#why do i need to have long hair to have a high ponytail or braids 😔

[digirainebow]

been growing my hair out for like. a potential funny bit. but i uh do not know if i can actually go thorough with it because CHRIST i always forget how much i hate having long hair

[readychilledwine]

Slow Hands

Part Two

A/N - Here's the first post for my "Here's to 100" Celebration week. 💙 I'm starting off with something I've received a few requests and messages about.

Warnings - mentions of abuse/trauma, mentions of child abuse, mentions of scars. Smut smut smut. Anal play, pet/master dom and sub dynamic play. Fingering, oral (m recving)/throat fucking. Minors DNI.

Part One

Lyria leaned closer into her mirror, examining the peachy nude lipstick she was wearing one more time before standing up straight and fixing part of her hair.

She was putting so much effort into her looks for a male. Something her brothers would frown upon since they normally praised her natural beauty. She had curled and braided her hair in places before pulling into a messy yet almost flirty, high ponytail. She had done her makeup. She put on expensive perfume.

She was even wearing a dress, something she had not done since being freed from the mountain. She brushed her hands along the baby blue fabric one more time before moving to look herself over in the full length mirror. The dress was one Rhysand had actually bought for her when he first brought her here. He loved the way the color sat on her golden skin tone, how it brought out the red in her hair. He had told her to save the little number for her first date in his court.

She didn't think he had planned on that date being with his brother. She pulled on her heels and put on the earrings she had picked for the night. A soft knock on her door made her heart beat pick up as she made her way over.

She opened the door, allowing Azriel in. "Hey, you're early." He was silent, staring at her with his mouth slightly parted. "Do I look okay? Rhys told me you had picked somewhere really nice, I can change." He grabbed her arm as she moved to go back to her room.

"You look stunning. I just didn't expect," he studied her again. The way the dress hugged her upper body, cinching at her small waist, before flaring out slightly and ending above her knees. Her long legs highlighted by the heels she was wearing. "Gods, you're beautiful."

She smiled softly at him. "You aren't so bad looking yourself." He was dressed in tighter black trousers, a black button up shirt. He had on several rings and a watch. "Let me grab my purse and we can go."

"You don't need your purse." He offered her his arm. "Let's just go get dinner."

—----------

The restaurant Azriel brought her to was an Inner Circle favorite by the Sindra. Faelights and candles adorned the patio they had opted to sit on to enjoy the beautiful summer evening.

He found himself falling into easy conversation with her. They had spoken about his upbringing, how they met Rhys, about how she got into healing.

There was a couple tense topics Azriel wanted to approach with the Heiress, like the topic of her older brothers, of her fathers, of why Rhysand had brought her here and hid her from all of them until now, but he danced around them waiting for her to make an opening. He was tired of waiting though, and needed answers before he put his plan for tonight into action.

"Do you talk to your brothers?" She looked at him a little shocked and blinked. "If you don't mind me asking." She does, a shadow whispered. Gentle.

Lyria sighed, pushing her pasta around her plate. "I speak with Eris and Lucien. I do not talk to the other males I have the unfortunate pleasure of being related to."

Azriel nodded. "What's Eris actually like? Behind that mask and bullshit self defense mechanism?"

Lyria looked at Azriel and sighed softly. "Ask me what you actually want to ask."

"What happened with Mor? Did you have part in it?"

Lyria shook her head. "I was a child when they were engaged. All I remember from that night was Eris had allowed me to ride with him on a border patrol. We found her, and he begged her to let us help. She refused. He asked if he could at least get her somewhere she'd be safer, and could be found because the Autumn forest isn't a good place for people my father deems unworthy."

Lyria sighed again. "He had me use what little knowledge I had on winnowing to get her to the clearing you found her in. He hardly slept that night. I know there were discussions between the two of them before this all happened, some hushed fighting, but Eris protected me from whatever little things he could that would lead to Beron hurting me or using me. Mor included."

Azriel nodded. Slowly processing the added information. "So he isn't lying?"

"Eris is kind, caring, funny. He would have never purposely hurt her." Lyria pushed her plate away. "And your question on Lu?"

"How much has he told you?"

Lyria shook her head again before beginning to play with her hair. "Not much honestly. He's not thrilled we are here together, but he understands I am grown enough to make my own choices."

Azriel nodded again. "Why did Rhys hide you for so long?"

She shook her head and held up her arm, a small bargain tattoo unveiling itself. "I can't tell you that. Can we go? I feel like some of this is better discussed alone."

—---------

Azriel pulled her closer to him as they sat on her couch. Talking had quickly turned into kissing, and kissing to heavy touching. Her nails were currently dragging down his bare chest, shirt long lost in some corner of her house, as he ran his own hands up her bare thighs.

Azriel lifted her, remembering he had wanted to repay a favor, and began walking her down the hallway to the room they were in last week.

It came alive the second they entered. Candles and faelights began to brighten, the sounds of nature setting in softly in the background. The soft smell of jasmine and honey hit his nose. "Why is it so… sensual smelling in here tonight?"

Lyria threw her head back with a soft moan as Azriel moved his kisses down her throat and neck. "Feyre and Rhys booked a couples massage lesson. I taught them little tips and tricks based in pleasure massage, they had champagne and chocolates, went home to try to make baby number two." Az chuckled softly against her throat. "Don't laugh. Couples in Velaris go crazy for my date night packages!"

Azriel kissed her deeply again, beginning to unlace the dress she was wearing. "And when is the last time someone took care of your body, Lyria?"

She knew it was a coded question. He was asking her two things. "It's been a while." She confessed.

"Let me take care of you, little fox. Get undressed. Lay on the table on your stomach." He kissed her gently before leaving the room to give her privacy to undress.

Lyria heated the table and blanket, sighing happily as she allowed the dress to fall and hung it. She got on the table, giggling as a shadow caressed her hair before covering her with a towel and Azriel entered.

Her approached her slowly, hand gently running her upper thigh to her ankle as he began to hold back anticipation over her newly exposed skin. He ran his hand softly back up the other leg, admiring every freckle on her shoulders before pausing to look at the scarring on her back.

She had been beaten with something, he ran a hand down one, the familiar sensation of a burn scar under his finger tips. Something that was on fire. "Who did this to you?"

Lyria sighed, turning to look at him with a brow raised. "Beron. His favorite method to put me in line with was a 9 tail whip. He liked how thin the scars were. If I was being extra defiant, he'd light the whip on fire after force feeding me faebane." She felt Azriel's grip on the table, his knuckles had turned white. Lyria pulled one of his hands to her head, laying it back down, "Start with the scalp and work down."

Azriel took a few stilling breaths, his hand instantly beginning to scratch and pull at her hair gently from the base. She let out a soft nose that brought him back to her, back to this moment. He didn't speak as he began to try to take care of her. He watched as she shivered slightly as he gripped the hair at the base of her neck. "You are beautiful," he whispered to her. "So beautiful."

Lyria moaned as his hands moved down to her neck and shoulders. He watched her shiver again, signaling to him he had found the right amount of pressure. He worked the tension out slowly before moving lower.

Lyria sighed softly as Azriel's hands ran along her back. He was being so gentle with her even if it was clear he didn't exactly know what he was doing.

She moaned as he applied more pressure to a tighter area, causing the male to grin with satisfaction. "Like that, little fox?"

"Just like that," her voice had become breathy, eyes fluttering shut. He was doing the best he could to remember her motions from the week before, copying them as closely as possible.

Azriel was almost desperate to see her fall apart the way he had. He was desperate to repay that favor. He allowed his shadows to begin exploring. Watching as they played in her hair, down her back, over the perfect ass he'd been dreaming about.

His goal was set as she moaned as he moved to another tight area. Lyria was going to cum for him tonight, and he honestly did not care how.

His methods became more focused, he began softer touches, watching as goosebumps danced across her skin. His shadows had begun to play in her hair. She was catching on to what was happening. "Whatcha doin', Az?" Her tone was playful as she lifted herself to peek over her shoulder at the blushing male.

Azriel smirked at her, a scarred hand going under the towel to touch the bare skin of her ass and squeezing it. "Repaying a favor." He started to use methods he knew worked. He began kissing her back and neck, whispering into her ear. "Do you want me to touch you, Lyria?"

"Cauldron boil me," she moaned softly as he bit her shoulder. He smirked as she arched her back slightly into him. He could smell her. The scent of their arousal mixing in the air as he moved his hand lower and closer to her core. A soft whimper left her throat. "Please."

"Please what, princess?"

"Touch me."

Azriel wasted no time, running his fingers on her already soaked core before pushing two into her. He used his other hand to tangle into her soft hair, pulling it to force her back to arch more. "Such a pretty little thing." She moaned loudly as his finger stretched her open.

"Azriel," her voice had gone completely breathy at this point. "Feels so good."

He smirked. "Just wait, princess. Your pretty cunt will feel so good wrapped around me." He pulled his fingers out of her, quickly turning her over on table and pulling her closer to the ledge. His fingers returned to her again, his thumb now joining in his assault on her by brushing against her clit. She had propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Azriel's fingers sunk in and out of her.

She was moaning his name, moaning praise, gasping softly with each delicious pull and push. "Look at me," he said. "Eyes on mine, princess." She looked into Azriel's hazel eyes. "Good girl. Such a good girl. Do you want to cum on my fingers?"

Lyria nodded, her red hair bouncing slightly at the motion. "Please."

"What do I get?" She whined as he curled his fingers into that perfect spot.

"Anything. You can have anything." Azriel hummed, and sped up his hands movements, groaning to himself as he felt her walls twitching around his fingers, tightening in excitement. Lyria was still following his orders, her beautiful eyes locked on his as her mouth fell open.

Azriel leaned forward, pushing her submission to find out exactly what he was dealing with. He grabbed her chin with his spare hand, holding her jaw open as he maintained eye contact with her, and then spit into her mouth. "Swallow." She did. "Cum, little fox." And she did. Lyria felt that coil snap in her stomach. He forced her to keep eye contact with him as she moaned out his name loudly, her toes curling. Shadows began to play along her breasts, pinching and tweaking her nipples causing more stimulation and prolonging her orgasm.

Azriel smirked as she rode his hand through her high, chest heaving. "On your knees. Take my pants off." He removed his fingers from her, pulling them to his mouth to suck them clean as he stepped back.

Lyria obeyed, getting on her knees in front of him and unlacing the tight material. She pulled them down his thighs and removed them, running her hands back up his thighs as she sat and waited. "Mouth open, hands behind your back. Tap my thigh twice if it's too much." He stroked his cock, watching as she got into position and parted her lips for him. "Gods, you are obedient, aren't you?"

"I just want to be your good girl," the soft confession almost made Azriel feel guilty as he pushed himself into her mouth, gripping the back of her head to hold her in place as the base of him.

"And you are." He began to fuck her throat slowly, watching her face as drool and tears began to form. His hands were laced tight into her hair for control as he growled above her. "Look so beautiful with my cock down your throat. Such a pretty little mess." She gagged softly around him. Play. He commanded his shadows, smirking as she moaned loudly at them beginning to trace over her clit, her nipples, dragging themselves between her folds. He picked up speed, watching as her mascara began to run, moaning as he destroyed her.

A familiar tight feeling started in his abs as his wings began to flare more. Azriel ripped her off of him and up before it could go further than he wanted and bent her over the table. "Are you on the tonic?" She nodded, unable to form words as his shadows continued their assault. "Good." Azriel lined himself up and pushed inside of her, head falling back into his shoulders as they both moaned. He grabbed both of her arms, pulling her slightly off the table and forcing her to use her abs to support herself.

He set a fast pace, filling her in a way no male ever had before. Stretching her more than any male had before. Lyria was quickly a mess, moaning his name and meeting his thrusts. "Is that the only word my beautiful little fox knows now? Have I fucked you so dumb already you can only say my name?" The drag of his cock as he teased her made her whimper and nod. "Fucking perfect. You are fucking perfect." Azriel grabbed both of her wrists in one hand. His other hand was squeezing her ass again as she laid back on the table.

"How far can I push you, Lyria? Where's the line?" Azriel began to tease her other hole. "Should we find out, princess?"

A scream of his name as he found that sensitive spot in her cunt was her only response. He could feel her wetness dripping, he could feel her tightening around his cock. He took the chance and pushed his thumb into her ass, chuckling as she moaned his name again. "Azriel, fuck! Please."

"Flithy fucking whore, aren't you?" Lyria nodded, smiling at the accusation. "Should I fuck your pretty ass next time? Gods, I'm going to fucking keep you. Can I keep you baby girl? Lock you up in my cabin in chains and just use this little body? Ill treat you like such a good little pet baby. You will be so spoiled."

Lyria was lost, pleasure building so tightly in her stomach she was going to explode soon. He felt so good inside of her and each groan and growl he released had her body fluttering in feminine pleasure. "Yes, master." Azriel groaned above her. "You can keep me."

He was smirking behind her again. He began thrusting even harder into the overly sensitive spot, growling as she got impossibly tighter around him. "Good little pet." His thumb was moving in time with his cock, he could feel it dragging, adding stimulation for both of them. Lyria was twitching around him, drooling and whispering in his name as over sensitivity set in. "Are you going to cum with my thumb in your ass, pet?"

A harsh thrust came after the question, making Lyria see stars as her toes began to curl again. "Yes, master. Can I cum? Please?"

Azriel growled again, his own orgasm right within reach. "Cum," he commanded. "Cum on my cock. I want to feel you fall apart on me."

