#writing them stealing jewelry for each other was exactly what I needed to do

[thelastspeecher]

For the prompt, how about the werevamp au where Stan and Angie celebrate Chistmas together since Angie can't exactly go home to her family to celebrate, but also it's also Stan's first actual Christmas

I wanted to include something at the end about Angie asking Stan when Jewish holidays are so they can celebrate them together, too, but I liked it ending like this.  So here, have Stangie celebrating Christmas in a cheap motel room with a sad Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

              Stan wokeup freezing.  Without opening his eyes hereached out for Angie.  His hands brushedagainst blankets, but not Angie’s warm body. He opened his eyes.  He was alonein the bed.

              “Angie?”he asked.

              “I’m overhere, darlin’,” a soft voice said.  Stansat up with a groan.  He lookedover.  Angie was crouched on the sill ofthe only window in the cheap motel room, staring outside with a distantexpression.

              “What’swrong?”

              “Nothin’.  It’s just…” Angie sighed.  “I can’t believe it’sChristmas Eve.”

              “Oh,yeah.  It is.”  Stan got up from the bed and walked over tohis girlfriend.  “Merry Christmas,” hesaid, putting a hand on her shoulder. Angie sighed again.  “Babe,somethin’s wrong.  What is it?”

              “I can’tremember any of my fam’ly’s holiday traditions,” Angie said after a moment.  “I- I know we had ‘em.  I have this- this vague memory of warmfeelin’s and comfort.  A full stomach.  But I can’t remember anyone involved, or whatexactly we were doin’, and-”  Sheswallowed.  “What sort of Christmastraditions does yer fam’ly have?”

              “Uh,none,” Stan said.  Angie stared athim.  “I’m Jewish.”

              “…Oh.”  Angie’s mouth quirked in a small grin.  “Didn’t know there were Jewish vampires.”

              “Didn’tknow there were Christian werewolves.”

              “Touche.”  Angie looked out the window again.  She wrapped her arms around herself.  “I just- I want to celebrate with my fam’ly.”

              “Youmight not be able to celebrate with them, but you’ve got me,” Stan said.  Angie managed a small, weak smile.  “Whattaya wanna do?”

              “Gocaroling.”

              “Uhh…”

              “I’mkidding,” Angie said, nudging him.  “But jokin’aside, it might be nice to get a tree.”

              “It’sChristmas Eve.”

              “Mm-hmm.”

              “You dorealize that if we manage to find a tree, it’s gonna be one of those shittyCharlie Brown ones, right?”

              “It’sstill a tree.”

              “Yeah.  Okay. Lemme get dressed.”  Stan walkedover to the chair he had tossed his clothes onto the day before.  He picked up his shirt and sniffed itidly.  “Did your family go to church onChristmas Eve?  My high school girlfriend’sfamily did.”

              “I haveamnesia, I don’t-”  Angie paused.  “No, wait. I do remember.  Yes. We did.”

              “So youguys were like, Christian Christians.”  Deciding the shirt didn’t smell too bad, Stanslipped it on.  “I shoulda figured.”

              “How couldya have figured it out?  I didn’t realizeI grew up goin’ to church until ya just asked me.”

              “A fewthings.”  Stan tugged on a pair of pants.  “You never say ‘God’, you say ‘Lord’ or ‘goodness’.  You corrected a Bible quote we saw the otherday.  And whenever we’re around jewelry,you go right for the crucifix necklaces.”

              “Huh.  Yer right, there were a lot of ways to figureit out,” Angie said softly.  Stan turnedaround.  “Why are ya wearin’ thoseclothes again?” Angie asked.

              “They don’tsmell.”

              “Not toyou,” Angie muttered.  She got down fromthe windowsill.  “A few things are comin’back to me.”

              “Yeah?”

              “Yeah.”  Angie furrowed her brow.  “When we went to the Christmas Eve service,my older brother would always fall asleep. And my- my older sister…  We hadto dress up, so she’d braid my hair fer me.”

              “You havea brother and sister?”

              “…Iguess.”

              “Do youremember their names?” Stan asked.  Angieshook her head.  “You’ll remembereventually.”  Stan shrugged on hisjacket.  “What’s the flavor ofChristianity your family practices?  Newand Improved or Classic?”  Angie staredat him, bemused.

              “Wh-which branch of Christianity is which?”

              “Catholicsare Classic, and the other one is New and Improved.”

              “Hon, that’snot-”  Angie shook her head.  “Okay, well, Classic.”

              “You’reCatholic?”

              “Yep.”  Angie frowned, thinking.  “I remember vaguely learnin’ prayers thatweren’t in English.”

              “Latin?”

              “No…”  Angie shook her head again.  “I could almost hear one of ‘em, but it’sgone.”  She looked up.  “Let’s go get us a tree.”

----- 

              Stan dugthrough the grocery bag.  Angie hadinsisted that they not steal on Christmas Eve, but he wanted to make sure thatshe didn’t see the one item he had surreptitiously pocketed at the store.

              “Youreally should shower,” Angie said.  Shewas decorating the tree they had found at the lot.  It looked exactly as Stan had warned:scraggly, tiny, and losing needles with every jostle.  Angie carefully draped a cheap garland overthe tree’s branches.

              “I showeredyesterday.”

              “Youshowered three days ago.”  Angie lookedat Stan.  “I love ya to bits, but I havea wolf’s nose, Stanley Pines.  If ya goone more day without takin’ a shower, I will hose ya down myself.”

              “Don’t offersomething if you don’t plan on following through.”

              “Itwouldn’t be sexy,” Angie warned.  Stansnorted.

              “That’swhat you think.”

              “No, Imean it.  Think less ‘we are bothunclothed and there are soap bubbles everywhere’ and more ‘I am fully clothed,holding you down while I hold the shower directly over yer head like I’m givin’a dog a bath’.”

              “…Could stillbe sexy.”

              “Lord,yer insufferable.”

              “You knowit, babe.”  Stan found the small box hewas looking for, slipped it into his back pocket, and kissed the top of Angie’shead.  She swatted him playfully.  “When do we put up our socks for free candy?”

              “Afteryou shower.”

              “Fine,fine.”  Stan strode into the bathroom,whistling.  He paused before closing thedoor.  “Hang on.”

              “Stan, Imean it, I can’t deal with yer stink much lon-”

              “Did youjust say you loved me?” Stan asked. Angie stilled.  “If you did, I’d-”

              “Justshower,” Angie said in a small voice.  “Please.”

----- 

              Tenminutes later, Stan opened the bathroom door to let the steam out while hefinished toweling off.  He paused.  Someone was singing.

              “O, holynight, the stars are brightly shining…” Stan stuck his head out.  Angiewas sitting in front of the tiny tree, her eyes closed, singing.  A small smile began to spread across Stan’sface.

              I don’t get to hear her sing very often.  He cleared his throat.  Angie looked over, startled.

              “That wasnice.”

              “…Thanks,”Angie mumbled, her face pink.  She duckedher head.  “And thank you fer showerin’.”

              “Eh, Iwoulda had to shower soon anyways, if I wanted to maintain my impeccablehairstyle,” Stan said, gesturing to his mullet. Angie snorted.  “You should singmore.”

              “I don’tknow.  I feel so strange singin’ in frontof people,” Angie said quietly.  Stanwalked over, only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.  He sat on the floor next to her.

              “I’m ahomeless vampire.  Pretty sure I don’tcount as people.”

              “Nah, youdo.”  Angie leaned against him.  “By the way, earlier, when I said I loved you…”

              “Yeah?”

              “I meantit.”  Like her, Angie’s voice was soft,but full of warmth.  “And it ain’t someStockholm Syndrome thing, neither.  You-yer a good man, and you challenge me and take care of me and-”  Angie kissed Stan on the cheek.  “I can’t think of anything else to describemy feelings fer you.”

              “Not justreally good friends?”

              “No,Stan.  I love you.”  Angie’s eyes caught his determinedly.  “I mean it.” Stan stared back at her silently, at a loss for words.  Finally, he cleared his throat.

              “Okay,uh, yeah, uh, I guess, uh-”  He clearedhis throat again.  “I’ve got somethingfor- uh-”  He rushed back to thebathroom.

              Dumbass, why’d you put it in your pantspocket if you were gonna take your pants off right away?  Stan dug hurriedly through his pile of clothes.  Ha!  He grabbed the small box from earlier andreturned to where Angie was sitting. Angie cocked her head at him curiously.

              “What’sgoin’ on?”

              “Here.”  Stan handed her the box.  Angie shot another confused glance in hisdirection before turning her attention to the box.  She slowly opened it.

              “Oh.”

              That’s it?  An “oh”?

              “You hateit,” Stan said, dejected.

              “No,”Angie said.  She removed the necklacefrom the box.  “No, Stan, I love it.”  She let the chain of the necklace slipthrough her fingers to admire the crescent-shaped charm.  “A lil moon.”

              “‘Causeyou’re a werewolf.”  Stan rubbed the backof his neck.  “Girls like sparkly things,and you always get excited when we go to a store with jewelry, and you don’thave any jewelry, so I figured-”

              “This iswonderful,” Angie said softly.

              “It’s nota cross, though.  You always look at thecrosses.”  Stan scratched his cheek.  “I’m allergic to religious shit, so that’swhy I didn’t get the cross, but it’s still not-”

      ��       “Shut yeryap and help me put this on, would ya?” Angie interrupted.  Stan grinned. Angie handed him the necklace and turned around.  Stan carefully clasped the chain.  Angie turned around again.  The necklace sparkled on her sweater.  “Does it suit me?”

              “Babe,everything suits you,” Stan said earnestly. Angie laughed.

              “Stan,this was a wonderful Christmas present. Thank you.”  Her eyestwinkled.  “I actually got you somethin’,too.”

              “Really?”

              “Mm-hmm.”  Angie nodded at the tree.  A box was resting underneath it.  “Go ahead. Open it.”  Stan eagerly ripped thebox open.  His eyes widened.  “I saw you lookin’ at those watches.”

              “Oh,hell, yes,” Stan breathed.  He slid thewatch onto his wrist.  “Now my wristlooks way classier than the rest of me. It’s perfect.”  Angiechuckled.  “How did you afford this?”

              “…I didn’t.”

              “Ithought you said you didn’t wanna steal on Jesus’ birthday.”

              “Hisbirthday’s tomorrow.  Not today.”

              “Myhabits are rubbing off on you.”

              “Yep.”

              “Probablynot a good thing.”

              “Fer ahomeless vampire and werewolf, I think it’s perfectly fine.”  Angie leaned in and kissed Stan on thelips.  “Merry Christmas.”

              “MerryChristmas.”

[villainess-supremacy]

headcanons of the four lords celebrating pride for the first time with their s/o

notes: you told them that it's pride month and asked if they would like to celebrate with you. none of them have ever celebrated pride before. I made the lords and s/o queer because I can

type: sfw, gender and sexuality of the s/o are not specified

tw/cw: slight mention of alcohol, blood, lgbtphobes

requests: open

Alcina Dimitrescu

her daughters have mentioned pride month before, but she's not sure what it entails exactly

you gladly explain it to her in detail!

she loves the idea since she is fruity herself loves celebrating for such a wonderful reason

you being part of it makes it so much better

and a whole month?? she's in

she would love to go to pride events with you, but she's afraid other mortals will be scared of her due to her height so you decide to just have your own celebrations in the castle

you love watching movies together so you show her all of your favorite queer movies and shows

you bought a pride flag to hang up below the balcony in the entrance hall

she loves the smile on your face when you proudly look up at it

"maybe we should extend pride to be all year if it makes you this happy, my love."

she already regularly gives you presents, but during the entirety of pride month she additionally leaves little gifts for you in your shared bedroom, the kitchen and all of your favorite places in the castle

and that daily

if there is any queer owned shop you like she will literally buy their entire stock

if there are any charities you mention she will gladly donate in your name and give you the certificate as a surprise

she realizes that something about June just makes her want you even more in general, in the private chambers, whichever is up to you wink wink

as a surprise she decides to make a special wine without blood of course named after you and your sexuality/gender if you use labels, but in fancy Latin words

she loves to drink, but of course watches over you so you don't have too much

mortals don't process it as well as she does...

if you come across any lgbtphobes and are noticeably saddened she will be there to distract you right away

everyone who dares to make her love sad will feel her wrath! be ignored since they're not worth her time

but if she finds out that anyone in the village doesn't support you or anyone who is part of the lgbt community, they will be forced asked to vacate their home

she will pamper you and shower you with her love even more

you once jokingly say "be gay do crime and turn maidens into wine" and she makes it her new motto but she's serious about it

Donna Beneviento

she knows a couple things about pride since she reads a lot, but you're so excited to tell her about it she simply lets you talk

you'd love to go to pride events with her but she's too shy and tends to have anxiety attacks when around too many strangers so she sends Angie instead

afterwards she will gladly listen to both of you tell her all about it!

she has her own collection of books that have queer characters in them which she never told anyone about before you and will read all of them with you if you like

there will be regular dates picnics while Angie takes care of the house

she's a cottage core sapphic and pride month brings out that side of her more

she has made dolls for you before, but this time she makes one that looks just like you

it has a pride flag embroidered on the top above the heart

of course you love it!

you're so glad that she accepts every part of you

she will make one of herself with a similar outfit and a small pride flag as well so she can set them up in couple settings

ever since she found out about online shopping it has opened up a whole new world for her so she will definitely get both of you matching outfits or jewelry from an lgbt owned shop

you love doing arts and crafts together so you suggest making bracelets for each other, either color coded or with letters

Donna's house has a flagpole she hasn't used in decades, but for you she'd gladly call for maintenance if it turns out it's unusable after all these years to hang a pride flag

anything to make you happy!

if there are any lgbtphobes bothering you or your friends, she will be right there to comfort you and won't hesitate to send Angie and her other dolls she can control to deal with them

even if you tell her that it's fine and she should just ignore them she's great at distracting you so you wouldn't notice until it's done oops-

since she has no portable device that can access music streaming platforms, but knows the password to your phone she decides to steal it for a bit and makes you the softest playlist that you since then often play for comfort

Salvatore Moreau

he has spent decades almost completely separated from humans so he has no idea what pride month means, but instantly agrees to it because he loves you so much

he will agree to anything that makes you happy

you both sit down and he looks at you with puppy eyes while you tell him all about pride

he loves the idea of celebrating a group of people you both are a part of

he thinks you deserve your own month to be cherished and celebrated!

he may be a little awkward with expressing his feelings, but he sure knows how to prepare a romantic dinner

with mother miranda needing all of the lords a lot to assist her, he usually barely has time to prep food, but for pride month he does his best to cook for you every single day

part of his usual outfit is a cape to cover his back and a type of crown made out of bones and rope

he's not the best with his hands, but he makes a crown for you that resembles his anyway because you're his queen/king/majesty

you love it so much!

you want to give him something in return so you go to the village and visit the shop you know is lgbt owned and get him a custom necklace with a fish pendant that has your initials engraved

he literally bursts out in tears because he is so touched :c

when you started dating he initially was scared of what you would think about his giant fish form, but you turned out to be really impressed and love it and since you'd be tiny compared to him he suggests taking you on an adventure of sorts

meaning you sit on his back while he swims around the lake which is like a roller coaster ride but more wet

he leads you to a hut you never visited before and he shows you treasures he has collected when he was still mortal

he starts making a list of things you could do and stays up all night to complete it but ends up with so many activities and ideas to celebrate pride you'll have to extend pride month... by possibly years....

if he hears about anyone being mean to you he'll just encase them into the blobs of gooey mass he can make but you don't need to know about that, pride month or not

he has always wanted to propose to you so he might be able to work up the courage to hint at it by the end of June

Karl Heisenberg

of course he knows about pride month!

he knows more than you might think

he isn't considered the rebel child for no reason

in the past he has done some celebration for himself, but it was never anything too special

he thinks it's no fun alone and his experiments servants aren't much fun

sure he could program them, but unless it's to attack something they're not really... party animals

since he has you now he'll gladly give it another go!

he'd love to go to pride events with you, especially if you go to drag shows

he didn't know about them before you made him go to one

something about them fascinates him so much, he's more excited than you

he's not really into cooking, but nothing will stop him from making you a nice breakfast in bed

you always love watching him work on his machines because he likes to take off his shirt when he's hot seeing him do what he loves makes you happy

so he decides to gift you some robots to assist you with your everyday endeavors

it's not really necessary but of course you appreciate the gesture

it means more time to spend with him after all

he once sees you with a keychain that has a pride flag on it so he paints it on one of his machines that he uses more often

mostly he will end the day by having a drink and dancing with you

it's a celebration, so celebrate he will

if you're more in the mood for chilling on the couch he won't say no to watching some queer shows or movies

after working on his machines he has a way of just melting into your arms

if he sees you smile at certain scenes in movies he might attempt to do the same with you

of course you notice, but you definitely can't complain especially if you smile on purpose at the spicier scenes

anyone who will come between you and happily celebrating pride will be visited by Sturm banned from his factory and getting anywhere near you

he likes to name his subjects so he will start naming them after all of your favorite queer historical figures, activists and famous people in general

any smile he can get out of you is a win

a win for the gays you might say

when he was younger he may have had a phase of spraying graffiti around the village so you're not surprised when he goes around his factory and writes "be gay do crime" on several of his machines and doors

[hopelesshunny]

the love languages part i: gifts (f.w.)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred doesn't like to admit that he gets jealous when it comes to his girlfriend, after a overhearing a conversation where the love of his life is the topic he goes shopping.

warnings: jealously, slight possessiveness, greasy comments from greasy guys, kissing, fred playfully slaps y/n's butt once.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is the first instalment of my love language series, i'm hoping to update it over the next four mondays!! i'm starting a taglist for this series and for my future writings in general which you'll find here, i'm so excited to keep writing for this series and i'd love to hear what y'all think of it - my ask is always open and i can't wait to hear your opinions!!

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part ii // part iii // part iv

Fred laid back on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he watched his girlfriend adjust her uniform in the mirror. Fred had known Y/N for years but she had become a Weasley family staple after she rescued a very stressed Ron in the library who was pouring over a potions essay that Hermoine had refused to help with. It wasn’t until they had convinced Y/N to spend the summer at the Burrow with them this past year that Fred had finally worked up the nerve to express his feelings for her, and now here she was flashing him that sunshine smile in his dorm room, his mirror, making her way over to kiss his lips.

“You’re staring Freddie.” She giggled, as she plopped down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Can’t help it angel.” He replied, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “You’re just too good to be all mine.”

“Well-” she started “I can assure you that I am, my love.” He chuckled as he placed another kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on hers for a little longer than she probably should have. In all honesty, Y/N had been crushing on Fred for years, long before he had even known who she was. She had simply intended on observing him from afar, sneaking in quiet chuckles at the jokes he and George cracked in class, stealing quick glances at him across the Great Hall as he teased his siblings. But when she developed quite the unlikely friendship with his younger brother and they had invited her to their family home, Fred started to see her in a different light. Y/N had been at the Burrow for over a month when Fred finally realized that maybe the reason he always wanted to be close to her and that he laughed the hardest at her jokes wasn’t just because he wanted to be her friend, he wanted to be her boyfriend, he was in love with her.

She was everything he had ever wanted, the perfect girl for him, but her being perfect made her quite the center of attention. Fred would never admit that he was jealous but the stares she attracted as the pair walked down the hallways always got to him. However, she never noticed the way other people looked at her, probably because she was too busy staring at him, too focused on the feeling of his hand in hers.

“Freddie.” She whined, wriggling in his grasp. “I’ve got to get to the library and you’ve got practice.” She giggled as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

“The library isn’t going anywhere and they won’t mind if I’m late.” He mumbled which earned a playful scoff from her.

“I have a feeling that your lateness will not be excused.” She replied as he groaned into her skin.

“Fine.” He spoke before placing a playful smack to her butt, signalling for her to move off of him so he could reluctantly get ready for quidditch practice.

“Don’t worry Freddie, I'll find you once you're done.” She cooed, placing a kiss to his lips before making her way out of his room and down the hall, leaving him breathless, once again.

Fred quickly got dressed and started the trek towards the pitch, his head flooded with the thoughts of Y/N, a smile seemed permanently etched on his face. Until he overheard voices from around the corner; there stood two Ravenclaw boys leaning against the wall, and the topic of discussion happened to be his girlfriend. Fred gritted his teeth at the sound of her name coming from such mouths, his jaw becoming tight as he felt his hands ball themselves into fists.

“No, I’m telling you, she knows how to fill a uniform.” One of them groaned as the other laughed in agreement. The thought of someone staring at her, making such comments about his girlfriend made him angry, but the fact that they were looking at her like that, like she was nothing more than a body, infuriated him. She was so much more than that, sure she was gorgeous but she also helped his younger siblings with their homework when they couldn’t figure something out, she baked bread with his mother on Sunday mornings and always reassured him when he felt like the entire world was against him.

“You’re right.” The other remarked. “Don’t know what she sees in Weasley. Merlin, she could do so much better.” He added, running a hand through his hair. Fred couldn’t listen any longer, couldn’t handle the garbage he was hearing.

“And I assume you think you’re better eh?” Fred spoke as he sulked his way out of the shadows, causing the two boys to jump at the sound of his voice. “Quiet now, are we?” He chuckled.

“It’s only the truth Weasley, she’ll leave you at the sight of someone better.” The braver of the two spoke. “You’ll be tossed out soon enough.” Fred could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, but he knew that Y/N would despise the thought of him fighting, especially over her.

“We’ll see about that.” He breathed, feigning a lack of bother, the two boys stared at him, shocked at his response as he simply walked past them.

The week had melted itself into the weekend and the thought of his conversation in the hallway still plagued him, he knew Y/N wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t simply drop him if someone better came along. He knew that she loved him, knew that she barely even noticed those who were interested in her no matter how persistent their efforts in pursuing her were. But he needed something, something to prove that she was his, something that could show that she was proud to be his. After seething over this for the past week, thinking about constantly pulling his jumper over her head or maybe just never letting go of her hand in an attempt to keep greasy eyes off of her, it finally hit him and after a sneaky visit to a jewelry store he had a solution.

“Hey princess.” He spoke, excitement evident in his tone as he took his spot next to Y/N in front of the tree she was leaning against.

“Hi, my love.” She replied, abandoning the book she was reading to lay her head in his lap. He sighed with content, running his fingers through her hair as she gazed up at him, nothing but pure love gracing her features.

“I got you something.” Fred said softly as he ran a thumb across her cheek, she looked up at him, taking the hand that wasn’t occupied on her face into her own, interlacing their fingers.

“Freddie-” She started, but he stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips.

“No, no, no.” He protested. “I know you always say you don’t need gifts but this one means a lot to me.” She stared at him curiously as he continued to speak.

“I overheard these guys talking about you and I tried to not let it get to me but I- I couldn’t.” He spoke, her face softening. “I know you love me and I love you more than anything, I just wanted to get you something that could show everyone that, that could show you that.” He ran his fingers through his crimson hair and let out a shaky breath as she brought his hand to her mouth, gently kissing each knuckle. He was so nervous, he had planned exactly how to go about this in his head, but here in this situation, with her staring up at him with those eyes, all previous thoughts of smooth words and flirting were abandoned. He wanted nothing more than to spill his guts to her, tell her every single reason why he loved her, kiss every inch of her body.

“I always say I don’t get jealous when it comes to you, but I do, I hate it when other people look at you the same way I do.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “You’re the love of my life Y/N, there is absolutely no one out there better for me than you, I’m all in.”

“I couldn't agree more Freddie, all my bets are on you.” Y/N said, rising from her spot in his lap to straddle him. She placed her palms against either side of his face, resting her forehead against his closing her eyes and feeling the heat of his cheeks against her hands. Fred reached into his jacket pocket to reveal a small velvet box, Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the sight. He chuckled, sensing her surprise.

“It’s not an engagement ring angel.” He started, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “At least not yet.” He opened the box, where a simple silver necklace sat, four letters sat in the middle, his name in plain script. Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as Fred pulled the necklace out of the box and loosened the clasp.

“May I?” He asked, a grin etching itself on his face.

“Of course.” She whispered as he placed the chain around her neck.

“There.” He spoke, leaning back to admire her, she looked so pretty with his name lying against her skin. “What do you think?” He asked, his voice quiet as he searched her face for some sort of indication into how she felt about the gift. She stayed quiet for a moment, simply staring down at the necklace, she ran a finger across the letters as Fred bit his lip, nervous at her sudden silence.

“I love it Freddie.” She whispered, pulling his face to hers capturing his lips with her own before kissing his forehead, both his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips again and again. He broke into a full fledged laugh until he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

“Oh no princess, don’t cry.” He chuckled, wiping away stray tears.

“They’re happy tears Freddie.” She giggled. “Just love you so much.”

“I bet I love you more though.” He retorted, resting his hands on her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’ll have to buy you more gifts if you keep kissing me like that.”

Y/N sighed in response, her fingers twirled in the hair at the nape of his neck. They both knew that Fred could never buy her another gift for as long as they both lived and she would still love him as much as she did in this very moment. There was so much uncertainty in the future but right now, with his name around her neck and his arms wrapped so tightly around her waist she knew that no matter what happened in the next month, the next year and for the rest of her life, her love would be completely and utterly Fred Weasleys.

taglist (join here!!)

@onlyfreds

[gemma-collins-ily]

It’s my birthday today and I was wondering if you could do Jesper celebrating the reader’s birthday?

Jesper Celebrating the Reader's Birthday

a/n - keep in mind, fics don't normally come out this quickly, but I saw this and wanted to release it on your special day! This may be a little uncoordinated but I hope you enjoy and have a brilliant day! Also, just to let everyone know, requests are closed for a few days, just so I can catch up on requests xoxo 💞

Warnings: nothing?

Tagged: @mrs-brekker15 @i-am-the-1930s @inthegistoftime

it is guaranteed

you hear me?

guaranteed

that he will try to plan you a party

it's Jesper, he has to

so he'll set up streamers and a huge poster displaying your age

for all who enter the Slat to see

he'll get Nina to distract you, taking you out for waffles probably

his words would probably be exactly like this:

"I don't know Neens, just take them away from the Slat and don't come back till, like ummm seven."

she'd look at the half hung decorations and many more still in boxes disapprovingly and ask:

"You didn't plan this out did you?"

"Are you accusing me, the Jesper Fahey, himself, of being disorganised?"

She grabbed her coat and you, covering your eyes as she went, very clearly conveying something was happening, then left without a word more.

so, by now, you knew something was happening

or at least suspected it

but would go along with it for Jesper

trailing after Nina until your feet were sore

finally having enough and asking if you could stop and sit on a bench

she agreed with a groan

so, she was obviously tired too

"How long do we need to stay out?"

"I really do not know what you're talking about, (Y/N)."

"Come on, I know there's a surprise back at the Slat, I just need to know how long I have to wait to go home."

she'd continue to blatantly refuse the very idea of a surprise until she randomly gave in

and you'd smirk, happy to get the answer

as soon as it neared seven, she'd try to drag you back to the Slat but you'd tell her they wouldn't be ready yet

Nina would not listen and take you firmly by the wrist, marching back to the Slat

when you got there you were right

of course

bestie, can you predict the future?

no, actually

you just know how frazzled your boyfriend can get

but you were surprised to see even Kaz was helping

it did not look like he wanted to be there voluntarily

but still

you take what you can get

it was an effort so you appreciated it

when Nina would let out a dramatic gasp at the sight of Kaz Brekker hanging up decor, Jes would notice you

yelling at Nina to take you out again or to your room

just go over and peck him on the lips, tell him you don't really care about the streamers and he'll relax

even if he wanted it to be perfect

you have all the calming techniques down bestie

Kaz will sigh exaggeratingly and drop the colourful swirly thing he was eyeing with disgust

it would be between his forefinger and thumb as he did so

and this meant it was twice as funny to you

oops you may have laughed

you received a glare in return

aww such a nice present

everyone say thank you Kaz

anyway

there's probably a table with gifts on it

kaz got you a new book

but left it anonymously

no message on the tag even if you know it's him

you thank him and he pretends he has no clue who gave it to you

"Awwww, thanks Kaz."

"I didn't get you a gift, (Y/N). It's obviously from someone else."

Inej would get you some sort of herbal tea I think

if you don't like tea then it's probably also a book

wow what a match for those two

thinking the same thoughts

Nina may have forgotten to get a present and would promise waffles instead

or she'd have tried to sneakily get a board game while you were out earlier

you acted like you did not notice

it's a grammy award for you

Matthias could have either gotten you some kruge because he wasn't sure what you wanted

or a new scarf, coat ect.

he has a pretty good taste in fashion

now, Jesper would either wait till later to give you his gifts

because aww, sentimentality

or he'd give you them with everyone else's to make you blush publicly

at that point, you wouldn't care

either way, he'd keep at least one spare to give to you in private

I think his gifts would be a little something like this:

a type of jewelry, whether it be a necklace or an anklet, it would have a J on it

he probably bought a matching one for him with your initial on it too

a necklace feels a little more personal but could be taken advantage of by enemies

like in finding out you were together

not like it was oBVIOUS or anything

but an anklet would ultimately be sturdier and less likely to be taken as a means of affection from a loved one

so anklet it is

chocolates that are actually quite rich in flavour and are rare in Ketterdam

he saved up some money for those

if you like to play with his rings

he'll have bought you one

again, it may be a little blander to avoid it being interpreted as a gift of love by enemies

you didn't mind it being a little more hidden

Jesper was happy with you and you with Jesper

so you felt no need to show off to the world

you would probably take it off if you had to do any good old fashioned fist fighting

pocketing it quickly

he'd also give you a nail makeover the next day

but you would have to paint on his nails in return because if he tried, he would probably mess up while using his non-dominant hand to paint the other

you could match because #couplegoals

he'd bring you breakfast in bed the day after your birthday

being so busy planning the day before, he didn't get you any

I hate to disappoint but it would not be made by him

he would burn everything

so Matthias' second present to you is the breakfast

delivered by Jesper

he'd probably be sat at the counter making snarky remarks about Matthias' cooking

until he got whacked with a tea towel

if you're an early bird

Jes would be given the task of distracting you and stopping you from walking downstairs

or getting out of bed at all

this could be easily done with the persuasion of cuddles

then Matthias would yell for him and he'd have to leave to get the tray

when he brings it up he'll sit you between his legs, leaning your back against his chest and resting the tray on your knees

may feed you bites that sOMEHOW end up like a lady and the tramp scene

even if it's a slice of french toast, he'll manage

would tactfully steal little bits off your plate

and you couldn't really be mad at him because he would just smile charmingly

(maybe with half a piece of bacon sticking out of the side of his mouth)

but charming none the less

he might have a gift hidden in the corner of a chest of drawers somewhere you find one day and he remembers he was supposed to wrap that up and give it to you

if it's almost a year later and near your next birthday

just leave it on his dresser

no words need to be exchanged

the only difference is now one of your presents is less of a surprise

oh cards

kaz would write in his a simple,

'Inej made me write this. Have a good day. You are one year closer to being dead. Congratulations.

-Signed sincerely, Kaz Brekker'

Nina and Matthias share a card

meaning she wrote it and he signed his name with an extra

'I hope you have a lovely day, (Y/N).'

