i already have enough of those to last the rest of my family tree

gold and silver ⋅ part 1

medieval + fantasy au (based on game of thrones)

◇ pairing: hoseok | reader
◇ genres: drama, light angst and romance 
◇ word count: 12.308
warnings: future depictions of violence, implied sexual content
author’s note: you can easily read this story without having any game of thrones’ knowledge. I mostly took the main settings of the tv show, but other than that, you can just consider this a medieval au. please enjoy! :)

⇢ chapters: one | two (ending)

You meet Jung Hoseok on a searing afternoon, round sun high in the sky and clouds as bright and golden as the weightless tunic that reaches down your legs.

You try not to show an obvious discontent when you hear the familiar, metallic sound of steel armor coming closer, a sigh getting stuck in your throat as you realize your days of hiding have finally come to an end. The residence of the king, otherwise known as the Red Keep, is large enough to get lost easily if you do not memorize the steps you leave behind, which sounded more exciting than it should have when you first arrived to the city one week ago, completely by yourself and miles away from family and friends.

You rapidly found concealed spots where curious eyes would not burn on your skin, and a particular favorite was located deep inside the Godswood of the castle — greenish, colorful gardens that extended towards the stunning sights of the Blackwater Rush, one of the major rivers of the country.

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Angels in the Bunker

Characters: Gabriel, Castiel, Balthazar, Lucifer x Reader (you’ll see *wink wonk*)

Word Count: 1,580

Warnings: Fluff!

A/N: This was requested by @averagegaykid! I loved writing this one, so I hope you all enjoy it! I hope you’ve all enjoyed Satan Sunday this week!! I love you all so much!!

You assembled the four angels, all of them standing together in front of you.  They all towered over you, which was one of the reasons you recruited their help.  While the Winchesters were gone, you were going to decorate the bunker for Christmas.  It was not an easy task to do by yourself.  

You had them each bring along different decorations.  Balthazar was to get the Christmas tree, and the ornaments for it.  Gabriel was supposed to get lights for the tree, along with stockings.  Castiel was sent to get candy for the stockings, along with candy canes for the tree.  You asked Lucifer to bring one thing, garland.  You knew Lucifer was not a fan of Christmas, but he could never say no to you.

“Alright my angels,” you smiled.  “We only have the rest of today and a little bit of tomorrow to decorate the bunker.  Dean and Sam don’t take long on hunts.  They’ll be even quicker when they realize this is just a ruse.”

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Kill Zone - Prologue

Characters: Reader ( Special Agent Y/N Singer), Special Agent Castiel Novak, Dean Winchester, Cindy Stevenson (OC), Ella McKenzie (OC), Agent Samuel Campbell, Agent Crowley MacLeod,    

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader (eventually)

Warnings: Blood, violence, injuries, torture (not overly graphic), murder, character deaths  

Word Count: 2000ish

A/N: This is a serial killer AU of sorts. Not the typical kind, but it has all the death and violence these kinda AU bring with it. It was sorta inspired by Criminal Minds, and that is why my agents are profilers.

This series will have deaths, violence, love, heartwarming moments and everything in between. I am hereby warning you for yet another rollercoaster ride led by me ;)

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Thanks to the amazing @percywinchester27 for being my advisor and beta on this one.

Technical Terms: MO: An offender’s method of carrying out an offense


Cindy was running as if her life depended on it, because it did. The branches snapped under her bare feet. The sharp rocks dug into her skin like razors each time she fell, but every time she got back up. Blood was soaking through her shirt and jeans from the wounds where his knife had pierced her flesh. Her racing heart was pumping her blood faster through her veins, causing the blood to escape her body even faster, and making her head spin.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die.

The words repeated themselves over and over again in her mind, like a chant, as she tried to get away from her kidnapper. Her kidnapper, who had set her free. Who had instructed her to run, before slowly walking off in the opposite direction, carrying his rifle over his shoulder.

She had cried and begged for her life, screaming till her throat was sore and hoarse, but he hadn’t turned around. He hadn’t worthied her a second glance, so she had done the only thing her exhausted and befuddled mind had let her. She had ran.

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Consider this a 3 am AU written entirely on mobile tumblr in which Neil is a runaway prince and Andrew is a bandit/thief/Robin Hood-esque whatever the fuck with his family + Kevin, and like most of the plot is over and done with.


“Abram.” The name rolls off of Andrew’s tongue, unfamiliar. “Abram,” he repeats. “Is that a truth?”

“It’s the only truth I know,” Neil responds. “But if ‘Neil’ is a lie, I’d like to keep it so for as long as possible.”

“You are Neil Josten,” Andrew says. His tone holds no room for arguments. Neil has never been good at listening to such things, though.

“I am Nathaniel Wesninski,” he says, barely forcing the words out. “I am Prince Nathaniel Wesninski and my father–”

“You are Neil Abram Josten.” Even if he had not spoken, the conviction behind Andrew’s eyes would have been enough to shut him up. He wonders, not for the first time, how anyone could believe him to be heartless. How anyone could believe him to be The Monster that they’ve all labeled him as. Perhaps Andrew is more human than all of them. Maybe he just knows the truth better than all of them. Maybe, perhaps. “You are Neil Abram Josten and you are one of us.”

It’s the last words that knock the air out of his chest. “I’m one of you?” Neil breathes, eyes wide.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Andrew leans forward to flick his forehead. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

“I’m dangerous to you, and your family.”

“So is Kevin.”

“But you have a deal with Kevin.”

“I had a deal with you.”

There’s a silence. A bird chirps. The wind rustles through the trees. The moon just barely shines through the leaves above them.

Andrew lifts a hand and it hovers just beside Neil’s bandaged cheek. He’s giving him a choice. Neil leans to the side, letting him cup his cheek as he closes his eyes. He hasn’t touched Andrew since Riko took him. He is still warm, although the air is cool. He had thought Riko would bring him to is father, and he’d never feel him again. He’d been prepared for that. Now, he doesn’t know if he would ever be able to leave again.

“Your father still believes Riko to be alive and on his way to him,” Andrew murmurs lowly, stroking his thumb along the bandage. “All it would take is a worded letter to your uncle. He would be dealt with–him and his men.”

“And who will take over?” Neil asks. He opens his eyes. “I am not fit to be king.”

“You are a leader, Neil Josten. You will do fine. It is your birthright.”

“I have not been learning to be a leader in years. I am out of practice.”

“Your uncle can help you. You can build an alliance through your father’s death, and he can teach you to be king. He loves you enough to do so.”

“And what of you? And Nicky, and Aaron, and Kevin?”

Andrew is quiet while he ponders this. “What do you want? What is it that you wish for us to do?”

“I wish for you all to be able to find somewhere to rest.”

“Even Aaron?”

“…I suppose. He is your brother. I can retract your criminal status. You can have a place in the palace.”

“So you are planning on becoming king, then.”

“I–.” Neil blinks. He hadn’t realized. “I suppose so.”

Andrew nods. “We shall send a letter to your uncle, then?”

“I do not need him to fight my battles.”

“You will not fight your father.” It’s an ordwr, but it sounds like a plea. Neil is and likely always will be weak to Andrew. He cannot argue when he can hear that something behind his voice.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “we will send for my uncle.”

Andrew looks at him, looks into eyes that Neil hates because they are wholly his father’s. They are eyes that Andrew finds intriguing, he knows. “The era of Wesninski will soon be over,” he says. “You will be a king bearing the name Josten. You are not your father. You will be better than him.” You are better than him, he doesn’t say.

