silver for the silver of your hair

mortalmab  asked:

For real, you are the loveliest bearded lady (also lovely without the beard) that I have ever not-met. I adore your Dís costumes and especially the hair/beards you sport. 10/10 one of my favorite blogs

(2) Here’s an actual question (rather than just gushing praise): Why is your Dís dress blue and gold instead of blue and silver? I don’t have the appendices memorized so maybe I am just picking this up from the fandom, but I thought blue and silver were the Durin family colors?

I actually thought about blue and silver originally! But blue and gold had a better colour contrast with the outfit I designed, and part of cosplay is about slight exaggeration to make certain features or details stand out. Silver washed out my colours a bit too much, and when I was planning colour options digitally the overall effect seemed a bit morose. I wanted my Dís to look proud and confident instead, and for her to be her own character with her own style instead of having to match the men all the time. Gold added a splash of colour and had an easier regal effect.

Good question, thanks for asking! And also THANK YOU SO MUCH! *big dwarf hug*

I told you I spent an entire day drawing Silmarillion children! Here’s a bunch of dark-haired babies.

Silver Storm ( 1/?)

Summary: While on trip out of state, you were taken by Hydra. You were barely 21 at the time. Hydra took you and turned you into another asset, matching the Winter Soldier’s abilities. They injected you with a serum similar to his, wiped you,  and instructed the soldier himself to train you. He was hard on you, but when it was just the two of you he let his walls down. You were each other’s comfort, until the events of D.C when he was sent to kill Captain America. After that day, you never saw him again. You were told he abandoned you, that he was on the other side now. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, but what happens when he comes bursting through the doors of your facility?

Memories are in Italics, bold is readers thoughts *

Pairing: none so far, but Bucky x reader (eventually) , reader x avengers

Warnings: swearing, torture, violence, sadness

                                                     Chapter one

   Your life consists of three things now: killing, obeying, and training. When you don’t do one of those things, or when you show hesitation, your mind is wiped clean by your handlers. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been with Hydra. How could you? You’ve been wiped so many times you’re surprised you still know how to fight. Killing, Russian, and taking orders are now burned deeply into your system. Over the last few months, memories have been slipping through the cracks of your mind. You’ve  managed to hide your reaction when they appear, not wanting to lose them again from being wiped. With the memories though comes a sharp pain, as if they are forcing their way into your mind. They aren’t ever in order; you’ll remember things from when you were a child and were with your siblings, and the next minute you’ll be reminded of the parties you attended with friends in high school. Having your memories back isn’t all good though; it means your humanity is seeping back in play, making it that much harder when your superiors send you on a kill mission. Sometimes you consider asking to be wiped to make things easier since it doesn’t seem like you’ll ever be free again.  Since Winter escaped, the security around you has been tighter. Hydra is too afraid to lose another asset.

Today, a particular memory stands out to you: a memory of the Soldier.

Your body slammed to the ground, as your superiors watched their agents punish you for being hesitant on a training set. If it wasn’t for the super soldier serum swimming in your veins, you’d most likely be dead by now. No human body could or should endure this much pain. By the time they’d finished with you, you were in the fetal position. You could feel that your ribs were cracked, your nose was broken, your arm may have been broken, and your eye was beginning to swell shut. They left you there, laughing as they exited the room. You didn’t know how long it had been, but Winter finally made his way into the room. He gently lifted you into his arms, not saying a word.

Originally posted by ale-la-pazza1

You finally ended up in the cell where they kept the both of you. They forced you two to sleep on the concrete floor, supplying an itchy, thin blanket for each of you, and a bucket. Winter was in cryo more than you were, but when he wasn’t, you’d sleep curled into his body with his arms wrapping around you tightly.   

He laid you down over one of your spread out blankets. Whimpers left your lips at the hard ground underneath your broken body.

“Shhhhh, you’ll heal soon. Just give it a day or two, Doll.” He moved a piece of hair out of your face and left the room. He managed to come back with a makeshift icepack and towel to clean you up. He stayed with you for hours, trying to distract you from the pain, promising one day you would both be free.

   The memories of Winter always hurt you. Neither of you knew much about each other, just whatever he remembers (which wasn’t much). He repeated the name Steve a lot in his sleep, and he remembered that he fought in a war, but not which one or how old he was. He remembered falling off a train, and that’s how he lost his arm and gained his metal one. At night, when the nightmares of his memories from before Hydra and after hit him, you would pull him to you, trying to calm him. You never had memory slips when he was around; they didn’t start happening until after he left you.

  You request a training session from your superior. Maybe it’ll ease the pain of the memory away. He agrees, no questions asked. You make your way to the designated gym. It was small but held the proper equipment you need. You go straight for the punching bag. It takes a total of five punches before it flings off the chain and smacks into the wall. Anger is all you feel; the memory of the soldier just makes you feel alone, miserable, and hostile towards Hydra. Overtime you’ve realized Hydra isn’t who they claim to be while they tortured and morphed you into this soldier. They claim to be doing the world a favor, that they were the ‘good guys’. Maybe from their standpoint they are, but from yours? Hell no. You believed in freedom and justice before all this. Well at least you think you did, based on your memories. You still weren’t clear on who you were; you just knew names of people in your memories. The name they used when referring to you still felt odd to you. You only ever remember being called Silver Storm ,which, once you started being able to think for yourself again, sounded so fucking dumb. As you move to hang a new bag from the ceiling, the red alarm lights start blinking along with the shrill sound of the alarm. What the hell?

  Your handler burst into the training room. “Silver, the Avengers are breaching our system, suit up.”

At the sound of his voice, you snap into mission mode. You sprint to the gear room, pulling on your tactical black suit. It matches the one Winter use to wear, including the red star on the arm. You pull your hair into the standard braid you wear on missions, and place your mask over your mouth. As soon as you finish filling all your holsters with the proper guns and knives, you slip your comm into your ear.

“Silver Storm, ready to comply,” You announce coldly.

“The Avengers are infiltrating your home, soldier. Show them what they’re dealing with, take them all out.”

“Yes sir.”

You move swiftly through the halls, while you’re told of the Avengers locations through your comms. The closest one to you is Captain America who’s on the roof taking out agents.

“тут ничего не происходит (here goes nothing),” you mumble under your breath. You haven’t had to deal with the Avengers, so you’re not sure what to expect.

You slink your way up the stairs to the roof, readying your gun. You kick down the door, and immediately see your target. You take aim and begin shooting. He deflects the bullets with his shield, then throws it towards you. You tuck and roll, dodging his shield. Why the hell does he have a giant Frisbee?! You switch out your gun for another from one of you holsters. You take aim again, except before you shoot, your gun is shot out of your hand by an arrow. What the hell kinds of weapons do this people have? An arrow, really? You train your focus and leap straight towards Captain America. You start throwing punches, and he barely deflects them. You land four good hits to his abdomen. While he stumbles back, you whip yourself around and wrap your thighs around his neck. You take him down, cutting off his oxygen with the pressure from your thighs. You don’t hold him there long before he manages to flip you off him. You land on your back with a thud.

“Сукин сын (son of a bitch)!”

You pick yourself back up, only to be thrown backward again by him. You reach for your knives then whip them quickly at him. Two of them manage to stick, one in his shoulder and one grazing his side.

 It slows him down momentarily. You hear steps behind you, causing you to pull your gun and turn. You’re facing your superior. Oh Shit.

“I see you need help, Soldier. Your training will be changed accordingly after we finish this.” I can feel the pain already. The rest of the Avengers seem to appear out of thin air. You notice it’s not the entire team, only the Captain, Hawkeye, and Falcon. You begin shooting at the Falcon, successfully grounding him. Your superior seems to be in a hand to hand with the Captain, and the other agents are after Hawkeye. You have your target pinned to the ground wrapped between your thighs. As you begin applying more pressure around his neck, you hear a voice that wrecks your concentration.

Originally posted by lilsonbucky

“Steve, duck!” Winter? You watch as he throws the Frisbee to the Captain, aiding his fight against your superior.

Originally posted by readytocomply

“Well, Winter. Welcome home.”  You hear your handle say. In your moment of distraction, Falcon gets the upper hand, knocking you off him, and landing a hard punch to your stomach. You fumble back, mind still in overdrive at the fact he is here. He finally made it out of here, and he’s still fighting?   

You abandon Falcon as your target, letting the lower level agents go for him. You move to help against the Captain and Winter. A plan starts swirling around your mind. When you approach the three, you see your superior losing.

“Asset, finish them. Winter is against you now,” he says as he battles Captain America. You turn your gaze to the soldier. A look of recognition and sadness flashing through his eyes. You turn away, glancing back at your handler. The same handler that beat you, abused you, wiped your memory, forced you to kill, and took you away from your family. This is it. He gains the upper hand in his fight, and you pull out your last gun from it’s holster. You turn your gaze back to Winter for a second. If I fail, they will kill me. Is this worth it? Where would I go if I actually succeed? It’s now or never. You take the comm from your ear, smashing it under your boot. Then, before he can move from his spot on top of the man in red, white and blue, you spin yourself over, taking aim and shooting your superior in the back of his head. His body falls limp over the captain.

There is no going back now.

Originally posted by geekcomics

how many years have I lost to naruto- watching, reading, fanarts, fanfictions, headcanons, creating self-insert ocs- how many?