Nina's message/ the main one in the card would be:

'I can't believe we're all growing so old now! Anyway, we love you, hope you enjoy the presents and your birthday. You deserve it! Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Nina'

Inej's would have a very sincere message:

'(Y/N),

You are truly a wonderful friend and person, helping everyone with anything they may need. I feel so lucky to have you as my friend and I hope you will continue to be for years to come. You deserve a fantastic day and I hope you get one, I know Jes will try to make it perfect!

-From, Inej x

p.s - I tried to get Kaz to sign a card, but he was smirking and wouldn't let me see it before he put it in the envelope, so I'm terribly sorry if it's rude.'

now to Jesper's

'Love,

I adore you with all my heart and wish you a truly happy birthday. I hope you like the gifts I bought, I wanted to symbolise my love for you through each. I know one or two presents are a little bland but I hope they mean as much to you as they do to me. You are the most amazing partner I could ever dream of having, and every time you do something, I never expect it.

You are unpredictable, my love, and I can honestly say I do not mind it. In fact, it is one of the many factors that made me fall in love with you. Have a happy birthday!

-Love from Jesper, xxx

p.s - Kaz looked terrifyingly happy when he finished signing your card so be careful, he probably pulled something.

you might have cried

yes

you, a Crow, feared on the streets sniffled over even Kaz's message

knowing if he didn't actually want to, there was no way he would have signed that card

all in all, you have a great birthday and Jesper (and everyone else) makes you feel really special

[rocorambles]

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Cop and Criminal AU (Cop Iwaizumi, Criminal Reader), NSFW, Sex Toys, Degradation, Overstimulation, Bondage

Summary: Bad girls get punished. And criminals who go out of their way to make Iwaizumi’s life hell on a routine basis deserve extra special punishment.

Author’s Note: This is for the NSFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event! @multifandhoem I hope you enjoy~ (I really got carried away with the plot in this fic. One day I will learn how to write porn without plot, but for now, please accept my porn with way too much plot.)

Irritating Iwaizumi Hajime might be your favorite activity in the world. There’s just something so satisfying about watching his usually calm and stoic face shatter into an angry feral mess. And maybe, just maybe, something deep in your belly stirs as he growls and snarls at you, something primal in you writhing in excitement as he bares his teeth at you and chases you. 

You’ve lived a life of sins and crimes for as long as you can remember, but hard work has taken you a long way. So really, there isn’t any need for you to continue your petty thieving ways. You’re set for life with the money you’ve accrued from the countless successful exchanges you’ve made. It’s almost obscene just how much people are willing to pay for a few shiny stones or swatches of paint on a canvas. 

And yet you can’t help yourself from revisiting your bad habits of creeping in the shadows, analyzing floor plans, strategizing routes. Only now, your plans are centered around a brooding spiky haired cop with the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen instead of the number of zeros at the end of a number. 

You don’t know exactly what about Iwaizumi resonates so strongly with you. Sure, he’s handsome, but you’ve run into your fair share of handsome officers. You dare say Officer Sawamura could give Iwaizumi a run for his money in the looks department.

Maybe it’s the hints of wildness you see underneath his straight-laced façade. 

Maybe it’s the fire you see blazing behind his reserved countenance.

Whatever it is has you keeping tabs on him, has you concocting plans just sloppy enough for Iwaizumi to get tantalizingly close to you, but put together enough to have you escaping his grasp each and every time. And you cackle at the way his eyes light up when he thinks he has you pinned down, only to furiously scowl at your retreating figure when you taunt him with a flirtatious air kiss and a cheeky “maybe next time, sir”. 

It’s an endless game of cat and mouse, but you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. And you’re beginning to suspect that even Iwaizumi finds it amusing to a certain degree. 

You had been at a loss for words when the officer had merely trudged into the jewelry store you had been waiting for him in at your last heist, only to casually lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you holding the store’s most expensive strings of diamonds and pearls in your hands, teasingly holding them up to his face. And you hesitantly lower your arm, unsure what to do as the silence and stillness of the night stretches. 

There’s no growled threats or pointed firearm in your face like there usually would be right about now. And you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on the handsome face across from you as the two of you just stand there, stuck in the strange heady tension filling the air. 

But you almost drop everything you’re holding at Iwaizumi’s next words. 

“If you want my attention that badly, there are better ways of going about it.” 

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to laugh as your trademark smirk falls off the lower unmasked part of your face and he confidently saunters over to you, strong arms boxing you in against the glass counter, enjoying the rush of power he feels about the tables finally turning as you shyly look anywhere but at him. And something roars triumphantly inside of him when you gasp as he hooks his hand under your chin and forces you to meet him gaze on. 

“I’ve spent the last few months wracking my brain for answers. Why were you suddenly committing so many meaningless robberies? Robberies of stores and items so far beneath your caliber? Was it just coincidence that you were only committing crimes on the routes and nights I was working? Was I just imagining that it seemed like you were actively trying to avoid injuring me every time we clashed? None of it made any sense. But then your stupid flirting started and it made me think that maybe there was some rhyme and reason to your suddenly erratic behavior after all.” 

There’s silence as he lets you register his words and the rattling of jewelry as he plucks the expensive strands out of your hands and carelessly tosses them back in their case. But he softly smiles when you don’t deny his words and make no move to push him away or escape. 

“I believe in new beginnings and fresh starts, so when you’re done with your thieving ways, come find me. I’m curious about the woman under the mask.” 

It’s weeks before you have the courage to even secretly trail after Iwaizumi again after that encounter and even then, you don’t do anything but keep watch over him. 

His words echo in your mind and you don’t have the urge to steal and ring an alarm to beckon him towards you. Not when the greatest treasure of all is just within your grasp whenever you’re ready to summon the will to finally reveal your identity and meet him person to person in broad daylight instead of slithering around each other in the twisted tango of cop and criminal. 

But you aren’t ready yet and you merely keep tabs on him for now, curiosity and protectiveness getting the better of you, and if Iwaizumi notices the moving shadow that seems to follow him wherever he goes, he doesn’t bring attention to it. There’s something comforting, maybe even endearing, about how you’ve become a guardian angel of sorts to him, especially with the increasing body count and grizzly crimes being committed. And although he wishes you were safe and sound, tucked far away from the ricocheting bullets and corpses, his heart warms at the bouquet of lilies he finds on his doorsteps when he stumbles back home, empty and defeated, the weight of his partner’s death from a particularly bloody shootout still fresh on his mind. 

There’s no note, no letter, but he knows. Knows that it could only be you, knows that no one outside of his team or the criminals they had been fighting with could possibly know about the death so soon unless they happened to witness the scene. And that night he sobs himself to sleep, clutching your flowers to his chest, unaware of the way you forlornly stare at him from the roof across the street, heart aching and wishing more than anything that you weren’t such a coward, that you were brave enough to slip inside and comfort him in person. 

But life has a funny way of working, of not caring if you’re ready or not and your lives crash together once more in an unexpected way. 

Iwaizumi is promoted to lead the new task force aimed at squashing down the rising crime syndicates. You’re proud of him, but you can’t quell the anxiety that courses through you as you watch every raid that takes place, wondering if and when the day will come where he’ll be outmaneuvered, keeping your own skills sharp, praying that you’ll never have to use them again, but just in case…

And you thank whoever’s listening that you had kept up with your training as Iwaizumi’s team is ambushed and overpowered one night. Your heart drops and bile rises in your throat as officer after officer crumples to the floor, but you force yourself to calm down, to find an internal steady rhythm as you glide through the shadows, swiftly and secretly making your way towards the man you’ve become so attached to. 

You fight down the panic when you finally reach him, try to still the tremble in your hands as you quickly scan the growing dark red stain spreading across his shirt from his wounds, almost collapsing in relief when you find that they’re all superficial wounds, nothing life threatening or critical. 

The silent scuffle between the two of you is awful and you’re thankful that blood loss and pain have weakened him as you forcefully drag him away, nails gripping tightly into his skin as you roughly lead him to your apartment despite his struggling, despite his desperate desire to go back and help his few remaining teammates. And you’re both fiercely snarling at each other when you’re finally safe inside your apartment, fury raging in both of you as you snap at each other. 

“You should have let me stay and help!”

“So that you could end up dead like the rest of them? You were clearly outpowered and outnumbered!”

“Well you should have just let me die then, instead of helping me escape like a coward.” 

A resounding crack echoes throughout the room and it takes you some time to register the smarting pain in the palm of your hand and the fresh red mark on Iwaizumi’s cheek. But before you can even stutter an apology, a hand is fisting the front of your shirt and lips are crashing against yours in an angry impassioned act and you whimper as you are forced to taste his frustration and gratitude, his losses and gain, his despair and hope. 

And when he disconnects and the two of you gasp for much needed oxygen, you stand in the middle of your apartment, arms wrapped around each other, only the sounds of Iwaizumi’s sobs and your comforting words flitting through the air as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you rub soothing patterns on his back. 

The rest of the night is a domestic peaceful drawl and you gently lead Iwaizumi to an armchair in your living room before scurrying away to rummage for your first aid kit and returning to kneel between his legs as you clean his injuries, apologizing as he winces at the sting of warm water and soap against his open wounds. There’s a soothing flow as you tend to him and you relax with every swipe of the towel, fingers and hands lingering just a tad longer than they should on his skin. But you stiffen when his uninjured arm raises and calloused fingers lightly trace the bottom of your mask. 

There’s an unspoken question in the way he delicately plays around with the corners of the fabric, but it seems deafening to you as your heart races. Maybe it’s the pure intentions in his eyes or the fact that your walls are weakened in the confines of your apartment, but either way, you don’t pull away, tilting your head up and stilling in silent confirmation. And something flutters in your chest as he gingerly removes your mask, heat rising to your face as green eyes stare at your face in awe for the first time, fingertips tracing every inch and line, mapping every groove reverently. 

It feels like eternity before you resume dipping the towel into the soapy water and treating him. But bandaged and deemed well, Iwaizumi is ushered to your shower and you shove a pile of clean towels and the largest loungewear you have into his hands, fully intent on locking him in the bathroom as you get a grip on yourself. But he has different plans in mind and you’re speechless as he firmly grasps your wrist before you can retreat with your tail between your legs. 

“Stay with me. Please.”

How could you possibly deny those honest eyes? 

Swipes of a soapbar against skin become intimate caresses and before you fully register what’s happening, you’re being pressed against the wall as Iwaizumi plunders your mouth, rough hands roaming all over your body as he fully explores everything you have to offer. You whimper as the hot water is suddenly turned off, the cold air crashing against you, but you let out a content sigh as a hot body wraps you in its embrace, carrying you to the sanctuary of your plush bedding. And all you know before you blissfully pass out is the sound of your wanton moans as you break apart over and over again, on Iwaizumi’s tongue, fingers, and cock, tears and drool cascading down your face as you alternate between begging for more and crying for him to let you rest before you ultimately pass out from the deliriously overwhelming ecstasy.

The sun is barely creeping in, a few slim tendrils slipping past the cracks of your window blinds when his eyes flutter open and something warm spreads in his chest as he slowly turns to observe your still soundly sleeping figure, a small upward quirk of his lips betraying how right it feels to wake up beside your vulnerable state. And although he can’t deny the allure of your body creeping through the night, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful like this, unmasked and body unconsciously seeking his presence and warmth as you curl into his space, your face nuzzling into his chest, head perfectly settled under his chin, the soft glow of sunlight enhancing your natural beauty. 

But he grimaces as his alarm continues to blaringly ring in the background, frowning as he reluctantly separates himself from you and carefully untangles himself from your bed sheets, quietly traipsing out of your room and dialing a number on his phone when he’s out of your earshot.   

Guilt and dread claw at him as the ringtone goes on and on and his throat is dry when he hears the authoritative voice through the speakers. 

“Iwaizumi? Are you okay?!”

Iwaizumi wishes he had a glass of water as he chokes out a polite greeting and he can feel hot tears prick at his eyes as he ceaselessly apologizes. Apologizing for abandoning his men. Apologizing for a failed mission. Apologizing for being such a failure as an officer, as a leader. 

But he quickly shuts up at the sharp tone that pierces his ear as Sawamura barks his name and he waits and waits, holding his breath, preparing to give up his badge, only to splutter in surprise at the warm relieved chuckle echoing across the speaker. 

“I’m glad you’re at least well enough to give me a headache with your wallowing. Good men died and we’re going to feel their loss for a long time. I won’t deny that. But no one blames you, Iwaizumi. You’re a good man, a great officer, and an even better leader. Rest up, grieve, mourn. Do whatever you need to do for the next few days. And when you’re ready, I expect to see you in my office so we can strategize about how we’re going to honor our fallen teammates by giving these criminals hell.”

He barely has time to stammer a “yes, sir” before the line clicks shut and the tears finally roll down his face as he clutches his phone in his hands, bittersweet gratefulness and sorrow blending together. And as his cries come to an end, a determined glint flickers in his eyes as he wipes the last of the salty trails away, the resolve of a man seeking vengeance forming inside of him. 

But that could wait until he was back in the swirl and chaos of the precinct. For now, he has other loose ends to tie and he quietly walks back to your room, smiling at the sight of your still slumbering figure nestled in your blankets as he makes his way towards you, intent on slipping back underneath the covers besides you. But he lets out a muffled pained curse as his foot knocks over a box besides your bed, the crash of objects dispersing across the wood floor rattling you awake, and you blearily blink your eyes open only to stare in shock and horror as Iwaizumi curiously holds up a set of black bondage restraints and a jeweled butt plug from among the scattered items, before sending an amused look and a quirked brow your way.    

If you were drowsy before, you’re wide awake now as you lunge out of bed, throwing yourself at Iwaizumi as you frantically try to regain possession of some of your most intimate belongings, pouting when he holds the items out of reach, a mischievous grin on his face as he looks down at you. 

“Are you familiar with the stoplight system?”

You pause your futile jumping as you try and bat your toys out of his hands, balking at the underlying meaning in his question, waiting for him to just laugh it off and move on. But when all he does is bring a warm hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as he patiently gazes at you, letting you make the final decision, you melt and lean into his touch, shyly nodding your head as you blissfully sigh at the way it feels so right for him to be touching you. 

“Words, princess. I’m not going to be gentle. Not after all the teasing and headaches you’ve caused me. So I need to be sure you’re ok with this, that it’s what you want.” 

Brief descriptions of red, yellow, and green are barely out of your mouth before you’re suddenly being forcefully shoved onto the bed, body instinctively flailing in self-defense as you try to register what’s happening while binds are roughly being wrapped around your wrists and ankles. But you mewl in arousal as Iwaizumi’s weight settles on top of you, his hard chest pressing you against the bed as he dexterously ties you up until you’re in a spread-eagled position underneath him, unable to move even an inch. And your breath hitches at the hungry look he pins you down with as he sits back and enjoys the view of your trussed up body on complete display for him. 

But you grow impatient as the minutes drag by and Iwaizumi gives you an unimpressed look as you begin to fight against your restraints, whining for him to get on with it already. And he shuts you up with a punishing pinch to your inner thigh that has you yelping before getting up from the bed and perusing your box of toys. 

You crane your neck in every way as you try to get a sneak peek of what he has in store for you, but Iwaizumi puts that idea to a screeching halt as he slips a blindfold around your head and all you know is darkness and anticipation. Despite the way you try to intently listen for any warning, you squeal in surprise when a hot wet mouth latches onto one of your nipples, fingers tweaking the other and your entire world narrows down to your two perky buds, the lewd wet sounds of sucking filling your ears. Mouth and hands alternate and you can’t keep up with the fluctuating patterns, your breath coming out in pants, your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal, and you sigh in relief when the assault stops, glad to have a moment of reprieve, only to wail when the intense pressure of nipple clamps sears through you, the cold weight of the chain connecting the two clamps piercing your senses as it settles onto your skin. 

Pain and pleasure echo through your mind so loudly that you don’t sense Iwaizumi moving until fingers suddenly slip inside your dripping pussy and your back arches, the nipple clamp chain jingling with the movement and a rush of humiliation courses through you when Iwaizumi chuckles, commenting on how wet you are already. 

“I was going to prep you a bit more, but looks like this cock hungry hole is more than ready.” 

You’re practically salivating as something hard nudges against your entrance, already delirious just from the prospect of being filled with Iwaizumi’s cock once again, but enthusiasm turns to confusion which turns to pleasured shock as your rabbit vibrator is shoved inside of you and immediately set to its highest setting, your clit and walls stimulated so sharply, so suddenly. 

It’s so good, but it’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s not what you want. 

“Haji-Hajime, please. Want to cum on your cock. Don’t want a toy! Too much. At least turn it down. Haji-AHHHH!” 

You scream as you’re forced to an orgasm, body convulsing, jaw going slack, and you wait for the toy to be removed, wait for the settings to be lowered, only for dread and disbelief to fill you as a sticky thick substance is being inserted into your puckered hole, a lubed finger slowly entering you, taking its time to explore and spread your tight hole as the vibrator continues to ravage your pussy and clit at full intensity. And drool begins to seep from the corners of your mouth as you tumble headfirst into overstimulation as a plug replaces the fingers inside of your ass, nestling inside of you as you come to terms with the overwhelming feeling of being double stuffed. 

“Ha-Hajime please please please. Too much. I can’t-”

The plug inside of you is teasingly pulled just enough for you to feel the stretch of your hole, only to be shoved inside you once again and words are too hard to think of as the vibrator is thrust in and out of you, the slick sounds of your gushing cunt embarrassingly loud even above your whimpers. 

“Maybe I should make you cum for every robbery you ever committed. Maybe then you’ll actually behave and be a law-abiding citizen. Would you like that? Being too fucked out to even think about breaking the law?”

“No! Please! I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I swear. Just please let me rest.” 

“Sorry, princess. Bad girls need to be punished.” 

A strangled sob escapes you as the vibrator is pushed even deeper inside of you, the smaller tip grinding even further into your clit and your cries are swallowed as Iwaizumi settles besides you, affectionately capturing your lips with his as he watches you break apart once again, smirking as your body and face try to draw closer to him, seeking comfort and relief as overwhelming pleasure drowns you. 

But he doesn’t stop. Not even when your begging and pleading turns into incoherent babbles and wanton noises. Not even when you’re too tired to even move, your body only twitching here and there from overstimulation, completely slack and mindless as pleasure melts your brain into mush. 

Only when the vibrator finally runs out of batteries hours later, the mechanical whirring coming to an end, does he finally relieve you of the object and you dazedly stare at him as he removes your tear-stained blindfold, slumping in relief that it’s finally over, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Iwaizumi’s arms and sleep for a long, long time. 

But he has other plans for the two of you and even in your exhausted state, your eyes fling wide open and you weakly whimper as he positions himself in between your legs, guiding his cock to your spent hole and easily slipping inside before caging you with his arms.

Your eyes roll back at the sudden intrusion and despite how wrecked you are, how used you feel, arousal once again begins to coil up inside of you as your walls accommodate the new object. 

All you can think about is the cock inside of you. All you can think about is the way it fills and stretches you. All you can think about is the way it drags against your sensitive walls as Iwaizumi begins to piston his hips in a brutal steady rhythm. 

The room is a cacophony of Iwaizumi’s grunts, your broken moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin and you can feel yourself losing to the pleasure as the now all too familiar knot in your stomach tightens once again, your body tensing and pulling taut against your restraints as something builds up inside of you. 

Iwaizumi isn’t doing much better, so pent up from watching you beautifully fall apart over and over again in front of him, so close to the real thing as he hovers above you, memorizing the blissed out look on your face, mentally recording every gorgeous sound that slips past your lips, and this time it’s all because of him. 

He increases his pace, groaning as your walls tighten around him as if they don’t ever want him to leave them empty, something feral inside of him howling as your mouth opens in a silent scream as you crash one last time, your body shaking and trembling, your cunt spasming around him as he spills long thick stripes inside of you. 

When there’s nothing left to give, every last drop of his essence deep within you, your body boneless and limp beneath him, he gently lays on top of you, burying his face in the space besides yours, murmuring praises and words of affirmation as he blankets your body with his. 

And when you finally come back to him, eyes looking a little more clear, voice regaining your sassy tone as you demand that he undo your restraints, he’s more than happy to oblige, carefully releasing you, rubbing every sore limb, letting you use him as your personal body pillow as you throw your arms and legs around him and bury your face into his chest, almost instantly falling into a deep exhausted slumber in the safety of his presence. 

There will be proper, much needed conversations and discussions when the two of you are both awake, sitting across each other with steaming mugs of coffee placed in front of you, hesitantly yet hopefully probing for answers. What are the two of you? What does the future hold for both of you? 

But for now, Iwaizumi lets his eyes shut, lets himself be lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as he holds you close to him, protectively curling around you as sleep embraces him.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Regina George

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You technically don’t meet Regina, but she first talks to you one day after school while you’re walking to the bus stop.

- You see, you’re a part of the school yearbook; a photographer to be specific, and took photography class so you were fiddling with your camera while you were walking. You being a part of the yearbook was also initially the reason that she talked to you since Regina doesn’t give the time of day to people like you unless she wants something.

- So there you were, walking across the school yard when Regina fucking George called out to you.

- Now everybody knows who Regina is; which is why I said you didn’t technically meet, and Regina knows that they do, but she’s learned how to play people so she introduces herself. You shyly greet her back, wondering what she’s doing talking to you before she says “oh wow” and begins to ask about your camera.

- You don’t know enough about Regina at this point to realize that she’s playing you like a fiddle so you timidly talk to her for a while before your photography class comes up into conversation. She asks what you do in it and you mention the project you’ve just been assigned: having to pick one or a few subjects and photograph them for about half the year.

- She asks if you’ve chosen someone yet, you mention that you’ll probably choose one of your friends and she says an “oh” which has you hanging on to her next words.

“Well,” she says somewhat pointedly, “I was just thinking, I mean, you’ll have the rest of your life to photograph your friends, and I’m sure you do it all the time. So maybe you should pick a new subject?”

“If you wanted,” she says after you seem to be considering her words. “We’d be more than happy to help you out. You can come hang out with us and build up your portfolio.”

- You ask if she’s sure and she sweetly reassures you, writing down her number and telling you to think about it.

- Well bless your gay little heart, of course you say yes! You’re practically mesmerized by her! It’s just too bad that she only sees you as her own personal photographer ...at least at first.

- So you begin to hang out with the plastics, shocking everyone in your school whenever they actually give you the time of day. Though, of course, they have to give you a makeover and teach you the rules first.

- Everywhere you go, you bring your camera and snap some photos of them, oftentimes at their request. When you’re at school events working on the yearbook, Regina will call your name and you’ll obediently take some pictures of her/them wherever they are. Blinded by your growing crush on the mean girl, you don’t realize what’s happening, especially since she really seems to think of you as a friend.

- I mean, why would she tell guys with newfound interest in you to leave you alone or force you to hang out with her instead of your loser friends/boyfriend or call you up and tell you to sneak out and hang out with her.

- Truth be told, Regina George had taken an actually liking to you and perhaps it had started purely because of the attention you were getting from guys. Regina liked having what other couldnt and now that you were desired; and for other reasons, she wanted you.

- Things come to a head when Gretchen accidentally let slip exactly why Regina had made you their friend after the blonde upset her. The confession had come as a shock but at the same time, you felt dirty, like you’d known all along that it was too good to be true and this was just proving to you that it was.

- You were hurt, you were upset, you were ...angry. How dare she use you like that? Pretend to be your friend for some goddamn photos!

- You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of blowing up on her, of letting her drop you from the group herself after you “overstepped your boundaries”, so, you ignored her. You didn’t answer her calls, avoided her at school, blatantly ignored her when she called after you. You gave her the silent treatment and it gave you a sick sense of victory.

- Regina hates being ignored and not having control of everything so you; someone she’s grown to have feelings for, just up and ignoring her like she was some common geek really pissed her off. God, you should have seen her after Gretchen admitted she’d told you; the blonde could have killed her.

- So now that the blonde knew what was wrong, she started working towards fixing the mess the “brunette bitch” had made. You obviously weren’t returning her calls nor letting her come near you at school, so she had to surprise you somewhere, somewhere you couldn’t get rid of her. The schools darkroom.

- No one was around there after school, well, no one besides you so when the blonde entered and shut the door behind her, tapping on your shoulder as music blared in your headphones, you nearly had a heart attack.

- Out of sheer shock and anger, you began to yell at her, hurling a few “what the hell is wrong with yous” and insults and explaining that you don’t want to see her. She remains blank faced before she tells you to shut up, successfully shocking you into silence.

- She told you that yes, initially she’d only talked to you for the photos but even then, she saw potential in you, she saw something she liked in you. She thought her interest in you was just some sort of jealousy thing but then she figured out that it was something more. When guys asked you out; well when they tried to, she felt the same way she felt when Aaron Samuels ignored her for some other girl.

- And then she asked if you would go out with her, well, she sort of demanded that you’d go out with her and for better or for worse, you said you would.

- For your first date, the two of you go to the mall together. You spend a few hours shopping around, getting coffees and talking like normal humans. It’s no surprise that you have a good time but you are surprised by how natural it feels to be with her.

- The two of you share your first kiss a few days later, after you’d gone to some party that she’d insisted you attend with her. Some guy had hit on you, causing her to subsequently pretend that she was tired of the place and wanted to go home. Once you were back in her car, she’d pulled you into a rough, obviously jealous kiss, leaving you grinning while she began to drive away.

- And thus, the queen of the plastics became your queen.

- Regina isn’t a huge fan of Pda unless she knows that someone in the vicinity has a crush on you. If there’s someone’s day she can ruin by doing it, then she’s all over you.

- You’ll usually keep your arm around her shoulder or have her arm around you.

- Blowing kisses.

- Just watch the lip gloss when she’s going to be in public, alright?

- Aggressive kisses and makeouts.

- She actually likes cuddling; particularly spooning, especially when she’s feeling upset. She’ll either hold you or let you hold her for hours, usually while watching television.

- You have your very own pair of fuzzy slippers for whenever you stay over at her house.

- Sunbathing on her balcony.

- Phonecalls before bed.

- Affectionate name calling and insults.

- Playful hitting and wrestling.

- Borrowing each other’s stuff: clothes, makeup, perfume, etc. She’ll occasionally buy you things just so she can steal them from you later.

- Small gifts.

- A surprising amount of compliments. You don’t expect Regina George to boost your self esteem up as much as she does but what can she say, she just loves everything about you.

- She likes hearing you rant, she finds it really amusing when you act all bitchy.

- Writing in the burn book, or at least being somewhat pressured into trying it; not purposefully. She just thinks that it’s cathartic so why wouldn’t you?

- Making fun of people together. She’s more mean spirited than you are but hey, you’re both being bitches, right?

- Expect her to make a few commands. She’s just used to having followers and puppy dogs for partners, don’t take it personally.

- Getting her to be nicer to her friends.

- Learning the rules of popularity.

- Getting matching jewelry.

- I’m sorry but you’re now her dress up doll and there’s no stopping it. She’ll do your makeup, buy your clothes, style your hair, whatever her little heart desires; and you’ll just have to let her.

- She actually sort of secretly likes punk/alternative music but you’re one of the few people that’s allowed to know. You bought her an Avril Lavigne cd this one time and she not so jokingly said that she’d go down on you for being so sweet.

- You’re dragged around a lot. You sort of just do whatever she wants, especially if you’re just hanging out rather than going on an actual date.

- Surrender the keys slut. Regina insists on driving no matter whose car you’re taking.

- Going shopping. She needs your advice before she can buy things.

- Holding her stuff for her. I’m sorry but your girlfriend acts like a princess.

- Getting coffees.

- Lunch dates.

- Going to parties together.

- Junk food binges.

- Having tons of photographs together. She has a good bunch of the more platonic looking ones; at least until she comes out, displayed around her room.

- Going to her sports games.

- Letting her rant to you before she has an aneurysm. You’ve certainly helped calm her down from some of her really bad tantrums.

- Hanging out with her little sister. Surprisingly enough, Regina actually really likes her and acts super cute when they’re together.

- She’s got a huge house and an aggressively supportive mom so if your parents are shitty, you’re always welcome to stay with them.

- Telling her how beautiful she is and trying to stop her from focusing on every little somewhat nonexistent flaw of hers.

- Reginas a very jealous girl. She hates seeing you with other people, particularly ones who she thinks are interested in you. She’ll ask what you’re doing talking to them and blatantly scare them away when she’s had enough.

- She’s definitely possessive of you; that’s just how she is.

- Don’t mess with mama bear. She’s sorta overprotective of you and gets offended in your honor. God forbid someone upsets you, or just accidentally bumps into you in the hallway, their life will be destroyed in a matter of minutes.

- The two of you probably fight a lot, sometimes merely bickering, other times having full on screaming matches. She’ll usually either act passive aggressive and pretend to not be bothered or be completely blunt and rude.

- You’ll usually give her the silent treatment and she’ll do the same to you, though she’ll snoop and secretly drive around to see what you’re doing without her. When she’s sick of not seeing you, she’ll give a reluctant apology and somehow always make you forgive her.

- Regina isn’t shy when it comes to saying she loves you, mainly because she usually says it playfully. Though, with that being said, she does always mean it when she says it.

- Perhaps the bus incident happens, perhaps it doesn’t. Nonetheless, the two of you are planning on sticking by each other’s sides; at least for a while.

[sturchling]

Gilded Poppy VS Hawkmoth

This is another part to the idea that I saw and talked about with @anastasian-dreamer and @musicfeedsmysoul12 . I just had to write it out! Find the first story here! The Gilded Poppy helping take down Hawkmoth. There will be some spoilers for the final episode of the first season of Jett’s route, so keep that in mind if you still haven’t read it. I hope you all like it!

The Gilded Poppy had never really paid Hawkmoth any mind. Sure he was a pain when his akumas interrupted their heists. But sometimes the chaos worked to their advantage as well. So they never really saw a point in worrying about it. Sure, they always made sure that Tom, Sabine, Marinette, and the bakery were fine after each attack, but that was about as involved as they got with the situation. That was until Hawkmoth came after one of their own. 

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Jett couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He felt almost numb. One of his best mates, Jock was laid out on the floor in front of him. Dead. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings at all. So it was a good thing that the rest of the Poppy was heard the ticking sound, and pulled him out of the building before the bomb went off. Now, as he stood on the street, watching the building before him burn and a crowd gathered around, Jett didn’t know what to think. Then he saw him at the edge of the crowd. Hugo Vansittart standing there, staring at Jett. Jett instantly saw red. He knew that Hugo did this and he was going to make him pay dearly for it. From the corner of his eye, he saw a dark butterfly fly towards his poppy pin. Then suddenly a strange feeling came over Jett, like his rage was increased ten fold. And a soothing voice spoke in his head. That is the last thing he remembered.

