives his head a minute shake.

Your eyes meet his and for one long moment, you silently dare him to say something. As much as he may try to hide it, you can see the flame in his eyes, the jealous edge that cuts at your poor hopeful heart.

More than the snark, the cold fire in his eyes, and the forced calm of his form tells you all you need to know about how Tony really feels about you.

Steve comes to sit by you, leaning in to whisper happy praise for your chosen reward in your ear, and you tear your eyes away from Tony to give Steve your undivided attention.

It doesn’t stop. It never stops. The wanting and the yearning. The need to fill that hole that can never really be filled.

That incessant need to be cared for. To be given affection. That desire to feel desired and wanted.

It’s always there and it’s always been easily met with an invitation to get a cup of coffee with Wanda or Nat. Thor inviting you out for a walk. Sam reaching out for a sparring partner, or Clint needing a live target for practice.

A small gesture of inclusion and your deepest of stirrings is quelled.

You don’t like to think about why you feel this way. You dream about it enough.

Sometimes it’s a small flicker of an image here or the fading memory of something there but lately, it’s coming back vivid and violent.

It always starts out the same.

You’re small. Tiny compared to the two large bodies beside you. One to your left. One to your right.

You lean towards the one on your right at first, clinging to that person’s arm, stroking the soft satin of a fancy dress. It feels nice. It reminds you of that cat from the summer house before it went missing.

You miss that cat and its smooth fluffy fur.

Vermillion. The dress is like a blood-orange, bright and eye-catching but she smells like Chanel. The musk is thick but good, it invades your senses.

You shift on your bed, tossing onto your right.

Images of a beautiful face fill your mind like sudden bursts of color. Twinkling eyes. Full curving lips. Soft skin. An elegant neck. Austere pearls.

She caresses the side of your head then you giggle and lean onto the body on your left.

This one is large. Thick. Heavy. Fat? No. Sturdy. Stocky. Tall and built like a rhino with a rounded belly but he’s not fat.

He chuckles and wraps you up in his large, black tuxedo clad arm. You fist the side of his jacket, stroking this material too but the red satin is far softer. This musky scent is better though.

He smells like wood, with the bitter tang of pepper creosote from his cigar. You don’t mind. It smells like home. He smells safe. He smells like you’re shielded, and nothing can ever harm you.

You toss onto your back, groaning as you frown. Daddy. Your mind thinks.

The ambient whoosh draws you closer and closer to sleep.

You pass out, clinging to him, a tiny smile on your lips.

Life is perfect. The soft babble of their words helps lull you. Her tinkling laugh sounds far away but it’s beautiful and you wish you could laugh like she does.

It makes him chuckle and you can feel the love between them.

They fade away and you’re in darkness. You’re standing alone with nothing and no one around you.

Only, it’s not you. The girl is older. Much older. Like Mommy. Who is she? She looks like mommy too but not exactly. She looks like a cheap imitation. Not as beautiful. Not as sweet.

“Daddy?” You open your mouth to speak and the girl in the darkness opens her mouth to speak too.

You freeze as your young mind catches up with your dream. You’re the cheap imitation.

She takes a step forward, that mock-mommy. She splits into two. The other one turns to look at you and you’re staring at yourself, confused.

“Who-?” You begin to ask but the other one opens her mouth to ask too. “Who are-?”

She cuts you off again. You sigh.

The other you smiles, too wide. It’s scary. Your little child heart thrums wildly as fear and panic bubble up in your tiny guts.

You shift uncomfortably, fighting the terror that begins to spread through you.

She presses her hand to her chest, laying it flat against her breasts before she begins to cup it until only her fingertips are touching your shirt.

You stare at her movements, unsure of what you’re looking at.

It takes every bit of courage not to run.

She pulls her hand away from her chest and then lays it flat out in front of you.

You look down and at the very center of her palm is a small silver gleam, the brightest bit of teal at the very edges. It shimmers and shakes chaotically while the silver sits still, stretching and constricting back into place.

For a moment all you can do is stare at the silver and teal. This light is scary.

You groan, kicking your legs as your hands fist your sheets.

When you look back up at her, her eyes are gone. They are black pools of threat and your little heart panics.

The silver and teal light releases a pulse and you’re blind.

You hear panicked cries. Mommy…she’s scared.

“No.” You whimper.

Daddy’s arm is gone from you and you open your eyes to see that same silver pulsing around you.

