#bc. that ship name is so fitting at the moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tpher · 4 months

Text

scary girl analysis !

something something the most clearly gimmicky gen 4 character we know. as your resident pahkitew island apologist, i dont care. it actually took me a bit to warm up to her and i figured id talk abt why that is

so her main thing is being creepy and sadistic for the sake of jokes. its not serious.. mostly. she does prove to actually be down to hurt others (such as when she got a hold of a jackhammer). but what about an instance where she wanted to hurt someone for actual reasons? when was that?

that was when priya went up to her to compliment her on doing a good job on the previous challenge. priya says that shes surprised by scary girl having done a good job.

scary girls response?

a very defensive "oh, it surprised you that i was good? cuz you thought id do bad?"

and thats the thesis of this post

scary girl is very insecure

backing up for a moment, in ep 2 when the teams were on ships and attacking each other, she was the one who came up with the idea of sinking the other teams ship as an idea on what to do when they were out of ammo (? iirc). but no one else heard that, just zee

then in ep 3, ripper makes her go last in the relay race thing bc he didnt want her to "blow things" for the team. she reacts by trying to bite his finger. not with a funny creepy smile, but with genuine anger to her literal bite. and then during that challenge, she infamously grabs a bear by the arm and starts beating it up while saying "thats what you get for growling at me!!!". once shes done, she goes "byeee" and goes on like nothing happened. proving that if someone wrongs her, she can easily let it go.. so long as she gets to do something back. remember this for later

and here we come back to her interaction with priya. so far, scary girl has proven herself to be a pretty alright player and she herself knows that. so the notion of someone being SURPRISED she did well?? does not sit well with her at all. but the way that she harps on the wording, even before zee steps in to make it worse, is what gets to me. it just really adds an extra layer to her character that, well. ironically surprised me! for someone who always seems to be in her own world, so unconventional, so ill-fitting with everyone else to also be insecure in some capacity?

anyway she tries to hurt priya with a spoon but gets interrupted. later on, priya is still thinking abt their encounter and feels bad so she tries to make it up to scary girl by flattering her. namely by saying that scary girls question was smart.. and priya being her awkward self, only dug herself in a hole by making it seem like that was a smart question by scary girls standards

scary girl is speechless. baffled. mad beyond words

it should be noted that scary girl looked offended when priya even started speaking. meaning that she also did not forget about their conversation that morning. she REALLY took it to heart. applying the bear logic here, had scary girl hurt her with the spoon earlier, would she be less mad? would she had considered each other even? and in that case, would this comment go over better or would it had simply restarted her need for revenge?

well. they dont interact for the rest of the episode up until the very end. after ripper used priya as a human shield, obviously injuring her

scary girl tells her that rippers a jerk and that priya didnt deserve that. so she'll be voting to get ripper out. and calls priya her "friend".

(her face and tone makes me a bit suspicious if this was genuine. but thats probably just her being her offputting self so i'll ignore it.) ok so by scary girl logic, priya deserved to have SOMETHING bad coming her way after what she said to her.

but not this.

scary girl, who came here to "make friends and watch them get really hurt", was not okay with what ripper did to priya. perhaps she thinks that only she could be allowed to hurt priya to balance things out? personally giving priya her karma, perhaps?

but now she considers priya a "friend". who likely wants to see her get hurt. but in the fun way that scary girl likely sees most other contestants as, possibly? idk.

anyway after all of that, we can see just how insecure scary girl can get over unintentionally awkward phrasing. just how deeply it hurts her feelings to be underestimated like that

season 2 spoilers ahead !!!

in season 2, we see even less of her. but there is SO much to work with

normal girl is so fascinating to me

by the time s2 starts, scary girl already has an all new look. shes trying to be "normal"

she admits in her confessional that some ppl thought she was too scary in the first season so thats why she changed her appearance and her everything. who were these ppl?

other than a dog as a joke, online forums, showing an interesting glimpse into the in-universe ""real world"" stepping into total drama. perhaps also a meta joke on the fandoms response to her but who knows. imagine unabashedly being yourself on tv and everyone is telling you to change. you are 16 and likely going through a weird phase. feeling a lot of heightened emotions already and ""knowing"" that this is who you are (at the moment). and if its not a phase? still 16 on international television getting lambasted by millions

and last but not least, her MOM??? her own mother. that just raises more questions abt how scary girl was before getting on td. was she NOT like this before? was she playing it up for the cameras? or did she just go unhinged without parental supervision? in any case the fact is that even her own mom wasnt okay with what makes her happy and how she presented herself.

so scary girls solution? to try her best to suppress anything that made her unique. to try to adhere to "societal norms", in her own words.

we dont see much of her in this ep other than her commenting on how shes normal and totally did not want to see someone get hurt. shes clearly struggling so bad. she knows that apparently what she likes isnt "right", therefore the opposite must be true, right?

she is simultaneously so immediately different that the others didnt even recognize her at first. yet still so "scary" that she cant fit in. she just doesnt know how no matter how hard she tries. if she were to stay longer, what can she do? this game is not only abt your skills in the challenges its also a social thing. how long until she snapped and went back to her old ways?

and then we get to the campfire ceremony. chef is about to call out whatever it was the she did wrong that day, but she interrupts him with a simple "no."

she cannot fathom being sent home, at least not this early. bc shes normal! she is sooo normal and she tried SO HARD to be normal! she read normal books and normal movies and studied normal people. she even taught herself to smile in a more acceptable way, which is so autistic coded to me. so she deserves to stay longer.

(getting flashbacks to my topher psychoanalysis and his entitlement being both a tragedy and his self-imposed downfall)

..but she studied "normal people" in her own not-normal way. while they werent looking. while they were sleeping. while they had no idea she was there.

so she got booted out for that. and she cannot believe it.

when she says that she "didnt even try to hurt anyone this time", she is mad. that was her ""fun"" and she managed to control it 100% only to get eliminated??? shes fed up!

but when she talks about how she taught herself how to smile in a "less-creepy" way?

she softens up and looks genuinely hurt.

she tried so hard. she saw all those horrible comments from people judging her based on like 5 episodes on a reality show. her own mother didnt accept her. her insecurity won and she aimed to change and repress everything that made her unique

and it still wasnt enough

#txt #td scary girl #td spoilers #i think parts of this sound like im seriously condoning her hurting others bc its [her] fun #and i am! scarysweep

113 notes · View notes

ofbreathandflame · 11 months

Text

im sorry im breaking my anti fast for this bc its literally the most idiotic thing i have ever seen.