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Jett had been turned into Judgement, a justice based akuma that used an attack he called truth bomb. Anyone hit with his bombs confessed to any crimes they may have committed. For most people hit during this akuma attack, it was small stuff like jay walking, or littering. But Jett made sure to hit Hugo who confessed, during the live TV coverage of this akuma, to killing Jock and making the building explode. The other members of the Poppy made sure to avoid Jett. They wanted to help their friend, but if they got hit they would reveal they were members of the Poppy and that couldn’t happen. Ladybug soon had Jett deakumatized and Hugo was arrested immediately, along with some other citizens who had admitted to more serious crimes. Now Jett and the rest of the Poppy were angry for a whole new reason. How dare Hawkmoth come after one of them. They were fine leaving him to Ladybug, until now. An attack on one of them was an attack on them all, and no one messed with the Gilded Poppy and got away with it.

-----------------------

That said, the Poppy knew they would need help. They knew they needed to contact Ladybug. So, they left a burner phone at the top of the Eiffel Tower, where she and Chat Noir often met during patrol. They also set up a camera pointed at the platform, so they would know when the two heroes arrived. As soon as the two heroes arrived on scene, the phone lit up with a new text message. The two heroes were confused, but looked at the phone thinking someone had lost it and maybe they could return it to its owner. But when they read the message they knew it was for them. Hi Ladybug and Chat Noir. We are the Gilded Poppy. We wish to help eliminate Hawkmoth as a threat. He has become quite a pest to us. Our only condition is that if we meet, you do not tell anyone who we are. If this is agreeable to you, meet us here same time tomorrow. -Thief Lord

------------------------

Marinette was freaking out. She had been able to keep her composure while she talked with Chat Noir and they had agreed to at least hear the group out. But now that she is alone, she was panicking. That manner of speech from the text reminded her of someone. It reminded her of the way Nikolai spoke. And now that she thought about it, she remembered Nikolai, Remy, Vivienne, Jett, Leon, and Zoe all wearing the same pin. A golden poppy pin. Oh my god. They are the Gilded Poppy. I am friends with the Gilded Poppy. It didn’t bother Marinette, but it was certainly shocking. But she couldn’t be sure, maybe she was overthinking again. She wouldn’t be sure until she met with them tomorrow. 

----------------------

Marinette was freaking out internally again. She and Chat Noir had just arrived at the Eiffel Tower when she heard Nikolai’s voice from behind her. “I assume since you are here, you agree to our terms and won’t turn us into the police?” Marinette did her best to curb her panic, and slip into her Ladybug personality. “Yes, we won’t turn you in. Come out here.” And then, standing before her, were all her friends. She had been right. They were the Gilded Poppy. For their part, the Gilded Poppy was also surprised. Sure they knew the two heroes were young, but they didn’t realize how young until now. They couldn’t be older than Marinette. But they pushed that aside, they had work to do.

-------------------------

Marinette quickly took charge of the meeting and brought the thieves up to speed on everything. That the source of Hawkmoth’s power was his miraculous and how once they took that from him, he wouldn’t be a threat anymore. The Poppy felt comfortable. This was right up their alley. Stealing some fancy jewelry was nothing new to them. It would be weird to return the jewels to Ladybug and not sell them, but the Poppy understood that it was too dangerous for that to happen. For the next few weeks, the Poppy put all their resources to trying to get any clues towards who Hawkmoth could be. They also continued to meet with either Ladybug or Chat Noir every other day or so to go over any information they may have found. It was one night, during one of these meetings, that Marinette made a mistake.

----------------------

They had just finished up going over all their information. They were getting close to a suspect and the Poppy was sure they would have a name for Ladybug in the next week. As she turned to leave, Ladybug called over her shoulder “Thanks guys! See you at the bakery tomorrow.” Marinette froze as she realized what she just said. She hoped maybe they would just brush it off, but of course, the Poppy caught exactly what she had said. And it only took them about two seconds to realize what that meant. They had always thought Ladybug looked like Marinette, but convinced themselves that it was just a coincidence. But how else could they explain that comment. Remy stepped closer to Marinette, who still stood frozen on the edge of the platform in a panic. “Marinette? Is that you?” All of the Poppy was just staring at her and Marinette didn’t see a way out. So she just detransformed.

-----------------------

Needless to say, there was a lot of explaining to do that night. Marinette told them everything that had happened since she received her miraculous and all her adventures as Ladybug. The Poppy was horrified to learn that this girl that they viewed as a little sister had been fighting Hawkmoth without much help. And their rage toward Hawkmoth was renewed all over again. Now this monster had gone after another one of them. He had been making Marinette’s life hard for years now. And it was going to end soon. 

-----------------------

By the end of the week, The Poppy had used all their Underbelly resources and found a name as a suspect for Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agreste. He was the only person in Paris that had the resources and time to be Hawkmoth. They immediately told Marinette through the burner phone they had been using and the group of thieves met with Paris’ heroes. Chat Noir seemed hesitant to consider Gabriel as a suspect, but did eventually agree that it couldn’t hurt to check into the lead. Since the heroes couldn’t exactly be breaking into a random civilian’s home, it was decided that the Poppy would break into the manor that night and search for the two missing miraculous. With a description of the two jewels from Ladybug, Nikolai, Remy, Vivienne, and Jett quietly broke into the mansion and searched the place top to bottom for the jewels or any proof that Gabriel was Hawkmoth. Zoe remained at the hotel, monitoring all the security systems for the mansion as well as the camera feeds from the cameras being worn by Nikolai and Vivienne. Ladybug and Chat Noir were with her, watching the camera feeds. Leon was outside, ready to speed everyone away from the mansion at a moments notice. 

--------------------

When the group went into Gabriel’s office, they found the hidden safe in the wall, and inside that was the Peacock miraculous. Vivienne grabbed it and put the jewel in her pocket, before continuing to feel along the wall for any other secrets. Meanwhile, Chat Noir watched in horror as Vivienne pulled the miraculous out of the safe. This at the least confirms his father is involved somehow. Then the group accidently hit the right buttons to open the secret elevator up to Hawkmoth’s lair. When the cameras being worn by Nikolai and Vivienne showed the room with all the akuma butterflies flying around, it was clear that Gabriel Agreste must be Hawkmoth. Finally, Nikolai silently entered Gabriel’s bedroom. And there, resting on his nightstand was the butterfly miraculous. Nikolai snatched it and quickly left the room, as quietly as he came. 

----------------------

The Poppy returned to the hotel and gave the two miraculous to Ladybug. Ladybug called the police as soon as she had the miraculous. She told them that some concerned citizens had told her that they thought Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth. She also told them that after some investigation it was proven to be true and she had recovered the missing miraculous, making it safe for them to go arrest Gabriel. When the police arrived, they found Gabriel tearing the mansion apart, looking for his miraculous. He was arrested just in time for the morning news. Soon rumors started that the other members of the Agreste household were involved as well. Adrien, feeling he had no other choice at the time, had already revealed himself to Ladybug and accidently in front of the Poppy as well the night they recovered the miraculous. Marinette also revealed herself to him. So, knowing that Adrien wasn’t involved, Ladybug publicly announced that she had cleared Adrien of any wrong doing and that he had no idea what his father had been doing. Adrien ended up living with the Dupain-Chengs, being unofficially adopted until a more permanent situation was decided on.

----------------------

Once everything had calmed down, Remy and Jett started joking that Marinette and Adrien should join them on a heist. Or at least, it had started as joking. Soon, the rest of the Poppy had joined in and they were completely serious. Jett would often wrap his arms around their shoulders, saying “Come on you two! You could do some amazing things for a heist. Think of the possibilities!” Of course they both immediately denied it. After all, Paris’ heroes couldn’t be involved in crime. But then Nikolai said that they could just steal back a stolen painting from another thief and return it to its rightful owners. The Poppy didn’t care about keeping whatever they stole, they just wanted to go on a heisting adventure with the two kids they viewed as their siblings. When he heard the suggestion, Adrien was excited and begged Marinette to agree. Eventually Marinette relented. The combined force of the Poppy begging and Adrien’s puppy dog eyes was too much.

------------------------

They worked a small heist with the Poppy to steal back a painting that had been stolen from the Louvre many years ago. It didn’t take long to retrieve the painting and Ladybug and Chat Noir made sure it was returned, anonymously so as not to raise any questions about how they recovered the painting. Soon after the heist was completed, it was time for the Poppy to leave Paris for their next heist. The thieves came by the bakery to say goodbye to Tom, Sabine, Marinette, and Adrien. They never thought these four people would become so important to them, but now they couldn’t imagine their lives without them. After saying goodbye to the group and seeing them off, Marinette and Adrien went back up to Marinette’s room. When they opened the door, they saw something shining on Marinette’s desk. Sitting on her desk were two golden pins. Two golden poppy pins. The two teens smiled wide as they picked up the pins and fixed them to their shirts, happily waiting for the day they would see their friends, the Poppy, again.

[folkloreguk]

Gold Rush (optional bias)

A/N: I honestly don’t know a lot about the middle ages, so if anyone is a history genius, pls bare with me if I write something that doesn’t make sense asfghjk PS: feedback is greatly appreciated!!

genre: optional bias (male), thief!au, strangers to enemies to lovers, medieval!au, suggestive content, reader is always ready to fight lmao, a tiny bit of angst

summary: As thieves, you both try to steal from the same royal carriage. Only it doesn’t go as planned for either of you. Will you get away before the king sentences you both to death?

words: 8.9 k  

You had been tailing the royal carriages for an entire day now. You were sure your horse was getting exhausted, but the sun was setting and you knew what that meant. Soon, the transport would come to a halt. They would find a clearing somewhere, with trees as shelter from all sides. Then, they would set up their camp for the night, only to pack up everything in the morning and travel another two or three days, until they reached their destination: the castle. Only instead of delivering the full carriages, with gold, silver, pearls and gems, a few handfuls would be missing. It would be almost nothing to them, you suspected. They might not even notice it disappeared.

To you, however, it meant existing. You had to admit, being a thief hadn’t been your first choice when it came to choosing an occupation for the rest of your life. You had tried to integrate into different businesses. You were going to learn to be a baker, a glover and even tried to keep a job helping out on a farm. But none of these professions were for you. You were tired of being commanded around by men who tried to make you their little maid or worse – ask you for your hand in marriage. The judgement was tedious. “Aren’t you too old to be unwed?” “Where is your husband?” “How many children do you have?”

You wished you could talk back. “No, I’m just fine, he doesn’t exist and none – is it any of your business, by the way?” But you had learned that arguing with elders would only get you in trouble, and perhaps your decision to refrain from living the typical life was exactly what made it impossible for you to keep a job. That was, until you discovered your talent – a sleight of hand that was invincible. Some would call it avaricious; you would prefer to describe it as a passion. It wasn’t evil, just a thrill you enjoyed chasing. The beginnings had been humble. A few coins out of someone’s pocket here and there, some food from an unsuspecting marketer; you had to keep yourself afloat somehow, right?

But the seasons went by, and you became more audacious and greedier for your beloved adrenaline. Plus, you realized that stealing from the rich had something weirdly rewarding. Maybe it was the anger you felt at the king for hoarding the wealth of the land whilst letting his people starve in the streets. Either way, stealing from those who had power made you feel a sense of benevolence. You gave away some of your stolen goods to those who actually needed them, instead of letting all the money and jewelry rot away in someone’s bag and around someone’s neck. Sometimes you hid in the shadows after your theft had been settled, only to see the reactions of your victims. It might have sounded obsessive, but it gave you assurance, when they moved on after only minutes of complaint, because you knew those few coins were miniscule to all of them.

And currently, you were on to one of your most reckless thefts. You were well aware this could get you killed. Yet you couldn’t help it, the glimmer of the jewels and the gold was hypnotizing. Finally, the carriages had come to a halt. From a safe distance, you observed how they unloaded their tents and checked especially carefully where they kept the most desired goods. The wares would stay in the carriages, probably guarded all night long. You would need to wait for the right moment.

“Good job today, my dearest Dorato,” you whispered to your horse as you tied the reins to a tree. Gently, you pat his nose. He pushed his head closer to you, demanding more affection, but your eyes were already on your objective. For at least an hour you stood, hidden in the thicket, waiting for the sun to set completely and some of the men to lay to sleep. With a hawk’s gaze you counted the men and made sure you knew each of their whereabouts. One of the wagons stood with its back opening facing you – which was perfect. It was like they were presenting the goods to you on a silver plate. To the left of the wagon, some of the men had lit a bonfire and were seated around it. Judging by their laughter and lively conversations, you doubted they would go to sleep soon. One of them was sitting on the edge of the carriage, meant to guard the inside. He, who should have been paying the most attention, however, was fast asleep. And that was your chance.

“Wish me luck, Dorato,” you whispered to your horse, running your hand over his warm neck. Then, you slowly moved towards the carriage. Outside the shielding cover of the trees, you felt you needed to act quickly. The gales of laughter were helping against your vulnerability in reminding you that the men around the fire were trusting their sleeping guard to have everything under his control. Sly as a fox, you kept your distance and approached the opening of the wagon only when the bonfire was out of sight. You pulled the fabric to the side and with a swift jump, you landed on the edge of the carriage right next to the dozed off man. It only took one maneuver and you had opened the wooden chest nearest to you.

You grinned in triumph at the jackpot in front of you. With eyes sparkling just as much as the diamonds and gems, you grabbed handfuls and transported them into your bag.

“Henry, change of shift!” someone suddenly shouted. Their voice sounded scarily close to you, and then you heard footsteps approaching. Even though you had wanted to be greedier and steal some more, this was definitely your cue to get out of there. If they saw you inside the wagon, you’d be done for. So, without second thought, you yanked the cover away and leaped off the edge.

“Thief!” the surprised man howled as you passed him. Luckily, this wasn’t the first quick escape you had ever had to make. Your feet carried you rapidly, over the grass and into the trees where your horse stood. One quick pull and the reins had come off the tree trunk.

“Over there!” a hoarse man growled. Now more voices were heard, curses and angry shouts directed your way.

“Let’s go, boy,” you said and hauled yourself into the saddle. You pushed your legs against his belly, quickly signaled your horse the way and he knew the drill already. He took off sprinting, out of the forest cover. The wind in your face momentarily forced your eyes to tear up a little and you squinted against the cool night air. But just as you thought you were getting onto the gravel road, one of the guards jumped out in front of you. The fire from the torch he was holding danced aggressively in the wind. As he pointed it high, it was a blaze against the darkness of the night sky, and Dorato whinnied in terror. He jumped and reared up, and you lost balance.

“Seize her!” a man shouted at your disoriented figure on the ground. You wanted nothing more than to get back on your feet and flee. But it was no use. You were surrounded by a number of gravely livid men, and should you try anything stupid now, it would cost you your life, probably. Somebody grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up.

“Take the horse,” one of them ordered and your eyes widened. If they hurt your best friend it was the last thing they would do, you swore in silence. But to your dismay, as the men dragged you over to the wagon, they ripped your quiver and your bow from your back. You sat still as they tied your hands and feet and hurled you into the very wagon you had just stolen from.

“There you have your gemstones,” a guard spoke. “Look at them as much as you want, because soon you won’t be looking at anything anymore.”

Giving him a gaze so spiteful it should have hurt him physically, you spit right into his face. Lucky for you, he wasn’t up for a fight. It wasn’t on him to convict you for anything just yet. A complacent smile spread on your face as he walked away, wiping your saliva out of his eyes. At least now you had a guaranteed roof over your head for the night.

You were in slight trouble, you had to admit that. In two days, you would arrive at the castle. Depending on what the king decided, your punishment could be as severe as death. But until then, it would be a while. There was still plenty of time to escape, you assured yourself.

All night long, no matter how much you forced your eyes shut, you didn’t catch a minute of sleep. The men’s chatter was simply too loud and maybe you were concerned for your safety, after all – even if you would have never confessed it to someone other than yourself. The heavy chests of luxurious items sat across and next to you, as if they were mocking you for your foolish actions. For hours you sat staring at them, cursing your greed. Only in the morning, when the carriages continued their journey, the rocking of the wagon lulled you into a slumber.

~

You awoke later that day. Judging by the dim light falling into the carriage, it must have been the early evening. Curious, you scooted to the edge, lifted the fabric that was covering your sight and checked. Your assumptions had been right. The golden sunlight of the last hour of daytime shone into your face. The wagon you were in was the last of them, behind you only the bright gravel and trees left and right. For a while you daydreamed the boredom away. You went into another world, in which you didn’t have to steal to survive. In your real life, you were either born into luxury or you had to toil each day for the rest of your existence. There was no hard work that could have transported you out of your peasant-state and into something more carefree.

Suddenly, shouts ripped you right out of your dreamworld. The wagon had halted, but when you looked out the back, nothing was there. Trying to learn what the commotion was all about, you concentrated on the chaos of voices. Had they all gotten into an argument? The men were all talking at the same time, so there was really no use but to wait and see.

“You will be delighted to have some company until you receive your sentence from the king,” a man said. Footsteps drew nearer. Someone pulled away the fabric at the end of the wagon. Before you knew it, a figure was pushed inside. It was a young man but clearly not one of the guards, as he was dressed like a peasant. With a groan, he was bracing himself up across from you.

“Enjoying the ride?” the guard outside the wagon taunted you with a sneering grin. You spat in his face. Again.

“You little-“ he snarled.

“Let’s go! We can’t lose any more time!” someone yelled and unknowingly saved you from more trouble. The man disappeared and the carriages began to move again.

You welcomed the newest addition to your wagon by staring him down like he was about to take all the gold and diamonds clearly reserved for you. When he had sat up and checked his surroundings, he noticed your look.

“Is there a problem or something on my face?” he asked.

“Were you trying to steal from them?” you asked back. “Didn’t go as planned, did it?”

“Were you not?” he replied. “My highness, we’re in the same situation, so don’t you try to aggravate me out of tediousness.”

“Don’t you mock me, or you’ll receive the same response as the guard did,” you threatened. “And you are very wrong. You are going to be brought to the castle and thrown into a prison. I will escape.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “I see you’re making great progress with getting out of these ropes. You better hurry, or I’ll get away before you do. I can carry a lot in my pockets.”

You huffed.

“The diamonds are mine,” you stated, matter-of-fact.

“Whoever gets out first will have them,” he replied. “I’m betting on myself.”

“God…could you not have chosen a different day to steal from the royals?” you asked, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was your highness’ turn today,” he said, and his smile was taunting and cocky at the same time.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” you hissed, one second from collecting your saliva in your mouth.

“What do you prefer then?” he asked. His smirk made you wonder whether he was contemplating to suggest some more stupid pet names for you. He better not, you thought.

“I don’t know…what about my name?” you said. “It’s Y/N.”

“All right, Y/N,” he said. “And would you consider sitting on death row one of the more entertaining parts of your job? Are you used to it?”

If only looks could kill, he’d be torn to shreds.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been caught,” you said. “But judging by how lightly you’re taking this, you must spend more time in jail than outside of it.”

“What can I say? The guards love me,” he said. “But didn’t they teach you to be honest? I don’t believe you. Or maybe you were a coward for so long and this is your first time actually trying to steal. What’s the truth, sweetheart?”

There was nothing you despised like people who underestimated you. And with that, you spat in his face and turned away from him. Know-it-alls weren’t going to be granted a second of your attention.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said. “We’ll be here for another while, so we might as well become friends.”

“Missed your chance,” you said. And it was the last thing you said to him for a long time. Even when he tried so hard to lure you back into a conversation. You knew if you gave in, he’d never learn.

“My name is H/N, by the way. Oh, that’s right. You don’t care. I forgot,” he said. And he was right.

~

Having to rot away by yourself in the back of a carriage was already exhilarating enough. But rotting away in the back of a carriage while an irritating young man filled your head with stupid stories you could care less about? It made hell sound inviting. Even when the guards had set up their camp for the night, he occasionally tried to get you back into conversation. Because you had slept throughout the day, you knew you’d be awake until the early morning hours, a fact that only made your situation more unbearable.

Your ears picked up the crackling of the wood as the bonfire fed on it next to the wagon. Suddenly, a guard pulled aside the curtain. Without a word, he slid a plate with a piece of bread and a bowl with some water inside and left.

“This is going to be hard to eat with my hands on my back!” the young thief in front of you shouted, but the guard only laughed.

“Nice try,” you said, eyeing the food.

“Oh, she speaks after all,” he said. “And at least one of us is trying.”

“If I had one coin for every time you’ve provoked me since we met, I could buy my freedom,” you said. And again, he was in the wrong. Obviously, you had tried hard to figure out a way to get out of the restraints digging into your skin. If only you had a sharp object or –

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing his head at the bread. He was willing to share, at least.

“I’ll bite off half and you get the other side,” you announced and bent your head down to the plate.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, shoving you out of the way so you tumbled onto your side with a huff of surprise.

“What the fuck is your issue?” you asked, regaining you posture.

“I’m taking the first bite,” he said. “I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

“I’ll show you where my mouth is,” you snapped. The next moment you tackled him, teeth digging into his shoulder. He groaned in pain, ferociously pushing you off him. His foot hit your thigh and you realized if you had any chance of getting away, an injured leg wouldn’t make it easier. So, you trudged away slightly.

“Are you out of your mind? Did you just really fucking bite me?” he growled.

“Go ahead, eat your damned bread,” you snarled. With a sulky sigh, you leaned back against the chest behind you, shut your eyes and tried to keep your fury in check.

You sat that way for an hour, maybe a few. With time, the roaring laughter from outside had died down. It must have been the middle of the night when you opened your eyes again. The silence let you conclude that your fellow captive had fallen asleep. Finally, you bent down to where you suspected the water bowl to be and took a few gulps. Only now you realized just how empty your stomach was. But your nose picked up something. Bread. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the half of the piece he had left for you. His humble act redacted your opinion of him from 100 to 98% dickhead. Like a starved animal, you gobbled the food. When you took your place against the chest once more, even you managed to snooze off into a much needed rest.

~

When the carriage steered through a pothole it shook you out of your slumber. Surprisingly, it was completely bright outside.

“You’re just on time,” the young thief across from you announced. “We’re about to arrive at the castle.”

He hadn’t woken you up. Maybe he had earned a few more sympathy points – with emphasis on a few. Only twenty minutes later, you were lead trough the cold halls of some dark part of the castle, down into the dungeon. While the guards dragged you around, even your loudmouth shut. This was new territory and made you slightly nervous. Were you going to make it out of here? So far, nothing was decided. You dearly prayed the king would be in a fantastic mood when he convicted you.

Your whole body was sore from the hours of sitting in the same position on the hard wood of the wagon, so you almost welcomed being shoved through the uninviting halls. One of the guards cut the remaining ropes from your hands, before pushing you into a cell. Much to your dismay, your fellow wagon inmate would also join you in this prison.

“The king will tend to you lowlives when he has time,” the guard said. The loud metallic clash of the prison bars closing and the lock sliding in place sounded like your demise. Your eyes followed the guard’s figure helplessly, until he had disappeared down the dark hallway. A slam of a door indicated that he was gone. Like a nervous animal, you paced from one wall to the other over and over. Your arms were crossed in front of your body and you were trying hard not to have a nervous breakdown. You needed your brain for more vital things right now – like contriving a plan to escape this hellhole before you could be sentenced to death.

“Would you sit down, goddammit!” the young man remarked. He was leaning against the back wall of the cell, eyeing you closely. “I need to think!”

“Do you think I don’t?” you replied. The moment of panic in your voice was short-lived, but he probably noticed it either way.

“I can’t focus if you’re losing it in front of me,” he said. “If you’re already processing your inevitable death, that’s cool with me. But I’m still planning on getting out of here, so please try to process in silence.”

Your nostrils flared in anger and you clenched your hands to fists by your sides.

“You idiot!” you said. “If you hadn’t done everything in your power to make me despise you right when we met, we could have tried to flee together.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one biting me for having a sense of personal hygiene,” he fired back. “We’re stuck in here. But get it together, we’re not on death row yet.”

In disbelief you stared at him, your irritation almost drowning out the restless pounding inside your head. He held his chin high as if to challenge you. And you could have gone for it. Down here in this cold, forlorn dungeon no one would hinder you from fighting each other. No, you knew for a fact that not a single soul in this castle gave one last damn about whether you lived or died. But you were completely drained. After all the sleep you had gotten, you should have been wide awake, and maybe your body was – but your mind was in the middle of shutting down. So, even though it hurt your pride, you stopped your uneasy walking and mirrored his behavior on another wall. Arms crossed and eyebrows furrowing, you kept your eyes on the ground. Maybe he was right. Giving up wasn’t characteristic for you, so why was your head spinning from dread?

In desperate search of some sort of hope, you caught glimpse of his rather relaxed stance. If he could keep up a calm front, maybe you could too. Luckily, he wasn’t looking at you, and not noticing how you drew strength from his so simple but enheartening behavior.

~

Three days into your stay in the dungeon, you had found a daily rhythm. Your mornings consisted of pretending to be asleep for as long as you possibly could, then holding yourself back from attacking your beloved cellmate because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes. By midday your arguments had usually turned into playful bickering, because you couldn’t cope with being angry all the time. And frankly, you were bored. Even though standing his endless interrogations about your life was exhilarating, it was still better than losing sense of time and in the process also losing your sanity. Late, when darkness had fallen upon the land, a guard delivered a small ration of food for both of you. This was the part where your bickering morphed back into serious conflicts. If you were going to live on tiny amounts of food, you wouldn’t settle for the smaller ration of the two.

The fourth day was different. When you first reached consciousness, you heard nothing. Usually, he was already awake, noticing like a stalker when you awoke, only to tease you from the moment you woke up. But that day, you opened your eyes to a seemingly empty cell. Until you spotted him in the corner. His body was shaking, and his tiny, husky cough concerned you further.

“H/N?” you asked quietly. Considering the amount of loathing you’d thought you held for him, you sure worried an unnormal amount. But it wasn’t the mere thought of him being ill that concerned you most. It was the idea of having to suffer in the dark, murky dungeon all alone, day to day, until you’d have to face the king, who likely wanted you dead for your crimes. An ice-cold fear crept over you. You didn’t want to – no, you couldn’t – die lonely. Even if he was the last person you could have wished to be thrown into prison with, he was still company. This loathsome cell, the horrors of the near future, the neverending progression of time and the uncertainty that came with it – it all terrified you to the bone. Only now you realized just how much comfort he gave you, all by existing in the same space as you.

Carefully, you approached him. He wasn’t answering you, and he never not answered you. It was a heartbreaking sight. He was curled up in a fetal position, hands clenched to fists on his chest. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead. Whether he liked it or not, you sat down with him. Gently, you reached for his forehead. A second was enough to determine he was burning up.

“Get off me,” he said, slapping your hand away. His voice was so frail.

“Hush. Let me help you,” you insisted. He huffed in annoyance.

“Are you a doctor when you’re not a thief?” he asked.

“No. But improving your mentality will help your body recover faster,” you said. “And you seem to be in a very negative headspace right now.”

His mouth opened to speak, but then a shiver rippled through his body and he wrapped his arms around his knees tightly. All this time, he hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“We need to keep you cool,” you said. “Take off your jacket.”

“This isn’t the time to ask me to take off my clothes,” he said, almost whispered.

“Will you just do as I say so you can get better? Do you want to die in here?” you said, brushing off his words. Something flashed across his face. Fear? Disappointment? Aware that it could invade his comfort zone, you very carefully took his hands. Lucky for you, he let you. When his jacket came off, you noticed the sweat stains that had formed on his thin shirt.

“You can lie down on this, it’ll be more comfortable,” you advised. Without arguing, he followed your instructions and allowed you to spread out the jacket underneath him. This behavior was new, you thought. But you could surely get used it. You knew it must have been serious, if he didn’t give you a silly remark for everything you said.

“I’ll get you more water,” you said, as you retrieved the almost empty water bowl from the center of the stone floor. Set on not spilling a drop, you lifted it to his lips and watched as he swallowed the last few sips. You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe his wet hair out of his face, as he sunk back down onto the hard ground.

“Sleep now,” you said. You didn’t need to tell him twice. He had been almost unable to keep his eyelids open, so without hesitation, he drifted off into dreamland. For hours, you sat, hugging your knees to your chest, eyes on his anguished figure. Just as you had thought you could deal with the scary ordeal of being held captive in a castle dungeon, this had to happen. Stricken with sorrow, you waited for time to pass. If only you could have slept too, it would have made all the anxious thoughts go away. But someone had to look after him, and you weren’t tired.

His slumber must had been a hag-ridden one. Sometimes, he made small sounds, like whimpers, other times his brows furrowed, and his muscles flexed from whichever terror it was that haunted him in his head.

“Shh, you’re going to be okay,” you assured him, and maybe also yourself. But his tireless stirring only became worse, his body twisting and turning on the uneven ground. He groaned in agony, and your heart clenched like a million little daggers had slashed it.

“I’m here to keep you safe,” you whispered, bending down to his level. With utmost care, you lifted his head and let him rest in your lap. You weren’t really planning what was happening, but your hands found his hands. Softly, you stroked them, waiting for him to calm down and relax his tight fists. His mumbles and quiet moans of distress continued, until you realized. He was trying to tell you something.

“I can’t go like this,” he said.

“You’re not go-“ you started.

“No! My- parents need- me,” he stuttered. By now he was grasping your hands desperately. You sighed and his eyes opened ever so slightly. The anger he had held for you was vanished. You almost teared up at the delicateness of his gaze.

“I need to help them... they’re old and sick and can’t be alone,” he added in a small voice.

“We will get out of here,” you said. You had no idea when there had first been a ‘we’, but now there apparently was. “You have to be strong now, do you hear? Then you can meet your parents again.”

He was looking almost through you. His eyes were so dark, it was like staring right into the deepest part of the ocean. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, whilst trying hard to keep a hopeful gaze. For him, you had to appear strong. Or else, how else was he supposed to be?

“I’m sorry- I was such an asshole to you,” he suddenly confessed. “I thought you would steal away the gold before I could. And now look where that brought us.”

“This isn’t your fault. We were both being reckless,” you said. “I’m sorry I bit you. And threatened to spit on your face. And then spat on your face.”

The tiniest smile spread on his face. Success. Any sort of positive emotion could help him now.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he whispered. “I’ll think about whether I can forgive you. You must know, I’m very vindictive.”

His grin was playful, and his eyes were closed, as if he was on the brink of falling back to sleep.

“Forgiveness hurts less than holding a grudge for the rest of your life,” you said. Who knew? Maybe even the king could show remission. All you knew was that you would crumble, would you have to encounter the king alone. Your brain had set on the need for H/N. For years, you hadn’t formed any meaningful relationships – not counting your bond with your ardently loved horse. Now, with his head on your lap and your fingers intertwined with his, you ached for more. Was it really him you wanted? Or had you denied yourself of any affection for such a long time, the smallest contact with anyone appeased your yearning? Would you have felt the same, if it had been somebody else in his place?

~

At night, the metal noise of the door at the far end of the hallway outside your cell made you lift your head. Gently, so that H/N wouldn’t be awoken, you lifted his head to lay on the jacket instead of your thigh. In impatience, your foot tapped on the ground while you stood in the middle of the cell.

“Sir,” you called the guard with a fake-soft voice. “Will it be possible to receive another cup with water? My fellow inmate has fallen sick.”

The grumpy guard unlocked the metal bars, entering with the usual small ration of food and drink.

“What does it matter if he dies now or by command of the king? Do you think I care?” he growled, not sparing you a glance. You had been almost convinced this would have happened. So, you’d have to resort to different measures.