“Andrew…” His hand is still to his cheek. He isn’t inclined to remind him to remove it. “Yes or no?”

Neil has not kissed Andrew since the night before Riko had taken him all that time ago. The last time they kissed, Neil was aware of the time limit hanging above his head. He had wanted to know the feeling of being something to Andrew before he was forced to leave them.

There is still a limit, but he feels like they have all the time in the world. Nicky and Aaron and Kevin sleep, far enough away to not be heard but still be seen. In this moment, it is Andrew Doe and Neil Josten and no one else. This is the one thing Neil has ever truly wanted. Whatever ‘this’ may be.


It is Andrew who closes the gap. Andrew who presses his lips so, so softly to Neil’s in a way that is odd, but not unwelcome.

It is not a kiss in a haze of lust. It is not one of desperation. It is not one that speaks of a goodbye and the knowledge that ‘this’ will never be anything ever again.

It is a kiss that holds the promise they had made all those months ago, and the silent promise they made just then. It speaks of that 'something’ that Andrew refuses to acknowledge. It speaks of the things they will never tell each other, but know, deep down. It speaks of battles hard won and the freedom that is so, so close. It speaks of whatever Neil Abram Josten and Andrew Joseph Doe are.

It is a kiss that speaks of everything.

southsidesserpentroyalty  asked:

your blog is so wonderful, and your so good at writting and i was wondering if you could an agnsty fic where Betty is going through domestic abuse at home (any kind will do) and jughead figures out somehow and gets angry and protective 💙💛

I’ll give it a try!

The pain was still there, throbbing and aching, her muscles tense as she shifted her heavy schoolbag onto her shoulders. It wasn’t broken, she was familiar with what a broken collarbone felt like and this was nothing more than a pulled muscle. Distinct memories flashed through Betty’s mind, her father flinging her across the room, a Pop and then blinding pain, waking up to a bruised cheek and dislocated shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to hold your bag for you, I know you said you hurt it in cheerleading but whenever I pull a muscle in football I can hardly lift my duffle.” Archie spoke from her right, his hands ready to take the heavy book bag from her hands.

With a delicate shake of her head, Betty smiled weakly at the pain where her fathers ring had landed solidly on her cheek bone.

“I’m okay, I just have to walk it off.” She smiled gratefully.

They were on their way to pops, Veronica and Kevin were waiting for them but Betty had stayed late to practice her routine and Archie had after school practice. because of her injuries these last few weeks she was falling behind and Cheryl was not happy about it. She didn’t even want to think of what the redheaded she monster would say if she saw the bruising lining Betty’s collar bone.

Archie had just finished telling her all about his fathers progress when they arrived at Pops.

“That’s so great Arch.” Betty placed a reassuring hand to his shoulder and he beamed down at his best friend. Suddenly a familiar rumble broke Betty out of her and Archie’s personal bubble.
She knew that voice, she could point it out in even in the most crowded of rooms.

Jughead Jones, Betty’s ex boyfriend and Archie’s ex best friend, seated at the far back booth, Toni Topaz on his left and a large group of Serpents surrounding him.

“We can leave, we can get pizza and hang out in the basement. You don’t have to do this.” Archie clutched Betty’s arm. It was too late, sea blue eyes had already met meadow green and Betty was never one to back down from a challenge. Making direct eye contact with the newly changed young Serpent who she loved desperately, Betty looped her arm through Archie’s wincing slightly.

“It’s okay. I’m in desperate need of a milkshake.”

Veronica was standing by the time they made it to the booth
“Do you want me to kick her ass. I will, you know I will.”

Betty smiled weakly at the way Veronica was glaring at the pink haired girl. In actuality none of this was Toni’s fault, sure she had played a minor role in the demise of their relationship but she wasn’t the main reason.

“I love you Jughead! I’m trying so hard to accept all of this, your new life, your new family but it’s too hard!”

“Don’t you get it?! I don’t want you to accept it, this is where I belong! These are my people, they know me! They’re like me. I can’t deal with living two lives!”

“Then I’ll leave! I’ll go if that’s what you want!”

She had been bluffing, desperately begging for him to fight for her, it hadn’t worked out that way however

“Maybe thats for the best. Goodbye Betty.”

Maybe he had never loved her, maybe it was just words. He had Toni now and if she made him happy than Betty was happy. Well.. she could present to be happy.

“Earth to Betty, you’re milkshake is melting.” Kevin tugged gently on her sleeve, the light pink sweater riding up and revealing the fingershaped bruises. Kevin dropped her hand like it was on fire

“What are those?! Betty what..”

“It’s nothing!” The beautiful blonde quickly interjected, tugging her sleeves down. Perhaps she had spoken a bit too loudly, suddenly she felt eyes on her, looking up she saw Jughead staring intently at the table.

“Nothing?! Those are bruises B! And they’re shaped like hand prints… is that why you’ve got all of that makeup on your face..” Veronica reached over the tables, her napkin quickly swiping some of the foundation away from underneath her eye and revealing the purple and yellow bruise forming quickly, tears filled the raven haired girls eyes as she gasped, Archie stood abruptly, his knuckles clenching the side of the booth

“Someone’s beating on you!” He nearly screamed it, Betty gripped her bookbag tighter to her chest “and your shoulder! It’s not from cheerleading! Someone’s hurting you?! Who is it?!” Archie’s words were laced in venom, spiking Betty’s anxiety.

“It’s nothing! Leave it alone. I’ve gotta go. I… I have too…” Betty ran from the diner, avoiding the gazes and barely registering her friends calling after her.

She ran until her knees buckled and her shoes scuffed the grassy area, she was at the park when she finally collapsed. They all knew. Everyone knew. He was going to kill her, her father was going to kill her. Pulling her knees to her chest she buried her head in her legs, resting against the oak tree.
Moments later a figured dropped beside her.

“Archie, please. Just drop it okay.”

“A name. Give me a name. I’ll end him right now.”

Betty’s eyes snapped open, it wasn’t her redheaded best friend sitting beside her, but instead the dark haired boy she was in love with, the boy who had broken her heart.

“Leave me alone, Jughead.”

In a very uncharacteristic snort Jughead shifted even closer to her.

“No. absolutely not. I’m not all the way sane but I’m not crazy.”

Betty pulled her bag from the ground moving to stand up

“Fine. I’ll leave then.”

Jughead was faster, placing his hands softly on her shoulders and nudging her down, his foot kicking her backpack out of her reach.

“Hey!” Betty argued

Suddenly Jughead was nose to nose with Betty, there was something so deep and guttural in his eyes it physically made Betty shutter when his hands came up to stroke the deep bruise on her cheek

“Please.” He whispered “please tell me who’s doing this to you. Let me end this. I can’t..” the shaky boy choked “I can’t let this happen. I can’t believe I didn’t see this.”

Betty closed her eyes, tears pouring from underneath her long dark lashes
“You didn’t see me at all. You have a new family. A new life. Why do you even care?”

Jughead shook his head quickly dropping his forehead to hers

“You. You are my life Betty Cooper. I watch you everyday. I see you leaving school and I make sure you make it home okay. I’m at Pops just to see you…”

Betty cut him off
“Don’t kid yourself, you’re at Pops to be with your girlfriend.”

Jughead gently brought his hands up to cup Betty’s cheeks gently

“Toni is not my girlfriend, she’s a friend. I love you Betty Cooper. That’s how it is and that’s how it will always be. I watched you go home, I made sure you made it home okay, how could I have missed it, it’s no one in school. Archie would have known, and its…” suddenly a lightbulb went off in Jugheads mind, Betty hung her head in shame.