She came with a scream of his name, Azriel roaring behind her as he also fell over the edge with that final stimulation of her walls fluttering around him. "That's it, pet. There you go." The hand holding her wrist dropped them, guiding her soft pushing against his hips to pull him further into her. "Good girl, Lyria." He pulled his other hand out of her, resting it by her waist as he ran the other up and down her back. "Took me so well, baby."

Lyria shuttered at the praise. Her eyes shut as she came down fully. "We should do this again." Azriel nodded in agreement, pulling out of her slowly and grabbing the towel on the table to clean both of them.

Lyria turned as he threw it into the hamper and froze. Azriel looked at her his brows knitted in confusion. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Then he felt it. Azriel froze as well as he stared at her. A snap happened between the both of them causing his breath to hitch and hers to still.

The string connecting them was golden and sparkling. He pulled her to him instantly, hand holding the back of her hair as he began to cry happily into her head. "You have no clue how long I've been looking for you." He kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, then each cheek and nose. He finally kissed her lips. Lyria kissed him back, just as eager and smiled as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "Maybe we can do this again in a couple days, but minus the sex? Just spend time together?"

She nodded at his offer, trying to ignore her growing glowing skin. "I'd like that a lot."

"Do you always glow after sex?"

He smiled as she blushed. "No. I glow when I'm happy."

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Can I ask for a gn! Yuu that has very long hair like atleast that's touch the ground?

No need to do the request do ill wait and

P.s. I love your monster au❤❤❤

Awww, thank you! If I had to say, I think my Monster!AU is my most popular AU so far 😂 It’s just so much fun, and while I love doing the worldbuilding, the wholesome silliness and found family vibes just always get me ;;v;;

Anyway, you most certainly can! I couldn’t help but get flashbacks to my high school years when my best friend would call me Rapunzel because of how long my hair was…and the sheer panic and horror she felt when I came to school one day after getting a haircut and my hair was up to my jaw. Don’t worry, it grew back! I’ve only had it cut that short once, but never again. :V It took three years to get it back down my spine. >.>

So while you asked for a gn!Yuu with long hair (and I’m assuming it’s in Monster!AU), you didn’t necessarily specify any scenario, so I hope you enjoy the random silliness based on my experiences with critters and long hair! >w<

////

When Yuu was finally able to get out of the ceremonial robes and into more comfortable clothes on the first night in Ramshackle, it came as quite a shock to Grim and the ghosts when they unwrapped their hair to the point the tips touched the ground. Given how dirty it was, however, Yuu had to quickly tie up their hair to keep it away from the dust.

“Where did you put all that?!” Grim asked, patting a paw against their hair as they tried to run their fingers through the long strands. “Why is it so long?!”

“Because I wanted it to be long?” Yuu replied with a shrug.

“Oh…do all humans have long hair?”

Despite being a chaotic gremlin in the beginning, Grim is more curious about the length and texture of Yuu’s hair than anything. At some point he realizes just how warm it is and will often be found practically wrapped up in it, snoozing away and just enjoying the comforting scent of their shampoo.

And then there were the monster students.

Hair is not a foreign concept by any means to these monsters, though the fact that there was someone who had hair this long? It reminded so many of those who knew the story of the Sun Kingdom and the princess with long hair who used incantations on a golden flower to bring her lover back from the dead!

“…your hair doesn’t glow, does it?” Ace asked, bouncing Yuu’s hair in his hands as he held it up to see it in the light.

“If it starts glowing, feel free to freak out, because I sure will!”

An issue that they came across, however, was how often the long strands got caught underfoot by monsters near them. More than once did their head jerk back because someone happened to step on it, whether they were trying to stand up or move to another spot. It happened more than once to the point Yuu’s neck started to hurt from the frequency. Such things didn’t go unnoticed by a certain unicorn…

“Honestly, you’re going to ruin your hair and your posture if you keep letting it drag on the floor like a mop,” Vil scolded them, the unicorn’s lion-like tail swishing in agitation as he worked through the newly formed knots.

“I can just put it up in a ponytail or a bun,” Yuu told him. “It’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not! If you’re going to keep your hair this long, then at least do something more presentable and functional to keep it healthy and strong.”

So began the long process of Yuu having to sit through lessons on hair care from Vil. They watched as he worked in the mirror to fashion their hair into new styles, referencing videos he’d watched online and resources for hair that closely fit their own to ensure he knows how to care for and teach Yuu. They listened as he instructed them on how to braid or twist their hair into styles they never even considered, and before long they were walking out of Pomefiore with hair care samples and a long, thick braid that hung at the back of their knees. It was a little heavier than they were used to, but not unmanageable.

It certainly made it easier to dance and run after their friends when a certain gremlin chimera got up to mischief!

When Cheka comes to visit, Yuu can’t help but notice how much he acted like a kitten that they just…couldn’t help but let him play with their hair. It was adorable to watch at first, but—like all things in Twisted Wonderland—something inevitably goes wrong.

“How did he get tangled up in your hair this badly??” Jack asked as he tried to figure out how to unravel the giggling child from their hair.

“Ow…Cheka was just so cute playing, and I only looked away for a second,” Yuu said, their hands on their scalp to keep the tugging at a minimum. “I didn’t think he’d get tangled up like this!”

“Halp!” Grim cried out, squirming around Yuu’s hair as well.

“Ow ow ow ow! Grim, stop! You’re pulling on my scalp!”

“I’m starting to think that human hair is used to trap prey,” Ruggie commented with a snicker, though his fingers were still combing through and untangling the hair quicker and easier than Jack.

After all is said and done, Yuu’s hair is quite fascinating even to Cater’s Magicam followers, leading to some crazy hairstyles and designs to be created (and lots and lots of safe hair dye and hair spray to be used). If Yuu wants to use a rainbow of colors or specific ones for their hair, Vil and Professor Crewel will find ways to help do so without damaging the roots or strands with harsh dyes or bleach!

Straight? Curly? Wavy? Dreadlocks? Afros? Any style and texture of hair a human could have! Imagine the possibilities with styles and colors in a world where Yuu can literally ask someone to use magic to see how something would look! And there wouldn’t be any issue with returning it to normal because magic~!!

Kudos to those of you who are able to confidently dye your hair wonderful colors, I love seeing the hues that can be done ;;v;; I'm too chicken to do it to my own hair, so I live vicariously through seeing others do it. 😃

Anyway, that’s all I can think of off the top of my head! Hope you guys enjoy! >v<

[gloria123idk]

Female TWST

I am a huge women lover. Like its obvious at this point I love women. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. IM. ON. MY. KNEES.

Thats why I shall type main Twisted Wonderland cast as female, because y e s. Btw they personality wont change much, I am just changing the looks

Riddle

Im already huge simp for Disney Queen of Hearts so yeah... Its gonna be worse. I think F!Riddle would be either a short haired or VERY LONG HAIRED. No inbetween, probably long haired so her mom would do this weird smartass haircuts (Like the bun she has herself.). Also girlie is still short, Im so sorry girl you aint getting high shelves soon (I love short girls)

Trey

OMG. GIRL IN GLASSES. YES. Also, Trey can cook and is basically, like a parent to anyone, so his female version would be taken by STRAIGHT MAN. NOOOOOOOO. That not good. Also, I like to think F!Trey would have a very average hair, that never go below shoulders

Cater

I once saw Gyaru Cater art, I inhaled this into my soul. Cater would be either, this Gyaru like girlie on her phone 24/7 (Like Yandere Simulator bullies), OR an average TikTok girl, that uses slang a lil too much (I am more into Gyaru version myself, BUT WHATEVER.)

Ace

The first thing that came to my mind is that F!Ace has very VERY long hair, that she ties into a braid (Like Raiden Shogun kind of length), just so when she turns around fast, she would hit anyone behind her with that massive ass braid. Like, that sounds like very Ace thing to do tbh??? 😭

Deuce

Here I cant decide if Deuce would delinquent era as a girl would still be a delinquent, OR a mean bully girl. Because, those two are kinda the same breed 😭. But if delinquent: A fucking one side shaved (lesbian ahh haircut) and now Deuce is trying to grow that shit out. If a mean girl: ... Do you guys know Heathers? :3

Leona

I shall inhale BUFF WOMAN, WITH MY WHOLE SOUL. Like, F!Leona would have that 6 pack, my friend said she would have big booba, but GENUINELY, I cant imagine that, like FLAT QUEEN. Also, the same as Deuce, one side shaved, with a fucking tattoo, also the hair side has a little silly braid

Ruggie

A chin length hair, with a shmol ponytail behind, like... Shmol shmol. Also I imagine F!Ruggie to dress as a man sometimes, because: DID YOU KNOW THAT FEMALE HYENAS HAVE PSEUDO-PENIS—

Jack

F!Jack the buff tall woman with a wolf cut. Please. MAKE THIS A THING. I BEG YOU ALL. I BEG ON MY KNEES. Also maybe F!Jack would be a lil bit shorter? Because she-wolves (or whatever you call it in English) are shorter than males? Idk, I was sleeping through biology classes

Azul

OFFICE. SIREN. F!AZUL. Thats all I have to say, hair in a bun, glasses, and cunt mixed with formal look. Azul is somewhere between spectrum of F!Floyd and F!Jade, because as F!Floyd is more cunty, F!Jade is more formal, so perfect balance

Floyd

As I said, Office Siren F!Floyd, but... MORE CUNT. And by this I mean like... Bayonetta level of the cunt. Also, a quite long hair, that are either in ponytail, or nothing at all

Jade

Idk if I can call her an Office Siren if she's the most formal out of the 3, but sure, whatever, lets make whole Octavinelle serve cunt in industry. F!Jade has shorter hair than F!Floyd, and they're always somehow tied up

Kalim

Do you know those silly girls, that go to parties every time, do tiktok trends, do many different hair styles daily, shares her things with everyone, and may or may not be into things that may be considered cringe? Like hobby horseing? DO I NEED TO SAY MORE.

Jamil

Mental support girlie. "Girl's girl" girlie. Yes— Like, yes. F!Jamil would have this kind of karen mom sense of fashion, if you get what I mean, also cardigan at ALL TIMES, if she wont do the "grandma cardigan" move ITS NOT F!JAMIL!

Vil

Funfact: When I imagined F!Vil I basically imagined MY FUCKING BULLY FROM MIDDLE SCHOOL 💀. WOW. F!Vil got that style, got that fashion, got that tits (Im sorry, I needed to type that. That was stronger than me). Curly long hair, many different hairstyles, bro is basically now nicer Velvette from Hazbin Hotel (How many references and comparing I already done. Holy moly)

Rook

I recently realised that, if Rook had a little longer hair, he would be basically Yumeko from Kakegurui, so lets go with that, because Im ain't fucking with his ugly ass hair cut. Rook would also be taken by straight males and called YANDERE 😭 Another nightmare to my collection...

Epel

Tomboy. T o m b o y. Tom-boy. TOMBOY. tomboy. T O M B O Y. Need I say more? F!Epel would AND WILL look like a man the same way Epel looks like a woman. I am not taking this back. Let that shit sink in.

Idia

Discord kitten or this one girl you hear at 3 am in Valorant that rages over shitty players and just cuses everyone out in the most diabolic way possible. No inbetween. F!Idia would look like Sucy from Little Witch Academia, with longer hair tho

Ortho

Robo-girl? Yes. For F!Ortho I think she would be the same as normal Ortho, with just more shaped hips, and that's basically it? Nothing crazy, I mean you can play a little with his design, like make his ,,shoes" look more like heels, but other than that?

Malleus

Starting with hairstyle, do you know Raiden Mei from Honkai Impact 3rd? Like... Herrscher of Thunder? That's basically this kind of hair cut, no one can tell me otherwise. Also F!Malleus this kind of girl to fight and beat your ass in heels 😭

Lilia

He already looks like a girl. So F!Lilia would be a little bit more... Manly? But in like... Female way? I dunno, Lilia is complicated person. In her general era she would have a very short hair, buzz cut even, but in current era, she grew some balls and now she can even tie it into ponytail (Also another girl to beat your ass up in heels)

Sebek

F!Sebek fits in both long hair and short hair. For short hair I would go for like basic shoulder length that is always tied up (you know, for fight), for long hair I would go with same concept, but more for tying similiar to the one that has Charlie from Hazbin Hotel (the new design)

Silver

... Hair that looks short, but are actually long due to nearly invisible ponytail in the back, that's basically like rat tail hairstyle. No. I wont elaborate. (Ngl, that shit is lowkey good for fighting) (Probably Lilia fucked up her hair)

(holy shit what did I created)

[yokohamapound]

HIHIHI

Can I request Chuuya and kunikida with a s/o who likes to braid or style their hair??🤭 I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT SM HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY(or night!!)

How did you know long-haired pretty boys are my weakness? :D

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, brushy-brushy

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida’s got an interesting style of hair, considering the amount of time and effort he puts into making sure he looks neat and clean all the time. You would think a long underside to his hair would be impractical, but he makes it work. 

I don’t think it’s in his list of attributes for an ideal spouse to enjoy brushing and styling his hair for him, but he was certainly pleasantly surprised the first time you approached him with a brush and a glint in your eye.

He’s so tall he has to sit on a chair while you stand behind him. He sits down patiently, resting his hands on his knees. Kunikida looks almost meditative as you tug the hairtie free and spread his hair across his shoulders. 

Kunikida closes his eyes as you work the comb through his hair, running your fingers after it. Not only does it feel good, it manages to slow his ever-marching thoughts down to a stroll.