“Please-“ you begged, suddenly stepping towards the guard, who was on his way out of the cell. Without second thought, you threw yourself onto him, making sure to look extra-devastated and helpless. What could a weak, little young woman do to a guard, other than fall on her knees, right?

“Touch me once more and you’re dead, too, bitch!” he barked. One quick move of your skilled fingers and you eagerly backed off, hands hiding behind your back.

“Sorry, sir!” you said, lowering your head in false shame and guilt. “Please consider my request.”

All he gave you was a grunt of disapproval and he stomped out of the cell, the lock falling into place in a loud crash. Feigning inferiority and intimidation, you didn’t dare move until he was out of the dungeon. Then, you spun to the young man behind you on the ground.

“Open up,” you commanded, suspecting the shouting could not have kept him asleep. Finally, you could pull the flask you had stolen from the guard from behind your back. It seemed to be almost filled to the brim, too. Perfect. He did as he was told, and you let some of the water spill into his mouth.

“I take back what I said in the carriage,” he confessed. “Only full-time thieves have a sleight of hand like yours.”

“It was my pleasure proving you wrong,” you said. “Now, drink up.”

That night, you let him have the full ration of food. For at least ten minutes, he refused to have all of it. But you were stubborn and even though he hadn’t known you for long, he knew that much about you. If you wanted to escape with him, he would need to be fit to run. You had deemed your chances small to begin with, but in his state, you estimated them close to zero. After you had emptied the guard’s flask, you reached through the prison bars and tossed the item as far away from the cell as you could. He should never assume you’d had anything to do with its disappearance. The next day, a different guard would find it there, and bring it back to him under the assumption that he had carelessly dropped it.

~

Two days passed by. In the first night of the two, you had to comfort him through another few nightmares. During the day, he was sleepy, but had enough energy to have a little conversation with you now and then – something you read as a good sign. The second night, you were able to sleep all the way through, and when you checked his forehead in the morning, it had cooled down a little. On the second day, he had regained his strength enough to be able to sit, leaning against your shoulder.

“Will you stop moving? My head’s pounding,” he said.

“Your complaints make me wonder if you’re doing well now,” you asked, smirking.

“Like I said…my head’s killing me,” he repeated.

“Drink the rest of the water,” you suggested. “I think it’s almost evening. The guard will bring a new bowl soon.”

“It’s your turn to eat tonight,” he stated.

“We’re sharing,” you said. Lucky for him, he didn’t fight back. You wouldn’t have cooperated, either way.

“It’s time to make a plan now, if we want to get out of here. What do you say?” you asked. When he lifted his head, you looked over at him. The color was back in his face, the beads of sweat nonexistent and his cheeky smile bright as ever.

“I wonder…about what your little magic hands did to that guard’s flask…could they do the same with his keys?” he suggested. The way you mirrored his mischievous grin, he knew you agreed. But it would be trickier, this time. From days worth of observation, you had learned that the guards behaved differently. Some adamantly made sure the keys remained in their clenched fists – an instance you couldn’t work with at all – while others preferred to leave them in the lock by the door. You knew you’d never get close enough to even attempt to steal them from there. What you needed was the careless type of guard. The one who snuck the keys into their pockets or left them hanging on their clothes by the keyring. All it took now was to wait and hope the king would keep you locked away for long enough to give you a chance to flee.

That night, luck wasn’t on your side. The guard kept his hands on his keys as if they were his most precious possession.

~

“Do we really have to go over this again? I told you your pacing is driving me insane,” he said. It was midday of the following day, and you were deep in thought – or you had been – until he had to interrupt you.

“What do you expect me to do? We’re jailed like animals,” you countered. “I can’t stand around like you all day.”

When you saw him open his mouth, you read in his expression what he was about to do. It was his bickering face.

“If there’s one thing I’m not in the mood for currently, it’s getting lectured by you over nothing. Come up with a topic of conversation, please,” you said before he could speak. His smirk concerned you.

“What are you in the mood for, then?” he asked with raised eyebrows. Your death glare said more than a thousand words. “Fine, here’s a conversation topic…let me think…why are you not married?”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you said in the most impassive tone you could muster.

“Oh, alright, if that’s not good enough, I’ll go back to flirting,” he said. The steps he was taking towards you made your brain activate fight mode.

“I’ve never met a man good enough for marriage,” you said.

“And what qualifies a man to be good enough for you?”

“Hm…where do I begin? I’m not a good cook, nor do I enjoy being a maid, nor do I know how to take care of children. Most men want those things in a woman.”

“You took pretty good care of me, didn’t you? But why waste your thieving talent on running a household?” he said.

“That’s where the issue lays. Men don’t favor women who sneak around the village at night and make their own money from being a criminal.”

“Nothing wrong with being a criminal,” he went on.

You laughed out loud.

“You know what? I like it this way. Why settle for staying with one man who might turn out to be a monster, when I can have them all for a night?” you said.

“Well, right now you’re not having anyone.”

���Seems like that’s bothering you more than it bothers me,” you replied in a feisty tone. If you didn’t call him out for the flirting, who would? Although you had to admit, you greatly preferred being courted to his unnerving teasing.

“Why would that bother me?” he asked. “You hate me, don’t you?”

He was right in front of you now, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that made you consider biting him again. And at the same time, something in your body – not your head – wanted to close the small distance between you two.  

“If I hated you, I would have let you die,” you said.

“I assumed you kept me alive because you need me to get out of here.”

Now you had another reason to get up in his face. You gripped him by the collar, looking into his eyes.

“Excuse me? You think I wouldn’t be able to escape by myself? If you’re only trying to rile me up, you better let me know, because I already told you I can’t stand to be underestimated,” you said.

“Alright,” he rose his arms in defeat. “After your little stunt with the guard I’m actually pretty glad I have you in here with me. Honestly, I don’t think I’d get out without you.”

“Was that so hard to spit out?” you said, self-accomplished.

“No. But you only come close to me when you’re mad or worried,” he said. By now, his eye contact was captivating in the most confusing way possible. His eyes occasionally skipped to your lips. “And since I’m not sick anymore, I had to opt for the former.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said. Unbelievably handsome, your brain added. And yes, maybe he was. Perhaps it wasn’t so much his beautiful face, but the way he spoke, understanding, even encouraging your lifestyle. You had just forced him to be honest with you. So, maybe it was time to stop holding back the truth from yourself, too.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked. It’s time to give in, you told yourself. Therefore, rather than telling him, you showed him. With a sudden rush of hunger, your lips crashed against his. Momentarily, he seemed taken aback and let out a surprised groan. But within seconds he caught himself, hands grabbing your sides desperately. You thought addictions needed more time to develop, but the feeling of his mellow lips on yours already seemed like one to you.

You had never kissed anyone who had truly made you feel things. Now, your knees were weak in an instant when his tongue grazed yours only for a moment. After so much arguing, it was hard to believe your hands clasping the fabric of his shirt couldn’t be a product of you cursing him but derived from mere want. The way he claimed your mouth silenced even your most invasive thoughts. It was a serenity you had wished for ever since you had gotten caught a few days ago. A moment to breathe freely, make whichever noises you desired and be as close to him as you could.

You pulled him along, stumbling backwards until you hit the cold stone behind you. Being trapped in a dungeon was horrific – but being trapped between his body and the wall left you feeling safer than you had felt in a long, long time.

But the peace didn’t last long. You suddenly heard the all too familiar metal noise from the distance. Alarmed, you sprung apart. As the unexpecting guard walked down the dark hallway, you smoothed out your clothing hastily.

“Congratulations! Your time in here will be over. Tomorrow the king will see you,” the guard announced. You shot your fellow inmate an alerted gaze, which he returned. Silently, he nodded at you. It was time to do something. The guard was now opening the door, bringing inside your food. His key was in his hands – this was going to be an issue. He set the plate down in the front of the room, and was in the process of spinning around, when H/N spoke.

“Sir, may I attract you to a magic trick?” he asked the guard. “I have been practicing it for so long, and it would be a shame if I had to die before I could ever present it.”

“Go to hell,” the guard said.

“I have a coin here,” H/N added. The guard raised his head. “If you win, you get to keep it.”

“Give it to me,” the annoyed man said.

“That’s not how it works. First, I will need both of your hands,” H/N explained. You smiled slightly when the guard sighed. He complied, letting his keys disappear into his oversized pocket. Retrieving them would be child’s play for you.

“Stick up your hands ahead of you. And keep your eyes locked on the coin. Be quick, or you’ll lose it,” H/N said in his dramatic voice. As he lifted his own hand with the coin in it, the guard followed and looked upwards. This was your time. Like a cat, you tip-toed around the guard’s back, not even paying attention to what H/N was doing anymore. Ever so swiftly, your hand slid into his pocket, fingers closing around the chill metal. As quickly as you had approached him, you stepped away, the key sliding into your sleeve and out of sight.

“Incorrect!” H/N called. “But you know what? I will grant you the coin either way. By tomorrow, I might not need it any longer.”

The guard even went so far as to laugh – even if it was a gloating sort of laughter. The only thing left to do now was hope he wouldn’t discover his missing key. But luck was on your side. Without another word, the man stepped out of the cell, shut the door, and walked off. The tune he whistled became smaller and smaller, until it faded out completely.

“Guess who’s getting out of here?” you asked, triumphantly revealing the key.

“You did it!” he exclaimed. You weren’t sure whether it was a spur of the moment decision, or maybe he was just too ecstatic to stop himself, but he flung his arms around your frame and squeezed you tightly.

“Hey, hey, you can’t crush me so close to my escape,” you laughed.

“Our escape,” he smiled. “We need to act fast. He could notice the missing key any second.”

Nodding eagerly, you grabbed half of the bread and downed half of the water bowl. You weren’t going to leave that behind. After all, you never knew when your next meal would be.

“If we make it to the stables, we can get a horse,” he announced. “I saw them on our way here. They’re to the west. The sun should be setting now, if my sense of time is still correct. Let’s hurry, or else we’ll be out of directions.”

“Dorato!” you exclaimed. “They took my horse!”

“The black horse that was tied to the carriage when we came here? I saw him,” he noted. You nodded, swearing you would leave here without Dorato only over your dead body.

~

Ten minutes later you had successfully exited the cell and approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“Out there it’s on both of us to keep running, okay?” you whispered.

He only nodded. “Towards the setting sun.”

The second you had slipped past the door you were spotted by a maid.

“Prisoners!” she yelled. Your plan to slip away unnoticed had gone down the drain quickly. With one last glance at the young man next to you, you both took off. The way out of the castle was still burned into your brain from when you had been brought inside. Back then, you had already planned to get out, so you had payed an extra amount of attention. When you reached a turn, you barely had time to think about the right way. By now, two guards were after you and you were forced to trust your intuition. H/N was a little ahead of you. The sudden exercise after being refined to a tiny cell for so long made your chest burn in exhaustion after only such a short while. But the adrenaline drowned it all out easily.

You knew you had to be close to the outside, it was a feeling. But then, all of a sudden, a guard cut off your path in front of you. H/N was racing far ahead, so that he could get away. You, on the other hand, had no time to overthink your actions. Before the guard could catch you, you had ducked under his outstretched arms. Now, sprinting down an unfamiliar corridor over the marble flooring, your sense of direction was gone, but your will to survive vigorous as ever.

For minutes you ran, collecting a horde of guards behind you the longer you kept going. When you turned a corner, you were greeted by another long corridor. Only this time, it was a dead end.  Nevertheless, you kept up the speed. What else could you have done? By now, your calves felt like they were on fire, breath coming in short gasps. You suddenly took notice of the precious paintings and statues that adorned the hallway. Maybe this was the answer.

Without slowing down, you took hold of a stone vase. Just for a moment, you gathered all your might. Then, you dashed it forward, against the window at the very end of the corridor. Your body followed shortly after, but it was enough time for the glass to shatter before you. In a protective manner, you folded your arms over your chest and shut your eyes tightly as your figure flew through the opening.

When you had passed the window, your eyes opened, and you ducked. Soft grass caught your body as you rolled onto the ground. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs momentarily. But within seconds you were back on your feet. Aggressive shouts from behind you only motivated you to keep going. Faster. Just a little longer. Dawn had broken in, but the sky was still a bright blue to your left. That’s where you were headed. A market place close by acted as the perfect cover for a while. You barely had time to watch out, crashing into people’s shoulders and knocking over bowls and baskets. An enraged shout followed you, but you were already far gone.

And he had been right. Your nose picked up the scent of hay and animals. You had to be close. What if he wasn’t there? What if they caught you again? A short panic bubbled up inside of you. Stealing might could have been forgiven, but for your current deeds no king would let you live. The wooden stables were in sight by now.

You could barely breathe anymore, but something inside of you kept you up and going nonetheless. Every breath burned as you entered, stalls of horses and other animals to your left and right. But no sight of H/N. Nor of your horse. Did he leave without you? Had he assumed you had been caught and tried to save his own life, at least? Your head spun as you scanned the animals one last time. Then, the men’s deep shouts caught up with you. You needed to get out, or else this stable would turn into a trap.

When your feet hit the cobblestone outside, you spotted the mob of angered men and women coming at you. They were holding spears, torches and pitchforks and were livid.

“Y/N!” someone suddenly yelled from your right. The sound of his voice had never sounded better to you. He was on your horse, careering towards you. One last look at the furious crowd of peasants and guards, and then you only focused on him. Only a little more strength, and you could get out of here.

The second he was close enough to you, you started running again. Like you had done so many times, you hauled yourself onto Dorato behind him. Your hands caught his shirt and you pulled your body flush against him. You needed no words. Now, you only needed to trust your horse to get you out of here. Just for a moment, you closed your eyes in exhaustion and took a few, consciously deep breaths. In lightning speed, you raced across the grass and towards the archway out of the courtyard.

And you made it. He shouted in a boisterous tone, and while at first you laughed, you couldn’t help but join his happiness loudly.

 ~2 months later~

 The rough bark of the tree was digging into your back, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when he was all over you. Not when his scent was so intoxicating, and his busy hands made you forget about any other sensation on your skin. It took no time. You had escaped together, thinking it was your time to part ways after what you had gone through with him. Now, each day you hung on his every word and couldn’t even bear to be away from him for minutes at a time.

Not far from you, your two horses stood, grazing on the grass by their feet. Meanwhile, the two of you, supposed to be on the lookout for your next target, had found another occupation in the cover of the trees. The market close by wasn’t exactly your goal – it was the nobles who would arrive in their carriages like every weekend to spend time by the beautiful lake. While they had their picnics and gossiped about each other, there was enough time for you two check for some gifts to retrieve from their carriages.

You sighed happily as he kissed your neck ever so softly. In him, you hadn’t just found a partner in crime. He was your muse, your comfort and your home. His family was your new family and finally, you had someone to tell all your most unbridles stories and dreams to – someone who could actually reply, with no offense to your horse. Going out stealing was as exciting as hiding between the sheets with him. In such a short time, he had learned to read your face and knew every curve of your body like it was a part of himself, and you had no problem with that.

Suddenly, he pulled away. He looked over your shoulder, gaze changing from tranquil to fierce.

“There they come,” he announced. That moment, you heard the sounds too. Hooves and the crunch of gravel under wheels. Smiling in excitement, you turned to check the situation as well. But you had to be honest, he was much more entertaining to look at. Like in so many cases, you found yourself tied to his gorgeous features and the way his jaw clenched when he was plotting.

“Eyes on the prize, sweetheart,” he said, not peeling his look from the carriages.

“Don’t you know, I’ve already won the best prize there is in the world?” you asked, hearts in your eyes and a cheeky smile on your face.

[kazandthecrows]

All I’m Asking For Is A Day of Peace and Quiet

a/n: Hello everyone! I’ve been working on this for a while for @grishaversebigbang ! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it :) I’ve had the pleasure of working with some insanely talented artists on this project and I hope that you love the final product! 

Beware spoilers for all the Grishaverse books! The first chapter is up and I’ll keep updating it over the next couple of days! 

Corporalki (my badass beta reader): @purns-art

Materialki (the coolest artists I know): @aureatepaper (art link)   @alittleartistic (art link)  @crownofnight (art link)    @nataliert (art link)

Summary: 

Nikolai just wants to find the perfect way to actually propose to Zoya, but literally everything gets in his way. When the long lost ring he’d been planning to propose with shows up in Ketterdam, he finds himself going on an adventure with Kaz and his crows.

Here’s the link to read it on Ao3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33702874/chapters/83764771

Or read chapter one below: 

Chapter One 

“I don’t need to go on a vacation, Nikolai.” A stressed Zoya Nazyelensky exclaimed. Nikolai didn’t believe one word of that sentence. They were currently walking through the halls of the Grand Palace because the only way Nikolai could get a word in with her is if he met her in between going to one of her several meetings with diplomats, rulers of other nations, or anyone who needed to request time with the new Queen of Ravka.

Zoya wasn’t one to outwardly show her stress, but Nikolai knew that something was up. She looked immaculate. Her hair was perfectly done, she was dressed the part of a young Queen, her dark blue dress made her look as if she was wearing the night sky itself, and she carried herself with confidence and never let anyone see her falter. But Nikolai could often see what others couldn’t. The forced smiles, the way her shoulders fell a little whenever they were behind closed doors. The responsibility was weighing on her in the same ways that it weighed on him, and on this occasion, he was grateful for his experience as a royal so that he could help her through it as best he could.

“Yes, you really do.” He pushed. He had caught her in a rare moment of peace. She had just left a meeting with a number of Zemeni diplomats, and she was on her way to another meeting with some ambassadors from the Wandering Isle. He matched her pace easily, walking alongside her in hopes it would make her slow down a little.

“I can count the number of times I’ve spent time with you in the last two weeks on one hand, and 90 percent of those times you fell asleep.” Zoya stopped in her tracks, catching Nikolai off guard.

“That’s not true.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Think about it, Zoya.” He pressed. “You’re tired, stressed, and I can see the early stages of burnout starting to take over.”

“I’m fine, besides, I don’t have the time to take a break.”

“If you can’t take a few days off, how about an afternoon?” He asked. Zoya stayed silent, but if Nikolai could just have a few hours of her time, that would be enough. She sighed, nodding in acceptance.

“I’ll see what I can do about clearing tomorrow afternoon.” Nikolai could have exploded with joy. Progress, he thought.

“Perfect, meet me in the gardens tomorrow, then.” He moved towards her gently and pressed a feather-light kiss to her cheeks. When he pulled away, he swore he could see his former general blush.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She said quietly. Nikolai smiled fondly at her as they went their separate ways.

“Good luck with your meeting, my love, I hear the Kaelish ambassadors can be quite charismatic!”

----------

The garden of the Grand Palace had quickly become one of Nikolai’s favorite places. It was large enough that you could hide from anyone you were avoiding and quiet enough that it felt as if you weren’t in the palace anymore. It was an area of sanctuary, and Nikolai knew that Zoya would find it easier to relax here.

He’d set everything up perfectly. He had laid pillows and a picnic blanket down with snacks and tea in an alcove almost completely hidden by azalea bushes. He and Zoya had already come out here before, and he knew that it was unlikely they would be bothered here.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to her presence. His face lit up at the sight of her. Zoya’s hair was down from all the pins and ribbons she was wearing previously, and she had replaced her dress with a much more comfortable-looking white shirt and a pair of light brown trousers. Her small smile grew into a grin as she spotted him lying casually on the blanket.

“Goodness Nikolai, did you do this all yourself?”

“I had some help.” He said sheepishly.

“Well, I’m impressed.” He laughed as she lowered herself down onto the blanket. It had been an extremely busy few months, and he honestly couldn’t remember a time where they’d ever done this. All their time spent alone together felt so fleeting.

“Please tell me that nobody knows we’re here.”

“Just Genya, but only so she can keep everybody out.” Zoya said cheekily.

“Perfect.” Nikolai chuckled, moving closer to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. Zoya’s eyes drifted shut, savoring the moment.

“I really do think that we should take a few days off and go somewhere.” Nikolai said earnestly. They both deserved a few days with each other, that’s all he was asking for.

“Nikolai, I already told you, I don’t know if I have time.”

“You know, I find that one of the best things about ruling a country is being able to do as you please.” He poked fun at her, but he knew her reasoning.

“Where would we go?” She asked seriously. Nikolai was pleasantly surprised, this was the first time she’d actually expressed interest in going anywhere.

“There’s a cottage about halfway between Keramzin and Balakriev, it’s technically ours so we could go there whenever you wanted. It’s in the middle of nowhere, no one would bother us, and we could even pay a quick visit to Alina and Mal if you’d like.”

Curiosity filled Zoya’s features. It had been a while since they’d seen their friends. It would feel like a break if they went to visit them.

“We’d have plenty of time to ourselves, and then we can also see some friends. It’s a perfect mix of hiding from our responsibilities and socialising.”

“That would be really nice.” She said, but Nikolai could sense she wanted to say more.

“But?”

“But, it just doesn’t feel right to leave.”

“Sleep on it, Zoya.” He urged, “it won’t be for long, and you have a support system here who can help keep things running while we’re gone.”

She was silent for a moment, and Nikolai was hopeful that he had gotten through to her.

“Alright, let’s do it.” She said stubbornly. Nikolai felt like jumping for pure joy. Finally, he thought, he’d finally managed to do what others had thought impossible. He’d managed to convince Zoya Nazyalensky to go on holiday.

----------

Nikolai paced across his room, picking up different items and placing them into the assigned bags as Genya helped him organise. The two had almost everything ready. They crossed each other several times in comfortable silence, until Nikolai stopped and looked up.

“Genya.”

Genya continued to gather items, but turned her attention towards him slightly, to let him know that she was listening.

“Yes?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know of a sapphire ring that my mother used to own?”

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him, questions filling her eyes. That didn’t exactly give him much hope, considering he was the one with questions to ask her.

“She had a lot of jewelry, Nikolai.” Genya said pointedly. Her time spent working for the Queen had meant she knew the ins and outs of everything she did, and everything she wore.

“Yes, but it was a very sizable sapphire ring.”

“What would you need with a sapphire ring?” She asked. Nikolai looked at her for a few moments, saying nothing. It was enough for her to realise why he was being so insistent.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, dropping the folded shirt that she was holding.

“Yes, oh.” Nikolai said, falling dramatically into the chair at his desk, one arm draped across his forehead.

Genya grinned. “I bet you regret giving Alina the Lantsov emerald now.” Nikolai scowled at her, only encouraging her laughter.

“Alina deserved the emerald, and she had a better use for it than I ever did.” He sighed.

“I didn’t realise that things had been moving so quickly between you two.”

“The last few months have certainly helped us grow closer.” After Zoya had become Queen, Nikolai had done everything he could to make sure that she wasn’t struggling, and they had spent even more time than normal together. Truthfully, Nikolai missed it, but everything that had happened, from the Darkling’s return to Nikolai being able to control his demon and his General turning into a literal dragon. He knew he wanted her to be his Queen, but now that things had settled down he had never been more sure of anything; he wanted to propose to her.

“I’m so happy for you Nikolai, you both deserve the world.”

“She’s my world, and she’s far too good for me.” He spoke softly.

“You and I both you’re perfect for each other, and also, there were many Lantsov heirlooms, there are some that were bound to have gone missing.” Genya said.

Nikolai vaguely remembered talk of a sapphire ring he was hoping to find, but he’d only ever seen it once in a box on his mothers' vanity. Thinking back on it, it reminded him exactly of Zoya. The ring was a beautiful, vibrant dark blue, and it would suit her perfectly. The only problem was that he hadn’t seen it since he was a child, and anything could have happened to it.

“Whichever ring you’re talking about, I don’t think I’d seen it on her.” Genya said, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Nikolai racked his brain, trying to come up with places where it could have been. He began pacing again.

“It would have been the perfect item for someone to steal and sell on the black market, wouldn’t it?” He said.

“Sure, but it could be anywhere.”

Nikolai smiled, his plans slowly coming together.

“If there’s anyone that could locate a lost ring, it’s Kaz Brekker.” Genya sighed, her head falling into her hands.

“Zoya is going to be so happy once she finds out that you needed Kaz Brekker’s help to get her engagement ring.”

“I’ll send word to the Wraith, perhaps Captain Ghafa will be of help.”

Perhaps if Nikolai and Zoya were away long enough, he hoped she would fail to notice that he’d been looking for her engagement ring across Ravka and Ketterdam.

“I’m glad that you’re going on this trip, but have fun convincing Zoya to take a break.”

“Don’t worry, she’s going to love it.”

----------

“This is a terrible idea.” Zoya stated, watching Nikolai step into the small cottage. He looked back at her only to see an unimpressed scowl on her face.

“I happen to think that a little break away from all the duties and responsibilities of a Queen might be exactly what you need.” He said, grinning. Zoya wanted to smack that grin off of his face.

“I shouldn’t have said yes to this, you caught me in a moment of weakness.” She had been half asleep when he’d brought up the idea, and she’d only agreed to it because at the time nothing had sounded more appealing than some peace and quiet. But she was the Queen of Ravka, and there was too much to do.

“Zoya, please relax.” He smiled, resting his hands on her shoulders softly. “Genya has everything sorted and it’s only for a few days. She wouldn’t let anything bad happen while we’re gone.” He hoped that would be enough to assure her that everything would be alright and that after all they’d been through she deserved a few days of rest, but Zoya Nazyelensky and rest were two things that did not seem to go together.

Nikolai had brought them to a small cottage just outside of Os Alta. The last few months had taken a toll on them both. Zoya had been adjusting well to life as Queen of Ravka, but a break from them was long overdue. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, Zoya was scowling, and all was right in the world.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we return and Genya is the new Queen of Ravka.” Zoya exclaimed, making Nikolai chuckle, his face suddenly turning serious.

“Yes, we should be afraid.” He said, and moved to put the bags they had brought into the living area. Nikolai thought it would be a good distraction for Genya to take over for a few days, they all needed some time to distract themselves. Zoya had barely had time to herself since becoming Queen, and more importantly, Nikolai had barely any time alone with Zoya. They never had enough time to relax with one another, so their trip was long overdue.

“Funnily enough, Genya actually helped me plan this.” He said, “So, the bedroom is to the left, the kitchen is through there, and the room you’re currently standing in is in the living room, although I can imagine you already came to that conclusion.” Zoya stared at him pointedly, still unconvinced.

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” She said as Nikolai sauntered towards her, and smiled softly. His fingers brushed her cheek softly as he glanced at her.

“Zoya,” he said in a hushed tone, “ you deserve to rest.” He cupped her cheek as she leaned into his touch.

“I’m well aware that resting is against every fiber of your being, but please try, for me?” The look Nikolai gave her made her want to melt into his arms and never leave them, so she nodded silently and sighed.

Although Zoya would never admit it, she was grateful to Nikolai for getting her away from the palace and taking a break for a little while. It had only been a day since they’d arrived, and they’d done nothing but eat, sleep, and lay in each other's arms and talk about the smallest things, from stories of both their childhoods, to Zoya’s upbringing in the little palace.

Zoya felt as though she could stay like this forever, covered in blankets, Nikolai’s arms wrapped around her. They had spent the whole morning like this, drifting in and out of sleep. Zoya glanced up at Nikolai to see his eyes were barely open, but he was looking at her. She smiled at him gently.

“You know, we might actually have to get out of bed eventually.” She said, bringing herself closer to him. Nikolai’s arms tightened around her, his thumb brushing her shoulder softly.

“Who says?” He mumbled, a content sigh leaving his lips.

“I say.” Zoya laughed. “The weather is beautiful outside, we should go and enjoy it while we can.”

Nikolai’s eyes widened at her request. “Well, it’s nice to see that your mood has improved since we arrived.”

“I have to admit, this is much better than having to rule a country.” Zoya said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Nikolai’s cheek. “But we should do something, or see something.” She insisted. Nikolai’s frowned, deep in thought. A thought came to Zoya’s mind, one that had even surprised her.

“We aren’t that far from Keramzin. How about we pay some old friends a visit?”

“You want to see Alina and Mal?” He said.

“At least this time it’ll finally be under better and brighter circumstances.”

The last time Zoya had been to visit Alina and Mal, she had brought the Darkling into their lives once again. Their appearance at her coronation was a welcome one, and while Alina and Zoya had their differences, the Darkling and the destruction of the Fold had changed them both.

“Alright, let’s go and see Alina and Mal.” Nikolai sighed, but only held onto Zoya tighter.

“Nikolai!”

“Just give me five more minutes.”

----------

The journey to Alina and Mal’s orphanage was short, and the fresh air and sunlight was welcome to Zoya, who was beginning to realise just how much she needed some time to do absolutely nothing but ride her horse and spend time with Nikolai. As they approached the orphanage, Zoya could make out a figure stepping out into the entrance. The figure stopped and waved a very Alina wave and shouted something inside. Momentarily, another figure trudged out the door. Mal.

Zoya could barely get off her horse before being enveloped into a tight hug. Alina was always more of a hugger than she was, but nevertheless, she found herself returning the embrace with the same fondness.

“Zoya, it’s so good to see you!” Alina said, her smile as bright as the sunlight she used to summon.

“It’s good to see you too, Alina.” Zoya returned the smile with her own, albeit a more reserved one. They turned to see Mal greeting Nikolai with a friendly grin and a handshake. Alina beamed at them and moved to take Zoya’s hands.

“I’m so glad that you decided to come and visit, it’s not often we get royalty for company.” Alina said, eliciting a laugh from Nikolai and Mal.

“I’m glad you still want me around, considering what happened the last time I visited.” Zoya said timidly, her mind wandering back to the Darkling.

“Firstly, it wasn’t your fault, and secondly, you’re always welcome here.” Alina said, her hands still grasping Zoya’s.

“Now, come inside, I even made tea for this.”

----------

Zoya and Nikolai had spent the entire afternoon catching up with Mal and Alina. It felt surreal, considering all that they had been through together over the past few years. They talked as if they were old friends who hadn’t destroyed the Fold, turned into a demon, lost all of their powers, or gained brand new ones.

Towards the end of the afternoon, when all the chatter had winded down and they’d caught up on each other's lives. Alina pulled Nikolai aside, asking for a few moments alone with him. Nikolai followed her out of the room and into the courtyard they entered a few hours prior. Once they were far enough away, Alina turned to him with an excited glint in her eyes.

“When are you going to do it?” She asked.

“Do what?”

“Propose! It’s about time, Nikolai.”

“Well, ideally I’d like to have a ring to propose with, and so far that’s not looking good.” Alina gave him a sympathetic look.

“You could propose holding a twig and she’d still say yes. It’s your fault you picked a long-lost ring.”

Nikolai and Alina and corresponded through letters in recent months, keeping each other updated on the happenings of Keramzin and the Grand Palace. He’d told her about the ring in case she’d be able to find any information, but they hadn’t had any luck.

“I’m well aware. Genya said she’d send word as soon as she hears something, and I still haven’t heard from my contacts, so if there’s nothing by the end of the month I’ll have to improvise.”

“You must really love her if you’re going to all these lengths to propose to her.”

“She deserves something fit for the Queen of Ravka.”

“Either way, she’ll be happy to marry you.”

----------

The next morning, the couple did not expect to find Tolya standing at the door, with a cloaked figure next to him. The figure lifted their hood, and the face of the Wraith became clear.