“It’s okay Juggie. He’s working on it, he drank a lot last night and he was angry. Mom left us, she took Polly. He’s.. he’s just angry.” She protested, her voice so defeated and weak it didn’t even sound like her own.

“You’re staying with me.” Jughead dug deep in his pockets handing Betty the keychain with the keys to his fathers trailer. “I’ll keep you safe, until we can figure this out, I need you near me. I.. I need you. I’ve failed enough. Please Betty. Let me do this.”

Jughead stared team into Jugheads eyes, his hands were bunched into fists as he plead with her.

Betty nodded slowly
“Okay.” She whispered

Jughead dropped a slow kiss to her forehead, shoulders stiffening when she flinched away.

He had hurt her, he was trying to protect her but in the end he had hurt her and things weren’t okay, they needed work, but he was willing to work harder than humanly possible if it meant getting Betty Cooper back.

When he came home that night, fists bloody and lip busted he found her sleeping on the couch, hotdog at her feet

Yeah, it was way more than worth it.

Powerful - Jaime Lannister

You have loved Jaime since you were a child. Everything he had done, the people he had killed and the horrors of the rest of his family did nothing to deter your affections. But now, Cersei Lannister sat on the Iron Throne and grew more, wildly defensive with each passing day. What happened when you tell Jaime that you’ve had enough? ( Words : 1491)

Warnings : Lannister incest of course, and lots of drama???

Originally posted by my-favoritess

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Jaime Lannister asked in shock, and in concern. You had just barged into his room, tears running down your cheeks. You simply just shook your head and the Lannister man stood up. “Tell me what happened,” Jaime said softly, hoping a gentle approach would coax you to open up.

“It’s just,” you started but you couldn’t finish. More tears fell from your eyes. Jaime frowned and stepped towards you, his arms outstretched. You leaned into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt more tears fall down your cheeks when you felt his strong arms envelope your middle.

“I don’t know what happened,” Jaime started, his voice eerily calm, “but if someone hurt you, they will fall upon my blade faster than you can imagine.” You buried your face in his covered chest that his words; grateful for his support. You could feel the wet spots, where your salty tears had soaked into his shirt, against the skin of your cheek.

“Sorry,” you murmured, pulling away slightly. Yet Jaime wouldn’t let you go. His arms stayed around your waist and you could feel his chilled, gold hand against your back. “I didn’t mean to come in like that,” you whispered. Jaime moved his arm, brushing his left hand against your face to wipe away some the tears that lingered there.

“It’s quite alright, Y/N. You’ve been a family friend for how many years?” You gave him a weak smile and shrugged. You couldn’t even picture how you looked. Red in the face, your hair messed from being upset; but Jaime didn’t care. “Now,” he said, moving his hand away from your face, “what’s wrong?” His green eyes peered down into your face, as if trying to search for the answer.

“Jaime,” you said quietly. “It’s fine, I swear it,” but the Kingslayer was having none of it. His hand went to your neck, his thumb skirting against your jaw.

“Anything that makes you cry is not fine,” he said seriously. He leaned his head to yours, pressing the softest of kisses to your forehead. You swooned slightly, despite Jaime’s affection being common. Like he had said, your family had been a friend to House Lannister every since you could remember. You grew up alongside Jaime and his family, so you knew everything about him. Everything, included where his true affections lied.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling away from him fully. “I promise, it was nothing anyone did. Your hands can remain clean of blood.” Jaime gave you a half-hearted smile, as he still wished to know what had caused you to cry. He knew you far too well. You cried only in the darkest moments. When everything became too much to bear. He had seen you only a few times, once when you had been playing with his sister. It suddenly came to him in that moment. The only person who could get under your skin and make you upset without truly trying.

“It was Cersei, wasn’t it?” You curled your bottom lip between your teeth, unwilling to answer. “Y/N,” Jaime said, stepping towards you. “If it was her, I can talk to her. I can keep you away from her and,” he stopped when you started to shake your head.

“It won’t help, Jaime. You interfering might make it worse.” The Lannister cocked his head and leaned towards you again. “She’s the queen now and she’s your…”

You trailed off at that and Jaime stiffened. You had always had an inkling that there was something between the two twins. Your theories were only hardened when Joffrey came into the world; with his hair like golden spun straw.

“Do you-” you cut him off with a stern look. Your friend frowned and let you speak.

“Yes, I know. I had suspicions before, but Ceresi made it very clear this evening when I asked for your company during my travels to the Westerlands.” Jaime’s brows furrowed at your words, wondering why his sister would blatantly make their taboo romance public. “She said your place was beside her, not near the likes of myself. She said that you were hers and no one else’s.”

“That was not her place to say such things,” Jaime said, feeling angry course through his veins. “She does not control me in that manner,” he hinted at the idea of romance. You merely shook your head again, wondering why you had to love such a complicated man. You had admired Jaime as children, but those feelings had run rampant by now. Somehow, the subject of your affections had never once put that together.

“She said it anyway,” you said, turning towards the door. “I have to pack,” you said trying to suppress the tears that threatened to resurface. “I head to the Westerlands at dawn.” You stepped over to the door, your hand just brushing the knob before it was pulled away.

Jaime’s natural hand tightened around your wrist, turning you to look at him. His face was set, worried and slightly angered. You frowned and attempted to pull your hand free. Despite all your efforts, Jaime remained in your space. The close proximity, and that look in his eyes, made your insides flutter like mad.

“I will come with you,” he said, hoping to sound more calm than he felt. “Don’t let my sister intimidate you. I will let no harm come to you, especially now that you know.” You scoffed and finally got your hand free from his own. Jaime looked down at you with confusion, as if he thought his words would solve your problems.

“Especially now,” you repeated. The words left a bitter taste in your mouth. “When we were kids we’d defend Tyrion from your sister’s evil tricks. When you became Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I was there, smiling at you. Even when you lied and snuck about, I was at your side.” Everything was spilling from your heart out your mouth, and even Jaime could sense the storm coming. “But you only seem to care when you’re at stake, or when my life is balancing right on the edge. You save me in the nick of time, every time; always. Do you know what that does to a person? Toying with ones feelings after they have committed them to you.”

“No,” Jaime said quietly, his eyes still holding your gaze. He would never show it, but his heart was racing. The beautiful girl he had known since he firs held a sword was confessing her feelings to him. He didn’t know how to genuinely react, so he didn’t react very much at all. You let out a tired laugh and wiped at your eyes. You glanced back up at him, letting him see your tear stained cheeks in the soft light of dusk; letting him see the years of damage on your soul.

“For years I have stayed with you, your family. We have had each other’s backs since childhood,” you said coldly. “Despite all that time, you haven’t even glanced at me the way you look at your sister. The times I hinted at what could be between us, you were looking at her. Because she is powerful. Just as Brienne is powerful in her own right.” Jaime flinched at the mention of his companion. Granted they fought for different things now. “You love strong women,” you finished, “and I will never be enough. Not for you.”

“Y/N,” Jaime flipped through everything he could say to make this better. Then the man realized there was nothing he could say to make up for all that lost time. “I’m sorry,” he murmured and you nodded solemnly. You turned your back to him, taking a deep breath. Jaime took a step towards you then, still desperate to make amends. “Is there anything I can do to show you that you are enough. Please,” he begged, resting his chest against your back. His heart ached at the thought of you leaving him in your state. He wanted to prove he could love you just the same.

