#but yeah he’s so pretty?! the lashes and sea green eyes are just beautiful >//<

[pinkmirth]

he’s the cutest boy ever >.<

#rinnnn ❤︎ #eremika love child ooooh >.< #he has his daddy’s eyes and everything else is from his mother lol! mikasa’s genes took OVER #but yeah he’s so pretty?! the lashes and sea green eyes are just beautiful >//< #gonna continue watching blue lock just for him (after putting it off for like a year) #꒰ঌ rambles.ᐟ ໒꒱ #꒰ঌ blue lock.ᐟ ໒꒱ #ৎ୭ ⨾ rin.ᐟ #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #bllk #blue lock

[monst]

Could you write a smutty fic with drunk Hawks dancing and grinding with fem reader at a club?? Ty!

Maneater

Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Warnings: Sexy time themes, Alcohol, Grinding, and Publicish sex (Again.. this was supposed to be a short thirst post but semi-plots happen)

- There’s a reason why Hawks doesn’t get smashed...

               Your lips closed over the metal stick, teeth sinking into the plush green flesh of the olive. You let your tongue roll over the thin toothpick as you continued to observe the man. His fingers raked back wheat colored strands as his lean body swayed with the music. A relaxed grin stretched his pale pink lips as, yet another person neared him. They’re lips moved as they danced, and you could see the amusement swimming in his whisky eyes.

               You sipped at your drink as you watched the hero make a puddle of his new partner. The dark-haired male seemed to melt; his face engulfed in a blazing inferno. It was always the same, someone would approach him, they’d dance, and he’d whisper obscenities in their ears. But as soon as they motioned the bar area the conversation would dip and with the atmosphere soured, they’d shuffle away. You were incredibly curious as to why he didn’t take even a sip.

               But today you were going to change that. You were going to do the impossible and get the winged hero incoherently smashed. See you had something none of the others who’ve tried. What was that something? Your quirk seduction. Once activated it drew whoever was subjected to it in. They’d drown in the depths of your eyes and your voice would melt away any type of wall of resistance. And today was the day that you’d use it for a bit of mischievous fun.

               You adorned the raciest outfit you owned, the material enhancing your body’s natural beauty. The makeup you wore complimented your skin, all in all you looked absolutely stunning. And a coquettish smile flattered your painted lips as you rejected offers of drink, dance, and company. You had done this for weeks, purposefully situating yourself on a stool that allowed you to view the party goers. To others you looked like a goddess who drank alone but Hawks knew who you were.

               You were patient. He’d give you that. His eyes would immediately slide over towards your form as soon as he’d enter the club. (Lastname) (Name) a morally gray person known to others as ‘Maneater’. As far as he could see you were harmless, dangerously gorgeous but relatively harmless, nonetheless. Rumor had it you went from club to club in search of the perfect prey. You’d toy with whoever it was, and what seemed to be your favorite joy was to get people hammered with the promise of a taste of your lips.

               However, after you’ve had your thrill, you’d call them a cab and vanish from the club. Naturally, he was intrigued, he’s heard that you haven’t ever been denied. And, that’s why he was there, that’s why his feet moved to the beat of the music. He wanted to ruin your track record. The thought brought a grin to his lips. However, as of late his confidence began to waver. He’d been coming to this club for over three months and not once had you indicated that you were interested.

               At times he’d swear he’d catch you staring but when he looked your sultry gaze was elsewhere. He’d watched as you left disappointed from the club and at first he thought it may have been because he didn’t give you the time of day but he was beginning to think it was because you didn’t think of him as a challenge. He didn’t like that. So, he figured that the only way to make you see that would be by approaching you absentmindedly.

               Your lips curved as you noticed your prey come closer; ‘Works every time’. You feigned disinterest when he sauntered over. Large crimson quills filled your view as he leaned on the counter of the bar to order something. You blinked at the obstruction of vision.

               “Sir?” You questioned.

               “Long island.” He ordered completely ignoring you. ‘Oh~ So he’s going to do that?’ You were absolutely enthralled ‘this one’s going to be really fun~”

               You reached out your fingers, the tips of them grazing against the surprisingly soft plumage. He shivered at the gentle caress. ‘Cute’ You waved when he turned towards you, then proceeded to point at the wall of wine that covered your view of the floor.

               “Oh, shit sorry.” His grin oozed sincerity.

               “Your fine.” You hummed. “You did spook me for a moment there.” You giggled bringing your lips to the rim of your glass. Then a long stretch of silence pressed down on the both of you, that was until you decided to crack the egg.

               “You know.” You began, the timbre of your voice immediately bringing his attention towards you. “This is the first time I’ve seen you order a drink.”

               His tan brows shot up towards his hairline. You’d been watching him, and the smile that played at your lips let him know that he had just lost the first round by approaching you first. You were good.  

               “I’m not much of a drinker.” He shrugged. “Gotta make sure the senses aren’t dulled, you know a hero must always be alert.” He informed a toothy grin curving his eyes.

               “I’ll bet. Danger could be lurking anywhere~” You practically purred.

               “That it could.” He agreed, bringing the cocktail to his lips. ‘And I’m staring right at her’ He thought.

               The both of you watched as the crowd of bodies moved. Flesh glistening under the neon lights as some were practically cemented together. The pair of you made idle chit chat and with every connection of eyes Hawks could feel the effects of your quirk begin to tug at him. But a confident smirk pulled at his lips, he was sure you were going to fail.

               He had greatly underestimated you. Your enticing voice had coaxed heroic stories out of him. He rambled about villains and complained about attention all the while his drink slowly disappeared. It was only when the cocktail was ¼ of the way gone that you interrupted.

               “Is that any good?” Your finger pointed toward the amber liquid.

               “This?” You nodded; eyes wide in curiosity. “You’ve never tried it.”

               “I don’t usually order things I don’t know.” You mumbled your teeth pulling at your lip an action that intrigued the blonde more than it should have. He shifted his eyes and looked to the sea of people before asking why. “It’s expensive. Money doesn’t grow on trees you know~”

               That he could agree on. This place was impressively expensive, it was then that he realized that he wasn’t feeling the pull of your quirk. You must have burnt out. A triumphant smile crossed his visage as he handed you his drink. Your brows furrowed as you sniffed the beverage ever so slowly you tipped it back and once the liquid hit your taste buds your eyes lit up a hum escaping your throat.

               “This is really good.” You chimed. “You said it was a long Island, right? Hey? Can I get one of these?” The bartender got to work, and it was then that Hawks noticed that you had downed his drink and without a second thought he ordered another.

               “Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly. You gazed at him from underneath your lashes and decided to lower his guard even further. “You know, I know exactly what you’ve been up to right.”

               “I have no idea what your talking about.” He chimed; a bit surprised that you called him out.

               “You can drop the act, it’s a bit harder to use on someone who already knows what’s going on.” You pouted.

               Takami reveled in his victory. Clinking his glass against yours cheekily. Before he could come clean and rub it in you spoke again. “Yeah, yeah you won.” You rolled your eyes. “But there’s something else I want you for.”

               “And that is~” Takami wouldn’t lie, regardless of your quirk those words made his heart stutter. Even without your quirk you were definitely otherworldly.

               “This.” You pointed at your empty drink. “You have good taste; I want you to recommend some more.” You beamed.

               And that he did. You ordered everything he suggested, sampling them each. You’d occasionally pass a half empty glass to him asking if it was supposed to taste like that. In the midst of it all he found himself a bit buzzed. He was a big ass lightweight, but he was sure you didn’t intend to get him drunk. You seemed more engrossed in the alcohol asking the bartender for recipes and the like.

               “You sure can drink.” He mumbled as he set his current cocktail down.

               “So, I’ve been told. Just call it my second quirk” You winked playfully. “Ughhh Keigo have you tried this one?!”

               The way you enunciated his name sent shivers down his spine, but he had to decline. Anymore and he’d-

               “Oh, I’m sorry.” You frowned. “You’re at your limit, I wouldn’t want to force you. Your too fun to talk to, to be drunk.”

               Someone as amazing as you shouldn’t be frowning so sadly. “No, it’s fine, just a sip.” Were your eyes always this pretty? Realization hit him too late as he had drunk much more than he intended. A coy smile split your face as you leaned in closer.

               “You know.” Your fingers played with the scruff on his chin as you drowned him in your voice. “You’ve been so fun to play with.”

               Hawks leaned into your touch his thoughts slow and muddled as the buzz tangled with the intoxicating reverb of your voice. Your eyes enticed him further and he eagerly accepted the glass you held out towards him. At that moment he’d do anything you’d ask of him. You leered at the number two hero, giddy that you had managed to subdue such a great prize.

               But there was something you didn’t anticipate…. You weren’t ready to deal with a drunk bird…. As soon as he went past the point of no return, he became someone else. Usually you’d call security, but your arms were pinned to your sides as the blonde hero snuggled you. Happy coos escaped his lips. His wings encased you and he chirped excitedly.

               “(Name)~ C’mm dance wit mehh” He slurred. When you denied he teared up, amber eyes dripping with unbridled sadness. His bottom lip trembled in a pout as he gazed up at you. That cute tweedy bird look wouldn’t work……..

.

.

               His fingers entwined with yours and you felt your face heat up in regret. ‘Some people just aren’t meant to be drunk.’ Your tried to pry your gaze away from Keigo’s wiggling body. “This is so embarrassing” You mumbled as the hero fumbled around in a ‘dance’. You could leave him there, but he was your responsibility now… that and his grip on your hand was like iron.

               You watched as he made a fool of himself a bright saffron stretching across his cheeks. You were content with watching him dance, it wasn’t the worst thing you could have been subjected to. That and his excited smile was contagious. He was actually really cute and surprisingly good company. You allowed your body to loosen up and your body swayed gentle in contrast to his wild flailing.

               At one point the music slithered into your veins as your body grooved in time with the song. Your arms were raised above your head Kegio’s hand still in yours as you swayed your hips. You were really feeling the song, unaware of molten gold watching the sensual movements. Your eyes widened when you felt him step behind you, his hands sliding down your arms. They traced your figure and soon landed at your hips.

               You felt him press against your body and you weren’t opposed to it. You threw it back the plush flesh of your ass grazing against the fabric of his jeans. You whined against him your bum moving in time with the beat. Keigo moved against you grinding into you, mesmerized by the way you bent over. His tongue slithered out to wet his dry lips when you reached back up only to slide down his body.

