#but both of them are really particular about their hair/fur so it's not /nearly/ as bad as it should be since they keep on top of it

[soulsxng]

I can't remember if I've talked about this here before or not, but I can't find any post for it, so here it is! Both Aro and Eleare's fur and hair tend to change, depending on the seasons-- Aro's in both color and thickness, while Eleare's is primarily in thickness.

For Aro, his coat is only completely silver-white in the colder months-- which, I'll be honest, Ativere is on the slightly cooler end climate-wise, because their nights are longer than their days. This means that Aro rarely goes through a full "summer" coat change these days, like he would have when he was still in the Mortal Realm. His winter coat is extremely thick; if you were to pet him, you wouldn't be able to see your hand at all with how dense it is, as an example. Similarly, his hair in his god form is thicker, and the same pure silvery-white color throughout.

One it starts getting warmer, however, his coat thins out again, and starts introducing warmer greys and even a bits of reddish brown (reddish and warmer toned because of his dad being a red fox, while his mom was an arctic fox) into it. Again, because he never quite goes through a full coat change, this isn't as pronounced a change as an arctic fox's would be...but it's definitely still noticeable. In his god form, the color change is pretty similar, and his hair will seem a little bit wilder, in comparison.

^^^ Good example of the usual change in coat density for Aro. He doesn't get quite as poofy looking as Eleare does in the winter (though I would argue that Aro's coat is more dense if you actually touch it), but he comes pretty close!

^^^ Good indicator of color in the warmer months albeit the browns and greys have more reddish tones to them. It's more to show that the color change isn't as drastic as the top left, for example.

As for Eleare, their coat thickens and thins out in similar manner to Aro's during the change in seasons, but...

^^^ This is a good example for how much the density of their coat changes, from the warmer months to the colder ones! Their color does change a bit-- they're a more orangey color in the warmer months, a bit duller in saturation. While in the colder months, they're more red, and the color tends to be much more saturated.

^^^ That's a better indicator of their winter color...

^^^ While this is a better indicator of their summer color!

[fluffykitty149]

@empressgeekt heard you’ve been feeling down and thought you could use a pick me up! I honestly just wrote this for fun and wasn’t going to show it to anyone, but it’s the FoF + Caught In The Middle mash up I asked you about a while ago! Had a serious brain rot about it so I ended up making this snippet!

——————————————————————

The wedding ceremony was going great. It never ceased to amaze Branch of the fact that his girlfriend was able to concoct an amazing party regardless of size. She may have struggled with taking charge and staying organized for defense in the past but it’s become abundantly clear that she was and is in fact a master planner. They’d gone back and forth on whether or not Branch should wear his Forest Guardian uniform at the wedding as Branch believed since he’s head of the trolls' security he needs to be ready and Poppy argued that he should dress for the occasion but both Gristle and Bridget assured them that it was okay. It probably helped that Gristle was wearing a T-Shirt tux instead of an actual one. Poppy later confessed that she just wanted to see Branch decked out in a tuz and after a bit of blushing and some persuading kisses he agreed to maybe switch to one for the reception.

As the officiant went on with her speech a forest scout signaled for Branch to come over. Branch lightly brushed his arm against Poppy’s and when she turned to him he signaled that he had to check something out and Poppy nodded in acknowledgement and scanned the rooftops herself before looking back to the bride and groom. Once Branch checked that Keith was still in the wedding rings with his blue tuft of hair sticking out he followed the scout to the other side of the reception. “What’s the situation?” Branch asked as he and the scout climbed up a building. 

“Tresillo caught some trolls sneaking around,” the pop troll answered as they continued to climb. “3 presumably male, 1 presumably female. Pop trolls like us but I haven’t seen them before.”

That caught Branch off guard. Sure he didn’t really know everyone in the village but most of the tribe recognized each other easily. The scout continued “the female one appears to be having some sort of PTSD episode? Kinda like you used to have, she’s convinced we’re all in danger right now from the Burgens. We’ve tried explaining the Burgens don’t eat us under the decree of King Gristle and if she had concerns about a particular Burgen or group she was suspicious of but it’s more like she doesn’t know about the peace that we have now.”

Branch winced at the memories of his thankfully now rare episodes before he finally scaled the wall and found where the other trolls were “go back to your post. I’ll take it from here.” The troll took a final look at the group before they nodded and walked off. As Branch got closer he could hear the group talking animatedly and the familiarity of the male trolls’ voices made a pit drop in his stomach. ‘There’s no way that’s them,’ he said to himself in denial, as he slowed down. 

“Come on man we’re Brozone! Can’t you help us out?” That was definitely JD’s voice. Turns out Branch didn’t miss it nearly as much as he thought he did.

Branch cleared his throat and the guards surrounding the group backed off and Branch was able to get a full view of three out of his four brothers. Spruce had gotten bigger and seemed to be sporting a more beach aesthetic with his hair styled down in a sweep, Clay’s hair was green instead of yellow and curled out and was much taller than Branch remembered sporting a sweater romper. He seemed to at the time be arguing with Wani who had some of her members standing by a pink troll with one of them showing her breathing techniques. JD switched out the boyband vest and pants for a more nature-like vest lined with fur and worn green shorts. Still the same stupid goggles though. And same stupid grin. 

“Would someone from your group mind explaining what’s going on here?” Branch asked in an authoritative tone. It annoyingly didn’t seem to phase his oldest Brother. 

“Hey man, sorry to bother you with… whatever is going on here.” JD gestured with his hands. “We haven’t been around the tree in a while and we’re trying to look for our siblings.”

Branch’s crossed arms helped hide his hands squeezing his biceps. ‘A while would be the understatment of the mother fucking century’ he thought to himself.

“Would you mind explaining who you’re looking for specifically?'' Was it a good idea to pretend he didn’t know them? Probably not. DId he care at the moment? Nope.

“We’re looking for Bitty B man! From Brozone!” Thank god Branch was wearing a mask because the deadly glare he was shooting right now would be beyond suspicious. 

“I don’t know of anyone named Bitty B that lives in the village. Are you sure this sibling of yours isn't’ somewhere else?” Branch asked curtly. If JD could at the very least say Branch’s actual name he might consider telling him the truth. 

“Psh come on man, who wouldn’t know Bitty B! He’s Brozone!” 

Branch drummed his fingers against his arm “again, there’s no one here named Bitty B now if you’re just here to cause a scene at a wedding that helps signal the peace between pop trolls and Bergens then I’ll have to ask you to lea-”

Before he could finish, a pink and blond blur zipped up to him and shook him by the collar “WHERE IS MY SISTER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN PEACE WITH THE BERGENS, AND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?” 

The other scouts turned to him warily but he didn’t flinch. “Would you mind telling me your sister’s name? We can start from there.”

The woman looked bewildered at him “SERIOUSLY!? I’M TALKING ABOUT POPPY!!! DAUGHTER OF KING PEPPY!!! THAT POPPY!!!”

Now it was Branch’s turn to look bewildered “Poppy? As in the current queen?” 

Viva’s face dropped but then was brought back up “Yes! Yes her! Is she okay!? She’s not in danger is she?”

Branch’s heart seemed to be going back and forth between panicking and sinking. “No, no,” he said gently as he removed her arms away from him “she’s why we have peace with the Bergens. You’re her older sister?”

Viva’s fear turned to excitement and Branch’s heart sank furhter “Oh my gosh she did this! No way I am so freakin proud of her!” the way she bounced in excitement reminded him painfully of Poppy. ‘Peppy what did you do?’ he thought to himself while watching her stim and cheer. 

“Poppy’s busy with the ceremony right now, would you mind me grabbing your dad?” Viva’s face shifted between distraught to hopefulness and it made Branch’s heart squeeze tighter. 

“Dad’s alive?” she asks wiping a tear.

Branch nodded “I’ll just be a moment. We have multiple guards and scouts stationed on the rooftops on the venue. Even if there was a chance of a Bergen wanting to eat a troll we have contingencies in place.” He leapt off the roof of the building onto another and ran back to the reception.

Anger began to burn in his body that fueled him to run faster to the venue. He made it to where the group is and slipped in to grab Peppy’s arm. “You’re needed on the rooftop. It’s urgent.” Peppy barely had enough time to respond before Branch picked him up with his hair and ran off. The rest of the snack pack and Prince D looked somewhat baffled but turned back to the ceremony. 

It probably wasn’t professional for Branch to be running on all fours but focusing on going fast took his mind off of the interaction that was about to happen. One of the perks of traning with Smidge was that his hair was much stronger and could easily hold Peppy well enough not to hurt him as he scaled the wall. He fired a grapling gun up to help him climb with a still bewildered Peppy in his hair. “Branch?! Is everything alrgiht?” 

“Not really,” he huffed making his way up. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” Still on all fours he managed to make his way to the rooftop where Viva and his brothers were. It was definitely a tough sprint but he skidded to a stop and carefully put Peppy down. As angry as he was at the man he wasn’t going to throw him around like a rag doll.

Peppy stumbled for a second and was about to ask again what was going on when he heard a small “Dad?”

He whirled around and saw the daughter he hasn’t seen in over 20 years. “V-Viva?” he whispered shakily stumbling towards her.

“Daddy!” she cried out jumping to hug him. Branch almost stepped in incase of a fall but Peppy let his cane drop and colleceted his daughter in his arms. 

“Oh my sweet sweet girl,” he whispered holding her tightly. “I never thought I’d see you again.” he kissed her over and over again on her head stroking her curls. 

“The tunnels-” he stuttred as he pulled he away to get a better look at her. “W-we dug for hours, all we found in the ruins was your hug time bracelet. I-I thought you-” he sobbed as he pulled her tighter again. 

“I’m alive,” Viva chuckled breathlessly. “I got everyone out, it was tough but we found this old golf course to stay in! I should have gone looking for you guys I kept waiting for you to find us and I had no idea you thought we didn’t make it!” Viva sobbed as she burried her face in his neck.

“No sweetheart, it was my fault. I never should have stopped trying to look for you.” Peppy sighed as he rubbed her back.

Branch cleared his throat and Peppy’s face turned pale. “Poppy doesn’t know about her does she?”  he whispered. He hated being the bearer of bad news but it was clear what had happened. Trolls got separated during the escape and King Peppy lied about it. ‘No troll left behind’ was a total scam. A scam Poppy believed with her whole heart. It made Branch’s blood boil.

“What?”

Branch and Peppy turned back to Viva who’s face had completely dropped with her body becoming stiff. “What do you mean Poppy doesn’t know about me? I’m her sister! Of course she’d know who I am. Right?” She turned to her dad who looked completely guilty.

“I-I didn’t want her to mourn you.” Peppy mumbled fidgeting with the lapels of her jacket.

“Were there others with you who escaped?” Branch asked but Viva remained mute in shock. 

It was Clay who spoke up “there were 36 all together. With new kids we now have 40 as a group.” he said seemingly also in shock.

“Branch is everything okay? We’re supposed to be heading to the reception now.” Everyone’s head swiveled to Poppy who carried Keith on her hip.

“Cake time!” Keith shouted with raised fists and a blank stare. Everyone stared at the duo for what felt like ages before turning to Branch and bouncing back and fourth between them.

“BRANCH!?” “POPPY!” “HOLY SHIT!”

Viva rushed to hug little sister while the brothers crowded Branch asking a million questions at once. 

“YOU’RE ALIVE!?”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY WHO YOU WERE!?” “WHAT’S WITH THE OUTFIT!?”

“YOU KNOCKED UP VIVA’S SISTER!?”

“WHAT!?” Branch, Poppy, and Viva shrieked as Viva grabbed her sister tighter as she turned to Branch.

“Keith’s adopted!” Poppy said, as she tried to catch up to speed. She then turned to Viva “Hi I’m Poppy, nice to meet you. Who are you exactly?” Viva looked heartbroken while Peppy looked guiltier than ever.

“WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU THE AUDACITY TO PRESUME ANYTHING ABOUT ME!?” Branch shouted angrily as he shoved his brothers off of him.

“TOO LOUD!” Keith screamed as he clammed his ears shut with his hands. 

Branch tensed with guilt before turning back to his biological brothers. “I took Keith in about two years ago when his dad died and we see each other as each other’s brothers.” he said with an indignant huff. He then turned to Poppy. “Peppy apparently hid the fact that there were trolls left behind during the escape. Viva, your older sister gathered as many stragglers as she could and kept them hidden.” He paused to monitor Poppy’s reaction before he continued. “I’m so sorry Poppy I swear I didn’t know.”

Poppy’s grip on Keith loosened so he slid down and ran to Branch. “W-what?” She turned to her father in shocked betrayal.

“I was going to tell you I swear!” Peppy stammered. “After the rock apocalypse I realized it was wrong of me to try and hide the truth from you. You got so busy for a while so I figured I would tell you after the wedding in the tree.”

“I have a sister?” Poppy whispered as she turned back to Viva. 

Viva gave a small wave “hi Poppy,” she said as she nervously fidgeted with her hands.

“HOLY SPRINKLES I HAVE AN OLDER SISTER!!!” Poppy cheered as she scouped Viva up and spun her around. “MUSES I KNEW I FELT SOMETHING LIKE THAT!!! I WAS DRIVING EVERYONE CRAZY WITH ‘GOD I WISH I HAD A SISTER’ OR’ HAVING A SISTER WOULD LITERALLY MAKE MY LIFE SO PERFECT’ AND YOU WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME!!!”

Viva burst into tears and wrapped Poppy in a hug of equal force. “I am,” she sobbed in Poppy’s shoulder “I’m right here!” 

Both sisters tried getting a good analysis of each other’s appearance but got too excited and with another squeal tackled each other in spinning hugs and jumps.

Branch picked up Keith to check on him and thankfully now that the arguing stopped he’s seemed to calm down. “We’re not getting Bergen sized cake are we?” Keith said with a pout. “We can ask Bridget and Gristle to save us a slice.” Branch chuckled. 

“Branch, is that really you?” Spruce asked which soured Branch’s mood. 

He hissed between his teeth before turning back towards his brothers. “Yes it’s me. This is Keith, he’s my little brother and if any of you say anything negative about him I’ll throw you off the building.”

The ex-brozone members turned to Keith in different forms of bewilderment but JD was the one who snapped out of it the fastest. “Welcome to the family bro!” he was about to hug both Branch and Keith. Keith lunged to bite JD but Branch managed to hold him back. 

The brozone brothers remained stunned while Branch brought Keith back to him “I think we’d both appreciate not being hugged if its all the same to you.” he huffed as he readjusted Keith on his hip. 

JD chuckled nervously and brushed dust off him “heh, got it. My bad.”

“Why were you asking all those questions if you knew we were looking for you? It was just wasting time.” Clay asked, already tired from the journey.

“Excuse me if I’m not jumping for joy that the brothers that abandoned me at 2 randomly showed up. What the hell are you all doing here anyways?” 

The brothers looked grief stricken for a second and before Clay could explain things JD blurted out “we’re here to reunite the band and pull off the perfect family harmony!” he cheered with a fist pumped in the air. Bruce smacked a paw against his face and Clay dragged his paws against his.

"No thanks, I'd rather choke on rocks than go through that again." The only reason Branch hadn't lost his temper was the fact Keith was still with him and he'd rather not go on a screaming vent in front of him. "Good to know you assholes are alive but you can crawl back from wherever you came from and never contact me again if you wouldn't mind." Branch turned his back to his ex-brothers and headed to where the Royal family was to help them figure out how to transport and shelter the other trolls that got left behind.

Before he could walk far Clay jogged to get in front of him. “Look, we’re here because Floyd needs to be broken out of a diamond bottle. Some wanna be super stars kept him trapped in one to drain him of his talent. We got him out of Mt. Rageous where he was but we need to get him out of the bottle too. I am really sorry our reunion was shit and that our oldest brother has what I can only infer is foot-in-mouth syndrome-"

"hey!"

"But we're going to need all of us if this is going to work."

Branch stood still as he processed everything Clay had said while Keith hopped down to listen in on the Royal family's family issues. "Would you guys have bothered to come back if it wasn't for the harmony?" He muttered with fallen arms.

The other two brothers had caught up by now and heard what Branch had said. "Branch, I did come back." JD said walking towards them. Branch whirled around in shock and even the other two looked surprised. JD wasn't paying attention to them though, he only stared at Branch. "I came back a couple of years later and found the tree dead and abandoned. I spent ages trying to track you guys down but couldn't find a trace of anyone. With all that added up I wasn't sure if any of you were..." he sniffed and wiped his nose.

None of the other brothers knew what to say to that. 

JD noticed all eyes on him and forced back on a smile. "But you're all alive!" he said relief evident in his voice. He ran to hug Branch and while Branch remained completely limp in the hug he didn't push JD off him either. It was the first time Branch noticed his Brother's colors were a bit duller than they were when he was younger. He cursed not being able to properly see out of one eye. 

He managed to get JD off of him "so you want us to try and perform the perfect family harmony, something we messed up so badly you all didn't want to be a family anymore, to save Floyd from being in a trapped bottle?"

"That is verbatim why we are here yes." John said confidently. Clay and Bruce gave each other a look before gauging  for Branch's reaction.

Before he could respond Poppy slammed into him with a hug. "BRANCH I HAVE A SISTER!" she cheered with a shake. 

"Congratulations Poppy, I really hope your relationship with her is less of a train wreck than the one I have with my brothers."

"Hey!" Branch's brothers responded indignantly 

"You're fine Keith."

Keith nodded satisfied and climbed back into Branch's hair. 

"Oh my gosh I am so sorry I was totally busy with other stuff!" Poppy said turning to Branch's bio brothers. "Hi I'm Poppy, Branch's girlfriend so nice to meet you all! I had no idea Branch had brothers!" She zipped to each of the brothers analyzing their clothes, mannerisms, hair, teeth, expressions, everything. 

"Oh yeah, definitely Viva's sister." Clay chuckled. 

Poppy turned to him instantly "you really think that!?" she squealed and hugged him. Then instantly jumped off "sorry boundaries! Branch isn't much of a hugger."

"I am!" JD cheered and Poppy instantly jumped to hug him. 

"Ooh! Ooh! I want a Branch's girlfriend hug!" Bruce exclaimed with a laugh. Poppy rushed to squeeze him too.

"Okay great everyone's had a Poppy hug now can we-"

"Wait a second," Poppy interrupted further analyzing JD "I know you! You're that guy from Brozone! We were just listening to them!" 

By this time some of the snack pack had also made their way up to the roof building. "Brozone? I love Brozone!" Cooper cheered. 

"Was Brozone that boy band you showed me last week? Their music is tight!" Prince D responded.

'fuck my life' Branch thought to himself as he watched the scene unfold.

"Okay, okay, let me guess, you're definitely not the heart throb,"

"What?" JD asked bewildered by Poppy's statement. CLay and Bruce snickered in the background.

"Fun one? No you're way too uptight."

"Uptight?" JD asked now seemingly shocked as Clay and Bruce wheezed in the background. Even Branch couldn't fight back a grin on his face. 

"Not the sensitive one either..." Clay and Bruce struggled to hold back their laughter.

"Okay, a lot of presumptions for someone you'd just met." JD said now a bit offended.

Poppy tapped her foot on the ground "Oh I remember! You're John Dory!"

"The leader!"

"The old one!"

Bruce and Clay laughed shamelessly on the ground completely fallen over and even Branch couldn't hold back his snickers. JD rolled his eyes at their antics. "Put food on the table and this is what you get." he grumbled as he fixed his vest. Bruce gave a somewhat apologetic smile but Clay was beyond happy with the interaction. "Branch your girl is a keeper" Clay said as he wiped a tear away. 