He might be in constant pursuit of his ideals, but he knows when to stop and appreciate a moment. You taking time out of your day to lavish a little bit of care on him is definitely worth savouring. 

Because most of his hair is short, you’ll be somewhat limited in what you can do with it. You can mostly braid the long strands or put them in a ponytail, but he will dutifully wear whatever style you choose for him that day.

I’m afraid he may object to wearing hairclips. 

He likes those springy, phone-cord ties since they don’t pull on his hair, and the poor, gullible fool has worn a scrunchie to the office at your behest a few times. Dazai was most amused. 

Kunikida: “Shows what you know, Dazai. It decreases the risk of traction baldness in men.”

Dazai: “It also makes you look totally rad!” 

Nakahara Chuuya

Okay, you only need to take one look at Chuuya to realise he’s fussy about his hair. His style is…complicated, to say the least. As with the rest of his style, he’s definitely cultivated it to go along with his look. 

He puts up a couple of token complaints the first time you start trying to brush his hair, but it doesn’t take him long to realise he enjoys it. The feeling of your fingers running across his scalp is damn near enough to send him falling asleep. 

Chuuya does feel a little twitchy about you sitting behind him. Not because he doesn’t trust you—it’s those hard-earned street rat/mafioso instincts, but he gets over it. 

Sorry, you won’t be putting any cute bobbles or barrettes in his hair, but you might get away with a couple of black bobby pins here and there. He might not even notice if they’re round the back. 

He used to tie his hair in a little ponytail at the nape of his neck but I’m happy to tell you he also looks great with a high ponytail. Although he does wonder why so many people are staring at his neck now—is his choker crooked? Sadly, he won’t wear it for long because it interferes with his hat. 

Yeah, he’ll let you braid the long bit that falls over his shoulder, and he’ll punch the lights out of anyone who has anything to say about it. 

Expect lots of sarcastic comments, though.

“What am, your stylin’ head?”

“If you pull it, I’m smackin’ your ass with the brush, dollface.”

[fhw-unleashed]

Take a look at the FHW universe yourself during a short training session with Miles. The experienced veteran wants to help you get back to your full potential. He's been nice to you since you joined the company, a real friend so far. <3 Read it here under the cut or on AO3.

Miles in all his glory was brought to life with this picture by @westealtoys. (Still a WIP but a great one)

Don't get distracted during training

It's just training, you keep telling yourself. You've trained with Miles many times, you've felt his hands on your body as you've practiced holds. Yet you feel your pulse racing in your head every time he touches you.

Why do you notice how damn hot he is every time you look at him? Those mountains of muscle flexing under his dark skin with every move. Not as defined as in his bodybuilder days, now the curves of his muscles are softer, covered in a soft layer that your hands sink into slightly when you grab him.

Concentrate, you must concentrate. He will grab your arm and bend down so you can roll over his shoulders and counter his hold.

Grab - roll - damn it, you've gone too high, your fingers get tangled in his hairband instead of wrapping tightly around his strong neck. You slip and fall onto your back right in front of him. He gives in to the rough tugging on his hair, drops to his knees with you, and comes right on top of you.

You release your fingers, and his loose ponytail opens completely, dropping his long box braids into your face. Only now do you realize that only a few inches separate your faces. Your throat tightens, heat creeps into your cheeks, and you hope he doesn't notice that you're blushing.

Miles licks his thin lips almost imperceptibly, sending a wave of rapture through your body, and you react almost too late when he asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I got distracted for a moment, I'm sorry," you stammer embarrassedly, clearing your throat to regain the strength in your voice.

"See, that happens to the best of us," Miles says gently, giving you a teasing wink. He slowly stands and his fingers slide across your chest. The delicate touch makes you shiver, and you wonder if that was his intention. You're sure he didn't need to touch you to get up.

Distracted by the long, slightly silver interwoven hair that fall down over his strong neck muscle to his chest, you take his helpfully outstretched hand a heartbeat later than you intended. Judging by his grin, he noticed you staring at him.

With a strong tug, he pulls you to your feet, so hard that you bounce lightly against his chest before regaining your balance.

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself, just because you've been on the big stages doesn't mean you can't make mistakes," he says encouragingly.

"Do you say that to everyone or just to me? I remember you saying, 'your mistakes are other people's injuries'," you reply, unable to stop grinning like an idiot despite the important topic.

"Both are true. We have responsibilities, but we're still human. You're talented and have everything a star needs. You just need to get your confidence back. Too much pressure and perfectionism can lead to more serious mistakes than getting caught in a hair band."

You swallow as he mentions serious mistakes. Suddenly, his hand squeezes your forearm in encouragement, and you notice that neither of you let go of the other after you stood up. Is this on purpose? Maybe you wish it were, but maybe it's just his willingness to help.

You need more clarity before your flushed cheeks turn too obviously red. "If you keep being so nice and flattering, I might think you're flirting with me."

"What if I am?" He says smoothly, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. You're glad he's still holding your forearm and squeeze it tighter before the lightness in your head makes you sway.

[ugh-yoongi]

I'd love to hear your hot take on the rest of the members worst styles. Please do this I need it. - F T Anon.

okay i have given this lots of thought and am prepared to be roasted to high heavens for this list. i have done both the objectively worst and my personal worst rankings.

namjoon —

sadly our boy has no debate over his worst style.

objectively worst:

my personal post-runch worst: the hair was fine but why did they style it like this, fake love era had many of my boys in shambles.

my personal favorite: i know he said he hated this hair which just goes to show men don't know anything.

yoongi —

aside from the goofy early japan photoshoots and the braids hat (which i'm not counting bc they're Too Obvious), yoongi doesn't miss much? perhaps he is more principled than the rest of his bandmates.

objectively worst: the terf era aka backup friar tuck.

my personal worst: i'm so sorry but i hated this hair. this shit was burnt to a crisp and the tone washed him out and they did him so dirty.

personal favorite: he has a lot of excellent looks and it was hard to choose one. i'm picking the daechwita undercut but please know his current long hair and the half-crimp are VERY close seconds.

hoseok —

another one that doesn't miss often but it does happen.

objectively worst: hobi's cns era hair (the honey brown with the blond highlights) is one of my all-time favorites, and then they did this. just no.

personal worst: i had a hard time choosing, bc early bangtan seems like such a copout and 2014 was rough, but he honestly doesn't miss much so i gave in. give our boy a texturizing spray.

personal favorite: love everything about this. the perm, the texture, the cut, the color. one forehead smooch for this stylist.

jimin —

i floated these opinions on discord last night and got roasted again.

objectively worst: skipping over some of the early stuff bc it's a copout, another crispy, over-dyed mess. he earns points back for the ponytail, though, bc if there's anything i'm a sucker for it's long hair.

my personal worst: this is what got me roasted. i hate this hair with a passion. no, i can't explain it, i just hate it.

personal favorite: a sleeper pick. did you expect this one, bc it's had me in a feral rage since he posted this photo. jess said this choice "said a lot about me."

taehyung —

i think the stylists took out most of their frustrations on the hyung line, bc i don't think the maknaes have had many misses? but there are definitely some.

objectively worst: no question. she was bad.

personal worst: it's so bad i had to put it twice.

my personal favorite: the blond mullet was close but there can only be one. this is very close to my favorite bangtan hair ever, not just on tae.

jungkook —

yeah idk. another one that doesn't miss often.

objectively worst: i don't want to bully a child but his hair hasn't often been bad so he left me with no choice. he gets a pass bc we all probably had questionable hair as teenagers within such close proximity of our idol, runch randa.

personal worst: another apology, but i wasn't a fan of this one dlfgijld. the cut was top-tier but the purple was too purple and i think it washed him out.

personal favorite: i literally could not choose between these so you get both. i know the wp21 were clip-ins but they deserve to have their recognition for how immaculate they were.

ok the end. please feel free to roast me and/or drop your bias's dogshit looks in my inbox pls <3

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 Post-sex cuddles are the perfect opportunity for braiding hair it seems. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 Hair Braiding 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Mary Goore x GN!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 No smut but mentions of sex (18+ only, MINORS DNI or I'll delete all of your bookmarks on your AO3 account), Mary usually being uncomfortable with physical touch but he's okay with it with you, long hair Mary again because why not, can be read as a part 2 to yesterday's fic but also works well on its own I think. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1157 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 I finished my final undergrad essay today!! Celebrating with more long-haired Mary content whoopee. I've briefly proofread this to make sure there are no gendered pronouns or terms used for reader but if I've missed any please let me know!! 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

One thing about Mary Goore: he loves to cuddle after sex. It’s his favourite part of aftercare. Or at least it is with you. He’s been discovering over the past few months since you decided to give dating a shot that he likes doing a lot of things with you that he didn’t think he would. Before, the thought of being touched and manhandled while he was sticky and sweaty and coming down from the high of a climax made him cringe. It sounded like something that would be overstimulating. Like it would be too much sensory input for him to handle immediately after.

And yet, despite thinking that before, he’s now snuggled up close to you and he can hear your heartbeat as he rests his head on your chest. Long strands of blonde have stuck to his forehead and your upper torso from the sweat, and he can feel your fingers lightly massaging his scalp as your breaths gradually even out.

“Mare?”

“Mm?” Mary hums, their digits tracing random patterns on your hip.

Your nails scratch gently at their skin. “Have you ever considered doing other things with your hair?”

They snort. “Listen, I’m willing to try new things but I don’t think I wanna use my hair to get you off. It would take ages to wash that shit out.”

You lightly smack their shoulder, eliciting a giggle that brings a smile to your face. “Not like that. I don’t even think that would be possible and no, we’re not going to test it out so don’t even try.”

“Damn, and I was so looking forward to giving you a hair job.”

They laugh again at the way your face wrinkles up in displeasure. “Gross. No, I meant like… hairstyles and stuff. Something other than putting your hair in a ponytail every time you go to work.”

Mary considers this for a moment, gazing down at the long, sweat-damp locks of blonde that tickle your chest. If they were being honest, they had thought about cutting it all off and starting fresh. They hadn’t gone to a salon for a long time now and they knew there were likely a few split ends that probably needed the chop. However, they’d had their hair this length for such a long time now that it felt like a much scarier step to take than it probably was in reality. While they weren’t afraid of change, sometimes adjusting to change was difficult. Their morning routine would change. Their appearance would change. Even the way you carded your fingers through their hair would change. It would no longer be long strokes but short and sweet. Were they prepared for that kind of change?

Your fingers nudging his chin break him out of his inner monologue. “Don’t overthink it, baby. If you like your hair the way you do it now, then that’s fine. Nothing needs to change if you don’t want it to, you know? I was just curious.”

His shoulders immediately relax. “Good. I kinda like how I have my hair right now. I only really pull it back for work so we don’t have customers complaining about finding hair in their drinks.”

“That’s fair.”

Mary runs a hand through his hair and an idea strikes him. “Although… I suppose pulling it back in a different style wouldn’t be all bad. I could probably even do more fun stuff with it for Halloween and other themed nights.”

They let out a cry of surprise as you push them off you, making a beeline for the dressing table sat in the corner of the bedroom and picking up a handful of hair ties and a brush. Mary can’t help but get excited when they see the gleeful grin on your face when you return to the bed.

“Why don’t we try braiding it? You could be like Lara Croft or something!”

“Fuck, yeah, sure. But be careful. Don’t yank at my hair too much,” they acquiesce, turning so that their back is facing you as the mattress dips behind them.

The brush glides through Mary’s hair, only occasionally catching where a couple of strands had gotten tangled during sex. His eyes slide closed when you begin separating his hair into three sections, tilting his head back with a smile on his face. This is something else he didn’t think he’d enjoy in a relationship either. Ordinarily, he could tolerate being touched by strangers as part of his job at the bar. He was even able to accept that it would be a common occurrence when he did gigs with Repugnant, fans crowing the stage and reaching up to touch him or trying to grab him when he walked offstage. He didn’t enjoy his personal space being invaded, nor his personal boundaries around physical touch being crossed, but he made sure to take the time to decompress every time he came home.

You’re the only person they’ve been okay with being touched by. When you touch them, holding them close or even something as casual as sitting close to each other to watch a movie, they don’t feel the disgust or discomfort that they feel from strangers grabbing at him. Any time your fingers interlock with theirs, they feel safe. They feel calm. When you kiss them, cupping their face tentatively, they want to grab you and bring you in so close that your bodies almost become one entity. And now, as you braid their hair and hum an old King Diamond song, their body itches with the need to take one of your hands and place it on their bare skin so that they can feel that you’re there and you’re real. Because fuck knows sometimes Mary wakes up and thinks that they just dreamt up your entire relationship, still pining after you like a teen with a high school crush.

The warm press of your lips on Mary’s shoulder has his eyes fluttering open to find you holding a hand mirror in front of him, your back pressed against his and the newly styled braid swept forward over one of his pale, freckled shoulders.

“What do you think? Did I do good?”

The braid isn’t perfect, a couple strands of hair already sticking out, but his heart swells all the same. He can’t help but notice how much it suits him even if it is different to what he’d usually choose to do with his hair. His fingertips caress the smooth hair in the braid as he inspects it in the mirror before turning to look at you with a grin.

“Think you can do that for me before work whenever I stay over?”

The moment you start to nod, Mary takes hold of your face roughly and crashes his lips down on yours, the two of you laying down on the mattress with you beneath him as he expresses his gratitude with a multitude of kisses.