His arms hugged your waist, pulling your body flush to his front. He rested his head against the back of your shoulder and you felt his lips brush against the exposed skin there. You suppressed a shudder as his short, blond hair tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. If you let go, you would’ve melted into his touch, just as you had done so many times before. Enough was enough. You pulled free of his embrace, meeting his eyes for what could be the last time.

“Meet me at the gates if you so wish,” you whispered. “If you do join me, maybe we can work through this.” The air around the two of you had changed. With everything out in the open, it hung in the space between your bodies like a body from a tree. You could almost feel his breath on your lips, that’s how close Jaime had gotten. You hand turned the door open and you added, “we ride at dawn.”

You left Jaime, standing in his doorway with his head hung in deep thought. Going against his sister and leaving with you, meant tearing himself away from the rest of his family; his lover. But if he didn’t leave, he would lose his best friend and that was something he didn’t think he could survive. After losing his children, his family, he couldn’t lose you.

However, leaving with you also meant angering an already testy Queen. Cersei had turned vile with her new found power; her heart tormented by the same loss that plagued Jaime himself. Whatever path he chose lead to danger; but whatever path he chose also shone with the hope of possible love.

a part two maybe???

I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun

@hedaoftheskaikru asked “Can you write a Bellarke pride and prejudice au? Or just a general regency au?” and I certainly tried. Hope you like it!


Bellamy isn’t sure how he ended up married to the daughter of a Lord– or more accurately, how the daughter of a Lord ended up married to him. He’s had some time (a few months, at most) to adjust to the fact that Lord Marcus has taken a special interest in passing on his title to Bellamy. He’s had less time (not even a day, to be exact) to accept the fact that he has a new wife, and that the Lady in question is displeased with the arrangement.

He can’t blame her much. Surely she had in mind marrying someone with the right kind of manners, the right kind of connections, the right kind of parentage. But his actual parentage– mother dead and father unknown– is what put him in this position, so perhaps he had the right kind after all.

Lady Clarke is everything he expected she would be: lovely and proper, her spine ramrod-straight, her chin high enough he feels like she’s looking down on him, no matter how much shorter she may be.

She also has a sharp glint in her eye and shoulders drawn back the way he’s seen his fellow soldiers posture themselves, readying for a fight. These, he didn’t expect. He finds he doesn’t quite know what to make of them.

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Unknown King

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Great Gatsby AU (sort of)

Summary: We’re readying GG right now in my American lit. class and let me tell yOU, this book is so beautifully written that I  could cry. It does not take place in the Roaring Twenties because I just didn’t want it to be that way. If you want to be added to the tag list tell me (THiS is A SERIES)

Word count: 1.2k+


Before you left home, your mother made sure that you knew the procedure when meeting someone new. “Be nice and never left them know you hate them if you do,” She had said. “But more importantly, try to fit in.” You had moved to New York, still living in a dream. You got a job as a journalist and hoped to become an author one day. Though you hadn’t even begun writing your book, you decided a new location would inspire you.

So you left your small town home to the Big Apple. You had enough money to get you through five months of necessities and hoped your journalist job at The Report would do you justice. You really didn’t know that your home was in the middle of one of the most wealthy parts of town. It was the cheapest home up for sale and now you knew why. There were photos but those must’ve been taken years ago. The paint job looked sloppy and it looked like your home would fall apart any second. The garden did, however, make up for it.

Your gaze moved to your neighbor’s home. Though it didn’t look like a home, more like a palace. It was grand and made your abode look like a shack where they kept the gardening tools. If people passed by, they would possibly gawk at the castle instead of your eyesore. You rolled up your sleeves and began to unpack. Not a moment to lose, this was gonna be a long day ahead of you.

“Hey, Rookie,” A girl sauntered towards your way and leaned against your desk. “How’s the day treating ya?”

You shrugged, “Better than I expected, to be honest. This is my first time in a big city. I’m glad I didn’t get lost.”

She shrugged, her blonde fringe sweeping to the side, “You’ll get used to it. In about a week, you’ll know how the ropes work. What about your neighborhood? Not all these streets are rainbows and lollipops.”

“Actually, I only have one neighbor. The next house is about a half a mile down the road.”

“Wait, you don’t mean,” She paused. “You bought that house next to Barnes’ place didn’t you?”

“Barnes?” You asked.

“He has a really big house, almost looks like a castle,” She quickly explained.

“Yeah,” You replied. “Huh, I didn’t think anyone lived there. No one ever comes out.”

“Trust me, hun, you’ll regret ever choosing to live there by the end of the week.” She smirked.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“Oh, you’ll know,” She smiled and began walking away. “The name’s Emma by the way.”

“Y/N,” You called back, but she was already rounding the corner.

When you got home, you stopped under the large willow tree that cast its shadow across your cottage. Your gaze moved to the mansion that loomed over you. It looked empty, dark. Still like the night, with no signs of life. The movement of a curtain made your eyes snap to the window the faced you. If someone was watching you, they were gone by now.

You heard some rumors about your neighbor. Though you only knew his last name and you weren’t entirely sure the gossip was true. The things they said were just bizarre. It seems like no one truly knows him. He’s seen as this grand person that captivates people’s attention, yet no one knows who he is. He’s a ghost.

I heard that he’s associated with a mafia. Which is why he’s so wealthy.” A girl by the name of Maria had told you during your lunch break. She leaned on her hand in a very relaxed kind of way.

“Mumbo, jumbo,” Eric spun around, stirring his coffee with a spoon. “He surely won the lottery.”

“As if! Robin told me that he killed his family in order to get the insurance money. Which is why now he’s mafia. Makes sense,” Maria shot back.

“Is this all true?” You had asked, completely bewildered by their statements.

“I do believe he’s in a mafia. He scares me,” Maria shuddered.

“You’ve never even met the man,” Eric continued.

Maria shrugged, “I heard what I heard and that’s final.”

And just like that, the topic of Barnes was finished by those single words. Leaving you as confused as ever.

You walked into your home, lighting up the place with a few bulbs that you had to buy. The music of crickets danced through the cool night air. Your eyes were weary with sleep and you soon found yourself collapsing onto your mattress, falling into a deep sleep.

Friday morning, you walked out onto your porch. You carried your only house plant and didn’t want it to die so you were striving to keep it alive and well. The noise coming from your neighbor’s house made you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head in that direction. Dozens of servants were going in and out of the home. Carrying plates of food, various bottles of alcoholic beverages, ice sculptures and other countless things that only seemed fit at a royal ball. Gardeners trimmed the hedges and cut the grass, tended to the luscious garden with the grand fountain in the middle of it.

You found yourself gawking at all the work they were getting done. The sound of the pot steaming made you rush inside to shut off the stove. The water was had nearly evaporated. You frowned and filled the pot with water before putting it on the stove once again. A knock at your door made your head perk up. You haven’t had visitors since you moved here. You went towards your door and was met with one of your neighbor’s servants. He wore a dark blue suit. His head held high with a letter cradled in his hands.

You opened the door, “Hello, can I help you with something?”

“Mr. Barnes would like to invite you to his party, later on, today,” He handed you the letter. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left you on your porch. Completely bewildered.

You tore the letter open. The fine, black ink stood out on the creme colored stationary. It read:

I would be honored to have you over as my guest at my small party in the evening. I understand that you’re my new neighbor and would like to welcome you with open arms. The party begins after eight o’ clock.