"So wait if you're Brozone and Brozone were Branch's bros..." the memories of old magazines started to click into place as Poppy turned to her boyfriend with a loud gasp. She remembered how much brighter his original colors were when he's in an extremely joyful mood. "BRANCH!? YOU WERE BITTY B!? HOW COME YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!"

Branch was about to defend himself when Keith spoke up "Branch's brothers left him when he was two so he doesn't like them anymore." That brought the mood down instantly.

"Ooohhhhhh that explains so much about Branch's personality." Cooper said quietly

"Oh and the gift swap." Prince D commented.

"Oh yeah! Oh my god it makes so much more sense!" Cooper cheered

"Wait what happened during the gift swap?" Guy asked as Tiny climbed down to see everything. 

"Branch blew up his bunker." Tiny commented as he took some popcorn.

"WHAT!?" his bio brothers asked as their heads whipped towards him.

"Yeah, he was convinced that if he didn't get Poppy the perfect gift she'd leave him. He even had a little doodle of Poppy holding a suitcase saying 'goodbye forever!' on it. It was sad man." Cooper said with a shake of his head.

Clay inhaled sharply through his teeth, and it made Branch's head turn to his brother's reactions. Clay had pained expression, Bruce looked at Branch with pure pity, and JD looked at him in grief stricken horror. 

Branch struggled for what to say to them. His right arm was locked and twitched nervously as he struggled with something to say or just think. He could only try to keep his breathing steady as everyone's eye's were on him. There was a small tug on his hair that reminded him that Keith was still there and it kept him grounded.

"Branch, you okay?" Poppy asked as she made her way towards him. He focused on her to avoid the stares around him and it helped him calm down.

"Fine," he said exhausted from this terrible reunion. "There's 40 trolls all together. 36 that were with Viva and four who hatched on the course. We should probably start figuring out how to transport and shelter them."

"And contact their families," Poppy said with an excited grin. Her upper teeth stuck out a bit and Branch couldn't help but adore her beautiful smile. "We can head back to the village for now. Viva said something about one of your brothers being in a diamond bottle?" Poppy asked with a curious eyebrow raised.

"Apparently so. There's more than just Bergens out to get us." The crowed grew a bit tense at that. It had only been 20 years since they escaped and it barely passed the one year of peace. The fact there were more creatures out there was terrifying for all of them.

"I'll talk to King Gristle about keeping an eye out for Rageons. Did anyone here get a proper view of them?" Poppy asked.

"I kinda drew what they looked like," Clay said as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his hair. "I gave a copy to one of the guys at the course."

Poppy took the drawing from Clay. "Awww they look so cute though." Poppy cooed.

"Theyre about as tall as the average Bergen though, that's way less cute." Clay commented.

"Oooohh look at my fabulous little sister taking charge!" Viva said as she slide over to where Poppy was. Poppy immideatly jumped to a hug that Viva was more than glad to reciprocate. 

"Awww thanks Vivs! I'm just gonna hand this to Gristle and- OH GOD I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE WEDDING!" Poppy shouted as she smashed her paws against her cheeks. "Sprinkles they could be waiting for us! God I'm the worst Maid of Honor ever! I need to go ASAP!" Poppy picked up her skirt to run but Viva grabbed her by the arm and stopped her.

"WAIT YOU CAN'T GO!" Viva exclaimed terrified.

Poppy raised an eyebrow "Why not? I'm the Maid of Honor if I'm not there I can't help if there's a disaster and then Bridget's wedding will be ruined and It'll be all my fault and I-"

"Easy Poppy!" Guy said as he took her hands "We told Bridget that there was a situation and to go on without us, if things seem fine you, Branch, and your families can head back to the Village." He then straightened up and hammered a fist to his chest. "As life of the party I solemnly swear to make sure that this wedding after party is at maximum level fun for all!" Epic music played in the background.

Poppy stared in an awed daze for a moment before going back to a nervous twitch "ugh! I'd never doubt your party skills Guy, but I feel like such a let down as a maid of honor! I should be there for Bridget every step of the way! I'm like a 'maid of not honor'!" She exclaimed as she dragged her paws down her face. 

Branch hated the amount of stress Poppy was under "I'm sure Bridget would understand." He said as he gently took Poppy's shoulder. "Just give her a quick run down of the situation and ask King Gristle to have his guards keep an eye out. Then while I deal with my brothers mess, we can also check on our defenses and notify the other tribes about the Mt. Rageouns."

"Yeah, you're right, we should definitely give the other tribes a heads up," Poppy mumbled as she tugged on her lower lip. "Alright fine," she sighed. "It's not every day you find out you have a long lost sister, I'm sure Bridget would understand." Poppy then turned to Viva "I do really need to go see her and give her and her husband- still can't believe they got married!" Poppy squealed excitedly "a 411 and we can totally catch each other up when she gets back from her honeymoon but I can't leave without saying goodbye!" She pleaded, as much as she loved Viva she'd rather not be forced to stay on the rooftop any longer. 

"I- You can't just-" Viva fidgeted with her rubber hands antsily. She wasn't trying to make her sister feel bad, or piss off any Bergens for that matter. But the thought of Poppy with those beasts terrified her.

Almost as if she could read Viva's mind, Poppy took her hands in hers "I promise, those two are some of the sweetest Bergens I've ever met." Poppy said encouragingly. "Bridget was willing to risk her neck to save us, and I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for her. And Gristle has been working hard to not only fix relations between us and help protect us, but also keep his subjects super happy!" Poppy cheered which jostled Viva a bit.

"It's okay if you're still uncomfortable around them, not every troll in the Village came to the wedding you know? I just gotta explain things to Bridget and Gristle. You can come if you want!" Poppy then tuned excited. "You'd love Bridget, she's such a sweet heart! And trust me Gristle is totally chill!"

"Poppy nearly took out his eye when she tried pitching holidays to him," Branch commented mirthfully "he was still willing to help decorate for the holidays and even helped trim the troll tree. If Poppy could get away with that I think you'll be fine."

"What?" Viva asked with a shocked laugh.

"Ugh! Come on Gristle brings it up less than you do at this point!" Poppy pouted and kicked a nonexistent pebble. Her faux upsetness melted away when she heard Viva laugh a bit more freely.

"Okay, how about I keep an eye from a distance? That way if for whatever reason they do decide to eat you I can grab you and dash." Viva asked as she pulled out her sticky hands.

"Okay 1. Those look so cool please teach me how to use them later, and 2. I totally respect you gotta do what you gotta do to keep calm but if it helps Branch has a bunch of his guards stationed all around. It's how you guys didn't get all that far remember?" 

Viva drummed her fingers in thought "that's a good point... but I think I'll keep an eye out just incase okay?"

Poppy shrugged her shoulders "no problem! Oh my gosh I have got to introduce you to Bridget I swear you're gonna love her!" She took her sister's hand to run to where the reception was. "Branch try not to kill your bio brothers while we're gone!" Poppy shouted as she and Viva ran over rooftops.

"No promises!" Branch waved back.

[mistfallengw2]

*peeks around your door*

Can you tell us about Aurelia's haircare routine?

Tl;dr: her haircare routine is a mess that tries to be functional, just like her.

For most of her time in the Legions, her routine with hair used to be cutting it short frequently and just... not really dealing with it beyond general fur hygiene. Fur already ends up getting matted with all sorts of grime and bloody bits during battles, and that's already a lot of effort to take care of during deployment on the frontlines. Maintaining a long mane makes it even worse, with the added malus of it being a safety hazard, especially against Flame Legion. Aurelia was far from unkempt, but it took one time of her letting it grow longer and stinky while on a long mission, then being power-washed by her elementalist mate made the routine stick hard.

The only exception was during the year and a half when she was pregnant with Adamas and reared him. The warband was on break from active duty due to their Legionnaire needing a long recovery from the wounds obtained during a mission that nearly ended in disaster for them all, so there was a lot of guarding and patrolling in uneventful safety for many months. Aurelia's mane grew longer since she had no reason to cut it, so Ardea started taking care of it for her and braiding it out of boredom, which eventually led to the first learning the tricks to keep it nice and clean even on the battlefield (feeding a cub has roughly the same effect on a smaller scale). Still, once Aurelia returned to active duty and her cub joined the fahrar, the rest of her mane was cut short again (it took two bloody battles to make her feel like she was wasting time), with the exception of the little braid on the side of her face that was first made by Adamas.

Any sort of haircare routine went out of the window during her years in the Mists, and she came out of there with the worst tangled mess imaginable. During her stay at Markus's mother's farm, they opted to shear that matted mop off of her head after a miserable attempt at washing and combing it out. Aurelia was completely out of it and did not remember anything, but she asked the kid to save the remnant of the little braid and redo it. A wee timeskip later, she had her mane cut short again when she returned to the Vigil, then she kept it presentable as it grew out during the whole Pact thing. On various people's suggestions (mostly about improving the Commander's image), she still trimmed her mane every now and then, but it was left a bit longer each time. She never did anything special, just quickly washed with what was available and brushed it, because any time spent with her own thoughts was highly uncomfortable. She occasionally let Adamas or Ellara help her out, both because they had better haircare routines than her and because company kept bad thoughts away.

Going through a murderous jungle made Aurelia kinda want to rip her mane out along with all the leaves, branches and sap that ended up in there, but she was convinced to give braiding a try. She still wanted to cut it all off, but her slowly improving mental state allowed her to adapt more easily to taking care of it properly, and she had to concede that it was a comfortable alternative. By S3 (in my headcanon it starts a year after HoT) she had more complex braids, and in S4 (after salvaging what wasn't seared to a crisp) she started gathering all her mane in one bigger braid, switching styles every once in a while and keeping it at a comfortable length.

In all of that, Aurelia never really developed a proper "routine", as any particular product or tool suggested to her had a tendency of getting lost or forgotten somewhere within a few months at most, and during Commander duty time for personal care was limited. Her mane was always fairly healthy and thick, so she never really needed to do much about it.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Phoenixeclipse College AU Pt 1

Clumsy Waitress

Phoenix is a college student trying to make ends meet working at a cafe and a nightclub. She is trying to keep herself up and out of as much debt as she can while taking care of her niece Bai He. She finds herself in more trouble than she expects when she catches the attention of two monkey demons.

“You really got yourself a keeper,” Ma said slapping Liu on the back as his mate set down the freshly made fruit pastries onto the table.

Liu was one of Sun Wukong’s best friends. He was a dark grey monkey demon who was about an inch shorter than himself with fluffy fur and a short tail. He was also one of the few monkey demons that he knew had a blue facemask surrounding his eyes. It wasn’t something seen often by Wukong but it was interesting.

Sun Wukong watched his generals all laugh at the brightly red-faced Liu, his normal blue facemask had turned almost purple with the addition of his flustered face. He couldn’t help but laugh along as he leaned on the table, glancing over at his mate who was staring down at a large book. With a smirk he leaned over his shoulder to see he was studying poisonous plants, of course he was.

“Thank you for the compliment, but I’m not the one who made these ones,” Scarlet or Scar as most called her laughed with a smile across her face.

Scarlet was a young monkey demon was dark brown eyes, bright red fur and a dark brown face mask that surrounded her eyes. A simple monkey demon who always wore a smile and loved to take care of her café. She was very particular about the way it looked and how it was set up but overall, she was a rather nice woman. A lovely companion for Liu, who was still super flustered at all the attention on him.

“Oh? Then who made these delectable dishes?” Ma asked as she took a bite into the pastry.

“That would be Phoenix,” The red furred waitress explained pointing a thumb towards the kitchen before a loud crash was heard. “PHOENIX!” Scarlet shouted as she ran around the corner.

She didn’t even make it to the kitchen before a young woman ran out of the kitchen with dust covering her face. Waving her hands around she tried to calm Scarlet down.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s okay. I just… might have bumped into a few things,” She chuckled with a blushed.

The crash was loud enough to make Macaque look up from his book and over to the waitress who was covered in flour and what appeared to be water. Wukong looked at her too, a clumsy new waitress it seemed, it was the first time either of them had seen her. Then again they hadn’t been to the café in the past two weeks due to… certain demons trying to ruin their hard work.

The waitress was rather tall compared to them, with dark, fluffy, brown hair that fell down below her ankles. Dark pink eyes glittered with joy and she had roses and red feathers littered through her fur. She wore a simple red dress with a yellow apron that reached just above her knees, rather modest compared to most of the cafes around this street. She was absolutely adorable.

Wukong looked back to see Macaque also staring at her and he smirked. It looked like his mate had the same idea; she would be fun to toy with. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone after all.

“Oh Phoenix, you worry me so much sometimes,” Scarlet sighed when she realized no one was hurt. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

“Thank you, but I don’t need any help,” Phoenix muttered a cute blush covering her face.

“Nonsense, you look like a mess dear,” The cafés owner responded as she shooed her to the bathroom.

That’s when the group saw the waitress bump into one of the tables and nearly knock it over. She squealed and her face flushed as she rushed to stop it from falling over. She was clumsy too, how adorable. Both monkey kings chuckled as they watched her get pushed into the bathroom.

“She’s cute,” Wukong whispered just loud enough for his mate to hear.

He received a nod of affirmation. It wasn’t often that they wanted to flirt with someone besides each other but when they did, they both already knew the rules. They both had to agree with who they flirted with and that there would be no falling in love. They had never gone past flirting with someone else as they were both very loyal mates to each other and that’s how they liked it to be.

When the monkey demoness came back out she was scurrying around cleaning up the mess she made. Her footsteps were light as she hummed a very soft tune. It was relaxing watching her work as their friends laughed and ate together.

“Hey boss, I just got a call,” Ba spoke up with an irked expression.

As soon as he said that both of the Monkey Kings groaned but stood up none the less. Macaque had been so distracted by the waitress that he left his book as the group walked out of the door. Fortunately, they were stopped before they could get very far.

“Excuse me, hey sorry. You forgot this,” Phoenix said as she ran up to the six eared monkey.

Macaque blinked in surprise as the book was handed to him by the cheerful woman. When she handed it to him, he recognized just how much taller she was. Damn she was hot. She was slightly bent over, and his face was almost staring directly at her chest.

“Ehem, thank you, but we really need to leave,” Ma said grabbing Macaque’s hand and pulling him away.

“Oh, yes. Sorry about that,” Phoenix chuckled nervously not noticing how both the golden monkey and the six eared monkey stared at her with interest. She had a lot of guts to talk to them without any regard for her own safety.

Both Wukong and Macaque turned away and left without another word. She was very sweet, and quiet compared to most they had met around here. At least for someone who was willing to talk to them without a speck of fear.

 As Phoenix turned to once again enter the café she bumped into another table letting out a squeal as she worked to fix it up before anyone came over to help. She was really, really clumsy. She could only hope no one else noticed but more than likely a lot of people noticed.

>>><<< 

Phoenix grumbled as she stared at the book in her hands. How was she supposed to memorize all of these plants before the end of the night? The test was tomorrow, and she had barely had time to study. She held in a groan as she flipped to the next page, sitting in a far corner of an old library she tried to concentrate on the words in front of her.

“What do we have here?” A voice purred next to her causing her to jump in surprise.

She whipped her head around only to come face to face with the golden monkey demon she had seen earlier that day in the café. She was surprised to see him and rather annoyed that someone was interrupting her. Even so she didn’t let her anger show.

“Do you need something?” She asked with a warm smile.

“Your number would be nice,” another voice purred from her other side as a pleasant heat nestled itself next to her. Turning she saw the six eared monkey. She had no idea what either of them were doing here or what they wanted. Wait… Did he just ask for her number!?”

“E-excuse me?!” She stuttered a blush immediately covering her face.

“Your number. We would like your number,” The first one said right next to her ear.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Phoenix responded trying to remove herself from the situation as quickly as possible, but it seemed that these two had other plans.

“Sun Wukong,” The golden monkey introduced himself with a light bow.

“Macaque,” The six eared monkey responded with a grin.

“Um. Listen I don’t really give my phone number out,” She said with a stutter. How was she supposed to decline these two, especially when they were so close.

“Awe, what a pity,” Macaque grumbled but backed away none the less, his tail grazing her leg as he moved away.

“Too bad, well I suppose we’ll see you in class some time,” Wukong shrugged his own tail mimicking the way Macaque’s did.

A shiver ran down Phoenix’s spine. She didn’t know weather it was a good thing that it did or not. She didn’t know if they were threats but she figured it would be best to stay as far away from them as possible. She barely nodded as they both walked away and a weight was lifted off of her shoulders letting her relax. That was… strange, to say the least.

Normally when people flirted with her it was when she was working at the club, and they were offering her money in exchange for sexual favors. Neither of the monkeys had done that, shaking her head she tried to reason with herself, not everyone was like that. Even though she wasn’t sure what they wanted she didn’t need to assume that these two were like everyone else. They had backed off as soon as she said no after all.

Yeah, they couldn’t possibly be that bad. Right? RIGHT!?

Phoenix doesn't have anything to worry about with these two innocent monkey demons, right? They're just innocently flirting with her.

College AU Pt2

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 17

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: Family bonding time! We get to know your brother and meet someone we didn’t expect. Beta by @zaria-04

Happy Chr’ms! It’s Chrismin! Merry Crisis and Merry Chrysler!

Chapter 17: A gathering of witches

A lunar convergence is a rare and festive event and you dress accordingly. There are several layers: a pretty linen dress, one of your favorite, hugging all the right spots of your body. Over it there is a bodice, something that unfortunately is not in fashion right now, if you would step out on the street with it. At the same time, it makes a really good figure. Last but not least, you put a fur overcoat around your shoulders, because the night will get cold.

Your outfit represents who you are, your status as a witch. You put on several rings, all filled with magic. Today you don't plan to use them, just wear them because you like them. In your hair you have coiffed a single feather of a kite. It is the symbol of your family. Traditionally, everyone wears a badge that indicates their bloodline.

You take a look in your mirror and are pleased with what you see.

It is time to leave. You step through the portal door and arrive at your sister's house in the hallway. You hear her and your brother's voices in the living room and you enter.

"You've never been on time before, Gabe," you grin broadly to the young-looking man, who looks up and chuckles at your words.

"Times change."

You hug them both in greeting. You haven't seen your brother in ages.

He is tall and slender, almost lanky, and has orange hair. His father was Irish and you can see Gabriel's ancestry.

Appropriately, and for today's occasion, he wears a kilt and matching high socks. His shirt reveals his chest, over which hang several necklaces with feathers, wooden beads and bones. The left sleeve of his shirt is sewn shut just below the shoulder due to a missing arm. His hair was shoulder length the last time you saw him, but now it is cut. A little longer on top, a little shorter on the sides, and coiffed in a modern style.

Gabriel is the youngest out of the three of you, born in the first half of the 19th century, just before there was a great famine in Ireland that nearly halved the country's population.

There's a bigger gap in age between you and your sister. Maybe that's why she likes to take on the caring role of big sister so much.

"I heard you moved to another continent," he says, turning to you.

"Just professionally," you relent.

"Oh, I've heard a lot about that profession," he grins at you.

You roll your eyes. News travels fast between you siblings. Elizabeth, in particular, likes to take it upon herself to keep you all up. She's wearing a similar outfit to yours, but traditionally high-necked while your dress is lower-cut, and instead of a fur, she's reaching for an embroidered mantle.