"some people hate sjm for the racism in her books"

yeah NO SHIT.

that has always been the point.

thats literally the entire point of being anti sjm posts. thats literally all we talk about in the anti tags. but shortsightedness and an unhealthy relationship with these characters has always blinded y'all to that fact.

you see this is why i could not stomach conversations because you guys constantly make a mockery of the problems in sjm's work and only acknowledge the problems for a 'gotcha' moment. EVERY SINGLE TIME we have talked about how the racism in sjm's work affects the writing of her characters you guys have made it into an anti feysand problem, and by doing that you have willingly separated yourself from the problems in the story. the reality is that the racism affects the way these characters are written -- including your favs. do not dare twist the main message of antis to fit some twisted little point you want to make toward specific blogs. i have been on my last account for over two years and EVERY TIME i -- or any anti -- has talked about the way sjm's racism bleeds onto the text we have been undermine, ran off our blogs, sent hate mail. so yeah it pisses me off to no end to be sent the dumbest post in the anti tags to ever exist. yall do not care about her racism, her misogynoir. if you did, you wouldn't be calling people brain dead for daring to dislike your favorite ship for valid reason -- i.e. the racism. we talked about the complexities of how racist the portrayal of the illyrians were -- and we were dismissed as anti feysand and therefore 'braindead.' we talked about the way women of color and the allusions of FGM (female genital mutilation)-- and we were called anti feysands and then dismissed. stay out of the anti tags -- especially if you are the ones perpetuating these dynamics. i was ran off my blog for discussing these issues for two years. y'all sent hate mail, called me tamlin stan -- called others tamlin stans -- for even daring to discuss the racism in sjm works. that's not even touching the nehemia situation, or crescent city. fuck off the tags. you literally have a blog dedicated to this woman and her racist ass characters, you shoot down any criticism of them because of it, and then yall have the nerve to come into the tags for the some hehe hahah tamlin stan bs??? double fuck off. the anti sjm tag has always been a place for that criticism. always.

addition: and these problems are not just valid when discussing characters you don't like. the illyrians are written to brutes, with the bat boys operating as the 'model minority'. the story justifies the lack of infrastructure, and the misogyny (misogynoir depending on how you classify illyrian women), the lack of progress.

'its a culture problem'

'rhysand has tried, but they wont listen'

like do you know how crazy it is to write a group of people as permanently mentally stunted? to classify their women as nameless entities that our main character can shift in and out of to satisfy her supposed 'man of color' sexually? feyre cosplays as a woman of color for SEX, meanwhile in FIVE BOOKS we've met one named illyrian woman and shes described 'interesting,' but not as pretty as opposed to nesta and gwyn, mor, and feyre who are the prettiest people to walk the earth. that don't sound CRAZY to yall??? these people of color are left without leadership, without infrastructure, no access to a golden city, no access to their high lord, are forced to breed out warriors who live and die without ever getting to enjoy the city of velaris, the house of wind for survivors. all of that so that the maincharacters can live out that power fantasy. its racist. thats what it is. please think consider reading comprehension b4 yall make these gotcha posts because it really stinks of weirdness.

the illyrians are treated like rabid animals by their leaders, by everyone and then the responsibility is on them to somehow progress when everyone is unwilling to give them nothing more than scraps. like there's a real life counterpart to this, and yall arguments are very real and very damaging.

they are written by the author to be a permanent second class deserving of their position because they're minds somehow cannot comprehend any 'progression.' all of these characters including rhysand, feyre, mor, az, cassian, tamlin, nesta say racist things toward them because THE NARRATIVE thinks they're justified in saying them. like the moralizing is wild in this case bc all of them are allowed to get away with it. its not just tamlin or nesta, not just the valkyries (which is an ENTIRELY different scenario btw). like the idea that all of the bad can be ascribed to the 'bad' characters and the 'good' characters somehow don't feed into those racist tropes is WILD. rhysand literally told us -- the reader -- the in the war against slaves and their oppressors somehow it was an equal battle. like?????? somehow 'both sides were at fault' ignoring that one side WAS LITERALLY SLAVES. like can u imagine if someone looked at the Haitian revolution and was like....yeah the side of the oppressors was somehow on equal footing when the other side WAS ENSLAVED? how can u acknowledge this author is racist and then pretend that the racism only bleeds over to the characters you *shockingly* don't like?? yes -- there is a problem with feyre wearing illyrian wings BECAUSE SHES THE HIGH LADY. she made herself that title. of course that carries a different weight. the racism is ingrained in the text, not just some little trinket to flash when you want to moralize bullying a small group of people with strawman arguments.

#anti sjm #anon girl im BLEW FOR YOU #like imagine trying to chastise the community that was literally BUILT to critique the problems #and for what????#a gotcha to the tamlin stans that don't even exist???#yall are arguing with air #like i literally just had to delete my blog for this stuff and here yall are #in the tags kekeing like people havent been bullied for it #like yall are the champions for adversity \#when yall are the ones propagating the nonsense to begin #ew ew #bc then its 'how could you not like feysand'#idk BC OF THOSE PROBLEMS #like did you think the author's bias was NOT going to factor into the way the characters are written?#it became 'pro tamlin this' pro nesta that #like the illyrians are r*cist to the T #and that was ignored for the sake of feysand #yall are real irra #but at least i know that yall understand the problems in these stories #yall just dont care #anti feysand #when we talked about the feyre wing situation yall went out of your way to mock it

156 notes · View notes

littlemisssatanist · 23 days

Note

can i ask for a small favor? can you rant about daemon targaryen please? i just re-read your team green 💚 post and i'm reminded of how much ick i feel towards that character, especially in the wake of the team trailers being released.

hiii!!! tysm for this ask i was super happy when i saw it in my inbox i'm flattered people want to hear my opinions lol

my thoughts about daemon are very convoluted. i think he has the potential to be a very interesting character but it's kinda canceled out by the incest and pedophilia thing.

like. i understand it's an incest dragon show but my main issue with team black when it comes to their criticisms. they love to spout endless words about how aegon is a rapist and how alicent is a rape apologist for not... idk slitting his throat i guess.

it's really ironic to me, because these same people will turn around and then yap about how daemyra is the perfect ship. they'll be aghast when you even slightly suggest you enjoy aegon's character in any way but be in an uproar if you dare bash their dashing and roguish prince daemon.

honestly, name one terrible thing aegon did and i'll be able to give you something daemon did that is arguably worse than that.

aegon - raping a servant girl in the show (which honestly i'm treating more as a fanfiction considering how terribly written both the greens and the blacks are).

daemon - uhmmmm probably the whole thing with nettles. you know. the sixteen year old girl he groomed and raped (yes raped because minors aren't able to consent). actually, now that i think of it, he did the exact same thing with rhaenyra too, huh? or does team black find the whole fleabottom episode to be hot and rhaenyra being sexually free? that seems like the sort of thing they'd take from that whole fiasco.

on the topic of blood & cheese: the way some people defend this is honestly sickening.

'but poor luke was killed by his terrible uncle aemond' he was an envoy of war (not to aemond, btw, he owed him no safe haven) and also he kinda. yk. took out his eye. i'm not saying luke deserved to die, but i'm going to be honest this is one of the more mild things that happened during the dance.

whether luke deserved to die (which i'd like to reiterate: i do not think he did. i can understand WHY aemond killed him, but that is not me EXCUSING him. this is for those of you who don't know how to read and will inevitably find a way to start putting words in my mouth) b&c is completely unexcusable.

it's team feminism until its a woman who doesn't fit your little box of badass hottie. it's team feminism until that woman doesn't bow down to rhae-rhae and betray her own family and children in order to join the 'good side.' it's team woman until you point out that rhaenyra was groomed by daemon and continues to make decisions that are decidedly anti-feminist.

this is why i can't stand team black stans who say things like 'i hate the greens except for helaena bc she didn't do anything wrong' because you quite literally cannot do that without admitting that helaena suffered because of the blacks NOT the greens.

helaena suffered bc of DAEMON not because of any actions taken by the greens. DAEMON was the one who orchestrated b&c, the one who sent men to terrorize her and kill her children.

daemon did that.

i have no problem with people who can admit that their faves have flaws. i admit aemond's flaws, daeron's flaws, aegon's flaws. the problem i have with daemon is that his stans are so insufferably annoying and they literally cannot do any of that.

my last thought about daemon (at the moment, at least) is his relationship with strong boys.

lots of tb likes to say that daemon loved those boys like his own and would never do anything to hurt them. and i... honestly find it a little strange, and also a little embarassing, because how am i going to have a better grasp on his character than those that love him most???

i genuinely believe that daemon, had rhaenyra ascended to the throne like viserys planned, he would have caused 'unfortunate accidents' for the strong boys in order to get his blood on the throne. which, btw, was one of the main reasons viserys named rhaenyra heir, to keep daemon from sitting on the throne.

i think it the succession crisis had been between daemon and rhaenyra instead, it would have been a much more interesting storyline.

then again grrm isn't that good at writing interesting storylines when it comes to daemon considering he's a self-insert. honestly i wouldn't be surprised if when he died it was found out that grrm had a fanfiction written somewhere where daemon survived the fight with aemond and got to live out the rest of his boring ass life grooming little girls. who knows.