               When you turned around to face him your breasts pressed against his chest and you rolled into his body. He was eager in his reply his body synchronizing with your movement, a grin tugged at his lips when he felt your fingers slip up underneath the tight material of his shirt. Your fingers toyed with the soft hairs trailing don his navel before coming up to explore the sinewy muscles of his abdomen.

               He took it as invitation to roam your own body. His fingers squeezed the flesh of your waist on hand tailing down to grab a handful of ass. Sweat shinnied off your bodies as you continued to breathe in the same air at how close you were. Keigo’s eyes burned your skin, that or it was becoming incredibly hot. He groaned when your teeth caught your bottom lip and before he could stop himself his plush lips met yours in a heated kiss.

               You didn’t miss a beat. You had been fantasizing about this man for months now. Never had you been subjected to the same type of seduction you dished out and your body craved him. Your skin was buzzing with waves of electricity as the both of you grinded off each other. You cold taste the last drink he shot back on his tongue as it slid up against yours playfully.

               You felt the heat of his length press against your belly and let him swallow your moan. When you pulled back dazed amber hues searched your own. You haven’t ever gotten this close to your ‘prey’ before, but you’ve also never cashed one down for this long. He was fun and you felt like you should reward him for in the most self-indulgent way possible.

               “K-Keigo~” You gasped breathlessly when you felt his hips roll into you, his clothed cock stimulating your clit. He repeated the action excited to hear you sigh in pleasure. By this point he was thinking clearer and was sure your quirk had worn off.

               “What’s wrong can’t handle it when someone spins your little game around.” The deep rumble of his voice surprised you, your hand coming up to your mouth to muffle a mewl. The shit-eating grin on his face lit a heat in your belly and you countered his challenge your lips pressing searing kisses against the length of his neck. “Hmm careful birdy.” He hummed, sliding his hand down your bodies and slipping his fingers into your panties.

               “Keigo.” You hissed sharply, looking around to see if anyone noticed. You clutched onto his shirt as his fingers brushed against your slick folds. “A-are you crazy?” You yelled in a whisper.

               “No~ I’m drunk~” he chimed. His eyes darkened as his face grew closer to yours again. “Besides we both knew what we were getting into as soon as our eyes met.”

               You quickly shut him up whimpering into his mouth as he drew slow circles onto your clit. You pressed your body closer to him desperate to feel more of him. ‘Is this how everyone else felt, when I teased them?’ You thought. Your chain of thought was broken when you saw cherry feathers fluff up around you. You drew back from his lips to press your head against his chest when you felt them slide into your wet hole.

               “Should I pull up my hand and show the room how sloppy your pussy is right now?” He teased. You quickly shut him up by bringing your knee up to his throbbing cock. He sucked in air; his eyes boring into yours. “Where the fuck is the nearest bathroom.”

               “The bathroom?” your face scrunched up in disgust at the thought.

               “It’s either here or there, sweetheart~” he cooed. You motined to the left with your eyes and his fingers slipped out of you with a wet ‘shlop’. Slippery fingers gripped yours as he tugged you to it.

               He poked his head in making sure it was vacant and using a quill he unlocked a cabinet and pulled out a yellow sign. You quickly hooked it onto the door and all air was rushed out of you when you were tugged into the surprisingly clean restroom. Keigo wasted no time in pushing your body to the counter. He made fast work of his belt.

               “Turn around.” He commanded. You weren’t about to question him. Your body burned like a thousand suns and your cunt pulsed in need of him. You rested your elbows on the sink, shaking your hips impatiently. You looked back at him watching as he dug in his pockets.

               “I’m on birth control hurry the fuck up.” You moaned. An amused grin brightened his features he was more than fine with going in raw. You felt him toy around your lips with the head of his cock and you tired to push back. You were about to speak when his arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled your body flush against his.

               “Hnng” Your ass met the fabric of his jeans in one fell swoop as he stretched you out in one smooth thrust.

“T-this doesn’t seem to be the sort of thing heroes usually do.” You gasped.

“Well I’m a different kind of hero.” You yelped, a pleasurable sting buzzing on the skin of your ass. His warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered something peculiar. “I don’t like to color in between the lines.”

With that odd line he pulled back and slowly slid back into you. The pace was obnoxiously slow, each drag of his cock acquainted your sopping pussy with his girth. The slow deep pace allowed you to feel every throb and vein of his thickness, but it wasn’t enough. You needed him to actually move.

“Stop fucking around.” You whined.

“Interesting choice of words.” He snickered. “This right here is payback for making me wait three months.”

You tried to move your hips back desperate for him to pick up the pace. But he had none of it, instead one of his hands came underneath your neck, he tugged your head up and you felt the tips of your ears grow hot as you starred at yourself. Your lipstick was smudged, and your bruised lips were parted as you panted.

“I don’t want you to miss this part.” He nipped your ear.

“Ah!” Your eyes crossed when he slammed into you. You were beyond grateful for the pounding of the base as you couldn’t continue the squeals the hero tore from your lips. Tears welled in your eyes at the rising pleasure. You babbled incoherently as he pistoned in and out of you at unmatched speeds. You were on your toes your hands clutching the hose of the sink for stability.

“Nngh You have no idea how crazy you drive people.” He grunted. The arm around your tummy retreated and you before you could wonder what he was up to you felt it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuccc Hmmmnn” His fingers were fast around your clit, your cunt pulsing with every stroke. “I-I’m so close” You whimpered. Keigo knew, he could feel your slick walls rippling around him.

When you came you slurred his name loudly, your pulsing walls hugging him tightly. He continued to ram into you, your body a quivering mess. You felt him tug at your neck again and you flushed at your lewd expression, drool slid down your chin and onto his hand and he let his thumb slip into your mouth. It pressed against your tongue as he continued to chase his own release.

“Fuck do ya hear that?” He leered, his amber gaze set down where his cock slide in and out of you with a loud gushing ‘slick’. You panted in response your body tightening up again. “Mmm your pussy feels so good.” He panted.

You were sure he was going to cum before you came again. His cock pulsed within you seeming to grow and he made to pull out and cum on your ass when you pressed flush against him his balls slapping your clit as he came inside of you. The warm thick ropes of cum lined your walls throwing you over once more, your pussy throbbing against him.

Hawks pulled out of you slowly watching as the mess slid out of your cunt and onto the tiled floor. Before it could slide down your legs, he grabbed a couple of paper towels and brought them up your legs. Amber eyes looked into yours from the mirror and he mirrored your smile.

“Hotel?” You asked.

“Trivago.” He agreed.

#hawks x reader #hawks x reader smut #takami keigo smut #keigo takami #takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks smut #hawks lemon

[taylorlynn-art]

⭐️ Underneath It All ⭐️

by Strawberry Moon Rose

🍓🌙🌹

This is a one-shot I conjured poking fun at how based on appearance, Sailor Moon characters can really confuse a person. Taking place in the anime world, but with the Starlights cross-dressing like in the manga instead of using a physical disguise.

Also, it got me thinking, what if the Sailor Starlights came to Earth at the end of SuperS? It had to have taken a while to establish their idol group before debuting.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or any of the characters. They belong to Naoko Takeuchi.

🍸

Soft jazz music drifts lazily around the bar. The flashy neon light of orange and green illuminates the Amazon Trio as they sip from their drinks in hand. Ice cubes slosh and clink as Tigers-Eye slams his glass down on the table in frustration.

"Man, we got scolded again," he complains. "And we're doing our best too..."

"She doesn't have to yell at us like that," Hawks-Eye agrees. "If catching Pegasus were that easy, we would have found him by now!"

Fish-Eye tips his head back daintily, sipping from his cocktail glass. "There are just so many targets, how are we supposed to know which one he's hiding in? It's like finding a needle in a haystack."

Hawks-Eye brushes through the photographs scattered across the bar top. "Hmm... None of these women are really catching my eye." He plucks a snapshot of a girl with braids and waves it in Tigers-Eye's face, knowing he has a thing for younger chicks. "What about this one? You interested?" he inquires.

Tigers-Eye yawns. "Too plain."

"How 'bout this?" Hawks-Eye tries again. If Tigers-Eye doesn't do something, he'll have to do something, and he isn't in the mood for another failure and reprimanding from the old hag, Zirconia.

"Too old."

"And this one?"

Tigers-Eye makes a face and waves his hand dismissively. "Ugh, not another guy. See if Fish-Eye wants him," he says.

"What? Where? Lemme see!" Fish-Eye slides off his stool and squeezes between his cronies. Hearts form in his blue eyes when he catches a glimpse of the target. "Oh my gosh! You're kidding!" He snatches the photograph out of Hawks-Eye's hand so fast it's nothing but a blur.

"What're you getting so excited about? He's not nearly as handsome as I am," Tigers-Eye says, unable to conceal the tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"He's right," Hawks-Eye boasts. "We're much more good-looking."

"You two don't know who this is?" Fish-Eye asks incredulously.

Tigers-Eye and Hawks-Eye stare at their friend.

"It's Seiya Kou from the Three Lights!" Fisheye kisses the picture and twirls around. "I'm so lucky!"

"Never heard of him," Hawks-Eye comments in a voice as flat as cardboard.

"Me neither." Tigers-Eye tosses his orange hair. "He must not be that popular."

But Fish-Eye isn't listening to them. "Oh my, I wonder what kind of girls he likes? How should I approach him?

Tigers-Eye and Hawks-Eye swivel around in their seats and reach for their drinks. By now they know it's useless trying to talk to him when he goes gaga over a target.

"Cross-dressing again?" Hawks-Eye sounds bored.

"Why, of course!" Fisheye gazes dreamily at the glossy portrait. The celeb is clad in a red suit and yellow tie. A bright rose is stuffed in the breast pocket. Ebony bangs fall messily above spunky blue eyes, accompanied by a microphone and crooked smile.

Fish-Eye giggles. Seiya Kou... Even your name is beautiful! I'll seduce you for sure!

🎸

"Thank you! Goodnight everybody!" The lead singer gives a final wave into the sea of faces. The crowd erupts into applause as the Three Lights exit the stage. It's a warm Saturday night and they just wrapped up their second concert at the venue.

"Great job tonight, guys. They absolutely loved you." Their manager gives each member a pat on the back.

"Thank you, sir," Taiki replies politely. "We did our best."

Seiya accepts a towel from a stage worker and dabs the sweat off her forehead. She cranes her head up to the night sky, breathing heavily. Princess... Where are you now? Can you hear our message? They have only been on Earth for two months, but she and the others are already used to cross-dressing as a boy band.

"Seiya, we are heading back to change," Taiki calls over her shoulder.