“What’s happening?” Mommy asks, “What is that? What’s she doing?”

It takes you a moment to realize she’s talking about you.

Daddy is forcing the steering wheel to the left and the right. The sounds of the tires squealing against the asphalt of the road is loud and nearly drowns out their screams. Almost.

“Hold on!” Daddy shouts, but the light flashes once more and the car is suddenly up in the air.

You can see Mommy and Daddy floating around you. They’re not moving and you’re safe beside them.

It’s all over in one violent tumble.

The car lands with a loud metallic clatter. It rolls and rolls, tossing them around with abandon. You hear their bones crack and break. Femur, humerus, ribs, neck; one sickening crunch after the other.

Crimson paints the air, it paints the car and the pavement beneath.

As the shatter of glass dies and your body falls painfully onto the street between them, you look around, searching for that safety from before. Searching for Daddy. For Mommy.

“Mom…” You cry.

Your eyes meet hers. Dead eyes. Unmoving eyes. She’s gone.

Your own small body feels twisted and battered but not broken. Not like them.

There is no crimson on you that is yours and something in you tells you that it’s you. You did this.

Even as a baby, a little one, you know that you did this. You killed your parents.

“Mom!” You gasp, sitting up with spasms of fear shaking your hands.

They tremble, clutching the thin sheet you’re covering yourself with in tight fists. It all feels so…present.

“Y/N? Your heartrate is elevated. You seem to be having an episode. Shall I alert the infirmary?” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s accented voice fills your room with a soft worried whisper.

It always astonishes you, how concerned she seems. Like she’s really genuinely worried about you. Like she can really feel it. Like she’s not just a bunch of ones and zeroes programmed to have just the exact right responses.

“No.” You tell her, and she turns up your lights for you, dimming them up slightly as you throw your blanket off and place your feet on the soft black carpet of your bedroom.

You’re still reeling, trying to come to grips with the here and now and not the lifeless bodies of your parents floating around your head. Instead of your parents, in your room there are several small objects floating above their designated spots.

Your glass jewelry box on your nightstand. Your laptop. Several books on your desk. The picture of you and the team on your nightstand. Your shoes by the end of your bed.

“Are you sure?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. persists. “You seem to be having a fit.”

You scoff. Only one person would call what’s happening that.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Shutting your eyes, you sigh, heartbeat finally leveling out.

“Would you like me to tell Tony-?”

“No!” You nearly scream, rising to your feet and looking for a face though you know there’s none to look at. “No. I’m fine. I just…give me a minute.”

Your stuff falls, crashing back into place. You hear the glass of your jewelry box shatter. You’ll have to buy a new one.

You stumble to the bathroom and switch the light on. Your bare feet slap gently as you cross the cold beige and gold marble tile to the sink with a quiet plap, plap, plap.

The counter becomes your center. You cling to the white concrete desperately as you stare at your reflection in the large backlit mirror.

You’re pale and sweaty. Clammy. Cold trickles of perspiration along your temples and above your lip. With trembling hands, you wipe it away.

This hasn’t happened for so long that it’s caught you off guard. Normally, there’s a build-up. The memories start slowly during waking hours. Small images of lovely people, loving and caring. Over time it all leads up to that night.

The night you killed them.

You shut your eyes tight, wishing the images away. All you can see are your mom’s eyes. Once brilliant with life not dead and staring. Daddy’s body twisted in strange and impossible angles.

You dip down into your sink and down as much water as your belly will let you drink.

It doesn’t help. Maybe a real drink? You have one so rarely. Drunk you is not good with your abilities.

Mistakes have been made. Bail has been paid. It’s how you ended up here. On the team.

Tony should have left me where I was.

The bitter thought falls away as you wander down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Thankfully, it’s empty.

You go straight for the whiskey. You pour yourself too much. You drink it. Then pour another glass before moving to sit at the island.

The brown slosh hurts your throat as it goes down. It burns, but it burns so good. Because you don’t drink very often, just one glass makes you lightheaded. The second pushes you towards unconsciousness.

Not fast enough. You start with it held between your carefully folded left arm, right hand clutching the small old-fashioned crystal glass tight as if you’re afraid it might get snatched away. As you drink, you drift forward until your heated cheek is pressed against the cool counter.

You kick your legs, swinging them casually as you stare across the kitchen at the fine, black modern cabinet. Not really seeing it but playing the moment you killed your parents over and over and over.