#anti daemon targaryen #anti daemyra #asks #anti team black #anti hotd #hotd critical #pro team green

23 notes · View notes

hoodharlow · 1 year

Text

August'22

AN: I had a wholeass chapter including everything that happened in August but I wasn't feeling it so I made an insta au <3 also Mack is their 'ship' name lol

Warnings: rude fans and thirst traps/ comments

@'jackharlow via Instagram Stories (August 2nd)

(August 3rd)

@'mdm: my man took me to see the loml

@'jackharlow: i took you to see your WHO

->@mdm: you heard me 😌

@'kehlani: my muse 🥵

->@mdm: love of my life 🥺

@'lilnasx: my parents

@'zendaya: I can't with you 😭

@'bellahadid: pretty girl 💕

@'haileybieber: gorggg

@'jennaortega: mom and dad

View all 17,334 comments

(August 6th)

@'mdm: to quote the great @'stormreid been a fan. loose; sylvia & pickupthephone >> y’all don’t know nun bout that lmao.

@'stormreid: you're so real 😌🤞🏻

@'saintclauds: you told the chat you were gonna post the video from my snapchat where you couldn't stop laughing at what he was saying

->'mdm: why are you always so keen on exposing my ass 😭😭😭

@'jackharlow: my favorite fan

-> @'mdm: who said I was a fan?

@'shloob: throwback to when jack was all broody bc miriam left

-> @'claybornharlow: ?

-> @'yungskylark: jack and miriam met a long time ago and they didn't know until we were in New Zealand lmao

@'djdrama: jackie boy made it

@'haterfan: miriam could do better and the first pic proves it

->@'mdmxjack: y'all are so mean and weird for thinking you can just talk about people’s looks like that

@'russfan: mid rapper

-> @'jackfan: I know a Russ fan isn't talking lmaooo

View all 38,664 comments

(August 8th) Jack wrote Backstage Passes with EST. Gee

(August 13th)

@'jackharlow: thanks for inviting the gang @'louisvillecityfc

@'jackharlow: miriam wanted me to show off her outfit

@'rudefan: why is she always there? she never lets him have fun on his own or with his friends 🙄

-> @'antimack: no literally, doesn't she have auditions to steal from hardworking people like Sydney Sweeney

-> @'mackaremyparents: the way y'all are foamimg at the mouth bc Jack's gf is spending time with him 🤡

@'mdm: damn my chichis look good

-> @'jackharlow: they look better in my mouth

-> @'lilnasx: aye cool it, we get y'all are fucking

-> @'mdm: we're not fucking, I'm a virgin 😇

-> @'jackharlow: were you doing on your knees earlier?

-> @'mdm: praying

@'katdominguez: are those my boots?

-> @'mdm: they didn't fit your lacienga boulavardez sized feet

@'winnieharlow: okay Miriam 🔥

View all 32,638 comments

(August 27th) Miriam with @'tyleralvarez via Instagram Stories

(August 28)

@'jackharlow: four awards and my favorite 4x4 meal

@'mdm: what does this even mean 😭

@':theestallion: Jack can you fight? I'll send my man

@'mdm: he can't but say the word and I'm yours 🥰🥰🥰

@'mackfan: the pool picture 🥺

@'mackhominguez: does anyone know why Miriam wasn’t there?

-> @'mdmupdates: she was in ATL all week working on her new show. @'tyleralvarez posted on his story that they had night shoots last night

@'rudefan: y'all notice she wasn't at the VMAs? She was probably jealous that she wasn't going to be in the spotlight. I hate how no matter what she always gets mentioned. I want better for Jack. It's sad to see him go from this carefree guy to some guy that has to bring up his gf. It's so obvious it's PR

->@'Miriamstan: I lost brain cells trying to comprehend what this says

@'hater: mid rapper, mid girl

->@'jackfan: imagine calling Jack anr Miriam mid

@'giahunter: Miriam's 25% whiteside is showing, look at her wearing shoes in a BED

@'jackfan: damn who would have known Miriam had all that ass 🥵🥵🥵

-> @'mackshipper: everyone who can see

View all 23,765 comments

Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezyxo @youngharleezy @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @whywontyoulovemecami @meyocoko @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @a-moment-captured @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract

#jack and miriam #jack harlow smut #jack harlow #jack harlow instagram au

226 notes · View notes

somebluemelodies · 8 months

Text

i love that there’s an ongoing theme with a lot of the qsmp ships (especially the canon/close to canon ones) that is just this typically serious, nonchalant character - likely with a heavy/angsty backstory - and a character who’s oftentimes silly/chaotic, dramatic, or simply exudes wet cat energy, with or without the angsty backstory

i’m mainly looking at spiderbit, fitpac, and pissa/phissa- read my nonsensical ramble under the cut-

spiderbit!! you have q!Cellbit: a former child solider and an ex-convict from Alcatraz bc he was a cannibal and essentially a crazed serial killer. and his husband is q!Roier, who spent his earlier days on the island flirting with anyone and everyone, has Drama Queen™️ tendencies, and has an alter-ego who lives a double life as a stripper and psychologist. i don’t think Chafaland is canon so we don’t have much of a pre-island backstory for him, if one at all. granted, q!Cellbit we all know that sometimes has the wet cat or chaotic moments, so different dynamics can be interchanged between these two

fitpac!! q!Fit comes directly from the anarchy hellscape known as 2b2t, and as far as i’m aware, has spent most of if not all of his life there. led wars, killed a shit ton of people… yknow, all that jazz. literal war veteran. and yet!! who softens him and literally makes him fucking blush but none other than q!Pac. yes, q!Pac literally got his leg eaten and was also put into Alcatraz but up until he got kidnapped a couple weeks ago, the sheer chaos of this man?? regardless of the angst?? and now he’s slowly healing and getting back to normal too?? a silly lil inventor guy fr

pissa (why was this the chosen ship name again?)!! idk what the hell is going on with q!Phil’s backstory other than that he’s an/the Angel of Death, so there’s whatever angst and/or drama that comes with that. but this man just wants to chill and take care of his kids. and then… you have q!Missa… the MOST pathetic wet cat (/affectionate) on the entire island. and yknow what? i love him for that! the way this man has acted with q!Phil since he returned? i don’t even think i need to elaborate

but on a more serious note tho, i love that the relationships can (and do) run so much deeper too

i’ve talked about spiderbit plenty, but i’ll keep talking about them bc they just mean sm to me. the way they balance each other out and complement each other, the way they’re always there for each other. the way their relationship is so heavily built on trust. these two have so much love and commitment for each other it’s almost sickening. meus pais </3

fucking fitpac man they grew on me so fast :’D there’s a certain depth and potential with them that makes me crazy. they way they could (and do) help each other and always look out for each other. the way that they, regardless of inadvertently or intentionally, help each other heal from all the baggage they each carry is just… ough. i need them to become canon at this point idc. they’re both clearly into each other i don’t make the rules. THE POTENTIAL

i really hope we get more pissa bc it’s literally so crystal clear they care about each other, regardless of how much distance or how much time has passed. and that’s big. just like fitpac, there’s so much potential with them too, even if their marriage is platonic. i just wanna see their dynamic explored more please and thank you. it’s been so long </3

ANYWAY that’s… whatever this was. did this make any sense? idk. these gay cubitos man, i’m telling you. gotta love the lgbtqsmp. if you read all that, thanks :D

#the things this server does to my brain chemistry #insane #anyways here’s to the cubitos and their love lives #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #spiderbit #qsmp fit #qsmp pac #fitpac #qsmp phil #qsmp missa #pissa #qsmp

110 notes · View notes

2braincellslz · 1 year

Note

request for billy x (trans?)male reader do whatever you want with it >:3

Tell Me, Sweetheart.