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Ravenblade - Part 4 // Ivar Lothbrok x OC

Summary: A tremendous wounded Liv is being cared for after the battle by a surprisingly soft Ivar, so she needs to get the advice of her big brother

Warnings: Language, war wounds, blood

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @menari

A/N: Whoooo here I am back from my little Tumblr break!

The following day Liv is awake early. She keeps thinking about the sex with Ivar, and a smile creeps onto her face.

"Well? Did someone have a good night?" asks Sven, who has just come to stand beside her.

"Didn't I tell you it was none of your business?" asks Liv, annoyed, as she laces up her bracers.

"The cripple seems to be in high spirits," he says then and Liv rolls her eyes. She knocks Sven against the shoulder.

"Don't challenge me, Sven!" she grumbles, but Sven continues.

"What? It's like that. And your face is always graced with a smile too. Was he really that good?" he says, and Liv has had enough.

She gets up and stands in front of her friend. Behind her, the sons of Ragnar are just coming out of their tent.

"You asked for it," she hisses then and pushes herself off a tree trunk so she can reach him better. Sven, however, avoids her and grabs her around the waist. He pushes her back, but she manages to stay on her feet. Anger, however, spreads through Liv. She attacks again and has now taken her dagger. She lets it slide through her fingers, and Ivar's eyes grow big when he sees her fighting like this.

Liv does a pike roll, kicks Sven in the knee so that he sinks in and then wraps her legs around his upper body. With a swing, she drops backwards and pulls him with her. Sven lands on the floor and Liv is quickly back on her feet.

But Sven has also had the same training as her, so he too is quickly back on his feet. She tackles him a few times before he grabs her arm and pulls her over him. Liv deftly rolls off and lands a matching punch to the area of his stomach.

The air is forced out of Sven, and he becomes careless so Liv can hold her dagger to his neck.

"Don't you ever do that again! Do you hear me?" she hisses so that only he can hear. A real crowd has slowly formed around them.

Sven exhales shallowly and then nods. Liv slowly takes the dagger from his neck and turns away. But then she twists around again and gives him a small cut on the cheek.

"Don't forget who's in charge here," she hisses, stomping angrily.

As she passes her brother and his brothers, she looks briefly into Ivar's eyes but immediately moves on. She angrily throws her dagger into the nearest tree when she is out of earshot.

"Fucking hell!" she yells, ruffling her hair.

She hates having to discipline her people like this. Sven is ahead of everyone. They are friends, but even he has his limits, which he should not cross. But maybe she was overreacting a little. Could it be that Ivar is to blame? That she becomes so sensitive? Behind her, Liv then hears hooves stomping. Of course, it's him. Slightly amused, he sits in his chariot and looks at Liv.

"Are you okay?" he asks, crossing his arms.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asks sarcastically. Furious, she stomps towards the tree and pulls out her dagger. "What are you doing here?" she asks, turning to Ivar.

"The others want to go. We're just waiting for you. Your people won't come without you." Liv takes a deep breath before joining Ivar on the chariot. He slaps the reins, and they drive off.

"What happened there before?" he asks suddenly, and Liv is surprised that he even cares.

"What do you do with people who cross their line?" she asks back, and Ivar thinks momentarily. Then he shrugs.

"Then I guess he's lucky you like him."

Again and again, Liv thrust her sword into Saxon soldiers. She has been with the first troop, with Björn, Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd and is now treading through the mud. Her face was splattered with blood after only a few minutes, and her thirst for blood had awakened.

Even her long blond hair, tied in several braids into a high ponytail, has already turned slightly red. She ducks, strikes and draws her sword through the bodies. Despite the effort, Liv cannot suppress a smile. This is what she was made for. To fight.

Again and again, she raises her shield to ward off blows and slashes. She doesn't feel the minor cuts inflicted on her because of the adrenaline. Whether it's minutes or hours, Liv can't tell, but it wouldn't make any difference either. And then another Saxon runs towards her.

He manages to take the shield from her, but she is no less dangerous without it. She draws her sword across the soldier's stomach, then stabs him in the chest. Satisfied, Liv watches him go down.

She stands in the middle of the battlefield. Her bloodied face looks around. Liv's chest rises and falls rapidly, as does her breathing. Then she sees the prince. Aethelwulf. Liv has met him several times, as his father has used her services.

He looks at her in surprise, and she can only grin. But then he raises his bow and shoots an arrow at her. It hits her shoulder. Enraged, Liv breaks off the shaft and tries to raise her arm, making it complicated.

At that moment, Aethelwulf raises his bow again, and the second arrow lands in Liv's stomach. She is too slow to deflect it somehow. She looks down at herself in disbelief, and at that moment, the rest of the large army comes running behind Aethelwulf, forcing him to retreat.

Liv, however, can barely hold on and then goes down. Unable to say anything, she lies there in pain. She has carelessly dropped her sword on the ground.

Satisfied, Ivar sits on his chariot and watches his army slaughter the Saxons. Screams and groans and the smell of blood fill the air. He feels superior to everyone now as if Odin is tapping him directly on the shoulder and rejoicing. He is so full of pride.

Defeated, the Saxon army retreats and flees from the heathen army. Slowly Ivar leads his chariot across the battlefield as his brothers meet him. They all laugh proudly and congratulate the youngest on his victory, for it was his doing.

Then he notices the slightly worried look on Björn's as he looks around. It doesn't take long for Ivar to realise what it's all about. He looks around too, but he can't see Liv anywhere either. Then Björn sees Sven. He stomps towards him.

"Where is she?!" he shouts, and Ivar didn't think Björn cared so much about his sister. "Where is she?!" he shouts again, and the other brothers look around too.

"I don't know!" Sven returns, and Björn grabs him by the collar.

And then Ivar sees her. She is lying in the dirt, surrounded by Saxon corpses.

"There!" shouts Ivar, and slight panic can be heard in his voice.

He throws himself from his chariot and crawls towards her. Björn, of course, is faster.

"Liv!" says Björn once more and throws himself on his knees beside her. Still panting and barely catching her breath, Liv looks at her big brother. Relieved that they have finally found her.

"Björn?" she stutters tonelessly.

"Shhh ... Shhh ... It's going to be all right. We'll get you a healer," he says, looking at the arrow still lodged in his sister's stomach.

"Get a healer now!" Björn shouts angrily, and Liv grits her teeth.

Before Björn realises what she is about to do, Liv unceremoniously breaks off the arrow shaft. A small cry of pain passes her lips. Ivar has seen this too. She is so brave and tough, he thinks to himself, yet the sight of Liv in the dirt with an arrow in her stomach shocks him. He can't lose her. Not now.

"Liv," he breathes when he's almost at her. "No!" he mutters to himself.

When he is finally beside her, he sees that her whole body is covered in dirt and blood. He can't tell which is hers, but it doesn't look good.

"Liv..." he says again, and Liv looks him in the eye before letting out a pained moan.

"Ivar," she breathes then and reaches out for him.

Her head rests on Bjorn's legs, but Ivar also sits beside her. He takes her hand in his and caresses it gently. Then he kisses her hand and presses it against him.

"It's okay, Liv. It's going to be okay," he whispers and touches her cheek.

Björn looks back and forth between Ivar and Liv and then at Ubbe, who stands beside him, shrugging his shoulders. They have never seen their brother like this before.

"It's okay," she stammers now. "I'm not scared."

"You're not going to die, do you hear me?" hisses Ivar, continuing to stroke her hand.

Sven has reached her now, too and rummages in his bag. He takes out a small vial and then kneels to her.

"What is this?" asks Björn immediately, and Sven takes off the cork.

"It will help her," he says, looking at Liv, who nods. He dribbles a little of the liquid into her mouth, and she swallows it. Then her eyelids grow heavy, and her body limp.

"What have you done to her?" exclaims Ivar immediately.

"She's just sleeping. This is for the pain. It will help her," he defends himself, and Hvitserk puts a hand on Ivar's shoulder.

The wound won't stop bleeding. New drops of blood keep forming in it. But Ivar patiently cleans Liv's wounds. It's not only the wound on her stomach that the healer has stitched up well, but she also has several cuts and bruises on her arms.

"You could have died today," he grumbles after a while.

"And yet I'm still here," Liv says, a little more cheerful again. "I thank the gods for that. But I can take care of myself, Ivar."

"Doesn't look much like it to me," he says, showing her the blood-soaked piece of cloth he's using to clean her wounds. "What if you're not so lucky next time?" he asks.

"Then I will die honourably in battle," she only says. Ivar doesn't want to hear something like that. He looks her in the eye momentarily, and Liv returns the look. He puts the scrap of cloth away and takes her hands in his.

"This must not happen, do you hear? Liv... I... I love you, and I want you by my side," he says then, and Liv's eyes widen in surprise. No one has ever said those words to her before.

"What? You don't even know me," she says, turning away from him.

She knows that love is a weakness. And she doesn't want weaknesses.

"It's not just you who can observe Liv. Even the first time I saw you, I knew you were special. And everything I've seen is enough for me to tell you that… I love you."

Ivar looks closely at Liv, and the otherwise strong warrior that he is suddenly seems vulnerable.

"I want you to stay by my side. I want you to be mine."

Liv looks at him. Light tears well up in her eyes as she averts her gaze.

"I can't..." she breathes and stands up. "I have commitments, Ivar. I can't stay with you. As soon as Ecbert is dead, I have to go." She takes another step towards him.

"Please, Liv. You felt it too, I'm sure of it. We belong together." Liv wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Please, Ivar... Don't make this harder than it already is," she pleads with him shaky.

"I just don't want you to lie to yourself. Your place is by my side!"

He takes her hand in his and caresses it. Again she looks into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. She would like to say yes to him, but Liv can't. She has the Ravenblade, and she can't let it down. Hesitantly, she pulls her hand away from Ivar.

"I can't," she breathes, "I'm so sorry." With those words, she grabs her tunic, pulls it over her head, walks out, and leaves the tent.

When she gets outside, the sun blinds her. Still struggling with tears, Liv is even more confused because this usually never happens to her. She has been trained to be tough and keep her emotions to a minimum, but Ivar brings them all out.

"Liv!" she then hears someone call out. She turns and sees Björn coming towards her. "How are you?" he asks immediately, but as she stands before him, he notices that Liv is struggling with something, so he hugs her.

Liv lets it happen and presses herself against her brother. It is her first time in years to hold her brother in her arms again. And Liv has to admit, it feels good.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, and Liv sniffles briefly before running her sleeve over her eyes.

"Nothing," she then says quickly.

"Hey, you can talk to me," he says, looking her in the eye.

It's eerie that when Liv looks at Björn, her own eyes look back. Then his gaze wanders to the tent from which Liv has come.

"Is it Ivar? What has he done?" Björn then asks quickly.

"He hasn't done anything," his sister assures him.

"He seems very fond of you, Liv."

"I know, that's the problem. I can't stay with him. I...". Her voice breaks off.

"But you like him?" Liv lowers her eyes and then nods slightly.

"I can't, Bjorn. Love is a weakness that could endanger me and my people."

Björn considers for a moment. "In the end, you must know what you want, Liv. I know the Ravenblade have a pact, but if it makes you unhappy..."

"You don't understand. I'm the fucking leader. I can't just turn my back on them because I fell in love. It doesn't work like that."

Björn notices that his sister is visibly struggling with herself. She is still so young and has committed herself for life. She should be happy, even if that means wanting to be with his psychopathic brother. It shouldn't be like this.

"You know what? Just forget about it! It doesn't change anything anyway," she says. Then she reaches out and puts her hand on his arm. "Thank you, Björn," she now says softly, and to experience such an action from his sister, he would not have thought possible.

[ashley-jones]

Daughter of Fire and Blood

Chapter 6

Aemond Targaryen x Niece Targaryen OC

Warnings: incest, usuper, threatening a child, dragons, pregnancy,

Also I made Daeny's whole name Daenerys, which makes her and Aemond's daughter the second of her name.

Entering into Kingslanding was like a sword cutting through her heart all over again. Mexes flew over the kingdom, leaving her large shadow to descend over the citizens below, Vaghar and Cerexes following behind her. Soliston held Alysanne, flying right beside his sister and mother. Mexes was the first to drop down, landing in the emptied courtyard.

The air was cold with winter in the wind, her furred cloak blew in the wind, black dress tight and firm on her body with red dragon scales that matched Mexes' perfectly. Her white hair was tied into a high braided ponytail, the gold crown sitting on her head, showing the glory of the new black queen.

She removed herself from Mexes, hand tracing her scales to which she leaned into, then took to the air, the others following after except Vaghar who stayed in place, the fly was long, meaning she was probably tired. Her lilac eyes followed Mexes as she flew through through the skies, taking in her home. She then turned towards her father in confusion. "There should be guards, knights lining the kingdom, especially when the dragons came into view." she spoke up.

"Otto Hightower doesn't have the cock to control these knights and guards. That's why they need you, the one who was trained from a babe to rule." Deamon spoke tracing her cheek then walking towards towards the entrance. "Come on sweet boy." she softly spoke holding out her hand. Alysanne smiled walking towards his mother grasping her hand and walking inside with her, Aemond following behind, hand already sitting firmly on the handle of his blade.

It felt forbidden to walk through these halls after so many years of being away from them. It felt like needles pricking her skin, like her own uncle's blade slicing through her stomach once more. Her heels clicked like sin through the halls, echoing like the song of ice and fire.

Handmaidens stopped when they saw the Targaryen's enter the halls, eyes widening heads bowing, whispers surrounding them. Daeny was the only Kin left to Rheanrya and Deamon Targaryen, the rightful heir to the throne, the one that will save them from the abuse Otto has put apon their walls.