"You coming or what?" Yaten taps her foot impatiently.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Seiya shakes her head and follows them down the corridor to their dressing rooms. The high from performing hasn't worn off yet, and she hums the whole way, a bounce in her step.

Once she reaches her assigned room, Seiya shuts the door and starts collecting her things. The open window allows a humid breeze to drift in, carrying the sweet fragrance of a beautiful spring night - cherry blossoms and rain. She can still hear the murmurs of the crowd in the distance.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in!" the Starlight calls absentmindedly, figuring it's Taiki or Yaten.

Creak... The door creeps open. When Seiya glances up, she catches her breath.

Standing against the door frame appears to be one of the most gorgeous women Seiya's ever seen before. The beauty's pale-blue hair is tied in a high ponytail that cascades in lustrous waves to her hips. She wears a flowing white dress and strappy sandals.

It's like she forgot how to speak. "Can I help you?" Seiya clears her throat and quickly fluffs her hair.

Fish-Eye smiles and brushes a stray curl out of his face. "Actually, you can," he says in a high, silky voice.

"Oh? How so?" Whenever a cute girl is in sight, she can't help it - she's always been a flirt.

Fish-Eye giggles and casually eases the door shut behind him. "I really enjoyed the concert, Seiya. You shine like a true star out there. I was wondering if I could get a souvenir of some sort to make the experience all the more memorable..."

"I'm flattered," Seiya replies smoothly. She closes the distance between them in a few swift steps, drinking in Fish-Eye's sparkly perfume. "What do you have in mind?"

"An autograph would be wonderful." Fish-Eye bats his mascara-coated lashes. "But anything from a superstar like you would make me the happiest fan in the world."

A grin spreads across Seiya's face. They gaze at each other for a few seconds, holding a teasing conversation with their eyes. Seiya reaches for a blank notebook resting on the nearby table and pulls a marker out of her pocket. Gliding close to the pretty stranger, she says, "And to whom shall I make this autograph out to?"

"To 'Sakana'," Fish-Eye says breezily.

"Sakana, huh?" Seiya smiles quizzically at him. "That's a cute name you have."

"You think so?"

Squeak, squeak, goes the marker as Seiya scribbles out the autograph. She signs her name with a flourish, tears the paper out of the notebook, and hands it to Fish-Eye. "There you are," she declares.

"Oh, thank you so much! An autograph from my favorite male idol! I'll treasure it forever!"

Still smiling, Seiya puts her hands in her pockets. "Anything else I can help you with...?"

Fish-Eye carefully folds the autograph into his purse. "Oh, perhaps there is..." he purrs.

"Yeah?"

"But it's a bit of a secret..." Fish-Eye fingers Seiya's collar, pulling playfully on her tie.

"I'm intrigued," she whispers.

Fish-Eye stands on his tiptoes and whispers enticingly into Seiya's ear, "I'd like to get to know you better..."

"Is that so?"

He outlines the buttons on Seiya's jacket. "These ties can be tricky, can't they? Let me assist you in taking it off..."

Seiya chuckles. "That sounds quite tempting, but you see, I have to go soon... The others are waiting for me," she answers honestly, regretfully.

"Oh, they can wait, can't they?" If Fish-Eye gets any closer, they'll be a grilled cheese sandwich.

"I'm sorry." Unwillingly, Seiya gently pushes him off her. "You're extremely attractive, Sakana, but... I can't. I wish I could, but I can't."

Fish-Eye draws back as if he'd been slapped across the face. He widens his eyes innocently. "Why not?"

'Because you'd find out I'm a woman and then our image would be ruined', Seiya wants to say, but responds, "I'm not who you think I am."

"What do you mean? I know who you are. You're just making an excuse, aren't you?"

"No, I-"

"Fine." Fish-Eye steps back. The corners of his mouth crumple into a scowl. "I see how it is. I guess it's goodbye to you then, isn't it?"

Before Seiya can respond, a blue curtain appears out of the air and drops over Fish-Eye with a whoosh. It raises to reveal his true self - bubbly blue outfit, scaly hands, and black Amazon marking on his forehead.

"Who are-?!" Seiya stumbles back.

"ONE!" A red board rises from under the floorboards, slamming into the Starlight's back.

"TWO!" Cold, metal clamps bind Seiya's wrists and ankles.

"THREE!"

Seiya screams as her dream mirror emerges, taking shape bit by bit. Harsh light blinds her, and wind whips her hair all over. It feels like someone is reaching into her chest and ripping out her insides. What's going on? What is this?!

Once it stops, she slumps forward in exhaustion, supported only by the painful cuffs pinning her to the plank.

"Now to take a look inside your beautiful dream mirror!" Fish-Eye saunters towards the trapped idol. He grabs hold of the glowing mirror on both sides. It's shining brighter than any one he's seen before! His eyes glimmer in hope. Could this be the home of Pegasus after all?

"Y-You lied to me! Who are you really?" Seiya shouts, raising her head. It's obvious by the flat chest and deep voice that this monster is male, and on top of that, the enemy! How could she fall into his trap? Anger and humiliation course through her veins. She thrashes harder, but cannot break free.

Fish-Eye chuckles, but doesn't reply. He stretches the mirror on both sides like putty and dives his head inside her dream mirror. Seiya shrieks in agony.

"Where is Pegasus?" he says aloud, looking all over. But instead of finding a winged horse with a golden horn, he sees flowing images of a beautiful, red-haired princess catered by three female guardians in black uniforms.

Fish-Eye throws his head out of the mirror in horror. "H-H-How dare you deceive me! That's my job!" he cries, his voice wavering. I fell for a woman in disguise? Impossible! This can't be right...

Skin crawling and cheeks burning, Fish-Eye stands back. How humiliating! "What a waste of a trip. Well, either way, I suppose you'll have to die now, Seiya. Come out, my Remless! Superstar Daistuaa!"

A creature climbs out of his shadow - a skinny girl with a guitar as a torso and a microphone as a tail. She snaps the cord like a whip and says in a mouse-like voice, "It's showtime!"

"I'm leaving this up to you, Daisutaa," Fish-Eye barks.

"Of course!”

A black hole rimmed with water appears in the air. Fish-Eye does a backwards somersault into it and vanishes.

The dream mirror returns to Seiya's body and the board and restraints disappear. She falls to her knees, feeling dizzy and weak.

"Hello, everybody!" Daisutaa sings. "I'm so happy to be here! I've got a super great show for you!"

Seiya glares up at the Remless. A phage? No, it's different... She reaches into her pocket for her transformation brooch.

"Uh-uh! Please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices during the show!" Daisutaa lunges at Seiya. They crash into the wooden table which breaks into jagged pieces beneath them. Seiya groans, her back throbbing, and tries to throw the Remless off her. Daisutaa's three-inch nails are like knives, poised at her throat.

"Get...off...me!" she grunts, turning her head to the side in a feeble attempt to avoid the monster slicing her jugular.

"You want an encore, you say?" Daisutaa crows. "Alrighty then!"

Bam! The dressing room door slams open, nearly flying off its hinges.

"Star Sensitive Inferno!"

"Star Gentle Uterus!"

The Remless snaps her head up, frozen like a deer in the headlights as the two combined attacks hit her head on. "What? Aghhh! STAGE OUT!" she wails, crumbling to glass. The shadow on the floor fades, and a billow of smoke dissipates in an upright spiral circle. The Dead Moon magic is gone.

"Seiya!" Maker cries, hurrying over to her.

"What happened? We heard you screaming." Healer kneels beside Seiya. "What was that thing? A phage?"

"So they have invaded here too?" Maker murmurs gravely.

Seiya coughs and shakes her head. Grunting, she pulls herself into a sitting position. "No, it was something else..."

Healer helps Seiya to her feet. "Well, either way, it's gone now. Let's hope we never see anything like it again."

"Yeah. Just forget it happened," Seiya mutters, flushing as she recalls Sakana.

She knew she wanted to.

✨

"Back so soon, Fish-Eye?" Tigers-Eye swings around in his chair at the bar.

Ignoring him, Fish-Eye plops down in his usual spot and pours himself a drink. In one sip, he downs the entire thing and reaches to refill the glass.

"Whoa, easy!" Hawks-Eye jokes. "Did it go that bad?"

Tigers-Eye's green eyes dance. "That Seiya dude rejected you, didn't he?" he says gaily.

"Can it, you two," Fish-Eye grumbles, studying his red nail polish. "You don't know the half of it."

"So what happened?" Hawks-Eye asks.

A bloom of red appears in Fish-Eye's cheeks. "Let's just say that underneath it all, Seiya Kou wasn't who I thought he was."

Tigers-Eye smirks. "I could have told you all those boy bands are bogus."

"Shut up, Tigers-Eye. Just shut up."

#sailor moon fanfiction #Seiya Kou #sailor stars #fanfic #story #comedy #one shot #anime #sailor moon fandom #pretty guardian sailor moon #usagi tsukino #star fighter #fish eye #Amazon trio #sailor moon fan #bishoujo senshi sailor moon #strawberry moon rose #AO3

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Ghost Wedding: The Remix

So, uh, here’s the first actual fanfic I’ve written, and the first full length piece I’ve written in literal years. I wrote it for my own amusement, after weeks of eating up various bits of TWST lore and scenes and going “But, how would the whole Ghost marriage story have gone with a Yuu who was more like me a goth bisexual disaster?

What follows is a series of vignnetes, starring a Yuu who’s the only girl in NRC, with deeply questionable taste, told in the second person. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, I crave positive feedback and like when other people enjoy the things I like.

Contend warnings for blood, body horror, emeto, coarse language and pretentious word choices.

You've been here a while. En-Arr-See wasn't precisely a safe place, what with your dorm being a condemned hellpit of tetanus and black mold, and powerful magicians having mutagenic psychotic breaks only curable by kicking their ass so hard it flies out their mouth. But certainly, it wasn't boring, and you'd made friends. You had your scrappy ginger Ace in the hole; your serious mamas-boy Deuce; your funny little not-a-cat Grim. Hell, you even have your Horned Boy, he of the poison-coloured eyes that never seem to leave your face when you talk about fun things like books and music and the moral imperative of dissolving the monarchy. And, you were on speaking terms with a good chunk of others. So, when your favourite little robot came up to Crowley, yelling something about ghosts kidnapping his brother, you took his hand and said, "Ortho, show me what's going on." After all, you won't let anything happen to Idia. You have plans for him yet.