Gif by avenging-fandoms

Desc: you, your friend, and Billy hang out for the day after ditching school. After a bit, Billy gets you alone he tells you how he really feels in a unnaturally soft moment.

Ship: Billy Hargrove x Male Reader fluff

Warnings: a very small reference to looking feminine, gets kinda steamy at the end, not reviewed, tread lightly bc I cant remember everything.

Notes: V exited for this. I'm also quiet proud. I might write a second part later if yall want. Probably one of my longest fics. Also, I tried to make it fit in to both Trans readers and Cis so-

Y/n tapped his pencil against the desk. If he had to listen to one more person drone on about their 'historical hero', he was going to lose his mind.

He glanced around the class and noticed that a few faces were missing. Richard who he knew was sick. Linsey who had 'gone to the bathroom' with her boyfriend, Mitch. Keith who was most likely skipping and stoned. And ofcourse, Billy.

Y/n was sure Billy only showed up once maybe twice to class.

Y/N knew Billy. Well, 'knew' wasnt the correct world. He had spoken to Billy maybe once or twice. He complimented Y/ns car once. Y/n had made a joke to his basketball friends and Billy laughed, patting Y/N on the shoulder. Y/N was very proud of that. He would never admit. Hell, if he did admit it, who knew what would happen. Probably, the worst possible outcome. So, the only option was to be his friend. But you couldn't right now while you were listening to fucking Timmy Little rant about Alexander Hamilton.

"Can I use the bathroom, Ms?" Y/n asked, standing up.

"Raise you hand, Mr. L/n. But yes. Make it quick." She waved you off.

You nodded, glancing to your friend with a smile. He smiled back with a wink.

Once out of that classroom, you huffed, crossing your arms. You paced a little bit, glancing around a bit to make sure there was no teachers walking by.

"Hey, man." You friend shut the door behind him.

"Hey, dork. Wanna hit up the mall or a convent store?" Y/n asked, walking with your head down as he pulled out a pack of new cigs.

"Mall. Definitely the mall." You handed your friend a cig before pulling out your own.

"Mall it I- oof" y/n had walked in to something. Something? No, someone.

He quickly backed up, looking up. "Eh, sorry uh..." it was Billy. Why did it have to be Billy?

"Sorry Billy." Y/n said, staring at him.

"Hey, dont worry about it." He smiled, taking one of your cigarettes. "Light?"

"Oh yeah." Y/n pulled out his lighter, holding it up for Billy.

"Thanks." And then he left.

Y/ns friend watched as Billy walked away and then glanced over at you.

"Really? Billy?" Y/ns friend (who's name was Justin) knew about your interests. Knew you were fruity.

"Shut up!" Y/n laughed, shoving Justin away. "What's wrong with Billy?"

"What's wrong with Billy? What isnt? You have no chance and even if you did shoot your shot, he would... well."

"Yeah, But hes pretty." You smiled and you both burst out laughing.

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

Justin and Y/n sat in YNs car. Y/n groaned as he tired the key again only to be met with the sound of the car struggling to start.

Y/n shiged, sitting back in his chair. "Great. My car is dead."

"We could walk?" Justin suggested, also sitting back.

"We would have to walk all the way back here and we would still have a dead car."

"So we are shit out of luck?"

"Yep..."

Y/n let his head fall back with a loud shigh. Might aswell just go back in and stay in class.

Suddenly, there was a tap on YNs side of the car, causing him to sit up, startled.

Yn looked over, expecting a very angry teacher, but it was only Billy. Yn let out a long shigh and fell back in yn his seat.

Billy let out a chuckle. "You need help?" He smiled.

"Yes. God, yes. Thank you."

He steped back and YN steped out. Yn glanced over at Justin. He raised his eye brows and smiled, giggling.

You rolled your eyes and closed the door.

"Sorry. I didnt know the batter was so low. I let a friend borrow it the other day and... well now it's dead... "

"Dont worry about it, sweetheart."

Yn nodded. Then pause. Sweetheart? What was that about? Did he mean it? Was it a joke? Was he waiting for a reaction? Did he think Yn was... no. Definitely not. YN looked back over at Justin who just shrugged. Guess he didnt hear.

YN looked back back over at Billy, setting up the jumper cables. Jesus, who knew such a simple task could look so... Hot.

Billy steped back from the cars and then go in to his own. He started up the car and then your cat was shocked to life.

Billy got out of his car. "There you go, babe. Where are you heading."

Yn watched as Billy lick the back of his teeth. He had such strong eye contact, it was making YN nervous.

"Oh um, we are going to the mall. Probably going to buy something nice or whatever."

"The mall, huh? Mind if I tag along." Billy shut the door and walked around to your car, resting his arms on top of the car.

"Um. Yeah, definitely!" Yn smiled. Yn could felt Justin's eyes boring in to his head but Justin can trip on a knife.

Billy climbed in to the back seat and you got back in to the drivers. You rushed out of the school parking lot, desperately praying to whatever god there was that no teachers saw.

"Mind if I play something?" Billy asked, leaning over the center console to pull out the tape yn had in and push in his own. Rock filled the car. Justin was quick to sing along followed by Billy and YN.

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

After a quick drive to the mall, the three of them got out and started toward the mall. YN walked between the two, joking with Justin as Billy took out a cigarette. Before he knew it, Billy's arm was being wrapped around YN's shoulder. Yn didnt say anything, though he felt like he was going to faint, but he did silently tell Justin to 'Fuck off!' When he started giving YN the 'ooooo' eyes.

Billy walked around the mall etheir touching YN, holding YNs arm to show YN something, with his arm wrapped around YNs shoulder, or very close to YN. Maybe he left YNs side once or twice but it was very rare.

YN was dying little by little. A guy the YN had a crush on for some time was finally showing him affection. It didn't help that Justin had taken it apon himself to make it worse for his so called 'best friend'.

The group found themselves in the food court eating the food the Billy payed for. Billy was right next to YN, their shoulders were practically touching. YN payed no mind as he tried to finish his burger.

Billy had finished a bit ago, not getting much else other then a thing of fries. YN watched as Billy glanced around the food court, winking at a group of girls that were also most definitely skipping. YN went back to his food, completely focused of the damn good burger he was practically making out with. That was until he felt a pressure on his thigh. He looked down to see Billy's strong hand resting there, gently rubbing his thumb across YNs jeans.

YNs face was definitely tomato red. He glanced over from Billy to Justin. Justin gave a knowing smiled before going back to his nuggets.

Billy wasnt even looking at YN . He was talking to a blond at the next table over. He gave YNs thigh a quick squeeze, almost telling him the Billy really was here just for YN.

Yn swallowed hard and went back to his burger.

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

School had ended by the time you droped Justin off at home. Lucky bastard lived with his girlfriend so he didnt have to worry about nagging parents like you.