Daeny came to a stop which made Aemond stop behind her and Alysanne. Her head turned looking past his shoulder feeling a piercing gaze on them. "We're being watched, and it's not the servants." she whispered. "The court follows my grandfather, probably spies, guards that are too afraid to attack, so they watch, hiding their cocks between whir legs." Aemond spoke coldly.

He nodded forward, to which she nodded, turning back around making her way towards the throne room. Two guards stopped her instantly staring straight ahead trying not to look at the girl. She walked forward once more, noticing the shake of the knights swords. She smiled softly pushing past them to which they obeyed, swords lowering heads bowing in shame.

She walked ahead, Otto Hightower sitting on her grandfather's throne, her mother throne, her throne. Releasing Alysanne's hand, she moved ahead looking up at him, to which he stood yelling for guards to contain the small family. She came to a stop at the bottom of the steps, looking directly at him. "You are no descendent of Targaryen blood Otto." she spoke firmly. "Do you know nothing of my family's legacy? Or do you only process what you wished to process?" she questioned. "You know nothing child." he growled.

"From my blood, come the prince that was promised and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire." she softly spoke. "What?" Otto growled. "The prophecy of Aegon the first dream is engraved into his blade, the blade held by the one that sits on that throne, read only by those chosen as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Aegon the first believed that a destined savior would come forth from the Targaryen bloodline. From which you are not part of. I do not wish to use force to remove you from that throne, but I will if deemed necessary." she spoke firmly.

Guards came running in surrounding the family, Otto smirking down at her. Aemond and Deamon pulled their swords from their sheaths ready to protect the queen and her son. "I do not want to rule a kingdom of blood and bone." she softly spoke. "Nor kingdoms of ash." she added. "You will have your blood amongst the throne Otto. Aemond as king consort, Alysanne as my heir, and the oldest of three." she spoke.

Aemond turned his head towards her in confusion, eyes moving towards her stomach. Deamon doing the exact same, then looking at Aemond. You could feel the protective barrier grow between the two men when they hear the ideals of the queen being with child once more.

"Do not cut anyone down." she ordered. "They'll attack you if we lay down our swords!" Aemond argued. "Them let them attack." she ordered. "Have you gone mad?!" Deamon growled. "Lay down your swords!" she ordered. Aemond and Deamon looked at each other, then slowly lowered their sword setting them at their feet. "I do not wish to rule a kingdom of blood and bone!" she yelled up towards the guards and Otto. "It is not what my mother would have wanted! Nor my grandfather." she rasped.

She began walking up the steps towards Otto Hightower. Her fingers wrapped around the kings hands broach ripping it from his tunic looking up at him. "You are a traitor. And you will die, whether by my hands or within a cage. But no matter it will be slow, and it will be painful. I tire of showing mercy, your daughter and grandson where of trivial to that fact." she whispered. "Kneel or die screaming." she whispered. "It be best to give me your loyalty, for I am not giving mercy! Anyone who dares to not kneel are traitors to the land and the Targaryen's! With fire and blood you will die screaming!!" she yelled.

She didn't want to rule a kingdom over graves, but to rid of the traitor's within her land, she will. The sounds of swords hitting the floor could be heard, head turning slightly watching as knights kneeled, arms pressed into knees, heads bowing. She stepped aside Aemond grabbing his grandfather pulling him away from the throne and towards the steps. "Kneel." he rasped.

Otto looked directly at Daeny, then towards Deamon, then towards Aemond. Shoving his grandson back he grabbed a hold of Alysanne, hand wrapped around his throat, other placed on Aegon's blade that sat at his side. Daeny moved forward only for Otto to tell her stop. "Move once and I will kill him." he rasped.

"Mexes." she whispered. The roof was ripped from it's placement, Otto flinching quickly looking up only to come face to face with the second largest dragon known to current man kind, the queen's dragon. Her mouth opened a loud screech escaping her, causing Otto to release the boy who ran back towards his father. "Burning you would be too simply, too quick, too unsatisfying." she coldly spoke making her way down towards the Otto looking directly at him.

He dropped to his knees pleading for his life, Mexes made her way inside the throne room circling the throne skittering, growling, huffing watching every movement. "Did my mother plead for her life as Aegon had her killed, and eaten by his dragon, before my own baby brothers eyes before you had him slayed?" she questioned. "What of my brothers? Did they plead for forgiveness as they gave their lives?" she growled. "What part of you deserves mercy?" she questioned.

That's when Otto stopped pleading her but his grandson. But Otto had just threatened not only his pregnant wife, but his oldest son. "I would gladly slit your throat right now Grandfather if the queen allowed it." Aemond darkly replied. "Take him to a cell. He'll rot their, pleading for his death, as he slowly rots." she ordered. Guards grabbed the man, who yelled and pleaded, struggling agaisnt their holds.

Daeny walked towards her father holding the hands broach. "You where passed aside, pushed out and forgotten more times to count. Within these walls of Kingslanding, I ask that you help me fix it, the person who knows these walls better than anyone. I, Deanerys Daeny Targaryen, first of her name, daughter of the purest of dragons, queen of the Andals and the first men, protector of the seven kingdoms, the true unburnt, and the welder of ice and fire, I ask that you be my right hand, my hand at the courts table, the hand that stands by my side at battle, my father." she spoke firmly.

Deamon has never felt more proud as he looked down at his little girl. He kneeled down looking up at him with pride. "I accept the honor my grace, my queen." he softly spoke. She raised her head telling him to rise, to which he did, placing the broach onto his tunic.

She bowed her head smiling, turning and making her way back towards her family. Aemond slid his sword back into it's sheath, standing straight looking at her. He reached out placing the back of his hand on her stomach, to which she smiled. "You should have told me, we would have been more careful." he whispered. "There was no time for careful." she softly spoke.

The religion relics where removed from the kingdom, the doors where opened back up once more, servants removed from the dungeons and allowed back within the halls. The green was removed and replaced with the colors of Targaryen's. Alysanne was placed into proper training, while Deanerys worked along side her mother in lessons.

The names of the loss of Targaryen's where placed along the candle lit Balerion, including Haelena and her children. The gods seemed to have approved of a Targeryan sitting apon the throne once more because the sun shines through the open ceiling of the throne room.

Mexes sit along side her mother wrapped around the throne, flying in and out freely instead of being trapped away in the dragon Pitt. Of course having a queen sit on the throne instead of a king will never go without issues. Hundreds of marriage pacts of been sent to her and Aemond for the hand of their children, including the one that hasn't even been given brith to yet.

Speaking of currently as Daeny read a letter over her husband shoulder. They haven't even left bed yet when a raven came bursting through their open window, handing a letter, then flying off. Her chin rests on his bare shoulder, not bothering to cover her own bare self more concentrated on the letter asking for her 6 year old daughters hand. "Lord Boris had a son finally, but one that is 12 years deep than our daughter.. He's a fool to think I will give him her hand." she whispered.

Aemond tossed the letter aside turning, pushing his wife down and climbing on top of her. He hummed leaning down pressing his lips to hers, to which she responded quickly. Her hands moved up his arms, resting on his neck leaning up pressing hard into the kiss.

But a knock on the door interrupted the moment, a growl escaping his throat as he looked back towards the door. "What is it?" Daeny softly spoke up. "Lord Cregan Stark has arrived a day early my lady." a handmaiden softly spoke. "Stark..? Fuck." she whispered. "What?" Aemond questioned kissing along her jaw. "I was betrothed to Cregan Stark when I was born, then it was broken off." she whispered. He hummed with a sadistic smirk, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Good thing you're mine then huh?" he rasped.

She giggled when he bit into her neck, but he moved away when the handmaidens walked in bowing their heads and hoping them a good night's sleep. Aemond moved away from her, allowing her to stand and walk to the bath, the maids following her smiling and giggling softly amongst one another about what they walked into.

She was bathed within the heated water, with sweet lavender and rose oils addressing her skin. They dressed her in a red sleeveless gown with gold dragon scale designs, her red furred cloak joining, keeping her warm within the kingdom. Her husband was dressed in his usual uniform of leather black, the house Targaryen banner on the front of his tunic, sword by his side. Her gold crown was placed over silver braids of perfection, a silver stained dragon necklace with red lacing was placed around her neck. A dragon laced bracelet was placed along his forearm, looking as though a baby dragon had been wrapped around her arm arm.

"The Queen Deanerys Daeny Targaryen, first of her name, daughter of the purest of dragons, queen of the Andals and first men, protector of the seven kingdoms, the true unburnt, and the wielder of ice and fire. Joined by King consort Aemond Targaryen the one eyed prince, Prince Alysanne Targaryen first of his name, prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Deanerys Targaryen second of her name, heir to driftmark and princess of Dragonstone." a guard introduced the royal family.

"We welcome you to Kingslanding my lord." Daeny softly spoke towards Cregan with a soft smile. He bowed his head smiling towards the female, taking in how much she's grown into the beautiful queen he hears so much about now a days. Her baby bump was noticeable through the dress she wears, and Aemond stands beside her protectively.

Daeny made her way towards the Iron throne, Aemond and Deamon following behind her, hands on their swords. She sat down, Aemond right beside her while Deamon stood at the stairs. "I'm sure you did not travel all this way just to catch up my lord." she spoke more seriously. "I have come to make a pact between the Stark's and the Targaryen's. My son is only a few years older than your daughter, I came to ask for their betrothal." he spoke up. "My daughter is 6 years old my lord. The last thing we are thinking of for her right now is marriage. Instead a pact between a Stark and Targaryen has never once truly been fulfilled." she softly spoke.

"We where once engaged my queen." he softly spoke towards her. "And it was unfulfilled by both of our families my lord." she softly replied. "Though I will consider your words, one cannot say it will be accepted, but take with you that it will be considered." she softly spoke. She wasn't confirming nor denying, but Aemond and her knew that in the end the betrothal will be denied.

"You've had a long journey my lord. For the night my home is yours, feast, lay, and drink." she softly spoke with a sweet smile. The Stark's bowed the where led to their temporary chambers for the night. "I don't need to think of it.. Our daughters hand is not for sale." Aemond muttered.

Mexes let out a yawn standing from her laying position shaking off her sleep. "Hello love, how on earth did you sleep through the North's forthcoming hm?" she questioned only to earn another yawn from the dragon.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @divergenceffxvzine ! I couldn’t resist the opportunity to write LunaNyx (with some happy Crowe and Libertus). And thanks to another zine I was in, this is part 1 of 3 =D

…

…

…

…

Nyx could count his customers with his fingers. Which wasn’t a good thing for any business, let alone one that he co-owned. If it weren’t for the fact today was Wednesday, Nyx would be worried. Luckily, their weekends more than made up for the workday lull, and Libertus had a way with suppliers that kept their costs low enough that they stayed out of the red.

Still, it didn’t bode well for their bar’s future. Nyx absentmindedly cleaned a glass as he glanced around the room. A hole in the wall, their place was just big enough to fit thirty people comfortably and forty if they went the sardine route. Today, there were just ten, with six of them scattered around the room, drinking and snacking on the small finger foods Libertus liked cooking up. Their new hire, Crowe, twirled between the wooden tables and chairs, picking up dirty dishes and refilling empty glasses.

Despite Libertus’s complaints, she insisted on wearing a leather jacket and pants, looking like she’d stepped out of some edgy action movie instead of working as a waitress. Nyx was certain they’d had an uptick of twenty-somethings visiting the bar these days, trying to get her number. It was probably the only reason they could afford to keep her on as long as they had. Their customers were lucky they didn’t know just how protective Libertus was, taking to her like a duck to water.

She spun on her heel, returning to the bar with a smug grin and a fistful of tips. Nyx set the glass down and grinned as she passed him. “Good night?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Crowe winked as she waved a receipt at him. On the back, he could just make out a number messily scrawled in pen. “Think I’ll get lucky tonight.”

Nyx glanced at their customers, wondering just who had finally bit the bullet. “Just be careful out there.”

Crowe rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Now you’re sounding like Libertus.”

He winced. “And no one wants that.” 

“Nope.” She waved as she headed back to the kitchen. “Though, I do want to see his face when I tell him. I’ll give him the orders myself.”

“Just don’t kill him, or you’re cooking tonight,” Nyx called out. She laughed before disappearing through the curtains into the back of the bar. Still, she had a point earlier. Despite himself, he was also getting attached to the newbie. Maybe it was time they gave her a proper Galahd welcome. They could close the bar early and make a real party out of it too.

A soft chime interrupted his thoughts, and Nyx looked up as a woman walked through the door. No, not a woman, a lady. Despite her plain clothes, there was something regal about the way she walked, about her posture and confident gaze. Her blonde hair was pinned in a high ponytail and the lack of braids marked her for a foreigner.

Nyx watched as she studied their bar curiously before her stormy blue eyes met his. Automatically, he averted his gaze, but not before he caught her lips quirk at the reaction. He wasn’t sure why he did that. He didn’t need to. Something about her looked vaguely familiar, tickling his memory.

“Pardon me, may I have a drink?” she asked as she approached the bar, amused. Her words sounded too formal for the town, let alone this bar.

“Well, this is a bar,” he replied, unable to help the quip. 

For a moment, the woman stared at him, and he feared he’d gone too far. Before he could say anything, she laughed softly. “That is true. My mistake. Is there a menu I can peruse?”

“A menu?” Nyx raised a brow before gesturing at the small chalk board at the end of the table. “There’s that, I guess, but it’s easier just to ask.”