~*~*~*~

Some beauties might launch a thousand ships, and in your (objectively correct) opinion, while Idia's beauty wouldn't lead to a ten year siege of Troy, he'd certainly convince everyone attending Whitby Goth Weekend to haul off into the sea with a beat of his lashes. The first time you'd seen him, you'd simply stared in slack-jawed awe. He was luminescent; even leaving behind the fiery hair that flashed and swelled behind him, his eyes were a bright clear amber, and his skin translucent, with his own blue veins serving as the detailing in the marble. Add in the deeply circled eyes and the bluish discolouration of the lips, and the figure he presented was arresting, astounding, more beautiful and unreal than anything you'd conjured up after staying up all night reading ghost stories. "Magnificent," you'd said to yourself, and if your friends gave you a strange look, well, fuck 'em. They have no sense of beauty or taste.

Unfortunately, the intensity of your gaze proved too much for him, and he'd fled. You'd had no time to pursue the object of your infatuation either, class would soon begin, and Grim was yelling. Later, then. There's all the time in the world to ask after the fine young man with the lamplight eyes.

~*~*~*~ "Oh no," you said when Ortho showed you the video. "She's really hot."

Grim gawked and Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you take from this?"

"You're the one with an all-boys school. What's a girl like me to do when a pretty girl pops up?"

"She's a ghost, Yuu."

"That's the best part."

"My brother-"

"I'll help you, dear." You set a hand on Ortho's shoulder. "He must be so frightened, right? I'll do what you need." 

Before anyone could say anything else, a racket started up outside, and things got a little busy.

~*~*~*~ "Do you mind if I sit?"

Idia looked up at you. starting at the intrusion. His face was awash in blue from the conjured screens around him, his lips gone black. "...Why?"

"Tables are full. I'd rather not eat standing." He didn't explicitly say no, so you settled across the table, a few chairs down. He made a fascinating tableau as you picked at your lunch, flicking through and typing at the screen. Lines of code, schematics for all sorts of tech, occasional comics all flit across the pane of light in a million shades of blue. Until...

"Could you pretend I'm a bug?"

You squinted. "What." What the actual hell did he mean by that.

"Pretend I'm not here. I'm beneath notice."

You stop for a moment and smile, faint enough that he can't see the devil in it. "You want me to treat you like an insect."

"Yes." Hard to see in the light, there was a small twitch by his temple, a barely perceptible shake in his long fingered hands.

"Alright." With that, you slide down the table to directly across from him, settle you chin in your hands, and stare at him unblinkingly.

"?!?!?" The squawk he made was undignified and deeply, deeply endearing. "What are you doing?"

"You asked me to treat you like an insect." You smile at him, full of mischief and good cheer. "So I'm looking at you very closely. I'm taking in every sweet action, and delighting that the day has conspired to put something so wonderful in front of me."

Oh, who would have thought that this blue boy could turn so pink! As he pulled his hood up, you chuckle and move back to your tray. "I'll let you be," you say, and did indeed, for the amount of time it took him to close up shop and flee back to the depths of Ignihyde. When you waved at him as he went by, he nearly tripped in his haste.

~*~*~*~ "Stop laughing."

The boys did not listen.

"May others show you the kindness you've shown Idia if you're in a bind."

"You're just mad because she's gonna kill your-"

"Grim? Shut the fuck up. Now; who's helping."

After a chorus of 'no's, you drag your fingers through your hair. "I hate all of you so fucking much right now... Ortho, your ideas?"

Ortho's idea was deeply enticing but Crowley would not have the school leveled, and thankfully, the two of them threatened and guilted the others into helping. You'd have to say thank you later, but god, then Crowley might think you actually liked him instead of just finding him funny, and who needed that in their life?

"Alright, so... A plan?"

~*~*~*~ As badly as he might've liked to have escaped, there was only one empty seat in the class, and it was by him. So, Idia threw his hood up, along with his headphones, and started blatantly ignoring you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." A faint grunt and he turned away from you.

"Shroud," you intoned in the most sepulchral tone you could, setting you hand in his field of vision. He whipped his head at you, the fire in his eyes nothing compared to the changing colours on his head.

"WHAT."

You raise your hands in supplication, trying to still your racing heart. "I'm sorry dude. I wanted to ask where you got your screens?"

"My screens?" His eyes flicked back to his schoolwork, hovering in the air. "I made them myself."

Your face lit up in awe. "That's amazing dude, holy shit. How'd you do that? It's a damn miracle."

"Ah... well..." Two sides warred within him - pride that someone recognized his tech genius, and his deep seated anxiety that anyone trying to be nice was just fucking with him. Fortunately for both of you, pride won out. "It's certainly something complicated for a magicless normie like you to understand." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you really want to hear?"

You fixed him with a level look. "Never call me that again. Now, start like I'm five and go from there."

He stared back at you, and you stared right back. "Indulge me, Idia."

He gave you a smile full of sharp, crooked teeth, and while you tried to still the palpitations the sight of them gave you, he started with very basic theory, and went from there.

~*~*~*~ "You are not going to seduce the ghost bride, Yuu."

"Why the hell not?"

"You're a girl?"

"You're kinda plain."

"You're fat."

"She's probably straight?"

You point in turn at Leona, Azul, Vil, and Kalim. "So?, no I'm plenty hot actually, get fucked, and... Okay, That is a good point. But Kal, you have no idea how many straight girls I've managed to kiss."

"I think you'd die, Shrimpie," Floyd said as he flopped heavily over your shoulders, giggling as you attempted to untangle yourself. "And you're short."

"Yeah, but you have no idea how hot I am when I'm actually try- Shut up, Vil - Like, I clean up so good you guys. I even made a suit a couple weeks ago -"

"That's convenient? Weirdly so?"

"I found suiting that wasn't moth eaten and decided to have fun, at least-" You finally escape from the noodly arms of Leech the Wild One. "Let me suit up and show you? I can be so sexy, you guys. Come on."

In answer to the confused silence, you took your keys out of your pocket and chucked them at Deuce's confused face. "Adeuce! Grim! It's on the vanity in my room!"

"But ghosts?"

"Say you're clearing out things so that we won't bother... No, actually just go the balcony way."

"You can't unlock the balcony from the outside without a lockpick, it only locks from the inside."

A moment of silence. "Lilia, what the fuck?"

He shrugged. "I moved everything two inches to the left once to see if you noticed."

"I wasn't imagining things?!?"

This'll take a moment to sort out, and the clock is ticking...

~*~*~*~ You truly liked the woods! Green and quiet. Full of things that crawled and scurried, little friends that squeaked and croaked and hissed. The occasional precious treasure of a small bone or edible mushroom. So, you were quite surprised when you found Idia, miserable, crouched beside a fallen log.

"... Skipping gym?" Going by the uniform, the most likely answer. "Or did you finally realize that outside doesn't always bite?"

He scowled at you, and you stifled a giggle when you realized that yes, he was actually covered in bug bites. "They should replace this with a mall."

"You hate malls. Too many people." You reached out a hand, and pulled him to his feet. Idly, you wondered if he'd let you try and fit your hands around his waist, but thought better of asking.

"Game stores are alright. No one bothers you in one, or in arcades. And." He stopped, as he brushed the dirt from his legs, before continuing in a mumble you only got the gist of.

"Me and Ortho will be your big, scary guard dogs?"

"... Who'll notice me with both of you?"

"Everyone." Because he's the most beautiful person in the room, and they'd be mad not to look. "Because you show up so rarely. It makes it all the more noticeable when you are out, so everyone pays attention." You held out a hand. "I'll take you out the back way so you don't get in trouble."

No dice. He held his hands in close. "I'll just follow."

"Alright. Why'd you go out this far in the woods with no map, anyways?"

"There's no cell service..."

"Clearly, we need to turn your blood into a wi-fi signal, instead of liquid sugar."

He huffed, but he did follow you, and was actually approaching a good mood once you escorted him through the Ramshackle gates.

~*~*~*~ "Hey, what did I miss?" It took entirely too long to get a single lock of hair to to a perfect insouciant flip over your forehead, even with the eternally stylish Sam's help.

"She's slapped everyone who went to propose, and when she does you're paralyzed for 500 years."

"Christ," You say as you adjust a pin on your lapel. "We have to get Idia back, he'll get what? A week before he gets the hand."

"She's so fussy!" yelled Grim. "You have to sing and have a dog and she hates poison flowers."

"Clearly, she has no taste." Honestly,you thought her taste was just fine, what with thinking Idia was the finest of the bunch. He was very princely, if your tastes ran to exquisite corpses with the personality of a neurotic goblin. "Who wouldn't want poison blossoms?" Tie? No tie? Tie? No tie? No tie. And unbutton. Leona wishes he had this chest.

"We know she has no taste because she chose Idia."

You chose to ignore that, and clapped. "Okay, Round Two!"

~*~*~*~ The truest tragedy of this school was that it was all boys. Not that boys were bad by any means, you certainly enjoyed them, but... girls. Tall girls! Short girls! Busty girls! Petite girls! Butch girls! Femme girls! Fat girls! Girls!

So many kinds of girls, and you, in all of your plump and handsome glory, were the only girl in an entire high school. Welcome to hell.

You accepted no gifts that came unvetted. You had friends ward the everloving bajeezus out of your dorm room. Grim was more than happy to test your food and drink for tampering, but it was exhausting. You at least knew that any food you ate at the Mostro Lounge was clear, but that was only because everyone was too damn scared of the eternally hovering Floyd to try anything while there.

 So, you eat a lot of vending machine snacks.

You've been standing there for fifteen minutes, trying to figure out the best combo with your limited funds, when someone coughed behind you.

"??? Oh, hey Idia." You stepped aside while he shuffled up to the glass and peered in. "Anything to recommend? I got this." You waved your bill in the air.

He only looked at you a moment before looking back at the machine. "That won't get you much."

"Ah, don't I know it. But it's all I got."

He still wasn't looking directly at you, but a smile started to creep across his face. "Get your bag."

"Wha-" He was already tapping out a beat with the keypad, blue sparks flying from his fingertips, the machine starting to groan and shiver. With a final note, the snack machine gave a final heaving shudder - and every single snack fell to the bottom of the machine.

He was so proud as he smiled at you, reaching down and pulling a single bag of gummies from the spilled mess. "You first."

And, as you stuffed your schoolbag and pockets full of thieved goods, praising his genius, his cleverness, his skills, he just glowed.

~*~*~*~ "I guess you were ahead of the game, Yuu. She hates that no one's dressed up properly. And..."

"And? You raised an eyebrow at Ace.

"You do look stylish. But you need backup."

"Of course. You'll all rescue people while I distract her!”

"But what if she slaps you?"