Billy had switched seats for the ride home. Arguing that because he would be switching to the front when Justin left, it only made sense that he would take the front. He also called shot gun.

So there YN was, driving back to the school to drop Billy off at his car.

"Hey sweetheart." Billy piped up, turning down the music. "Turn here."

Yn slowed, eyeing where he wanted you to turn. It was a dirt path that led down to the creak. YN and Justin would go there sometimes to get high and skip stones and bitch about life.

Yn shrugged and pulled in to the drit road, driving down a bit till he couldn't drive anymore, being stoped by the trees.

YN stopped the car, Billy was already gone, walking down the path to the creek.

Yn got out of the car, catching up to Billy. They walked in silence down to the creek. Yn occasionally glanced over at Billy who was stone faced, staring forward.

Today was a fever dream. Billy has never talked to YN before today and yet Billy was treating him like his best friend. More then his bestfriend.

The walk to the water wasn't long. Soon, they were sitting by the creek. Occasionally someone would throw a rock in to the water.

"Billy... um, why have you been so... uh..." YN swallowed. He could feel Billy's eyes staring. Yn tried to force the words out of his mouth but the right words weren't there.

"So?" Yn looked over at Billy who wore a soft smile.

"So...."

"Sweet on you?" Yn felt Billy's hand on hid back.

"Yeah."

"Why am I sweet on anyone?"

"You know I'm a guy, right?"

"Yeah."

Yn stared long in to Billy's eyes, waiting for someone to just out from the woods with a camera.

"I did know you swang that way." Yn chuckled, glancing over at the woods. Waiting.

But nothing happened. Yn's smiled fell, his lips parted slightly.

Billy took YNs chin in his pointer and thumb, guiding YN to look at him. "This isn't a joke, L/n"

"Not a joke?" Billy pulled YN closer, their noses just a inch apart. YNs face was burning red. So was Billy's.

"I see how to stare. You arnt suttle."

"You saw?" Your blush darkened.

"Every time you stared at my arms as I leaned over a girls desk. Every time you started at my lips when I smiled. The way you blushed as I laughed at your joke."

"Billy..." Yn mumbled, his voice dropping just below a whisper.

"Tell me. Tell me how much you want me. Tell me how much you need me." His voice was rough, sending shivers up YNs spine.

"I need you. You are so handsome and so perfect. I cant stop staring..." YN mumbled, glancing away from his eyes to his lips. He pulled YN closer, pressing his lips to YN's and a soft and tender kiss.

On of Billy's hands snake around the back of YNs neck, pulling him closer. The hand on his chin left and moved to YNs waist.

YNs arms moved to Billy's shoulders, resting loosely around neck.

Justin is going to lose his mind when he hears about this.

#bit fruity #billy harringrove #billy hargove x male reader #billy hargrove x male!reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy stranger things #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy x reader #stranger things s3 #stranger things fic #stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x male yn #billy hargrove x male!yn #billy hargrove x male #billy hargrove x trans male reader

297 notes · View notes

oopsiedaisymae · 2 days

Text

the audience for this post is like, the two people who have already seen it on discord, but nonetheless, i want to share.

my mc's name is winter. she's pretty straight-laced, logical, generally rule-abiding but will get into trouble if she finds herself lacking a challenge or something to keep her hands busy. on my obey me writing blog (cuz i have a twst one now too!) i have plans to write for her as an mc and ship her with solomon. but i ALSO have plans to write a winter x mc au and. i've been having some really good thoughts on that.

for starters, the general premise is that the exchange program accepted three being from each realm (which makes room for the angel oc i have brewing... 👀) and she's one of human exchange students. she's a self-taught sorcerer that's very much stuck at a beginner level, in part due to the fact that she had no idea all of this magical realm stuff existed before coming to the devildom. she applied for the exchange program in hopes to get more credits for her phd. obviously, she was not prepared for this situation, but she adapts pretty quickly and does well at RAD.

since it's a winter x reader au, winter lives at purgatory hall with the other exchange students. their dynamic is so wonderful to me-- in the house of misfits, she fits right in. she's an amateur writer, so she loves chatting with simeon over tea about novel ideas and eventually becomes a pretty faithful TSL fan. she's an exasperated solomon wrangler who dodges his cooking at every turn and is too prideful to ask the best sorcerer the human world has to offer for help with her magical studies. she's not all that fond of children, yet she finds herself protective of luke, letting down her guard to bake with him in the afternoons for all of their new friends. even raphael, someone she struggles to interact with (bc they're both oh-so-awkward) earbs her respect and affection over time as they're roped into shenanigans by their roommates. they make the dorm a home together.

but you? oh, how she's hopelessly in love with you.

in the chaos of the devildom, somehow her eyes are always drawn to you. she's not all that interested in making friends when she first arrives, dedicating all her energy to settling herself in the realm. but there's always things drawing you to each other. classwork, exchange program responsibilities, your growing camradarie with her roommates at purgaory hall. it's inevitable that you guys become friendly. she's awkward and always a bit stressed or nervous, but she's friendly enough in your interactions early on that you swap numbers about halfway through the year. groupwork turns into occasional text conversations, and eventually you're close enough to gravitate towards each other for a simple conversation at parties. by the time the exchange program ends, you're making promises to make time for each other in the human realm.

life happens. you guys keep up a friendship through texts and video calls. winter finds herself longing for an excuse to be intertwined in your life again. RAD was a rigorous school, but she'd do it all again to have an excuse to be dragged into late night study sessions with you. watching your life change from a small screen fills her with a strange sense of emptiness. when the call ends, do you still think about her?

your return to the devildom is revealed to her through a cheeky text from solomon. she's so incredibly *annoyed.* of course he'd use magic to steal you away and whisk you back to the devildom without her. oh, and simeon and luke are returning, too? lovely. the whole gang's meeting up eithout her. envious? never, she wouldn't stoop so--

she's jealous. obviously. there's some back and forth where he teases her (and makes her ask *politely* for his assistance) until he steps away for a moment to bribg her back to the devildom. finally, you're reunited!

it's in this stretch of time that she falls in love with you. oh, winter barnett, someone who adamantly denies herself pleasure in many forms, finds herself sickeningly subdued as she falls for you. once the realization hits her, it's like a poison has flooded her veins, leaving her in a stupor. she expected herself to be more resistant to the idea, but honestly... who is she to resist your charms? she knows you. she watched all seven of the demon brothers fall for you over the course of a year. it only feels natural to be drawn to you in the same way. you... so determined, so strong, resilent in the face of overwhelming chaos and somehow still standing at the end of it.

winter's a human. she's got a small farm in vermont and very mediocre magic to her name. she's not a famous demon, nor and angel, nor a powerful immortal. on some level, she knows she's not enough for you. maybe that's why she's content to keep her mouth shut for awhile.

maybe it's enough to sit quietly by your side, admiring your when you're not looking. maybe it's best to bide her time and hope that she can catch your eye one day. until then, she's content with the little things-- your smile, your texts, your laugh, the way you look at her from across the classroom and the way she's completely smitten against all odds.

#sorry this is a lot. i have so many thoughts about her #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me oc: winter barnett #daisy talks

14 notes · View notes

eudaimonia83 · 10 months

Text

For @elucienweekofficial 2023: sunshine prompt. (Could also fit the courtiers prompt.)

Title: OVER & UNDER

Word Count: 4890

Content Descriptors: tooth rotting fluff. SFW. No triggers, unless I missed something major…if so, please point it out to me and I’ll add it.