Signed, Barnes

You weren’t one for parties, so instead you shrugged your shoulders and set aside the letter. Not giving it a second thought for the rest of the day.

That night, after eight o’ clock, cars and limousines flooded the driveway if Barnes’ palace. Men and women drove from all across the city to this party to kill the night. Music erupted from the windows of the house and flooded into yours. You could almost hear the joy coming from the people’s tongues. You finally understood why Emma had told you you’d regret buying the place, but truthfully, you didn’t regret a thing.

The party didn’t end until the ungodly hours struck the clock. Little by little the people left the party. They were laughing as they crawled into the backseat while their chauffeur held the doors open for the drunken folks. The wealthy all seemed satisfied after having a party of money. Once they all disappeared into the night, the mansion was left alone and dark once again as it was earlier before, leaving the servants to clean up the mess the next morning.

Tags: @i-want-to-fuck-that-dorito-man @jade-cheshire@caitsymichelle13@brooklynnewsie1899 @shamvictoria11@nebulaeofpie @fave-fan-fic @avengerswitch@barnes-and-noble-girl@5-seconds-of-sebastian-stan @sheerio-styles@fearthedietcoke@lost-to-my-mind @buckys-other-punk @secrets-rain@theriumking@faithful-music @myhighanddry-blog@amrita31199@nadialinett14@heismyhunter@marvelgoateecollection@imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes@heyitsannexcx @crazy-attack@akaganhan @star-arm-and-shield @sebstan01@kcsavege4134 @t0ny-st4nk@virtualenemygalaxy@blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme@seargantbcky @heytherepartner@falling-buxky@aweways@elisaramirez14 @xxhushaaxx @bucknastywinterbear @bucky–b4rnes@oopsmybagofplums @crazychick010 @rapunzxl @fangirl1029@apeshit1x @shannonfayee @sammiplier1 @slut-for-barnes@brooklhyn @multiple-fandomimagines@ailynalonso15@annehansen1012 @winter-in-wakanda @heaven-bound-angel@thesherlockblr @therealme13posts @im-a-wretched-human-being  @queenof-wakanda@njavezan

*Permanent tag list, if you want to be added or taken off please tell me. Also if you want to be added to the taglist of this story, also tell me

hey friends :)

I’m gonna be real honest with you here, it’s been a long time since I’ve worked on the fake bf fic and writing is hard and life is just overwhelming as hell these days, so if y’all wouldn’t mind giving me just a liiiiittle bit of validation that my writing hasn’t turned to complete crap?? that’d be super cool??? please & thank you, here is what I have of ch. 6, it’s not a lot but hopefully there’s gonna be more soon now that I have some kind of flow???? idk man I love you all thank you for being so ridiculously patient

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The Things She Carried

Part 7. In His Dreams

Dean x Reader

Masterpost with all the parts

Summary: Dean meets a huntress. Well, he would define her a robot. At least until he gets to know her…

Word Count: 1700+

Tags: @mrswhozeewhatsis @daydreamingintheimpala @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @spnfangirl1965 @aristtewinchesterholmes @maui137 @thisisthelilith @skymoonandstardust @apeshit7x @aiaranradnay @anokhi07 @tatortot2701 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt  @mangasia @sharkeeshark @electricbluecas @squirrellover1967 @kazchester-fanfiction @gabavaldman @riversong-sam @lavieenlex @mogaruke @zanthiasplace @holywaterbucketchallenge @soullessbabee @loricwizardbluetoastedcake @barneybrigade @extreme-supernatural-lover @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @iliketowrite02 @stormisamystery @itschelseabennett @samdean-67 @feelmyroarrrr @mrsbatesmotel53 @ronniesanter @spnfamilystuff @msimpala67 @redeyedvixen

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Shifted - Part 6, Chapter 5

Every Tuesday I’ll be posting a chapter from my brand new AU story. The premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?
Previous installments…

Part 6 - The Honeymoon

Lallybroch, Summer 1763

Chapter 5


“What is it, Jamie?”


Claire had finally come to bed. William had kept her long enough, wanting to share every last detail of the trip with his da. The people he’d met, the chores he’d done, the pheasants and rabbits he’d caught himself and roasted for supper. Claire’s heart had burst with love for her son, already showing the makings of a great man. Like his father.


Jamie had kissed her deeply when he returned, quickly whispering “I’ve something to discuss wi’ ye tonight” in her ear before seeing to the horses. And then supper, and then chores, and then she had spent time reconnecting with William while Jamie had spent time reconnecting with Brianna. It was past dark now, and she’d yet to have any kind of conversation with her husband.


Jamie turned back the quilt on Claire’s side of the bed and extended his arm towards her. “Come.”


Softly she padded over to him and eased beneath the sheets, nestling into his shoulder. He sighed contentedly and kissed her forehead.


“I’ve been looking forward to this ever since we rode out.”


“What? Sleeping in a real bed?”


He snorted. “Aye, that too. Grannie MacNab snores like the devil, I’ll tell ye. Good thing William sleeps like he’s been poleaxed, elsewise there’d be no way the puir lad could get any rest.”


He paused. “No, mo nighean donn – I’ve had almost nothing else on my mind except the desire to have ye back in my arms. To hold ye close. And speak wi’ ye of whatever’s on my mind.”


She nuzzled into his neck. “Mmphm. Flatterer.”


Gently Jamie laced the fingers of one hand through hers. His other hand played with her wedding ring. “I want to take ye on a wee trip, Claire.”


That surprised her. “Oh? To where?”


He shrugged. “It doesna matter. I only want to spend some days wi’ you – only you. Away from the bairns and the house, ken?”


“I ken,” she said softly.


“So. I was thinking on those three days we spent together after we wed – about how much we learned about each other. And how close I grew to ye during that time. Do you remember?”


Playfully she shoved his shoulder. “Idiot. Of course I remember.”


He smiled into her hair. “Weel. That was our – honeymoon, ken? So it’s high time we had a second one.”


She kissed his shoulder. “That’s a lovely idea. The children won’t mind – they’re old enough to get on without us.” She paused. “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever taken a trip away from them.”


“I dinna think we have. Murtagh can mind them – they’ll probably be excited to have us away.” Her free hand lay on top of his, and the fingers of their four hands tangled together, untangled, and traced to find each other again.


“When would you like to go?”


Jamie watched their hands make love to each other. “Tomorrow, or the day after next?”


She smiled. “Yes. Yes please.”


He bent to kiss her gently. “All right then. But I’ll ask one thing of ye while we’re away.”


She kissed him again. “What’s that?”


“Stay away from any stone circles, Sassenach. I mind what happened the last time ye took a second honeymoon.”


“Is this it, then?”


Jamie nudged the horse down the slope toward the empty cottage. “Aye, ‘tis. Did ye truly think I’d make ye sleep in the heather, or under a tree, Sassenach?”


She settled against him in the saddle. “Wouldn’t be the first time – though it has been quite a while since we’ve done that.”


“Aye, weel. The croft has been empty for some time now – the family emigrated to the New World a few years back. I’ve taken William here now and again, to show him how to mend a few things. That’s how I ken there’s a table, chairs, and bed inside.” Gently he lay a hand on her thigh, grinning. “All we need, I suppose.”


She could only smile back. “Indeed.”


Jamie eased the horse to a stop in the small dooryard. He slid off and helped Claire to the ground. “Shall I take our things inside, then?”


“Aye – I’ll hobble the wee beastie and be in straight away.”