Being an X-Men, and dating Peter Maximoff would include…


  • Having the power to slow down time for short bursts of time, which is both helpful and ironic
  • So whenever you need to find Peter while he’s doing that thing where he never stop running, all you have to do is slow down time in the room he’s in, walk over to him, and whack him over the head
  • “Ow, ow, that’s no fair!”
    “Peter, we’ve gone through this before. You can’t use your powers while we’re playing tag. It’s already bad enough that Kurt got lost trying to teleport to you. Poor guy’s probably stuck in the fridge again.”
  • Being assigned as his caretaker, since after he broke his leg during the battle with Apocalypse, the only person he’s wanted to take care of him was you
  • “Can I have some of that soup you always make?”
  • But naurally, the only thing he wants to do is cuddle in bed
  • He’s somewhat more affectionate with a broken leg, strangely
  • “Peter, I’ve got to go train with the team, or I’m going to be late. Again.”
  • The team not knowing what to think about your relationship- Sure, the two of you dominate the mansion as the power OTP, but you sure have a strange way of showing it
  • Because sometimes you’ll be at full-fledged war over who ate the last brownie from the fridge
  • “You know I wanted the last one!”
    “Yeah, well, you should’ve thought of that before I ate it.”
  • And then two minutes later, you’ll be making out on the kitchen counter (Much to the dismay of everybody else)
  • “Guys, ew, please. We eat on that table.”
  • In fact, every argument the two of you have always ends with you making out on the nearest possible surface
  • “Please, for the love of god and Kurt’s innocence; get a room!”
  • Him using his speed to piss you off
  • Sometimes he’ll steal your chips while you’re watching Netflix
  • “Damn it, Peter!”
  • Other times he’ll take selfies on your phone whenever you’re hanging out with Jean
  • “Are you kidding me?”
  • He even steals kisses from you every now and then
  • Being unbelievably jealous of his silver hair- like, come on. No matter how many boxes of dye you used, you coud never achieve the perfect silver colour that is his hair
  • ‘Forget about super speed, Pete. I want your hair colour. Is it natural? Do you secretly dye it every week?”
    “Y/n, are you only dating me because of my hair colour?”
    “No, of course not. Your metallic jacket is pretty cool too.”
  • Actually, while we’re on the topic of his jacket, the kids in the X-Mansion will see you all snuggled up in it
  • Of course, Peter usually doesn’t have a clue that you’ve stolen his signature jacket, and’ll have to spend the entire afternoon running around the place, looking for his jacket
  • Having adorable couple nicknames for each other like ‘Satan’, ‘Speedy Little Shit’, and ‘Dumbass’
  • “Hey, Peter Piper, pass the remote.”`

@old-long-john: “If you’re still taking Black Sails art requests, could I ask for anything that’s something of an ode to Silver’s glorious hair? Just wild curls in absolutely any context would be amazing. Your art is so beautiful! :)”

I kinda lost sight of your request while drawing and this became more of an ode to Silver in general and his adorable fucking face. I hope that’s okay with you. I’ll try to keep ‘wild curls’ in mind for the next Silver/Flint piece I intend on drawing. I’m going to take a little break from art and Tumblr now because I’m getting a bit too obsessive here and I my real-world responsibilities are waiting for me :’D


Potion to Acquire a New Residence

Requested by @markandreid-trash

This potion-ritual can be used when working to acquire a new home or residence. Do not ingest. Keep the potion requests coming! This is a lot of fun for me! If you’ve already submitted a request, worry not! I will get to them all!

Supplies Needed:

-          Boling crucible

-          Glass vial

-          Small mojo bag

-          Fireproof dish (optional)

-          Sieve

Ingredients Needed:

-          A pint of water

-          A pinch of salt

-          A small stone from the desired dwelling

-          A teaspoon of dirt from the dwelling

-          An old key that has touched the lock of the dwelling.  

-          A jade leaf

-          A grain of rice for each housemate

-          A silver coin

-          A feather from a bird of flight

-          A personal item for each housemate (lock of hair, fingernail, drop of blood, or saliva)


1.       Bring the water to a boil.

2.       Contribute the salt.

3.       Add the stone from your desired dwelling.

4.       Add the dirt from the dwelling.

5.       Add the key

6.       Contribute the jade leaf.

7.       Add the silver coin.

8.       Contribute the rice.

9.       Add the feather.

10.     Last, add the personal item of each housemate.

Allow the brew to boil and bubble while concentrating on your goal. When the concentration can no longer be held in the mind’s eye, remove the brew from the fire and allow it to cool. Once cool, filter the liquid through the sieve into the vial and remove the stone, coin, and key and secure them in the mojo bag. Take the vial to the dwelling and use the potion to anoint the threshold. Leave behind the mojo bag with the stone, coin and key, taking care to hide it somewhere out of sight and out of mind. Turn away and do not look back.

If you are moving out of state and visiting the dwelling to carry out this potion-ritual isn’t possible, this working can still be carried out with ease. Write the address of the desired dwelling on a slip of paper and burn it. Contribute the ashes to the brew, saving a bit to rub into the key and the stone. A small portion of ashes can be mixed into a measure of dirt from any location and this used in place of dirt from your desired dwelling.


The symbolism of the above mentioned potion ingredients are pretty obvious. First, the salt is a symbol of the earth which is manifestation and the ground on which we build our shelters. The key, dirt, and stone are all links to the home that is sought. The jade leaf is a common plant that is often kept in the home to encourage luck. A silver coin is added to ensure financial requirements for the home are satisfied. The grains of rice are added to keep each housemate from going hungry and the personal items are added to tie the home to those that seek it.

Things That Remind Me of the Signs

Aries: Clenched fists, speaking to a crowd of people, slow smiles and laughing until you can’t breathe, taking risks and jumping off cliffs

Taurus: Seeing your ex with someone else and missing them, flower crowns and floral aesthetics, prolonged eye contact, pridefulness

Gemini: Putting in a contact lense, sudoku puzzles, scenic photography, late night giggles on the phone with your lover

Cancer: Fluffy towels, warm hugs, chandeliers, blushing

Leo: Hairspray, glossy lips, standing up for your friends, looking at a person and thinking you’d want to marry them

Virgo: Tall, old-fashioned buildings, suits and ties, shy smiles, planting a seed and watching it grow

Libra: fancy jewelry, red wine, inspirational quotes, sitting in your pajamas and laughing with your friends

Scorpio: Black leather jackets, keeping secrets, movies, toothy grins

Sagittarius: Dying your hair a different color, messy handwriting, chalkboards, learning something new

Capricorn: Thin, silver jewelry, black sharpie, all caps handwriting, forehead wrinkles

Aquarius: Washing shampoo out of your hair, typewriters, steaming black coffee, dimples

Pisces: Comfortable hoodies, colored pencils, sunsets, long bubble baths

light in the dark

Originally posted by jeonify

◇ Your sister is the light in the darkness of this world - but what happens when her safety is threatened?

◇ Jungkook x reader

◇ werewolfapocalypse!au

◇ requested by @zhang91yixing; Hey, can I please have a werewolf apocalypse AU with jungkook? Where you’re living with your sister in this town close to the forest and your sister gets kidnapped by this gang and you have to go get her and you clearly got very very good survival skills, so while you venture into the forest to get to her (of course with weapons) you meet jungkook and his pack and *boom* he is your mate but you don’t know it, and u can pick it from there, thank you

◇ sorry this took a while but enjoy! Also im really sorry that i didnt stick with the whole ‘hes ur mate but u dont know’ but it was getting really long (for me lol bc my writing is short as hell) also crappy ending but I’m lowkey proud of the start and middle so


Sometimes you wondered if life was worth living.

In a world where humans were the bottom of the food chain, a world where Alphas reigned and Betas weren’t far behind, you found yourself wishing and praying each day for things to get better.

But there was always light in the darkness, and your candle burned brighter than most.

Your little sister Seyeon was 8 years old. She was small, and beautiful, and she had the most innocent, hopeful view of the world. And although you knew you’d have to teach her the ways of the world someday, you desperately wanted to cling on to the purity thay she still possessed. >

For her, there was no food chain. No inequality. No hurt, no struggle for survival. She understood that times were tough, but she always looked on the bright side; we have food, we have water. We’re not hurt.

She wasn’t old enough to remember what happened just years ago, and she definitely wasn’t old enough to understand how the world really worked.

Werewolves had always existed in the shadows of the humans - for years and years, centuries and centuries upon more centuries, werewolves lived just as humans did, fearing that their identities would be revealed and they’d ultimately be killed.

But soon, enough was enough, and the werewolves revolted with such strength that the humans were easily overpowered. Long before you were born, in the times of your great grandparents, the werewolves overthrew the governments of the world in a war that lasted for 6 years - and then they ruled the world, keeping the population of humans below them and submissive.

From then on, everything was chaos.

The werewolves formed packs and gangs, and reigned control over every town and city there was. Electricity was sparse in rural, human dominated areas after the war - the fighting had destroyed almost everything, including generators, and when they were rebuilt and reconnected, the werewolves didn’t care if you wanted electricity or not. You were humans, after all.

Electricity and fancy, modern cars were only owned by the extremely rich in the cities miles and miles away from here - and you weren’t rich, or living in the city -, so the main source of transportation was either walking or an absolutely ancient pickup truck that broke down every few miles or so.

And family? Well, Seyeon was your only real family. You had no grandparents, no cousins or aunts or uncles. Your dad died shortly before Seyeon was born, and your mother followed shortly after as a result of the medicine that wasn’t easily accessible for humans.

After your parents died you were left to care for a newborn baby at 10 years old - well, with the help of Nancy, the old lady that lived near you. She wasn’t biological family, but she was the closest thing you had to a mother. She taught you how to cook, clean, sew, fight, what plants were edible in the forest, the best spots for clean water, medicines… She was your teacher, and you were her student - but there was one thing she couldn’t teach you, and that was to control your temper.