Summary: Elain, now living in the Day Court, is learning some symbolic braids for Lucien’s hair. I’m not great at one-shots 🫣 but I figured I’d try, bc these sweet bbys deserve some joy…even from yours truly, an anointed Duchess of Misery and Angst.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48505399

“Repeat after me: Solaris, Aeolish, Haelicon.”

Elain dutifully repeated the names, watching Corinda, Helion’s Chancellor of Rhodes, as she pulled out a copy of the list of tribes who had requested an audience with the High Lord. Or, failing that, the Sun Prince.

“Now tell me what you’d need to know about any of those, in a meeting.” Corinda examined her over the edge of the paper.

Elain recited, thinking, trying to balance her racing thoughts with the intricate movements she had to make with her hands. These damn braids…would they never behave…?

She realized she’d fallen silent and resumed her lesson. “The largest tribes of the shore and the sea, who possess wind magic that assists them in sailing and fishing.” She wound hair around her left hand, trying to complete the first few inches of the braid, which needed to adhere more closely to the scalp than the lower parts, if it was to serve to keep loose hair out of the eyes, or to act as an anchor for a hair piece. But the strands got caught around her little finger and anchored too loosely in the braid. She was tempted to curse, but Corinda, ever sharp and experienced and unfailingly courteous, would never stand for it.

“Yes.” Corinda’s mellifluous voice inflected up at the end, and Elain knew her answer to be incomplete. “But what will they likely ask for in an audience?”

Elain squinted and focused hard on the fingers of her right hand, where she held the comb that was creating the sections for the box braids. “Wider…access. For fishing rights. And docking privileges in ports and harbor islands.”

“Yes, and who would oppose them in such a request?”

“The harbor and quarter masters.” Elain thought of the reticent, dismissive pair they had just met with to discuss fees and safety concerns at the docks.

“Just so.” Corinda turned to select another dossier and frowned as it wasn’t the one she was searching for. “The harbor fae will not readily relinquish their access to the small islands, as they are a windfall in lightening fees for the larger ships. Not without a fee.”

“And the shore tribes don’t have that revenue,” Elain continued. “Not yet, anyway. Not unless they can also access the lightening docks at the outer harbors and ports.” The comb spun and dropped with a clatter to the tile floor as she tried to draw it toward the back of the section she’d created. She hissed in anger.

With a husky laugh, Corinda put down her dossier of commerce updates from the harbor, picked up the errant comb, and gave it back to her. “Hold the hair looser in your left hand, Princess. Then you can create a straight line more easily; let the strands escape as the comb guides them.”

They had been in the Solarium for hours now, struggling with horsehair and mannequins after the interminable meeting with the harbor fae. The rays were getting long over the Western Sea, and the Sun Tower’s bright beams could now be seen over the sun itself, sweeping gently across the darkening harbor. Elain had had dinner plans, but she’d canceled them in a burst of industriousness a few hours ago, and now she was regretting it, awash in frustration. Corinda watched her for a moment, then stood and with measured, precise gestures, lit tiny glowing lights in the hanging lamps. They created no heat but were still bright enough to hurt the eyes, when not concealed in their brass shades. But under Corinda’s gentle touch, the room flooded with a golden glow.

“How does anyone learn to do this?” Elain gritted between clenched teeth, carving against the rigid marble skull, decorated with a full head of sweeping horsehair after it was repurposed from a crumbling statue — all for her to practice this task. This thing that she so badly wanted to be good at. This thing she was beginning to fear she’d never master.

Corinda approached, observed for a moment, and nodded approvingly; then applied her strong, practiced fingers over Elain’s long and awkward ones. “It is only practice, Princess. Practice, and experience. It is kind of you to wish to learn this.”

“But I haven’t really learned it. And with all the other things you have to do? How did you master it?” Elain said, hearing the petulance in her voice and hating it. She sounded like a disappointed child.

Corinda smiled. “I worked at it for centuries. And be fair to yourself, for you have learned, Princess. Your braids are smooth now, even if your sections need work. And you don’t need the seed pod oil to make them shine now. To say nothing of the deference you command in meetings now.” She gathered up her papers and slid them in orderly rows into her leather pouch. Elain was constantly jealous of the chancellor’s organization; her calm, and the level of trust she inspired. Not only from Helion and the aristocrats who relied on her expertise, but the merchants and fae who had faith that she would mediate fairly on their behalf.

“But the braids — they mean things.” Elain twisted the strands she had separated the horsehair into, stroking them into three pieces — then adding them into an additional lock of horsehair for a thicker braid. She had braided her own hair many times, and even her sisters’ on occasion, but never with the damned extensions that got hopelessly tangled, and never in the complex geometric patterns that acted as an anchor for the coronet of the Day Court. She bit her lip, concentrating hard, and let out a frustrated sigh. “And I just want them to mean the right things. For anyone looking closely.”

Corinda laughed. “Yes, Princess, they mean things,” she said, her voice going softer, falling into incantation, intonation. “Long ago the world was built of rage and chaos, and we Fae had to find places we could hear the music of the world. We were wild ourselves, after all, and like all the creatures, looking for safety. And for our Solaris folk — the tribe of my ancestors — following the sun and the open blue of the sky, the solution was to plan routes through the darkness.” Her hand steadied Elain’s, pointing to a forgotten skein. Elain nodded and pulled it back in, the braid twisting naturally around the central fourth strand to create a spiral. Corinda pointed again, and Elain wound the skeins of hair together again. “The spiral represents the route up, and out. A stable way to navigate the chaos. We sailed, mile by perilous mile, into the light; but we never forget our time in the dark…or how easily we could slip backward into it.” She picked up the wire of a coronet, placing it on top of the braids Elain had painstakingly created, and winding each braid around the base to hold it steady. “And we brought the great treasures of Day with us; because beautiful things are a gestalt, a thing greater than the sum of its parts. They mean we made something important in our time on the earth. That’s our responsibility; to make things, and people, connect. Despite the differences.”

Elain was quiet, listening. She had heard it many times, and yet it never ceased to make her calm. To think of how the past affected the future, and the present lived in the fulcrum. How Lucien, in his own way, had lived that connection; forging upward out of chaos and darkness, scraping by on courage and hope, building something beautiful against all odds. The bond rolled against her ribs as she thought of him, purring like a contented kitten. That russet hair, the color so rich it was almost ruby; the bronze skin, aglow with the sunfire that was banked inside him; the gold eye that whizzed faster as his interest piqued and his mind sped to accommodate new information; the gleaming, mischievous smile, rarer these days as the responsibility of his position weighed on him, but all the sweeter for that. Thinking of him, how she wanted him to look on the day of the celebration, when he was presented to his people, she picked up the comb and leaned forward again, making little sections of hair under the golden light, as Corinda murmured encouragement and corrected her every now and then, twisting them and molding them into shapes that could make her Sun Prince unique. To show the Day Court — and all the other courts too, she thought with grim satisfaction — how it might be different. A new kind of High Lord with a new agenda. Step by step, she thought, twisting the hair around her fingers, determination writ large across her delicate features. Into the light.

“Are you going to the Common Market tonight?” Corinda asked.

Elain nodded.

“Be listening,” she said. “Their reactions to your rule will live in their talk, and in their tone. Some will not like our every choice, but if they see it as fair, you have won the day.” She closed her leather pouch with a snap and walked to the door. “And be thinking of what we will need to tell the Sun Prince on his return.”