You see other moments too. The moment your godparents saw you use your abilities. They watched you with terror in their eyes. The next thing you knew you were in a home for girls.

You see the nice couple who took you next. Then the girl’s home again when they too became terrified of you. Then the next. A faceless couple that you were with for only two days. Then the next two were also faceless.

You lived your adolescent life out in the home.

You see yourself on your eighteenth birthday. You’re excited, dancing with the prospect of becoming a “real” woman. Or so you’d thought at the time.

You come home, smiling at the promise of the cheap birthday cake that you know you’ll get. You see your smile waver as you approach the fence of the home and two boxes full of your things are piled on the sidewalk.

Two homeless women are rifling through the clothes. Fighting over your favorite pair of jeans.

You scamper towards them, hold out your hand and you don’t mean to slip up. You don’t.

Stunning silver-teal burns them. They fly back several feet and crash against the sidewalk painfully as you hold your hand out towards them, palm open.

You shut it quickly and turn away from them as they stare at you with hate and fear. You hurry and shove your clothes back into the box they’d been looking through and shut it.

With both boxes carefully piled into your arms, you look up at the doorway to the home. Your home…Mrs. Meyerson watches you through a split in the blinds of the front window and when she sees you spot her; she shuts them and ignores you.

“Y/N?” His voice is like the hymn of angels.

It’s hot. It burns like your whiskey and tastes just as rich.

“Tony.” You whisper, a sad whimper.

You don’t lift your head because you’re crying. You don’t want him to see.

“Hey.” His voice is so soft. So gentle. F.R.I.D.A.Y. must have told him something was wrong.

He moves around you and comes into view, leaning forward a bit so that he can be more on your level as he looks at your face, still pressed against the cool counter.

“Hi.” You cry.

“Busted out the big guns, huh?” He reaches out and takes your drink from you.

You don’t fight him. The only one who you wouldn’t.

“They didn’t want me.” You sigh, sniffling as you struggle to keep from sobbing. That hole, the one that never fills right at the center of your chest aches. “None of them wanted me. They…they were afraid of me.”

Tony puts the whiskey aside and leans his elbows against the counter, getting close so that he can speak quietly. Just to you.

“Having a little pity party?” He asks, a small smile offered. “You’re drunk.”

“Yes.” You agree, reaching up to wipe at your dripping nose.

“That’s sexy.” He rattles, moving closer to stand beside you.

He’s close. You can feel the heat from his body. Dark gray t-shirt. Black sleep pants. He smells so good. Like aftershave and coconut shampoo. Despite his close proximity, he folds his arms onto the counter, shoving his hands underneath his arms as if he’s determined to keep his hands to himself.

You lean towards him but don’t touch him. He doesn’t want your touch. You know that. It makes you sob once.

“Tony?” You sigh, staring down at your hands in your lap, lower lip quivering helplessly as you’re that little girl again. Wrapped in her daddy’s safe arms. Loved by her mom. Peacefully sleeping when that nightmare awakens something within you and then the car is sent flying.

“Yeah?” He knows what he’s doing. He’s being so careful with you.

His tone is softer than it’s been in a long time. You know that it’s your fault. You’re always so forward. Throwing yourself at him. Making suggestive comments and just being a downright dumbass. You should stop it.

You look at him, blubbering still and the way that his soft brown hair sticks up at odd angles because he’s just freshly showered and was actually probably still bathing when F.R.I.D.A.Y. told him you were having a fit.

You want him. Damn it all.

With a lick to your lips, you shake your head. “I killed them, Tony.”

You sob, hating yourself. Hating your gifts. Hating your life.

“I killed them. I did. I did that. I killed them.” You repeat, as if saying it any other way will possibly make it stick any harder than it’s already sticking.

It startles you into silence when Tony pulls his left arm out and then slides his hand back behind your neck, up into your hair to hold the back of your head. He caresses you, comforting you. Loving you?

That isn’t platonic in his eyes. There’s that fire from the day on the paintball field in his eyes again. When you told him you’d go find someone else to fill your needs. When you kissed Steve.

It’s there. You can see it. Up close. He wants you. Like you want him. Why won’t he—oh, right, Pepper.

With his hand on you though, you can’t focus on her enough to care.