“Oh, I see.” She brushed a delicate lock behind her ear as she eyed the board. His gaze flickered to her dainty hands. It didn’t look like she’d had a day of hard work. Whoever she was, she must have been rich at one point. A disgraced noble? An outcast? It wasn’t an unusual situation: Galahd was far enough from the mainland that they got runaways all the time. “Are there any Galahd specialities you would recommend to a stranger?”

“Plenty.” But nothing you’d like. Whatever her case, Nyx doubted this woman drank hard liquor. The drinks in Galahd weren’t for everyone and he couldn’t count how many times he’d found a traveller stumbling in the night because they hadn’t realized just how strong the drinks here were. “How about a Sylleblossom Storm?”

Resignation flickered across her expression before she asked, “Sylleblossom? Those are from Tenebrae, not Galahd.”

“Yeah, but we like to mix together things here in Galahd and make something new.” The woman acted stiff and polite, words he didn’t normally associate with anyone in a bar. He wasn’t sure if had imagined her earlier expression. Nyx pulled out a glass and placed it in front of her. “Especially if they’re two very different things.”

“Hence the ‘storm’?” Interest perked, she awkwardly hopped on the stool. Or at least, she tried to: her feet awkwardly turned, fumbling to find purchase on the lower rungs before she managed to sit down properly.

“First time in a bar?” he asked, trying not to laugh. It was an oddly clumsy move; one he didn’t expect from someone as graceful as her. With his luck, Crowe would come out right now and berate him for his manners.

“No, though it is my first time sitting right next to the bar.” The woman flushed lightly and looked away, for once seeming like an ordinary girl from the village. “The seat is taller than I expected.”

Or perhaps you’re shorter. Taking pity, he hummed his agreement. “Happens to everyone their first time.”

“I appreciate the kind words.” Still embarrassed, the woman cleared her throat and tapped the empty glass. “As you were saying about the storm?”

“An old Galahd sailor drink.” Nyx turned around, picking out two bottles from the collection behind him. Adding ice to the glass, he poured out a miniscule amount of a pale-yellow whisky. “It’s a strong one, so it doesn’t take much to forget your name.” He filled in the rest of the glass with a dark blue drink made of the Sylleblossom flower. “This lightens the flavour.”

“You are very knowledgeable.” The woman gingerly accepted her drink. “Though I suppose that is to be expected of a bartender.”

“I couldn’t work here otherwise.” Nyx chuckled.

“No, I suppose you couldn’t.” She half-smiled as she swirled the drink once before taking a sip. Her eyes widened and she took another, longer sip. “This…”

“Not what you’re used to?” Nyx guessed, grinning. “I doubt anyplace but a dive like ours makes it.”

“Not at all.” Her expression hardened. If he had thought of her as soft before, she was all edges now, her eyes electric. There was something hypnotic about them. He couldn’t look away. “Is it really that obvious who I am?”

Again, something niggled in his brain, a memory he couldn’t quite place. Should he recognize her? Maybe she had a scandal recently. Forcing himself to turn away, he set the bottles back. “Well, you’re not the first high-class lady I’ve seen in town, though you’re the first in our bar.”

The woman sighed again, disappointed. “That explains why you suggested Sylleblossom.”

“Didn’t want to give you something too strong, in case you can’t find your way back.” When he turned back around, the woman was staring at him, eyes wide. Nyx wasn’t sure if she was offended. “Not saying you can’t hold your alcohol, but…well, we drink differently here in Galahd.”

“You wanted to give me something light?” she murmured.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The woman mulled it over before asking softly, “Is that really all?”

“Yeah, what else?” Nyx raised a brow. “It’s not an expensive drink, if you think I’m fleecing you.”

“No, that is not…” The woman shook her head, her posture relaxing. “I suppose there are odd coincidences in this world.”

Nyx furrowed his brow, perplexed. He was definitely missing something. “What?”

“It is nothing.” The woman stared at her drink for a moment, before taking another sip. She smiled, red lips catching his attention. “I quite like this drink.”

“It was made for you.” Nyx smiled in response. “Want another?”

“Perhaps when I finish the first.” The woman ran her finger over the rim of her glass. Suddenly, she stilled, her head half-cocked as though she were listening to someone. She glanced at the door and sighed. “I would like a rain check for that. Unfortunately, I have to return.”

Nyx stared at her, then at the door. Even through the window, he couldn’t see anyone on the brightly lit street. Perhaps even the half a glass she’d drunk was too strong for her. “Sure. Come again another day.”

“No, I am afraid I might not be able to get out like this again.” The woman studied the table before delicately plucking a napkin. “Do you have a pen?”

A pen meant a check which meant they’d have to go on a bank run tomorrow. The rich never carried small bills, no matter where they went. “Sure thing.”

Her fingers brushed his, sending an electric shock up his arm before she took the pen. Brushing her hair behind her ear, she carefully scrawled across the napkin. “Unfortunately, this also leaves the matter of your payment.”

“We don’t have a tab here,” Nyx replied automatically, frowning. They had a hard enough time paying bills with the money they got, let alone dealing with future payments.

“No, of course not.” The woman carefully folded her napkin and leaned across the bar, taking one of his hands and pressing the napkin in it. She smiled softly as she curled his fingers over it. His breath caught. If she had been pretty before, she was downright beautiful now.  “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow. Perhaps we can have that rain check then, before your payment.”

For a second, he stared at her retreating back, at the way she slipped out of her chair and across the room. She was like water lapping the shore, the tide receding after its high point. The door closed and he remembered the napkin in his hands. “I just said we don’t take tabs!”

It was too late. The woman was already gone. “Fuck.”

Annoyed with himself, he unfolded the napkin. In what was perhaps the neatest cursive known to man, an address was written on the napkin. And nothing else. “What, is she expecting a house call?”

As though waiting for this moment, Crowe barreled out of the kitchen, hissing, “Nyx! Holy shit! I can’t believe that happened!”

“I know.” He sighed.  If he was lucky, the teasing would only last a week. Libertus would never let him live it down. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Lady Lunafreya, in this dump?” Crowe ran a hand through her hair, amazed. “What was she even doing here?”

“Lady—” Nyx cut himself off. No wonder she had looked familiar—she was plastered all over the news as she travelled through the countries for her archaic oracle duties. She had always looked older in those photos, wiser, her expression firm and steady as she upheld a dying tradition. Certainly nothing like the clumsy girl who didn’t know how to order a drink.

No wonder she said she wouldn’t be able to return—he was amazed she’d been able to go through the streets unnoticed even once.

“What did she—” Crowe’s jaw dropped as she peeked around him at the napkin. “No freaking way, she gave you her address?”

Nyx stared at the elegant scrawl once more. “I guess she did.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but it looked like he was going to pay her a visit tomorrow. After all, she still hadn’t paid her bill.

[lvebug]

hair & hands

[hair]: medium blonde, darker at the roots. her hair is thick and straight and easy to manage as long as she brushes it every once in a while. so she keeps it pretty long! (longer than in the image below, probably between the lowest pieces of hair in the photo and mid chest) that can be hard to deal with re: the mask which is also a big part of why she mostly doesn't use the traditional spidey mask and instead has a domino mask!

it is often still unruly because she puts it through a lot by swinging through the city. and she'll keep it in all kinds of styles both in and out of the mask. a high, sleek ponytail or two dutch braids are quite common. as are messy buns for when shes just in a rush. but a lot of the time she'll have it down especially if she's not doing anything where it needs to be kept out of her face for a reason. or even if it does, as she leaves it down a lot as lovebug and then can't see for shit. | @inhcritance also asked this one, so i'm just gonna link you here :p

[hands]: i did already

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

hi berry <3<3 for the confession prompts, could you do the second one for jankie please? or maybe rosejan, that could also be cute

Now you know how much I love Jankie, but this prompt was so Rosé-coded, I couldn’t just not do that.

The dim light of the fairy lights wrapped around the posts of Jan’s bed were flickering. Actually, they had flickered for quite a few weeks now, she really needed to as her dad to fix that for her. But right now, with Rosé lying next to her like this, the flickering lights dancing over her face, which still had some pink stains around her hairline, Jan just realised it more. Rosé had her eyes closed, her head rested against the pillow Jan had carefully wrapped in a towel to protect it from the freshly dyed, damp pink hair. It was impossible for Jan to tell whether she was asleep or not. Her breath came in slow, even patterns, but her fingers were tightly intertwined with Jan’s under the blanket.

When Lagoona had dyed her hair blue, Jan had followed suit with her own, the deep purple slowly beginning to wash out and turning more pastel now. She liked it. She liked how Rosé would lean over in class or at lunch, brush a strand of purple out of her face or bury her nose in it, swearing that Jan’s hair smelled different now. „Not worse, you already smelled disgustingly sweet, but I like this too.“ Lagoona had replied that the chemicals just made Rosé high. That same evening, Rosé shot Jan a text.

sleepover this weekend. your place works?

Yes I am free thanks for asking and yeah, sure 💜 Why so sudden? 🤔

Mum won’t let me dye my hair so we’re doing it at your place.

ROSIE! 😧

She won’t let you come over anymore if you continue like this! 😢

chill , she doesn’t know you did the stick n poke.

Well, I didn’t want to in the first place 🙅‍♀️ it looks like you’re in a gang with those finger tattoos. ☠️

What Color did you get for your hair?

you’ll see baby

And that’s how they ended up here, their faces stuffed with marshmallows and sour candy, Rosé’s damp curls now a bright, almost neon pink, pooling around her head like a halo as it slowly dried and Jan laying beside her, watching her breathe as time ticked by. Jan was pretty proud of the job she’d done on Rosé, the dye was pretty even and they had only made a small mess in the bathroom. It was hard to focus on the dye though when Rosé tried her best to distract Jan, even with her head leaned over the bathtub.

„Lagoona kissed Jaremy last Tuesday.“

Jan had almost dropped the shampoo bottle. They had known about Lagoona‘s crush for the longest time, but Jan had not expected her to act on it. „Wow“, she mumbled, „Now I’m the only one who hasn’t had her first kiss yet.“

Rosé‘s huff echoed off the tub walls. „You’re fifteen Jan, that’s okay. Who cares anyways? Boys suck hard at kissing.“

Jan snorted. „And what am I supposed to do, kiss a girl?“

„I have.“

Jan’s hands came to a sudden halt, palms resting against Rosé‘s wet scalp. „You have?“ There was a moment of silence.

„I’m not supposed to tell because she’s dating Trevor and all, but we played spin the bottle after the hockey game and-“

Whatever Rosé said after that didn’t reach Jan’s consciousness. Denali. Pretty, short Denali with the long braided ponytail. Rosé had kissed her. Why? Jan wore her hair in a ponytail sometimes too … Stop!

She shook her head swiftly, returning to massaging Color all over Rosé‘s head. But the image of Rosé kissing another girl lingered in the back of her mind all evening.

Especially now, as her sleeping form laid so close to Jan. She wore some old Britney Spears shirt, the upper half stained all pink now. Her rosy lips were parted slightly and she snored gently. Not very loudly, just soft little huffs and vibrations. Usually, Jan fell asleep to the sound of it in minutes. But tonight, there was too much on her chest. She swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the ceiling above her. She spoke into the emptiness above her, into the space between her and Rosé.

„You know“, it felt odd to talk to no one in particular, but Jan knew the only way she’d find any rest tonight was to say it out loud, „I think I‘d like to kiss a girl too. Not Denali though! She‘s way too tiny and she’s always with the Dance Club. I can’t kiss Lagoona either, she likes Jaremy. I’m sure Crystal would kiss me if I asked, but Gigi might get jealous. She doesn’t like it when people get too close to Crystal, she always worries the bullies might start again, Jackie told me. Oh, I could kiss Jackie!“ A moment of silence left Jan still restless, nervously tracing the parts of Rosé‘s fingers where she knew the tattoos were. The ones she had sketched out for her. „But I barely know Jackie. I want to know my first kiss, it should be all romantic with butterflies in my stomach and all. I want to know that the other person won’t tell anyone. And we should trust each other too.“ She let out a deep sigh. „I’d like to kiss you, Rosé.“

A breath of silence. Another one. Then, Rosé’s body shifted, throwing her arms up with a groan. Her voice muffled by her arms, both thrown over her head, hiding her face. „Hey Jan“, She sounded drowsy, still half asleep. “Can you say that again later when i wake up and i'm able to comprehend what you just said.” 

Jan flinched, she did not expect Rosé to actually hear her. Which, well, she didn’t actually. A soft sigh escaped her lips. „It was nothing, don’t worry about it. Don’t get dye on the blanket please.“ With that, Jan turned to turn off the flickering fairy lights, trying to ignore the coldness of her hand where Rosé had let go of it.

[frenxio]

Albedo x reader - 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲-𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁/𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.2𝗞

You are a mortal commoner, capable of fighting off hilichurls, but not strong enough to defeat an abyss mage. Without a vision, you were able to venture out of Mondstadt and went to deserted places, areas where no monster would be sighted. One of those places were Falcon Coast. Near the ocean, where there's an underpopulation of monsters.

You often go there to walk or collect shells. Sometimes even playing with Jill and Will while Mack watches over the children's safety, but you never thought that there would come a day that you would see the prince in the area.

You were just walking by the beach in Falcon Coast as usual, however today you didn't see the figures that belonged to Jill, Will and Mack. You just shrugged. As long as Mack was there, you didn't need to worry about the children's safety. You should worry about yours first.