Claire lay a hand on his forearm, and Jamie turned to meet her eyes. Quickly she kissed his cheek. “Hurry,” she whispered.


Jamie swallowed. Emotion surged within him – desire, want, need, love. Always love for this fine, rare woman.


“Get inside, Sassenach. I dinna plan to let you out until mid-day tomorrow at least.” She grinned, effortlessly undoing their bags from the horse’s back and slipping inside the croft.

Roots (Part Nine)

Originally posted by 7thvelvet

EXO Fanfic: Fantasy AU
Main Pairing: Female Reader x Byun Baekhyun (Light Fairy)

You are an Elven Outsider living in the Human World, living peacefully as a florist and gardener. But your peace shatters when you are discovered by a Representative from the Council of the Other World. Will he discover your secrets?

< Previous | Next >

You didn’t look at them as you walked though the the garden. You could sense their movements, sense their hesitation, their surprise. You tried not think about how much of yourself you were revealing right now. You subtly reached out a hand and let the plants that were whipping past your fast paced steps brush against your palm.

You took a deep breath, and steeled yourself, letting the power from the plants flow into you. You felt the garden respond to you, and you felt your powers growing as you readied yourself.

All you are doing is asking, you thought, just asking…

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Harry Styles - Rich Girl Imagine

[Thank you to you and your friend! Enjoy and I AM SO SORRY IT’S BEEN LIKE A YEAR. I’M A FAILURE!]

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"mr. scamander” || newt scamander

word count: 3309 (pfft it’s not long at all)

summary: newt scamander x slytherin!reader

author’s note: there are parts of this that seem to reference other harry potter things because i couldn’t help myself. this is my first imagine, please be nice… thank you, enjoy. (sorry for any spelling or grammar errors)

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‘River on the Rise’ by Debra Blake for Vegetarian Times, March 1988 (Part II, final)

How the family took their vision to Hollywood dates back 10 years ago, to their final days in Venezuela. The family had little money when they left the religious community and River, along with his sister Rainbow, often took to the streets, restaurants, and even airport waiting areas to sing to people, entertaining them while trying to earn a dollar. River had been playing guitar since before he was 5 years old, and his talent became increasingly apparent to Arlyn and John. Back in the States, the family headed straight for Los Angeles, where Arlyn took a job at a broadcasting company to get the family’s collective foot in Hollywood’s door.

“We weren’t going for the glamour or the fame of it all,” Arlyn says. “We were going to take the kids’ talent-which was so obvious-to us-and turn it into something and help make change at the same time. That’s why we went.”

Weren’t they afraid that the kids wouldn’t share their vision, or perhaps lose sight of it as the endless glittery parties began to welcome them, threatening to turn them into Hollywood brats?

“No,” says Arlyn. “I knew they wouldn’t get into the Hollywood scene. We had our own business to attend to, and it wasn’t Hollywood. It was making change in the world.”

River’s business is making change, too. He’s clear on that score. “If I didn’t think I could be a part of a movement that could influence,” he says, “and be a part of helping and change, if I couldn’t help that through what I’m doing, I wouldn’t do this. But I’m seeing that through this position-in this career, and where I have these magazine interviews- I can be an example, and I think that’s important. In all the interviews I do, I say something about my being vegan. I don’t want to come off as if I’m a savior. I’m only a very small part of anything, but I think it’s important to be involved. I’m interested in meditation and finding spiritual fulfillment. But for me to just go off and devote my life to monkhood in the jungle would be ultimately abandoning the world, and the consciousness would be on a selfish level. I think I can do a lot more good for this planet if I am out there.”

River is still young. Does he share his mother’s confidence that he’ll be able to withstand the pressures that Hollywood places on young people-pressures that make them grow up quickly, losing their dreams and ideals in the process?

“Being out there,” River says slowly, looking around at the giant oak trees on the lawn, “you can go astray, and everything can be destroyed. I’m aware of that, but I don’t think I’ll get into that. Maybe I’m lucky; I’m not really attracted to all of that now. I think I’ll be strong enough, but I do see there’s that chance.

"You can’t really make any plans about things like this, though. You go with the flow but still against the grain, not for the ego of it but for the belief of it. The only thing I have to show is how I live. The vegan thing is one of the main things. I’m a peaceful person; I think that’s manifested through how I live. I don’t start trouble. But time will tell.”

River has moved around a lot over the years. He was born in Oregon, went with the family to South America as a young child, and has lived in countless California towns. He’s traveled-sometimes with only part of the family-to different countries to film on location. Just before last Thanksgiving the whole family moved to Florida, where they now reside. They wanted to leave the Hollywood scene and revive ideals about living in the country.

Florida winter afternoons are warm, and River spends hours in the garage, hunched over his new 12-string guitar. His hands are square and strong, and after so many years they’re used to playing the chords that sound good to him. He has the guitar plugged into an amplifier, and the rock rhythms echo out in the yard. He’s not in school (he was privately tutored for most of his life), and he says he’s not interested in working until the summer. These days he’s mostly hanging around, traveling a bit, hoping a bass guitarist will read the signs he placed around the University of Florida campus. “Needed,” the signs read. “Bass guitarist with young blood who’s into progressive rock and roll, jazz. For demo recordings.” River is looking for a buddy to jam with.

If he didn’t have his acting career, River thinks he could be a musician. He’s driven to it. “I love music,” he says. “It’s so much a part of me.” The roster of his favorite musicians is long and eclectic; he’s especially into early Squeeze and U2. But the rest of his list reads like the playlist of an early ‘70s FM station. “I like jazz, folk music, Bob Dylan. Older Bowie and old Roxy Music to fall asleep to. I like old Steely Dan music and some Pink Floyd. Old Led Zeppelin, too. The Beatles are my Bible; that goes without saying. And I like classical music.”

Modern music disappoints River, and he doesn’t like much of what’s commercially produced. His tastes in books and movies also show that River has one foot in a different age. He sounds a little frustrated by that, and says things like “movies nowadays. ..books nowadays. .. music nowadays.”

He doesn’t see too many new movies, preferring witty, intelligent classic comedies, and he likes the great slapsticks. But his idealism comes through even here. “I haven’t seen Cry Freedom [about Steven Biko, a martyred black South African], but it’s top on my list for a real conscious movie. And I liked Brazil. I like intense movies. Did you ever see Brother Sun, Sister Moon? It’s about St. Francis. I felt a rebirth after I saw that.”

He doesn’t find much time for reading, though he’d like to, but somehow he’s picked up a lot of information on health and political issues. The novels he’s read, or would like to read, are those that kids grew up on 15 and 20 years ago: Catcher in the Rye and Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger, Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha, Richard Bach’s Illusions, Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

As for his own movies, he’s hot enough to be selective about the scripts he accepts, and he’s been pretty happy with the results. “I feel no need to invest in a movie unless I have an incredible passion for it,” he says. “And one that will not only be good for me but one I can be proud of-one that’s a benefit to society. I always hope the movie will, if nothing else, be a part of good art and influence people in a good way.”

Up to now, there’s been no compromising in River’s work, and he’s not planning on changing his record. Even as a child, no commercials he ever made endorsed white bread, and when he was in Seven Brides, the family made sure he wouldn’t have to go fishing or wear a coonskin cap.

River still chooses carefully, hoping the ideals he lives by will be reflected in the characters he plays. He liked his character of Chris Chambers in Stand by Me, directed by Rob Reiner. “Chris came off as a victim of the mentality of his town, but he was a good person. He was a great friend, he was loyal and he wasn’t an idiot-not just a big dumb l2-year-old. He was a real sweet guy, smart and intelligent. A good character.”