You lean in more towards him, burrowing into the crook of his arm. For one whole second he holds you tight. He wraps you up and pulls your head against his chest and you’re right where you want to be.

Then there’s the sound of feet from the hallway and he’s leaning against the far counter while you catch yourself on the edge of the island.

You stare up at him, still crying and now confused.

“Tony?” You ask, searching his face but he’s got his back to you now as he dumps out your whiskey.

“No more alcohol. We don’t need you lifting cars onto the roof again.” He throws at you, back tense through his t-shirt.

“Tony?” You check again, wanting to see his eyes, to have him look at you with that fire again.

Had you imagined it? Is it all in your head?

“Look, kid, just take a shower and get to bed, alright? Stop thinking about this stuff.” He orders.

Does he think you started to think about your parents on a whim? You’d dreamt about them! Bastard.

“Tony?” Another voice, deep, smooth, almost monotone in its calm nature.

You can hear the inflection of emotion because you’re so used to his voice. Steve.

“What’s going on?” He asks, looking from Tony to you.

“I…I had-” You begin but Tony cuts you off.

“A few too many. I was just sending her to bed before she puts my cars on the roof again.” He finally turns around and his face is back in its detached control.

When he looks at you, there is no fire anymore. Just stern disapproval.

Jerk.

Your shoulders slump and you make a point of sitting quiet as Steve continues to stare at you.

Clearly, you’re still upset about something. You’re still crying. Your cheeks are stained in tear tracks. You worry your lip as you wait for Tony to leave. You don’t want to be around him when he’s like this with you.

Not right now. Not when you already have all of those other people in your memory pushing you away.

“What’s the matter with Y/N? Why is she crying?” Steve wonders, genuine concern in his voice.

Tony’s had been just as worried if not more so a second ago.

“I don’t know.” Tony lies. “I’m going to bed. Pepper’s waiting.”

He says this for you, and you know that he’s drawing that line again. The line that he crossed. Continues to cross. You hate him.

You look at him.

You love him.

“Night.” Steve tells him but when Tony speaks, it’s for you.

“Go to bed. Stop drinking.” He says but you don’t respond.

He leaves and Steve settles into the seat beside you.

“You smell like the bottom of a bottle.” He observes. “How much did you have?”

You shrug.

“Not talking to me now?”

You shrug again.

“Y/N?” It’s his tone that pulls your gaze up to meet his own storm blue eyes.

His blonde hair looks soft and brushed out. His beard is full but neatly trimmed. He looks good for Steve.

Okay…he looks good for anyone. He’s a hunk. But he’s not your hunk.

“What’s going on?” He asks, reaching out to place his hand on the back of your shoulder.

“I had a nightmare.” You admit, licking your lips once more. “About my parents.”

Steve already knows what happened with your parents. He doesn’t need an explanation.

Tony had consulted him before you were allowed on the team after all.

He nods, understanding you in an instant. For a long moment he thinks.

You can see the idea forming in his head and only after you’re stuck staring at him with unbridled curiosity does he turn to sit facing you. One hand on the back of your chair, the other placed on the counter in front of you.

“I like you.” He says, just like that.

You’re drunk. Hearing him say that, throws you.

“What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him confused. You must be hearing things.

“You heard me.” He says, stern, hard. No games.

“Steve…” You start, blinking hard to clear the buzz from your head.

“I know…” He sighs, scooting in closer as he grabs hold of your seat and turns you to face him. “I know where your head is. And your heart.”

Your cheeks flare. They flame and burn, and your neck burns too. You haven’t exactly tried to hide how you feel about Tony but to be called out on it?

“I can’t speak as to where his head is at, but I know that he’s not going to look your way with Pepper there.”

You hate Steve too. You look down at his chest, hating the knowing glint in his eyes.

His thumb and forefinger close around the tip of your chin and tilt your head back until you can look into his eyes again.

“What I can tell you is that I’m interested. I wasn’t playing when I said and did all those things. I don’t know if maybe you thought I was just flirting, but I wasn’t. I like you.” He confesses.

You’re so startled that your heart pounds. You shake your head, but he doesn’t release you. If anything, he leans in closer.

“I can’t give you what you want.” You tell him, knowing that all deep affection is diverted to the jerk that just left the room.

“I know.” He acknowledges. “What can you give me?”

Is he seriously asking?