The ruckus they caused in the middle of the day was unbelievable. They, referring to the young werewolves whose pack ran the area in which you lived in - a tiny, quaint town on the edge of the forest. These boys in particular had formed their own little ‘gang’, and spent their days terrorising the humans that inhabited the run-down town when they were bored.

As if your lives weren’t horrible as it was, you had a group of testosterone fueled hoodlums causing trouble when it was only high noon, in the middle of summer. The sun was hot and cast a heavy, draining weight upon your shoulders, despite the fact that you were inside the small shack you called home.

Their shouts and hollers radiate through the humid air, stirring you from the heat induced sleep that had settled over your body, an eye opening gingerly. What the..?

Realisation floods through you a few seconds later as your mind boots up, and you spot them, all hooting and shoving as they come towards your house from the small wooden porch that you had been sleeping on.

If you were lucky, they’d pass right by you into the woods that were to the right of your house to get back to their pack house. If you weren’t lucky, well…

You watch with eagle-like eyes as they approach, consciously keeping Seyeon’s figure in the corner of your eyes. She had been playing with the rag doll you had made her years ago for her birthday on the steps in front of you, but now she’s holding it close and sitting rigidly, eyes trained below her. She’s trying to ignore them, but you can tell she’s scared.

They soon become aware of your presence, as if they hadn’t sensed you earlier - first, one at the back lets out a long, sarcastic whistle, tapping his friend in front of him and gesturing to you and Seyeon with a movement of his head - and then, they all gradually stop in their tracks, coming closer to the porch. Your hand twitches instinctively, your silver hunting knife just inches away.

“What have we here?” The one who coos sarcastically is familiar. You always see him leading the others around, telling them what to do, who to hit, what to destroy. He’s taller and broader than the rest, too, and by now you’ve guessed that he’s the alphas son. He stops directly in front of Seyeon, and your fingers have fully wrapped around the leather bound handle of your knife.

“That’s a nice doll you have there,” he comments. Seyeon doesn’t say anything, her eyes cast to the dusty ground. You can see from here how her fingers clench and unclench around the thinning fabric of the doll’s stomach nervously.

“You know,” he begins, a sly grin growing on his face as he turns to face his friends who stand and wait a few metres behind him. Your unease grows, especially as he lazily looks over at you - as if he thinks you don’t matter, as if you’re worthless and weak and can’t stop anything from happening. “I think my sister would like it.”

Your jaw clenches, and you restrain every muscle in your body from making you jump out of your chair and slash his face. You continue watching.

The man chuckles, as if hearing your little sister’s heart rate accelerate was funny to him, and Seyeon lets out a distressed yelp as her doll is yanked out of her dainty hands - and that’s it, the last straw has been pulled.

You’re up from your seat before anyone can register it and down the creaky wooden porch steps like a shot, silver knife twisting expertly in your raising hand - and in the blink of an eye, you bring your hand down with force, cutting into the man’s cheek with ease.

A howl of pain and a chorus of enraged shouts are the only things you can hear; suddenly everybody is crowding around you, grabbing at you, pulling and shoving at you—


Somebody is yelling, someone’s grabbed your hair, another hand is grasping your arm roughly, and you’re grunting as you stab at any expanse of flesh you can see — and for a second, all hope seems to be lost. The silver didn’t seem to be doing anything.

Your temper really did get the best of you, you think for a moment — but through the chaos you can hear Seyeon calling your name desperately, tears caught in her throat as she watches helplessly, and suddenly you can feel your knife, still hard and cool in your hand and you find the strength within you to continue to slash and swing and draw blood.

After biting somebody’s arm and elbowing another’s stomach, you shove through the crowd minutes later, stumbling slightly in front of your sister like a shield before turning to them, baring your knife threateningly as they hiss and growl, making threatening, jerky movements towards you — their eyes are trained on the silver knife warily, wounds burning and sizzling like a painful reminder.

The leader lets out a low growl one last time, before he backs away, slowly yet surely, eyes flashing a bright, angry yellow when his travel to meet your own. The rest of his group trail after him, growling and shooting you sharp, dangerous glares as they leave, disappearing behind the thick tree line and leaving you in the eery silence of the moment.

“_____!” Seyeon’s voice is thick with tears, and the anger bubbling up in your stomach completely calms as she winds her small arms around your waist, burying her face into her stomach. “I-I was so scared — I was gunna help b-but you always tell me to stay out of things-”

“It’s okay, Seyeonnie,” you murmur. Your breathing is heavy, and the regret once you realise the consequences of your actions will most likely be severe shoots throughout your body like limb-weakening electricity.

However, you can never let Seyeon know that, so you force yourself to plaster a soft smile on your face, to bend down and pluck Seyeon’s doll from the ground. A hand hangs limply from a thread at its side.

“Ah,” you grumble, holding the doll gently. Seyeon looks up at you with big, watery eyes, and you sigh, petting her head gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll fix her up in no time, Seyeonnie. Promise.”

You give her another truthful smile, leading her back into the safety of your small shack.


Over the next few days, you were glad to say that thwre were no more run-ins with the gang of werewolves — but honestly, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

You’ve been trying to get on with your life, doing all the normal tasks you’d usually do; fetching water in the nearby creek, venturing into the forest to hunt for rabbits or dear, or to gather berries and roots — but you couldn’t deny that you were on edge. Every rustling of grass, every crunch of dry leaves behind you made you inch for your hunting knife.

Nancy scolded you. A lot.

“Ye can’t keep gettin’ angry at them!” She had given out, directly condradicting her anger when she sets a plate of stew in front of you, before she bustles away to the table in the living room to give Seyeon some food. “Yer in trouble now, ye are.”

You had sighed, pushing the food around on the plate. You didn’t feel very hungry. “I know, Nancy. But they were gonna take her doll, an-”

“The doll is less important than yer life!” Nancy hissed, lowering her voice and shooting a glance to where Seyeon was sitting, kicking her feet back and forth and wolfing down her food. “Things are gonna get messy now, girl, they will.”

“I know,” you had murmured, jaw clenching. You set down the silver spoon in your hand, thinking deeply about what you were about to propose. Your head instinctively drifts to Seyeon, who seems to feel your eyes on her and smiles toothily at you. A small, tired smile, and then an exhalation falls passed your lips.

“Nancy,” you begin quietly, pulling her to the furthest corner of the kitchen (just in case). You feel a weight press onto your shoulders, making you want to collapse onto the ground and just sleep for the next hundred years. “I just- If - if something happens—”

Nancy smiles grimly - and you must be imagining it, but her eyes look glassier than usual. “I’ll look after her, child.”

Tears well up in your eyes, the familar burning feeling translating from behind your eyelids to the hard lump in your throat. But you clear your throat, blinking a few thousand times to make the tears disappear and squaring your shoulders again after a few deep, yet quiet, breaths. You had been strong all your life. You weren’t going to break now.

A sigh falls passed your lips. Your fingers were absentmindedly manoeuvring your needle and thread expertly, as if it was as simple as breathing - which, by now, it was. God knows how many times you’ve had to sew up Seyeon’s clothes when she got too rough playing with the other children (the grass stains never came out, but you figured they added charm).

The little girl in question is snoring away quietly across the room, laying comfortably on the mat that you had made years ago from fur and stuffed with dried grass. Just looking at her makes a fond smile push its way to the surface of your face, imagining her expression when she wakes up and finds her doll safe and sound, back to normal and just like it was before the incident.

But then your mind begins to wander, and your mood drops like wax from a burning candle.

You were sure that someone, somewhere, didn’t hate you. Maybe - maybe a child? A baby that hadn’t been influenced by their parents, that hadn’t been influenced to hate you purely because you were human?

The innocent, naive part of you that had been pushed to the very corner of your heart still thinks that maybe things could change. That maybe, one day, the discrimination and racism will come to an end and everyone can live equal, happy lives. Maybe you and Seyeon could move to the city with Nancy and buy one of those fancy cars you had heard about - maybe you’d meet someone and fall in love, just like in the stories your mother used to tell you when you were young…

Your eyes droop tiredly, your mouth open in a small circle and the needle, thread and doll slipping from your grasp as you fall into dreamland.


You wake with a jolt in the early hours of the morning, your surroundings covered in a blanket of darkness. Your arms and legs are stiff from sleeping on the wooden chair and covered with goosebumps from the chilly coldness of your home, and with a confused furrow of your brows, you realise that the window behind you was open.

You groan tiredly, almost tripping over the doll that you had abandoned last night on the ground as you stumble to shut the window. No wonder you had woken up, the window was so far open that it almost touched the outside of your home.

Seyeon must’ve opened it, you think, stretching your arms above your head as you clamber to the warm mat where your sister was sleeping, prepared to drop down and pass out immediately. She always got very warm easily, so she probably woke up and-

Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop once you realise that you’re looking at an empty bed.


The fur covers are thrown to the end of the mat, strewn haphazardly and laying messily across the floor. There’s no sign of her - you call frantically, adrenaline pumping through your veins, your limbs feeling almost weak with worry and anger (at the werewolves who so obviously took her or yourself, you don’t know) and your chest constricted by the invisible snake that was anxiety.

Hands clutching at your head, you collapse onto the chair you had fallen asleep on, pure panic and disbelief fumbling with your thoughts and refusing to let you think straight.

They came through you window - that much was obvious. They lived in the woods that were literally less than a metre from your home, and that window was laughably weak in comparison to the strength werewolves possessed. But despite that fact that you had just reminded yourself of, staying here wasn’t an option. You had to get to them before they hurt Seyeon, no matter the outcome.