A very confused Zoya turned to Nikolai, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Captain Ghafa, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Nikolai asked. It had taken a considerable amount of effort to get in touch with her. As it turned out, the Wraith truly lived up to her name. She seemed to appear in the most random places. Nikolai had to request the help of allies in the Wandering Isle, Fjerda, and Novyi Zem to find her. Once he could contact her, he explained the situation and asked her to get into contact with anyone who might have had information on the whereabouts of the ring.

“I received your letters.”

“I must admit, I’m very surprised you’re here, you’re notoriously difficult to get a hold of.”

“I have a lead on the item you asked me to look for.”

Excitement coursed through Nikolai. Has she found it? Was this all coming together?

“And?” He asked eagerly, ignoring Zoya’s perplexed gaze.

“It’s in Ketterdam.”

[theheraldsrest]

“Inner circle receiving/giving gifts”

‘Tis the season, you know? -Cabot

Cullen

 He’s that type of person who has been with a group for a long time, but still doesn’t know what to get anyone. His main gift to people are sturdy and powerful weapons. Receiving a gift, he’s quite humble about it and accepts it, unless it’s from Sera. His favorite gift, though, would have to be receiving a weapon made just for him, a new cloak, or even a box of baked goods from home. If romanced, he’d either still get them a weapon but with etching on it saying “Andraste’s Blessed” or he would get them something so simple, yet so meaningful such as a piece of necklace with a small chess piece tied to it. He's such a mess if you get him anything, keeping it with him or putting it somewhere he can see at all times.

Josephine

 She tries to get everyone such fine gifts: cloaks, clothes, candies, and cakes. She tries to make the gifts perfect for everyone. When receiving a gift, she absolutely adores it, complimenting details and designs, thanking her friend over and over again. Her favorite gifts are new parchment, quills, ink, a new writing stand, and the little cakes from that one shop, oh dear she really should write a ‘thank you’ note to them- If romanced, her gift is all she can talk about for the rest of the day, or if she can’t talk about it, admiring it. She also gets her love their own signet ring and tickets to the opera, "since you loved it so much last time!"

Leliana

Oh she knows EXACTLY what everyone wants, you can bet on it. She knows what everyone is getting and for who and if there is something in particular they want. Even if it’s impossible to get, she finds a way, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t add her own little touch to it, a simple Inquisition emblem for each of her closest allies and friends or even a feather tied to it. Get this woman shoes. Honeyed wine is also a plus. Hums in delight with each gift, thanking everyone, including Cole as she opens a box with a nug in it. 

Vivienne

She does what she believes is a service to the inquisition by giving everyone an outfit that actually looks presentable. If not an outfit, at least a specifically made piece of jewelry for everyone. Get her anything exquisite and she’ll be pleased. Of course, you get her something so simple as a tome of magic, she’ll be delighted and gushing over it.  

Varric

Most of his gifts are jokes. Bull gets a shirt the size of his man boob upper peck, Solas gets a paper smiley face, Cassandra gets ANOTHER fully edited chapter of Swords & Shields, etc. It’s people’s expressions that are the best gift he could receive, he says. If you wanted to get him a gift, look no further than giving him a joke right back. Seriously though, he does appreciate those, along with some new improvements for Bianca, a new coat, or even new boots. He’s a simple man with simple needs.

Cole

Four words: Get. This. Boy. Puzzles. Really, anything is fascinating, but puzzles just seem to keep his attention, to a point where he’ll have other people do it but listen to how they solve it. As for giving gifts, it’s...questionable. Varric is wondering why his son his boy Cole gave him a candy wrapper until he explains that he heard Varric say he needed help ‘wrapping up’ his story and Dorian is trying to contain his laughter when he connects the dots between him having said that he was quite ‘cheesy’ to the cheese Cole left him. 

Solas

Sweet and simple, a small charm that he made to keep people safe. Everyone (including Sera, Dorian, and Vivienne) has a special one made specifically for them, some for magic, some for strength, and some for protection. Politely declines most gifts as he didn’t really request anything, but for some he does keep, such as books from Josephine and a new staff from the Inquisitor. He might have not asked for anything but it doesn’t mean he didn’t want anything. Painting supplies and some old artifacts are enough to have this old man grinning from ear to ear. Especially given to him by his Vhenan, he would be so joyous over such little things and a little surprised over how well his love knows him. You have no idea where he kinds an old ancient piece of elven jewelry that he gives to you as a gift, but he’s very excited to explain to you it’s value and the history behind it.

Cassandra

Someone help her, please. She doesn’t know what to get anyone or what anyone likes. In the end, she settles on just getting everyone war horns. Some appreciate the thought, some are never able to find them after receiving them, and others have theirs taken away immediately because they won’t stop blowing them at midnight cough SERA cough. For gifts, if you want to make this woman happy, just get her some new armor or even a better fitting sword. Romancing her, she actually tries to find something meaningful for you, such as a shield with your emblem on it, sturdier than any you’ve ever used even if you don’t use a shield. You have also come to learn that if you want to steal this woman’s heart, just get her romance novels and poetry.

Iron Bull

Ale. Beer. Alcohol. That’s his gift to everyone. There’s nothing more to say, he just gets every alcohol and then challenges them to a drinking contest. He’s happy to receive armor, weapons, potions as gifts, you know the usual stuff, other than the shirt Varric gives him. Romanced, whatever you give him, he holds it in high honor. A dagger? He’ll use it for everything. A new eye patch? He wears it all the time, barely ever wearing his old one. Armor made from dragon scales? Everyone is surprised to see him trying to keep it clean. As for giving, you have two options. One, he gives you his old eyepatch along with a dragon’s horn, saying he “has his eye on you.” Your other gift is rope, to which he hints at making you his gift later.

Dorian

He’s never really had many people other than his family that he could give gifts to, nor did he want to give gifts that said “I’m doing this because I have to.” So he went with gifts that said “I tolerate you” such as rings that he enchanted himself to help them in battles to come. He would never admit it, but it did bring him some joy to get gifts that weren’t just clothes and jewelry like he usually got. Instead, he took it in stride with everything he received, even the box that had an angry buzzing emitting from it from Sera, her only response being “Throw it downstairs when Egg is being annoying.” If in a romance, he frets over what to get you. Nothing too gaudy but also nothing too simple, he wants you to know that he cares but not make it overwhelming. He finally settled on giving you his family amulet. He jokes about you returning it in disdain but is actually really pleased when you keep it. That said, he’s only very excited when he finds out that you got him several books of rarity that delve deeper into magical studies.

Sera

Those who accept her gifts take it with caution. Most of the time it’s harmless jokes, others it’s close to almost getting hurt The bees, they’re everywhere. You don’t even have to look far for a present for her. Hell, send her a bucket and she’ll think it’s the best thing in the world before filling it and placing it over a door. In a relationship, it’s still all jokes. She gets you a crude model of Corypheus’s head with a dumb expression or her own artistic rendition of her naked body. Anything you get her that is meant to be sentimental rather than joking, she’s all “Pfft, you’re such a lovey-dovey person. You’re gonna make me puke, Inky!” When in reality, she loves it and keeps it on her at all times.

Blackwall (Thom Rainer)

You bet your ass that he made little wooden carvings for everyone. Leliana receives a raven, Solas receives a halla, etc. He doesn’t deny any gits, but does mention quite a few times how he really doesn’t need anything. Doesn’t stop people from getting him new Grey Warden armor or even some weapons. When romanced, he makes sure to add even more detail to the carving he makes for you, little things that only you and he can recognize, such as how he drew a little griffon on the bottom or how he painted it your favorite color. You can see the twinkle in his eye when he sees that you got him some new wood carving tools and/or his own personnel Grey Warden emblem.

[lovecanbesostrange]

It started with an ask on konako’s blog, that led to a small scene with Red kneeling before the Evil Queen. (x) That was almost Red Queen fun. But it spun into something very dark, because the Evil Queen did capture Red and torture as punishment followed (this goes into dead-dove territory, you are warned, it’s messed up). Here are 4k words of what happened in the palace dungeon afterwards (spoiler alert, excessive use of silver):

summary: Red made the Evil Queen look foolish and gets utterly destroyed for it (graphic depictions of violence included)

Finally a little triumph. The Evil Queen went down the stairs into the dungeon. Every step of her well-shined heeled boots echoed loudly from the stone steps. Sometimes she wished she had more patience to make good use of the cells down here. But she was bored too easily not getting answers and the prisoners died quickly. Her torturer barely had anything to do. Why did she even pay him anymore? (Did she pay anyone in the palace? They were allowed to live and had nice enough accommodations and food, for sure that was enough.)

But now Regina wanted to take all the time in the world. Her knights had captured that wolf woman! After the bloodbath she had caused weeks ago that made Regina look foolish, she would enjoy their time together now. And it would send Snow White a message in the end.

Two guards were posted outside the cell and two inside. Of course knowing they dealt with a werewolf made handling the prisoner easier. For one the full moon was a couple of nights away. And silver was easy to come by to keep her in line. Regina had also instructed her blacksmith to forge some chains in preparation for when she would be captured. It had been a priority task.

When Regina entered the cell she smiled and took in the sight. Red was chained up in the middle of the room. She was stripped down to her undergarments, her clothes on the floor, except for her cloak that was draped over one of the tables. Her arms were raised above her head, wrists bound by the heavy cuffs each connected to a chain going through a loop in the ceiling and then stretching all the way to a bolt in the wall. Her ankles were cuffed as well, a short heavy chain in between so she couldn’t take any significant steps. Not that she could run away, since her toes barely reached the ground. Red had to carry her weight in her arms, shoulders.

“Well, well, well, so we meet again.” Regina took her time to enter and circled Red, who tried to follow her with her eyes. “You made quite a spectacle the last time.”

“Do you want an apology?” Red’s voice was firm. Too firm for Regina’s taste.

“I don’t think you could muster up an honest one. You’re a deceiver.” Regina stopped in front of her. “Begging for those peasants’ lives and then killing my men.” She grabbed Red’s chin with her thumb and index finger. “You said there was no need for bloodshed and you happily slaid them anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t tried to take me.”

“As if you thought I would let you walk away from there.” Regina looked closely into those green eyes. Was the bravado real or just posturing? “Don’t get me wrong, the way you killed those men without a second thought was impressive. I can admire that. But the humiliation it would have been to return to the village and enact punishment, admitting to being defeated that day - I can’t let that slide.” She slapped Red across the cheek.

Red closed her eyes and didn’t turn her face back up. She was glad the villagers had been spared. Regina didn’t know how long she had stuck around to make sure there was no retaliation. And whatever was about to follow, would have been worth it. Snow had her plans to strike and they were close to luring the Queen into a trap. But every day more innocent people could die and Red could not sit by. She owed it to the victims of the wolf to use her strength for good now.

She heard Regina take a few steps back and looked again. The cloak was in her hands now. “Do you have any other name or should I just call you Red. Not very original, is it? Naming yourself after a bit of fabric.” Her fingers traced the patterns. “I sense magic in this. But I guess asking about it will not bring me answers, right? Just like any of Snow White’s plans won’t leave your lips.”

Statements. The Evil Queen had made up her mind already, questions weren’t part of whatever this encounter was. Red turned her hands around and tried to get a grip on the chain, change her position the slightest bit to take some strain off of her already burning shoulders.

“Do you know there isn’t much to find in books about your kind?” Regina exchanged the cloak for something else from the table. It reflected a bit of the amber light emitted from the fireplace and Red could see it was a simple dagger. “The one thing that is said over and over though is your weakness towards silver. I’m curious. Is it just the metal or wounds inflicted by it?”

Red already clenched her jaw before Regina put the blade against the skin on her upper arm, preparing to get cut. But instead Regina pressed the flat side on her skin first. Definitely silver. Pure. Red felt the effect in a matter of seconds and bit down, grinding her teeth.

Regina stood close again, caught her eyes with her gaze and kept pressing the blade against the tender side of her arm. “Don’t worry, I will write down everything I’m about to do here, so the books can add a chapter about how to break a wolf when in their human form.” And with that she turned the dagger and cut the skin. Red flinched, more from the shock than the actual pain. It was a relief actually to have the silver leave her.

“Are there noteworthy differences between a cut with this,” Regina lifted the dagger, “and a normal blade?” She gestured towards one of the guards and he immediately unsheathed a dagger from his boot. Without hesitation Regina reproduced the cut on the other arm. The blood almost tickled as it ran down. “Oh no, I’m making a mess. Getting blood out of clothes is such a hassle.”

Regina let one of the daggers fall down and with the other cut along the seams of Red’s top half of what she was left wearing. Red closed her eyes again as she felt air hit her exposed body. She knew which weapon Regina held and she could feel the silver being drawn over her skin, over her collarbone, between her breasts, down to her navel. The point barely left a scratch, but the offending metal felt like being brushed with a nettle. Red took in deep, sharp breaths through her nose.

That reaction was exactly what made Regina go slower with her movements. It wasn’t the sharpness that left the light red mark, no, it appeared the longer she held the blade in place. What an interesting sight to watch. Regina brought her free hand up to Red’s chin again, this time squeezing her jaw with her palm, digging her fingers into her cheek. Red looked at her again.

“You know, the longer you resist, the more adamant I will be to make you scream. That is how these things work.” She brought the dagger up to Red’s forehead, this time with the edge to cut into her skin again. It took a few seconds, but then the blood running over her eyebrows made Red blink.

“Can you hold this for me?” With that she wedged the silver dagger between the torn clothes and Red’s hips. Red squirmed trying to get away, but the blade touched her thigh ever so slightly. “I learned a valuable lesson the other day. A blacksmith works with iron. Like those chains holding you. Not used to working with silver. You would have to ask a silversmith about it. I even found one and he is working on special silver cuffs for me. Or rather, for you.”

Regina stood at the table again, her back to Red. When she turned around she held up a necklace. “So for now, I have to settle for delicate jewelry instead of the collar you deserve.” Under any other circumstance Red would have admired the piece. Obviously the star-shaped ornament was meant to hold a gemstone in place, a diamond or a sapphire, but this was stripped down to the silver components for one purpose only. “So you will get used to a leash later,” was all Regina added as she put it around Red’s neck.

Red held on. Her skin was crawling all over, the itch on her thigh burning already, but she tried to stay as still as possible. She couldn’t do anything against the tears forming in her eyes, betraying her brave face though.

Regina stood before her, brows furrowed. “Your healing isn’t as fast. I will need to wait hours to compare those cuts on your arms. There is something I am forgetting.” She rubbed her temples, feigning to think. “Oh, of course, I need a point of reference!” A clap of her hands alerted the guard. “You, get the girl from next door.” Red’s eyes went wide.

“No. Wait. You don’t need to drag anybody else into this.”

Regina stepped closer and slapped her across the cheek again, harder this time. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion and you will stop being so informal around me!”

“Yes, Your Majesty”, Red quickly gathered herself. “But please, there is no need-” But she already saw a frightened young girl being pushed into the cell. About her height and weight, seemingly healthy. For now. The girl fell to the floor and cowered there.

“I caught her stealing, so normally she would already be dead. But she can be of use for me.” Regina put a hand into her hair and yanked her head up, to make her look at Red. “Or do you want her dead right now?”

The terror Red felt was mirrored on the girl’s face. Was there a chance of survival for her? She was ready to beg for her life; to lie on that table where Regina obviously had more silver tools; to take any punishment herself. “No,” Red whispered. Another yank at the girl’s hair. “No, Your Majesty.”

“A fast learner.” She pushed the girl into a chair with cuffs on the armrests. Seating her in front of Red. The girl trembled and looked to the floor. Red tried to pull at her chains, but it only sent a jolt of pain through her shoulders.

Regina paced the room. After a while she came up behind Red. “Your shoulders must really hurt by now. Let me help you with that.” Her fingers played with the necklace and Red hissed. Shifting it around made the pain more noticeable. “The plate.” She said towards the guards. Behind Red a wooden plate leaned against the wall. A thin metal sheet on one side, coated in silver. She knew that before the guards shoved it under her feet. The wood added a few inches so in theory this took some of the weight off her shoulders, but the soles of her feet would soon itch, turn red, swell, hurt and most likely blister. She tried to balance on the outside of her feet only, to not hurt everywhere all at once.

“Do you know what the second thing is that some texts suggest to use against a werewolf?” Silence. “Oh, that was a genuine question directed at you. Do you know?”

“Fire.” Red answered between breaths. Her mouth was open now, it was dry. She didn’t dare to fully fill her lungs, because that made the necklace move. The attack on multiple parts of her body with the silver was starting to overwhelm her.

“That is correct. You know your weaknesses it seems.” Regina conjured a fireball in her hand. “Fire is pure. It doesn’t discriminate. It can be very elegant.” She stepped closer to Red, hand outstretched so she could feel the heat of the flame. “How fast can you heal a burn wound?”

“I don’t k-” Red couldn’t finish that sentence, because Regina held her hand to her side now. A scream was all that escaped her lips. The fireball wasn’t cast, but the flame burned her flesh. Red clenched her fists and tried to step away, the chains around her ankles making a screeching sound dragging over the silver plate. There was no escape, because Regina just followed with her hand. She closed her hand and the fireball vanished. Red went slack, her breathing sped up. The only good thing was that in this commotion, the dagger had gotten loose and fallen to the floor.

Red sorted out her senses, trying to gather her bearings, when she heard the girl scream. Louder, more fearful, indicating the horrible pain she never felt before. Regina had torn her clothes and burned her at the exact same place on her body. For reference. Red couldn’t put the horror of it into words. Would it indeed be better for the girl if she was dead already? She didn’t even know her name.

And Red didn’t learn her name over the next few days, because whatever happened, she would not talk to her. Regina had strictly forbidden it and the rotating guards would hit her at a single word. It was almost comical. Red’s body went numb. Cuts, rashes, bruises, welts, burns, scratches. It came and went. The pain was a constant throbbing, she got repositioned a few times, but it felt like she would never use her arms on her own accord again. But whatever happened to her, the girl looked worse. Red did heal faster from any wound not dealt with silver. But it did take a lot from her regardless. She lost track of time. What was sleep? Any kind of shame about being naked had vanished. Instead of clothes her body was covered in forming scars, marks and blemishes.

Red tried to count the rotations of the guards, to get any kind of feeling for the passing days. It was only days, right? It felt like forever. Silver on her skin somewhere at all times, lashes from a whip, getting burned with a torch, red hot iron, and so many cuts to make her bleed. The worst still a long deep wound on her right cheek, starting at her ear right to the corner of her mouth. When they allowed her some water, it even hurt to swallow.

Later Red found out it had been five days in total. It seemed like a small window of time. But the Evil Queen lived up to her name. Especially on day four, when she left permanent damage. While Red was mostly kept standing up, the girl was strapped to the chair. Not that she had any energy left to walk out of here, even if they’d opened the door for her. Regina stood behind her and pulled her head back.

“Just look at me, I’m sure this won’t hurt you.”

Red looked on as Regina dripped liquid into one of her eyes. The girl flinched, but that was a reflex. None of her sounds of discomfort or pain left her throat. That made Red more nervous than she would admit. And she was right to be.

“Just as I thought. Look at that, barely irritated.” She pushed the girl’s head forward, her eye teared up, maybe a bit reddened.

Regina walked around her and caught Red’s gaze. “Such beautiful green eyes. Quiet unusual. Of course not as remarkable as the wolfish gold, is it?” The way she kept staring was unnerving and Red’s breathing already picked up. Fear. In a short amount of time she had learned what fear truly was.

“Hold her steady.” A guard came and grabbed Red’s head from behind. Panic sunk in and she started to squirm, tried to turn her face away, to wiggle out of his grip. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she knew she wanted out. Right now. No more pain, she couldn’t take anymore. But she had to.

Regina got a few drops out of the vile, into Red’s right eye. “Don’t worry, it’s mostly water. Just a tiny bit of silver dust mixed into it.”

Red pushed her body back as hard as she could, but her mangled feet had no grip, it was more like leaning into the guy. No force to get him off. And then the pain started. It felt like a needle prick. And all of a sudden the colors exploded in Red’s sight. Everything was sharper, the light from the fireplace brighter. She knew her eyes turned golden like before she would transform. It had happened a few times, when highly agitated. Now it was a physical response.

Regina laughed. “I did not expect that.” She met Red’s terror with fascination. More needle pricks in her eye, the urge to rub it away. Red pulled at her chains, she wanted to press the palm of her hand against her eye and get the irritating feeling out. But there was no chance. All Regina saw was the golden color and Red gasping for air, holding back a scream. The hitched breathing was a good enough tell that this hurt.

Worse than the pain that kept sinking in was the way Red started to see white dots, blind specks in her vision. Three, four, five, more and more. She blinked, her tearducts fighting off the intrusion, but the silver too strong an opponent. Red clenched her jaw and groaned. She let out a growl from deep within, filled with frustration and pain. It was more of a bellow than a scream. Regina smiled at that.

While Red’s left eye got back to its human green, the right eye stayed golden, a misty layer clouding the bright hue. It drew Regina’s full attention, while it would be weeks for Red to discover the permanent change. Blinded, only noting a change between light and darkness. Her eyeball feeling like it was rubbed with sandpaper made the rest of the day seem like nothing. Time moved on

And then unthinkable happened. The chains were loosened completely, the cuffs came off. Red tried to curl up on the floor, but she could barely move her joints. Everything hurt too much. But Regina laughed. “Remember that I said I will make you beg for more than mercy? How about you ask me to end her suffering?”

Red looked up. Trying to adjust to the impaired vision. As bad as she felt, the girl looked worse. “Please…”, the girl said and the guard standing behind her, hit her against the head immediately.

It took everything Red had to turn herself upright, to bend her knees and sit on them. To kneel before Regina again. No side eye, no hint of a smirk, no failsafe. The burn marks hurt worst next to the chafed skin around her neck from the necklace that was also gone now. “Your…” Red was shaking, she had to cough trying to speak. “Please, Your Majesty. End her suffering. I beg you. Please. It’s enough… enough…” And with that she fell down again.

“Pathetic.” Regina’s verdict was cold as ice. “And to think I had a gift for you just now. Guards.” They stood next to Red and pulled her to her knees again, held her up. Regina leaned towards her. “My silversmith has arrived.” She produced a silver object and only when the lock clicked around her neck did Red realize this was the collar she had talked about. She felt the burn on her throat and winced. It was a sound she was used to producing by now.

“So?”

“Please… Your Majesty…” Red was panting, she could not finish the plea.

Regina rolled her eyes. “If this is the best you can do, so be it. Ending the suffering now.” And with that her hand shot straight into Red’s chest and pulled out her heart. “Kill her. Rip her throat out like you always do.”

Red wanted to scream. She wanted to jump the Evil Queen. To tear up the men holding her. But what she wanted was irrelevant all of a sudden. The will to do it was overwritten. She looked at the girl, defeated, not even surprised. While Red’s mind fully woke up for the first time in days, all her muscles reacted to something else. The pain all over her body was terrible, but every second she didn’t comply was even more agony.

Red crawled more than she walked to get to the chair. She hovered over her nameless victim, tried to hold back, but those terror-stricken eyes met hers. “Make it quick, please.” Oh, if only she could turn into a wolf, those sharp teeth would take less than a second. Regina had specified how this girl was supposed to die and Red could not opt to cut her throat with a knife, she sunk her still very human teeth into it. The larynx, so easy to wrap fangs around, was hard, the skin and flesh thick. The scream the girl let out was only short, because the pressure suffocated her. It was impossible to make this quick-

Finally Red tasted blood. Tears ran down her face, but she could not stop herself from this horrible act. This slow, agonizing, inhumane death of a nameless chamber maid, who probably hadn’t even stolen a thing. Someone at the wrong place, at the wrong time, who had suffered for days for cruel experiments with no merit. One more victim added to Red’s tally. Not for good. Not in battle. Not in defense. Needless cruelty.

When the girl’s heart stopped, Red finally could let go. She sank on all fours, spat out what she could of the blood and wailed. Her own heart wasn’t even in her chest, but it had never felt heavier.

“Get the smith down here now, he knows what to do.” Regina sent one guard away. Red looked up, warm blood dripping from her chin, she could feel it. Disgusting. If she had any strength left, this would be the time to strike. But all Regina needed to do was a little squeeze. Her heart hurt. No, Red was helpless. Any thought of fighting back an illusion.

“I think it’s best that you lie down on the table for this next part.”

Red wanted to put her head under a guillotine right now. To kill like that was worse than any of the torture methods the Evil Queen had come up with. Regina had won. But Red couldn’t do anything but comply and lied down, waiting for her fate.

It came in the form of a small white haired man, holding a sort of chalice with a long tongue. His hands were shaking and Red couldn’t tell if it was because of what he was doing or just being in Regina’s presence. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening. A guard came and put her wrists into the handcuffs again, strapping her to the table. A chain going over her thighs and under the table fixated her.

Regina squatted down next to her, stroking her hair. “Feel free to scream for me now.”

“The mold.” Wood was pressed against her back. “Careful with your fingers there, wouldn’t want to burn you.”

And then everything was fire. The scream from Red’s throat surprised Regina enough that she stood up. Loud, agonizing, on the brink of collapse. What looked like a chalice was a melting pot, containing a few grams of molten silver. It was poured on Red’s skin and burned her instantly, severely. Water followed mere seconds later to turn the liquid back to solid, but the damage was done. A silver ring fused into her flesh. The pain and the sensory overload from heat to cold send her into shock. She was still screaming with the taste of warm blood in her mouth when the faint claimed her.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Hi! I saw that you might be interested in writing fics about Sigyn x Loki and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do this because it is a little angsty and doesn’t really fit your description of what she was doing during Thor but could you maybe write something where Sigyn dies somehow a little before the events of Thor happened and Sigyn’d death was what lead Loki to do New York. And maybe he was pardoned and joined the avengers and they notice that Loki wears a ring and they start getting really curious. Maybe they ask him or Thor about the ring and find out about Sigyn. I know it doesn’t really fit what your version of Sigyn was doing during Thor but I would really like to see how you write this.

A/N: You’re right, this isn’t how I picture Sigyn in the MCU. I want her to be a more active character and really don’t like fridging my ladies if I can help it. That all being said, it’s a fun thought experiment.  Consider this just an AU where Sigyn dies.

Also, this kinda turned into a thing, so enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3K

The transition was gradual, to say the least. Nobody really trusted Loki, apart form Thor. But then again, Thor would trust a rabid dog not to bite him if it asked nicely enough.

He had vouched for his brother’s changed ways and Loki himself hadn’t done anything directly to contradict Thor’s word. Plus, it was hard for them to deny how he had come to the rescue on their behalf and the world at large.

Still, there was an unspoken understanding to stay out of each other’s way. Only occasionally did Loki interact with the rest of the team outside of missions and even then it was mildly antagonistic, like a little kid looking for attention from their siblings.

Eventually, it just got comfortable, for lack of a better word.  They’re weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies either and that seemed to be enough.

So perhaps it wasn’t a surprise it took them almost six months to notice the ring.

Natasha was the first to catch it.

She stood on the edge of the mat, watching Loki spar with his brother. 

It was just a casual observation.  She spent most of the match counting how many times one of them missed a weak spot of the other. Finally, Loki took the advantage and managed to disarm his brother, but not before something fell out of his shirt; a silver chain with a solitary gold ring dangling from the end of it.

Natasha frowned, her eyes focusing on the tiny object. It was just a simple band, no jewels or markings from what she could see. The only thing which struck her as odd was the size.  It was much too small for the likes of Loki.

Her eyes darted to the man in question, who stared back at her with a guarded expression.

Without a word he helped his brother to his feet, and tucked the necklace away.

He wasn’t telling and she wasn’t asking.

The next was Steve.

He couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t so unusual.  Even before he went into the ice he wasn’t much of a sleeper.  The scientist who worked on him said it had something to do with the serum. He just didn’t require as much sleep as the average person.

On nights like these he found himself wandering, allowing his thoughts to shuffle lightly in and out as he feet carried him where they liked. It therefor came as a surprise when he noticed one of the lights in the kitchen turned on and a single figure sitting at the island.

Steve stayed in the shadows, watching with suspicion and curiosity.

Loki did not seem to know he was there.  A long forgotten mug of something sat on the surface beside him.  His eyes were only for the ring between his fingers.

Steve stiffened waiting for something, anything to happen.  Knowing Loki it was a magic ring of some kind.  Perhaps he was working out a kind of spell or curse.  But, the longer Steve waited, the more he realized nothing was going to happen.

His eyes then turned away from the ring at to the man holding them.  His heart twisted.

Sorrow permeated Loki’s features, and the resignation that it was all there would ever be.

Steve knew that look.  He had worn it often enough on sleepless nights.

“Do you require something, Captain?” Loki said, turning his head up to meet his gaze.

Steve immediately stiffened, automatically preparing himself for a fight.

“No, just getting some air. What are you doing up?”

“The same as you,” he said, smoothly.  “Just getting some air.”

It was obvious neither bought what the other was selling, but it was also obvious neither were in a position to ask any further questions.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” He turned to leave, but found himself pausing before he could stop himself.  The familiar ache was back in his gut.  It was what had woken him up and it was back with a vengeance, recognizing it’s own pain in another.

“I’m sorry,” he said, before he could stop himself.

Loki’s gaze darkened, but still his grip on the ring remained ever gentle.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I think you do.  And I’m sorry.”

The other man remained silence, but gave a small nod.

Steve took it as his leave to go and walked away.  It wasn’t his place to ask and so he wouldn’t.

It was Clint who finally got it out of him.

He never trusted Loki, for obvious reasons.  The rest of the team might have been able to buy the changed man act, but none of them had had their mind permanently screwed with like his had. He played nice while on missions, but was soon as they were off the Quinjet, he kept as far away from Loki as possible.

So, when Natasha told him about the ring, he was more than a little suspicious.

There had to be something about the ring.  It had to be a talisman Loki could use to trick them.  Maybe it turned him invisible or he used in for illusions or whatever magic crap he called it.

Clint started to keep his eye out.

Once he was looking for it, it was obvious Loki took it wherever they went.  It was always tucked away, buried under clothes and armor.  Even when they were back at the compound, Loki never let it leave his body.

Once in a while, he’d catch Loki running the metal between his fingers in thought, followed almost always by some sort of interjection about whatever mission was at hand and how to improve it.

He had to begrudgingly agree that most of Loki's suggestions were decent ones.  Maybe the ring gave him a type of insight; seeing into the future perhaps? 

Either way, his suspicion was growing stronger everyday.  There had to be someway to figure out what it was. 

It took about a month for him to get his chance.

Loki always kept the ring on while he was around other people; however, he wasn’t so careful while he was alone. Through some carefully place cameras, Clint discovered he did slip it off before going to sleep and whenever he went into the shower. 

Sneaking in when he was sleeping was out.  Clint observed easily enough the man was a light sleeper.  Even with all his training, he doubt he could come up with a decent excuse if he got caught, which only left one other option.

He waited until the end of a particularly grueling mission.  Everybody was exhausted and a hot shower seemed like heaven, just the opportunity he needed. 