A mitachurl, who's axe was burning fire jumped from behind you and readied himself to attack. He had his axe in the air, pointing the sharpest part towards your head and yells that caught your attention. Quickly, you turned to dodge his attack and immediately strike him down with the knife that you hid. If it weren't enough, you were going to end the mitachurl, but it ran away for dear life.

You huffed. "coward."

"Impressive performance." A person started clapping their hands as they walked closer to you who just ended a 'performance' as this person said. Personally, you wouldn't even call it a performance when you only had one chance to dig a knife in its skin.

You turned around, harshly flinching when you saw his high quality clothing, his silver hair tied in a braided half ponytail. He was no ordinary man, you could tell at first glance. He looked like of high importance. If he was just watching you, why didn't he help? "Greetings. I'm afraid to ask but, who might you be?"

"I'm Albedo, first prince of Dragonspine. Pleased to meet you." A smile formed on his face.

Swiftly, you bowed at a ninety degree angle to show your respect for the prince. "Apologies, I did not realise sooner. What might your business be here in Falcon Coast?" You eyed him up and down, then beyond him to search for his knights and transport but, as one can describe, it was empty.

He let out a gentle laugh from between his lips and said, "No need to be so formal. I am merely here for a walk."

You were hesitant to be informal towards a prince. You were used to highly praising those with title and wealth, while he was the first to ask you to chat with him casually. It was difficult, but you ended up doing as he said. "You came here all the way from Dragonspine? Falcon Coast must be golden to you."

"It is." he sent you an even brighter smile, and gesturing you to follow him on his walk. "How about you? I often see you walk around the area. What is your purpose here?"

A sweat drop rolled down as you scratched your cheek with a nervous laugh. You walk along side him. "I come here for the same reason as you, your highness. Ah, I almost forgot. My name is Y/n."

"I see. Then this place must be golden to you too." He breathed. "By the way, I just wanted to add, Y/n, that you don't have to call me 'your highness'. Call me Albedo. Think of me as your friend."

It didn't even cross your mind that you two would become real friends. The both of you often meet up in Falcon Coast, walking together and chit-chatting away about the differences between commoners and of highly praised prince, including the experience of being born as how they are in Teyvat.

The more you knew about him, the more you figured that he wasn't like those princes in fairytales. The ones who would come to rescue the princess, the ones who would kiss their sleeping lover to awaken, and those who would sacrifice themselves to end up with their partner. He held no understanding of love. As he explained that he's only a synthetic human as well as a scientist.

"So far, love has been the biggest projects and one of the largest mysteries that I own and wonder." Albedo looked down on the water that tickled his naked feet while you continue to observe his lips that move to speak. "It is difficult to distinguish between platonic and romantic love. However, Sucrose seems to understand. She explained it to me, but it did not answer my puzzle."

"I can sense the difficulties you have." You sighed while looking up the clear, sapphire sky. "How many attempts did you make during your biggest project?"

"Lots." he gave a simple answer and continued. "Sucrose became my experiment, and yet I still couldn't understand. Would you be willing to be my subject? I assure you that you will be safe throughout the entire plan."

You directed your gaze to his green eyes. A gentle smile exposed itself on your lips as you nodded, agreeing to take part of his activity. You didn't think that you were going to hold hands, hug and kiss like romantic partners do. However it happened in real life. In Dragonspine where his camp resides, you acted like lovers.

He had his pen and paper out on the table, sitting on his desk, then looked at you. "Alright, are you prepared?" This time, he wasn't wearing his fancy, wealthy prince-like clothing. He was wearing a fashionable white robe over a fashionable blue collar shirt. You were wearing one of his winter clothes which he offered.

You nodded. "Yep! I'm ready."

He extended his arm, reaching for your hands. Gently, he entertwined his fingers with yours. Even with this interaction, he didn't feel anything out of ordinary but your heart was responding to it. It was fast. You hoped to Archons that he can't hear a single beat that emit from your chest. "Do you feel any different, Albedo?"

He shook his head, disappointed. "No. I really don't feel anything. Maybe we should try a different method that could work. Try and... talk to me sweetly."

"Swee-" you choked. Was he serious? Well, on second thought, he might be serious. It's an experiment that he wanted to come to a conclusion on for a long time. Although you highly didn't want to speak to him romantically, you suppose that you could do it for his sake.

You shakily breath in and out. The thought already makes your face heat up and hands sweat. Oh, you hope that he didn't mind. Your eyes steadily removed from eye contact with him and stuttered out the words, "your hands... they fit well with mine. Maybe we are destined to be together."

His jaw slightly dropped. It was unnoticeable but, he flinched. His heart quietly skipped a beat just by looking at your embarrassed expression right now. He felt a small, tiny, perhaps love? He wasn't so sure anymore, but now he got a reaction.

He detached his hands from yours and began writing down the results on the piece of paper. He was speechless, without an opinion to say. It was irritating you, really. You wanted him to say a word, at least something. It was embarrassing to say those things to a prince, let alone to a friend.

"Are we... done?" You asked.

"No."

Really?

Once he was finished with what he was writing, he stood up from his seat and started walking towards you. It was menacing, almost threatening of the way the distance between you two continued getting shorter and shorter. Until the tip of his foot almost touched with yours. Then, he wrapped his arms around your body. The act of hugging another was his next attempt. Though he has done it dozens of times with Sucrose, he couldn't get a reaction out of himself, but he was seeing the affect on you when he nuzzled his face in your neck. "Are you, perhaps enjoying this experiment?"

He talked like a whisper and it vibrated your skin. There was no space between you two. He was heavily relaxed under your touch while you felt tense. Why though? He's your friend and there was no need to be so alert. "I'm, I'm not enjoying... this - well, it's an, it's an experiment!"

He sighed and chuckled. "From my previous attempts, I have discovered that one party tends to lie when embarrassed during such a situation. Are you?"

You also sighed, leaving cold air from your slightly open mouth. Then slowly dragged your arms up to return Albedo's hug, causing another reply from the boy's chest. "I might be lying, or I might be telling the truth."

He pulled away from you and coughed into his fist, announcing that it was the end of the experiment. You thought that there would be extended hours of doing, this... clearly, you were wrong. Although you did spend daily in his camp, continuing his research. Everyday, just affection and sweet talks, including dates in Mondstadt. There's no questioning why the rumours of you and Albedo's relationship spread like haywire. Drinking out of the same cup, sleeping on the same bed, cuddling up together while watching a late night movie... it's not what friends do anymore.

They were all just experiments, so why, why Archons, did you develop these feelings for him? Even way before the experiments, your affection towards him started shedding light. You wanted to hide it, pressure it down the abyss, but... it continued to grow that it was out of your control to cover.

"I want to have an attempt at this one." Albedo walked to you. You were peacefully reading a book on the bed, and your face started visibly getting more crimson when he mentioned a new experiment. Oh, what could that be?

He crouched down in front of you, locking eyes. He was silent. He wasn't giving any information on the experiment details, so you were left confuddled. Then, he spoke words. Words of love.

"I, I love you."

Your breath hitched. Now you looked like a tomato, but what cooled your temperature was reality. Albedo didn't mean those words, they were just for experiment to get a reaction out of him. To feel what real love felt like. Gosh, it hurts. It felt like he was playing with your feelings, in fact you were just a subject.

This pain felt like it was wrapped with harmful needles. Say, what would Albedo call this emotion if he were to experiment on it? You knew the name of it, but what would he call it?

You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, rolling the painful four words out of your mouth. "I love you too."

Albedo didn't leave a drop of his feelings with his confession, but you poured everything out with yours.

"Y/n..." The prince put forth his hand and gently caressed your soft, reddened cheeks. Your hands were usually icy, but your face was on fire. "Why are you crying?"

Tears continuously ran down. You couldn't prevent them from falling at all, even if you tried. The whimpers and whines didn't hold back either. You didn't have control over this emotion.

"I'm, I'm crying because - " You sniffed. "I really, really do love you! I love you so much! Knowing that you don't feel the same makes me so, upset..."

He fell silent once again and only your tears echoed in the camp. The fire was playing in the distance, emitting crackling noise, but you were his focus. Not the fire, no other. You're the only one he understands this very moment. Of course you would feel this way. In the first place, he told you that you were a subject for this experiment. These acts of romance must have affected you badly.

"I apologise." He put both of his hands on your cheeks, cupping them. "I didn't mean to make you feel upset, but I may have something that will end your tears."

He caught your gaze, good. This gentle smile of his returned on his face. The one he greeted you with the first time you met him in Falcon Coast. "Ever since I met you, there was this feeling within my chest that lingered, and it bothered me."

"It piqued my interest, and I wanted to learn more about you so I could understand my emotions, but I never knew I'd feel this way."

"What, what do you mean?" You whispered, only for him and his ears alone to hear.

His smile became more gentle, then went in for a peck of kiss on your cold cheeks. Which took effect when your cheeks returned to crimson. You were a tomato again. The face that he oh, so genuinely loves. "I also love you, truly. I discovered that long ago, but I didn't want to tell you because I don't desire to return to our normal friendship."

A smile cracked up your lips, then a chuckle turning into a burst of laughter. Your tears dried up thanks to his truthful confession. "You really are a horrible prince."

"Of course."

Albedo was not the type of prince in a fairytale. The ones who would rescue the princess, the ones who would kiss their sleeping lover to awaken, and those who sacrifice themselves for their partner. He would put a test subject in an experiment and end up blossoming love for one another.

[izzy-b-hands]

Murray/OC transmasc character because. I don't have an excuse lmaooo, i haven't written Reader-adjacent/OC kinda fics in a bit for any fandom, but I've just got a Need To Write Anything rn and this idea won't leave me so

Here we be.

NSFW as well because i wasn't gonna finally take this idea on and not have Murray get some lol.

---

"So, do you think you could manage them too?"

Murray looks to the man sitting on an overturned empty metal rubbish bin by Bret.

Pretty, especially the eyes. Almost grey, but a hint of a pale blue in there as well. Thick dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail that had been braided. He wondered if there was anyone that braided that for them, or if they did it themselves-

"Murray," Jemaine snaps his fingers in front of his face. "Yes or no? Because if it's a no, then Lux needs to get back to ours and get back to work."

Murray frowns. "What? You said Lux is a musician. That makes it sound like they're your house cleaner! No offense meant if that is the case, of course."

"We don't need a house cleaner," Bret says.

"We also don't have a house," Jemaine notes.

"An apartment could still have a house cleaner come by," Lux adds.

"Oh, yeah," Bret nods. "Would you wanna do that for us?"

"Are you paying me?"

Jemaine and Bret look away.

Lux hesitates. "Could I come use your bathroom while I'm busking if I offer to help clean?"

"Yeah, why not?" Jemaine replies. "We aren't that bad though."

Bret gives Murray a knowing look. It could be cleaner. They all know that.

"That matter is settled then," Murray declares. "Just going to add that to the band meeting agenda quickly...there we are!"

"I don't need much help," Lux says. "Someone to help me arrange gigs, mostly. I have a habit of losing or forgetting details about them, or I get busy and don't call back to confirm I'll be there and...yeah."

Lux rubs the back of their neck awkwardly. It's fucking adorable.

Internally, Murray scolds himself. Things have only been properly done with Shelley for a year, and he's not the type for a rebound. He ought to give it another six months to a year at least.

"I can do that," Murray says. "Let's get you a file."

He pulls a manila folder from his desk and an extra legal pad. "Okay. Name?"

"Lux," Lux replies.

"Lux what?"

"Just that," Jemaine says. "Like Prince."

"Or Cher," Bret adds. "Oh, or Kermit!"

"...The Frog?" Murray hesitates. "But he does have a last name: The Frog."

"No," Bret scoffs. "That's like a title. We don't call Lux 'Lux The Human.'"

"We can discuss that in more detail later," Murray sighs. Truthfully, he really just wants to hear Lux talk. Their voice pitches a certain deep note now and again, and it makes his heart pound.

"I play the theremin," Lux says. "But I have some knowledge of wind instruments and strings as well, if you think that would be good to add on."

"But you're only a one person act," Jemaine frowns. "How-"

"Viol strapped to a table by your theremin," Bret suggests. "One hand can use the bow, the other the theremin? I mean it won't sound great-"

"That would sound terrible," Murray wrinkles his nose. "Let's stick with the theremin alone for now."

Lux smiles.

Oh, that's dangerous. He wants to make them smile again.

"Any gimmicks or themes you stick to?" he asks.

Lux ponders it. "Grungy goth? Like, I'm dressed like this-"

Lux stands to show off tight black skinny jeans with a decently large hole ripped in one thigh. It shows off the edge of a tattoo, with no way to tell how big the full piece is.

Over that is a long-sleeved black tunic, and over that a grey knit cardigan.

On their feet, a pair of black leather platforms, and a final pop of color on their ears in the form of red broken heart earrings.

"I see," Murray tries to say it normally, but he can feel Bret's eyes on him.

"Now, part of it is I can't afford new shit right now, but it works," Lux continues. "And the goth bit too is like, all my music is creepy funerary."

"How does busking go with that genre?" Murray asks.

"About as well as you'd expect," Lux giggles. "That's why I need you."

He's got to be imagining the look Lux gives him. They hold his gaze for an extra moment; their hand flies to cover what looks like another smile.

He can't concentrate. Who could?

"So-"

"Guys, maybe you and Murray should finish up your band meeting, and then Murray and I can have our own after?" Lux suggests. "You can still give him all the ideas you have for me, and that way we can discuss them without taking time away from Flight of the Conchords stuff."