————————

The shadows were long and blue in the alcoves, under the awnings, and the sound of the sea in the background was murmuring; calming, with an occasional creak and splash as a rope thudded against a dock or a sail was wound up to rest against a mast. It was a beautiful evening, cool and calm, and the white hulls of the boats against the dark bulk of the rocky harbor would be the final sight as the night sank over Rhodes. And here she was, with a purpose, with intelligence to gain, but only missing Lucien. Her heart twisted with longing for him. He’d been gone for almost a month now, up to the hill country, far from the city to avoid any danger from practicing with his sunfire; he’d gotten so much better at it, too, she reflected, remembering how only a few weeks ago it had rushed out of him so intensely that he’d kept the entire county at full daylight for almost two days. Helion had had to shield the city from the relentless sunlight, and announce to the public that the Sun Prince was learning to wield his emerging powers. Yesterday evening, as Elain had walked through the Common Market at the base of the city, breathing in the rich scent of the bougainvillea and the cinnamon trees, she had overheard many people talk about the constant glow to the East, which had faded to a dim arc over the horizon. The prince is learning fast, they’d said, chuckling. When Lord Helion acquired his full powers we were under constant noon sunlight for a week.

This prince is powerful, one old merchant had said. He holds back the sunset even before he is the High Lord.

May he hold back the darkness and danger as well, another had said, making the circular sign for safety over his heart as he handed Elain one of her favorite pastries, crusty with sugar and crackling crisp, the scent of fresh-ground coriander and cinnamon wafting up. She licked the lingering sweetness off her fingers, studying the heliotrope flowers that wound up the side of the pale walls of the Citadel. In their flowering season, the plants absorbed light from the relentless Day sun, and stayed softly glowing in the evening, continuing to attract their pollinators for a few extra hours into the night. Was it her imagination or were they brighter than they had been before? Perhaps the brightness was an indicator they were almost done flowering.

She climbed the steps to the Western Gate, where the guard let her in with a bob of his head and a muttered “good evening.” She went out frequently enough that the guards had stopped insisting on accompanying her long ago; most times, as she had in Velaris, she left through the servants’ entrances with her scarf draped around her head, but now she also kept a clever little glamour she’d learned from Helion over her face, and no one not looking closely would ever have recognized the Sun Princess wandering in the massive Common Market like a housewife. Elain loved the anonymity of it all, and how much she’d been able to explore. For the first time in her life, it felt like freedom. She’d wandered the winding streets, familiarized herself with the pier and the ships that went out on day journeys to fish or trawl, eaten lunch in the shadow of the Sun Tower. She’d made friends with the dairy merchants and the bakers, who now saved her her favorite items and called her over for spirited bargaining, which had embarrassed Elain until she realized it was an elaborate game to which all were privy. And so much more besides.

She’d eaten oysters fresh from the bay with salt and lemon, the acid stinging her tongue and the flavor of the ocean bursting in her mouth…bought twisted paper packets of spices more precious than gold whose scent scorched her nostrils…stained her hands in the buckets of rich indigo and violet dyes…and once been gifted a white silk scarf of a weave so fine it was almost transparent, edged with golden threads. The merchant, a female with faceted, jewel-like eyes and skin of glimmering gold, had nodded at her with odd familiarity and refused payment.

She’d seen barefoot urchins with wings of obsidian black fluttering around pelting each other with refuse, smelters hammering at copper pots and urns, the sick and destitute clustering around the hospitals, distinguished old ladies hard at work on the great looms making the lush textiles that Rhodes was famous for, even lewd street performers impersonating her and Helion and Lucien. Elain had been shocked at first, and had told everyone about the little pantomime with cheeks burning; but Helion had only roared with laughter over it all. Corinda had chuckled and said, “The people may mock you on occasion, Princess, but their hearts are with you. Else you’d see much more violent and angry displays, instead of just tasteless comedies.”

Elain pulled back her hood as she passed under the gate, the white limestone gleaming in the last of the light, and with a smoothing motion over her face, removed the glamour. Her curls fell from the hood and she briefly shook them in the breeze, relishing the touch of the wind against her neck…and then a familiar twinge against her ribs. She opened her eyes just as a bright light spilled from a room on the second floor, doors flung wide to the inner courtyard. Her room.

She knew instantly what it meant, and it sped her steps into a frenzy, all tiredness forgotten, breaking into a run up the stone stairs. She raced along the wide hallway with its generous arches and fluttering curtains and the ribboning bougainvillea vines she had braided with jasmine and coaxed into bloom. Skidding to a stop, she burst through the door into her room, alight with a globe of drifting sunfire so bright it hurt her eyes — and as she threw up her hand to shade her face, arms caught her around her waist, and pulled her in. To him. To his solid, lean frame, warm and welcoming. To his scent, pomegranate and whiskey, ribboned sweet with her own honey and jasmine, just as overpowering to her senses as ever he was.

I missed you, was all she could think as he kissed her, her relief and joy rendering her close to senseless, his lips firm against hers, hands gentle on her neck and waist. Gods, I felt your absence like my own heart was gone from my body. Her arms circled his neck and crushed him to her, and he laughed, lifting her up and spinning her around. The little lock in her heart that shut tight when he had to be away opened with a snap, flooding her chest with warmth, adding fierce desire to her kiss. He broke away after a moment to catch his breath, and she leaned in, greedy for him, her teeth snagging his lower lip.

“Wait. Look,” he whispered, and nodded toward the globe of light bathing them both in radiance. With one hand open, he dimmed it so the shadows lengthened, and his hand glowed as he pulled the sunfire back into his flesh in an incandescent stream, then banked it into a golden gleam that lit his hand enough that she could see the bones and veins inside it.

“You…you can control it,” she whispered, and tucked her face against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. Last she’d seen him, nearly a month ago, he could call it up but could not pull it back, only hold on to it with arms extended, waiting for his control to rupture before rays shot out in every direction. He was so calm now. Gods, she loved seeing him like this. Expert. Finessed. Magnificent.

He made a noise of dissent and kissed her hair. “I can control it better,” he said. “Not entirely. It’s gotten away from me many times. But it…answers to me more easily now. Like I have a dragon on a leash, and sometimes it eats from my hand.”

“What happens when it gets away?” she asked, tangling her fingers with his, gazing at the pulsing light that beat inside his nail beds.

He cast his eyes down, shamefaced. “I dried up a river by accident…and blasted a field of sunflowers to ash. At first I wondered if that was partially the Autumn fire, but Helion said no, the sunfire burns brighter and is more likely to scorch.”

“But you can dim it and brighten it now, according to your will?”

“Most times, yes,” he said. His arms tightened around her. “As soon as I could do that, I knew it’d be safe to come see you…to tell you how much I missed you, and how often I thought of you…”

“Don’t tell me,” she interrupted, threading her fingers into his hair. “Show me.”

He needed no further invitation to extinguish the remaining glow, plunging them into darkness and surrendering to the bond, which was its own dragon on a leash between them, roaring with a deep and insatiable need.

And now it would feast.

————————

Hours later, the sky was pale with the coming dawn. Elain awoke slowly, surfacing as if through deep water, limbs languid and wound in the sheets. She turned over to her side to face Lucien, who was still fast asleep on his stomach, arm splayed toward her. She smiled at him fondly, reaching out to push back the coil of hair that had fallen across his face and fluttered in the quiet breath from his nose and mouth. He grunted and buried his face in the pillow, and she almost laughed aloud; there were times when she felt she could see how he had been as a child or a youth, groggy in the morning and wild at night.

“Wake up,” she whispered, and ran her finger down the back of his neck.

“Mmmfff.”

She turned her finger slightly so her fingernail sliced into the groove of his spine, right between the angle of his shoulder blades. She couldn’t suppress a giggle when she saw goosebumps bubble along the skin of his bare back. “Wake up, prince of Day.”