Clint followed Loki to his room.  He didn’t enter until he heard the water running.  After that, it was easy enough.  In a flash he was in and out, holding the cool metal between his fingers and booking it to the lab.

A part of him felt childish. It was more like stealing a few bucks out of his brother’s wallet, rather than a high stake’s espionage to reveal a traitor.  Desperate times, he guessed. 

Just his luck, Tony and Bruce were already tinkering away when he burst in.

“How quickly can you guys analyze this,” he said through panting breath.

The two scientist looked up in confusion.

“Somebody sell you a knock off ring?” Tony said, dryly.

Clint shook his head, not having time for jokes.  “It’s Loki’s.”

That got their attention.

“What does it do?”

“How’d you get it?”

“I don’t know and it doesn’t matter.  We have maybe ten minutes before he realizes it’s gone.”

Bruce shot Tony a skeptical look, but Tony ignored it.

“Let’s see it.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Clint handed it over.

“I’ll get a sample and see what it’s made out of. If there’s anything not of Earth we’ll find it.  Bruce?”

Banner gave a reluctant sigh.  “I can check for energy readings.  If it’s anything like Thor’s hammer, something might turn up.  But, I honestly not sure what I’m looking for. You never said was Loki was using it for.”

Clint shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I just know he won’t go anywhere without it and he keeps it out of sight as best he can.  Nat only spotted it on accident and apparently he gave her this really weird look.”

“Weird how?”

“Just weird, like she saw something she shouldn’t.”

“Good enough for me,” Tony said, already placing the ring under a microscope. “Ten minutes you said?”

“Eight now.”

“Let’s get to work.”

Two minutes in Tony discovered the ring was mostly gold.  There were trace amounts copper and nickle, but only enough to keep the metal from being malleable.  Really, it wasn’t anything one wouldn’t find at a local jewelry store. 

Bruce meanwhile, found nothing.  No radiation, no magnetic field, no anything to indicate it wasn’t just a completely normal ring.

Clint ran his hand through his hair in agitation; they had three minutes at most.

“There has to be something!”

“I’m telling you there isn’t,” Bruce insisted.

“It can’t be, why else would he have it?”

“Sentimental reasons? Maybe it’s his mother’s.”

Clint scoffed, but a nagging sense of doubt crept into his gut. “No.  You missed something.  Tony?”

“Not much, just that it’s stronger than it should be.”

Clint perked up at this. “How do you mean?”

“I mean there isn’t a scratch on it. If it has the amount of gold the computer says it does it should have some kind of wear on it, but nothing.  It’s perfectly preserved.”

Clint turned to Bruce.  “See, that’s weird right?”

Bruce rubbed his hand behind his neck.  “It is a little weird, but let’s not forget Loki isn’t exactly a local.”

“You’re defending him?” Tony accused.

“I’m not saying that.  I’m just saying we have to look at all the options.”

Clint opened his mouth to protest, when the doors slammed open behind him. 

They were out of time.

“Stark,” Loki snapped. “I want a look at those cameras you–”

He stopped, physically halting in his place as he eyes quickly shot to the ring on the table.

His expression remained cool, but Clint was just able to catch look of panic flash across his features. 

“Ah, there it is,” he said, smoothly.  “I’ll take that back now, if you don’t mind.”

He made a move toward it, but Tony was faster.

“You were looking for this,” he questioned.

Loki’s eyes narrowed.  “Yes.  I had misplaced it, but now that it’s found, I would like it back.”

“This is yours then?”

“Of course it’s mine.”

Tony nodded, giving a “what do you know about that” expression.

Clint straightened.  He could feel the tension rising between the two men.  Something was going to happen, he just had to be ready for the signal.

He was so focused on the scene in front of him, he failed to notice Bruce sneak carefully out of the room.

“It’s an interesting ring,” Tony said.  “Sturdy.”

“Indeed,” Loki said.  His mask was slipping, the frustration slowly melting it off his skin.

“I’m curious," Tony continued, "what exactly is so special about it? I’ve been running every test I can think of and nothing’s wrong with it.  Absolutely nothing.  It’s literally, the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen.” He took a pause, casually glancing in Clint’s direction.  “Might want to step back from that Barton, highly corrosive.”

Clint looked behind him to see a full beaker of bubbling liquid behind him.  Holding back a smile, he instantly understood.

“That’s all very well,” Loki said. “But it does not stop it from being mine.” He held out his hand.  “Return it to me, now.”

Tony smirked.  “Think fast.”

In a second, the ring was in the air, not towards Loki, but right for Clint.

He caught it mid-air, just in time for Loki to pivot towards him with murder in his eyes.

Clint didn’t hesitate.  Spinning around, he held the ring over the beaker silently daring the so called “god” to move.

Loki stayed in place, even as he vibrated with rage.

“Careful with that,” he warned, his voice sharp and cold as a knife.

“What is it, then?” Clint challenged.

“It’s a ring. Nothing more.”

“Really? Then I don’t see what I can’t just…” The chain slipped between his fingers.

“Don’t!” Loki snapped.

Clint caught it.  The ring remained intact, swinging dangerously close to it's demise.

Loki visibly sighed in relief, but something in his eye gave Clint pause.  It wasn’t just anger or even fear, it was pain.

He pressed his lips together, his mind whirling with what it could possibly mean.

“Why do you care about this?” Clint asked, again.

Loki’s eyes never left the glinting metal, as he shook his head.  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.  Clearly you’ve already convinced yourself it serves some nefarious purpose.  You will not accept anything short of that explanation.”

“Give me a better one then.”

Loki lip twisted.  “I think not.  You see Agent Barton, I believe it’s perfectly within my power to take my ring back from you. The only choice you have is whether you want to keep it or your hand.”

With a flick of his wrist, a knife appeared in each of his hands, glinting sharp and ready.

“What is going on?” Thor’s voice echoed in the small room.

On instinct Clint turned his eyes away from Loki.

It happened in an instant. The sting of the cut. The cool metal slipping between his fingers.  A blast from the corner of the room. A brush of air. And a knife embedded in the wall behind, with the small chain dangling from the hilt.

Clint turned to see Loki thrown across the room.  Tony’s now armored arm was still raised, and ready for another attack.

Looking down at his own hand, Clint could see a trail of blood sliced across the back.

“What the hell?!” he snapped.

Loki struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support.  His brother was at his side in an instant.  Bruce stepped in the middle of it all, his arms spread wide.

“Everybody, calm down,” he said.  “Let’s not make this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“You’re seriously showing your belly, now?” Tony accused.

“Take it more like a warning growl,” Bruce countered. 

The threat was obvious, making Tony visibly shocked.  He backed down, lowering his arm.

Thor supported Loki, bringing him fully to his feet.

“I’ll ask again, what is going on?” Thor said, will all the authority a prince of Asgard could muster.

“Just a little disagreement over stolen property,” Loki said, smoothly. 

Thor’s eyes went to the necklace still swinging against the other wall. The anger on his features nearly matched Loki’s.

“Stark?”

“Me,” Barton interjected.  “I wanted to know what Loki was hiding.  From the length he’s willing to go to to get it back, it must be something.”

Thor shook his head.  “Do you have any idea what you might have done?”

“No, that’s kind of the point,” Tony said.  “What is it, the One Ring or something?”

“It’s a personal matter,” Loki said.

“No good enough.”

“Clint, drop it,” Bruce snapped.

“No! What is it? What the hell can be so important that you’re willing to finally drop your changed man act to get it back?!”

Thor let out a long sigh. “Barton, you can not–”

“Enough, brother,” Loki cut in. “You wanted a story Agent Barton? I’ll tell you one.

“Once upon a time in a land far away, there lived a prince.  Second born of his family, he grew accustomed to being looked over by others; his subject, his friends, even his father would easily pass him over."

"Does this have a point?" Clint interrupted.

Loki said nothing. 

Clint's frown deepened, but it was obvious there was no other way he was going to get an answer out of the would be king.  So, he kept his mouth shut, until Loki started again.

"The prince grew resentful, turning deeper and deeper into himself. It came to the point where nothing else existed, except the darkness.  Until one day, he came upon a maiden practicing spells in a garden."

For the first time in Clint's memory, a soft smile came to Loki's lips.

“She was beautiful and intelligent, and the prince offered to teach the maiden what he knew.  She asked what he wanted in exchange, and the only answer he could give, was her company. And so they practiced and talked, and little by little the darkness around the prince began to fade. He was still second to many, but their opinions no longer mattered.  In the eyes of the maiden, he found light.”

He shook his head.  “The prince was never sure what the maiden saw in him, but it was enough for her to agree to marry him.  He then presented her with a ring.  An ordinary ring to some, far too simple for a soon to be princess, but in it held a spell.  The ring would never fade or tarnish, as long as his love for her survived.”

He blinked, his expression darkening.  “But love cannot protect one from death.  Long after they were married, but not nearly long enough, a plague tore through the kingdom.  It infested every corner from the lowest commoner to highest lord, until finally, it arrived at the palace gates.  The prince’s eldest brother, his mother, and wife all caught the disease. After weeks of uncertainty, it was determined they would pull through, save for one. The maiden, his light, died in his arms while they slept."

Loki paused, swallowing down the emotion clearly rising in his throat.

“The darkness returned with a vengeance, to which the prince succumbed.  He turned against his brother, his father, and everyone else he blamed for his failings. Slowly but surely, he pushed them all away until he found himself falling to an abyss, completely and utterly alone.

"But, that was not the end of the prince’s story.  For you see, the prince was not as alone was he thought.  Another found him, and offered him something he had no had in years; hope.

"He told the prince he sought six stones, that when combined would bend the universe to his will, including bringing back what was long dead."

Loki's eyes grew even more distant, his hand going to his chest, instinctively reaching for a familiar chain.

"He promised the prince he could bring back his light.  All the prince had to do was conquer a single planet. A simple task, the prince thought.  And so he went, ready to burn a world for the chance to see his love again.”

A sardonic smile spread across his face.  “But the prince failed and in his failure, he realized while he might be willing to pay such a price for his love, she would not feel the same.  And so he set to make amends, all the while keeping a symbol of their love close to his heart as a reminder of the light he must always remember is there.”

Loki paused, looking up to his captivated audience. In a room full of people compelled to give the have word, not a sound was uttered.

Maintaining the silence, he walked passed all of them to where his heart hung.  With a small tug, he pulled the knife from the wall, and lay the necklace gently in his open palm.

“Does that answer your questions, Agent Barton?” he asked, taking a moment to run his finger over the flawless gold.

Clint blinked, unsure of what to really say.  He really only had one question left to ask.

“What was her name?”

Loki glanced at him, and for the first time Clint saw him, not as a would be god, but as a man, tired and filled with regret.

“Sigyn.”

[saltymiraculer]

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 2 of 3)

Ahhhhh, thank you for all the support I’ve gotten on this fic! It is with great pleasure I present to you *trumpet noise* Part 2 of Ceremonial Kisses!

I apologize for the huge wait, and I’m really sorry about my update schedule in general. 

Also, you might notice that around the middle of this chapter, the writing gets a little bit choppy, and I’m super sorry about that! My apartment just decided to evict anyone with a cat, and I’m under a lot of stress right now. Thankfully, it gets smoother towards the end!

Happy reading!

Part 1 | Part 3

                                                    -🌸-

After ten minutes of gorging themselves on the Chinese equivalents of Kit-Kats and Lays chips, they pulled up to a hotel.

“Whaf, wewen’t we goih to da cashale?“ Nino asked, his mouth stuffed with cookies. Marinette shot him a disgusted look. He swallowed and took a swig of soda. “Wait, weren’t we going to the castle?“

Marinette had been thinking the same thing. This couldn’t be an ancient Chinese palace–it looked like a hotel!

“My instructions have changed. I was informed you would be staying at the Overseas Suites instead.“ The driver (she still didn’t know his name) said, pulling up to the front of the hotel.

As soon as they stepped out, they remembered that time zones existed.

It was 5:00 PM there.

They were going to be up all night.

The driver handed Marinette a gold-embossed business card with a phone number written on it.

“Call me whenever you need a lift, miss Marinette.“ He stepped back into the car and drove off.

Marinette shrugged and stuffed the card in her pocket. “Well, that was weird. Let’s go inside now, it’s freezing.” 

As soon as they walked inside, Bustier scurried up to them.

“Where were you? You had me worried sick!“

Before anyone could say anything, the chauffeur from earlier appeared.

“I am Marinette’s uncle, ma’am. I heard she was going to be staying in China for a week and I just had to see her. The school was informed that I would be picking her and her friends up.“

“Oh–well–you still should have told me where you were going!“

“But shouldn’t you have already known?“ Marinette asked sweetly. “I mean, you were informed of it, weren’t you?“

Ha. She had her there!

“W-well, yes, technically, I was…but it’s time to go to your rooms! Off you go, everybody!“

“Oh, wait, I’m sharing a room with Marinette, right?“ Alya asked.

“Yeah, I think so.“

“Shit. Guys, I’ve got to share a room with Adrien. Say your prayers, ‘cause I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive.“

Oh, right. I guess it’s time to explain.

Adrien had stayed with his “high road” approach, but not in the way that she had expected. He started treating Lila to lunch, buying her jewelry, asking her to school dances, the whole shebang.

But it was all so forced that nobody believed any of it, and one day, all the ‘affection’ had just stopped.

Lila milked it for all it was worth, blaming Marinette and Nino and Alya, and the president of some far-off African country, and Adrien...

Something changed.

His face was more gaunt and his cheeks were more hollow, and he barely ever talked to anyone, just shrugged them off and turned away.

He was, to put it frankly, terrifying.

Which was not good for Nino at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, class, but Ivan will be sharing a room with Nino. Adrien and Nathaniel will be roommates.“

All three of them heaved a sigh.

“Okay, so I’m sleeping tonight, that’s a plus.“ Nino joked. “What are we doing for dinner?“

“Um, I think Bustier said there was food already in the rooms. There are kitchenettes and, like, boxes of pasta and stuff. The trip was sponsored by–“ Marinette suddenly froze. She was contemplating how to finish her sentence when Alya finished it for her.

“–By your family, right?“

“Yeah. It feels so weird to say that, like–me? A princess? I’d probably trip over my own dress.“

“I know what you mean, girl. Now, let’s go get some food.“

After scurrying back up to their respective rooms and scarfing down some fettuccine, they fell asleep almost immediately, despite it being only about 3:00 in Paris.

Which, in hindsight, was probably why they woke up at two in the morning and started eating Cheerios with chocolate milk.

“Marinette, it’s so early!“ Alya said, stretching her arms towards the ceiling. “What should we do until it’s time for the first tour?“

“Wanna play Uno?“

And play Uno they did, a six-round monstrosity that lasted five hours and many draw-four cards.

There was a knock on the door and they both whipped around. “Girls, are you awake yet?“ a muffled voice asked. “You have to be down in the lobby in ten minutes!”

Alya and Marinette looked at each other. “Shit!” they yelled, jumping up and grabbing clothes out of drawers. They took the elevator down to the lobby after getting dressed, only to face something that made them wish they hadn’t.

Lila.

“And since the princess was so touched by what I did for her, she told me that she’d grant me any favor!“

“So…what was the favor?“ Mylene asked, inching closer.

“I asked her to bring our class on this trip, of course! Because I love my friends–unlike some people.“ She tilted her head in Marinette and Alya’s direction.

“When did you get here? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?“ Kim shouted.

A few of them turned pink and tried to turn away.

“No, but I’m sure we’ll hear plenty of other horrible things about ourselves from you guys on this trip.“ Marinette said.

“Oh, get over yourselves! Lila’s the one who got us here, and she can kick you out just as easily. Right, Lila?“

“Of course! Marinette, I really want to be friends, but after the way you’ve treated everyone, it’s only fair I had to do what I did!“

“Oh? And what exactly did you do?“ Alya challenged, putting her hands on her hips. Alix smirked and nudged Kim with her elbow.

“Let’s just say…some of the tours might not be for you.“ Sabrina interjected, swiping something on a familiar white tablet. Marinette’s eyes widened. “Did you steal Bustier’s tablet just so you could take us off the tours? You risked suspension for that?!”

“Well, Mari-nette, you should be surprised to know that some people are willing to take risks for their friends.“ Kim snapped over his shoulder, earning many a nod from Lila’s entourage.

“Kids!“ Bustier yelled, startling them all. “What are you doing with my tablet?“

“Um–uh_Marinette stole it and threw it to us!“ Lila replied nervously.

Everyone turned to Marinette. “Marinette, I expect better from you! You just earned yourself a week of detention when we get back to Paris.“ She whisked the tablet out of Sabrina’s arms before Marinette could protest, and turned around, taking a deep breath.

When she faced the class again, she had a smile back on her face.

“Okay! Today, we will be touring a replica of one of the ancient Chinese palaces. Please behave yourselves.“

She started walking out, and the class followed her, Alya and Marinette tagging behind. Nino joined them soon after.

“So, that was weird.“

“No kidding.“

Once they had stepped off the bus in front of the palace, everyone stopped. Of course, they had all done a bit of googling about the places they would visit, but seeing everything live and in person was taking it to a whole new level.

“Whoa,“ they whispered. Even Lila, who wanted nothing more than to break something, was dumbfounded by this wonder of architectural beauty.

Miss Bustier was the one to break the silence. Clearing her throat, she said “Well, shall we head inside?”

As they shuffled inside, Marinette secretly wished she had about eight more eyes so she could take in everything she was seeing. But she had to be on high alert, Lila and her crew were sure to pull something nasty.

“Ah, and this,“ Bustier gasped. “This is one of the things I was looking most forward to seeing.

“As you all know, the princess will be coronated soon, and this is exactly why I wanted to take you here. This is a replica of an ancient Chinese coronation hall, isn’t it breathtaking?“

Lila snapped out of her trance and elbowed Kim, whispering something in her ear that made both of them snicker. 

“Hey, Marinette!“ he yelled, running up to her. “What are you doing?“ Marinette watched in horror as he pushed a porcelain vase off of a pedestal, backing away immediately so she was the only one in the area.

Everything seemed to go in slow-motion after that.

Everyone in the room turning to them.

Lila’s grin turning up towards her ears in an almost Grinch-like fashion.

Marinette diving to catch the delicate artifact and balancing it in one hand just before it smashed on the floor.

Security appearing to lecture them.

“Now, miss, what you did was punishable by law,“ one of them said. “And by nature I’ll have to ask you and your whole gang to leave, if you don’t want the royal family to press charges.“

“The-the royal family?“ Lila squeaked. Marinette sighed and stood up.

“I’m sorry, sir,“ she said, hanging her head.

“Wait just a second!“ Someone in the crowd yelled. “That guy in the red hoodie pushed it–I saw it with my own two eyes! The girl saved the vase!“

“Yeah, why don’t you go check the security cameras? I’m sure the girl was the one who stopped it from breaking!“

“No, no, I’m quite sure I saw Marinette push the vase.“ Bustier interrupted. “She’s quite the troublemaker, and it wouldn’t be inconceivable for that to happen.“

“I’m terribly sorry, miss, but only once we review the security footage can we make a decision.“

They left with a promise to return as soon as they were done, and everyone started at Marinette.

Nino was the first to speak.

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up? Marinette didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, Alya didn’t do it. So who did?“

Marinette saw the look on Lila’s face. There was no wriggling out of this one.

“Kim did it! I saw…he tried to warn Marinette about a huge bug, but she had this evil look on her face and moved out of the way…and Kim accidentally pushed the vase.“

“What?! That never happened.“ Nino said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I was there the whole time, and there weren’t any bugs.“ Alya said, leaning against a wall. “Give it up, Lila. The security guys’ll be back in a minute.“

“Actually, we’re already here.“ said a deep voice. “The boy’ll need to come with us.“

“Oh, please don’t!“ Bustier cried. “He’s only a kid, he didn’t know any better!“

                                                         -🌸-

“I’m sorry, miss, but the security footage suggests otherwise. Though, if you pay a fine, all charges will be dropped.“

“What’s the amount?“ She asked nervously, pulling out her checkbook and hoping euros would translate into whatever the Chinese currency was. 

“794.71 yuan.”

“Do you take euros?“ Caline asked weakly. Nino glared at her, and several of her students looked dumbfounded.

“You didn’t bring Chinese money…on a trip to China?! Even Kim brought some!“

Kim suddenly looked scared. “I don’t have to give up my money, do I?”

She sighed. “No, you don’t. If anything, Marinette should be the one paying. How much is that in euros?“

“100, I believe. We do take euros, if you’ll follow me.“ She sighed and shrugged. 

“Kids, please don’t push anything else over. I’ll be right back.“

                                                        -🌸-

As soon as Bustier hurried away after leading them outside, everyone glared at Marinette except Alya and Nino. Lila still didn’t understand why they had left her, Alya had just stormed up to her one day and yelled, but that was besides the point.

“Marinette, how could you blame this all on Kim? Now Miss Bustier has to pay eight hundred euros!“ Lila cried, earning Marinette a few glares.

She smirked inwardly. Now, if only she could have gotten Marinette arrested…

“Eight hundred yuan, Lila. It’s only a hundred euros, and besides, it would have cost much more if Marinette hadn’t caught the vase.“ Nino said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna call my mom. Do you know how long she’s gonna ground me for? Thirty years!“

“Marinette, what is wrong with you?“ Alix accused. “You seriously need an attitude adjustment. And I think I know just what we need to adjust.“ She whispered something into Lila’s ear and smirked.

“But hey, all disagreements aside, do you want a drink?“ Lila asked, shoving Marinette backwards. She stumbled a bit, and Nino and Alya tried to stop her, but she fell back into a large fountain and emerged a second later, sopping wet.

Her hair had come out of the bun, her makeup was running, and her clothes were soaked through.

Everything was going according to plan. “Oh, Marinette, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…I was only trying to squish a mosquito!”

“Mosquito?“ Marinette seethed through gritted teeth. Her expression was terrifying. 

Lila backed away, as did most of the class. “This was one-of-a-kind, Lila. You ruined it. Chloé should know!“

Everyone turned to Chloé for an answer to the nonexistent question. “I didn’t get her that shirt on purpose! My mom did!” She yelled, ducking into a bathroom. Lila shrugged.

“Marinette!“ Bustier screamed, appearing at just the right time. “What are you doing?!”

Lila interrupted Marinette before she could even speak. “Marinette was trying to push me into the fountain, but I dodged.“ She glanced to the side, where Nino was helping Marinette dry off with handfuls of paper towels. She frowned, then looked over at Alya.

Bad idea.

“Miss Bustier, I have a question. Why would Marinette, one of the most non-violent people we know, try to push Lila into a fountain? Especially after she was just proven innocent? Do you really think that she would compromise her innocence like that?“

Miss Bustier looked alarmed. Lila gritted her teeth–she would have to lay low for a while if she wanted anyone to believe that Marinette would do anything wrong.

They're such idiots, she thought to herself. I’ve got practically the whole class under my thumb.

“Lila? Are you coming? We’re going back to the hotel so nothing else gets damaged.“ She shot a pointed look at Marinette, who was dripping all over the floor.

“O-of course, Miss!“

They caught a bus back to their resort, and Lila was delighted to see that Nino’s efforts had come to no avail trying to distance Marinette from the older men who approached her from behind.

                                                       -🌸-

“Marinette, I can’t believe that little liar.“ Alya said, seething. “She must be getting cocky. Like a game of ‘catch me if you can.’ She’ll have to lay off you for a few days if she wants anything to be believable, though.“

Marinette was toweling off her hair, deep in thought.

“This isn’t like her. Normally, she would stop after the vase and lay off for the rest of the day, maybe badmouth me a little at dinner, but know when to quit.“

“Well, I think you should just bop her in the head with your yo-yo.“ Alya added.

“Agreed!“ Trixx squeaked.

“I don’t normally condone using the Miraculous for selfish purposes, but I’ll let this one slide. You know what to do, Marinette! Get those spots on!“

“Guys,“ Marinette sighed, tossing the towel onto her bed. “That’s not the point. I just want a peaceful few days before I have to deal with her again. Is that too much to ask?“

“Not at all, Marinette!“ Tikki said, nuzzling her cheek. “Just know that I’m always here if you need me!“

“Thanks,“ she whispered.

                            Two Glorious, Lila-free days later...

“So, Marinette, it’s your free day!” Tikki chirped, patting Marinette’s face. “What do you want to do?”

“Sleep,“ she grumbled.

“No, silly! I mean after you visit your family!“

Marinette bolted upright. “What?!”

“You didn’t remember? You’re supposed to meet your biological parents today for brunch at 10.“

“And what time is it now?“ She asked, jumping out of bed to see if Alya was awake.

“5:30.“

“So I only have four hours to get ready?! That’s not nearly enough!“

“Marinette...? Why are you up so early...?“ Alya mumbled sleepily.

“I’m meeting my family!“ she squawked.

Alya sat up and put on her glasses. “Oh. Want me to help you get ready?“ she asked, walking over to the kitchenette for a glass of water.

“That would be great. Now, can you hurry up!?“

Alya took a long sip. “Calm down, Marinette. Do you want them to think you’re nervous all the time? You don’t want that in a princess. Take a deep breath.“ Marinette glared. Taking a deep breath, she focused on how tranquil she would be.

Her mom would probably be there. Wait–mom–not really her mom, but who she...used to think her mom was? Agh, now she was nervous again!

“So, Marinette, what do you want to wear? Something more traditional, or something that’s a little more...you?“ Alya asked, setting her empty cup down on the counter.

“I don’t want to offend them by just wearing, like, a nice blouse and jeans...but I don’t want to overdress. What do I do?“

Alya munched on a bagel thoughtfully. “Do you still have that qipao dress from a few months ago? The pretty pink one with cherry blossoms on it?“

Marinette nodded and pulled a blur of pink fabric out of her suitcase. She shut the bathroom door, and when she came out a second later, she thought that maybe she actually had a chance to make a good first impression.

On her mom.

Hoo boy.

                                                      -🌸-

When Marinette stepped out of the bathroom, Alya immediately started squealing. “Marinette, you look perfect!”

The outfit was simple, no more than a short-sleeved, a-line dress if not for the neckline, which resembled a traditional qipao, adorned with tiny embroidered flowers.

Marinette twirled around. “You like it? I was thinking of wearing those light pink heels. What do you think?”

“Do it.“

                         🌸 at brunch because op sucks 🌸

“Good morning, miss. Where are you headed today?“

Marinette glanced down at the little card in her hands. “The east dining room, please.”

The man at the desk raised his eyebrows so high they were in danger of disappearing into his curly grey hair. “Right this way, your Royal Highness.” he said, pointing her towards an entryway with a significantly fancier arch than the rest.

She walked down a seemingly endless hallway, wondering when she would get to eat, when the narrow room exploded into a dining room larger than her house.

“Ah, hello…Marinette.“ a peaceful voice greeted her. “I’ve been waiting for you!“

“Hi.“ was all she managed to squeak out. The lady in front of her was stunningly beautiful, with black hair that fell in a curtain down to her waist, wearing nearly the same dress as her, but in what looked like red silk.

“Sit, please!“ she said eagerly. “I’d love to get to know you.“

Marinette awkwardly positioned herself in ont of the high-backed chairs.“Okay.“

The lady sat on the chair opposite from her. “My name is Fei. I’m so sorry to have just...left you with my cousin for years, but I really do hope you can forgive me. This is all a bit hectic–trust me, I know–but I believe that if we can get along, this will go smoothly. What do you say?”

Fei had a warm smile, but there was a nervous undertone to her words. She had felt that way before, and a new feeling coursed through her body. Marinette moved forwards forwards and hugged her. “I’d like that.”

She seemed surprised at first, but hugged her back immediately but then let go almost as fast. “Look, I’m just ecsatic, about this, but if it’s uncomfortable calling me ‘mom’, or anything else, I need you to know that it’s okay. You can call me Fei, you can call me mom, you can call me māmā, anything you want. Okay?”

“Thank you.“ Marinette said, looking down. “It’s nice to know I have you. I think it’ll take a while for me to…adjust, but I’m so happy to know that you’re okay with that. Now, can we stop being so serious and eat?“

She beamed. “That sounds great, Marinette!”

After a few minutes of slightly awkward eating, Marinette cleared her throat. “So, other than the whole coronation thing, are there any other princess-y things I’ll have to do while I’m here?”

Fei choked on her water. “Actually…” she coughed. “I’m glad you asked. See, this is only day three of your 10-day trip. We need to get outfits, jewelry, speeches, everything prepared, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to do it all in time.”

Marinette was soeechless. This was unexpected.

“But that’s not all. I have to intruduce you to my mother, my husband, the whole royal family. “ She was sounding increasingly stressed with each sentence. “Everything has to be taken into account.“

“Hey, it’ll be okay!“ Marinette assured. “Things happen. They’ll sort themselves out. I promise.“

“I know. I have to be calm and levelheaded, or else my mom will take over. If that happens, you’ll end up naked at your coronation, or worse, if my husband takes responsibility, he’ll give it to my mom three days later. Do you know what I mean?“

Marinette nodded. “I know, but sometimes things will just happen. But other times, you have to work for them, you know? As long as you don’t give up on it, it will work out. I promise.”

“Hah–usually I’m the one giving the pep talks. Thank you, Marinette, I-I really needed that. How about you go and…meet up with some of your friends? No use in talking to a boring old lady any longer. Go on!“ she said, motioning towards the door.

Marinette turned back and smiled. “Um...bye, I guess!” she murmured, waving.

                                                     -🌸-

“So, Alya, when’s Mari getting back from breakfast with her peeps?” Nino asked as they walked down the street.

“I don’t know. I’ll text. If she replies, she’s free. If she doesn’t, she’s still the–“

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?“ Marinette asked, appearing in front of them. he screamed. “Where did you come from?“

“Brunch.“

“Marinette? You’re already done? We were about to go check out some of the tourist shops.�� Alya remarked, scrolling through something on her phone. Nino rolled his eyes.

“We were going to text you, but since you’re already here, what do you want to do?“ he questioned. Marinette fidgeted with her dress.

“Actually, that sounds fun. Which ones were you thinking?“

“Um, there’s actually one right there.“ Nino said, pointing around her to a shop with neon signs covering the whole window. “It looks fun.“

“So let’s go!“

They walked into the shop, the door jingling cheerfully behind them, and immediately things started catching their eyes. “Oh. My. God. Nino, are you seeing these?” Alya blurted. “They have Carapace merch. We’re world famous!”

Marinette was examining a bracelet with plastic rhinestones on it. “This looks like the bracelet from yesterday’s museum. Isn’t it pretty?” She dug through the bin. “Oh, they have other replicas, too? Awesome.”

Nino walked around, perusing the shelves, not really finding anything that sparked his interest. He picked up a trinket here and there, maybe checked a price tag, but wasn’t very interested. But then he saw it.

“An authentic OctoInk ‘I ain’t callin’ you a truther’ t-shirt? The printing block had an extra line, and only 47 of these were made!“

“Dude.“ Alya and Marinette whispered simultaneously.

“Um, how much is this shirt?“ Nino asked innocently, showing it to the girl at the register. She looked up uninterestedly, blowing a bubble with her gum.