"That reminds me, I have something for you," Gabriel says, reaching into his pocket from which he pulls a small vial that he hands to you. It seems filled with water and something shimmery in it as you hold it up to the light.

"What's this?"

"A mermaid scale."

"No way!" you exclaim. "How did you get that?!"

The brother grins self-righteously. "I helped some of them escape and got gifts in return," he explains. You just shake your head at that. He always has adventurous stories to tell.

"Did you get a kiss? Nah, you wouldn't tell me anyway. But thanks for the scale." You smile beamingly at him and stow the vial in your pocket. Components of mermaids were really hard to get because they are shy and also stubborn creatures. And as pretty as they are, they are equally dangerous.

"Shall we?" asks Elizabeth and you nod, following her to her workroom. On the way, your brother leans toward you.

"Unfortunately, I did not," he whispers to you. "Maybe next time."

You chuckle as he winks at you.

A ritual circle is painted on the floor in Elizabeth's study and you step in it. The three of you join hands and after exchanging one last glance, you all begin to recite the same spell.

Under your words, the circle begins to glow. A breeze comes up, the smell of freshly cut grass is in the air. For a moment your vision is obscured by mist, then it clears and you are suddenly standing in nature.

It is a wide field at the foot of a hill. A well-trodden path leads up. People keep appearing around you, alone or in small groups. They are all magically gifted, most of them some kind of witches, but not exclusively. Only some are from Earth, many from other realms.

You start walking uphill.

The higher you get, the more plants grow around you until they condense into a small forest. You come to an open gate that almost looks like a circular piece of wall. Over time, moss and fern have settled on it, giving it something fairy-like. Like a gate to another world.

Behind it, the path changes to wide, stone steps that lead you further up the forest until it suddenly ends and you reach a large meadow. It is the top of the mountain, a sacred place.

Some larger rocks stick out of the grass. In the center of the place, five roughly hewed obelisks stand in a circle and the ground there is not grass but rough stone.

You are familiar with this place. The convergence happens once every one hundred years and it is already your third festival.

Your siblings and you make a circuit of the meadow, nodding every now and then to greet familiar faces.

Finally, you find what you are looking for: your mother, standing with some women and talking.

You walk toward her, and although she has her back to you, she turns to face you and comes a little toward you.

"Hello, children," she greets you kindly, but not warmly. She grabs each of you in turn by the hands and kisses you on the cheek. First Elizabeth, then you, then Gabriel.

It's the first time you've seen her in years - mostly she stays out of your lifes - and you notice she looks older. The small wrinkles around her mouth and eyes are evidence of that, and it's getting harder to guess her former hair color under the gray. For a witch to have such signs of aging, she must have reached a significant age - or gotten involved with the wrong spells.

"I'm glad you're all here. It's going to be a lovely evening."

If she says that, it must be true, because she's a seer. That's one of the reasons you don't talk to her much. There's not much to tell her that she doesn't know anyway. For today, though, her words are a good prediction.

"I'll see you later," Gabriel says. "I have a date."

That's the cue for you to split up. Before you can leave, too, though, your mother stops you. "Ah, before I forget, there's someone I want you to meet."

"Sure," you say, a little surprised, and follow her to the women you were standing with earlier. She waves to one of them, who then joins you.

You've never seen her before. She looks friendly with a certain warmth. She wears a flower crown on her upswept blonde hair, and her elegant dress is an indicator that she must be a person of respect. Her gaze moves from your mother to you and she eyes you curiously, almost scrutinizing. Then she smiles. "Now I understand why you suggested inviting my son," she says to your mother, then turns back to you, "Come, child, let's take a walk."

With each of her words, you become more and more confused and merely nod. You're used to your mother speaking in riddles and this woman here seems to be expressing herself similarly. You're curious to hear what she has to say.

"I've heard a lot about you," she begins.

"I wasn't aware that my mother talked much about her children," you admit, but the woman shakes her head.

"It wasn't her, but my son who told me about you."

Astonished, you look at her. "I don't think I understand. Who is your son?"

"I should introduce myself first," she realizes. "I am Frigga, mother of Loki and Thor."

You stop as if rooted to the spot and your eyes widen in surprise. Your first thought is that the Queen of Asgard is standing before you. With your second thought, you wonder why your mother knows her. You blink as you realize you are staring at her and quickly avert your gaze so as not to be rude. "Forgive me, I did not expect to meet you here, your Majesty."

She seems amused by your behavior, but nods in satisfaction at the courtesy. "Call me Frigga, child. We are not in the palace and I am not here as queen." She starts moving again and you follow her. "You probably don't realize it, but Loki and I have kept correspondence ever since he went to Midgard. My younger son prefers to keep to himself, but he mentioned a Witchling he met. And from what I've heard from other places as well, you seem to be very supportive of him."

You smile at the mention of Loki's nickname for you. You really weren't aware that he was writing to his mother and it touches your heart that he told her about you. "I'm merely a friend," you say.

"That's the best thing he can ask for," the queen replies. There is a short pause in which you process what you have just heard and she looks at you from the side. Then she addresses her next question carefully to you. "Did you two fight?"

Questioning how she knows about that, you turn your head to her.

"When I finally saw him again and talked to him, I was surprised to find him in a bad mood. I thought he was doing well and that his time on Midgard had done him good. But he seems almost heartbroken. He doesn't talk about it and I wonder if you know anything about it."

You sigh as you remember your argument with Loki and nod a little ashamedly. You should have talked to him before you left.

"This is my fault," you tell her, "I made… Well, it's not exactly a mistake. I had some things to sort out and I took too long for it. Loki heard words out of their context. I guess it's a big misunderstanding."

Frigga nods in understanding. "My son has a brilliant mind, but sometimes he acts and judges hastily."

"I am sorry to have caused you concern. I will talk to him as soon as I get back and explain everything to him."

"Why wait so long?" Frigga asks, standing still. You stop as well, puzzled by her words. Does she expect you to return to New York immediately? Well, you can't contradict a queen. But you notice that she's not looking at you, and as you follow her gaze, you spot Loki sitting under a tree in the distance.

It seems like today is full of surprises.

"I'll let you two to it. You seem to have a lot to talk about."

You watch her turn around and leave. Then you look back at the prince. You hesitate, not knowing what to do while being so suddenly confronted with the consequences of your behavior. But Loki has already spotted you and his mother and stands up.

Slowly you approach him.

His expression is unreadable, but you are sure that inside him is the same chaos of emotions as in you.

Like his mother, he wears fine Asgardian clothing that looks distinguished and noble. No armor, it seems more appropriate for a ball or similar event. His hair is neatly coiffed back, some strands even braided. He wears a similar flower crown as his mother on his head. You wonder if it is the sign of their family. It seems almost too plain for a royal family. You also wonder if he made it himself.

"What are you doing here on Vanaheim, Witchling?" he asks you. His tone is neutral, almost bored. But he can't fool you.

"The same as you obviously. Listen, I wanted to apologize about our fight." You mean your words sincerely, and you hope he senses that. "I didn't seduce you for the job, to make you hand-tame and keep you under control. Tony doesn't know what he's talking about, you have to believe me."

Loki's expression remains unmoved and he crosses his arms. "You said it was a mistake."

You're confused for a moment and have to think about your conversation, but then you remember how you stormed out of his suite. "Oh shit, I did!" it escapes you, "No, let me explain. I didn't mean the thing with..." You gesture between you, not knowing how to name it. "I meant the fact that I got paid to work with you. I don't want you to think that I manipulated you. That money is the only reason I'm standing by your side."

"It's not?" asks Loki.

You nod. "I quit."

"Is that why you didn't show up yesterday?" Loki's voice changes to an angry hiss. "You disappeared without another word?"

Horrified, you stare at him. "What, no! Oh boy, we have so much we need to talk about." You take a deep breath to get your thoughts in order. "First of all, I took a few days off because of my work at the Cottage and the Lunar Convergence. I wanted to tell you, but then we were already arguing. Theoretically, you could have heard it when I was talking to Tony, because obviously you overheard that conversation." You look at him, but he doesn't look as if he's embarrassed by that accusation. Rather like he's waiting for the rest of your explanation. "I quit, but I want to continue my work with you. Only without being paid. Just as a friend. Shall we sit down somewhere, perhaps?" you suggest, but Loki does not respond to that question. At least your words seem to calm him down a bit.

"I don't understand," he says, turning away, looking at the forest. "Don't you Midgardians need a job and money in order to survive?"

"I'm not your average Midgardian," you remind him, trying to keep your patience with him. "I'm a witch and I've survived for almost three hundred years, so I think I will manage."

Loki tilts his head, closing his eyes. "So, you are staying as a friend?" he asks again, emphasizing the last word comically.

"Yes, Loki, a friend," you nod. "Don't you have this concept on Asgard?"

"We do."

"Excellent. Then you know how it works."

Loki turns his head back to you, hesitating briefly with what he says next. "What if I don't want to be friends with you?"

Your face falls and your shoulders slump. "I… would understand it. Friendship needs trust. But it would make me sad." Somehow you're not already giving up on him just yet. He has a hard time opening up to people, and pulls back much faster. But your time together must mean something. Now it's you looking longingly toward the forest. There's something reassuring about the old trees. "I like you, Loki."

The Asgardian steps closer to you, puts his fingers on your cheek and turns your head to look at him. "I thought we were already more than friends," he murmurs. "Unless it was just a game for you after all."

You give a soft ’oh’ as you understand. "We can be… friends and more. Why not both?" You are mumbling, almost rambling. Fortunately, Loki interrupts you with a kiss. It's only brief, but it's enough to make you fall silent.

"I'd like that," he murmurs, kissing you again, more desperately this time. As if he's afraid you're about to disappear after all.

"Great, me too." This time it's you who briefly interrupts the kiss, but your lips are immediately back on his. You are smiling.

So are the two women standing on the other side of the field, watching you from afar. Satisfied with the outcome of the night, your mothers exchange a look.

___________________________

Mothers™, playing matchmakers since anno thirteen-hundred-two-teen.

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23 @ozymdias @huntress-artemiss @thedistractedagglomeration @rosaline-black @sofi786 @moonlightreader649 @paetonnn @eldriidd @r4inlov3r @eleniblue @eleniblue @maeisonline @marvel-love24 @sinsandguilt @kalinaselennespeaks @ohtellmelove @eleniblue @msrawog @hyojin-2579

If you wanna be added/removed dm me, comment or send a raven

[your-local-grubdog]

Never Been Away so Long

At last, her husband has come home. There's so much to talk about, but he seems unwilling to say much at all.

New part to startouched AU! This was a difficult one for me to write for some reason? But I’m fairly happy with how it came out.

Read on Ao3 here!

Rose was pacing the length of the living room, equal parts frustrated and excited. It had been far too long since her husband had last been home. He'd gone out for a quick delivery run, then a vacation, then immediately set upon another task. In total, he's been gone for nearly two months now. At most he'd be gone a week or two at a time before, maybe a late dinner here and there. But two whole months of him not being here was just too much. She knew it wasn't quite Olimar's fault. The company was at risk of shutting down and if Olimar lost his job… she didn't want to think about that, really. But she was still annoyed at the situation as a whole. All that time gone was too much of a toll on her and the kids. They had to sort something out.

Her ears wiggled as she heard the sound of a door unlocking. She turned to the front door as it slowly opened, taking a deep breath as she willed herself for what would probably be a rough conversation. Whatever she had to say died in her throat, however, as Olimar slowly stepped inside. It looked as if the great gods below had torn her poor husband asunder, with heavy bags under his eyes and the lower half of his left ear gone. His fur also seemed duller than it was supposed to be, a sure sign that he either hadn't had proper meals or proper sleep over the past few weeks. Probably not both, it wasn't that dull… unless it was in the early stages. "Hey, honey." He managed a small smile, but his voice sounded so tired.

At a complete loss for words now, she simply pulled him into a tight hug. He winced but still hugged back as well. It felt almost like he was leaning on her, he was just so heavy in her arms. Eventually she managed to pull back, her ears now drooping as she gently touched her husband's left cheek. "Oli, your ear…"

"I'm alright," he assured her as he put a hand on her shoulder. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise."

"But - you look so tired - and - honey, what happened?"

Before Olimar could respond though, the sound of many little feet rushed down the stairway. "PAPA!"

"Kids! Y-You're up early-"

The two little ones ignored their mother in favor of running straight to their father for tight hugs. Olimar seemed to brighten then, his smile growing wider and uneasiness fading from his face as he knelt down to Luna's level. He ruffled both kids' hair. "Ah, there's my favorite rascals. How have you been?" 

"M-missing you." Nova managed out, squeezing his father tighter. Olimar winced again and frowned, brushing the boy's hair back.

Luna quickly nodded as well, trying to snuggle in next to her brother. "You were gone for so long!"

"... I know." Olimar quietly managed out. "And I'm sorry. That shouldn't happen again, it was just an unlucky coincidence. Okay?"

The kids nodded, still clinging tightly to their father. Nova paused a moment before managing out a quiet "okay". It was soon followed up with "Wait - Papa, your ear-"

"I'm alright buddy, I promise."

"But half of it is-"

"I know it looks scary. But please, just trust me when I say it's okay." He gently planted a kiss on both of their foreheads. "I have such an exciting story to tell you all. But first: I got you all gifts!"

At that the kid's eyes lit up. "Really?"

She expected this. When he emailed her saying he was on his way home, he said he'd pick up gifts for them all. He also asked for her permission to get Luna something in particular. After just a bit of convincing, she went ahead and agreed to it. 

Olimar nodded, reaching into his bag. "Nova can go first. Here…" he handed the young boy a small figurine of a green frog, seemingly made from polished scrap metal. It was hard to make out what it used to be before, but whatever it was had a frog snapped logo on it. The eyes were made of some kind of yellow dyed crystal. "Saw it at a lil' shop, thought you'd like it."

Nova squeaked, smiling wide. "Oh! Thank you!!! Thank you so much!!!" He had it cupped in his hands, as if he was holding an actual frog, though it was much smaller. 

Olimar nodded gently ruffling his hair a bit before turning to Luna. "Alright Luna, here you go-" Olimar was beaming as he pulled out a small white mouse plush. "Just like you asked for, see?" He flipped it over to show its underside, where velcro could be seen. Opening it up revealed a very cartoonish rendition of its insides, akin to what you'd see on a kid's edutainment show.

Luna's eyes went wide as she reached out for it. "OH SHE'S PERFECT!!!" She held it close to her, a goofy smile plastered across her face. "Thank you Papa! Now I can go and make her feel better! See why she has a tummy ache!!!"

Olimar ruffled her hair affectionately. "Ah, such a good little doctor. You let us know how that goes, okay?"

"Veterinarian." She corrected him with a whiny squeak and a tight hug. "And yes!!! I will!!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!"

Olimar's smile only seemed to grow wider. He then stood up again, pulling out a small box. "This was being sold at the same trinket shop Nova's frog came from." He opened the box, revealing a hand-made beaded necklace. It was turquoise, with three triangles made of woven beads hanging from it. The centers of each had four bronze beads in the shape of a diamond. 

Rose reached out and gently touched the smooth beads. She couldn't say it was her usual style, but whoever made it clearly put a lot of love into it. "Oh goodness, it's beautiful! Thank you so much!"

Olimar nodded quickly, his smile at this point livening up his face. He didn't look as tired, but still worn down. "Ah… it doesn't quite fit what you're wearing today, but can I put it on you anyways?"

Rose nodded, tuning around and letting her husband clasp it around her neck. She watched him in the hallway mirror as he did so. He was right, it didn't match the best with what she wore, but it didn't matter. She touched it again when he was done. "Oh, it looks so pretty dear. Thanks again. Now that everyone's really awake, would you all like breakfast?"

She was greeted with three equally squeaky "yes!"s. Chuckling, she nodded her head. "Alright, I'll be just a bit. Kids, go ahead and get dressed."

It wasn't long before everyone was ready and breakfast was done. A pot of coffee was also brewing, and wouldn't take much longer. Rose and Olimar hummed a bit as they worked together to serve the eggs she made.

Olimar and Luna got scrambled eggs. Luna’s were lightly seasoned, but Olimar… well, his breakfast was almost more ketchup than egg. Trying to season it would be a waste. Rose had fried eggs, the yolk still a little runny. Nova had gotten up to get himself some cereal. He hated eggs, insisting they were “slimy” regardless of how his mother (or anyone else for that matter) prepared them. He brought back what he usually had; a dry bowl of chocolate cereal and a glass of milk to the side. He never poured the milk in the cereal, they always stayed separate. 

Rose poked at her eggs a bit, eyeing her husband nervously. “So, could you tell us about your trip dear?”

“Hmm?” Olimar looked up, food still in his mouth. He swallowed before smiling nervously. “Ah, yes… uh, hmm, where to start…”

By this point both kids looked towards their father intently. 

“Uhh…” Olimar still seemed lost in thought, sending small red flags to Rose. He normally didn’t have trouble recalling these kinds of stories. “Well, I realized I… had to make some emergency repairs to the Dolphin. So I-I…landed on the nearest planet to do some work.” 

The kids seemed sucked into the story already, watching with wide gleaming eyes. Rose, however, just looked on with worry. He never struggled with his stories so much before, it was almost as if he was making details up on the spot.

“I realized I’d be stuck there for a bit but thankfully I wasn’t alone!” He seemed to relax then, now having an easier time speaking. “There I met the pikmin! They helped me repair my ship, and so I made my way straight back home!”

“Pik…min?” Nova asked, head tilted slightly. 

Olimar beamed at that, now ignoring his meal to clap his hands together excitedly. “Ah yes! Pikmin are these small little creatures, most barely make it past my hip in height, though some reach my chest. One species is so small that they only make it to about my knee height! Er, all of that being measured to the top of their head. They have stems on their head and it can make them seem taller. Anyways, anyways, they’re half plant and half animal and look a little like the Pik-Pik branded carrots we get which is why I called them pikmin-”

“Wait, you named them?” Luna squeaked out. 

Olimar nodded. “Ah, did I mention the planet was uncharted…? It seems they haven’t had any interstellar visitors ever. I may have been the first-”

“THAT’S SO COOL!” Nova spoke out this time, bouncing in his chair a bit.

“... yeah, yeah I guess so!” Olimar was smiling wide now, already seeming so much happier. It was relieving to Rose. “Anyways the pikmin speak an undocumented language, so until I can ask what they call themselves its a temporary name. Then again they don’t seem to mind being called pikmin? They do know it's what I called them, they responded to the name, so who knows-” at that Olimar paused, ears wiggling as he heard the coffee finish brewing. “Ah, one moment, Papa needs coffee if he's to keep going like this.”

Rose couldn’t help but sigh affectionately as she watched her husband get up to find one of his mugs in the cabinet. Yes, he'd need coffee, that or a post-breakfast nap with how quickly he talked. He then set his mug down as he opened a drawer, though he quickly frowned. “Uh… honey? Where’s my spoon?”

“Next drawer over, dear.”

“Hm.. OH! Yeah, heh…” Olimar laughed sheepishly as he opened the other one up and pulled out his spoon. It was small, with a well decorated wooden handle. The only one in the house like that, something he got soon after finding his first apartment back when he was eighteen. Soon he was preparing his coffee the same way he always did - practically more creamer than coffee. And way too much sugar. Frankly, he preferred tea, but tea made him sleepy. Olimar didn’t sit back down after preparing his drink, instead electing to pace a bit as he drank and talked. He… may have still had eggs left? She couldn’t tell through all the ketchup. 