And so, you pack. An old leather bag that used to be your father’s is filled with the scarce medical supplies that you have - bandages, Nancy’s famous herbal salve, an antiseptic that was extremely rare around these parts and was one of your mother’s prized possessions. You make sure to slip in a pouch of water and some dried meat, just in case.

(Your hand hesitantly hovers over Seyeons doll that isn’t quite fixed yet, before you place it carefully on top of the rest of the supplies in your bag.)

Your hunting knife along with the various other silver knives you owned were slid into the leather holster on your pants, and a quiver full of your favorite silver-tipped arrows and your bow is slung onto your back.

You know how to track, and you know how to hunt. The problem is speed; they have at least half an hour on you, and that’s a lot for werewolves. So you waste no time; you don’t even have the time to write Nancy a note, because after you’re completely packed you stride out of your front door and sprint into the forest behind your small shack.


You don’t know how long you’ve been travelling; the sky has transitioned to a dusky pink, the sun rising over the mountains that were far east, visible from the tree you had climbed. You scoped your surroundings, taking in the almost eery quietness that came with the morning in the forest.

You had crossed over the creek you normally fetched water from, passed the bushes that beared the berries you picked, and ventured into the unknown that lay behind the patch of plants that Nancy used to make her herbal salve. The trees had grown thicker and thicker, all traces of intelligent life gradually dissipating into thin air.

But still, you continued on. It was cold and your jacket was thing and it’s main purpose was to hold your hunting knife so that it was easily accessible - but you had fire and fury in equal measure, and that fueled you to keep striding on, even when it seemed like you were getting nowhere.

After stopping to have a quick mouthful of water and a piece of dried meat, you had climbed the tree to get a complete grasp of your surroundings. If needed, there were many escape routes and obstacles - you had a gut feeling that you were drawing closer to Seyeon and the tyrants that had kidnapped her, whether it was from the footprints that were pressed into the earth or the strange atmosphere that surrounded the area.

You hop down from the last branch, feet hitting the ground with a solid thump - and that’s when you notice him, because your sudden movement had startled him into jumping back from your belongings.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You growl, eyes trailing over to scope his behaviour. Your hunting knife is already out, the silver threateningly held out towards the boy - man - standing as still as stone in front of you. In your rush of adrenaline fueled anger, you don’t even think to ponder on if he’s human or a werewolf, and you can only imagine the trouble that you’d be in if he turned out to be a werewolf—

The man draws back from your belongings, lifting his hands up in surrender at the sight of the glimmering silver being pointed at him. A werewolf, then. You hope he doesn’t sense the shift in your bravery, the reluctance to fight him setting in. Nevertheless, you inch towards your bags more and more wih every passing minute — until, finally, he’s pressed himself against a tree more than enough metres away from you, and you’ve reached your things. And in that one, measly second that you take your eyes off him, he strikes, and your knife is flung across the small clearing.

A strangled grunt is ripped out of your throat when his full weight collides with you, squashing your arm against the rough tree bark that you both crash into — you scramble away from him to increase the distance, using the seconds that you gained to fumble for your knife and steady it in your hands. You’re nervous, but not for the reason most would expect — with every second that passed, Seyeon was getting further away.

Yells and growls fill the air with every blow that’s exchanged — your knife is cutting searing scratches into his chest, neck and face, his hand is yanking roughly on your hair, and it’s only when you allow the hilt of your knife to bury itself in his shoulder that you realise you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.

A pained howl, crystal clear and strong reverberates through the trees, echoing past the oak you had scaled and stretching through and above the forest until it reached what you could only guess were his pack mates.

You yank the knife out of his shoulder, leaving him heaving heavily and supporting his weight against a tree — not only were his pack mates approaching, but he would heal in a matter of hours and he would definitely be angrier than he was previously.

You can already hear the pounding of paws against the forest floor, your bag clutched in your hand as you sprint through the thick foliage, leaping over fallen branches and logs and manoeuvring around dips and bends in the earth. Your chest is pumping, throat burning with the effort of keeping your breathing up to scale, and you almost (almost) feel tears pricking at your eyes because if you don’t get out of this, what happens to Seyeon?

You see the river that you had taken note of earlier — you could hopefully lose them there, you’re closer to breaking through the cover of the trees, almost there—!

At the last second, just before you’re about to burst past the shade of the trees, a figure steps right in front of you, effectively blocking your path and sending panic and fright straight to your stomach — before you can stop yourself, you’re sent tumbling into the person, knocking you both to the ground in a distorted heap.

And then you’re up again, hand wrapped around your hunting knife so tightly that you fear it may cut into your own skin — but that doesn’t matter right now, because the man that had blocked your path is towering over you now, not even seeming bothered by the silver you wield in your hand.

There’s nowhere to run. You’ve pressed yourself against a tree to get as far away as you could from the man in front of you, and relay your escape routes. The river is too far away, you’d never make it before your head was ripped off — but that doesn’t seem so bad, honestly, when the rest of the pack begin to assemble in a semicircle around you, all beared teeth and clenched jaws, evaluating the amount of trouble in front of them.

“Kill her,” one grumbles. He has raven locks, and looks so unbothered by your existence that you’re almost offended — but you can tell that there’s this - this fury in his eyes that makes your limbs become weak with nerves as you fully recognize the danger you’re in.

The man that you had stabbed in the shoulder steps beside the midnight-headed werewolf, hand pressed into the wound that was closing very, very slowly — so was the effect of silver on werewolves —, wincing slightly as he moves his hand to comfortingly place a hand on his arm. “We have to wait for Jungkook, Yoongi. Calm down.”

Like a switch has been flicked, ‘Yoongi’s’ eyes soften — just enough for you to notice — and he only tosses you an extremely disgusted look before he ushers the man t po behind the pack to check on his injuries. Of course. Yoongi’s the mate of the man that you’d stabbed — which is why he looks like he’s about to shift and tear your head from your shoulders (well, more than the others want to).

You only give that thought a second of your time, though, because pressure is rising in your chest and your breath is getting quicker as you get more desperate to get away from here. Thinking of what those savages could be doing to Seyeon made you feel sick to your stomach, and your eyes unconsciously flicker to the river.

“Don’t even think about it,” another one says, tall and tan and, strangely, pink-haired. Maybe if he wasn’t planning to kill you you could appreciate his handsomeness, but that wasn’t the case. He’s watching you carefully — the growing tremble of your lip, how you reposition the knife in your hand, the erratic beating of your heart.

“She must’ve stabbed him with silver,” Yoongi calls gruffly from behind the group, cursing minutes later. “It’s deep, too — fuck, forget Jungkook—”

And Yoongi pushes his way passed his pack before they can fully register his actions - or be bothered to stop them. You grit your teeth as he storms forward towards you, canines pressing into his bottom lip, and suddenly you’re just extremely fed up.

You had a sister to save — and these boys think that they can just waste your extremely precious time? No, not today.

So you square your shoulders like you had done millions of times before, clenched your jaw, and pulled another knife from your jacket roughly. Yoongi stops in his tracks when he sees what exactly you’re armed with, and you have to hand it to him: he’s not completely stupid. Two silver knives and an angry woman? Not the best combination, in all honesty.

“Take another step and I give you an even deeper wound,” you threaten lowly, scoping Yoongi’s reaction. He stills, eyes completely focused on yours, and it’s only when you threateningly lunge forward slightly that he shrinks back.

The other members are tense now, as still and quiet as the dense forest that surrounds you; the pink-haired one and a broad-shouldered blonde share a look, but before they can act on whatever they had been communicating about, you interrupt them.

“Don’t even think about it,” you repeat the words that had been relayed to you just minutes ago, inhaling deeply. “I’ve beaten up a larger pack with one knife - don’t think I’m afraid to do the same to you with two.”

“You’re making a mistake,” the pink-haired one says slowly, hands raised in surrender. “Our Alpha will be here in seconds and if he sees you threatening us like this, he won’t be happy—”

“Don’t try and reason with her, Namjoon,” a silver-haired werewolf spits, glaring at you. “She’s human. Just wait until Jungkook arrives — he’ll tear her throat out—”

“Let him try,” you bite back, “See if I don’t slit his throat first—”

“I’d ask you what you’re doing on our land, but I think it’s obvious already,” a voice sighs from behind you. As quick as a shot, you whip around, flinging your knife expertly at the source of the sound—

The brunette that stands metres away from you narrowly misses the knife, and it instead buries itself into the bark of the tree that he once stood in front of. He lets out a low whistle, inspecting the knife, but soon turns back to the matter at hand.

“A group from a pack a few miles from here passed by just an hours ago — with a human girl…” He muses, eyes trained on the ground with a smirk painted on his face, as if hearing your heartbeat accelerate at the thought of Seyeon was amusing. He trails slowly towards you and his pack, an aura of power rolling off him in waves, and it’s obvious that he’s the Alpha the rest have been relying on to save them — Jungkook, did they call him?

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

You don’t know why you haven’t thrown your knife into his jugular, like you promised you would — it feels like something is making you hesitate, making your hands feel heavy and your heart even heavier. Whether it’s the hint of information on Seyeon that makes you stop or something else, you don’t know…

He stands now just a few centimetres in front of you, and finally lifts his head to meet your eyes.

Seconds pass, and you’ve almost become insane with the amount of suspense that’s thickened the air, but he doesn’t seem to be progressing. He just… stares, mouth opened in mid speech and pupils dilated — it’s only half a minute later that he seems to break out of his spell, body relaxing from its previous tense state and mouth shutting.