"You'll step in if that happens. But we have to dress you all up."

"Did you makes spares?"

"No." Tragic, everyone would look so cute in summerweight green wool. "Let's ask Sam, he's got everything."

~*~*~*~ "Okay, Ortho, you see?" You held his back to your chest, and raised your hand in front of his face, palm away from him. As you wiggled your fingers, you could see movement on the back of your hand. "Those are tendons. Those, and the muscles, are what move the bones, make your hands move. If you put your fingers here," you say as you place his fingertips over the moving lines, "you should be able to feel it."

"I do! They go up and down. What's the popping?"

"That's my faulty joints, we'll cover those another day. Now," you flipped your hand over, and moved his fingers to your wrist. "You feel that?"

"That is your pulse! It's not as string as it should be."

"I'm not always in the best of health. So, Ortho. My hand moves by muscles and tendons when I think of it. My blood moves through my body, one beat at a time, and you can feel it. Right?"

"Right."

"You," you say, as you take Ortho's other hand. "Your hand moves by motors and servos, when you think about it. Electricity and magic moves through your body, in beats so fast we can't perceive it, and it's as measurable as my pulse."

"... Because I am a robot."

"Because you are a bit different. But we're both alive, we're both real, just in different ways." You turn to look at Ortho directly, and he looks back at you with yellow eyes that are actual, real lamps. "Don't let anyone ever say you're not real, or alive, or good enough, just because you're different."

And though you can't see it, you can feel Idia smiling from the corner of his room.

~*~*~*~ Alright. No more time for memories, only the here and now. You've got a heart full of love, a pocket full of ring, and a head full of stupid. You're as prepared as anyone else who went in. Start on your left foot, and...

"Hello? Excuse me?" You make a cursory knock at the doorframe before stepping in. "I heard there was a wedding."

The bride - Eliza - whirled on you, and stopped. She was even more of a vision in person, airy translucence and fine, sweet features currently arranged in confusion. "Ah- Yes! I'm getting married to my darling Prince Idia! Right away, so-"

Not if I have my way about it, you thought to yourself as you arranged yourself in a perfect bow, one hand behind your back. You pretended not to notice Idia trussed up with rope, but you filed the sight away for later. "How wonderful. I wish you only happiness. But it must wait."

Before she could get her hand ready, you straightened and fixed her with your best smile. "My dearest princess, I cannot let this happen until I dance with the most beautiful person in this room. It would be improper to do so with a newlywed, and I cannot know peace until I dance. Would you be so kind, my fair princess?"

She was still baffled. "Aren't you a girl?"

You keyed up the brightness. "I am, and I dance very well. Would you indulge me, my dear?"

You could see her considering it. "You... are rather princely. Can you lead?"

"Of course. May I?" Again with the bow, and to your delight, she returned with a flawless curtsy. Hand in hand, you began.

~*~*~*~ It was delightful, to dance with this silly ghost girl. Everywhere your bodies touched, from her hand in yours to what would have been a fine chest, but was instead a clean and elegant ribcage festooned with pearls, heat seeped away and left only a chill as cold as clay. Her footwork was flawless, considering she no longer had feet, and she was so easy to chat with. She asked you about your dog (none currently, but you'd love to have one, and there was Grim in the meantime), your singing, (little voice to speak of, but that was what vocal coaches were for), and why you wanted to dance with her (because when would the chance ever come again? Unless fairest Eliza considered her for forever and a day.)

"But what of dear Idia?" She'd almost looked towards where Idia no longer was, having been unknotted long ago, but you drew her back in before she could notice the chaos around her.

" 'Dear Idia', though as beautiful as the moon in the sky, has cold feet, my love. He's afraid of dying. But I? I'd cherish you for all of eternity." You leaned in closer. "I am not afraid of dying, beloved. To journey with you through realms beyond mortal reach. I can think of nothing more exciting than to cross the barrier to the other side, hand in hand with you. In the words of a fine sir from my home, 'to die by your side/the pleasure, the privilege is mine'. Please, please consider me, please..."

Here's how it should have gone: She said yes, and you put the ring on her finger, and all was well. But you'd awakened such a sweet hunger in her, she could not wait for propriety. Instead, she grasped your face and kissed you with the passion of five hundred years search, found.

~*~*~*~ It was so pleasant at first, that you couldn't help but return it. When had anyone ever kissed you with such passion? But quickly, the chill began to overtake you. It could have been bearable, but after that was pain. You started to shake, uncontrollably, as every nerve in your body was scraped away with a rusty blade, and as you weakly tried to push away, as blood began to flow from your eyes, your mouth, every pore and orifice, she still would not let go. All you could think was it hurts it hurts it hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts and, as you slipped to a grey place beyond where pain could touch you, you barely noticed the cacophony around you, or something hurtling towards the two of you from the corner of your eye.

Something blue.

~*~*~*~ When you finally woke up, through a drugged and painful haze, you couldn't tell where you were. When you jolted up, the pain of it sending you into a nauseated fit of blood-flecked coughing, a familiar yelp sounded, and you turned to see Idia, little the worse for wear.

"You're up, uh..." He fumbled something onto the table, behind his back. "I."

You just looked. At him, at the surroundings. A hospital bed, with gifts and flowers (most filched from the wedding venue, but someone had stuck Jade's poison blossom into a vase and set it in the far corner). Idia was the only one present, seeing as it was the middle of the night.

"Ortho's getting things you might need. I... I hate hospital scenes..."

"Hurt's over.” You tried to settle yourself more comfortably, failing miserably. “Here comes the comfort." You reached out a hand, as he looked anywhere in the room but you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." More silence.

"Shroud." He hesitantly placed his hand in yours, tinting pink as you pulled the sleeve up. The sight of it made you gasp. His fine wrist, so small even you could put your fingers around it, was mottled with deep bruising, blacks and purples set so deep into the skin that there was crusted blood on the surface, despite being unbroken. It was so, deeply, incredibly...

Beautiful. It was all you could do, not to press your lips to his wrist and taste his pulse as it flitted under his skin. To clean the blood away with your own tongue and cover the marks that your hungry ghost princess had made with your own teeth. Not hers. Yours.

Really, no wonder you'd been so enchanted with Eliza. You're cut of the same cloth.

"It must hurt."

He jerked his hand away, making you both wince. "What the hell is wrong with you? They only reason you're not dead is everyone pouring so much healing magic into you that it exhausted almost everyone. I." You could see flickers and flashes of orange sparking along the full length of his hair. "I'm not worth dying for. Why?"

What do you tell him? That it was the right thing to do? That you wanted to prove that you could woo a pretty girl? That you didn't want him dead? That you were a possessive bitch that couldn't stand the idea of someone else having him, even if unwilling on his part? All were true, but what do you say?

It proved a moot point, as when you opened your mouth to say something, anything, something shifted within you, and the only thing Idia received was a gout of blood square in his face.

~*~*~*~ After you'd slept, you reached for your phone in the thin morning light. Your friends where texting well wishes and condolences, and explanations of what happened after you went down (It seemed Idia had tackled Eliza clean off of you, and after some chaos she ran off with her retainer, rending this entire day moot). Even more interestingly, you found a text from an unknown number:

- I'm still mad at you.

You huffed to yourself, and after a bit of thought, start to text back.

- Dude I'm so sorry about the uh. blood puke. - I'll pay for cleaning - Also you know, you could have just asked for my number a long time ago? - Like a normal person? - Who doesn't break into phones to steal said numbers while I was unconscious next to you, what the fuck dude - That's not what this is about though. - You've got every right to be mad - That whole day was traumatizing, and you didn't deserve any of it - I'd rather sort this out in person but if text is easier for you right now we can do that - One last thing though

You stopped, and thought Do I actually do this? and went what the hell.

- I still need that dance I went in to get from you

#twisted wonderland #twst fic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #ghost wedding #my writing

[oriigami]

we’re running against the wind

[Part two of my One Piece Wing AU, this time focusing on the Strawhats and their histories. Read it on AO3 here!] [Part One]

“I can’t fly,” Kuina told him, one warm and dusky night, sitting on the porch step and staring down at the grass. Arms wrapped around bony knees, bruised and grass-stained. “Did you know that?” 

Zoro blinked, and sat down beside her, baffled for a moment. “What do you mean? Cause your wings haven’t grown out yet?” 

She sighed, heavy and tired, and stretched one wing out at her side. It was simple, plain black, small for her age. “You know what a rail is?” 

“A rail?” 

“It’s a kind of bird. The kind I am. They live on the ground,” Kuina said, staring down at the grass between her scuffed shoes. “They don’t fly. They’re no good for it. Their wings are too small. Even if they try, they can never get too far off the ground.” 

She shot him a sideways look, and halfheartedly tugged on one of his feathers. His wings were still growing, but already much larger than hers, big and brown, almost gold in the sunlight. Eagle wings. Wings meant to soar. 

“You’re lucky, Zoro,” she said, looking up at him with a terribly sad half-smile on her face that he never, ever wanted to see again. “Someday, you’re going to fly.” 

Zoro woke up with her voice still ringing in her head. 

Consciousness hit him with an unpleasant jolt, and he had half a second to process the dusty courtyard- not Shimotsuki dojo- before a half-dozen different varieties of discomfort hit him all at once. 

The hunger pains were practically screaming in the back of his mind, and he was parched from dehydration. He was half-numb from the ropes digging into his skin, cutting off blood circulation. He shifted, trying to prop himself up as best he could, and grit his teeth against the sharp, stabbing pain of blood starting to flow again.

As soon as he moved, his wings pulsed with pain, and he had to bite back a yell. They’d been lashed roughly to the pole at his back at an uncomfortable angle that had started as barely tolerable and progressed, over the course of the days, to maddening. The dusty ground all around him was scattered with fallen dusty gold feathers, both those that had been pulled loose by the ropes and those that had shed on their own as starvation had taken its toll. 

It was fine, though. What was a few feathers lost? It wasn’t like he was going to die here. It wasn’t like he could.

He had a promise to keep, after all. 

-

Arlong never clipped Nami’s wings. They were too useful for quick getaways. To him, they were just some of the features that made her such a valuable tool, such a clever, profitable little thief. So, no, he never damaged her wings.

But he loved to remind her that he could. 

If she disobeyed, if she tried to run away- well, fishmen were so strong, and wings were so fragile. She learned to bear the fear, though she always kept her wings folded close and tight to her back whenever she walked through Arlong Park. If there was one thing she could be grateful for, at least, it was that he never thought to threaten to hurt Nojiko’s wings instead. 