On and on and on Olimar went, sharing everything he knew about the pikmin. It was… a mildly overwhelming amount of information, not helped by how he jumped around topics at random, but he was clearly enjoying himself so much that Rose didn’t really mind. In fact, she knew this would be a regular occurrence - if she did mind, she wouldn’t have married him. The kids kept up with him better than she ever could, regularly asking questions about the pikmin and other creatures Olimar mentioned. 

“Oh, and you should have seen Louie’s face when - LOUIE!” Olimar’s ears wiggled. He set his mug down to clap his hands together. “Oh okay okay okay - so, I rushed back here first thing when the Dolphin was repaired. But - and I think you know this, Rose - when I got here I found out that Hocotate Freight was in some trouble. Someone lost an important shipment, and the company had to spend more than what we actually had to make up for it. So when he heard the pikmin’s planet had some treasure hunting opportunities, well, my boss sent Louie and I in to find some and save the company.”

Yes, she did know that. The company’s president had called her to let her know, then set her up with a galactic email account to be able to send him messages from home. It took hours to get emails back and forth, but it was something at least. 

“And you did it? You saved the company?” Nova asked, still bouncing in place. 

“Well, I couldn’t of done it without Louie or the pikmin - who helped yet again. I owe everything to those little guys.” He sighed before continuing on. “Well, Louie is a really nice kid. He’s nineteen, new to the company. I’ve been showing him the ropes, so I guess I finally got my own crew now! Even if it is just us two.”

“COOOOOOL!” Nova practically squealed. “So was he there when your ear got torn?”

“Huh - oh.” Olimar reached up to the torn ear. “I keep forgetting that happened. Uh, no, it was an accident when the pikmin were helping me repair the Dolphin. I let some on board, a small flying insect also got in. One of the pikmin was chasing it around - I’ve mentioned they have high prey drives - and the fly landed on my ear. And the pikmin jumped for the fly…” he winced a bit. “Another pikmin patched me up. The one who tore my ear was crying, so I ended up having to console it. It never meant to, it just got a little too into its game… heh…”

That was a huge relief for Rose, though she hoped the torn ear was the only injury. 

"Did the pikmin say sorry?" Luna asked.

"Well, they can't. At least not in words I'd know. But it did cry and hug me. Closest it could get to apologizing in this case." 

Nova had finished his breakfast now, standing up out of his chair to bounce in place a little easier. "So what else happened???"

Olimar paused then, as if thinking. After a few moments he answered "Well, other than general work? Not too much. I can save specific tales for another time though. Can't use up all of my stories in just one morning!" 

Nova frowned but nodded. "O-Okay Papa…"

"If storytime is done, can I go play?" Luna asked.

"Of course dear." Rose smiled at the two kids.

Nova took that to mean he could leave as well, both children hugging their parents before slowly heading out of the kitchen. With the children gone to do their own things, Olimar began to pick up the plates to wash real quickly. "I think I'll head outside after this."

Upon hearing the word "outside", Bulbie looked up and quickly ran over to Olimar, claws tapping against the linoleum floor.  Olimar sqeaked a bit, stepping away from the excited pup who then put its paws on his legs. 

"Seems someone needs to go." Rose teased at first, only for her ears to lean back quickly. Olimar was pressed up against the counter, his eyes wide, ears leaned back, and fur raised on end as he stared back at the family dog. "H-Honey-?" Rose asked, gently touching his shoulder.

Olimar flinched, looking at her in terror, before suddenly calming down. "O-Oh - sorry-"

She shook her head. "Don't be - just…" she paused a bit, unsure if she wanted to push him regarding this, before deciding it best to try anyway. "I - I know you didn't share some parts of the story, for the kids. But - did something happen there?"

Her husband was quiet for a long time, gripping the counter behind him tighter. Eventually he managed out "Well… as I said, there were… other creatures on the planet. Not just the pikmin. They… they're animals, of course, they just act to survive. But they're still - some did try to prey on the pikmin."

Rose then froze a little herself. "So - they were dangerous…?" And what did that have to do with their dog?

"Well - " at this point, Olimar had knelt down to gently pet Bulbie between his eyestalks. "I had the pikmin. They're fierce little fighters. It's like - there's predators here too. But how dangerous they are… it - it changes the moment you have a hunting tool. A knife or gun or whatever. With the pikmin to protect us, I had nothing to fear."  

Her ears leaned back a bit then. She knew there was more he wasn't telling her. "Olimar, please d-"

"O-one of the species, one of the most common, actually, uh - I called it a bulborb. Named after Bulbie here. They look a lot like Hocotation dogs." He ruffled the pup's floppy ears as he spoke. 

Rose wasn't sure how to respond.

"I actually tried to pet the first one I saw!... I'm glad the pikmin were there, they helped me aft- they stopped me before I could be bit. Anyways - that's all. He managed to spook me a little. Guess I have reflexes to unlearn. I should take him out now-"

As he stood up, though, Rose put a hand on his shoulder. Her ears were pinned back as she stared at him intently. "Olimar, what happened on that planet?"   

Olimar flinched slightly before looking down. "I - I told you… I - I fixed my ship with the pikmin, then hunted for treasure with them. T-there were some predators but… that's it."

Her ears then drooped, a sigh escaping her as she pulled him in for a hug. "S-Sorry, I didn't - mean it like that. I just… I'm worried about you." 

Olimar sighed as well then, snuggling in close. "I know. But you don't have to be, I promise. I've - I've got my ear torn in a friendly accident but that's it. There was never any threat of anything worse happening. I'm okay. I'm okay." 

Rose nodded then, gently kissing his forehead. "Okay… okay. Still, please take it easy?"

"Of course dear." He chuckled and tapped her nose affectionately. "No matter what, work is work and I'm tired. You try to relax too, okay? I'm gonna go take this pup out with me to garden."    

Rose nodded, smiling as she let him go. Olimar called for Bulbie, walking over to the back door and letting the both of them out. Rose then turned to the sink and - oh. Olimar forgot about the rest of the dishes. With a sigh she filled the sink up so they could soak. He could finish them later, and that would at least make it easier on him. She looked back out the window, watching as Olimar pruned their flower garden with a smile. 

It ended up being a good day, and yet it felt so short. Maybe that was because it had been a good day. Regardless, it disappointed Rose. She and Olimar spent a good deal of the day resting and watching TV together. They even got to plan out the vegetable garden this year. It wasn’t anything too fancy, just household favorites, but it was still something she looked forward to. Nova had gotten Olimar to help him with some homework and he did agree to sit and play with Luna for a while. So soon the sun had set, and it wasn’t long afterwards that they began getting ready for bed.

Rose hummed as she put her day clothes in the hamper. Now she was in her night clothes; some sweat pants and an oversized tee shirt she had permanently borrowed from her husband. Olimar too was changing behind her, having quickly grabbed his favorite pajama set. The fabric used for it was so soft, she couldn't blame him for wearing it so often (even if it was worse for wear now). As she turned around to get in bed, however, she let out an audible gasp. "Honey, your back!"

Olimar had only changed into his pajama pants, leaving his upper half exposed. Through the dulled fur, Rose could make out the shape of a massive bruise. It was long and narrow, stretched across his entire back, was pointed at one end, and if it looked this bad through his fur…

"Oh… yeah. I, uh, may have been hurt near the end stretch." Olimar replied sheepishly. He turned to her as he spoke, revealing similar bruises along his sides and a large, circular bruise on his chest.  

"Honey, I can see it through your fur! What happened?"

Olimar was quiet for a long moment before mumbling "A co-worker was… in a jam. I helped him out, took a few hits for it though." 

"What do you mean, took a few hits, those look-"

"Rose, please, I know you're worried but I just need some sleep."

"Wha - no!" Rose shook her head as she approached her husband, laying a hand on one cheek. "Honey, no. You were gone for two months and have come back hurt. I just… need a partial answer, at least, please."

Olimar didn’t respond to her, standing quiet as his ears leaned back. “I…” tears had begun to well up in his eyes then, which he quickly whipped away as he avoided her gaze. 

Rose let out a sigh before pulling him in for a gentle hug, her head perched right on his. Olimar hugged back tightly, holding onto her as if she’d vanish should he let go for even a moment. He shook slightly in her arms. 

“They’re my fault.” he eventually mumbled. “I’m just an idiot. I did something stupid and got hurt, it won’t happen again.”

Rose gently kissed his forehead. “Please don’t call yourself that.”

“I left a crewmate behind!” he suddenly snapped, before shaking more and practically burying his face against her shoulder. “I’m… ‘m sorry. I - I forgot about him, n’ had to go save him, n’ got hurt because of where I left him. It won’t happen again.”

He… left someone behind? That didn't sound like him, something was off here, and Rose didn't know what she could do about it. Can you really promise me it won't happen again? “Look, I… I know I can’t make you say anything you don’t want to. But I’m worried for you, dear. I’m so worried…”

"I… I don't want to worry you."

"Oh, I know honey. But you're my husband. I love you. I'm always going to worry a bit." She gently rubbed his back, ears now drooping. 

Olimar sniffled then. "I love you too." He then sighed. "... 'm sorry."

"It's okay dear. It's okay." Rose pulled back just a bit to gently kiss his forehead. "I won't make you say anything. But please, know you can always tell me what happened. Okay?"

"... okay." He sighed. "Okay." Olimar then paused before looking up at his wife. "Before we go to bed… can I tell a happier story? Just some antics the pikmin got into? You'd love them. The pikmin, I mean - b-but you may also like the sto-"

Rose giggled a bit before kissing his forehead again. "I always love your stories, dear."

Olimar blushed hard then, smiling goofily. Over the years, he never seemed less love-struck. "O-Okay - yeah - yeah!"

Rose knew something happened on that planet. She didn't know how bad it was, or what exactly happened. But she also knew she held little power here. Olimar would say what he needed to in due time. All she could do was her best to be there for him. As she watched her husband finally find his favorite pajama shirt and slip it on, and as they laid in bed, he talked softly about the pikmin he had come to adore so much.

As far as she knew, this was all he needed to feel better.

She couldn't have been more wrong. 

[chill-pills-yandere-haven]

Hello, I apologize if this is not the best idea but would you consider something like how Genshin yanderes, La signora, Ei (alone or as part of trio with Sara and yae) and nigguang in particular, would react to learning that their darling was being abused by their family, non sexually mind you. I am a sucker for soft yandere content, and have had this idea in my head for nearly a week now lol. Sorry if this ask is a mess, I am not used to sending these. I am not even sure you will see this one.

Order up, fellow chill pill! You brain rotted me so now you will reap what you sowed!

Tw: somewhat-explicit gore on Eimikosara's part, yanderes, depiction of abuse, flashbacks if abuse, mutilation (on eimikosara's part), Ei is electric chair, I had to do some very weird google searches for this, lol.

An: Sorry this took so long, I didn't read the message completely so I thought it was only Signora and Eimikosara. When I reread it and found out I was writing the wrong thing I kind of got writer's block. I also forgot to read the fluff part so Ningguang's part is messed up Stolkholm fluff, though there are cuddle scenes in both Signora and Eimikosara's parts. But still, enjoy!

La Signora

A fist pummeled into your stomach.

Your breath was taken away, left with a shuddering wheeze. Stop. Please, stop.

"Why can't you do anything right!" Your father yelled at you, bottle in hand. Why was he yelling at you?

"Worthless piece of shit!" A kick landed on your shin, your body curling up even more. Tears fell from your eyes. You could barely breathe. Stop! Someone, make it stop!

"Mom-please."

"See! This! This is why you're such a fucking nuisance! You cry for your bitch-ass mother all the fucking time. Why don't you grow up? Huh? Stupid little cunt."

No one was coming to save you or stop anything now.

You woke up, hyperventilating in your and Rosalyne's shared bed.

"Shh, it's alright baby, I'm right here." Bawling your eyes out, she pulled you closer into her chest.

You were wrong. Someone did save you.

But Archons, you were so fucking useless without Rosa. You would've passed out by now from hyperventilation if it wasn't for her. She was right. You should be lucky that she takes care of you. You, useless damn mutt.

"I'm sorry Rosa, please don't leave me again! I'll be good, I promise! I'll even be your little pet if you want me to, I can wear a collar if you want!" You nuzzled into her, crawling on all fours into her lap, just like a dog. So pathetic.

"It's okay, love. You've been a very good little one for me. I won't leave you okay?"

"Thank you, Rosa! I love you so much, thank you for taking care of me." You really were thankful. After all, she could've just left you to die like the pathetic mutt you were.

Even after you came clean about your past, she still loved you. She even tortured and killed the ones who hurt and neglected you as a birthday present! She was such an angel.

You were lucky she loved you so much.

Ei+Miko+Sara

Another sleepless night.

Another scream in the dead of night.

Yae Miko curled up next to you in her fox form nuzzling you and telling you that you were okay. Ei had moved from her place beside you and was now spooning you from behind, playing with your hair. Kujou Sara was in front of you, trying to get you to breathe.

"Another nightmare about them, love?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry," You hid your head in Miko's fur.

"You're alright, dear. You're safe with us. I No one else will ever touch you again, okay dear?" Sara comforted you, exaggerating her breathing for you to copy.

"Love, I'll be just a minute, alright?" Ei moved away and went out of the bedroom. Sara taking her place and now spooning you.

Ei would be the one taking out the trash tonight.

The air stank with iron and filth.

Ei would have preferred to have killed them as soon as they were in her hands but Yae Miko insisted that they suffer before they're given the sweet release of death. In truth, they deserved a hundred thousand deaths if not a million.

They all wished to harm their beloved's abusers in revenge for their darling. However, they knew that those pieces of filth would die much too early if all three of them tortured them at the same time. They all alternated days except for Sundays, Sundays were when they were starved.

Their shared lover's parents were held in chains, dried blood practically covering them. Both of them looked like skeletons, their bones sticking out and at some parts exposed by some of Yae Miko's torture. They lived on a special type of food, edible and able to keep them alive for longer but anyone would have preferred to eat their feces than it.

When they saw Ei, both tried to open their mouths. They probably forgot that they couldn't speak now that Yae chopped off their tongues because they kept saying that they were innocent. As soon as Miko saw them on the edge of death, she cauterized the wound and made one of the servants heal them just so they would live to be tortured a little longer.

'Let's start with a little shock. After all, that's how my love has to wake up because of them.' Ei channelled Electro and made them feel about 30 volts coursing through their veins. They let out undignified yelps, though it wasn't like they had any dignity in the first place, not when they hurt her beloved.

Scars of electro and bloodied bruises covered both of them. Their faces were marred by dried blood, electricity, and scars, so much that they were unrecognizable. Mainly due to Sara feeling guilty because they looked like her lover so Yae scarred them beyond recognition. Their clothes were mere oversized scraps as well.

Ei kicked one of them in the ribs. She didn't matter who, all that mattered was that they suffered.

The night was young and Ei wouldn't be sated until they were thoroughly punished for not letting her beloved get their sleep.

Ningguang

"Love? Love, you're spacing out again. Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah I am, Ning. Just, thinking about them again," you let out a sigh. You were supposed to be having a romantic dinner with your amazing wife, but all you could think about was the past.

Ningguang may have 'forced you' into an arranged marriage with her, making your folks financially unstable to achieve it, but it had been just what you needed.

You were free.

You didn't have to deal with your narcissistic, controlling, asshole parents anymore. You could do what you wanted without having to look over your shoulder every second. You weren't guilt-tripped into giving them money when you were barely afloat. You were living the good life.

All with the bonus of marrying the richest woman in the world, living like the richest person in the world, and having someone to sate your need for affection.

Yes sure, you weren't allowed to leave or speak to anyone other than Ning, but you were fine with that. After all, things could've been much worse. You could've still been in contact with your parents.

You ate like royalty, were dressed in only the finest Liyuean silks, and so on and so forth. You were living in the lap of luxury and all you needed to do to continue doing so was play pet for a nice lady who most likely killed for you in the past. You'd been through worse. Though you couldn't deny that you were a captive.

"Open your mouth," Ningguang spoon-fed you another bite of food.

You might've been a captive, but you knew you'd be lying if you said you weren't falling for her. The way her eyes lit up when you followed her instructions. How her soft yet calloused hand caressed your cheek, making sure you swallowed every grain of rice. Her lips looked so soft right now as well, you couldn't help but bring her lips to yours.

You might've been a captive, but Stockholm was your kidnapper.

[tommyspeakycap]

Shelby!Sister getting poisoned whilst at dinner with the whole family?

changed it up a bit; reader is roofied at one of Tommy’s fancy ball type parties and there’s one particular gentleman around to help her out.

Good Team

Tommy had, since you were merely a little girl, endeavoured to introduce you emphatically as (y/n) Shelby, with your surname stated soaked in ferocity and warning. You are a Shelby. You are his little sister. He makes sure people know this. He makes sure they’re aware. He sees it as a pre-warning, the kind that lets them know that you are very very important to him without actually saying those words. He sees it very much as a pre-warning for grievous bodily harm had any trouble befell you at another persons discretion. It was made incredibly clear from the moment you were born that you were so far from off limits to the enemies that it didn’t even need to be spoken.

However, it was a relatively occasional occurrence that this message was not accurately conveyed no matter how clear your elder brother was about the matter.

You were usually so cautious and so careful, but you were in your brothers own ballroom with his own supplied champagne and you had very few worries of such a simple business gathering for Christmas. You were adorning an extortionate dress that Tommy had made for you with a beautiful fur shoulder wrap, cheeks dusted with a champagne blush and a gorgeous smile as you mingle with rich business people and rich couples who were born into money. They were amazing at times to ogle at, coming from such a poor background. It was hard enough to adjust to your new life flaunting pretty dressed and walking around with a purpose and a job that had significant purpose.

But it would be safe to say you weren’t so worried around these people. You should’ve known better.

You keep blinking, squeezing your eyes shut to try and find vision again that wasn’t restricted by blurriness. The heels on your feet didn’t aid you much in the way of keeping your balance as you stumble into a long hall. You don’t remember where you last saw Tommy and you can’t remember where the glass you were holding had gone. You don’t know much, but you know you have to find one of your brothers.

Heavy footsteps behind you send a rush of hazed adrenaline through your veins, forcing your legs to move you faster, your arms scratching off paintings lining the walls as you attempt to use the wall as a stabiliser.

“Someone’s ‘ad a bit much, eh?”

Your eyelids flicker as you try to keep them open against the light that makes you feel like your head is exploding. “No, no I- there’s someone trying to get me!” You hiss in a slurred whisper with arms that flail somewhat aimlessly as you attempt to point out the person behind you. The man with his his on your biceps steadying you leans around to get a good look behind you. “Mhm, there me no one there love.” He says, confused. You can only vaguely make out who the person is that holds you up and it’s someone you know your brother only invited so as to attempt to talk him into taking on more Blinders for distillery protection.

Alfie Solomons wasn’t entirely the most trustworthy person that surrounded your family. Him and Tommy had a bit of a tendency to betray each other, no matter how expected it always was. The London gangster probably wasn’t the best person for you to bump into and definitely not the most reliable, but he was who you had ended up with and although it could have been him that drugged you, it didn’t seem incredibly likely. He told Tommy and Grace when greeting people at the front door; “No need for the fucking niceties eh Tommy? I’m here for the free booze mate yeah?” and walked on through with a pat on your brothers back.