“You want us to take care of her?” Somebody says from behind you, and your hand clenches around the handle of your other knife. In the sheer weirdness of the moment, you had almost forgotten about the matter at hand—

“Don’t lay a hand on her,” Jungkook orders firmly, barely allowing enough time for the sentence to finish. “We’re not doing anything to her.”

Did - did you hear that right?

The others must think the same, because you hear another one of them laugh in disbelief. “She’s a human! She stabbed Taehyung and threatened us — and you, too! We can’t do nothing—!”

None of you will bring harm to my mate!” His voice booms, echoing throughout the clearing, and you feel your stomach drop to its lowest pits — the atmosphere thickens, and your breath is sucked from your lungs. You can barely register your grip loosening on your knife, and suddenly your eyes are focusing and unfocusing, dizziness pulling at rhe edges of your mind, and you feel the world rushing passed you, and then—

Everything goes black.


When you wake, you almost immediately panic.

Where are you? Since when did you have an actual bed? What happened to the wooden ceiling — the wooden everything? And where was Seyeon—?

Oh God. Oh God, she’s gone. You couldn’t find her — you had fainted… Memories trickle back erratically, not unlike water from the broken water tap back home; you remember the pack that you had stumbled across, you remember being cornered, needing to escape — you remember the Alpha. Jungkook.

You - you had to go. You had to leave, you had to get Seyeon, you had to save her before something happened to her—

“Calm down, love. Calm down…” Your heart rate spikes as a voice appears from seemingly nowhere, but a glance to your left reveals the figure that had crossed your mind just moments ago.

He sits there - Jungkook - dark brown hair flopping over his forehead and onto his tanned skin, over his doe-like eyes. You feel a strange mixture of hatred and affection in your chest, which really makes no sense because you’ve only met him. Immediately, you begin to shake your head, refusing to do what he was telling you because how could you be calm at a time like this?

“No, no, no,” your voice begins quiet, weak, unused for what you can only guess was a few hours, but as the desperation and hysterics set in, you find your voice growing bigger and bigger, trembling with worry as you begin to sit yourself up, “I have to go get her — I have to find her, I have to, I have to—!

“It’s alright, it’s okay,” you hear him over your cries, trying to soothe you. The next thing you know, his hand is on your arm and he’s trying to push you gently back into bed.

Get your hands away from me!” Your voice is shrill and not at all happy, and with a hurt look on his face, Jungkook yanks his hand away immediately. You don’t know why his expression affects you so much, but it does; as if realising what you did, you begin to calm slightly.

“I - I need to find her,” you choke out, a feeling of complete defeat hovering over your body. It was all over; you had been out for a good few hours, and by now, those werewolves would've—

“She’s already been found,” Jungkook whispers carefully, quietly, waiting for your reaction. It takes a few minutes for you to completely register what he says, your mind clouding over with confusion. Your thoughts completely stop in their tracks, dwindling off until they disintegrate into nothingness.

“W-what?” You echo, sitting up. “Well, where is she? Is she okay? Is she hurt? Has she eaten? What did they do to her—?”

“She’s fine,” he murmurs. “She’s in the kitchen right now, actually, eating. They didn’t do anything to her — they were gonna sneak her off and sell her as a slave for some higher up in the city… We got there just in time.”


It feels as of the weight of the world has risen off of your shoulders. You can think clearly now; your behaviour just minutes ago brings heat to your face, and you feel shame well up in your stomach. You had never acted like that before — you were strong, calm and responsible, but that just goes to show how important Seyeon was to you.

But Seyeon was alright, she wasn’t hurt, and you could go home now — or could you? If you remembered correctly, Jungkook had said that you were his mate, and if you remembered even further back than that, according to Nancy, werewolves mated for life.

“Thank you,” you bite your lip sheepishly, a stark contrast to not only your usual personality but to the emotional breakdown that had occured minutes ago. “Really, I’m forever in your debt…”

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook smiles gently, brushing a hand through the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Mates look out for each other.”

At the mention of the topic of mates, you can feel the atmosphere shift to a more awkward, serious one. “I know you want to go home,” Jungkook exhales, “And I’ll let you go if you want to. But please, understand. I - literally - will never find anyone like you — it may be a bit early to call it love, but…”

“I understand,” you smile uneasily. It was such a radical concept to take in. Humans didn’t have mates, but you tried to understand to the best of your ability. “I'm… I’m willing to try with you. I mean, if you’re not too bothered at the concept of having a human for a mate.”

“Never,” he grins — and just when the quietness begins to settle in, just as Jungkook’s loving stare makes your stomach become a little too fluttery, the door bursts open, and a small body flings itself onto the bed in a matter of seconds.

Seyeon’s sobbing before you can fully register that she’s in your arms, and the sight already has you tearing up. Despite the fact that you’re fully aware she’s not hurt, you still take the time to look over each and every part of her, smoothing down stray hairs and kissing her forehead and rocking her back and forth, and Jungkook only smiles gently, leaving the room to give you time alone.


3 years later.

The forest is still. It seems like the birds have stopped tweeting and the wind has stopped rustling the leaves under the pressure of the moment. Your bow is sturdy and firm in your hand, breath bated and eye narrowed and focused on your prey. You wait in silence for the perfect moment to release your grip on the string, to let the arrow fly free until it hit its target…


You’ve trained yourself so that no expression shows on your face, but it’s completely contradicted by the shaking of your hand that, as a result, sends your arrow flying at least a few inches away from the deer you were hoping to catch, startling it and sending it fleeing.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you breathe heavily, turning on your heel. The grinning werewolf doesn’t flinch as you storm up to him, casually leaning against a tree. “You scared my prey, asshole!”

“Nuh uh,” Jungkook tsks, grabbing your wrist as you throw a purposely weak punch directed at his jaw. Easily, and without any struggled, he’s switched your places so that he’s caged you against the tree. “No cursing. I’m not having my pups curse fresh out of the womb.”

“Maybe if you didn’t ruin my hunt, I wouldn’t have to curse,” you grumble, rolling your eyes as he nuzzles his nose into your jaw.

“Come on,” he quips playfully, pressing a kiss against your lips, once, twice, three times before he takes the bow from your hands, “You’re not allowed to hunt, anyway. It’s not safe for you or the pups.”

“Nothing is safe anymore,” you remark smartly as he begins to trail off, looking back at you to see if you were following. You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing yourself off the tree and beginning to follow. “I can’t hunt, clean, fight, sew, or do anything that includes any sharo object—”

“I wasn’t the one who put those rules in place!” Jungkook defends, wrapping an arm around your shoulder when you catch up. “Seyeon was the one who told me to not let you do those things.”

“Seyeon is eleven,” you remind him.

“Seyeon is your sister,” Jungkook replies, “and because of that, and because of the fact that she knows you better than anyone, I value her opinion over almost anybody elses when it comes to your safety.”

“Even mine?” You ask incredulously, stopping in your tracks.

“Baby,” Jungkook glances over his shoulder, “You can barely sit down properly with toppling over. Hunting isn’t safe — you should start again after you give birth.”

You huff, grabbing your bow back from him. “Whatever.”

“You know I’m right.”

“You’re never right, Jungkook.”

“Maybe not normally,” he shrugs, “But I’m right when it comes to you, love.”

In the Rough

(based on this) part 1 (you are here), part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

There’s a lot about Mari that Yuuri loves. In fact, he’d go so far as to say that he loves his sister more than almost anyone else, except maybe his parents. Despite their six year age difference, neither of them have ever had any other kids to really interact with. As such, each of them were the other’s best and only friend. But the fact has always remained that Mari is older than Yuuri. One day, he’s always known, she will be the queen of Yutopia. What he didn’t expect was for that day to come so quickly, or have such a profound effect on their relationship.

It was gradual at first: Mari turning him away from her door when he asks her to help him with his studies, Mari spending more and more time in the library with her own when she was never the best of students before, Mari lashing out at him when he actually gets the courage to press for her attention occasionally. Time and again, Mother assures him that it’s just the responsibility of being the crown princess that’s weighing on her. Still, Yuuri can’t help if he’s lonely.

That’s what led to this.

“Not now, Yuuri.” Mari is sounding increasingly irritated with him, but he can’t really seem to stop himself. It’s been months since they’ve had a proper conversation.

“It will only take a minute, I promise!”

“I don’t have a minute!” she finally snaps, rounding on him. “I don’t have a minute to myself because the coronation is so soon. What on earth makes you think that I have time to spare for you? Don’t be such a clingy child!”

Yuuri silently curses the way his eyes well up with tears. “I… Excuse me.”

“Yuuri, wait. I didn’t mean–” He can hear her calling out to his back, but the words don’t really register.

Being too overbearing has always been Yuuri’s biggest fear; he’s emotional and soft in a way that no self-respecting royal should ever be. Mari knows this, and used it against him. He really must be too much if she of all people is telling him so. He can just leave her alone until after the coronation. Maybe longer, if it looks like she’s feeling too overwhelmed by his presence. He has an outfit that he uses sometimes when palace life is too much for him and he sneaks out to go to town. He can use that to sneak out. He can take a horse, a sword, and some money, and hide out somewhere until everything blows over in a couple of months.

It doesn’t take Yuuri long to slip past the guards and get off the castle grounds. He’s done it countless times before, once even smuggling Prince Phichit out with him. He slips out the back way, through the forest. Everyone in town knows his face, and most of his subjects do too; it will be best to avoid people for a while.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that he’s brave enough to stray from the path. The woods between this and the next kingdom are deep, and more than one traveller has gotten lost within them, or attacked by robbers. If his maps are right, he’ll be able to get to the next kingdom within a fortnight.