The last movie he worked on was Sidney Lumet’s Running on Empty. (Lumet directed Dustin Hoffman in the Academy Award-winner Tootsie.) River plays the son of parents whose antimilitary activities have kept them on the run for years. River likes the character but sees him as a victim, too.

“In dramas, kids usually are victims, either to their parents or to society:’ River explains. "I want to get away from that. It would be wonderful to see someone already in a clear-minded reality take it from there and maybe go beyond that, show what can happen.”

He can’t say precisely what kinds of films he’d like to do or what kind of work will draw him next. Theater would be interesting, perhaps, and possibly directing at some point. Unlike many actors, he’s not even thinking about who he’d like to work with. “I would like to work with Rob Reiner again,” he says, “Maybe just a cameo role in one of his movies. But for the most part I don’t think like that. I figure that time will tell, and if it’s right, I’ll meet the right people and work with them at some point.” Outwardly, River has few doubts about himself, as an individual and as a Phoenix family member. “I’m definitely an individual,” he said. “I feel very secure as an individual. And I’m proud of my family and what we’ve done together. I’m a product of my family, just like everybody else. These are my roots.

"I just want to live my life. Acting is what I love to do, and it’s worked out this way. I don’t know if it’s God’s perfect plan or whatever, but for me, not only do I love it and get great satisfaction out of it, but also I can work my beliefs in. I’m free to believe in what I do, and I can share those beliefs with others. Not in a preaching way, not telling others, but just by what I do. I find that very fulfilling.”

After lunch-tabouli, nori, blue corn chips, tofu omelet, tahini dressing-River and Rainbow, like older brother and sister in any family, take the family jeep to pick up the other kids from school. Back home, River runs into the yard to swing on the rope hung from one of the oaks. “Hey, look at this!” he yells. While Rainbow watches, River laughs, jumps high and grabs hold. 

A Phoenix on the rise.

The Name of the Rose

Breaking a long and awful writing drought with some… fairy courts? What?

For more loosely connected fic in this AU, check out The Crystal Court collection on AO3.

Summary: The Winter Queen has stripped her Court’s knight of her mantle, her title, and her name. A rogue agent of Spring decides to intervene yet again. Pearl/Rose, featuring such classics as tricky-to-navigate Fair Folk matters, precisely-worded eternally binding promises, true name magic… but mostly gratuitous hurt/comfort. ~2300 words

The Name of the Rose

The ever-green glades lining the outskirts of the Sanctuary of Spring were little more than a senseless blur around her as her would-be saviour rushed the two of them forward, but Pearl would have known the small offshoot of a bramble-hidden path anywhere. A last trifle of a gift, perhaps, that she would be allowed to return here, even for the smallest while, in her final moments.

She had displeased her one true liege and Queen, and now, favour lost, the mantle of the Winter Knight stripped from her, no ancient Court magic allowed to sustain her, she would die.

It was, of course, always going to happen. It was only ever a question of when. She was a toy at best, a tool at most, and her time in the Court of Spring had made the truth of her station much too clear.

A violent shiver tore through her, and Rose clutched her closer and ran faster in response. Her arms, where they met Pearl’s skin, were the one remaining point of warmth in the world.

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Bromeo & Dudeliet - Snippet #1

so, uh, this is a complete clusterfuck. It’s set in Verona when the original romeo and juliet was, but they talk like modern-day people. also the characters are wherever the fuck i want them to be. lmao i know barry’s supposed to be a Neverbone but idgaf.

based on @therubyjailcell​ ‘s excellent egobang romeo & juliet au.

for future reference: i’m only gonna be doing lil snippets here and there, probably not even in chronological order. this is just a silly thing i’m having waaaay too much fun with.



Of course, he’d heard of the Neverbone family before.

How could he not? They lived in the same fucking city, after all. Besides his family, they were the most prominent family in Verona. They were not only rich and affluent, they were also gigantic goddamn snobs.

To say the two families didn’t particularly get along would be an understatement. They despised each other. But that was to be expected.

Even Danny had to admit to himself that his family was a little…rambunctious. The Sexbang family, his relatives, had a long history of throwing wild parties, doing whatever they wanted, and generally always taking life one day at a time. They rarely married, instead preferring hook-ups and quick relationships. Danny liked to think his family just knew how to have a good time. It didn’t hurt that the Sexbangs had a long history of being extremely good-looking and, ahem, charismatic.

While he’d never met or even seen the main family from the Neverbone house, he’d crashed enough parties to mix with some of the outer family members. The Neverbones threw very “respectable” parties—more like formal dances than actual parties. It was a hobby of Danny and his cousins to crash said parties.

The Neverbones were high-and-mighty, too. They never had sex before marriage, did everything the “proper” way, and were sure to hold it above everyone’s heads. They did not mingle outside their social class and everything in that place was pristine and polished. They took being wealthy very seriously. They never swore, dressed properly to everything, and had a code of morals. Even Danny had to admit, though, they were respectable people and held fast to their beliefs. He just thought the whole thing was so boring.

Danny had always wondered about them, though. He was the son of the head of the Sexbang family, but since the families were always quarreling they’d never been invited to a Neverbone dance. Part of the reason he enjoyed crashing the dances was in hope that he’d spot the main family. Try as he might, he’d only ever seen the head the Neverbone family, but not his wife or siblings.

There was also a son of the Neverbone house, around Danny’s age, but the boy had never made an appearance. Danny had never seen him before and neither had anyone else. He was always in the innermost part of the main house, or so the rumor went. Danny was extremely curious about him. Was he bored all the time? Was he also a huge snob?

Danny found himself wondering about all this as his cousin, Barry, approached him from where he lounged under a tree. Barry was a little more reserved than the rest of the Sexbangs, preferring to watch rather than participate. He still knew how to have a good time, though.

“What are you doing here?” Barry asked, settling down beside Danny. “Weren’t you with that girl earlier?”

“Oh yeah. Rosaline, I think her name was,” Danny yawned, stretching. “Yup. She went home.”

Barry nodded. “Gotcha.”

The pair sat for a moment, enjoying the beautiful weather, before another pair of footsteps was heard and then Brian was grinning down at them.

Brian was another cousin of theirs, and he had a sadistic streak a mile long. His favorite activity was initiating conflict with the Neverbone family. “All in good fun,” Brian would claim, his eyes glittering mischievously.

“Hey, you shits,” Brian grinned. “Have you heard? The Neverbones are throwing a huge soiree tonight.”

“Again?” Danny asked, surprised. “They just had a dance last week. I would’ve thought they’d be too prim to throw another one so soon.”

“Yeah, they might be called partiers like those damn Sexbangs,” Brian cackled. “But this isn’t just any party. Rumor says he’s supposed to be there tonight. It’s his birthday.”

Barry sat up. “Who’s?”

Brian smirked. “The son of the head of the house. Arin Neverbone.”

Danny’s pulse quickened. “Really? He’ll actually be there?”

“So the rumor goes. I think it’s good information, though, because I confirmed the fact that it’s actually his birthday. What better birthday gift from the Sexbangs than to make his party a little more…interesting?”

Danny got to his feet, a grin already splitting across his face. “What kind of party is it?”

“The best kind. A masquerade ball.”

“So, there’ll be a few extra masks on the dance floor tonight.”

Brian smirked. “I’ve already got the costumes. How d’you feel about being a bard?”