“I-”

“It doesn’t have to be detailed, Y/N. I just…I’m not exactly in a place to make commitments either. This job we have, it’s tough. I’ve left love behind for it before and odds are, I’ll have to do it again. I’m not going into this with any illusions. I just want to pass the time with you.

“You’re funny and you never do what I expect you to do. You’re easy to talk to and you’re sexy as hell.” He smiles and you’re suddenly very aware of your stupid blubbering face and how much of a mess it actually is.

“Yeah, right.” You gasp, yanking your chin out of his grip.

“You are.” He insists. “You’re not like other people and I like that. So, what can you give me?”

You think. You think hard and as fast as you can.

He’s right. Tony is never going to give in. He’s never going to look at you the way you see him. You’re tired of feeling alone and unwanted. Steve is offering you a little bit of companionship. It’s not love but it’s not being alone.

Maybe you should know better but it’s too tempting. And it’s been a while. Your libido is going to go dormant if you don’t get under someone soon.

That’s what you decide you can give him.

“I can’t love you.” You tell him.

“That’s…that’s okay.” He says.

“I think I can like you.” You sigh. “Kissing you wasn’t bad.”

“Oh,” He chuckles. “That’s good to know. Thanks.”

You smile, eased by his amusement. He’s right. He’s easy to talk to as well.

With trembling hands, you reach up to trace the outline of his chest through his t-shirt. He’s so hard. Super Soldier perfection. It doesn’t mean as much like Tony’s physique does because Steve gets this on default, but you’d be lying if you said it isn’t nice.

He puts his hand over yours and holds it against his chest.

“Is this a yes? You’ll be with me?” He asks, hopeful.

After a second, you nod. He leans in towards you, excitement in his eyes.

“We’re not a couple.” Your clarification stops him in his tracks. “But we’re also not, not a couple. I want you. I do. It’s been such a long time and I…are you a virgin?”

You suddenly ask him this, wondering because of his past with Peggy. You’re not sure he would have had the time to be with her back then.

Steve laughs genuinely amused by your question before he hops off of his stool. He grabs you, one arm underneath your legs, the other your back as he lifts you up into his arms and begins to walk with you towards his bedroom.

“Guess that rumor’s still floating around. Nat?” He asks.

You nod, reaching up to hold him around his neck.

“Don’t worry, doll-face. We’ll get that rumor cleared up.”

“Right now?” You ask, slightly startled at the prospect of sleeping with Steve so quickly.

“Unless you wanna wait?” He asks, stopping just outside your doorway.

You bite your lips, considering for a moment the prospect of sleeping in that bed again, your dreams fresh and vivid.

“No.” You protest. “Kiss me, Steve.”

He dips his head and continues on, kissing the whiskey away.

Support me on Ko-fi

Forever Tag List @jessieray98 @crist1216 @rainbowkisses31 @xxloki81xx @the-wayward-robot @quokkatrash @tiffanynguyen03 @basementcafe @kind-sober-fullydressed @moli1497 @badassbaker @awkwardfangirl2014 @shield-agent78 @supernaturaldean67 @sea040561 @jewelofwinter @this-side-of-midnight5 @sebbystanlover-vk @just4muggles @death-unbecomes-you @lilulo-12 @whosmarisaaarw @hiddles-rose @pandazlazykid @alagalaska @theonelittleone @xlittlestarling @moonlessnight14 @natura1phenomenon @pineapplebooboo @spaghettirogers @dsakita @sincerelytlh @booklover2929 @lovefreylove @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @vulpecula-minor @the-real-mary-jane @babytrollgirl @wildefire @fairislesheets @mother-of-fire-snakes @xrosegoldwolfx @queenoftheunderdark @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thefridgeismybestie

Shattered Glass @shikin83  @officialmarvelwhore @the-ayo-lit

[jr8662931]

Easy Ideas to Mix and Match Linen Bedding

Your bedroom is the perfect place to unwind, relax, recharge and retreat after a long day. For this reason it should resonate with your taste, style and also look welcoming and inviting at the same time. A bedroom that is tastefully done can instantly ease every locked muscle just by the serenity and calm it possesses. Plush and luxurious bedding can find their way to anyone’s bedroom but where is the fun in spreading a bed sheet out of a box? They look monotonous and give away the feeling that the bedroom is not well-thought out, just done haphazardly without any effort put into it.