Sleeping on the forest floor is irritating, but hardly anything new; this isn’t the first time that Yuuri has disappeared for a few days, even if it’s the first time that he’s planning on leaving the kingdom without permission. By the eighth day, Yuuri’s rations are beginning to get a bit low. He’s grimy, there are leaves and twigs in his hair, and his ratty cloak is rattier than ever. Still, he doesn’t turn back. At this point, going home would create more distress than it would relieve. If need be, he can just… kill a rabbit or something. There’s a stream less than ten minutes from the path, and making a fire is no problem. He can make it to the next kingdom.

The sound of a carriage jolts him out of his thoughts. He darts back into the trees, hiding in a bush. He still hasn’t crossed the Yutopia border, so it’s possible– probable, even –that the driver of that carriage knows who Yuuri is. As the carriage draws closer, Yuuri can make out little details that start to change his mind. Its blue, for one thing, and only a single carriage; most trader caravans are made up of several plain wagons with faded paint.

Yuuri hears rustling behind him. In less than a second, the quiet rustling becomes shouting. Bandits. Seven men attack the carriage from all sides, one even jumping from a tree to land on top of the carriage. Yuuri doesn’t even realize that he’s drawing his sword until it’s already out.

The door to the carriage flies open and two men– one man and one boy, really, no more than thirteen –jump out, weapons drawn and ready. The boy shouts something that sounds like “Stay the fuck there or I’m telling Dad,” but Yuuri can’t focus too much on him. He’s taken down one of the robbers, but there’s another one coming at him.

It takes the three of them nearly twenty minutes to knock out all of the robbers, and when they do, they’re panting.

“Thank you for the help.” The dark-haired man from the carriage holds out his hand for Yuuri to shake. “We might not have made it without you.”

“It–It was nothing, really.” Yuuri holds up his hands, as if that will deflect the praise. “I was just trying to help. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Tch.” The boy sheaths his sword. Now that Yuuri has a chance to look at him, he’s amazed. The boy is beautiful, almost fairy-like, but he fights like a demon. He’s also dressed like a royal. “At least you didn’t get in the way.”

Yuuri doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to. There’s a laugh from inside the carriage and someone else exits. This man is definitely a royal, and it’s possible that he’s even more beautiful than the boy. They must be related, with their strangely colored hair and eyes.

“That’s high praise coming from you, Yuratchka.” The man looks Yuuri up and down, and Yuuri has to force himself not to blush. “I’ve decided. He’ll be my new bodyguard. I’ve been needing a new one, and I can’t bear to see my beloved younger brother fight on my behalf anymore.”

The man swoons dramatically, but it looks like he’s actually about to fall. Neither of his companions make a move to catch him, and neither does the driver, a woman with bright, fiery red hair. Yuuri is there before he knows it, catching the man before he can actually fall to the ground.

He finds himself looking into the most piercing pair of eyes that he’s ever seen. His eyes inexplicably heat up and Yuuri can tell that if he looks for too long, he’ll be overwhelmed; those eyes can see straight into his soul.

“Be careful,” Yuuri manages.

The man flicks a piece of silver hair out of his eyes and smiles, standing up straight. “Yes, he’ll do nicely. I’m keeping him.”

He ends up on the floor a second later anyway, courtesy of the flying kick that the boy– his younger brother, Yuuri reasons –aims at his back. “Don’t just assume that some random man in the forest is trustworthy enough to be your bodyguard! Think this through, old man!”

“I’m only twenty two,” the man pouts from the ground. “You’re so mean, Yuratchka. Besides, he saved my life, and he doesn’t seem to have anywhere to go. Dad will allow it.”

Yuratchka rolls his eyes and walks over to the carriage. “Whatever. You might want to ask him what his name is before you ask him to risk his life for you though.”

The door slams and Yuuri is still a little confused. The man is still on the ground, the dark haired man from earlier is sheathing his sword without a care in the world, apparently used to this sort of behavior.

“He has a point!” Silver-Haired Man bounces up and picks the twigs out of his hair. “If you’re my new bodyguard, I must know your name.”

“Yuuri,” he says without thinking. Then he realizes that giving his true last name could be a very bad idea. “Yuuri… Nishigori.”

Silver-Haired Man introduces himself as Victor Nikiforov, the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom. The fairy-like boy with the foul mouth is indeed his brother, Prince Yuri. The other man is Georgi Popovich, Yuri’s personal bodyguard, and their driver is called Mila. The four of them have apparently been travelling together nearly all of Yuri’s life.

The reality of what he’s just inadvertently agreed to doesn’t hit until he’s sitting in the carriage with them later: he’s agreed to become the personal bodyguard to the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, who would no doubt know his name but not his face. Yuuri can’t help but wonder how he’s going to get himself out of this one without causing himself and everyone around him massive embarrassment.

Luckily, he has several months to come up with a solution.

Hair dye

(A/N): Heeeeyyyy, I really like Bucky so I decided to use him for this request 

Request:  Hey! I started following you pretty recently, I really like your writing! (not gonna lie I’ve accidentally passed HOURS just scrolling back in your blog reading your stories hahaha) So I’m currently re-dyeing my hair and i got a kick out the idea of Cap or Bucky helping someone dye their hair. Could you possibly write something along those lines? I feel like they’d be apprehensive to the idea at first, like “I like your hair as it is!” but eventually they’d be really into it. Thanks hun!!

Warnings: none

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor

Originally posted by emmastones

   You eyes the bottle of gray hair due excitedly, the bottle gleaming under your bathroom light. You’d been wanting to change your hair up a bit for quite sometime but you never knew what to do, but after seeing countless videos of people dying their hair gray you decided that that’s what you wanted to do. Cut to a few days later and you were prepped an ready to go, except for one little problem- you’d never dyed your hair before and you didn’t really know if you trusted yourself enough to try and do this alone which meant you had to recruit the help of someone in the tower, aka Bucky.

     You walk out of your bathroom, your hair already up and in sections, a towel wrapped around your throat, and the bottle of dye in your hand. As far as you knew Bucky was here today- he had been there that morning and he’d gone down to train but you hadn’t seen him since then. 

   You meander out into the living room of your floor and just as you do you smack right into Bucky himself. He’s panting slightly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his chest and face, and those sweat pants are slung around his hips so deliciously low you can almost see- 

     "(Y/N)?“ Bucky questions, his brows furrowed as he looks at you. "What’s uh- what’s up with the hair?” You give him a smile, suddenly remembering why you had left the bathroom in the first place.

     "So, I’ve been thinking about changing my hair for a bit but I didn’t know what I wanted to do-“ you smile sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders a but as you do. "But I found videos of people dying their hair gray and I decided that’s what I wanted to do,” Bucky looks at you for a bit, his eyes traveling Over your hair as he bites his lip.

    “Are you sure you want to change your hair?” He finally asks, breaking the silence that had consumed the two of you. 

     "Yeah, I do…do you not like the idea?“ You pout a bit, starting to feel just a bit self conscience. 

    "It’s just- your natural hair is so pretty,” Bucky states softly, giving you a sheepish smile as he does.

     "Oh…“ You whisper, switching the hair dye bottle between hands. "Well…maybe I’ll get Wanda to help me-”

    “Do you need help?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest. You nod your head, shifting your weight from foot to foot. 

   "Yeah, I’ve never tried to dye my hair before and I want this to look good so I was kinda hoping that you’d help me but uh- I’m kinda guessing that’s out the window now so I’m gonna go ask Wanda or Nat for help,“ You smile at Bucky as you take a step towards the elevator but Bucky catches your arm before you can. 

     "I can help you,” he smiles at you gently, even if the smile didn’t look all too genuine. “I’m pretty sure I know how to dye hair," 

     "You sure? I really can just go get one of the girls to help-” Bucky responds by grabbing the bottle and your hand, guiding you back into the bathroom before you could Ben protest. 

   "Sit on the counter,“ Bucky whispers as he flips the bottle over, reading over the instructions."So I start with the back first?” Bucky asks, popping the cap open as he grabs the brush you had picked up from the beauty supply store. You nod your head head as you hop up on the counter, your back towards Bucky as you look into the mirror. 

      “Yes?” Bucky hums as he dips the brush in the dye, his other hand gingerly holding a strand of your hair as he does.

    “You’re sure about this?” Bucky asks, seriously beginning to make you doubt your decision. He didn’t seem to like the idea all that much but you had loved the thought of gray hair so why should Bucky’s opinion deter you? 

    “Yes,” you sigh, nodding your head. “I’m sure,” Bucky gives his own little sigh as he raises the brush to your hair, the ends of it just barely brushing your neck. 

    “Okay doll,” Bucky whispers as he drags the brush down your strand of hair. Welup- even if you had wanted to back out you couldn’t now, not with Bucky already placing the dye in your hair. You only hoped that you’d actually end up liking it in the end and perhaps Bucky could like it too.

    Nearly an hour later and you were ready to wash the remaining dye out and blow dry your hair. Bucky had been excellent the entire time he dyed your hair, always making sure his touches were gentle, and he’d even cast you an apprehensive smile every now and then. 

   "Okay, head under the faucet,“ Bucky whispers, sticking his hand under the water to make sure it was warm enough. Satisfied with the temperature he whipped around to give you a smile, gesturing to the sink. With your own smile you slid up beside him, maneuvering your head under the sink.

    Bucky’s hands gingerly massaged your hair as he worked out the excess dye, his nails gently scraped along your scalp and you nearly moaned at the attention; damn his hands felt good. 

    "Okay, head up,” You maneuver your head from under the faucet and immediately Bucky wraps a towel around your hair, drying it out a bit before you blow dried it. You hum as Bucky gently dries your hair, his hands gently massaging your head once again. “Okay,” Bucky steps back, bringing the towel with him. “I think you’re done,” You smile at him, quickly pecking his lips before turning and grabbing your hair dryer. 