Despite the fact you didn’t have much trust in him, you really holed that he wouldn’t pass you off as being overly drunk and leave you alone. You feel dreadfully unwell. Alfie looks down the hall, then back at you and with a sigh, he slips his strong arm around your waist and pulls you into his side for your stability. “I think you’re right, Shelby.” Alfie mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for even you to hear. “Something‘s just not right.” He turns to you, using his arm that wasn’t wrapped around you to lift up your eyelid. Beyond the terror in your eyes in huge pupils. “You’ve been drugged,” he states, his voice still low. “Better find those brothers of yours.”

That brings you some form of relief, but the terror still remains. It’s a scary situation, to know what you want to do with your limbs and know exactly what you want to say, but to be unable to speak or walk or even hold up your head. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing and you were drenched in sweat. It’s a shock you didn’t recognise you had been drugged before hearing Alfie say it.

His arm is tight around the waistline of your expensive ballgown, keeping you steady against him as he walked as quickly as he could manage while supporting your weight. He only vaguely knew the way around Tommy’s huge country house, but he did know where the man’s office was, and he’d likely have a maid in waiting there who Alfie could send to fetch him once he got you there. As you both rounded the corner into the corridor that would take you to Tommy’s office, there a man dressed like a waiter standing seemingly waiting for you. “Mister Shelby sent me to collect his sister when he heard she was overly inebriated.” The man spoke. Alfie furrowed his eyebrows tightly, but nodded and walked you closer to him. You want to protest, but your mind still won’t coordinate with your body and the most you can do is grumble. “She’s a bit hard to deal with,” Alfie admits, “So a tip you should really know for the future?“ He pauses, moving as though he’s going to pass you over to the arms of the other man. Alfie leans in until he’s only a few inches away and whispers a warning “I fucking hate liars,” before sharply drawing back his head only to but it forward forcefully into the man’s face.

He stumbles back and Alfie takes that opportunity to grab the front of his suit jacket and throw him behind the two of you with a kick to his ribs a few times for good measure. He wraps his arm back around your waist and continues on down the hall as if nothing had ever happened. “Could tell by his-fuck!”

A yelp leaves you as your legs tangled when you attempt to bare your own weight and instead clatter to the floor with a thud. Alfie grunts and you fight to open your heavy eyelids to see that a man had dove out at him from a doorway along the long hall and there were now two of them and two of you, except they were both conscious and had full control of their own bodies, whereas it fell upon Alfie to fight for both of you. The Londoner truly does not know why he has put himself in this situation for anyone, never mind for a Shelby he had only met a handful of times. But every time he had met you, you were incredibly sweet and kind to him. He knows that they’ll stop attacking him if he allows them to take you and do as they please with you, but something in him prevents him from doing that. There’s a part of him that encourages him to spit the blood from his mouth and stand in front of where you lay in and out of consciousness on the fell, ready to fight for you like he had something to lose if he couldn’t protect you. Tommy would never know Alfie was there with you if he walked away now, but something in him wants to be there. Wants to fight for you.

And so fight he does, throwing punch after punch, trying to take on two at once. Alfie managed to take the blonde assailant out of the game by cracking the wall with his blonde head of hair, leaving him out cold and potentially dying on the floor. When he does that though, his moment of glory is short lived before the other appears behind him with an arm tightly around his throat. Alfie squirms and grunts, kicks and scratches attempting to get him off, but the attacker holds on despite the blows. Alfie thinks he may well have to accept his fate.

Then he clocks you again on the floor, except this time your hands and trailing up your leg, hiking up your dress and he is utterly confused at your behaviour, thinking that it must be the drugs acting weird in your system. That is, until your dress reaches your upper thigh and the London gangster feels what he thinks may be butterflies when he spots the holster and gun that had been well hidden by your long ballgown. He would laugh, grin even if he wasn’t being strangled nearly to death. He watched with blurry vision as you try to steady your hands enough to point the gun at the attacker that was too bury trying to hold Alfie Solomons down to notice your movements. Alfie squeezes his eyes shut as you move your finger over the trigger and he hopes to God your heads are steady enough to shoot the right person.

The bang goes off and very suddenly he can breathe again. He notes that’s a good sign. He scrambles away quickly, turning around to press his foot onto the bullet wound in the shoulder of his attacker. “I will come back for you.” He growls in warning, pressing his foot harder to elicit a scream before he nods and turns back to where you stand. He wipes the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the carpet before he steps forward to swoop your gun off the floor to slip it back into your thigh holster, and then he helps you back up. Except this time, he opts to sweep you off your feet and into his arms bridal style.

“Good shot.” He notes. You breath a chuckle with hooded eyes in response, but can’t manage anything else. If you hadn’t been severely drugged, Alfie might’ve kissed you.

He makes it to Tommy’s office with ease, ordering the maid to get your brother immediately. Alfie lays you down on the soft couch in the office, placing you carefully on on your side for safety in case you’re sick. He uses the not blood tinted side of his handkerchief to wire some blood splatter and sweat from your face gently, and offers a gentle smile. “We make a good team, Solomons.” You hum with words slurred and jumped, but he understand what you said nonetheless. “That we do, Shelby.” He rumbles back in response.

The moment is as any moment of yours often is, interrupted by your elder brothers storming in. Immediately, Alfie is ripped from your side by Arthur slamming the him roughly against the wall with a loud clatter and bang. John goes to stand by Arthur’s side, and Tommy takes a knee beside you. The patriarch places his cool hand against your forehead before dipping down to place his ear just above your lips. “She’s breathing.” He concludes, “What the fuck did you do to her?” He sneers through gritted teeth as he takes steps towards Alfie.

“And why the fuck and you covered in blood.” Alfie sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and flaring his nostrils at the proximity of the three Shelby brothers. “Funny story, you see Tommy.” He grumbles discontentedly, “Seems as though someone tried after your sister right under your fucking nose, mate. Drugged her drink, removed her from the crowd. I found her wandering the halls all fuckin’ disoriented yeah. Now I don’t like a man who targets a woman, much less has to fuckin’ drug her to achieve it.” Alfie shrugs. Tommy narrows his eyes, but something in him believes what the Camden Town Gangster is saying. Alfie doesn’t have much in the way of necessity for taking you and it wouldn’t make sense for him to have the opportunity to but instead to bring you here. Right to them. “Doesn’t explain the fucking blood.” Arthur hisses, slamming his back against the wall again.

Alfie holds up his hands. “You’re little sister isn’t such a damsel as you make her out to be, Thomas. She has a fantastic shot. Some cunts-“ Alfie’s words drop with pure venom as the reminder of the man nearly strangling him to death reenters his mind, “Came after her. On that note, you’ll need a carpet cleaner and some body bags just along that hall. Don’t let the missus see that mess.”

Tommy paused for a moment, his eyes not leaving Alfie’s even when he speaks. “John, check that corridor.” He orders, making his younger brother grunt in annoyance but do as told nonetheless. “Arthur,” He grumbles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Take our sister upstairs and get Polly.” Arthur is hesitant. Tommy might believe the words that Alfie speaks, but Arthur despises him and the only thing he hates more than Alfie is the thought of Alfie’s hands on you without any of them being there to help you, protect you. He knows that he and a Tommy are asking themselves the same question. How could something like this happen to you right beneath their noses. How had someone managed to get to when they were so close, literally right in the same room in an event organised by them. Arthur couldn’t answer the question, but could probably have killed Alfie in his rage at that moment. “Arthur,” Tommy repeats more firmly, “Go.”

This time, he listens. But that’s not without a warning glare at Alfie, who simply offers a smirk in response. “And you,” Tommy says finally, turning his attention to Alfie, “Fuck off.”

Alfie chuckles, but begins to walk past Tommy to leave the office when the smaller man grabs his arm in a vice like grip that makes the tips of his fingers tingle with the strength of it. Alfie feigns the urge to fight back in reaction to the pain. Tommy leans in close to his ear with a low snarl, “You don’t just help people. I don’t care what the reason was eh, but don’t you ever go near my sister again.”

Then he lets go and Alfie simply shakes off his arm and walks away. He hasn’t listened to Tommy Shelby any time in the past, and it appears as though today will be no different.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

🥺 babe 🥺 bAbE

What if Jask gets sick at Kaer Morhen but tries to hide it from Geralt bc he doesn't want him to think he's gross/weak/etc? And Geralt has the Feelings Braincell for once?

oh babe... thank you

tw: sickness, falling unconscious, fever, whump/angst with a happy ending

---

Jaskier knew he had a fever the moment he woke up. He could feel it burning beneath this skin like a forge, flushing his face a more vibrant shade of pink than usual. He glared at his reflection in the small, round mirror above his dressing table and willed himself to feel better. It was his first winter at Kaer Morhen, and he didn’t want Geralt to think he’d made a mistake by inviting Jaskier along to stay. The bard knew that his stoic, self-loathing Witcher would blame himself immediately for any misfortune or illness that befell Jaskier. Geralt might even reconsider inviting him back again someday. So he had to keep his little bug a secret until he was well. Surely it was nothing major. Surely it would pass after a few days, unnoticed and unremarkable.

He should have known better.

Jaskier dabbed a bit more perfume than usual (which was generally none at all) beneath his ears and along his wrists. He hoped the peony-lavender mixture would mask whatever kind of scent his illness might carry and slowly, carefully made his way down the long stone staircase that led from the guest bedroom to the enormous kitchen. His limbs felt achy and tired, even though he’d slept heavily the night previous. His head sat heavy and unbalanced atop his shoulders; the world wavered and spun around him as he desperately tried to keep from pitching sideways into the wall. 

“You alright there, boy?” Vesemir asked, catching his eye from the bottom of the stairs. “You seem a bit… nervous.”

Maybe his anxiety was doing a better job of hiding his secret than the perfume. 

“Just a little wool between my ears this morning,” the bard laughed brightly, ignoring the searing pain that throbbed through his chest with the movement, “I think I might go chop some wood and see if the brisk mountain air helps clear it out faster.”

“Hmm,” the eldest Wolf nodded sagely. There was no doubt which teacher Geralt had admired most as a pup. “Alright. Be safe, take care. I’ll send someone to fetch you when breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Vesemir,” Jaskier bowed shallowly and headed for the kitchen’s back door. He took the axe into his hands and tried not to sway on his feet from the added weight. The bard covered his tracks by throwing a smile back over his shoulder and pushing the door open. “See you for breakfast!”

He stepped out of the keep and let the heavy slab of wood slam shut behind him. The early morning sky above Kaer Morhen was cloudless and the sun was bright, blinding him entirely. His situation only worsened when the sudden change in temperature, from the warm kitchen to the freezing mountainside, punched the air from his lungs in one thick cloud. He struggled to regain it as he wove his way through the snow drifts to the woodpile. Slowly, and with great effort, Jaskier lined up a thick log to be split.

The world felt watery and far away. His hand, which he knew to be attached to the end of his arm by some miracle, would not obey his command to pick up the axe again. His lungs felt heavy in his chest cavity and his legs suddenly ached with a fierce intensity. 

With a quiet cry of protest against his own body failing him, Jaskier collapsed into the snow.

---

Jaskier’s heartbeat was so slow and quiet, his limbs unmoving and his lips nearly blue from the cold; Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever been so scared before in his life. He turned to Vesemir and asked, barely keeping the frantic terror from clawing its way out of his throat: “How long was he out there?” 

“Half an hour at most,” the grey Wolf shrugged. “I don’t really remember, Geralt. I was busy taking care of the breakfast arrangements.”

“Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Eskel ordered. He frowned at Geralt from his place at Jaskier’s opposite side. He’d helped carry the bard from the courtyard to Geralt’s room and was just as worried about the human’s wellbeing. “Panicking won’t help him. Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s hard to tell over all that stupid perfume,” Lambert snarled. “Stupid fucking bard fucking knew we would be able to smell it on him. He covered his gods-damned tracks.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmured, having grown suddenly calm. He let the back of his knuckles drag softly across the bard’s too-hot cheek until he could stick a stray lock of sweaty brown hair back behind his ear. “You idiot.”

The bard shifted against the blanket they’d laid him on, his brow wrinkling. His arms twitched slightly, as if he was trying to move them, and he whined plaintively: “G’ralt.”

“I’m here, Jask,” the Witcher replied quickly, forgetting they weren’t alone in the room. He took one of the bard’s freezing hands into his own and began rubbing the warmth back into his fingers. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you better. You’ll be alright.”

“Who are you trying to reassure?” Lambert huffed a short laugh. “You or the bard?”

“Leave off,” Eskel shot his younger brother a glare. The redhead rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the wall near the door. Eskel continued speaking to Lambert, but his eyes were back on Jaskier, who kept trying to get closer to Geralt even in his sleep. “Why don’t you go grab some clean clothes from his room while we get him warmed up and conscious again.”

“Fine,” Lambert spat. But he took off at a quick trot, regardless.

“Geralt, get his wet clothes off and get him wrapped up. Eskel, you come with me to the kitchen. I’ll need help carrying things and I’m sure the bard would prefer some privacy in this particular matter.”

Eskel nodded his agreement and followed Vesemir from the room, leaving Geralt alone with Jaskier. The White Wolf hurried to undress and swaddle the bard with a warm, heavy wool blanket and several furs, talking all the while in a low, worried voice. “Fuck, Jaskier. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened and that you- Why did you hide it? Why wouldn’t you- Are you afraid of me? Is that why you didn’t come to me for help?”

Jaskier’s lids fluttered open and Geralt watched with nervous anticipation as two of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, blue as cornflowers and brighter than the spring sky, tried their best to focus on his face. “Geralt?”

“I’m here, Jaskier. What’s ailing you? Please, tell me how I can help you.”

“Hurts,” the bard managed to groan. “To breathe.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growled. “We need to get you warm. Lambert should be back with your clothes by now.”

Jaskier’s head lolled back against the pillow and he struggled to reach for his Witcher, “Hold me.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll warm up-” he gasped between words, as if every syllable pained him to expel “-faster if… you hold me.”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s brows furrowed in frustration. He knew Jaskier was right, that he’d feel better faster with skin-on-skin contact, but he also wanted to hold Jaskier for other, less emergency-based reasons. That was unacceptable. Losing Jaskier to death or sickness or other human reasons was intolerable but losing him, in all senses of the word, because of Geralt’s impossible feelings? That would be truly horrendous.

The warring factions of his heart were still clamoring over a decision when Eskel and Vesemir re-entered carrying two large trays. One was covered with foodstuffs and the other held an enormous clay teapot and mugs. A small pot of honey, gathered from Vesemir’s very own beehives, was the most obvious sign of affection Geralt had ever seen the older man display for a near-stranger. 

“I’m gonna… get… spoiled,” Jaskier gasped. The eldest Wolf shot Geralt a glare. 

“Why aren’t you in there with him? You know the best way to warm up a hypothermic person is skin contact, Geralt! I certainly taught you better than this.”

“I didn’t-” he stuttered. “I wasn’t-”

“He’s afraid,” Jaskier smiled sadly, cuddling himself deeper into the furs as he turned his gaze towards the fire. All three of the Witchers could smell his sadness, even more potent than the illness ravaging his delicate human body. Geralt winced when his brother and father glared at him in tandem, expressions nearly matching in fury. The bard was still looking away, watching the flames send dancing patterns of light against the stone walls. “Don’t worry… won’t ask… for any more.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispered, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “May I hold you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Vesemir smiled beneath his mustache. Jaskier was too tired to blush, and opted to bury his head in Geralt’s shoulder instead. “Come along, Eskel. Let’s see what Lambert has gotten up to.”

“What about Jaskier’s clothes?”

“He can borrow Geralt’s for now. I’m sure our White Wolf won’t mind sharing; he’s the possessive type, after all.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and grumbled out of habit more than disagreement. 

When Vesemir and Eskel had gone for good and the door was closed, Geralt pulled Jaskier out of the furs and removed his own shirt. He settled the bard against his chest and buried his nose in Jaskier’s dark hair, breathing in the scents of sweat and sickness and now, thank the gods, tangy-bright happiness. “Gods, Jaskier. Don’t scare me like that ever again. I can’t lose you.”

“I didn’t… want… to disappoint.”

“You never do and never will,” Geralt intoned. He pulled the furs over them both and splayed his large hands across Jaskier’s back. The bard’s skin was overly hot in some places and freezing in others; Geralt buried his panic in order to care for... for the man he loved. He took a deep breath and rubbed slow circles between the bard’s shoulder blades. “I… I love you, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” the bard hummed tunelessly. “Love you… too.”

Geralt helped him sit up and drink a mug of tea. He listened, slowly allowing himself to relax, as Jaskier’s breathing eased and his heartbeat balanced. When the tea was gone and the fire was re-built to Geralt’s satisfaction, the Witcher tucked Jaskier’s head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around the bard’s shoulders. “Oh, my little lark. I’ve been so foolish for too long.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier grinned into the Witcher’s warm pectoral. “Me... too.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time when you feel better,” Geralt murmured, lips pressing over and over to the top of the bard’s head. Jaskier couldn’t keep himself from smiling, even as he drifted back to sleep. The Witcher felt something settle in his chest when he whispered: “Rest up, dear heart. There are many more adventures to be had.”

[fruitcoops]

Strawberry Blond

Coops fluff Coops fluff Coops fluff!! I highly recommend listening to Strawberry Blond by Mitski, which was the direct inspiration for this fic! This wasn’t based on an ask, but it’s been in the back of my mind for a little while now. Hope you enjoy!

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“This might be your best idea yet,” Remus mused as they laid next to each other, staring up at the fluffy clouds crossing a robin’s-egg sky. In his periphery, Sirius watched him pick small bits of grass with his free hand. The other of course, was warm in his own.

“Okay, Blondie.”

“Shut up,” Remus laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. “I’m not blond yet.”

“After all this sunshine?” Sirius turned on his side and fluffed the front of his curls over his eyes, making him scrunch his nose up like a cute little bunny. “You are, sweetheart.”

Remus Lupin existed in all shades of tawny gold—tinged with pink on his cheeks and the backs of his arms, deeper across the expanse of his back and chest, and woven with bronze for his soft hair. Sometimes, Sirius woke up in time to watch the sunlight make him glow, and he would count every new color he found.

But after the near-constant summer sunlight due to their broken air conditioning and inability to find a fan that didn’t spontaneously combust, Remus was almost strawberry blond, and it was driving Sirius out of his mind. Remus let his head fall to the side and smiled when they made eye contact, squeezing Sirius’ hand. “Want some water?”

“Don’t get up, I’m comfy.” Sirius stuck his lip out in a pout and Remus snorted, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.”

The light breeze rippled through the whole field, save for the pressed-down grass where Remus had laid mere moments before. Their shoes were…somewhere. Sirius hoped they had left them near the picnic basket, but his mind was too muzzy with bliss to make an effort to remember.

Remus’ bare ankles were pale against the rolled-up cuffs of his jeans and Sirius took a second to admire his ass when he bent to get their waterbottles—as Remus’ fiancé, it was his court-appointed right to appreciate the familiar curve. That law was definitely written down in some dusty old book.

“Do we actually need buildings?” Sirius asked as Remus settled back down next to him.

To his credit, Remus didn’t miss a beat. “What?”

“In the grand scheme of things, do we need skyscrapers? They’re kind of useless, and they block all this.” He gestured widely with his free arm and took a sip.

“Huh. I’ve never thought about it that way.” Remus cocked his head to the side and looked out over the beach below, his gaze distant as he watched the point where grass turned into sand and pebbles. “I don’t think so. Concrete is ugly, anyway.”

“Maybe people would be happier if they all had low houses and big backyards.”