She could still hear the crunch of Bellemere’s wingbones when Arlong had stomped on them.

Fishmen didn’t have wings. It made sense- what sure would undersea creatures have for them? But she couldn’t help but suspect, every now and then, that Arlong was envious. He could rule their towns and beat them into the ground and proclaim himself and his brethren superior over humans in every way- but he would never, ever fly. That was something Nami would always hold over him.

Nami’s wings were simple at first glance- black, with splotches of bright white at the shoulders and tips- but under the sunlight, the black glittered, turning to dark iridescent bluish-green. They looked nothing like Bellemere’s wide, long-feathered osprey wings had. 

“Would you cut it out?” she snapped, one wing stretching out to swat Luffy’s curious hands away from the straw hat resting in her lap.

She’d known him for more than a day now, but she still couldn’t really make up her mind on her temporary captain. He was annoying, but good-hearted, but stupid, but honest- and she’d never seen wings like his either. They were bright red and featherless, looking more bat than bird. Overall, he was a frustrating enigma, for how open he was. 

Not that it mattered, really. She’d be parting ways with them soon enough. 

“Are you done yet?” he asked insistently, leaning around her shoulder to peer at the mostly-repaired hat cradled in her hands. The wide, ugly knife cuts Buggy had left in the golden straw were mostly hidden now, though you could still see the scars if you knew to look- the replacement straw she’d had to use in places was brighter and cleaner than the worn, aged material of the rest of the hat. 

She wondered idly just how old this stupid hat was. There were other repairs worked into the straw here and there, some more recent and some much older, hand-stitched with varying levels of neatness and expertise. 

“Nearly,” she said, not for the first time. “Be patient.” 

The sun caught on the mended straw, and all of a sudden she remembered a question she’d wanted to ask. “Hey, Luffy,” she said before his attention could drift. “What’s with this feather?” 

She’d noticed it when they’d first met, and wondered at it. It was tucked into the red ribbon that ran around the hat, and when she’d taken the hat to repair it and gotten a closer look, she’d noticed that it was carefully stitched into place. It was striped black and sapphire blue, with a tiny splash of white at the tip. 

“Oh!” Luffy said. “That’s Sabo’s!” 

Nami blinked. “Sabo?” she repeated. 

“My brother!” Luffy said. 

Zoro blinked one eye open from where he’d been napping on one of the little boat’s benches, lifting his head. “You’ve got a brother?” he asked. 

“There’s more of you?” Nami said at the same time. 

Luffy snickered. “I’ve got two big brothers!” he explained. “They both set out to sea before me, though. Sabo first, and then Ace second. Sabo had bluejay wings. Yours kinda remind me of them, Nami!”

Had, Nami thought, and thought of Nojiko- solid blue wings, tipped with black. Thought about the osprey feather tucked away in the very back of her dresser in Cocoyashi. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah!” Luffy said. “They’re really pretty! And glittery and blue, like the ocean!” 

“Oh,” Nami said. “...Thanks.”

...So maybe she liked her temporary captain, just a little. It wouldn’t change anything, in the end. 

-

Usopp lied about his wings. He kept them tucked close to his back, and whenever someone asked, he’d come up with a new species, something big and intimidating. Hawk, eagle, falcon- something flashy, impressive, worthy of a brave warrior of the sea. 

Of course, none of those were true. (Nothing he said ever was.) Everyone in the village knew it, too- they’d known him since he was a kid, after all. The truth he never wanted to admit was that his wings were unremarkable, just like him. Plain black, medium size, with a thick stripe of white running through the middle of each. He only ever opened them when he was with his friends, or with Kaya. 

The first time she’d seen his wings was when he threw his arms open too wide when telling a story, caught up in the fantasy inside his head, and unbalanced himself from his perch on the tree outside her window. They’d snapped open on instinct to break his fall and let him catch himself midair, and he’d flapped back up to her window to see her beaming. 

“Look,” she’d said, and stretched her own wings open- big beautiful crane wings, wide and white but with a thick band of black on the inside of each. Just the opposite of his. “We match!” 

Over time, Kaya’s sickness had taken its toll on her wings, just as on the rest of her. She was always shedding drifts of feathers, leaving her wings looking scrawny and patchy. They were beautiful nonetheless, though, wide and graceful, the surviving feathers bright white. 

“Someday,” he told her, “We’ll go flying, once you’re better and your feathers grow back. And I’ll show you the island where everything is made out of candy, and the trees talk to you!”

She laughed into her hands, wings curling around her. “Do they?” 

“They do!” Usopp confirmed, nodding emphatically. “And they sing, too. But only for kind-hearted girls with white wings. So if we went there, they’d sing for you for sure!” 

She smiled, big and warm and honest. “That sounds lovely, Usopp!” 

Usopp grinned back. 

A couple days later, the pirates came. 

And it was sudden and violent and terrifying, and Klahadore’s massive black vulture wings seemed to block out the sky, and Usopp was sure a dozen times over that he was going to die, but- 

But he didn’t.

By the time it was all over and it was time to set sail, Kaya’s wings were already looking healthier. 

-

“Kid,” the old man had said, the first day on the rock, voice gruff and thick from coughing up seawater. “You still alive?” 

Sanji didn’t say anything, pulling skinny knees to his chest and glaring over the top of them at the old man’s back. The old man had a long piece of driftwood balanced over his knees, and was methodically shredding his shirt into long strips. One of his wings was awkwardly bent in a way that made Sanji cringe to look at. The pain must have been terrible, but the old man’s voice didn’t even shake.

“C’mere. I need your help with something.”

Sanji didn’t move. “What?” he asked, and almost winced at the croak of his own voice. 

“Can’t reach my wing. Busted it against the rocks, and if I don’t set it now it won’t heal right.”

“So?” Sanji muttered sullenly. “What do I care?” 

“You stupid, brat?” the old man asked tiredly, and didn’t even give Sanji time to bristle before he continued, “Your wings ain’t big enough to reach land yet, but you’re little enough to carry. If my wing heals right, I can get us both off this rock. Hopefully before we starve to death.” 

“...How do I know you won’t leave me?” Sanji had asked suspiciously.

The old man looked at him askance over his shoulder, holding himself stiffly so as not to jar his injured wing. “Shit, kid, I might be a pirate, but I’m not a monster. You think I’d just ditch a little kid to die?” 

Sani blinked. Oh.

(It had made Judge so, so angry, that Sanji was the only one of his brothers with wings. It was an embarrassment, an infuriation, that the failure could fly unassisted when the perfect sons could not. It was why he’d been locked away, in a cell where he could never see the sky, where there was no hope at all of flight.)

He inched his way across the craggy stone to the old man, lips pressed tight. He took the stick of driftwood and makeshift bandages and quietly set to work, following the old man’s terse instructions. He wasn’t used to being on this end of it. Normally it was Reiju bandaging his injuries, setting his sprains and broken bones. 

(“You deserve to fly,” she’d said through desperate tears as she shoved him towards the ship, grey-and-violet wings pulled close to her back. “Go!”)

One he had the last clumsy knot tied, the old man gave him some of the food- so little- and they split to wait. For the old man’s broken bones to heal, or for a ship to come. Whichever came first.

And they’d waited, and waited, and waited. 

After the third week, Sanji had started to lose feathers. After the makeshift shelter he’d managed to scrounge together fell apart, his wings provided the only protection from the elements. He huddled behind their shade as the weeks crawled by, agonizingly slowly. 

Fallen black and white feathers littered the stone around him by the time desperation drove him to curl shaking fingers around a knife, and drag himself to the other side of the island, and discover the terrible truth. The knife clattered to the stone, and Sanji collapsed along with it.

It was twenty more days before the old man was well enough to fly. Sanji was half-unconscious with delirium by then, and all he knew of the flight was hunger, and wind, and endless, endless blue. The ocean below, and the cloudless sky above, and nothing at all between.

It never did quite leave his mind. 

“Have you ever heard,” he said, leaning against the railing and turning to look at the idiot in the straw hat, “of the All Blue?”

-

Chopper had never had wings. 

It was just another reason he knew he’d never fit in. No matter how human he could make himself look, he would never have wings, and that would always give him away.

He did know how to treat them, though. Of course he did. A great doctor needed to know those sorts of things. Doctorine had taught him- about wing breaks and sprains, the sort of injuries that could be crippling and the ones where the patient might fly again, her own grey parrot wings flaring dramatically whenever she made a point. 

At the moment, Doctorine was leaning over the unconscious bodies of their three newest patients- the blonde man with the back injury, the girl with the fever, and the black-haired boy. 

“Let’s see here,” she hummed. “Secretarybird, common magpie, and- hm.”

Chopper blinked up at her, intrigued by her sudden silence. Her expression was hard to read. “Doctorine? Is it about that boy’s wings? I saw they were different, and he hasn’t got feathers, is that normal for humans? Is he sick?”

“Not normal,” she agreed absently. “But not unprecedented, either.” She chuckled. “It’s been some time since I last met a D.”

“A… huh?” 

Doctorine waved it off. “Oh, nothing. Get him to a warm room and then prep Mr. Secretarybird there for surgery, will you? I need to find the antibiotics for Miss Magpie, she’s the most urgent of the three.”

“Ah- yes, Doctorine!” Chopper agreed, and bounced into action, and questions about feathers and wings and Ds were quickly forgotten. 

-

Franky didn’t have wings. 

He had had, at one point, though he’d never really cared much about them either way. After all, Tom-san hadn’t had wings, and neither had Kokoro. And it wasn’t like they were any use for shipbuilding, and he didn’t have many places to fly to, anyways. 

Iceberg had taught him how to fly, even though he’d always insisted he didn’t need Iceberg to teach him anything. But it had been useful for getting up to high places that needed construction, or making a quick getaway after breaking something, and- yeah, okay, he could admit it. It was fun. Flying had been fun. 

And then there had been the sea train. And wings were so very fragile. 

By the time he hauled himself aboard the scrap ship with broken hands, he already knew he wouldn’t fly ever again. His wings were wrecked beyond any dream of repair, skin shredded and bones shattered into fragments. Even if he had the ability to create prosthetics lightweight and detailed enough to replace them- which, not to sell himself short, he probably could, given time and materials that he didn’t have- he never would have been able to attach them to the nerves properly, not at that angle. 

No, better just to amputate, and cauterize, and focus on the things he did need: his hands, his eyes, his organs.

And he’d gone on, and it had been fine, and most of the time he barely missed flying at all. 

“Look,” he said, as the Agua Laguna raged outside and the dumb pirate kid refused to listen to reason. “Listen to me, bro. I’m serious. You listening?” 