   "Almost done.“ You correct him, smirking as you plug the machine In. You hop back up on the counter, closing your eyes as you go to flip on the machine; you didn’t want to see your hair just yet, you wanted to be surprised. 

   "Um-” Bucky pauses, gesturing to the hair dryer. “Can I help?” You smile as you hand him the hair dryer and a brush, closing your eyes as you felt the brush of his fingertips against your hair. “Back up on the counter sweetheart,” He whispers, patting the granite counter top a bit. You clamber back on the counter, situating yourself on the cold stone as Bucky began to work on your hair. Gently, as he always was, he brushed your hair out, untangling any knots he worked up when he was drying your hair. After smoothing your tangles out he turned the hair dryer on, slowly beginning to dry your hair.

    It took longer than when you’d do it but Bucky was being so soft and gentle that you honestly couldn’t complain. You hum once again, arching up against his hand as he runs it through your hair, the other hand holding the hair dryer. 

   "Does that feel good?“ He asks, a smug tone to his voice. You nod your head, nearly purring at his touch.

    "Yeah,” you whisper.

     "That’s a shame considering your hair is dry now-“ Bucky shuts off the hair dryer, setting it down on the counter as he once again grabbed the brush to brush at any tangles. 

   "Is it done? Does it look good?” You ask as Bucky inspects your hair, lifting some strands and pushing some others out of the way. 

   "Why don’t you look?“ Bucky asks, gesturing to the mirror. You sigh shakily as you glance at the mirror, a smile suddenly rising to your lips as you caught a glimpse of your hair. 

   "Oh wow,” you whisper, giving the mirror your full attention now. “Bucky this looks great!” You smile at him, quickly hopping off the counter to hug him tightly. Bucky chuckles, hugging you back as you squeeze him. “Wow this is- I love it!" 

    "Yeah?” Bucky questions as he runs his fingers through the now silver hair, each strand glimmering under the bathroom lights. “I think I love it too,”

    “I thought you liked my natural hair?" 

    "Well I do, but this is really cool too,” Bucky smiles, shifting some of your hair around.

    “So you don’t hate it?”

     "No,“ Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline. "I don’t hate it. You’re like a really attractive silver fox," 

    "Oh god,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m going to be hearing these old jokes until this fades," 

    "You know it,” Bucky chuckles, rubbing his nose against yours. “Hey! We could be that foxy old couple!" 

    "That’s it- I’m dyeing it again,”

21 (Smut) (Potential New Admin)

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

[ reminder: these are submitted to us so that we can see if we want the writers to be admins on our account. we’re sharing them with you so that you can give feedback! if you like this, help the writer out and send us a message about it or reblog/reply with a comment. full credit goes to the blog listed at the very bottom ] [ other applications and scenarios here ]

Description: The day finally came; you turned the prime age of 21! In celebration, your work friends and fellow employees insisted on bringing you to the newest, hottest bar in town: Lucky Buzz. As the party dies down and everyone goes home, you’re left in your drunken state, alone, at the bar. Park Jimin, your closest friend in the office, thankfully helps you home.

Jimin X Reader (feat. Taehyung)

Warnings: Language, Smut, Clothed Sex, mentions of alcohol

Previous Application / Scenario / Drabble

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u-dubstep-my-heart  asked:

imagine this: au where victor and yuuri are "figure skating dads" and their kids are pair skating together. children are around age of 6/7 and just started skating. both of them are single and victor is shamelessly flirting with yuuri but he denies everything and pretends that nothing is happening between them when everybody are just waiting for them to hook up. eventually their kids have enough and are trying to get them on a date. idk, just got this idea and wanted to share, what do you think?



“Which one’s yours?”

Yuuri blinks, glances to his left, where the voice had come from. There’s a man, with seemingly no sense of personal space, leaning over him. Yuuri looks around for a second, but then realizes that this man is most definitely speaking to him and only him.

He smiles and looks out towards the rink, seeing his daughter fall and then get back up again, brushing off her knees like it was nothing. “That one.” He points. “Sara.”

The other father squints. “White shirt?” When Yuuri nods to confirm, he gestures towards the bench. “May I sit?”

“Sure,” Yuuri offers, shifting to his left. “Which one’s yours?”

“That one,” he answers, and points. “Her name’s Mila.”

Yuuri realizes that the answer was obvious from the start–there’s only one child on the ice with silver hair. It’s a little girl with two long braids and a smile on her lips. The same age as Yuuri’s daughter, perhaps slightly older. The girl–Mila–is skating past all the rest, extending her arms as she does so, letting her balance take control.

“She’s very good,” Yuuri notes, and the man laughs, nodding.

“Looks like your daughter is, too.”

Then, though, Mila falls. It’s not a bad fall, but she happens to be near Sara, who approaches her, offering her a hand to help her up. The silver-haired girl accepts it, and then they’re smiling at each other, skating along the edge of the rink side by side.

“Looks like they’re friends now,” the man muses. “I guess we should be, too. Victor Nikiforov.” He extends his hand.

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Originally posted by sassenach4life

The previous night…

I put my mouth on Jamie’s nipple, flicking it lightly with my tongue. He made a small sound deep in his throat and pulled me nearer. “Open your legs,” he whispered. “I mean to be sure you’ll remember me while I’m gone.”

Sometime later, I woke feeling cold. Groping sleepily for the quilt, I couldn’t find it. Suddenly it came up over me of its own accord. Surprised, I raised up on one elbow to look. “I’m sorry,” Jamie said. “I didna mean to wake ye, lass.” “What are you doing? Why are you awake?” I squinted over my shoulder at him.

It was still dark, but my eyes were so accustomed that I could see the faintly sheepish expression on his face. He was wide awake, sitting on a stool by the side of the bed, his plaid flung around him for warmth. “It’s only…well, I dreamed you were lost, and I couldna find ye. It woke me, and…I wanted to look at ye, is all. To fix ye in my mind, to remember while I’m gone. I turned back the quilt; I’m sorry you were chilled.”

“It’s all right.”

The night was cold, and very quiet, as though we were the only two souls in the world. “Come into bed. You must be chilled too.” He slid in next to me and curled himself against my back. His hands stroked me from neck to shoulder, waist to hip, tracing the lines of my back, the curves of my body. “Mo duinne,” he said softly. “But now I should say mo airgeadach. My silver one. Your hair is silver-gilt and your skin is white velvet. Calman geal. White dove.”

I pressed my hips back against him, inviting, and settled against him with a sigh as his solid hardness filled me. He held me against his chest and moved with me, slowly, deeply. I gasped a little and he slackened his hold.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didna mean to hurt ye. But I do want to be in you, to stay in you, so deep. I want to leave the feel of me deep inside ye with my seed. I want to hold ye so and stay wi’ you ’til dawn, and leave you sleeping and go, with the shapes of you warm in my hands.”

I pressed firmly back against him. “You won’t hurt me.”

Silver Storm (6/?)

Summary: While on trip out of state, you were taken by Hydra. You were barely 21 at the time. Hydra took you and turned you into another asset, matching the Winter Soldier’s abilities. They injected you with a serum similar to his, wiped you,  and instructed the soldier himself to train you. He was hard on you, but when it was just the two of you he let his walls down. You were each other’s comfort, until the events of D.C when he was sent to kill Captain America. After that day, you never saw him again. You were told he abandoned you, that he was on the other side now. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, but what happens when he comes bursting through the doors of your facility?

Memories are in Italics, bold is readers thoughts *

It’s kind of a slow chapter guys, but itll step up for the next ones!

Pairing: none so far, but Bucky x reader (eventually) , reader x avengers

Warnings: swearing, angst , a little fluff

 - I wasn’t aware there was already a superhero with this name, so my character is in no way connected to  Marvels Silver Storm! *

                                                      Chapter 6

   It’s been a few days since you walked away from Bucky. He’s tried talking to you, but you manage to duck out every time. You’ve spent the days without him learning of your life before Hydra. You spent the first day with Tony learning how to look through your old Facebook account. You both laughed at the ridiculous pictures that appeared and he did his best to comfort you when the painful memories shook your mind. The second and third day consist of you and Tony stalking your family. He was able to pull up information on your siblings and parents. The memories those days were mostly from your childhood, and when the tears fell Tony was there to hand you tissues. The dynamic of your relationship with him slightly altered those days and you saw a side you didn’t see before. Although it didn’t bring you incredibly closer, it helped you both ease each other into both your lives.   

   It’s the third night away from Bucky and you’re bracing yourself for the lack of sleep that’s coming. It’s not that Wanda’s presence isn’t comforting, it’s just a completely different sense of comfort. With Bucky, everything about him made you feel safe; his smell, his body heat, his voice, the way his arms would hold you in your sleep. You still have been able to sleep but not as soundly. Tonight, as you slip under the covers next to Wanda, the only thing swirling around your mind is Bucky. You stay up a little longer after Wanda falls asleep, your mind still not quieting down. Your eyes finally start to droop and you willingly let them .  

    You are woken up by the feeling of lips on your forehead and hushed whispers. Your heart is racing as you look up to see Bucky holding you almost completely in his lap. You shove yourself out of his lap, your body landing on the floor with a thud. You notice Wanda leaning against the door, her eyes red and puffy, tears still leaking from them. Oh god no, did I hurt her?