“8 yuan.“ She scoffed. “Like that thing would sell for any more.“

“Hey, this is a nearly one-of-a-kind piece that–mmph!“

“Don’t tell her it’s supposed to be expensive!“ Alya hissed in his ear. “That’s the opposite of what you do!“

Wayzz poked him from his pocket. “She is not wrong, Nino. Purchase the shirt for eight yuan, if it makes you so happy.”

“I’ll take it.“ he said. Marinette put her bracelet on the register with an ‘eh, what the heck?‘ sort of expression. Alya placed a tiny glass turtle on the counter, and Nino felt a flush spreading over his face.

Alya smiled.

                                                    -🌸-

“So, Marinette, why did you get that bracelet?“ Alya asked once they had left the shop. “It looks pretty real, but you have way nicer jewelry at home. Like the necklace you wore this morning?“

“Yeah, but this one looks like the one from the museum. I know it seems silly, but it feels special.“ she said, twisting it around her wrist.

“Nah, I get it. And speaking of special, here comes a special little liar.“

Marinette’s head straightened immediately. “Aw, shit. And here I was thinking this would be a nice day.“

“Oh, hello, Marinette!“ Lila purred, snaking into the space between Nino and her. “I love your bracelet. It looks expensive…“ and with that, she sauntered away, all other interactive possibilities completely wasted.

“Well, that went better than I’d hoped.“ Nino chuckled.

“Ooh, Nino, there’s an art gallery! Want to check it out?“

“Sure thing, babe!“ He turned to Marinette. “Wanna come?“

“You can go without me, I’m going to get a bite to eat.“

“But–didn’t you just get back from–never mind.“ They walked into the gallery, chatting about who-knows-what.

Marinette spun around, and immediately someone on a blue bike yelled a split second before they knocked her over.

“Aaaack, my bike!” A male voice yelled. Marinette tried to open her eyes and stood up. A pale boy with bangs that hung over his eyes stared at her. “Sorry, I guess…”

Marinette stared back. “Okay?” she whispered. Maybe it wasn’t going to be a free day after all.

Just as she was about to ask for his name, her stomach growled like an angry Godzilla.

He chuckled.

“You wanna grab a bite? I know a place.“

“Sure. What’s your name?“

“Jianyu.“

“Marinette.“

He opened the door to a little sandwich restaurant and walked in, but let it swing shut behind him in Marinette’s face. Rude. Once they were seated and Marinette was starting to get a little annoyed at him–it was like he didn’t even notice her–he decided it was time to order.

Jianyu snapped at one of the waitresses to get her attention and whistled to get her to come over. She walked over with a pained expression on her face, then plastered on a smile.

“How may I help you today?“

“I’ll have pork dumplings and a Pepsi, the lady’ll have the chicken salad.“

“Actually, I was going to get–“ Marinette started.

“Sorry, sweetheart.“ he said, shoving the waitress away and turning back to her. “But why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself while she’s gone?“

I know that when I’m crowned princess, I’ll kick your scrawny ass, she thought. But she didn’t say that–in fact, she didn’t say anything, just got up from her chair and knocked Jianyu’s water glass down his front.

She swept out of the store before she could hear his cursing.

Yeah, that date was over.

And–being Marinette–as soon as she stormed out of the restaurant, she slammed into a cute girl with her wavy black hair in a ponytail, wearing leggings and a red hoodie.

“Oh, no, are you alright?“ she gasped, checking Marinette over for injuries.

“I’m fine.“ Marinette grumbled. She wasn’t in the mood to meet anyone else she bumped into, not if they were going to be like him.

“You don’t sound fine. I’m Chuntao.“

“Oh–um, I’m Marinette. Little tip, don’t go in there unless you like being catcalled.“

Chuntao frowned. “Hm. I think my brother told me he was going there for lunch–I wouldn’t put it past him to do that.“ She walked in and came out a second later, dragging Jianyu out by the ear.

“What do you have to say for yourself?“

“Marinette!“ he shouted. “I didn’t do anything! Back me up!“

“You called me ‘sweetheart’.“

“Mom’s gonna kick your ass,“ Chuntao growled, letting go of Jianyu’s ear. He scampered away, and she turned back to Marinette, rubbing her temples.

“I’m so sorry for him, but you seem like a really cool person. Can I get your number?“

“Y-yeah, totally!“ Marinette swapped phones with Chuntao, slightly dazed. She handed her phone back and waved.

“Thanks, Marinette! Text me later!“ She yelled, jogging away.

“See you…”

“So, who was that?“ Alya asked, appearing at her shoulder.

“Waugh! Alya! You know…maybe we should sit down first.“

                                                        -🌸-

“So…what if I’m gay?“

Alya and Nino simultaneously choked on their drinks.

Alya dabbed at her face with a napkin. “Marinette, darling, may I know the circumstances that have led you to entertain this line of inquiry? Because what the fuck?”

“Tell me all about her.” Nino said, resting his chin in his hands.

“Well, she saved me from a really sucky dude,“

“Hm. So she’s already a nice person.“ Alya remarked.

“And she’s super pretty,“

“So are you, honestly. But that’s off-topic.“

“And I haven’t had a real crush on a boy, like, ever,“

“And you went out with Kagami a few months ago, too. That settles it, Marinette! You are most definitely likely probably gay!“ Nino announced, raising his virgin Piña Colada in a toast.

Alya clinked her Shirley Temple against Marinette’s glass. “So, Marinette, it’s your free day. Only 48 hours until the coronation. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I d–“

“Hands in the air!“ an amplified voice screamed. “You’re under arrest!“

.

Tags: @professionalfangirl1738 @kuroko26 @k-poplunardreams @smolplantmum @heaven428 @briareris @dnsakina @purplesundaze @bloodydragon000 @mimika-28 @strawberrycheesecakebar @k-laconia-bug1@kristycocopop @abrx2002 @wannajointhecrabcult @mochegato @lozzybowe @ozwaltwashere @flufflepuffle296 @fandom-trapped-03 @nanakeid @hetalia-lover-is-here @futursworld @pale-lady-dreamer @susiej1118 @lostinthewrongfandom @fantasyfandommaiden @aestheticnpoetic @feliciakainzofspades @schrodingers25 @echpr

[kiribaku-queen]

Home [1/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader, Kirishima x reader

Fluff, angst, werewolf!au

Word count: 4.8K

A/N: This is my first time writing for something on Tumblr, so do tell me how it is! Also haven’t written in a hot minute so it’s going to be a bumpy ride until we get to the good parts!

Summary: Being called the beauty of the clan isn’t as nice as it sounds. The beauty of the clan is supposed to exude confidence, power, and well, beauty. You were quite the opposite, only possessing one of those traits. Yet, the older you got, the more you fit into the role you were given. After your brother and all the boys of age come back from their training period, it was time to find a mate. But who will steal your heart? Is it Bakugou, the rising leader of the pack, or is it Kirishima, the personal guard and the strongest in the pack?

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

5 years old

“Mommy! The other kids won’t stop picking on me,” you cried as you run into your mother’s arms. She kneels so that she is eye level with you, wiping her hands on her apron.

“What happened this time sweetheart?”

“They knocked down my sandcastle. And I worked really hard on it!” You puffed as you crossed both of your stubby arms across your heaving chest. Tears threatened to spill as you recall the accident that just happened. Sniffing the morning air, you could tell it was going to be a nice day outside. The rain has just passed which allowed the air to be crisp in your nose and the warm air passing by the window made you itch to go outside. You couldn’t ignore your instincts, so you immediately run out the front door, ignoring your mother’s call to eat breakfast. She smiles at your energy and shakes her head lovingly while preparing breakfast for your older brother. Thank god the park wasn’t far from your house because that’s exactly where you were going.

You wiped your hair out of your face before sinking your hands and feet into the sand box. Something about how warm the sand was the deeper you went felt so comforting. You didn’t hesitate to dig up a hole to stick your feet in, far enough so that your legs are buried in the sand while sat down comfortably on top. After finding a comfortable spot, you buried the hole your legs were in so that you couldn’t move. As silly as it was, this never failed to make you laugh because you found it entertaining how you couldn’t escape and your upper body was the only thing that could move. On top of where your legs should be, you started building your own sandcastle. You looked up and modeled your sandcastle after the clan leader’s big house in the distance. Oh, how you dreamed you could even step inside at least once in your lifetime. Your lips fitted into a pout upon the realization that this was only a dream. Looking back down at your now crumbling castle, you erased what you had to focus on a new one.

“Look, it’s (y/n). She’s playing by herself again,” some neighboring boys said from a distance, snickering at the sight of you. You continued to look down to only focus on what you were trying to make.

Mommy says to ignore them because they’re jealous.

“Do you see her legs?”

“Did she do that herself?”

“If she did, she must be a real idiot.”

“Yeah, looks like the beauty is an idiot after all.”

They’re just jealous.

“Looks like the idiot beauty must need saving. Let’s go.” The three boys, much bigger boys, slowly approached you. Fear started to ignite in your body. Your chest started feeling tight and your breathing became heavy. Your eyes darted around, not knowing what to do first. Should you fight back? But how can you fight back when your feet are stuck in the sand? Your hands shot to the sand floor, trying to push yourself up but the sand on your legs kept you in place. The boys were getting closer and you were stuck. Shaking, you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the worst. The three boys laughed and knocked down your sandcastle with their feet, causing the sand to hit you in the face. Sand reached your mouth and eyes, causing you to cough and lose your vision.

“HEY!” you hear a boy yell and the shuffling of feet.

“Let’s get out of here,” panic filled one of the boy’s voice. The three boys could be heard running away but two more approached. One touched your hand while the other was chasing after the boys. All that could be heard in the distance was yelling and small sparks.

“Are you okay?” the voice asked, “That wasn’t very manly, what those boys did. A princess should never be treated this way.” Soft hands rubbed the sand away from your eyes. You looked up and squinted. Deep, red eyes stared into your own, a worried look written all over his face. He dug your legs out of the man-made hole and helped you to your feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, dusting more sand off your legs. You could only nod in response, you head hung low. “Have no fear! For I, Kirishima Eijirou, have come to the rescue! Those fiends shall hurt you no more!!” Kirishima smiled, showing off his sharp yet kind smile. A smile that was so wide that it reached his eyes. His red hair lay flat on his head, bangs almost covered his eyes.

“Those guys are lucky I’ve been running all day or else I would have beat them into next week!” A blonde boy came into sight, huffing and puffing, hands balled into fists.

“Bakugou! We have to make sure the princess is okay!” Kirishima called out to Bakugou. Bakugou caught sight of you and immediately, his eyes widened. Forgetting about his rant, he ran up to you and knelt next to Kirishima.

“Princess, are you hurt?” Bakugou asked. All you could do was look at both of them wide eyed. Where did they even come from? Why were they helping you? Was this a trick?

“I’m not a princess…” you mumbled, still looking down at your shoes.

“Of course you are! A pretty girl like you has to be a princess.” Bakugou answered.

“And a princess needs guards to protect her! We will be your guards!” Kirishima said determined, looking around in a protective stance, ready to pounce at anybody who dares to hurt you.

“But…” you try to retaliate but Bakugou quickly interrupts you.

“Sir Kirishima! The princess seems to be hurt. We need to clean her up. Hurry!” Bakugou swiftly picks you up in princess style and carries you to a nearby creek with Kirishima following closely behind. Kirishima rips part of his shirt to dip into the water and wipes your face off. Bakugou sits there and watches intently.

“Princess, what is thy name?” Bakugou speaks up. You turn to him. He has the same eyes are Kirishima’s: worried but more intense. You fiddled with your fingers.

“(y/n)…” you say in the softest voice.

“Well, Princess (y/n), we won’t let anything like that happen to you anymore. Because you have us to protect you!” he said with a thumbs up.

“But… you don’t know me…”

“Yes we do! You’re (y/n). And I’m Kirishima, he’s Bakugou. See! We know each other now so let’s be friends, yeah?” Kirishima pointed out and gave you another wide smile. Wow, friends? You never really had friends besides your brother. They didn’t want to pick on you like the other kids? You were too excited by the fact that they wanted to be friends with you. Looking up with determined eyes, you gave a small smile and nodded your head. Kirishima cheered aloud while Bakugou gave a small smile.

“Well Princess (y/n), since you are a princess now, a princess needs a prince! Since I am the most qualified, I will be your prince!” Bakugou stands and puts one hand on his hips, the other pointing to himself.

Kirishima agrees. “And I shall be your bodyguard that keeps you both safe! I can harden my skin, you know.” And he shows off his hardening quirk by hardening his forearms. Your eyes shine in awe but Bakugou scoffs in return.

“Oh yeah? Well princess, my powers are better than his. Watch this,” and Bakugou lays his hands out in front of him and they start to spark. “With this super cool power, I will forever protect you.” He said determined.

“Bakugou I can protect her too.” Kirishima starts to pout.

“But I’m married to the princess so I have to protect her. You have to protect both of us. That’s pretty manly,” Kirishima didn’t need to hear anymore. Manly? Nothing was more manly than protecting people. He could protect you, sure. But TWO people?! Now that’s what he’s talking about! Kirishima then went on a rant, bragging how he was better because he was protecting two people instead of one. You and Bakugou giggled and paid no mind to him. Instead, Bakugou continues to clean you up and makes sure that you didn’t have any scratches.

“(y/n)?!” a young, male voice calls out. Your head spins and immediately calls back.

“Ah, Sero!” You get up and run towards your older brother. He catches sight of you and runs to meet you in the middle.

“(y/n), where did you go? You know better than to be out of sight from the house. Mom was worried,” Sero looked down on you, worry plastered all over his face. Your lips went into a pout and apologized.

“Sorry Sero. But my friends came to help me because I got hurt,” you explained. Sero looked behind you and saw Bakugou and Kirishima standing there looking all high and mighty.

“Ah, thank you for helping my little sister. But we have to go now. Mom made food and you skipped breakfast,” he bowed to thank the two boys, grabbed your wrist and took you back to the house. You looked back to see them still staring at you, waving their goodbyes.

“See you later princess!!” they said in unison. You smiled and waved back, giving them a toothy smile.

 12 years old

You sat outside, sitting on your favorite, most comfortable stool that you wove yourself. In front of you was a table full of gems, rocks and string. You were concentrated on improving your jewelry making skills. Next to the table was a basket full of failed jewelry. It’s not like you couldn’t make anything, but it was the design that bothered you. You just can’t seem to make something pretty or aesthetically pleasing in your eyes. As the string passed through the final stone, you sighed in relief and raised the piece of jewelry in front of you to admire your work.

It’s perfect. I wonder if he’ll like it…

“Ew, that’s what you came up with?” You looked up to see a group of girls staring at your work in disgust. You let out a breath and put down the necklace you had been working so hard on.

Their words mean nothing.

“Honestly, shouldn’t you be better at this by now? I mean, I can make something better than that in less than a minute. And blindfolded!” the snarky comment came from the girl in the middle, who seemed like the leader of the group. The rest of the girls laughed along, but it wasn’t even funny.

I’m still practicing. It doesn’t have to look perfect.

“Who are you trying to give that to? Bakugou? He would never wear something so ugly.”

He wouldn’t would he…

“What’s ugly?” Bakugou appeared behind you, his face a little too close to you. He took the necklace in his fingers and examined it. Without a second thought, he wore it around his neck and turned to you. “How do I look?” he asked. All you could do was admire how well it fit him. You didn’t say anything but he already knew your answer. Switching from the soft eyes he gave you, he looked down on the group of girls, snarling, showing off his canines. “Scram.” That was all it took for the girls to get lost in the blink of an eye. As soon as they left, you turned to Bakugou and gave him a disapproving look.

“I could have handled that myself,” you crossed your arms across your chest, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He says sarcastically and takes a seat next to you, examining everything on the table. You turn to him and gave the necklace another glance.

“It is kind of ugly isn’t it?” you were mostly talking to yourself but Bakugou could clearly hear it.

“This thing? I look good, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He checks himself out in the nearby mirror. You shake your head and try to pry it off his neck.

“They weren’t wrong though. Let me make a new one for you. I promise it’ll look better,” as soon as you touched his neck, his hands grabbed your wrists, stopping you from advancing any further. You jump at the action and your eyes traveled to his red eyes. Man, were they intense as ever.

“I said I like it, okay? Have more confidence. Your skills have definitely improved.” You remove your hands from his and continue to work on the other jewelry pieces.

“I know but they just aren’t up to my standards, you know that.”

“Ah, you beat me again!” Kirishima runs up to you two out of breath. He is leaning so that both of his hands are resting on his knees. He looks up and glares at Bakugou.

“Bro, I’m supposed to be the knight in shining armor. Why do you always beat me to it?!” he groaned and kicked the ground.

“It’s because you aren’t her husband. I always know when (y/n) is in trouble. Plus you’re just slow,” he mutters that last statement under his breath but it cracks you up. You let out a small giggle and Kirishima stares at you in disbelief.

“(y/n) how can you laugh at that?! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Sorry Eiji, it was kind of funny,” you replied, trying to stifle another giggle but you failed. You continued to laugh while Bakugou smirked right beside you.

“Yeah yeah. Bakugou, your dad is looking for you. We have to go back now.” Kirishima informed Bakugou, straightening up once he caught his breath. Bakugou groaned in response.

“I barely got a chance to go outside this week and now he wants me back already?”

“Clan leader’s orders.” Was all he could say. Bakugou cursed under his breath and stood up. It didn’t take you long after you became friends with them to find out that Bakugou was the son of the clan leader and Kirishima was his personal guard… in training. They would sneak out once in a while to escape the responsibilities and the strict rules that he had to follow. They would sneak out even more just to see you and make sure that no one was bothering you. After all, Bakugou was your prince and Kirishima was your knight in shining armor. Groaning once more, Bakugou stands up and stretches a little. He then turns to you, ruffling your hair which causes a blush to creep up your face.

“See you later, yeah?” he questions. He raises a brow when you don’t answer. “Oi,”

“Huh? Oh… yeah, see you later,” you sheepishly reply and look away before he could see the ever-growing blush on your cheeks. Bakugou didn’t catch it but a certain pair of sad, red eyes did, glancing back and forth between the two people in front of him. His chest tightened slightly at the sight. As the two boys turned their backs, you began to continue your jewelry making. Only when you took a glance up did you see a certain blonde boy looking your direction.

 16 years old

Bakugou and Kirishima started transforming into their wolf form more often. You would watch from the side while they play fight. “Training” as they would call it. These fights were never serious, even when they were fighting with the other boys. Today was no different. A huge crowd formed a circle with only two opponents in the middle. You sat on top of a rock, watching the spectacle from above. Kirishima was in the middle this time facing an opponent that had a similar quirk to his. When Kirishima is in his wolf form, he can harden his fur, allowing him to be impenetrable. Seeing that his opponent had a similar hardening ability, the fight wasn’t getting anywhere. By the end of the fight, both were fighting for their breaths and almost passed out. Kirishima looked frustrated from above which was funny to watch. He never got like that unless he was losing.

Next was Bakugou. You straightened up and payed closer to the wolf in the middle. His golden fur was fully spiked up, just like his silly hair. His mouth turned into the nastiest snarl, baring his sharp teeth. Intimidating, but not to you. Dangling from his neck, the necklace you made for him 4 years ago. He’s still wearing it to this day. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact. Even when he’s fighting, he still chooses to wear it. Bakugou’s quirk transformed from his hands to his mouth when he is in his wolf form.

When the fight starts, it starts off as any other fight Bakugou has. He lets his opponent think he has the upper hand but when they are caught off guard, Bakugou finishes them off in one blow. As Bakugou jumps in the air to land on top of his opponent, they react fast and bites his neck in response. With one snatch, the necklace that was once on Bakugou’s neck was shattered into pieces on the floor. Both wolves stopped moving, as if like they were put on pause. No one was cheering. No one was even breathing. Bakugou, mouth agape, stared at the broken necklace on the floor. And as if someone brought him back to life, he snapped his head towards his opponent with a glare that could suffocate anyone who looked straight at him. Red, fiery eyes burned a hole straight into his soul but not before Bakugou was ripping his fur to shreds.

Quick to stop the fight, Kirishima jumped in to hold Bakugou back. But Bakugou wasn’t stopping without a fight. He broke the necklace you gave him. The necklace you worked so hard on. Just for him. The necklace that proved to everyone that you weren’t someone to be messed with. The necklace that symbolized your growth. And he broke it. Realizing what was happening, you swiftly moved towards the fight and towards Bakugou.

“Bakugou, calm down!” Kirishima yelled, in hopes that Bakugou could hear him through his tunnel vision. He was already having a hard time pulling him back, but he needed to find a way to get out of the situation.

“Bakugou!” you reached the circle and ran straight to him. You reached up and cupped his muzzle, forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay. Let’s just get out of here okay?” you pleaded. You desperately searched his eyes, trying to bring Bakugou back since he was so blinded by rage. It took a while for him to calm down, but he eventually did, chest heaving up and down. Without a word, he stalks off into the night, disappearing from the crowd. Kirishima takes one step to follow after him, but you stop him. With a light nod, Kirishima allows you to chase after him but eyes linger in your direction for a little too long.

You spot Bakugou, back in his human form, sitting on a boulder near the creek. Slowly approaching, you sat right next to him. It was silent. You both stared at the flowing water, just listening to the sounds of nature, until you break the silence.

“You okay?” you asked, looking up in his direction. His lips formed in a frown, eyes furrowed, and eyes staring daggers into the water.

“Yeah..” he mumbled. You sighed and stood up to face him better. He had a few cuts and bruises on his face. Nothing too big but enough to make your heart ache. Like you’ve done a million times before, you ripped part of the dress you were wearing, dipped it into the water and proceeded to clean his wounds. Again, it was silent. But you didn’t mind it. You were too deep in concentration to notice Bakugou staring right at you.

“Why did you get so angry?” you questioned.

“That fucker broke my necklace,”

“It’s just a necklace,” you tried to laugh it off, to lift the mood. But you probably read the room wrong because he wasn’t laughing.

“That you made.” And as soon as he said that, you couldn’t help the smile creeping on your face and the hotness on your cheeks. You pursed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling.

“Well I can always make you a new one. I can’t believe you kept that same one from 4 years ago. My skills have improved you know.” You puffed your chest out and put both hands on your hips, looking offended. He chuckled in response.

“Then make me a new one.” The way he stared at you made it look like a challenge. Well challenge accepted.

“I will! Come on,” You grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him back to you family home. You sat him down and started to create a new necklace while he watched. Instead of making a completely new design, you decided to make the same one but just tweak it just a little so that it looks better. Bakugou wasn’t watching your hands make it. No. He was watching your face. How you were so concentrated on putting the string through the gem. How your nose would scrunch up when you messed up. How your tongue stuck out a little because you were so concentrated. How the moonlight hit your face so perfectly, making you shine more beautifully than ever before. Yeah, you were the beauty of the clan but to Bakugou, beauty doesn’t even come close to describing how you look. Your looks were so out of this world, he can’t believe you actually exist. And here of all places. He doesn’t even realize that the longer he stares, the more he is leaning in.

You smile and hold up the new necklace, proud because it looks so much better than the original.

“Done! Do you like i-” but before you could finish, a soft pair of lips land on yours. You stare for a second because you have no idea what is happening. Looking down, you see Bakugou’s lips on yours. But why? How is this happening?! You are sure that you are dreaming. Bakugou pulls back to look you dead in the eye.

“Are you just going to stare?” he barely says in a whisper. His deep, raspy voice loud enough for only you to hear. You blink and continue to tell yourself that this is a dream. But you know it’s not when you feel a tingling sensation on your lips from when Bakugou kissed you. Making you crave more of him.

“I just – I don’t… what just happened?” You could barely fix a sentence. Bakugou chuckles and leans more into you, placing a hand on either side of you.

“What? Can’t kiss my wife?” he teased. Warm blood rushes to your cheeks and you push his chest away. He was too close for comfort yet you didn’t want him to go.

“S-Stop joking around. How can you joke around in a situation like this?” You could barely look him in the face.

“Am I lying though?”

“Yes! I’m not your wife!” you exclaim, pointing out the obvious. You expected him to joke around some more and tell you how you’ve been his wife since age 5. But what you didn’t expect was what he said next.

“We can change that,” gosh, why was he always making you blush. Adrenaline was rushing, your heart was pumping, you head was spinning. You felt like you could pass out any time but a burst of confidence surged through your body.

“How can I be your wife if I’m not your girlfriend first,” Where did this confidence even come from? Bakugou cracked a smile. He looked at your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Then be my girlfriend.”

 18 years old

“Do you really have to go?” you pouted, tears threatening to spill. You looked up at your older brother, Sero, and a bigger frown appeared on your face when he just gives you a soft look. Ruffling your hair, he connects your foreheads together.

“It’s only a couple of years. I’ll come back stronger than ever.” He gave you a soft smile. When he pulled away, you immediately went in for a bear hug because even though he hasn’t left yet, it already felt like he was going to be gone forever. A small chuckle could be heard as you lay your head on his chest, the vibrations of his laugh made you feel at home.

“I love you.” You say in his chest. “Please stay safe and make it back in one piece.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Love you,” he kisses the top of your head, picks up his duffle bag and jogs towards the group of other 18-year-olds who are ready to go. When boys reach the age of 18, they are required to go away to a special training camp for 2 years. This camp helps them grow stronger, build their skill and train to become alpha of the pack. By the end of the camp, only one male will come out victorious as the successor. As you watch Sero greet his friends, strong arms envelop around your waist while a head rests on your shoulder.

“How come I don’t get any love?” Bakugou teases in your ear and you can just see the smirk on his face. You slap his hands away, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I was just going to come see you,” you smile but then it slowly turned into a frown. Bakugou was going too. He had just finished saying his goodbyes to his parents and sniffed you out immediately.

“You’ll wait for me till I get back?” Bakugou asked, almost scared and unsure. 2 years was a long time and anything could happen in between that time. You could find another mate. Or worse, have pups with another man. Or you could be seriously injured or sick. A neighboring clan could invade and no one would be alive to tell its tale. Seeing the worried look in his eyes and the way he was spacing out, you stood on your tippy toes and to peck him on the lips to bring him back to life. His vermillion eyes reached yours, waiting your answer.

“Of course I will,” you reassured him. A soft smile reached his lips.

“And when I get back as the new clan leader, I’ll take you as my wife, so we can rule this pack together.” He sounded more confident this time. It was a statement, not a question. You bit your bottom lip to stop the smile coming but you failed miserably. Before you could respond, Kirishima jumps on Bakugou’s back, ruining the precious moment between you two.

“Baku, let’s go! Group is waiting on us!” Kirishima informs, never failing to leave a smile on his lips. Oblivious to Bakugou’s glare and ranting on ruining the mood, Kirishima faces you and gives you a crushing hug. “See ya later (y/n)! We are going to come back ripped and manly as hell!” he flexed his muscles in all directions, making you laugh in response.

“If you don’t, I’d be questioning what you did all that time,” you and Kirishima continued to have small talk while Bakugou is just watching from the side. Annoyed, yes. But this was the last time he could see you smile for a couple years. So as much as he wanted to blow up on Kirishima, he didn’t want to ruin the little time he had with you.

“Alright shitty hair. Leave us alone for second. I’ll meet you over there,” Bakugou shooed Kirishima away. He pulled you close, your bodies flushed together, his hands securely wrapped around your waist. Kirishima’s smile faltered a little, but not enough for anyone to see. Saying your final goodbye to Kirishima, he jogged towards group with a red duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Bakugou let out a groan, finally thankful that his friend was gone. Pulling you into a hug, he inhaled your scent, trying to ingrain it into his memory. He then put your noses together, giving you eskimo kisses.

“I love you,” he breathed. Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing those words. It wasn’t your first time saying it together each other, but every time he said it, it was like he was saying it for the first time.

“I love you, too,” you replied. The warm feeling inside you was now fading. It was being replaced with heavy breaths and a tight chest. Tears began to form again. You really didn’t want him to leave, but you couldn’t do anything about it. He quickly pecked your lips for the last time and picked up his own duffel bag.

“Wait, Katsuki!” As he was about to turn around to get to the group, you tugged his arm causing him to look at you. “Promise?” you looked at him with pleading eyes, referring to the statement he made earlier. Bringing you back in for one more passionate kiss, he left you breathless.

“Promise.”

[c-c-cherry]

Any family headcanons for the gang members who's families we weren't told about??

Guess who was doing headcanons again at 4am??? ME!!! I’m sorry also with the much wanted help of @jjadegreen because she’s officially my headcanon pal and she always helps me a lot with this shit :)

I’m literally posting these at 5:45 am but they sounded good in my sleep-deprived head and they looked good on paper from my sleep-deprived vision so I’m just gonna post this now and worry about it tomorrow!

I use these headcanons regardless of whether its an Everyone Live’s situation or not so there are clashes between fics like the Storm and The Unknown (I usually just use most of these headcanons regardless of what I’m writing and what universe and whatever)

I know I say this whenever I post ANY fucking headcanons, but I’m sorry.

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Abbacchio

-There’s not much to say about his parents. They were pretty average. All they wanted was for him to be successful; get a nice job, find someone to love. They weren’t too close with him, but they were there.

-He did, however, have an older sister by the name of Pantera Abbacchio

-And she was even more goth than he was.

-When lil Leone was just starting out in high school, she already was in her last year and by then she was already a fully-ascended goth goddess

-They weren’t that close (they had a 4 year difference) and she always thought he was too enthusiastic about everything. They never really connected

-BUT—

-He got really curious and thought she was really cool so he used to steal her clothes and makeup all the time and all her friends made fun of her for it, but she secretly thought it was adorable

-She was cold at first, but soon started sharing everything with him (she lent him all her fishnet clothes and purple dresses and crazy silver jewelry and even let him use her lipstick sometimes

-His parents thought it was a bit...unconventional at first but they wanted him to be happy so they supported it

-One day after school he got dragged into an alleyway (bb Abba was puny I don’t make the rules) and just got the absolute shit beaten out of him. She had poetry club after school so as she was walking to the parking lot she found him there bawling his eyes out because he got blood all over her favourite shirt

-She took him shopping that day (she put concealer on him in the mall parking lot to hide the bruises from their parents)

-They also got ice cream

-She didn’t approve of him becoming a cop (she don’t like cops one bit) but when he let his partner die and learned that he took bribes, she was so fucking angry. She never wanted to talk to him again

-His parents tried to stay connected, but the family seemed too fragmented and everyone was still angry at him

-Years later, she decided that maybe she should talk to him, to try and reconnect

-When Giorno picked up the phone instead and explained everything to her, she realized she was too late

-She was a sobbing, screaming mess and she felt like a terrible sister

-She felt like if she had called sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten wrapped up in the mafia

-Giorno invited her to the funeral, and they properly met there

-It was an open-casket, and in his will he requested that he wore the first dress that his sister bought him. (It had to be tailored a bit, but it fit)

-She planted purple lilies by his grave, and although she hasn’t talked to the gang since the funeral, the flowers are always watered.

Fugo

-His parents were assholes. Rich assholes.