The kid didn’t answer, but he did pause in hammering away at his dead ship for a moment, which Franky decided to take as a yes. 

“Your ship’s crippled,” Franky said bluntly. “She can’t sail anymore. It’s like- okay, you saw my wings are gone, right?” 

“...Yeah.” 

“Taking that ship to sea,” Franky said, “would be like pushing me off a cliff. There was a time I could’ve survived that just fine, but now it’d smash me to pieces. Your ship’s lost her wings. And no matter what, you can’t fix that.”

The kid stared at him, biting his lip so hard it looked like it might bleed, something cracking in his eyes, black and white wings curling protectively around his shoulders. Franky felt for him, he really did- he knew better than most what it felt like to fight something you couldn’t possibly win to try and save something you loved- but truth was truth, even when it hurt. 

He was just starting to hope he might have finally gotten through when the door crashed open and suddenly, they all had bigger problems to worry about. 

-

Robin’s wings were nondescript. It was useful, in its way, when it came to living in hiding. From the slanderous stories told about her and the people of Ohara, people expected crow, raven, rook- something dark and threatening. Or even featherless demon wings, much like those of her new captain. 

Instead, her wings were simple, uniform dark grey with tawny orange-brown patches spreading from the shoulders. Robin wings. 

Her mother’s had looked much the same, she remembered. It was one of the only details that had stuck in her head about Nico Olvia, as the long years had worn away at the few memories of her mother she had. Most of her mother’s face was a blur, now, but she still remembered a few things: white hair, sad eyes, wings of a mourning dove.

As Spandam dragged her down the Bridge of Hesitation, hands and powers bound, she flapped her wings frantically as hard as she could, even as the chains around her shoulders to weigh her down and stop her flying broke feathers and gouged at skin with every movement. She didn’t even need lift, just to push herself backwards a meter, a foot, an inch- 

If she could buy even a minute, even a second-

Spandam spat an ugly word at her as he was jerked backwards, stumbling for a moment and nearly face-planting onto the bridge before he managed to find his balance. He snarled, grabbed her by the shoulder and hurled her to the ground, driving the air from her lungs with a painful gasp. 

He stomped down hard between her shoulder blades, pinning her down. 

“You know,” he said, sounding almost gleeful, “the Tenryuubito cut off the wings of their slaves. To be sure they’ll never escape. Maybe I’ll recommend that, as part of your judgement. Or…” 

He moved his shoe from the center of her back to press lightly down on one of the delicate wing-joints in her right wing, and her breath caught. 

“Or maybe I’ll just do it myself,” he said. “What do you think, Nico Robin?”

Nico Olvia, with white hair and sad eyes and mourning-dove wings that had been bloodied, perforated by rifle-shots, ruined to stop her from flying away-

They’d aimed for the wings, first. They’d wanted to be sure that not a single scholar could escape. Not one was left uncrippled by the time the marines evacuated the burning wreck of Ohara. 

(Except Robin.)

“It’s not like you’ll be flying ever again, where you’re going,” Spandam continued, starting to press down, and Robin closed her eyes and grit her teeth against the pain and the rising plea for mercy alike. She refused to beg. Her mother had fought to the end, and so would she. 

Then there was a blaze of light, and a crash, and a fireball caught Spandam perfectly in the head, and Robin was saved. 

(Though, perhaps, if she was honest with herself, she’d been saved a very long time ago.)

-

When Brook had been alive, his wings had been soft, plain uniform brown. 

Nightingale, Yorki had laughed, one late night when they were sorting through a wing glossary one of the crewmen had picked up on the latest island, trying to place everyone’s wings. Oi, Brook, no wonder you’ve got the best singing voice on the ship.

Brook had warbled out a few notes in response, as horrifically flat and off-pitch as he could physically manage, and Yorki had nearly cracked a rib laughing. 

But wings rotted away just like all other flesh, and by the time Brook crawled his way back to the world of the living, they were nothing but bones and a drift of soft brown feathers, shed on the rotting planks. He tucked a few of the feathers away in an inside pocket of his coat, just in case they helped Laboon to recognize him, someday. 

Catching the remnants of his wings in the corners of his eyes (ah, but he didn’t have those anymore-), grasping and skeletal, always caught him off guard, almost worse than catching sight of his reflection. The bare, bright white stood in such contrast to the soft brown he was so used to seeing that he thought he would never truly get used to it. He couldn’t imagine anyone else would, either. 

And then- 

“Your wings are awesome, Brook!” Luffy said, bright and enthusiastic and entirely sincere, sprawled on his back on the piano. His wings were splayed out beneath him- featherless and red, entirely unlike any Brook had never seen before. “They’re so cool!”

For a moment, Brook couldn’t find words. (How unsuiting, for a songsmith.) And then he said, “Why, thank you, Luffy-san. I should tell you, though… I’m afraid they’re not good for much. I can no longer fly.”

Luffy blinked, and then said, “So? I can’t, neither.” 

“...You can’t?”

Luffy snickered, grinning. “Nah! My wings only sorta work. Something ‘bout my devil fruit and my bones or something. I don’t really get it. But it doesn’t matter! I mean, I can just rocket to places. And you too, right? You can run on water! That’s so cool!”

Brook looked at Luffy’s beaming grin for a long moment, and couldn’t stop the urge to smile back, even though he had no lips with which to do so. 

And then he said, “May I join your crew?” 

Luffy laughed like the best song Brook had ever heard. “Sure!”

#my writing #ill fly away #opfic #op #one piece #straw hat crew #ugh so many characters to tag... #zoro #kuina #nami #luffy #usopp #kaya #sanji #red leg zeff #chopper #kureha #franky #nico robin #brook

[twisted-nox-sidus]

Hello, I hope your well. I really love Strix and the headcannons you write. Now that we know that the dorm leaders have Overblotted. Can you do a headcannon where the headmaster has them on prohibition and has Strix supervises them while they recovered. Thank you and stay safe.

Anon continued: I almost forgot, during my last post, only Riddle and Leona was shown to have gone to their Overblot mode. Since Azul’s Overblot is coming this late April while the others are coming soon. If you have the time, can you please do a headcannon where like I’ve asked, the headmaster has them on prohibition places them on the Ramshackle Dorm under Strix’s care & supervision. Thank you, stay safe and have a good day or night.

I’m taking this as an advantage to slip in some romantic hints (cuz the boys fell for her in one way or another, especially after she snap them out through a therapist session), so this is a little self-indulgent lol. 

Post-Overblot Prohibition Club

Riddle Rosehearts

As a supervisor, Strix should have expected to be tasked with this job Crowley assigned her. Being the therapist of a school of egotistical boys is not what she had signed up for.

Riddle felt guilty for degrading her status as a non-magic user. He had said it pretty cruelly with a smile, he admits as he looked away ashamed.

That’s what’s keeping him down? She was surprised he even remembered that.

Strix placed a hand atop his head and stared. Her eyes bored him mysteriously. “Yeah.”

A wide blush instantly colored his cheeks the same color as his hair. “What was that?! Why did you just say ‘yeah’?!”

“Hm. I wonder.”

She likes to tease Riddle a lot, but her touch is gentle. Her impression on Riddle became better once she understood why he became this way.

“I know this is cruel to say, but it was better for you to Overblot than suppressing it. Now that you released everything out, you can start over from zero.” Strix told him. The same would apply to future Overblots she had a feeling she’ll come across, not just from Riddle.

Riddle avoids making eye contact with her serene blue gaze. She didn’t have to remind him how he bursted into tears like a toddler...

He notices her still staring at him. “...What? If you have something else to say then say it.”

She propped an elbow atop the knee of her crossed legs and held her cheek as she stared with a mirthful shimmer in her eyes. “You’re cute.”

Riddle choked and almost fell off the bed. How did she say that with a straight face? Does she enjoy teasing the hell out of him?

“Yes I do.” “How-?!” “Your face speaks louder than words, little ladybug~” “Don’t call me that!”

Leona Kingscholar

Strix couldn’t believe she had to do this the second time. The term hadn’t even passed half way and there’s been two Overblot incidents already. NRC is on a roll.

Leona gets bored easily in the rundown dorm. That’s why most of their time together is spent playing chess.

Leona learns Strix has one hell of a poker face. He couldn’t tell if that was natural or if she really was putting on a mask. Sometimes it may fall between the two. Perhaps even the girl herself doesn’t even know.

He wants to test the waters. How flustered can this blank-faced owl really be. Boredom drives the feline’s curiosity.

“Oi, supervisor. Fix my bedding. It’s uncomfortable.” A roll of her eyes. “As you wish, ‘your highness’...”

After she fluffed the pillow and smoothed the wrinkles, she was about to leave when a long tail wraps around her wrist.

“...Do you need something else?”

He plops back on the bed and turns to his side, facing her. His tail still wrapped snugly on her small wrist, he pulls her hand to his lips, teeth lightly grazing the soft flesh base of her thumb. Striking green eyes look up beneath his lashes. “Your undivided attention.”

Strix jolted. Shivers crawled down her spine. What. The. Hell. Damn that was smooth, but she’ll die before admitting it to him.

Strix pursed her quivering lips. She then released a sigh; a delicious blush was evident on her porcelain white cheeks, contrasting her vivid eyes that remind him of the clear sunny blue skies of his homeland.

Her stiff hand slowly relaxed on his skin. Long slim fingers brush his hair and massage his scalp. “I didn’t think you’re so needy for affection...” She mumbled, avoiding his gaze. He really is a cat in and out.

Leona closed his eyes and smirked in triumphant content, ears twitching twice. He could say the same for her.

Azul Ashengrotto

Strix simply sipped her tea as she relives this scene for the third time. “Welcome to the Post-Overblot Prohibition club. Be glad you fixed the dorm after the first two. You’d be eating dust first thing in the morning.”

“Is this how you treat your guests? With that kind of hospitality?” “Try being in my shoes. I get underpaid dealing with everyone’s nonsense, including you I’ll have you know.”

After Azul Overblotted, he suddenly became more intrigued with Strix, as if he wasn’t already due to her appearance of a beautiful mermaid. Even the fish mistook her for one when she was admiring the underwater view from behind the glass.

“You would fit in swimmingly with the merfolk if you were a mermaid yourself, Strix.” He’d say with smooth buttery sweetness that fell to nothing on her ears as Strix fixed his bedding.

“I’m good walking with my feet, thank you.” She had already attracted the merfolk visiting the museum, who mistook her for a mermaid in the disguise of a human. Everyone there, man and woman, old and child, thought she was very beautiful as a human. Imagine her being a mermaid.