“Fuck hockey. Become an architect.” Remus looked over at him with a small smile. “You’d be good at that, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, you’re terrible with paint colors, but shapes—"

“You are so mean to me!” Sirius laughed, bumping him until they both fell over and laid cheek-to-cheek in opposite directions. “Unfortunately, I love it.”

“Yeah, you do. And I love you.” Remus turned his head to kiss Sirius’ cheekbone. This time next year, they would be married—they had an entire life of these moments ahead of them.

“This is everything I need,” he said quietly, watching a cloud shaped like a duck fade into wisps. “Right here. This is it.”

“Pots isn’t here.”

“Hmm.”

“Hattie’s tormenting Reg, who also isn’t here.”

“I have everything I need because no matter where I go, you’re there.”

Remus went still with a soft exhale. “What?”

Sirius shrugged. “We’re apart sometimes, yeah, but you’re always there somewhere. Either I’m wearing your shirt, or your hat, or you left yet another hickey—” Remus laughed at that, and he smiled. “—or I’m thinking about you. That’s what I mean.”

Remus sighed heavily. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“I really have to kiss you, but I’m so comfortable.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, yes I do.” Remus pushed himself onto his elbows, then turned around and threw a thigh over Sirius’ hips, bracketing his face with his forearms. “You’re so beautiful in the sun. What was I saying again?”

Sirius draped his arms over Remus’ shoulders and grinned. “Kiss me stupid, Loops.”

And he did. Not quite lazy—Remus, for all his languid stretching, was never lazy—but steady. Easy. Drawing Sirius close with each press of his lips and stroking the curls just above his ears to smooth them back until Sirius could hardly think straight. Remus had kissed him like that a number of times since they started dating: in the car, in his old apartment, on the kitchen counter while dinner threatened to burn but neither of them could be bothered to check it.

Sirius deepened the kiss as a particular memory rose to the front of his mind. Remus was sitting in the passenger seat of the car with one hand out the window and the other buried in Hattie’s soft fur. She had been smaller the day they drove her home, but still big enough that she oozed over the sides of his legs.

I love her already, Remus had said as he made gentle waves with his palm, riding the wind current of the open road. She’s ours.

Sirius’ chest ached in the best way and he leaned upward a bit, angling his chin to pull Remus’ lower lip between his teeth lightly. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. And this is our forever.

Remus pulled back, his eyes still closed as he smiled and took a slow breath. The afternoon sun lit his hair in a halo and Sirius was struck speechless by the sight; he was barely able to fold his hands over Remus’ and press their foreheads together without melting into a puddle. “That’s better.”

“Uh-huh.”

A bumblebee buzzed past them and they both jumped a bit at the sudden noise before bursting out laughing. Remus bit his lip and beamed down at Sirius, placing one more kiss to his forehead before climbing off and grabbing his hands. “Come on!”

“Where are we going?” Sirius asked as they took off running toward the beach, barefoot and sun-warmed and deliriously happy. Remus glanced over his shoulder with a smile; his eyes widened slightly when their feet hit cold, wet sand, but he didn’t slow down until they were ankle-deep in freezing salt water.

Sirius immediately reached into the surf and flung a handful of water at Remus, pulling him close enough to get a direct hit to the chest. “Hey!” Remus yelped, dropping his hand like it burned and flinging his own counterattack at Sirius.

The spray hit him dead in the face and he stumbled backward, nearly falling on his ass in the water as he windmilled for balance. Remus laughed until he was gasping, hands on his knees and making the fatal mistake of taking his eyes off Sirius for a second too long.

The first bit of seaweed stuck to his arm with a satisfying slap; the second missed by a mile as Remus sprinted away, leaving uneven footprints in the sand while Sirius chased him down and tried not to lose any toes to stray barnacles. “Get back here!” he shouted around his smile, feeling the skin of his hands stiffening with salt.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Remus called, running backward for a few steps until Sirius threw another clump of seaweed that just barely missed his shirt.

They ran and ran and ran until their picnic was out of sight, but Sirius didn’t care. A million moments, he thought. We can have a million moments of this.

[lambden]

What better way to break in a new blog than by immediately posting fic? In honour of Nightmare of the Wolf, here’s some Vesemir and Filavandrel!

(read on AO3)

M, 2.9K words, no warnings, Vesemir recognizes Jaskier’s lute when he arrives at Kaer Morhen

Vesemir has been expecting this day for decades. It’s rare for witchers to meet a trusted companion out on the Path, and even rarer to find one who wishes to travel alongside them. But the reputation of witchers has changed in recent years, for better or worse. Their focus is no longer on maintaining the traditional practices of their schools, but on protection— of other witchers, and of helpless commoners. Perhaps the humans can sense that change.

More curiously, the folklore surrounding witchers has changed. Vesemir very badly wants to meet the man who has done so much to change the narrative, but years pass and all Geralt brings home every winter are stories. The younger witchers entertain (and tease) him but no one ever asks where the bard goes during the cold months that Geralt spends at Kaer Morhen. Perhaps even Geralt doesn’t know.

Finally, after hundreds of stories of Geralt-and-Dandelion, Vesemir receives a letter one autumn before he himself has even considered the journey home. His chest warms as he reads Geralt’s careful penmanship, noting how the ink blots at the start of each new sentence. The paper and wax are fine, suggesting that Jaskier used his academic connections to perhaps land Geralt a few contracts near Oxenfurt. Geralt’s lettering may be nearly flawless but his message is stilted, reminding Vesemir of when his pups were nervous children. Does Jaskier really make him act this awkward? Their relationship must be serious, then.

I am hoping you will welcome my guest with open arms, or I fear he may freeze over the coming months. Vesemir looks for a signature but there is none, save a very fancy G at the bottom. No returning address has been provided either, and while he could easily pen a missive to Oxenfurt, it’s probably best not to respond. Each day Nilfgaard only grows stronger, and crueler. Perhaps Jaskier has been caught up in their hunger for power. Vesemir folds the letter up and hides it in his saddlebag.

When the frost begins creeping in, the oldest Wolf begins his trek up the mountain. He’s almost always the first one to arrive; Coën had beaten him to it once and apologized for weeks, and Vesemir would do anything to avoid that again. And if he makes an effort to arrive early this year so that he can make the Keep look as important as it is, well… nobody needs to know.

It takes a week and a half before Geralt arrives, Jaskier in tow. Vesemir spends the time flushing out a bat infestation and dealing with the most perishable of his spoils from the past year. The White Wolf seems to bring the cold with him most years but Vesemir, cognizant of Jaskier’s inferior body, made sure to set out enough furs in advance. As soon as he hears Roach’s hooves approaching he starts a roaring fire, and when the inner doors of Kaer Morhen burst open, Vesemir is ready to make a great first impression.

Upon seeing him, Geralt smiles right away, crossing the room to greet him. Vesemir looks him over; no obvious new scars, no missing body parts. Must have been an uneventful year, but… Geralt is here, safe and alive, so Vesemir allows himself some private, selfish, unwitcherly joy. It’s the sort of thing Deglan would have lectured him for. He finds he doesn’t care.

“I got your letter,” he tells Geralt, who nods solemnly. “I thought it best not to reply. Is Nilfgaard on your trail?”

“Our trail,” Geralt sighs, stepping aside so that Vesemir can meet his companion. “Vesemir, this is Jaskier.”

The bard, dwarfed by a large fur coat, moves forward so that Vesemir can properly scrutinize him. He certainly doesn’t look his age, but Vesemir knows he’s travelled as far as any witcher has gone, and seen sights no human should really have witnessed. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about you, Jaskier. I was wondering when Geralt was finally going to bring you along for the winter!” That makes Jaskier perk up, and Vesemir chuckles. “I promise that no harm will come to you here.”

“Thank you,” Jaskier says. “Geralt doesn’t like sharing much about the other witchers, but I’m sure you must have a wealth of stories for me to hear!” Sure enough, Geralt frowns. “And I don’t know how much help I’ll be with hunting or gathering, but I would be happy to regale you on the coldest nights—” 

And before Vesemir can read into that unfortunate phrasing, Jaskier shrugs off his fur coat to produce a lute. He must have been wearing it strapped around his front on the journey through the mountains, not wanting to condemn such a fine instrument to being jostled around in Roach’s saddlebags. Vesemir squints at the red-brown wood and the golden details under the strings. They almost look like a particular elven design.

Oh. Vesemir’s realization nearly bowls him over. Geralt and Jaskier stare at him, respectively concerned and curious, but Vesemir can’t take his eyes off the lute. “My apologies, I… I forgot something in my chamber. Make yourselves at home, and… I’ll leave you to it.” He leaves without any further explanation, hastening to his quarters and abandoning the pair of them to their own devices. He can still feel their gazes drilling into his back but he suddenly feels weaker than usual.

---

 “I heard there was a witcher skulking around this forest,” the spy says. Vesemir is almost relieved to hear them speak; he’s been glancing over his shoulder for nearly an hour now to try and reveal an invisible pursuer. He should’ve known he was right. Just because the spy doesn’t lumber like a human or reek of magic like a monster doesn’t mean he won’t be in trouble. 

He stops in the middle of the path, still facing forward. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the second he turns, a very unfriendly knife is going to introduce itself to his ribcage. Or perhaps an arrow, although he hasn’t heard the sound of anything and he’s been listening very closely.

His pursuer approaches. Fuck, they’re light on their feet. If Vesemir was just an average bandit, he’d be done for. He braces himself for an attack, balling his hands up into fists at his sides. The stranger continues, tone still pleasant enough, “Why not stay in town? A warm bed must beat trudging through mud in the early hours of the morning trying to find ground. I’ll give you some advice, witcher; there’s no dry ground. You’re heading towards a swamp.”

“They wouldn’t let me stay in town,” Vesemir admits, already grumpy. He whirls around and sees the stranger; a lean man, just slightly shorter than him. The long hood of their cloak casts a dark shadow over their face, blocking them from view. “If you’re here to rob me, I hate to disappoint, but you’ve followed me all this way for nothing.”

He holds up his empty coinpurse; not to prove himself, just to complain. The stranger titters, a lovely, high-pitched sound like glass clinking against glass, like chimes. Like birdsong. Vesemir’s eyes narrow. “That’s a shame,” they say. “You do love coin.”

There’s something disturbingly familiar about the words. Vesemir decides to gamble with his own life, stalking forward until he’s face to face with the stranger. Up close, his scent is even stronger. Frowning, Vesemir is about to reveal the man’s identity when he does it himself, pushing his hood back. His hair is tied up in complex braids unlike any Vesemir has ever seen, only a few loose strands hanging down over his forehead. But it would take more than a lifetime for Vesemir to forget that face.

“Fil,” he declares, delighted, and doesn’t think twice before crashing into the elf. Filavandrel laughs again and though it makes Vesemir feel a little silly, the sound still fills his heart with joy. He embraces his friend tightly, clinging to him for so long that both their boots sink down into the flooded dark soil of the forest. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s like I told you.” The elf pats the back of Vesemir’s neck, unwittingly sending a shiver down his spine. Vesemir’s grip tightens. “My scouts said I might find a witcher lost in the woods.”

“I’m not lost,” Vesemir grunts, finally pulling away. “I just… don’t know where I’m going.”

“Come to my camp,” suggests Filavandrel. As if he even had to ask.

Unsurprisingly, elves make their camps much differently than witchers do. When they arrive Vesemir doesn’t immediately see any sort of bedroll, and then he feels embarrassed for looking. He never feels this way around anyone else; he can make bawdy jokes with Sven or blatantly hit on Luka, but in the company of Filavandrel aén Fidháil, shame bursts through him so easily.

Maybe he just has a thing for pretty blondes who he leaves behind.

Except Fil is here, smiling indulgently as Vesemir gapes like a fool. “It’s nice,” he finally manages to say. “Want me to set a fire?”

“A campfire, sure. Not a big one,” Filavandrel teases. Swallowing, Vesemir turns to a firepit that the elf must have fashioned himself. He takes a bundle of wood that’s already been cut and easily ignites it, all the while trying to figure out why his heart is pounding so damn loud. Thank fuck that Filavandrel isn’t a witcher.

“Have you eaten?”

“No. You?”

“I was going to have some bread, and go hunting in the morning.” There’s a small noise and when Vesemir turns to look, his friend is holding out a large chunk of bread. It doesn’t even look that stale. Vesemir sees that Filavandrel has taken a much smaller piece for himself and growls about it, but the elf snatches the smaller piece away before Vesemir can lunge for it. “I don’t want to hear any self-sacrificial bullshit about how witchers don’t need to eat. Take the damn bread, Ves.”

“... Fine,” Vesemir relents, cowed. He accepts the bread, fingertips accidentally brushing over Filavandrel’s when he takes it. It’s fucking delicious, melting in his mouth almost instantly. Seeds and herbs have been baked into it too, and Vesemir savours every bite, moaning. “You should quit being a professional elf and start a new life as a baker, fuck.”

“I can do both. It’s an old recipe, needs a stone oven. And what does being a professional elf even mean?” Filavandrel reaches up to shove him, except they aren’t very far away from each other so the push nearly knocks Vesemir off his balance. Before he can tip over onto the grass Filavandrel grabs him by the collar of his gambeson and tugs him back, and, well. Vesemir may be a witcher, but parts of him are still human. 

Neither of them has to say a word; he opens for Filavandrel like he’s been thinking of nothing but this since the second they laid eyes on each other. Honestly, he sort of has. Fil runs a hand over the shaved part of his head, pressing his palm against the back of his neck to pull him in closer. Vesemir moans, chasing the taste of something sweet and acidic and magic. It certainly isn’t the fucking bread.

Afterwards they lie together by the smoldering remains of the fire, both too spent to clean themselves or dress. Vesemir glances over at the cinders and thinks about making an exit soon. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to stay with Filavandrel. He’s comfortable here, especially right now, and his friend always makes his heart feel lighter. But the Path calls to him; lying here without his weapons or armour, Vesemir can nearly hear Deglan’s scolding. And that thought is enough to ruin anyone’s afterglow.

Before he can move, Filavandrel sits up, arching his back. Vesemir turns to watch him, nearly salivating at how he looks in the low firelight. His hair is radiant, and his skin isn’t nearly flushed enough. He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Selfishly, Vesemir wishes that he’d left more marks.

Fil climbs to his feet and crosses the campsite to retrieve something out of reach. Vesemir cranes his neck to try and peek, and Filavandrel laughs kindly at him. “I was just thinking that something’s missing.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Vesemir says, lowering his head back down onto the ground. “I should have kissed you more.”

The elf pauses at that before finally demanding, “Kiss me later.” A note resounds through the air, clear and beautiful; then a chord, and another. Very soon their little clearing feels more like a fairy circle than a campground as Filavandrel plays music. 

He finally walks into view, still naked, still beautiful. Now holding a lute. Vesemir tries to sit up so that he can properly see the performance but Filavandrel is faster, moving over him and then sitting atop his stomach, resting his back against Vesemir’s thighs. He plays the entire time, fingers moving adeptly over the instrument.

It’s a beautiful lute, probably made of some holy dark red wood. The golden design etched into it is mesmerizing, and the strings could have been plucked from the mane of a unicorn. Vesemir hardly spares it any attention, too wrapped up in the sight of a naked Filavandrel straddling him and singing.

He’ll only realize decades later that the elf was probably trying to court him.

Someone knocks on the door to his chambers and Vesemir jumps to his feet, caught off-guard by the sound that plucked him from his memories. He finds Jaskier waiting outside his room, toying idly with the sleeves of his doublet. Vesemir shakes his head, holding the door open for Jaskier even as he apologizes. “I’m sorry for running out earlier. I meant to give you a tour of the Keep, hopefully Geralt will have stepped up in my absence, but I am sorry—”

“No— please,” Jaskier interrupts. Once more he pulls his lute from around himself, holding it out to Vesemir. “I just… Your countenance changed dramatically upon seeing this, so…”

Fuck. “Yes,” Vesemir sighs, staring at the lute. Jaskier has managed to keep it in good condition after all this time. “I… Filavandrel and I are old friends.”

The bard’s eyes bulge out of his head but he enters Vesemir’s chambers, heading straight to the desk to perch on the edge of the chair. Vesemir finds another chair for himself, moving its previous occupant— a stack of books— onto the floor. In his defence, he hadn’t expected the tour of Kaer Morhen to begin in his personal chambers.

“He didn’t mention knowing any other witchers,” Jaskier hums. “How did you meet him?”

“You’re sure you want to know? It’s sort of a long story.” The bard just nods, eager and polite. Instantly Vesemir can see why Geralt likes him. “Alright,” he obliges, reaching for the bottle of wine on the desk. They’re going to need it. “We met long before you would have been born…”

 ---

 South of Kaedwen, the seasons are more aligned than any other part of the Continent. The winters are crisp, the summers lazy. Filavandrel likes to spend his summers here, where the canopy of trees is thick enough to provide shade but thin enough to provide colour. Everything is verdant, the flowers calling to him as he passes each one. When he was a child he had longed to visit towns and experience human delights like festivals but now he knows better. The elves live off the land well enough anyway.

Some of the younger people in his company these days have that same yearning, and some of them even manage it. One elf who resembles Toruviel always runs off to see some different show, take in some new performance. If Filavandrel thought that she could get away with it, he would pay for her to attend Oxenfurt— she’s very good. And the upside of her risking her life just to listen to music is that she’s got a very good memory, and she always brings the songs back home.

Today she’s singing some new ode to a witcher; not that bigoted anthem of lies that the bastard warbler from Posada somehow spread through the Continent, thank the Gods. This one seems to revolve more around making the right choice, and how a real hero does good deeds not for coin or his own profit, but just to be good. Filavandrel thinks about the few witchers that he’s had the misfortune of contacting over the years, and under his breath he scoffs.

Cheesy chorus aside, the lyrics seem to have some merit. The first verse is all about some terrible monster that was taking young girls, transforming them into half-beasts. The hero witcher’s judgement fails him and he blames himself for years, even losing a lover in the process. Filavandrel scowls; despite his own experiences with witches, he doesn’t want to listen to a song written by yet another prejudiced bard.

Then the third verse lands. The witcher grows old and wise and has children of his own, and he regrets his inaction and he tries to reach out to contact his lover. But at that point his lover, who devoted his life to protecting those in danger, was too busy being King of the Silver Towers. Filavandrel stops dead in his tracks as he realizes which witcher this must have been inspired by.

The elven king huffs, starting to compose a route in his head. He thinks a trip up north is long overdue.

[kookicrumbs]

╰ pink love

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 2985 warnings; like one super minor curse word (hell)! just some cutesy stuff for ya today! summary: jungwon and y/n go on a build-a-bear date! a/n: i really wanted to do something sweet beacuse i love fluff a whole lot, so please enjoy c:

“Are we there yet?” I pout, tugging on Jungwon’s sweater. I attempt to sway him with my best puppy eyes, but he continues walking, pulling me along with him.

“This honestly reminds me of a movie,” He laughs out, “Since when did asking a million times get us there faster?”

I’m not actually that annoyed, but it’s fun to tease him. “What if this is all a movie? Ya think we can break the fourth wall?”

“I don’t know, I’d consider us powerful enough to. If this is a movie, I’m obviously the main character. Since you’re my girlfriend, you can be my sidekick!”

“Ohh, ha, ha, ha. If I’m the sidekick, pigs can fly.”

He puts on a shocked expression, pointing up into the air. “Did I just hear an oink all the way up there?”