He huffed a gusty sigh that lifted his back muscles up, and her mouth went dry as sand at the sight of his bronze skin, bare in the sparse light. She watched little patches of golden light crackling along his ribs as he breathed. “You’re going to miss the sunrise…”

His arm shot out and scooped around her waist, and she went down with a squeal as he rolled, tunneling into the sheets with her, holding her flush against him. “This is a better view,” he whispered. “Brighter than the eastern sun on the horizon.”

Overcome, she tilted her head towards him, pushing against him. Her face fit right into where his neck and shoulder met; he let out an undignified squawk as she scraped her teeth there, catching some of his skin between her incisors. “Stop, or I can’t be blamed for what I do next,” he laughed.

“You think I fear you?”

“You should. I’ve never known you to not succumb to this…” he wiggled his fingers firmly against her abdomen and she doubled up, breathless with giggles.

“Stop, Lucien, stop!” He did, brushing a kiss to her chest; she heaved with laughter. “I just…you’re such a scoundrel, and a mess.”

“Funny, Helion says the same thing,” he groaned, flopping sideways. “And after that river dried up I thought the same thing too.”

She kissed the notch of his collarbone. “My poor Sun Prince. I wasn’t trying to shame you, really; I only meant your hair was a mess, not you yourself.”

“My hair?”

“You haven’t braided it in weeks, clearly,” she said, combing her fingers through it until she hit a snarl, then picked at the tangle with her nails. “Let me?”

He hesitated. “It takes a while,” he said finally. “The braids I usually wear aren’t just the simple ones.”

“I know,” she said, and a grin crept onto her face. “I’ve been practicing.”

“You have?” His eyes went round with surprise. “When have you had time for that?”

“Corinda was teaching me in between meetings. Sometimes as we reviewed for audiences with the merchants and the guilds. It was useful to help keep my statistics and facts and figures straight. While you were taming a few sunbeams, I’ve learned to keep my hands and my mind busy at the same time, you see,” she teased. “And now I just can’t let you look scruffy.”

“I thought you liked me scruffy.”

She relented. “I do. But…maybe I just want that Lucien to be my Lucien. Outside of here you’re the Sun Prince. And you’re changing things, and the people can feel it, and they hope to be able to trust you. I want them to see you that way. Only here…” she tilted her head and nuzzled his throat gently. “Only here will you be all unraveled, and messy, and mine. It’s the only way I can bear to share you. And so I feel it’s only fair that I should help present you to the court.”

He swallowed, and his eye went bright; even the gold one got a bit of extra sparkle. He released her and sat up, shaking his head until the red locks stood out from his head like a mane. “Then show me what you’ve learned, Blossom.”

She pushed up onto her elbows, excitement sparking through her. “Truly?”

“I can’t wait to see your new talents,” he said, and stood up, reaching out for her hands to pull her from the bed. “And to hear all the business of Rhodes as well.”

She seized her white robe from the foot of the bed and swung it around herself, already padding eagerly across the tile on her bare feet to the wardrobe, in search of her comb and the seed pod oil to keep the hair sections neat. Lucien pulled on his breeches, discarded on the floor since last night, and watched her with amused affection as she bustled around setting things up. Finally she took a seat on an overstuffed ottoman, and motioned for him to sit in front of her, tossing a cushion onto the floor. He obligingly sat before her, arms draped over her knees, and leaned back as her hands plunged into his hair, combing through it, smoothing his scalp, dividing the bright russet locks into pieces.

He hummed contentedly, deep in his chest, as the comb sectioned the hair at the front of his head. “How have the meetings with Corinda gone?”

“Fairly well,” she said, her brows pinching in concentration as she began twirling the hair and flipping the skeins over and under, over and under. “The guild of the Solaris fishermen wants fishing rights in the bay, but Corinda says they would settle for shared waters between us and the Western Islands as long as…” she trailed off.

“As long as what?…ouch.” He turned his head to look at her and she swatted him on the ear as she tightened the braid she was working on.

“Don’t move your head,” she said sharply. “As long as their boats can move in and out of Summer Court harbors.”

“That would involve a treaty with Tarquin and spells to make the maritime border passable,” Lucien murmured. Her hands on his head made his eyelids heavy.

“Yes,” she said, crisply, twisting the braid and securing the end before picking the comb up and starting the next one. “And their catch migrates seasonally through the oceans without difficulty, so if the minnows can manage it, and the summer silverfish, why not you?” She dropped a kiss atop his head. “You are the son of the spellcleaver.”

“Hm.” He seemed at a loss for words. “Would that not overstep my authority?”

She shrugged. “If it does, then you can allow Helion to negotiate it as he sees fit. And you will still have the harbor and shore fae’s respect for bringing their concerns to the highest audience.”

He quieted as he thought about it. She teased three skeins of hair from the other side of his head and guided them back over the loose hair. “These braids mean things, you know.”

“Yes,” he said. “In Autumn they refer to your battle prowess. And your rank.”

“I mean here, in Day,” she said. “They represent triumph over adversity. Corinda’s told me some things; I don’t know all of them. But there’s a legend of Solaris people escaping from a great darkness across the sea, where they had come from a garden of plenty who had fallen under the shadow. They had to leave or risk enslavement. So they came east toward the rising sun. They had to fight all manner of monsters for their freedom; and then leave with nothing but ropes and sailcloth and a little food and water.” She pulled the strands into a spiral. “They brought the crown with them — representing sunbeams reaching toward them. And settled in a new place. But they stayed by the sea. To build their lives where they could see where they came from and where they were going.”

She fitted the crown on the top of his head, and wound the braids around it, anchoring it securely in place. Then she pulled another, smaller strand in front of his ear and began to braid that, looser than the top braids. “Your Autumn braids at the sides,” she said softly. “And your Day crown on top. A prince who crosses borders and courts, who lived with the people no one else cares about. You know where you come from. And where you’re going.”

He went very still. Barely breathing. She tightened the last braid and tied it with the bright blue leather band he favored.

“Look at you,” she said, and her hands slid down to his shoulders. “My prince. Of sunshine and fire.”

He sat up straighter, until she handed him a mirror. “The braids could be better,” she said. “I’m working on it. But I’ll have it perfected before the presentation ceremony.”

He stared at himself in the mirror. In the crown. He’d never worn it before, and on his head, it seemed to stand taller, shine brighter, as if the gold soaked up his sunfire and stretched upward toward the source of the light itself. The gold spikes shot up above the braids, which were gleaming and, despite her self-deprecation, only slightly crooked. He was only a chiton and a cloth-of-gold scarf away from the full symbolic costume of the heir. She knew all the moments from before were weighing on him from the way the bond ached in her chest.

“I love you,” she said, hoping it was what he needed to hear, because it was the truth, in all its weight and simplicity. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grasped her hand and squeezed it; then angled the mirror to catch her face above his. “I could not be prouder of you. I couldn’t do any of this without you.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “Do you know how much I love you? What you mean to me, Elain?”

She bent forward, her bronze-gold curls mingling with the remaining loose red locks around his shoulders.

“Yes,” she said, her smile brighter than the dawn. “I’m your new hairdresser.”

He burst out into a wet laugh. “I’m afraid it will only add to your burdens, my love.”

“I swore to bear them with you,” she said. He rose and pulled her to stand, the comb and the mirror dropping forgotten to the floor. “I meant it.”

His only answer was to wrap his arms around her again, as the first rays of the sun broke the horizon and struck the gold cupola atop the Sun Tower.

#acotar #elain archeron #elucien #fanfic #lucien vanserra #prythian #elucienweek2023 #day court #sunshine bbys

69 notes · View notes