"Alright," Jemaine nods. "Where are you-"

"Murray, did you eat lunch?" Lux interrupts.

"Had planned to, but a dog stole my lunch bag again," Murray replies. "He dropped it, but he looked so hungry and he'd already had it in his mouth, so when he grabbed it again..."

"Oh Murray," Bret frowns.

"Like a paper lunch bag or an insulated one?" Jemaine asks.

"Insulated, but I can buy a new one," Murray waves away the question.

"That's lovely," Lux says. "I bet you made that dog's day."

He can feel himself blushing, and Jemaine and Bret staring him down again.

"Well, I didn't have lunch either," Lux continues. "So write down what you want on a sticky note there, and I'll go out and get it. By the time I'm back, it'll probably be time for our meeting."

He jots down a generic fast food order, not really all that concerned with eating for now.

As he hands it to Lux, there's the brush of fingertips. He wonders how lovely Lux's hands look at work with the theremin.

The thought makes him entirely too warm for a band meeting.

"I'll see you in a bit," Lux smiles and leaves with a wave, sticky note in hand.

"Murray," Bret says as the office door closes. "I know what you're thinking."

"That you guys should get some emergency fund money to go buy yourselves each a new cup?"

"No," Bret replies. "Wait, but can we actually? We broke both our cups last week."

"Been using our one bowl and straws for tea," Jemaine adds. "It really burns."

"Not great for the singing voice," Bret says. "Like the opposite of what tea should do for it."

Murray frowns. "That's no good. Here."

He pulls a fifty dollar bill from the envelope of money in his desk drawer. It holds what little savings he has left.

"Go on, and go buy some new cups. A new bowl too!"

"Are you sure?" Jemaine asks as he takes the bill. "Are we done with the band meeting already? Because we didn't really discuss anything about us yet."

"Or about how you definitely want to get with Lux," Bret says.

"Yeah, that too," Jemaine nods.

"Look, I'm not going to be improper," Murray sighs. "I just want to see if there's a connec-"

"No, we know," Bret interrupts. "Earlier, I was trying to say I'm sure you thought Lux was coming on too strongly. We did tell them to be chill-"

"More than once," Jemaine interjects.

"But...I don't know," Bret chuckles. "The more we told them about you, the more dreamy-eyed they got."

"Like how Bret looks at pictures of David Bowie," Jemaine explains.

"Like how we all look at pictures of David Bowie," Bret scoffs. "Don't deny it."

"He's right," Murray nods. "So... they're into me? Like for real?"

Jemaine and Bret nod.

"I think we should go buy some cups," Bret smiles. "And let Murray prepare for Lux's onboarding band meeting."

They leave discussing what kinds of cups they want, and if they might even have enough for some plates, and normally Murray would feel sad at their leaving.

But today, he's happy to watch them go.

--

"Here we are," Lux sets the bag of fast food on his desk. "How did it go with the boys?"

"Fine," Murray replies. "Went over the usual things. You know."

"Like what?"

Neither of them have made a move for the food, and he has a feeling it might be cold by the time they get to it.

He's very much alright with that.

"What sort of gigs they want," Murray says. "If they have new merch ideas."

"Ooh, speaking of," Lux says. "I had kind of a weird idea for merch for me."

"Oh?"

"So, when I'm bored I sit and redesign the logo I made for myself. Still the same general idea, but different colours, patterns," Lux continues. "It's a simple one, but I thought maybe patches or stickers, or, if we partner with a tattoo shop, I could sell them as tattoo designs."

Before he can speak, Lux stands from Jemaine's chair.

"I can show you the logo, if you want."

Murray nods. "Let's see it."

Lux blushes and lifts their shirt to show off a simple, yet flashy design of their name in black and red.

The tattoo sits just at the bottom of Lux's ribcage, and while there's nothing inherently sexual about the location, the flash of skin is about to do him in.

"Like what you see?"

Murray nods, then shakes his head. "Wait, no, I do like the design and the ideas! I didn't want..it came off like-"

"I know," Lux interrupts softly. "And I was asking both ways."

He hasn't felt like this since his first years with Shelley, and only now does he realize how much he's missed it.

"I know with any big record company or music agency this would be something frowned upon," Lux says. "But you already manage a band and have your consulate job. So I trust you with that mix of priorities."

Murray nods. "Um. Does that mean. Well, it must mean, no, must is presumptuous-"

"I'm waiting for you to kiss me," Lux says, and steps behind his desk.

He's certain he's going to fumble some part of this. And if it ends things right here, then so be it. He's not going to let that hold him back.

He stands and pulls Lux into a kiss. His hands toy with the edge of their tunic, but he goes no further until Lux nods and tosses the tunic off and aside.

"You're still serious about this, right?" Murray asks.

"I am," Lux replies, and leans up to kiss his neck.

"Such a mean manager," they joke in between kisses. "Making me wait so long."

"For what?" Murray asks, just before the lightbulb goes off. "Oh! Oh, well, I don't want to be too mean-"

Lux's hand rests on his belt buckle, a nonverbal question.

"Yes, please," Murray says, trying to sound like he isn't begging. But he can admit he is, a little bit. So much for not being desperate for a rebound.

The rest of their clothes come off in short order, dropped to the floor around his desk.

Lux sits on his desk. "I hope you know I'm not just trying to get in your pants for my music. And Bret told me to think realistically but..."

They hesitate. "If you'd maybe want to see if this could be more than a one night thing... I'd like that. If you would too, and if not that's perfectly fine of course-"

"I'd like that," Murray interrupts as gently as he can. "Maybe after this, we could take the food back to mine and heat it up? Have a movie night together."

Lux beams and nods, and he feels like he just won a fucking Grammy.

"Oh," Lux says as he drops to his knees in front of their spread legs. "You don't have to if you don't want to. Not everyone-"

"What, wants to go down on you?" Murray asks. "Why wouldn't they?"

Lux shrugs. "I've only been with a few guys that were into it with me."

"Well, their loss," Murray says, and wraps his arms around Lux's thighs to keep them in place.

He focuses solely on doing everything he can to make their legs shake. Sucking and licking at their cock, tongue lapping at their folds, and his nose pressing against their skin.

He knows the office is empty by now. Bret and Jemaine had asked to come in later, and honestly that worked better. For band meetings, but especially for this.

"Sorry," Lux murmurs after a loud whine. "I'll cover my mouth."

"Don't you dare," Murray says, surprised at himself. He likes it though. "I want to hear you."

Lux is still fairly quiet, but the panting and gentle moans he earns are perfect.

"Might want to pull away when I-" Lux pauses to grind down against Murray's face. "Yeah, you know. Fuck me."

"I'm getting there," Murray lifts his head and peppers kisses over the inside of Lux's thighs. "Come for me this way first."

"Why on earth did your wife leave you?" Lux asks.

"Because sex isn't everything, and I make poor financial decisions," Murray sighs. "Per my ex, that is. She's not wrong."

"Well, that's not a deal-breaker for me," Lux says. "Who doesn't make a poor financial choice now and then?"

Murray presses a longer kiss to Lux's right thigh, then kisses his way back to where he's most wanted.

It takes a moment more, then Lux's thighs clench hard around him.

He laughs when he's free from their grasp. "I understand what you meant about moving now. Didn't mind that at all though."

"Mhm," Lux mumbles blissfully.

"If you do want a break, or to st-"

"Murray," Lux says, eyes fluttering back open. "If you make me wait all that will happen is I'll end up wanting to fuck you in your car."

"You really want me that badly?" Murray asks as he stands. Everything thus far has shown it, but it's unfamiliar enough for him to worry he ought not take it for granted.

Lux nods. "Please."

"Um. I don't know how to ask this delicately," Murray hesitates. "I'm clean and snipped, but I think Jemaine left condoms here because he didn't want Bret stealing them for himself."

"Has he ever come back for them?"

"Ah, no," Murray shakes his head. "I think he forgot about them, but they're not expired and-"

"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," Lux interrupts, pulling him close, legs wrapped around his waist.

That's more than enough impetus to slip himself inside of them.

His office door creaks open, and they both crick their necks to see what the fuck is happening.

"Murray, we got the cups, but could we steal some tea from the offi-" Bret looks up from the new cup in his hand. "Oh."

"Hi" Lux says. "You guys need tea?"

Bret nods. "I should have kno-"

"Did he say we could take the teabags or not," Jemaine interrupts, pushing past Bret into the office. "Oh."

"Oh my god," Murray drops his face into Lux's shoulder. "Yes. Just take them and go."

"You guys should have locked the door," Jemaine says. "I would, if I had an office to fuck in."

"Yeah, but I could have knocked," Bret adds. "Even if they weren't fucking, they would have been in the middle of a band meeting."

"Ah yeah, sorry," Jemaine winces. "We'll just collect the tea and g-"

"Please leave," Murray says desperately.

They trip over each other as they go, thankfully shutting the door behind them.

"I understand if you want to just go," Murray says as he lets himself slip out of Lux and step back. "I'm so sorry."

Lux sits up. "Why would I do that?"

"Mood's ruined a bit, I think."

"So what?" Lux shrugs. "Let's get dressed, take the food back to yours, and continue there."

He blinks. "Seriously?"

Lux nods and hops off the desk. "We were going to do that anyway, and we can get up to more in a bed than on a desk anyway."

Murray can't hold back a grin. "Okay! Yeah, let's... alright!"

"You're cute," Lux giggles, and brings him his shirt with a kiss.

They finish up and grab the food, locking Murray's office door and the main consulate door after them.

Lux holds his hand on the way out, and he decides he'll happily manage them for sure.

And if they want some dates arranged with him in between gigs, well, he'll happily do that too.

--

"I think they left," Jemaine peeks out from the dark break room/kitchen. "Shit."

Bret peers out beside him. "Oh. Well, if we leave we can't lock it."

"No, we can't."

They stare at the door together for a moment, as if Murray and Lux might burst back in.

"Should we eat those leftover donuts and sleep under the table until tomorrow?" Bret asks. "Don't want Murray to get in trouble if the door is unlocked."

"You just want the donuts."

"It can be both!"

Jemaine nods. "Might as well steal the rest of the tea too."

"Might as well."

[luckyluan]

BRIMMENS MULTIVERSITY

THE HUMAN HIRE

FEBRUARY 5 - 11:04AM 

Principal Goddfrey sat with her plump ringed fingers interlocked. Her long twin braids pulled her dark hair back into two long ponytails which cascaded down her back. Her gold pant suit shimmered, undoubtedly assisted by her particular brand of glamourcraft, and the glare made Mr. Prior avert his gaze. 

“Tell me more.” she said. 

Peter Prior sat up a little straighter and flattened his tie against the taut buttons struggling against his soft middle section. He aimed his hazel gaze at the holographic name plate on her desk. 

“Well, Principal Goddfrey,” he began. “The mortal world is filled with challenges and obstacles the children in your institution will never face. Bills. Things falling apart. I think teaching them mortal life skills will help them blend in.” 

“And why on earth would we ever want to blend in, Mr. Prior?”  

Principal Goddfrey’s stern gaze sparkled as she looked over him and he realized her appearance was never static. Her style—the color of her suit, the cut of the jacket, the shape of the buttons—was transient. The neckline of the shimmering golden pantsuit rose to her collar bone and the satin lapels of her jacket widened as a fresh magnolia bloomed through the opening in her lapel. 

“I, simply, mean the young witches you have in your school will go on to live extraordinary lives. All that power and no responsibility for the people who can’t do what they can is dangerous.” Mr. Prior said. 

His throat was dry as he waited for Principal Goddfrey’s response. 

“Whomever told you we had a responsibility to the human world must not have told you how the school came to be?” Principal Goddfrey breathed. 

She rose, lithely, from her plush desk chair and strolled to the large window facing the campus. The grounds of Brimmings unfolded beneath them in spiraling corridors and wandering concrete paths which no map could contain.  

“This school exist because it was, first, an asylum. The students that now walk these halls were first called patients and those in charge stripped them of their humanity and turned them into lab rats. These students, myself, and my kind have zero responsibility to the human world who made us their test subjects.” Goddfrey finished. 

“I’m sorry, maam.” Mr. Prior stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend.” 

“You humans never mean to offend.” Goddfrey said with smile. “But I see your point. Which is why I am approving your Humanities course for one full term. We’ll evaluate at the end of the year.” 

Peter Prior hastily stuck his tongue between his teeth as his excitement blossomed.  

“Thank you, Principal Goddfrey. I promise to impress you!” He stammered. 

“Oh, it’s not me you’ll need to impress.” Principal Goddfrey mused. 

She dropped into her cream office chair and her metallic blazer shifted into high collared cashmere sweater with oversized sleeves and golden buttons. 

“You’re the first mortal to walk the halls of Brimmens Academy. You’ll need to impress the students first and they can’t wait to meet you. You’ll start tomorrow.”  

Peter Prior stuffed his pamphlets deep into his briefcase and jumped to his feet. He strolled to the door and gripped the cold winged tiger shaped handle. Then, a though struck him. 

“Wait, what do you mean impress the students? I don’t have any powers. I’m human.” 

Principal Goddfey blew on the tip of a fountain pen and answered without looking up. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” She said. “Just know my door is always open. Well, metaphorically. My office has its on plane for a reason. Until tomorrow, Mr. Prior.” 

A weight pressed down on his shoulders and a chill ran down his spine as the office faded from view. Peter Prior, the human hire, was standing in the empty parking lot of an abandoned building with his hand gripping the door handle of his small silver car. He looked around. He was certain he’d just done something important though he could not remember the event at all.