“Shut up!” We giggle, shoving each other with our shoulders. Our footsteps match each other as we pad through the open-air mall. Warm sunlight drifts down, encasing us in a soft bubble of relaxation.

“Hey look, I think that’s it!” Jungwon tightens his grip on my hand and we take off towards the familiar shop. As we run, the eyes of other passerbys follow us, but I don’t take the time to feel embarrassed; life’s too short for that.

My legs are shorter than his, so I nearly trip several times. The universe is totally watching out for me today though, because we manage to arrive at the store’s entrance without suffering from a single scratch or bruise.

The Build-A-Bear logo passes overhead as we make our way inside. We are still glued together, buzzing from the excitement of our date. We’re going to make bears for each other! With any other guy I might have found it cheesy, but when Jungwon suggested we do it, my heart fluttered in a strange way.

“Hello! Welcome to Build-A-Bear Workshop! My name is Kiana,” A sunny looking lady welcomes us with a large smile on her face. The cute bobble headband perched on her hair seems to wave at us as well. “Will you two be needing any help today?”

Jungwon throws one arm over my shoulder and presses me tight to his side. His dimples peek out playfully as he responds. “I think we’re okay right now, we’re gonna make some bears for each other. This is my girlfriend!” He looks so proud as our eyes meet, and my stomach twists. Even though we’ve been dating for one and a half years now, whenever he looks at me like that, it feels like the day I first met him.

We’d been at the movie theatre, not together, but coincidentally there on the same day. Jungwon was sitting in the seat in front of me with a couple of his friends, while I was there with my own. His buddies were being idiots and throwing popcorn and other snacks at each other, when a whole bucket came flying at me. Being my easily scared self, I screamed and jumped backwards, simultaneously kicking my legs out and up. It took a few seconds to realize that my feet hadn’t collided with Jungwon’s seat, but instead his head.

I’d been absolutely mortified, and my friends’ muffled laughter didn’t help with that. I’d expected a huge tantrum from him, considering his friends seemed the type to start a huge fight over it, but his reaction was the complete opposite. In fact, he was apologetic and blamed it all on the buffoon who launched the snack at me.

I immediately caught feelings when he laughed and complimented my kick; apparently he knew taekwondo, and he thought I’d be good at it. He got that from a poorly done, unaimed kick to his own skull. To this day, I think I knocked something out of place there, but what can ya do.

Regardless, we ended up exchanging numbers, which is something that confused the hell out my friends and I. A month later, we started going out. I’ve dated some questionable people, so getting the chance to be with someone like Jungwon is a dream come true for me. Another plus, I finally get to check “Build A Bear date” off of my date idea list!

“You guys look adorable together!” Kiana gushed. My cheeks heat up, but not in an awkward way. “We have all our plushes over there. You can take a look and pick one, and then we’ll get that all filled up for you.”

“Thank you!” Jungwon and I say at the same time before strutting towards the plushies.

“We should split up so our bears, or whatever we pick for each other, stays a surprise! Okay?” I’m already looking at each option, and I begin to wonder how I’m ever going to pick just one.

“Since it looks like the queen has already laid claim to this particular piece of territory, I’ll go browse the accessories so I can get your plush decked out in a gorgeous outfit.” He winks and makes his way to the rows of plushie-sized clothing.

The variety of options is amazing. There’s the classic bears, but there’s also other cute things, like lobsters, giraffes, and seals. I’m a sucker for the classics, so I want to pick out a bear for Jungwon.

Two specific bears are in a fight for my love. One is a simple vanilla color with rainbow sprinkle accents, and the other is a pink bear with heart shaped ruffles. Oh god, do I just… buy both? No, that’s be stupid. Eeny meeny miney moe, a classic just like the bear.

I’m not disappointed when my finger lands on the pink bear, meaning I made the right choice and won’t have to switch to the vanilla bear out of a previously hidden lust for it. Awesome.

I peek my head around the aisle and still see Jungwon sorting through racks of outfits. In the time I’d spent picking a plush for him, he grabbed a basket and began filling it with stuff I couldn’t make out. Comfortable with the fact that he isn’t looking, I sneak over to the filling station, the pink bear clutched tightly in my hands.

“Hi! I’d love to get this guy filled, please!” The man working at this station has a name tag that reads, “Jordan”, and he looks equally nice as Kiana.

“Good choice,” He leads me to a filling spot. “Are they for you or for someone else?”

My chuckle causes the worker to smile. I reply while he gathers a few items. “My boyfriend and I came here for a cute date, so it’s for him! This one is super cute so I had to get it for him.”

“Aww, I’ll have to write that down. I'm sure my partner would find it a great idea too!” Jordan sweeps his arm across in a grand gesture, showcasing the variety of hearts and other button-looking objects that sit before him.

“Would you be interested in adding a sound to your bear? You can pick from any of these or you can record your own.”

I pick quickly, sure of what I want to do. “Mm, I’d like to do a recording, if possible. Make it extra special, right?”

“Of course, let me grab that for you and you can record your message!” He gets the heart and let’s me know what to do. Once again making sure Jungwon is not nearby, I record my message and hand it back to Jordan. He puts it in the bear, a small smile playing on his lips. Did he hear me?

“Alright, perfect. Any scents or are you ready to stuff?”

I choose a sweet raspberry scent and get the bear stuffed. It’s fun to push the pedal and see the stuffed animal become plumper, until I finally fill them all the way up. Hugging it feels like hugging a cloud.

I thank Jordan and hide the bear behind my back as I go to the dressing area. Jungwon seems to have moved on, as I spot him at the plushie picking station. I wonder what he’ll get me. Knowing him, it’s going to be adorable.

His eyes meet mine and I suppress a squeal, making sure the bear is out of sight. My strange salute makes him smile and he turns back to picking a plush for me, but not before making sure I won’t look while he gets one.

“So, what would you wear…” I whisper to the pink bear. He seems fashionable and needs something that fits his personality.

Each outfit makes me want to curl up and scream. They’re all so cute and tiny, and I can’t help but want to grab a whole bunch. I create outfits in my head, imagining each on the plushie. Letting the bear try them on seems like a step too far. Instead, I pick up a white button down shirt, pressed pants, little shoes, and a pair of heart shaped sunglasses from my pile and get to dressing.

Putting everything on the pink bear proves to be a struggle. “Come on… tuck in your tummy!” The bear’s legs don’t want to squeeze into the pants I picked. Looks like Build-A-Bear needs more size options. After a somewhat graphic commotion involving lots of pulling, pushing, and whispered yelling, he is finally clothed.

“Jungwon better like what I picked because I don’t think that’s ever coming off.” I brush off my shirt and hope that no one was watching my heated argument with an inanimate object.

I swiftly finish up the washing part of the process, which consisted of pressured air being blown at my plush. I enjoyed seeing the bear’s fur waving around luxuriously. It really fit his vibe. I end up having to consult an employee about what to do next since my amnesiac brain likes to forget simple things: it’s naming time.

After I scan the pink bear’s tag, a naming screen is brought up. I’m given suggestions like Mr. Cuddles, Tiny, and Snuggles, but I choose to make his own name. What do I name you?

Maybe Love? Too plain. Bear? Way too basic. Pink? Pinky? I clearly don’t get around to naming things very often. If it hadn’t been for my siblings, I would have named our dog Cat.

I rack my brain for anything. At this point, the next thing that pops into my head is gonna be his name. No turning back. And my brain provides. Sir Loves-a-lot is inexplicably forged in the depths of my mind, and it shall be the name of this honorable bear.

I imagine a knighting ceremony for Sir Loves-a-lot and enter his name into the computer. It goes through and I get a printed certificate with his name on it. I’m extremely excited to give him to Jungwon and see his reaction.

Jungwon seems to be finishing up at the washing station, so I pay and wait near the entrance of Build-A-Bear. I swing around my finished bear, which is tucked neatly into a bag so Jungwon can’t see it yet. Our date is soon to reach its peak: when we get to see our finished products.

“Hey! Look what I have!” Jungwon skips over to me in a playful manner. His joy envelops me as he gets nearer. His eyes are alight with what looks to be the same thing I’m currently feeling. Is it love?

I show off my bag, my competitive side instantly coming out. “I’ve got yours right here too! If you want to see it… you’ll have to catch me!”

Adrenaline shoots through me as I take off running, Jungwon quickly shifting into a quick runner. My laughs impair my speed as I hiccup and yell, Jungwon’s voice matching my own. We both giggle like idiots while our shoes run thin on the hard ground and our bags crinkle with the whip of the wind.

“Got you!” Jungwon takes care not to throw me onto the ground, instead grabbing my shirt and pulling me to his chest. He lets out an umph as I knock into him full force, still reeling from the sudden shift in direction.

“Jungwon!” A shriek of laughter explodes out of me as we tumble to the concrete with a soft thump. No one is around as we breath off our fit of giggles, still in a heap.

“Looks like my bear made it.” He lifts up his unscatched bag. “Can I say the same of yours?”

A strike of fear hits me, but quickly dissolves when I see my bag looks fine. “I am pleased to report that Combat Bear Number 2 has survived.”

“Combat Bear Number 2? Don’t tell me that’s his name. What a mouthful!” He puts a hand to his chest and sighs dramatically.

“Don’t be stupid, I named him Sir— wait! Don’t try and cheat!” I softly whack him on the shoulder, earning a look of faux-sadness.

“Ouch. But you named him Sir… something. What a noble name! Of course, nothing but the best can come from you.” He holds out the Build-A-Bear bag. “But I’m actually dying to exchange these, so swap?”

“If that isn’t the most relatable thing ever.” I hand him my bag and he gives me his. “You can open mine first!”

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do.” He eagerly opens the bag and pulls out the tissue-paper wrapped bear. The material easily comes off and he holds it up. His eyes seem to glow with delight.

“Oh my gosh.” Jungwon swipes at Sir Loves-a-lot’s fur, fascinated by the heart-shaped ruffles. “He’s so cute! His clothes are... so tight,” His face betrays his confusion, and I snicker as he speaks, “but he looks hella fashionable! I really hope mine will live up to these standards.” He seems to get nervous so I hold his hands to try and calm him down.

“What do you think I named him?”

His mouth shapes into an “O” and he pulls out the certificate. His previously timid face transforms immediately as he reads it.

“Sir Loves-a-lot? Why?! So cheesy but so good!” He crumples onto himself, his head coming to a rest between his knees. I’m overjoyed by his reaction and I press forward to hug his side.

“I love him so much. I’ll cherish him forever.” He looks at me pointedly, almost like he’s trying to tell me something. He switches course though, gesturing to the bag that lies at my feet. “Now open yours!”

I cross my legs to get more comfortable, and I open the bag, wondering what he made for me. My heart dances when I see what he chose. It’s a blue bear with stars in her fur and white wings protruding from her back. I didn’t even see it when I was picking my bear for him.

“Woah…” I hold her up, noticing a soft scent coming from her fur. When I lift the bear up to my nose, I can detect citrus. “Jungwon, you made her smell like lemons! I love lemon… and—and look how pretty! All the stars, and the color… she’s perfect.”

I look at the certificate, all bright and new, and see her name: Mrs. Lovey. Mrs., not Ms.

Jungwon looks at me innocently. “What do you think, am I making my point clear? The future is never far away and I—”

I can’t help but turn away as I feel a prickle in my eyes. Never will I ever cry on a date.

“Awww! Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry!” Jungwon leaps towards me, catching me off-guard. I end up falling backwards with a yelp, but he throws his hand under my head and catches me before I can slam into the concrete.

We stare at each other for what seems like hours but is in actuality only seconds. The silence is loud, but Jungwon slices right through it when he whispers to me, “Is this a kdrama?”

“And… off!” I sit up, hugging my bear closer to me. I’m overwhelmed by Jungwon’s confession. He wants us to really stay together. As in, I’d be his “one”.

“Is—is that what you want too? It’s okay if not, I’ll understand if you wouldn’t be ready, even in the months it would take to get there, unless sooner is better, and I—” He rambles, more emotional than I am, before I put a finger to his lips.

“Yeah, it’s what I want too. I think we should go with your plan, um, wait a little longer since we’re so young and I don’t want to scare my parents.” That earns a laugh out of us both. “But the answer to “would I want it?” is definitely yes!”

Jungwon hugs me tightly, squealing in my ear. I squeal right back, suddenly lighter than ever.

“Dude, I want to say something. Yep, here I go. I— I love you!” Jungwon yells out to me, loud enough to wake up everyone half-way across the world. My heart expands when he says it. I want to scream it back and kiss him under the blue sky, but he continues speaking.

“Okay, look, even though I would have totally respected you for saying you wouldn’t want what I want, I’m feeling so relieved right now. Like whooh! I could jump off a plane! Ride the biggest wave! Sir Loves-a-lot here would come with me, wouldn’t you?” He high fives his bear.

I’m confused when his eyebrow raises. “Did you put a sound in him? Why didn’t you tell me?” Truthfully, I’d forgotten too. However, I smirk as I remember what I recorded.

“Press it.” I urge him to push on the bear’s paw, and he does, putting it near his ear so he can hear it better. The clear sound of my voice comes through, bringing waves of pink, soft love to both Jungwon and I.

“I really, really love you.”

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

[mai-sau]

Prompt "give me attention" for kidnap family?

"haha, im gonna take it easy with prompts this time around, only a few hundred words -" cue spongebob title card "2.3k words later"

seriously tho thank you for the prompt!! (and sorry about the wait!) i had fun working on this one bc well i love any chance to write about this lil family of murderers and tiny bois :') hope u enjoy!!

Prompt: "Give me attention."

“Nelyo.”

“Nelyo.”

“Ne-”

Thump. Maedhros slammed his book shut. A puff of dust wheezed out from the crusty pages; Maglor could make out the swirl of particles flying about in the dim shafts of sunlight peeking into his brother’s study from windows that he was sure were clean at some point in their existence.

Said brother tossed a glare over to Maglor from the other side of his desk.

“You’re allowed to be here. Quietly.” Maedhros threw a pointed look towards the abandoned scroll in Maglor’s hands.

“But I’m so very lonely, Nelyo,” Maglor pouted, and dropped the scroll on the desk. The parchment rolled out towards Maedhros, whose face was fast approaching the same shade as his hair. “Besides, I’ve already taken care of all my correspondence for the day. Nothing much else to do, really, but seek out the company of my darling brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Maedhros grit out, rubbing his temple in terse little circles. Which one of them he was reminding Maglor couldn’t say.

“Only by a few years,” Maglor teased. He let the corners of his lip curl up - he was well aware this made him look like “a cat about to feast on the fattest saucer of milk it’s ever conned” according to his brother, and that was why he did it.

On top of that dusty old book, Maedhros’ fingers twitched. Got you.

“Come on, Nelyo,” he whined. “Give me attentiooon.”

Maedhros threw him a positively hateful look, but Maglor knew he wouldn’t throw him out just yet. By this point, Maglor liked to think he knew his brother well enough.

There were some things he didn’t, of course, and this was fine. When his brother would wake and traipse out to the courtyard in the dead of night, staring at the moon hungrily for hours and hours as if he would never glimpse its light amidst the pitch dark again; when one of the many elves around Amon Ereb would do something wrong - not when one of their craftsmen made the same excited little exclamation as Curvo used to, or hunters fletched their arrows just how Tyelko did, Maglor understood these, at least - but a request phrased too sweetly, an abrupt movement, a smile too wide, and Maedhros’ throat would tighten, his words clipped, before excusing himself to go lock himself in his room for an hour, or two, or three: these parts of his brother Maglor may never know.

But he knew much, or at least enough. A few months after they’d taken in the twins, Maglor had just finished mopping an explosion of jam on the dining floor and sweeping up the shards of what was once the hefty jar that contained it. He’d first gently let Elros know that if they wanted food, they need only ask; he’d then let him know that no, of course they wouldn’t cast him out for breaking the jam jar, with no small amount of tears or internal panic on either end of that conversation.

By the time Maglor slunk into Maedhros’ study that evening to go over reports from around the fortress, he was maybe a bit tired. When Maedhros told him to wait for just a few minutes while he wrapped something or other up, Maglor might’ve let slip a touch of petulance and no small amount of theatrics into his voice when he asked when his dear Nelyo could spare just a moment for his poor baby brother, simply wilting away from the neglect.

Maglor had frozen, fearful of what his second-most severe brother would have to say in response to - well, whining. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself do so. Oh, he’d been quite the brat in Valinor, and used to be quite proud of that fact, thank you. Each and every one of his brothers’ last nerves practically had his name on it. But it seemed ever since they arrived here, it was as if they simply couldn’t afford the waste of time. Ribbing was a favored pastime of his in Aman, but Beleriand offered no such frivolities.

But living with the twins, putting on playful words and coaxing laughter from two young faces that Maglor couldn’t bear to see two seconds from breaking anymore, had apparently loosened his discipline.

He’d thought Maedhros would treat him to one of his signature frowns, barking at him that neither of them had time to make things any harder for each other, but instead he’d… laughed. Just the slightest huff of air, yes, but a laugh nonetheless. Maglor hadn’t heard his brother laugh since…

Well, if anything, he was honoring his cousin’s memory.

So Maglor experimented over the years, let a few more teases and whines slip into his day-to-day interactions with Maedhros. His brother had since mustered a valiant effort to act annoyed, but Maglor could still catch a muffled chuckle or smothered grin here and there.

So. All in all, he’s sure he knows his brother pretty well at this point, and Maedhros was not troubled (bad), just bothered (good).

Which, of course, meant they could continue to play; Maglor would show no mercy.

“Please? Please, please? Just a smidgen of tender love and care from my dearly beloved big brother?” Maglor asked, eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned over the desk. His hair, inky black, spilled all over his scroll.

Maedhros’ nose twitched. His right ear flicked. Oh yes. He was close to a chuckle now, he could tell. His dearly beloved big brother stood no fucking chance.

“Oh dear Eru, let my brother pay attention to - MANWË’S TITS!” Maglor shrieked, springing up from his seat after spotting a dark shadow peeking through the window.

His brother whirled around. Quick as a viper, his hand darted out to grasp the hilt of his sword. Despite this, Maglor could hear a choked noise he was more than halfway certain was the chuckle he had so desperately hunted. Oh well.

A chubby face stared right back at them, eyes round as saucers. Wait, make that two faces.

Both Maglor and Maedhros sagged with relief.

“Elros, can you please come in?” Maglor croaked, feeling five feet to the left of his physical body. “You too, Elrond.”

The two of them nodded bashfully, heads bobbing as they fumbled over to the glass. And they were… flapping. Each twin sported small brown wings on their back, looking much like the falcons Tyelko used to play with as a child. Maglor supposed, thinking of a great bird soaring away over the sea with light itself clutched tight in its talons, maybe they should have expected this one in particular.

Elros pushed once, twice at the windows, tiny arms straining against the pane and looking more panicked by the second. Behind him, Elrond simply pointed to the - oh, the window latch. Yes.

Maedhros stood up and flicked it open. Elros came tumbling through, nearly bashing his skull on the desk before Maedhros caught him midair.

Elrond flew in smoothly and landed on Maglor’s empty chair, wings neatly folding in. Maedhros dumped Elros on his own chair. His wing smacked Maedhros’ arm by mistake.

“We talked about this. No new shapeshifting without me or Maglor there,” Maedhros said, fixing each of them with a stern look.

Both the twins looked down at this. Elrond wrung his little wrists.

“We’re sorry!” Elros burst out, tears welling up in his eyes. “We won’t do it again, promise!”