Originally posted by 1-hell-of-a-pilot

“Wanda did I-”

“No no no, you didn’t hurt me. You were having a nightmare. I didn’t know how to wake you safely, so I went in your mind to pull you out like I did with your memory that day. But I couldn’t… it was like I was watching a film and you couldn’t hear me.“  

You reach your hand to your eyes, feeling tears you didn’t even know existed and your throat burned. You try to remember what you were dreaming but you’re coming up blank.

"You were whimpering then screaming for Bucky. Actually, you cried for Winter,” Wanda says. Your eyes widen. Oh great. Of freaking course I scream for his help. You turn, looking at Bucky. Tears remain on his face, his eyes trained on you.

“Wanda, can you give us a minute?” he asks, his voice hoarse. She nods then steps out, shutting the door behind her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m sorry,” you say, standing up. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Y/n, I wasn’t sleeping. Do you really think I’ve slept over the last couple days?” You look over his features, noting the bags under his eyes. You don’t answer, just awkwardly stand in your place.

“Will you give me a chance to explain or are you going to duck out again?” he questions. You hear the desperation in his voice. You nod and seat yourself on the edge of the bed.

“I probably should have mentioned Katie. She’s just - she’s not - I’m not in a relationship with her, and I know that’s what you think. We had a mutual agreement to help each other…blow off steam after missions. That’s all it was, nothing more. That night was my fault. I should have called her and explained what was happening, but I -”

“What was happening Bucky? What would you of told her? Oh hey Katie, sorry I can’t sleep with you. I have an ex assassin from my Hydra days over tonight,” you spit out. The anger in your voices shocks him, but you continue.

Originally posted by suitelikechocolate

“Bucky, I’m not even mad about it! That just knocked sense into me. I don’t know you, I don’t know Bucky Barnes. I know Winter. And he doesn’t exist anymore. I know absolutely nothing about you in this new life you made! You only know Silver, hell I only know Silver! Everything I ever knew was in that damn Hydra base!” You run your fingers through your hair as you begin pacing Wanda’s room.

“This isn’t about me thinking you were in a relationship, it’s me realizing I don’t know how to function  here!” Tears of frustration escape your eyes. “I don’t even have the one person I want to comfort me anymore, he was the only safe-”

“I’m right here Y/n!” Bucky yells, frustration also clear in his voice. “I have the same feelings I did then Y/n. Being here, being an Avenger, and having a new life hasn’t changed the fact that I love you!”

Originally posted by in-perfectenschlag

You stay silent, not knowing how to answer. Do I love him? How can I when I don’t even know him?

“I don’t know who you are,” you whisper.

“I’m the same person Y/n, just with memories and freedom now. I’ll still mend you when you’re broken, and I still love you, Мой солнечный свет ( my sunshine).” He moves in front of you, takes your chin in his hands, pulling your lips to his is a slow but intense kiss. You can’t deny the sparks you feel, but it doesn’t change the problem .

Originally posted by halsteadandlindsay

He pulls away , eyes finding yours. “Maybe you don’t know everything about me, and I don’t know who you were before Hydra, but what’s stopping us from learning?“ he questions. He’s right, the only thing stopping us is me.

 "And what if you don’t like who I am?” you ask.

 "I’ll tell you what I learned when i came here: I am not the same James Buchanan Barnes I was in the 40’s before Hydra took me, but I’m not the Winter Soldier either. I am myself, my life is new with new people and new experiences. I got to start over. After being through what we have, there is no going back to exactly how we are; only fragments of our past selves survived the hell Hydra forced us through.“ He tilts your face, your eyes now locking with his.

"But I can assure you, I will love you no matter who you are. The piece of you that survived Hydra was your heart and your care for other people. The first thing you thought when you woke up was if you hurt Wanda or not, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he continues. “ And when you saw Katie, you felt bad that you ruined what you thought was going on, hurting either of our feelings?” You still don’t reply.

“You use to take care of me when I returned wounded from mission. You’d run your hand down my cheek and tend to my wounds when the handlers wouldn’t. There is no doubt in my mind that you were the same with your family and friends before Hydra. And there is no doubt you will always be this way. That is why I love you. No matter how you chose to make your new life, I will love you.” Tears are escaping both of you and you pull him to you into a hug, silently accepting his explanation and declaration of love.

Originally posted by relationshipaims

You pull apart when you hear Wanda clear her throat. ” Uh guys, this is real sweet and everything but it’s 4 a.m… I kind of want to sleep,“ she says sheepishly.

“Do you want to stay with Wanda?” Bucky asks.

“I’ve already cost Wanda enough sleep, I think I might just go watch Netflix.” You hug Wanda goodnight and Bucky follows you out.

Bucky ends up joining you and instead of watching Netflix you talk all night. You tell him about the memories that popped up when you looked into your past, you even had FRIDAY pull up some of the embarrassing and funny pictures you found on your Facebook. Things felt in place again. You fell asleep in Bucky’s arms, your body laying flat on top of his.

You are woken up by the sound of Tony and Wanda’s voices.

“Neither of them are in their rooms,” Tony voice almost echoes in the room.

“Well, Y/n said she was going to watch Netflix, maybe they’re-”  her voice stops as they get closer.

“Wake them up before -”

You hear the elevator ding and more voices appear. They feel familiar to you but you can’t place your finger on where they are from. You lift your head off Bucky’s chest and nuzzle your nose against his to wake him. It works. His eyes blink open, a dazzling lop sided smile gracing his face.

Originally posted by livpaix

 "Good mor-“ He is cut off by the voices growing closer. You see the voices register in his mind as unfamiliar and he goes into protective mode. He lifts you off him, leaving you on the couch as he stands. You stay in your place, slightly loving how defensive he gets for you.

"Tony, I didn’t know we were having guests,” Bucky says suspiciously. You watch his eyes. You assume he’s looking over whoever is here.

“Stand down, Barnes. They aren’t here for you. Sweetheart, can you sit up?” Tony’s tone was sweet, slightly catching you off guard, but you obey his request. You stand at Bucky’s side. When you lift your eyes, you’re met with the visitors: an older man and woman. Oh my God. Your mouth hangs open as your chest tightens and tears start pouring out of your eyes like a waterfall. Their faces mirror what you believe yours looks like: absolute shock and so many tears.

You know why the voices sound familiar and why you couldn’t place them. The couple standing in front of you move closer. Everything in you is screaming at you to take a step back, distance yourself. But you don’t. You stand still, shock flooding your body. You finally find the strength to speak, only able to get two shaky words out.

“Mom? Dad?”

Originally posted by little-diable

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Thicker than Water - Part 3

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)


Bucky x Reader series

Summary: Inspired by this post (x)
Being born and raised in a HYDRA family means you must be a devoted member to the organisation, carrying out orders with blind obedience. But after being assigned the suicide mission of being the Winter Soldier’s handler, you slowly start to question where your loyalties truly lie.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, mentions of nakedness

Word Count: 3171

A.N: BUCKLE UP KIDS! this is only getting started

Originally posted by ofallingstar

February 2004
0428 hours

“I can’t believe you’re working in the lab,” said Daniel as he inserted a new magazine into his gun, tossing his old one somewhere on the floor of the shooting range.

You were sitting behind him, feet propped over the small table while you leaned behind on a chair you had dragged all the way to the cubicle, smirking.

“I mean-” -he went on, gesturing with both hands but stopping once realized he was holding a loaded gun in one of them “sorry- it’s just- you’re probably the best shooter we’ve had and they’re making you waste your abilities.”

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2.1 out of 5.0  [part one]

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Black Mirror Nosedive AU, Smut {angst in later parts}
Warnings: exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk
Summary: You were a 4.9 and he was a 2.1, and that fact alone should have made you realize that the two of you were never meant to be. But as the saying goes, “the heart wants what it wants”.
Word Count: 10k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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Thranduil’s Talented Tongue - Thranduil x Reader

This Thranduil x Reader fanfic is based on the above imagine by @elven-nicknacks.

And believe me, the king takes his obligations very seriously. So better be prepared for some steamy action with Thranduil’s talented tongue.

I decided to take this one-shot towards a teasing side and include some very light bondage. But admit it, dominant and in control Thrandy is just absolutely irresistible. So I hope you enjoy your time with the King of Smirkwood ;). And I am definitely not sorry for the smut, the queen deserves a loving treatment from her king.

You can also find this one-shot on AO3.

Length: 3.986 words

I do not own Thranduil (unfortunately), nor any of the other characters from Tolkien’s Middle-earth. I do not make any money with this, this is purely for entertainment.

Thranduil’s Talented Tongue

With an exasperated sigh you slammed the door shut behind you, the wood creaking dangerously on its hinges. You were fuming and in a bad temper. „Ah! Those endless meetings!“, you grumbled to yourself, cursing under your breath as you fought to unfasten your cloak. „They drag on forever. Can they not spare the king for one evening?“

You stomped towards the bed and kicked off your slippers seeing with satisfaction as they bounced off the bedpost. „Why do I need to do without him and go to bed alone? They are all just boring officials with boring reports about boring things.“ 

You flung your cloak into the furthermost corner of the room and threw yourself onto the soft bed, enjoying the springy feeling as you bounced up and down softly with the momentum of your body’s motions. A naughty smile dawned on your face as you were reminded of all the other times the bed had bounced and shaken vigorously those countless times when Thranduil had made love to you there. He was such a passionate lover, tireless and ever striving to please you, his queen. You loved his playfulness and the fact that you could instil in him such desire that he would eventually cast away his self-restraint and do all those unspeakable things to you, his kisses burning on your skin, their imprint remaining on your body as a delicious memory. Just thinking about what he did to you sent flashes of heat through your body and you could feel your core begging to be caressed by his hands as they wandered all over your body just to find the spot that longed to be touched the most.

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