-They gave him everything he wanted in exchange that he keep up their reputation, but even now, he still felt like he never did that right

-He had a little brother, Budino Fugo

-His brother was the last thing on his mind when he went to University, Panna would almost call himself an only child

-They weren’t close at all. They were always separated because of Fugo’s unpredictable anger and their house was so big that the only time they would see each other were during family greeting card photoshoots and for the painting of the giant portrait that sat in their foyer

-They got it re-painted once they kicked him out

-Budino was only three when Fugo was disowned, so by the time he’s older, his mysterious older brother is nothing but a distant memory, only someone he would pose with for photos and large gatherings

-Any photos of Panna are gone by the time he’s five, as are any traces of him existing. Anytime he would ask about the blond that disappeared out of their lives, he was always denied any answer

-He learned not to answer any questions

-Unbeknownst to him, he ended up looking exactly like his brother. If you were to place two photos of them side-by-side at the same age, you would barely be able to tell them apart

-He grew up without ever really knowing that his brother existed and he always thought of himself as an only child

-He grew up to be the perfect child. Charming, happy, calm, intelligent. He became the Pannacotta Fugo that his parents always wanted

-Everyone loved him, and although he didn’t go University that young, his charm and good reputation made up for it

-Budino would like to say that he lived a good life, but sometimes he wakes up and wonders who the blond look-alike is that always seems to pop up in his dreams. He wonders why he feels like something is missing, like there’s something that everyone isn’t telling him. He wonders who was holding him during photoshoots and who his parents used to yell at in the fragments of his memories

-But he shrugs it off. He has everything he could ever need, so why should he worry about that?

Mista

-Mista’s parents weren’t poor, but they weren’t exactly rich either. Living in a big family, they had to learn how to spread out their spending, and sometimes they didn’t exactly have enough to eat every night

-Both of his parents worked endlessly long hours and barely made it back by dinnertime, but sometimes they did, and every night when they didn’t, they still had food on the table

-Mista never hated his parents, but they were pretty dependent on him. They needed him to look after his sisters while they were working, and although he found it irritating, he never resented them for it

-The only time Mista can confidently say the number four without wincing is when he’s talking about his sisters

-Four of them, to be exact

-Mela was the youngest, around six or seven the last time Mista heard from her. She was pretty fragile most of the time and had to stay home from school a lot because of how weak her immune system was

-Mista missed a lot of school taking care of her, but she was always fun to be around and he managed to graduate with pretty good grades by the end of it

-He soon found out that she shared the same name as Narancia’s mother. He knew the two had more in common than they thought

-Stella was around nine the last time Mista saw her. She was the most professional and serious person he had ever met. She got incredible grades in school and her teachers often said that she was destined to be something like a doctor or a famous scientist

-Although she wasn’t exactly a jokester like her brother, he always managed to get her to crack a smile once in a while

-Gioia was thirteen, and she fit her name perfectly; she was the most joyous person Mista had ever met. Almost the exact opposite of Stella (she would always make fun of her for being such a prude)

-She loved cooking and would always help Mista out with taking care of Mela, but she loved animals even more than food

-They couldn’t afford a pet, but she always befriended the neighbourhood cats and Mista was even saving up to buy her a cat or snake (she loved snakes)

-Sera was fifteen, and somehow even quieter than Stella. She always seemed very reserved and closed off from the rest of the world, even Mista couldn’t get her to laugh

-She had a soft spot for Gioia, Mista noticed that the two of them would sneak out of the house at night and he wondered if she was a different person away from the rest of them

-Mista sees Sera and Giorno as almost one in the same, which is why he doesn’t exactly know how to react when he sees Gio in such a state in Stormverse

-After he went to jail, no one went to visit him. His parents were furious that he could murder a man, and he never saw his sisters again

-Stella was so angry and disappointed the last time he saw them all in that holding cell, she refused to even look at him. Gioia was bawling her eyes out and Sera gave him the hardest stare he had ever seen. Mela asked when he was coming home.

-He never did.

-When Bruno bailed him out of jail, he managed to give both of his parents a pretty large raise and promotion in their jobs

-They were always there for dinner after that, always there for them, and that’s all Mista ever really wanted for his family in the end.

Giorno

I’m sorry, bros. I have no headcanons for him. Only child, shitty family. All he really had was Gold Experience’s presence and a pack of cards.

Trish

-Donatella Una was a single mother, and her and Trish were very close because of it

-Her mother was beautiful and taught her everything she knows about the fashion world

-She had the most beautiful singing voice and always dreamed of being in the music industry -When Trish voiced interest in trying out for a few local parts, she was overjoyed and they instantly bonded over it. Trish claims later when her music career kicks off that her mother was her biggest inspiration

-Donatella was the absolute QUEEN of Girl’s Nights™—she would always go all out on snacks, makeovers, shitty romcoms...you name it and she probably spent way too much money on it

-They would do each other’s nails all the time and her mother taught her how to do her hair every morning

-She was in the middle of teaching Trish how to do winged eyeliner when she had to go to the hospital. She died before she could finish teaching her

-She never resented her father (well, before she met him, that is), even her mother knew that there was no way he could have known she was pregnant, but she always liked to think that he would have taken care of them if he did

-That opinion changed very quickly

-Always had that mineral water on hand—Ms. Una said hydrate or diedrate

-She couldn’t cook for the life of her so they got takeout A LOT and Trish has been to a fair share of fancy restaurants

-Her and her mom were going to go out together after school and get pedicures before the school got a call that she had been rushed to the hospital

Narancia

-He was an only child and his mother was always very kind to him

-She was the kind of mom who would cut your sandwich into a different shape every morning and made sure you got enough water and sunscreen and stuff

-Before she got her eye infection, the two of them would always be spending time together. His father was nice enough to the both of them and was never cruel while she was alive, but the moment she was admitted to the hospital, something inside him kind of unclicked and he never bounced back from it

-Although his father would come with him for hospital visits, he mostly stood to the side and spoke with the doctors while Nara would sit with his mama

-The hospital had all this stuff for sick patients like therapy animals and music and a really beautiful garden so Narancia would bring his mom outside all the time to sit under the apple trees

-And YES, he DID grow an apple tree in the backyard in Stormverse thanks to Giorno

Bruno

-It was just him and his dad after his mom left

-Bruno was a lot like Paolo in the way that the two of them were super stoic and rarely showed weakness around each other

-They were still very close

-They would go fishing together!!! Bruno was taught about boats and fishing and pretty much everything about the trade

-When he was little, he wanted to be just like his father :)

-When Paolo would go out for the day, he would hang around the dock in the summertime waiting for him to come back

-All the fishermen’s kids would hang around there too whenever there wasn’t school, so Bruno used to play with them all the time

-He got his first point as “cool mom friend” when he saved a tourist’s kid from drowning when they fell off the dock when he was around nine or ten

-The tourists gave Paolo an extra big tip that day :)

-He absolutely got his savior complex when his parents divorced and he chose to stay with his dad

-Pretty much nothing scared baby Bruno but thunderstorms hit different

-His father was always really careful about going out on really cloudy days, but once in a while a storm would hit and he would be forced to dock somewhere else until it passed through

-Bruno would sit there for hours not knowing if he was okay or not

-Bruno Bucciarati does not cry, but on those nights he did.

-Because he couldn’t lose his dad, too.

-He would always come back, of course, and he would always ask why Bruno’s eyes and nose were so red

- “Just Summer allergies, papà. Don’t worry about it.”

-He loves the rain, but thunder still kind of freaks him out 

-After his father got attacked, he dropped out of school to work for Passione. When he was well enough to go home, his dad finally figured it out and they had a huge fight about it

-Bruno slept half-awake by the front door with a pocket knife in his hand and he would board up all the windows

-The longer he worked for Passione the more him and his father drifted apart. Bruno was always paranoid after that, but he could never tell him why and it caused a huge rift between them

-His mother didn’t come to Paolo’s funeral

-He moved out almost immediately after the funeral and Polpo got him a place to live after he heard what happened

-He doesn’t often visit his father’s grave, but he constantly thinks about him with every decision he makes

-He always wanted to retire someone close to the sea.

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Yeah ahaha did you know I’m capable of really sad headcanons? YOU DO NOW. Were Fugo and Abba’s ridiculously long? YeAh :) Were Nara and Trish’s ridiculously short? Also YeAh :(

Again, a wonderful beautiful thanks to @jjadegreen because my small brain self can’t come up with all the headcanons on my own ;’)

If you’ve got a question, come and vibe and hit up my inbox!! <3

[blankdblank]

Ridikulus Pt 29

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 - Pt 27 - Pt 28

**

It didn’t take long at all for you to pack, you wouldn’t need very much but just in case you packed a couple dresses in case they surprised you with a need for them with your jewelry case of Suzienne’s lost collection pieces for an extravagant decoration if needed. Swapping your formerly bloody blouse for your comfy maroon sweater your trunk floated after you as you added your bolero hat over your loose bun of curls now nearly to your neck. Em’s things were already packed for you and she bounced up into your arms ready for the trip nestling on your hip against your chest for the walk through the linked doorway into the King’s Apartment.

Following the sound of giggles you found them in one of the gardens and tight hugs and pecks on the cheeks were traded with the boys as you repeated, “See you Monday.” On your feet again Legolas couldn’t help but chuckle at your hug for him as well he gladly returned, “I’ll bring you back something, be careful not to fall from any trees.” Teasingly making Thranduil smirk you added, “Even if your Dad is able to fall from a hundred feet from one don’t actively try to do that until we get back.”

Legolas chuckled as the boys stood in awe of the fact asking to learn how to do that one day, “I will do my best to wait until your return for my tree diving practice.”

In a glance to Taule you flashed her a grin at her gentle pat on your shoulder you assumed to be her version of a hug before she claimed a tight one from Thranduil, “Enjoy your trip, Little Bud.” Glorfindel wished the boys goodbye as well promising to bring back pictures on a camera you had brought for them to do so with to share what the boys had missed. Trunks were tucked away in your satchel to ease travel and Em was back on your hip ready to go babbling to the men about her own plans for the country she had never seen in person yet.

Through the archway to the one in Pumpernickel they followed you around the hill or archways to another they did not recognize the symbol on. Straight through it their eyes flinched wider at the bustling hundreds around them in varying styles of dress and all speaking a thick rough language close to Khuzdul by their ear.

A single darting glance and a gasp was followed by your whispered name with a wave of heads turned and grins flashed your way. Bobs of heads came from those not willing to approach while those who did puzzled the men scrambling for something to write with and on they held while offering you their pens. Curiously the men watched you scribble out tiny notes and an abbreviation of your name between the mini interactions you had with each. One by one returning the head nods the dark shortened travel robe dressed pair behind you with circlet and crown on full display had issued around you until the flash of the first camera on a reporter went off.

Straight up to you while you made your way through the street and peacefully milling people flowing around you after they had been greeted themselves the reporter asked in thickly accented English, “Miss Black, what brings you to Lower Bulgaria?”

“Traveling through to France.”

Reporter, “Ooh, visiting family for the weekend?”

“Yes and no. Making the trip to film as well.”

A second reporter popped up, “Filming what?”

“Cinderella.” That stirred some grins and subtle ooh’s around you clearly showing the men it was a well known tale.

The first Reporter again asked, “Who are your friends?”

“My Partners, King Thranduil and Lord Glorfindel.”

First Reporter, “Can you spell that, please?”

You did and a Second Reporter asked, “Partners?”

“From The Greater Greenwood.” You nodded and accepting his pen you wrote their names and he nodded his head thanking you as you said, “We got to go catch our train.”

“Of course,” and “Safe travels,” rippled around you. And well wishes came in a muddle of formal greetings came for the pair behind you avoiding more people and a pillar to follow you through the rotating door into the train station. With tracks now opposite King’s Cross Station now in Dale that links with the rest of the British lands now North of Erebor across the small stretch of ocean that runs straight from there to Hogsmeade. The magnificent building stunned the men who turned their heads to take in the odd posters and signs they couldn’t read between statues and trains in the distance. A dip into your bag had you passing the confused pair their travel booklets.

“Your passports to travel in Wizarding Lands.” They nodded and you said, “The other lands are hoping to stick to our usual travel laws in light of all the changes.”

Glorfindel, “How do these come into use?”

When you took your place at the back of the line you also brought out the tickets along with your passport and Em’s saying, “They’ll ask for them, you hand them over and they’ll ask if you have anything to declare, you didn’t bring any food did you?” They shook their heads, “Good, then you say no and then they’ll ask if you’re traveling for business or pleasure and you say pleasure.”

Glorfindel, “Though you are traveling to work.”

“Yes, but you aren’t. There’s a special process of paperwork to earn an income in another Wizarding territory. For taxes and such.” Turning your head at Em’s tap on your shoulder the men joined you in stepping forward to head through the archway to check your tickets and head through to the terminals. At the split of your group the confused men held their tickets and booklets staring between the back of those in front of them and you between them then to the open stations in front of them.

After taking in the patterns of those in front of them they passed the papers over and watched the people pause at the front of the booklets then glance between the pictures inside to the men and ask with their formal titles, “Majesty, on holiday?”

Flatly Thranduil replied, “My partner is traveling for work, I am here for pleasure.”

Glorfindel gave roughly the same answer and they watched their books get stamped, closed and passed back to them and with a soft thanks they accepted them and walked around the stations through the turnstile into the open hall to link back up to your sides to follow you through the milling masses stealing glimpses up at the tall duo. In a settle of his hand on your upper back in a freed moment of taking space at your side when you turned for the right terminal, “I believe we were convincing.”

To which you grinned up at him and Thranduil asked after noticing scattered females also wearing various styles of hats, “Is it common to wear headdresses in this territory for females?”

Turning your head you stated, “Pure Blood tradition, no self respecting Witch would be caught without a hat.” His brow twitched and you giggled saying, “Meaning if you are traveling somewhere you are known you wear a hat. Sort of like your crown. We don’t have nobility but for pure bloods it would be as if they are Ladies, held to higher standard.” Earning a nod from him, “Though it does depend on how hard they are on keeping tradition or even if they like wearing hats or it could just be someone who likes hats. For me it’s tradition and I like my hat.”

Glorfindel, “It does seem to suit you.”

Em stated excitedly, “I’m getting a hat when I’m big.”

“Yes you are,” you giggled and kissed her cheek making her giggle too and curl up against your chest with a sudden big yawn ready for a nap. “This one’s ours.” You said turning to guide the men to the train on your right they eyed curiously in their approach.

Looking forward the pair followed you through the doorway they passed through and into the hall on their left stirring more gasps and waves on your way through to an empty car you opened and led the pair inside. Cautiously Thranduil slid the door shut as if he was afraid to break it and next to Glorfindel he sat across from you while you laid Em out on the bench beside you covering her with a blanket from your bag to let her sleep.

Thranduil broke the silence, “What lands are we in?”

“Lower Bulgria, the portion in the Misty Mountains just above Moria.” They nodded and you said, “You did do well.”

Glorfindel, “Might I ask, what messages did they take?”

“Oh, those were autographs. Um, when you meet someone famous you can ask them for an autograph, usually it can just be a signature or a brief message they choose as a keepsake of their meeting you.” Their brows inched up, “It’s odd, but, you get used to it.”

Thranduil, “That man, who asked you questions, and the other, why-,”

“They’re reporters. For their papers and magazines they can ask questions and they write articles or gossip columns on updates in the lives of celebrities or stories on current events.”

Glorfindel, “And you stated we were your partners? Partners in what, exactly?”

“Like, Life Partners. You’re 15,000 years old I don’t feel right calling you my boyfriends, you’re a bit too far into adulthood to be called boy anything. If you don’t-,”

They shook their heads, “No, no, Partner is good.” Both saying it with grins, feeling their hearts soaring knowing that this could possibly knock them far closer to the rights to propose engagement once a few more markers for their culture was honored.

Thranduil smoothed his fingers over his booklet and asked, “These travel laws, how do they work exactly?”

“Well,” you wet your lips, “We have separate countries, I know we’ve shared this, but each country has its own Ministry of Magic. To travel between them you have to follow certain laws, certain limits on foods, creatures or even cursed or jinxed items,” Earning nods from them. “Now, this is the main line that travels from country to country, but each country has its own train system to get from city to city inside its borders. Because most aren’t small enough to walk from one end to the other in a reasonable amount of time for jobs and such. All of this is to keep law and order, so you now have your own passports though if you notice the letters in the bottom right corner that means you’re both considered under the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic.”

Glorfindel, “Is this common for new found allies?”

“Well, we haven’t found any new lands in centuries actually, however, see, all the Ministries of Magic have a Council they meet on every so often to share updates, part of how we spread the word about the war. Anyways, Remus shared about your people and the lands we’ve met so far and all of them would be willing to meet you.”

Thranduil, “On this visit?”

You shook your head, “No, not yet, a few countries are still holding their own elections, most have their former Ministers. But it would be official with plenty of advance for all the Lords if they wanted. You are considered magical races, Elves, Hobbits and Dwarves, just as we are the ones who have met you first and know you the best until you would be greeted formally and taught about our laws if something were to go wrong with one of your people traveling we would be contacted to take responsibility.”

Glorfindel, “If our people cause trouble they should be held responsible.”

“Well they would, only, see, we represent our countries when traveling, like a second set of parents, so to keep the peace between countries. Let’s say you went to Italy and got in trouble then they would contact the British Ministry, who would have you escorted back to their custody, and you would be penalized there and the British Ministry would ensure any damages be repaid or if necessary jail time be issued for any crimes committed.”

Thranduil, “That does make sense.”

Glorfindel, “How could food be harmful?”

“Certain foods, mainly with seeds could damage the plant life of another country. Like how blackberries can take over whole gardens. Also any hidden insects or animals could destroy crops from another. It can get a bit intense depending on where you travel, before Hogwarts we used to go everywhere with Regulus.” Earning nods from them.

Glorfindel, “Are they having troubles with their chimneys as well?”

“I don’t know. Our systems aren���t linked, goes along with our laws not to aparate into someone’s home, we can outside it just not inside it, so entering another country’s land has to be done legally by train or for the time being, archway. I would believe so, Britain mastered trapping the system in chimneys though I believe most are busy resettling into their shrunken cities into the copied countries on the largest island we brought. Of course their own Muggle borns have been mentally readied to blend into their cities fully with the Muggles they had saved on their own as well. There really isn’t much to England as far as monuments, a few scenic stops and forests then we have museums with galleries of items from past cultures and ages of artwork, not much past the people to make ours difficult.”

Thranduil, “Would it be best if our people do not travel your lands then?”

You shook your head, “That’s not what I meant, you’re all welcome, it would just be best if you didn’t travel alone so you’d have someone to help you through it all when you do travel, social cues and travel tips and all that, especially currency. But they can send a request to our Ministry for passports so they’ll be allowed through.”

Thranduil, “I still cannot fathom that you have no say in the matter after all you have done for all these people.”

With a smirk you replied, “Power and influence are two completely different things. Best I have no power right now.”

Glorfindel, “I trust you, our people trust you, what could there be to fear?”

“Darkness tends to linger near me. Give it time let a few shadows pop out then see where my head is and if I’m ready for power then.”

Thranduil, “You still doubt yourself?”

“I punched the King’s Cousin because he brought up that I was barefoot.” Glorfindel chortled and Thranduil smirked. “I think with the Feanoreans around I should leave the hot headedness to them.”

A whistle had you smirking in a placing of your hand on Em to keep her still in their rock forward and back again at the shifting of the train making them look out the window with lips parted. Details on trains were shared next and with the rest of the four hour drive you enjoyed the meal offered and spread out next to Em to get some sleep while the pair sat chatting about how they might share the travel news with the other Lords. Knowing some might take it as possibly offensive to not be counted as their own territories just yet until the laws are well known.

.

One final sway later and the train came to a halt with the pair across from you watching as you helped Em to put her crayons and coloring book back into her bag. Having woken when she did you had shared more of what the pair could expect of the final leg of the trip. In a reach for Glorfindel he grinned hoisting the girl up to his hip while you pocketed her bag in your mokeskin pouch. At your free side Thranduil took hold of your hand at the first glimpse of your jittery nerves wondering how the trip would go.

With the other passengers you emptied the train and through the station you strode catching more grins and comments on your arrival along with the wonder of who your guests were. The clear foot above everyone’s heads made them stick out all the more and into the cool night you eyed the car waiting for you and the media ring around it. Once you passed through the doors a comment to Em had her head turn from the wall of flashes halting you for a moment to focus on the steps it took to get to the car. Once there the driver bowed to the pair around you and opened the door in his formal greeting to them and to you, “Miss Jaqi, welcome back to Paris.”

“Thank you.”

With a nudge from you Thranduil ducked into the car and curiously gathered the tail of his shirt when you stepped in after. Glorfindel was last as the driver greeted Em, “Miss Emelienne.”

She gave a groggy wave making the man smirk and shut the door for a sure to be published in the papers. Inside the warm car Thranduil eased his feet together eyeing his knees nearly to the same level of his shoulders and he asked, “What am I in?”

Giggling to yourself for a moment you summoned your own camera to capture the scene from the front of the car you pocketed earning a playfully furrowed expression from the King while Glorfindel grinned cuddling with Em in her giggling stretch of her legs up his propped up legs amused at the difference. “This is a car.” You said as the driver climbed in and started up the car again, in the shift of gears you said, “It’s sort of like a mini train.”

Thranduil, “Could they not accommodate taller passengers?”

Patting his thigh you said, “Dew Drop, like our deer, we barely break six feet as a majority. But back home if we ever use Arthur’s flying car I will remember the expanding spell.”

Glorfindel, “Flying-,” at the pull out of the car his eyes clinched wider at the lift of the car after a couple feet of rolling forward making you smirk at the pair.

“Flying car. They live on an island just outside of Paris with the Delacour family.”

Thranduil, “If you can make flying cars, then why do trains travel on the ground?”

“Because trains don’t turn easily and are harder to hide from Muggles, who had their own flying contraptions. Cars can turn invisible and easily avoid Muggle planes.” His brow inched up and in a cloud of smoke you make a biplane with spinning propeller and said, “Anywhere from single passenger to those that can hold hundreds, and they all crossed the sky hundreds a day allowing them travel to hundreds of countries separated by oceans or miles of other countries within hours. Not even counting the rockets that went into space.”

Glorfindel, “Space? Among the stars?”

You nodded and said, “I have books at home I can share with you later on their travels. A lot of them ended badly with them dying, but we got some spectacular images and data on our stars. Some of your constellations are the same but no doubt we’ll have to consult your star charts to learn about yours. Our Astrology Professor asked about that especially so we can have a whole new course next year to fit them all in with all the new stories.”

Thranduil, “Of course, I will send a message off when we return to the others to gather their Star Seekers.” The title made you smirk in their turn to inspect the island you were flying over.

Glorfindel, “I do have to ask, why travel this way? Would your door not travel this far?”

“Oh it’s a courtesy to honor the hold on magical transport past approved means, like the train and flying cars until they have settled fully. But in Fleur’s birth it was an allowed event to justify it.”

Landed on the outer edge of the city you named all you passed for them and the pair soaked in all they could especially the size of the castle that you were being driven up to. Each foot solidifying their view as to why with their ancient bloodline you would be expected to marry well as having one of the largest homes on this island. It was a matter of status and wealth and by the group of servants out front you saw that your family had readied and that this was no doubt to be a spectacle within a spectacle leaving you to hope the pair wouldn’t hate you or them after this was all through.

All legs exited the again open door and in Glorfindel’s arm Em drew grins from the waiting line of servants who greeted her and him then grinned wider seeing you after. By the crown they assumed Thranduil was the King you had written of and they bowed again greeting him as well.

A flick of your fingers had your trunks out of your hidden pouch giving the group an excuse to break the awkward stand off to carry the belongings up to your suites. Up the steps you led the duo to the open doors where you saw Eric rolling his eyes to the sound of his parents trying to fix Roderic’s lapel. Clearing his throat however had them ushering Roderic back among the others in their big group making you tilt your head and say in French, “They are people you know, not just titles.”

That made Vivienne’s brow inch up in her approach replying with a cool grin, “You have an attachment to the pair of Lords we are merely-,”

Stepping forward you initiated a hug and sighed out, “Wearing yourself thin.” After a peck on her cheek she mirrored followed by another on the other cheek you continued, “Just breathe and be yourselves. No need for all the flair it is just a work weekend.”

Vivienne reached out to adjust your hair laying over your chest to a more flattering position, “We are old fashioned. Titles will be honored,”

“Then at least just nod your heads, they don’t do the full bow or curtsy, at least here. Tiny bit, baby steps, you’re family they want to be friends with you.”

She sighed and said, “Baby steps.”

Shifting on her feet her gaze shifted to greet Em who called out for her, “Gran Gran,”

Glorfindel stepped forward offering the girl to her flashing a weak grin and returning the much more tolerable head bow, “Lady Vivienne, you have a lovely home. We are very grateful to have been allowed to join Jaqi in this visit.”

In her hugging Em between the child’s own babbled comments she replied a bit puzzled but awed at the title used for her, “Thank you, Lord Glorfindel.”

Thranduil spoke next returning her head bow to him, “Yes, it was an eye opening voyage. The train and then the flying car. Quite marvelous ways to travel and your island seems welcoming to visitors even though we hear your family and the Delacours split rule of it.”

She smirked as you were released by Ollivier and moved on to your great uncles and their families calming each of them with hushed comments. “Yes, well it is one of the largest Wizarding inhabited portions of France.”

Inhaling sharply after formally greeting Ollivier in his step forward to her side, he asked, “If I may, I was wondering, what is your stance on Muggles?” Her brow inched up again while Ollivier claimed Em for a tight hug and peck on the cheek, “I am merely curious. We have heard so much in the short time on Jaqi and her Friends and father’s side of her family on the matter, all rather comfortable around them, however you are from a different country and culture it seems. If you do not mind that is.”

Ollivier chuckled and said, “We do not mind Muggles. Neither attacking or seeking out their company when we can avoid it. We were raised in Wizarding towns so we find ourselves in Wizarding company. Muggles have their own entertainment and topics to converse on and avoid while we find trouble with attaining the facade of comfort among them due to our seclusion from them. Though our Jaqi does try to send word of matters we might find of interest. But, this is a new Paris. Our Muggles have mainly been molded to fit our new cities and by the end of next month it all should be restored to greater than its former magnificence.”

Vivienne nodded, “Yes, and we do hope you do not find this too forward, only when we heard of Jaqi’s plan to stay with us we planned a large dinner, our Minister and his Council will be in attendance, all of whom would no doubt be very pleased to make your acquaintance if you would not mind.”

Thranduil nodded and Glorfindel stated in Thranduil’s answering Em’s question, “As would we. We have heard great things of Jaqi’s travels to France.”

Eric, “Good, and since the country is mostly Wizards now we can grant you the full tour. The film is all itemized and on the drab days we might escort you ourselves while Jaqi irons out the final details.” Secretly the pair dreaded the thought of exploring without you but learning more from the country from those who had lived here while gaining a better link to this clan did seem promising that they could aid in their relaxing around you even more outside of the resemblance to their lost child.

A tour of a glanced at garden for Em had you, Vivienne and Ollivier left behind in the hall outside the entrance allowing your partners a better view of the property while supper was being finalized. To your right your Great Grandfather asked, “Soul mates? We read your letter describing Ones, however, it is difficult to imagine a King and Lord to rely on such a system for marriage.”

Inhaling sharply to try and halt the tears prickling in your eyes after catching a stolen glance from Glorfindel your way between shaped shrubberies. “You know one of the last conversations I had with my cousin Harry alone was me telling him war isn’t a fairytale. That I wasn’t the chosen one.” Their expressions dropped and in the shadow of the ledge over the open doorway they could see the tears pooling in your eyes, and in the crack of your sobering voice their hands settled on your upper back to smooth circles into your skin, “That sometimes I don’t even get to be the ugly stepsister in my own story. They tortured me, and beat me, and burned me and stabbed me and killed me, for years! And no one said anything! Not until the very end!”

Sharply you drew in a strong breath to keep from bursting into a full sob right there. “I want, so much, to believe that I get to be happy now, I get to be safe now. I want to believe that that was there and we can be better people now,” again your voice cracked in a momentary furrow of your brows in another fighting wave of sobs threatening to surface. “I never want Em to face anything I had to, to have to live without me. That we are more than worthy of having a life where we keep dying brutally over and over again and never get anything more. You met and fell in love and it was fate. My parents had their own whirlwind romance through school. We fell here, and these two men who want nothing more than my safety and happiness said they’re my Ones, I want to believe so badly that it isn’t a lie. That they will love and cherish and protect me and Em forever. I just want to be happy. I don’t want my life story to be nothing but pain again and again, and again.”

They had moved closer and your eyes clenched shut to hold on the tears at his lean in to hug you murmuring, “They will love you? The pair of them and never hold a grudge for choosing both?”

“They say they won’t. It is quite common, triangle relationships for Elves and Dwarves. They grew up together knowing they would share my life one day. They waited so long to just meet me.”

Vivienne, “Do you think you could love them enough to bear the titles? They seem to hold you to the rank of Queen already. They refer to us with titles of our own.”

“In their minds due to my place leading the Death Eaters I am one even without our courtship. Even the Grangers, Weasleys and Malfoys have titles by link to me.”

When you looked at her she cupped your cheek with a pained but sentimental gaze, “I just want you to be happy and safe.”

“For that, I need you to help me to believe this could be real. They make me feel so safe it’s terrifying to no end. But, if they could really love me and Em I think I could do anything. Face anything.”

After a lingering peck on the side of the forehead from him he rumbled in taking your hand, “We will get you your Happily Ever After.”

Vivienne’s finger rose, “However, separate beds. No sneaking in this house.”

“It’s not like that,” you said rolling your eyes. “For them when you have sex you’re married. The moment it happens. And they can wait centuries to even meet their Ones and some never are able to get together due to rank and so many other rules their courtship has. We’re taking it slow.”

Ollivier smirked, “You are untouched then, good.”

“I may have screwed things up in your eyes with Barty but-,”

Vivienne’s finger tapped your nose, “As far as Barty is concerned you are as good as divorced. We love Em, it was not meant to last but we have Em now. We have you. Safe and happy readying to be Queen.”

“Mummy! Hippo!”

That turned your head and Ollivier stated, “Ah, yes, we had to drain all we could find into our ponds before the move. Mr Scamander is collecting them on Tuesday for their new habitats.” Crossing the garden between the pair you brought Em over to greet one of the surfaced creatures Thranduil was taking a picture of to capture Em’s giggles at petting the shimmering calf nuzzling against her chest. For the few creatures you could see in their ponds you shared their traits and stood with Em on your hip to head for the dinner now ready.

Around the lavishly set table you all took your seats with the curious Lords seated one near Vivenne and Ollivier at opposite ends of the table while you and Em were in the middle in alternating gender assigned seats for their children and other grandchildren. Each dish of the three course meal added an intrigue to the new culture shift and a shared mental game to try and pull out what exactly was in each meal. Another shock however came in their being led to their own room down the hall from yours and Em’s. A brief reveal of how to work the light switches and lamps was given by the servant in charge of guiding them there who also set the alarm for them to wake on time. It would be an early start and no doubt slightly put off at having to sleep without you and little Em within reach the pair readied for bed and spread out in their own beds under the covers forcing themselves to sleep to be with you sooner.

Pt 30