When it comes to bedding there are a million ways to spruce up the bed-in-a-box bedding. Mixing and matching decorative pillows, throws, adding linen bed skirts and cozy comforters to the mix will give the feeling of a bedroom that will make your days better and nights tempting. Nowadays with busy lifestyles, hectic schedules and exhausting work routines, leaves us with so less energy that bed-in-a-box beddings are the best and most convenient option. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t go for them; you must if you find the right color, pattern, material or design, just don’t place them as it is.  Not every bedding you find in the box is exciting; some are just a dizzy combination of patterns, a hefty mix of colors and a forced kaleidoscope of prints.

Coordinating different sets of bedspreads that look synchronized when put together can be a challenging task, no doubt about that. Bringing together colors, patterns and prints from various sets, making them look harmonious together seems a jarring and time-taking task, but don’t burden yourself, this is where we come to your rescue. We have compiled in this article some tried and tested mixing and matching techniques that will work for each and every one out there but still have a feeling of individuality to them.

We allow the much needed room for personal touches while letting you in to some secrets that will change the way your perceived beddings and will never settle for the bed-in-a-box beddings. According to me, mixing and matching bedspreads is a form of art, it requires aesthetic sense, color knowledge and most of all everything should tie together in the most natural way. Your linen bed skirts should elevate the whole look rather than a clutter on the floor, the decorative pillows should add a depth and dimension to the bed and the comforter should create a beautiful layered bed.

Selecting bedspreads that will be a perfect fit for the bedroom is a hard find. Although there shouldn’t be any reservation about the fabric, as told in our many articles, pure linen is the best material ever. Other doubts that can complicate things are color combinations, patterns and prints. With the right combination of pattern, color and prints your room can be the picture perfect room you wish to have or see in magazines. So let me guide you to the path that would lead to that kind of bedroom.

Do the Basics Right

When aiming for a good mix and match of your bedding, one must have the basics right so that all the efforts don’t go in vain; a plush headboard, linen bed skirts, linen bed sheets and comfortable mattress. Build a neutral base and work your way from there by adding patterns, stripes, prints or pops of colors into the mix.

Opt for the Natural and Earthy Tones

Pure linen is the best fabric if your style is muted and more subdued. It’s soft, plush, informal and oh so classy. It provides the perfect base for you to play with and give countless opportunities to explore. A self-printed duvet cover offers a nice breakthrough, or striped pillows covers break the monotony with just the right amount of dimension. You can also go for a statement rug or a wall art without perturbing the actual bedding. Beige, ivory and earthy tones complement each other very well if done right, no need to add pops of colors.

Pastels Color Palette

Mix and match bedding in pastel colors is also a sure shot way to make your bedding not as mellow down like beige toned bedding but just the right balance of color and subtlety. Tea pinks, dusty peaches, lemon yellows, powder blues and light greens look perfect with any neutral color bedding. Opt for a honeycomb weave blanket or throw in one of these colors and pair it up with light greys, ivory, beige, taupe or fawn. You can also opt for mix and matched pillow and cushion covers in 3-4 of the pastel colors all resting on a neutral color bedspread.

Shades of One Color  

Mixing and matching shades of one color like blue makes things interesting, calming and beautiful. The main bed sheet should match the color story of the room and then add on with other shades of the color and introduce them in pillows, duvets, comforters or throws. This harmonious melody of colors from the same parent color looks amazing. To make things really work, add textures and prints and patterns in the supplementary colors to make everything fresh and sophisticated.

Go for Bright, Vibrant Colored Tones

Ok so enough of the low-key, discreet and toned-down mix and match, what about those who love pops of color and like to stir up things. Deep jewel tones are best for your taste, purples, fuchsia, mauve, teal and deep blue look so symphonic together. Go for a plain colored bed sheet in one of the colors and do pillowscaping in different sizes (square, rectangle, circle) in other colors adding instant interest and making a head-turning room.

Strike a Balance with Colors and Patterns

Colors and patterns complement and supplement each other very nicely, making the room a heady concoction of the best things. Spread a white sheet and place mismatched throw pillows in different patterns like floral, geometrical and striped. Place a printed duvet cover on the bed but keep the color story same for everything making the bedroom fun, eclectic and eccentric.

Last Words

Mixing and matching can be done in many ways, with thousands of combinations and probabilities of a million different styles. It depends on your taste, the availability of products and what resources you have on hand. But be sure to apply these ideas to have a great starting point, while adding your personal touch to it, in order to make it unique.