A few hours later, Danny found himself decked out in a bright blue bard outfit with a red star on the front. His boots were white and his mask was blue. His curly hair had frizzed out, framing his face.

“We gotta tie this back,” Brian mumbled, yanking back Danny’s mane. “The hair’s a dead giveaway. You need your cape, too.”

A simple white cape that only went halfway down his back completed the outfit. Danny admired himself in a long mirror. You couldn’t even tell it was him.

“This is kind of dull for a costume, though,” Danny complained. “It needs some fluff and a bigger cape. Some more interesting shoes, too, and this costume could be more low-cut.”

“You forget we’re trying to sneak into a Neverbone party,” Brian grunted, putting on his ninja costume. “It has to look “modest and presentable” or those damn snobs will pick you out right away.”

Danny grunted in acknowledgement, smoothing out his costume. “I guess. I can’t wait to find Arin Neverbone. I’ve always wondered what kind of person he is.”

“He’s a Neverbone.” Brian shrugged. “He’s a snobby brat. My guess he’s a spoiled little boy that was waited on hand and foot. I’ll bet he doesn’t want to see common folk and that’s why he’s locked away all the damn time.”

“To be fair, he might just be following orders from his parents,” Barry put in, finishing slipping into his samurai costume. “They must be really strict.”

“Either way,” Danny replied, staring at his masked face, “he’ll be getting a few new party guests tonight.”

Brian let out a whooping laugh. “This’ll be the best goddamn birthday he’s ever had!”

Kenny Omega - All Hearts Return For The Holidays.

Kenny Omega - Who’s in the Christmas spirit? xD  Reader is a retired wrestler and her and Kenny spend their first Christmas together with their newborn son. Really fluffy.

- Warnings - Fluffffff

Word Count - 1,159 words.

Requested by: Anon.

A/N - If you’d like to be tagged in any future fics, feel free to message/ask us :)

Originally posted by balorsomega


You stretched your arms and rolled onto your side as the sharp crack of your back reverberated around your and Kenny’s shared room. The soft winter sun seeped through tiny cracks in the shutters- the light momentarily blinding your dazed irises. You lazily slumped your arm to grab your phone off the bedside table, only to realise how much time you’d actually spent under the warm sheets of your king sized bed… Then another thought crept over your mind; the sole fact that your barely one-month-old son, Brayden should have already woken you up by now with his never-ending pitiful wails. Hastily, you pulled on your pink, silk robe and scurried down the hallway to your son’s room; already in a pure state of panic - the mess of a person which instantly vanished as you stepped through the door. Warm tears seemed to well up in your eyes as your heart warmed seeing the far too familiar muscular build of you husband, rocking your newborn back and forth in his arms, in a successful attempt to comfort him. The rapid thumps echoing in your chest returned to their normal pace as you simply stood, staring at your perfect little family and only when you saw the small little reindeer hanging in the corner of Brayden’s room did you remember that it was in fact, Christmas Morning.

Your frame toppled to the side, consequently creating a small creak as you leant against the pristine white door frame. That feeling never quite goes away, the moment the love of your life looks you straight in the eyes; the exact moment butterflies take over your entire body, causing your knees to quake in complete adoration. And just hearing his voice after 2 months of him being on the road, well that was the star on top of the tree. “Merry Christmas baby.”

“Kenny, I thought you weren’t back ‘til later!?” You exclaimed, your bare feet stepping from the hard, cold wood to the plush carpet as you began walking towards your boys.

The mere sight of Kenny holding the tiny bundle of joy delicately in his arms made this Christmas all the more merrier, “Couldn’t miss this morning could I?” His raspy tone spoke above the light melody playing from the lion-themed mobile hanging above Brayden’s crib.

You wrapped both hands lovingly around Kenny’s arms, resting your forehead on his perfectly chiseled biceps. Looking down upon the ever-so-slightly blushed cheeks of your newborn along with the tight curls forming on their head, it seemed almost impossible to see this moment as anything less than perfect. Kenny was just such a natural with Brayden… ever since he was born he just seemed to have those fatherly instincts- it was just a shame Kenny had to miss a good portion of the first month doing his shows; even if he was kick-ass at doing them. It would be an understatement to say you didn’t miss Kenny like absolute crazy whilst he was away but the single fact that he was here with you on what was the most magical day of the year was more than enough for you. The tiny body of Brayden was cautiously handed to you, Kenny being 100% sure that you had hold of him before releasing his hands. 

With Brayden nuzzled closely to the crook of your neck and Kenny to your side, you made your way downstairs, eager to begin the day that holds no stress at all; something you were so used to in your previous hectic career. Reaching the living room, your mouth instantly fell agape as you saw the tree, literally bombarded with tons of wrapped presents, masses more than were there last night. “Kenny, did you actually get this many presents for us!? Are you serious!?” You shrieked seeing all the tiny boxes, tied with cutely coloured ribbon along with the huge tags with yours and your sons’ names on.

“No, question is; are you serious? Obviously, it was Santa Claus.” Kenny winked at you, simultaneously heading to the decked out tree, grasping onto two silver boxes. 

“Oh yeah, well who knew Santa had a six-pack.” You sat Brayden onto Kenny’s lap, picking up your present as you watched Kenny hand your son his. You weren’t the one to neatly fold away the wrapping paper; instead more of the ‘I’ll use my claws’ approach to be completely honest. For that reason, your gift seemed to be revealed in nothing but a matter of seconds. “Oh my god Kenny, you didn’t…” Anybody at this point would think he’d got you a ring, or some nice perfume you’d spotted on one of your recent shopping trips but no… Kenny being Kenny decided to get you an all-black onesie with the bullet club logo branded across the front.

“I did” He chuckled before turning to Brayden, playfully motioning his hands up and down as he had a gentle hold on your son’s dainty wrists. “Now let’s open yours shall we buddy, go ahead.”

It was unbearably adorable, witnessing your husband interact with the product of purely your love in this way. But jeez… the silence in the atmosphere at this moment was insanely thick. Both of you were sat staring at each other with entirely different expression etched upon your faces; his simply of delight, yours read pure confusion. “Hold up, did you really think our one-month-old son can open a present!? He can’t even control when he poops yet Kenny?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at you and moments later turn to a quiet Brayden. “Yes, nothing’s impossible. I mean if he’s my kid, he’s sure as hell gonna be able to do it.” He spoke, ruffling the small tufts of hair sprouting from your kids head.

What was he implying right now? “Kenny, are you seriously considering Brayden not being your child- look at him, he’s literally a miniature you.” You snarled, your eyebrows closely furrowed together.

“No don’t be stupid, I just thought it was worth a shot you know? Maybe he’s like secretly superman.” Kenny began to rip open the paper covering your baby’s gift, pulling out a much smaller version of the present in which you’d just received. 

“Jeez I love you so damn much Kenny, I don’t actually think you understand.” You leant over, pecking your lips upon his ever-so-slightly stubbled cheek, placing another delicately on the crown of your son’s head. Kenny wasn’t usually the one to go over the top on celebrating anything but you were damn sure, he was going to make his baby’s first Christmas one to remember, whether that means spending an overly large amount of his hard earned money spoiling the people he loved most. Not that you would be the one to complain anyway… He made sure to make it a certainty that this day would mark the end of one of the most momentous years with a day full of happiness, nothing short.

A/N - Kenny fic’s done, Sorry if this isn’t up to scratch with my other ones, I don’t really know what happened; I just don’t feel like this is my best work at all ;/ Well I hope it was alright Anon :)


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