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart,” Maglor told him.

“And the time before that,” Maedhros grumbled.

“What we’re saying, dear, is that we understand that you’re sorry. But keeping your word has to take first priority,” Maglor explained softly.

Maedhros coughed.

“Or, er, not doing it again,” Maglor corrected. “That’s what counts.”

“We understand,” Elros sniffled. “It’s just, we wanted to hear, but you weren’t there to check with, because well, you were here, and, well, um, yes -”

“Bringing us to the next point of order,” Maedhros rumbled. He raised a brow at both of them. “Eavesdropping. We have also been over this.”

Oh dear. Elros looked like he was about to drown in a puddle of tears. Maglor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades soothingly, careful of the new feathery appendages.

Thankfully, Elrond stepped in. “We remember, it’s not nice because we like to be in private sometimes and it’s not fair for us to not let other people be too,” he recited shyly. “Um, we just… we know you both meet up a lot like this, and we know it's important… but… um…” His lip trembled; his voice cracked. “Do you... talk about us? Do you not want us to hear because it’s bad? Because we can do better!” He promised quickly, eyes wide and wet. “Elros is getting really good at his music lessons, he’s practicing a lot! And I’m working on my writing lessons every day!”

Something in Maglor’s chest twisted. “Oh, honey, no -”

But his brother beat him to the punch. Striding out from behind the desk, he knelt down in front of Elrond. “Can I hug you?” he asked very quietly.

Elrond bit his lip and nodded. Without another word, Maedhros wrapped him up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, Maedhros’ hulking frame wrapped around Elrond’s body, like a drape of russet locks, leather and rich furs. When his brother finally pulled away, he gave a heavy look to both children.

“We will never give you away because you’re not good enough. Alright? You will always be good enough. Both of you,” he told them. He reached out and covered Elrond’s tiny hand with his own, fingers curling around and intertwining. “And not because you’re caught up on your lessons, or do what we say.”

“Though those are certainly nice,” Maglor added. He flashed them a teasing grin before taking care to soften his expression once more, and laid a gentle hand on Elros’ shoulder. “You will always have our love. And nothing, not even the worst jam spill, or missed harp lesson - don’t think I didn’t notice that last week, dearest - can ever reach in and steal it. It is your’s by blood and birthright.”

“Love you,” Elros sniffled. Elrond echoed him, voice no less wobbly.

Maedhros gifted them with a small smile. “Love you both, starlights.”

“And -” Elros started, hiccuped, and continued. “And same for me too. Nothing can change that! I’ll always love you two.”

Maglor felt a pang of sickly guilt invade his chest and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maedhros stiffen.

“Me too,” Elrond said, voice suddenly clear. Maglor glanced at him and met a gaze that seemed years ahead of its time; he froze, rooted to the spot. “We’ll always love you no matter what you do.”

“Well -” Maglor started. “That’s…”

“No need to worry about us,” Maedhros recovered quickly, waving his hand. “Now then, it’s nearing bedtime, hm?”

“But wait!” Elros cried. “What were you two talking about then?”

“Yes! We saw Atya going like this,” Elrond clasped his pudgy hands together and shook them. “And his voice sounded all funny, and then he prayed to Eru about Atar paying more attention to Manwe’s t-”

“ALRIGHT!” Maglor yelped, clapping his hands. His face must’ve been steaming, his cheeks were burning, oh stars - “Bedtime!”

“But we want to know why you were saying all those funny things,” Elros complained loudly. His voice slipped into a high pitched whine, dripping with petulance. “Nelyo, Nelyo, give me attentioooon -”

“I do not sound like that!” Maglor gasped, scooping up a giggling Elrond to be carried to bed.

“I do not sound like that!”

Maglor turned around, gaping. That was not Elros’ voice.

Maedhros stared back. His eyes glinted with mirth and the most shit-eating grin curled his lips. In his arms was a starstruck Elros, who looked no less shocked than if the clouds themselves had just burst into song and danced a lively jig. And quite frankly, Maglor would be less surprised.

Maedhros dealt him one last smirk before twirling on his heel and walking out of the room to go deposit one elfling in his bed. Maglor still had the other, who poked his cheek.

“Atya? Are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Maglor felt a smile grow across his face. His eyes stung with tears. He quickly wiped them with his sleeve before they could fatten and spill over his cheeks and probably make Elrond worry even more.

“Wonderful, dear.” He frowned for a second, considering. “Although I think there is a dreadful amount of mockery in my future.”

He looked down at Elrond. His son merely tilted his round head, offering a blank look. Maglor sighed happily. “But that’s okay.”

XXX

In time, it became clear that there was no need to worry about the looming threat of brotherly teasing paid back in full; Maedhros may have been looser with his laughter, but even this was a rare occasion still. Maglor did not mind, for any time he saw his brother’s eyes alight with anything other than fatal passion was a gift.

The true threat that lurked within Amon Ereb made itself known eventually.

Two weeks later, Maglor was scurrying to meet up with one of the smiths to discuss pending repairs but stopped short in front of a small figure in the courtyard blocking his path.

“Not now, sweetheart, Atya’s very busy,” Maglor told Elrond, harried, ready to flag down someone on the way to attend to whatever his son needed.

And then it happened. Elrond’s face crumpled just so. His eyes widened: big, round, and wet. His lip wobbled. When he opened his mouth, his voice took on a tone so absolutely, horribly pitiful that Maglor half-suspected the echo of Lúthien herself lived in his words.

“Please, Atya,” he begged, every word a death sentence. “Give me attentiooon.”

Oh Eru, Maglor despaired, even as he opened his arms for an evil little elfling to leap into, repairs forgotten. I’ve made a monster.

[vegalocity]

Fluff 12or11or10 for ironbull (pif X dbk) if you're okay with writing this ship :-DD

Dialogue starters

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

11. “I’m so proud of you.”

12. “Could you say that again?” “Were you not listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice."

I haven't written for Ironbull before so this got a lil long

--

Back when they had more of a court it would be up to the servants to help Iron Fan get prepared in the morning, the fashion of the era would make more ornate clothing difficult to put on singlehandedly and her more ornate hair style choices nearly impossible to do alone.

But she didn’t trust the Bull Clones to do it for her, so in the time between their court falling apart and her King being freed, it had been Red Son’s job to help his mother with her continued fashion choices (on days where she was willing to get out of bed)

But now her husband was back. And-- okay yes, initially she had been continuing to go to Red Son to help her into her perfectly stylized peaks and lace her up, but only because she didn’t want to put that on her husband so soon after him being freed!

But after they’d left the city (ignoring her husband and son’s attempts to ‘go straight’ at New Years as her foolish boy had put it) it had become far more obvious to the Bull King that Iron Fan’s preferred style required assistance.

And when they were both starting their morning rituals, and Iron Fan gathered together her hairbrush and outfit for the day, ready to forcibly wake her son up from another ‘tinkering’ bender (or force him to sleep if he was awake and twitchy at his silly worktable, that horrid sugary smell of energy drinks absolutely oozing from the room) Her husband spoke up.

“My princess-”

“Yes my love?”

“May I assist you in getting ready for the day?”

She supposed with most married couples without servants, that it would be expected for the husband to assist the wife with various grooming habits that required hands in places she couldn’t reach on her own.

They’d been married for centuries.

They had a child together who was now a man in his own rights.

They’d spent the first night he was home (despite the sting of defeat making it a mote bittersweet) thoroughly ‘reacquainting’ with eachother.

Why did her face feel hot as if they were still courting?

All the same, she nodded, offering her husband the top she couldn’t quite reach the back lacing of as she slid into the skirt.

He shrunk down about as small as he could be without making himself uncomfortable, still towering over her easily, though sat on the bed that he was. She felt her husband’s fingers fumble a bit with the laces as he strung the top tight (but not too tight) against her back. She felt those claws gently and harmlessly catch every so often on skin, and did indeed feel much the same as she did as a starry eyed youth, eager and excited to be courted by a bull prince slotted to become a king of his family’s mountain oh so long ago.

It really had been far too long they’d been apart, and launching into the revenge plots had possibly been a mistake. If something so simple and domestic was enough to make a youthful jittery feeling return to her stomach.

But Princess Iron Fan was no blushing ingenue, even back then. So she began to lay out the day’s plans, they were in the middle of properly rebuilding their court after all and they needed allies, so she’d been putting out some feelers to anyone they still had a blood oath or two with, though some had faded into obscurity and others into ineffectiveness, and Demon Courts weren’t exactly that much of a ‘Thing’ anymore they should still be giving it a shot.

And just then she felt her husband finish up tying up her top she was about to go over to her vanity and get started on the tangled mass that her hair had become in the night when without even saying a word the Bull King placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place and began to work on her hair himself.

“Could you say that again? About the Ocelot family?”

“Were you not listening?”

“No I was.” His voice was so light and casual, “I just like hearing your voice.” …She was gonna divorce him right that fucking instant.

“Ah. Well then-” She felt the gentle tugs as the brush was pulled through her hair, and… continued to talk as requested.

What on earth had gotten into her husband this morning?! Sure in their younger years she remembered a more romantic side of him that he only was comfortable to show in private, but she’d thought that after being buried beneath that mountain for half a millenia he’d lost it along with his fur (though she’d never mention it out loud, she knew he was self conscious about that particular cosmetic change) and she’d been alright with that, she’d been without such attentions for five hundred years it wasn’t a struggle to reconcile.

But the idea that it was slowly returning seemed to be.

Eventually the brush stopped catching on tangles, and this part she knew he wouldn’t be able to do on his own. The look she’d favored her hair to take had slowly evolved over the years, yes, but it had for the most part kept the same general shape and style as it had even back then, and the servants would often fuss over her hair when there were three of them working on it at once. She and Red Son had gotten the hang of it when it was only the two of them, but it still needed both of them, and there was no way that the Bull King would have any idea of what he was doing in that regard. So once again she moved to pull away and go hunt down their son, but the hand returned to her shoulder.

“Stop moving-” a tone of fond exasperation made her follow as requested before her brain even caught up with it. “I won’t be able to get it in the style you prefer my princess, but would you let me braid it?”

He had no. fucking. Right. Her heart leaped into her throat and Iron Fan found herself helpless but to allow her husband’s doting to continue.They weren’t expecting anyone today, nor were there any plans to leave, so it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if she didn’t have her hair as pristine as usual anyway.

He began to confer with her over the day’s plans, admittedly it was mostly going to be a ‘writing letters’ day as they discussed back and forth which former allies it would be worth to seek out, so if anything the simpler hairstyle for the day would probably be a help as it would mean she didn’t have to worry about her center of gravity needing to be adjusted.

By the time her husband was done the tail of the braid only barely brushed the ground, and her head piece was in place (though it was a little more precarious than usual as she had less hair around it to latch onto) and her heart had finally calmed down.

“Thank you, my love.” She turned unobstructed this time and pressed a quick kiss to her husband’s snout. “It’s lovely, I’m proud of you.” He huffed a laugh and she felt the snort of breath tickle her neck.

“Now, shall i help you with your armor as well?”

Well, there was one good thing about her husband loosing his fur, it was amusing to watch his face turn dark burgundy in turn. As if he didn’t just spend the last hour making her feel like a flustered teenager.

She was due for a little revenge after all.

--

Send me Stuff!

[foodieforthoughts]

Deep in Love

Summary: It's been too long since Chris has been away. When his flight gets delayed, she's sad. But wakes up to Chris ready to take her breath away.

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+ content, bodily fluids, oral (female receiving), sexual Intercourse, unprotected sex

A/N: I had to give some loving to my other muse, Mr. Evans. First ever smut and I would like to start with him because he has been the object of my fantasies for more than a decade.

Title: Deep in Love

Chris hated it when I watch his interviews online. He said he only acts the way the public wants him to be like, a little naughty for PR, a little held down to not come off as uncivilized or too out spoken.

To some extent I agreed. Chris was the human equivalent of a teddy bear, soft and cuddly and his intellect was beyond what could be projected through the camera. Chris was more than just a face and I was lucky to see him for who he really was.

Waking up to his sleep ladden eyes, heavy voice with tousled hair was the best sight for me. But I would never lie that seeing him on screen, all primped and dashing, got me craving for him even more.

Especially when he had been away for months on end and Skype calls could only satisfy me so much.

This particular one that I had stumbled on YouTube, a photoshoot interview that featured him answering the same old questions about his life. He always complained he was so tired of repeating the same things, but it was all part of the job eventually. He looked breathtakingly handsome in this one, the photographer had done a fantastic job.

Chris looked the best with his beard-a personal preferance for him and me alike. It was trimmed neatly, his hair slicked back and the beige and brown outfit complimenting him so well. Hearing his voice, that laugh, it just made me miss him more.

Dodger whined from his place on the adjacent couch. Chris's voice from the speakers seemed to have grabbed his attention too.

"Yeah, buddy. I know. I miss him too." I cooed at him.

My phone rang besides me, a video call from the man himself.

"Hi, babe."

How was it possible to be feeling mushy by your boyfriend's voice even after being together for three years?

"Tell me you are reaching home soon." I went to sit near Dodger, ruffling his fur while I spoke to Chris.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, my flight got delayed because of the weather."

I frowned. I had been so excited for him to finally be with me, even prepared his favourite lasagna and bought his favourite wine. I was hoping that he would make in time for lunch and then we could cuddle in the bed while he slept his jet-lag off.

"Hey," he called out. His eyes soft and apologetic. "I'll be home today, don't you worry. Okay?"

I was afraid if he didn't come home tonight, I might forget what it felt like to be buried in his chest, his arms holding me tight. His scent was already close to a faded memory, no matter how hard I tried to remember it.

"I miss you so much." I sounded a bit whiny there, but I really did miss him a lot.

"I miss you too, baby. I can't wait to kiss you till you become breathless." He said in a sing-song voice, trying to make me laugh.

I did chuckle but the thought of being kissed by Chris untill my lungs gave out felt so hot. As my thoughts began drifting to activities that usually followed our out-of-breath kissing, my cheeks heated up and wetness began forming down south.

Dodger decided to bark at the moment, all the way near the door.

"Oh, someone wants to go pee-pee." Chris chuckled and shook his head.

I was thankful that Chris took no notice of my blush because I wasn't sure if I could handle it if he had decided to tease me with some descriptive imagery of our love making. I glanced at our pooch staring at me with expectant eyes to let him out.

"Wait, I'll just let him out-"

"Actually, I'll call you back. Someone is at the door, probably an update. If I'm late, babe, don't wait up okay? I'll kiss you good morning tomorrow."

I nodded and he was gone. I really didn't want to miss giving him a welcome hug when he came home. I didn't want a good morning kiss, I wanted a good night loving.

"Looks like we'll have to wait a little longer for your dad, Bubba." I told Dodger before letting him out.

***

I had no clue what time it was. When I opened my eyes, our bedroom lights were on, music playing from my ear buds, and a warm presence behind me.

Thought about not locking the door securely, or leaving a window open, giving access to a murderous intruder flooded my mind. I turned so quickly to look at the presence, I had to blink several times from the head rush.

My heart was racing from the fear, but it wasn't an intruder's sinister eyes that met mine. The man with soft, blue green eyes with a tired smile on his face looked back at me.

"Chris?" I sat up instantly, giving myself another head rush. But this was incredulous. I really hoped I wasn't dreaming. "Are you really here?" I stupidly asked.

His chest rumbled with his chuckle, him sitting up too. His face so close to mine, his breath washed over my face. A wide smile spread over my face and I threw my arms around him.

He welcomed me and held me tightly against his chest. Oh, how much had I missed the physical contact between us. He felt so warm, so strong, it made my heart flutter. I took a deep breath, the faint scent of his cologne and soap lingering, enveloping me entirely.

Chris pulled back his face, making me look at him. He placed a gentle hand behind my head and slowly placed a kiss on my lips.

I swear I was about to melt. He pulled me closer with his arm, I was almost straddling him now. Our bodies were flushed together, my arms still around his neck.

His beard scuffed against my face, as his lips moved with mine in perfect synchronization.

I had imagined this moment various times in the past months, about our reunion. It always hurt me when he left but whenever he came back, it felt surreal. I could feel the intensity of our kiss deepen with his tongue beginning to move with mine. Warmth spread from my cheeks, to my chest and settled as a heat pooled between my thighs as I tasted his sweet cavern.

I moaned as I felt his erection beginning to strain against his pants, nudging my thigh through the clothes.

The desperation to feel our bodies close, sans the obstructive fabric of our clothes, was so urgent that we nearly tore them off of our bodies. Chris laid me down on the bed, placing himself in between my legs. His cock was hard and ready and my core wet and dripping for him.

But instead, Chris decided to travel down my body. He gently grabbed a hold of my breasts, kneading them and placing kisses all over. My back arched as he took a hardened nipple in his mouth and sucked at it.

I held onto his arms, feeling the tautness of his muscles underneath my touch. I moaned when one of his hands travelled down my body and teased me at my entrance.

"Baby you are so wet. You really did miss me a lot, huh?" He smirked against my breast, his eyes dark and lustful. He placed kisses over my body, goosebumps appearing on my skin, making his way even further down.

I shuddered when he reached in between my thighs, his warm breath against my quivering folds. I let out a shaky breath when he looked at me, his dark eyes lined by his long lashes.

"Oh..." I moaned as he flicked his tongue over my swollen nub. I felt his fingers rubbing at my entrance before he slid one digit in and took my clit in his mouth.

I moaned out his name like a prayer, my hands reaching out and grasping at his head. His soft hair clutched in mine while he performed his ministrations on me.

The heat pooled at the bottom of my belly. He sucked and licked and flicked his tongue over me, another finger joining the first one. I was so immensely starved of his touch, that it did not even take long for me to come against his mouth. My thighs shuddered, my body felt hot and my panting breaths were the only thing audible in the room.

Chris lapped at my juices like it was nectar. He climbed back on top of me, not giving me a moment to relax. He licked his lips while lining his cock against my entrance.

The sound that escaped his lips when he entered the tip of his penis inside me was so erotic. My insides stretched to accommodate him, feeling him bury deep in me.

"Fuck, babe. You feel so tight." He said with a moan when he was fully within.

I finally felt one with him, joined at our bodies, competing each other. He leaned down, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist and kissed me deeply. I could still taste myself on his lips, feel him pulsating inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pulled out and trusted back inside.

My hips met his thrusts with groans excaping from our lips. The room suddenly was beginning to feel warm, our bodies beginning to sweat. He wound his arms around my waist while I encircled his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. The familiar knotting was beginning to deep within me as Chris hit my sweet spot with each thrust, like he had done a hundred times before.

The time away from each other must have been difficult for both of us, because like me, Chris didn't last long either. Together we came, him shuddering above me with a curse, filling me up. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, digging my nails in his skin, as his final thrusts pushed me over the edge once again.

In a heap of sweaty limbs, we both laid, spent and undone. Chris took deep labored breaths, his head on the pillow besides me. My heart was pounding in my chest as I felt Chris begin to go soft inside me.

"Hell of a reunion, wasn't it?" I managed to speak.

He climbed off of me and laid on his side. His breaths still coming in short but a content smile on his face.

"Told you I'll kiss you good morning." He pulled me over to him, my head resting against his chest. His heart was racing still, I could hear it thumping underneath. He rubbed my arm as his eyes began to close, tiredness getting to him. "Take a nap, babe. We'll need the energy for round two."

I smiled against his chest, hearing him snore and drifting into slumber.