“I can make it happen, you know. The underwater sea seems to treat you much kindly than the earth.” Azul was testing her. Where does her soul truly desire? She can’t deny her heart.

Strix was quiet, not once sparing a glance his way. “...Maybe so. The merpeople seem nice, but I bet that was because of my looks. Regardless, I want to remain on land. The people I love are not from the sea. Otherwise, I’d gladly take your offer. Putting that aside...”

Strix grips Azul’s jaw, holding a spoonful of steamy warm porridge made by yours truly.

“Eat your damn porridge, you junk-foodie octopus!”

Azul can’t wait to finally get out of this hell hole.

#twisted wonderland #my post #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #strix noctowl #headcanon asks #anon #dorm leaders #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto

[nadiaportia]

Familiar Faces - A Past Tale

Summary: A fugitive plans her next move to leave behind her old life until she crosses paths with a magician who wishes to see behind the facade.

Starring Asra Alnazar and Ximena Rubalcada.

“Ha! You're very welcome, Kestrel, this's payback for last week!” The man laughed loudly as he took the coins of the table, much to the dismay of the other players.

“Oi, Viv, drink of their choice for everyone in here, my treat!”, he said to the smirking bartender. People around him cheered and even I lifted my empty jar of beer in acknowledgement before turning back to looking at the map laid out in front of me.

Several spots were marked; places I had traveled to in the last 5 years and ultimately never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. Technically my two month stay in this backwater town a five day journey away from Macawi Port had already been too long but I liked it here well enough and the people enjoyed having a magician among them. No one bothered to ask questions, something that wasn't the norm in places like this - the smaller the village, the more suspicious its inhabitants were of strangers.

But here I had been able to rent two rooms over a bakery, one for me to live in and the other to do business in - making wards and remedies for small maladies, casting protective charms and reading my customers' cards was run-of-the-mill stuff which I had already done before and always managed to be a hit with the locals. I had not been asked yet to do some of the shady stuff people with no morals would ask for, such as brewing love potions or cursing their rivals, and was more than glad for it.

Viv the bartender waved at me and pointed at the finished drink in my hand: beer with two vermouth shots. I nodded. My real alcoholic drink of choice -  Cartagense liquor that tastes like herbs and vanilla - would've been too much to ask for in a place that on most days didn't even offer something besides beer. I doubted the people here had ever even heard of Cartagenth existing but the risk of getting discovered was something worth worrying about, no matter how small it was.

I eyed the city of Hjalle on the Western coast of the Strait of Seals. I had never gone to the South before; nothing about this place had any appeal for me whatsoever, be it the known lawlessness or the biting cold, but it was known that from Hjalle ships left to places much further away than from Nevivon, to the Far East and even to other continents. The language barrier would surely be a problem if I decided to take the jump over the ocean but I couldn't be the only traveler from here and lingua francas surely had to exist, which would make everything a lot easier. The bigger problem was that I couldn't tell how much money I'd need to take such a ship, especially if since I had to spend some coins to take the journey from Macawi Port to Hjalle first, and from what I heard it was a decently sized city - less than perfect conditions.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the tavern door swinging open and saw two people entering. Both wore dark travelers' cloaks, which was exactly where their similarities ended. The taller and apparently older one of them had long flaming green hair, skin white like paper and their eyes hid behind orange glasses that made them look like an exotic insect and extremely out of place. The shorter one had a head full of white curls, golden brown skin, and… was that a snake that had just disappeared in his cloak? I raised an eyebrow. Strangers were not only a rare sight in here but extravagant strangers? That was downright fishy.

“Hey there, travelers, c'mon over! 'S always nice t'see new faces! Viv, two beer for these fine folks!” The lucky winner of the card game waved them over his table. The newcomers looked at each other, seemed to agree and approached them.

“Good evening. It's always nice to arrive to a place and have such a warm welcome.” The insect spoke with a high melodic voice. Both had their backs turned to me so I couldn't see their faces, and standing up to move would surely seem suspicious.

“What're your names? Mine's Cygni, that one over there’s Viv, and these are Kestrel, Alexei and Yelma.” He gestured to the other players.

Both travelers pulled chairs to the table and shrugged of their cloaks. “I'm Saray and my companion here,”, they put a hand on said companion's shoulder, “is Asra. We come from the city of Vesuvia on the other side of the Salty Sea.”

“Proper northerners, eh? That's pretty far away, has anyone here ever been t’Vesuvia?”

Various “No's” were said from all corners. I generally kept away from big places after unpleasant run-ins with Cartagense in Bizatena and Karnassos, and had kept an extremely low profile afterwards. Vesuvia wasn't exactly a place that screamed 'This is where you should hide!' to me and even though never having heard of any treaties between its sovereign and Cartagenth, this could have changed in the meantime.  

“What 'bout you, Magali? You're from some place on the other side of the Sea.”

I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head and forced myself to take the deep breaths. There was nothing I wished more for the ground to open and swallow me whole. I looked up from the card to see the travelers and Cygni look at me with curiosity in their eyes. The insect's, Saray, eyes were still hidden behind glasses whereas their companion's, Asra, were a light purple and framed by long white lashes.

“Yes, from Nopal.” I said, keeping my voice as cold and uninterested as I could. I had no interest in speaking to these travelers or in them shoving their noses into my business.

The one called Asra perked up. “Oh, really? It's such a beautiful place, I've only been there once but it's breathtaking.”

I felt my eyelid twitch. “Yes, it is.” I pressed the words out more than speaking them and made a point to turn my attention back to the map in front of me. A single bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck.

“Don't mind her, she's a very busy woman. Y'know, Magali is a magician who has settled down only a few weeks ago-” I tuned out the next of Nevil's words and fought against my rising desire to hex his mouth shut. Keeping my eyes glued on the map without really seeing what I was pretending to look at, I deeply wished to have the ability to disappear right here and now. Great, now the strangers' attention was on me without a doubt and my wish to bolt for the door when I saw the one named Asra get up from his chair and make his way over to my booth was almost suffocating.

“May I? I'm sorry for being so excited but it's just… it's such a coincidence to walk into a foreign tavern that far from home and meet another magician!”

If I had ever suspected the spirits that controlled the ways of the World had all come together in some shady backroom to conspire against me personally, this must've be the definitive proof of it. There was no way in hell that this could be a coincidence, I wouldn't have it or a friendly chat with this Asra.

“I suppose so. But as your new friend had already said, I'm quite busy and would like to be left alone.” I said coldly and cursed myself for never actually having gone to Nopal, otherwise I would've been able to learn the accent, but who would've known I'd meet someone who has actually been there in a village which most people have probably never left? After all, it was technically true, with the Rubalcabas originally coming from Nopal, but who was going to explain details?

Asra's shoulders slumped and his expression saddened.

“Of course, I understand. Apologies for disturbing you.” Something in his clothes shuffled and my eyes went wide when a snake crawled out of his left sleeve. It looked at me with the same curiosity its owner had given me and blinked.

Friend!

I jumped from the chair, hitting my kneecaps against the table in the process and gasped at the sudden pain.

“Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!” Asra was at my side in an instant and put his hand on my back as I bent over in pain. “Faust usually knows better than to frighten people, I guess she was just as excited as I was.”

I waved away his concern and bit my lip and I sat back down while rubbing my knees.

“No, don't blame your familiar. Wasn't her fault. Mine's like that too-.”

I bit my tongue just as I realized what I had just said. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“You also have an familiar?” His eyes went wide and he beamed at me. Instead of an answer I coughed and tried to look at put together as I could.

“Of course, all true magicians have one. Now, please…” I turned my attention back to the map, feeling my heart flutter in my chest. But he didn't move away, in fact he didn't stop staring at me. Strangely enough, I didn't sense any danger from him and something about his youthful face and his eyes gave me the sensation of… trust. But spies could have any age; in fact the younger they were, the less people suspected them to be spies, and sometimes being unsubtle even played into their hands.

“Oh, that sure is true, but you don't need to be a trained magician to have one! All you need is to be decent at magic and have a connection to an animal.”

“Hmpfh.” Of course I knew that, did he take me for a fool?

“You certainly traveled very far, I see you have been to Prakra and Firent-”

I pulled the map away from the table and his eyes, rolling it together.

“Okay, I get it, you don't want people shoving their nose into your business.” He spoke with resignation and sighed loudly. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I thought I made that very clear.”

Asra ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “I know, but please, I- I can't explain it but-” Then he seemed to have an idea. “Do a reading for me.”

“Come again?”

“A reading. Let the cards tell you what to do.”

“I don't need cards to tell me what to do: I'm leaving.” Map in the hand, I stood up and passed by Viv, who opened their mouth to ask me why I was leaving even though I was just about to get my drink.

“Please, I- I came here for you.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart stopped beating in my chest and blood freeze in my veins. Heat built around my fingers and I considered the situation I was in. Viv was still standing behind me, if I were to attack now they could get caught in a crossfire. The tavern was half full with more than enough witnesses and the door was too far away for my likening.

I slowly turned around “What?”

Viv, still standing between one, ducked and hurried out of our way, not before throwing me a wide-eyed look. Asra sighed, his face flushed from nervosity and also what I suspected to be embarrassment.

“Look, I don't know why but something called me to this village and I think it was you. I don't know who you are or what you do, I just felt something familiar when I looked at you.” He sighed. Now I had heard all kinds of talk about intuition and prophetic dreams, be it from other magicians or back home, but this right here just seemed a little too far-fetched - or painfully honest.

“I give you a reading, understood? Let me get my cards from my place, and don't try anything funny like following me.” I snarled but to my surprise, he held out his hand as if to stop me.

“Here, take mine.” He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a deck of dark blue tarot cards. I eyed them suspiciously and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I won't use another magician's deck, I'm no fool.”

Asra shrugged. “Really? I didn't think there'd be people left who still believed in that particular superstition. But fine, get your own cards.”

I frowned. “I'm not superstitious.”

Asra sat down in the seat opposite the one I had occupied and put the deck in front of him. “Good, so let's get started. I'll let you get a feeling for them.” He winked at me and a mischievous smirk played about his lips. “How am I supposed to trick you by letting you use my cards? Hexing them? Besides, a true magician should be able to call the bluff.”

My face went hot as I made my way back to the table. “I know. I'm just being cautious.” The Vesuvian was definitely more at ease once I sat down and gave me an encouraging smile. I took the deck and looked at the cards. They were obviously self-made, the depictions of the Major and Minor Arcana unique, with the archetype being represented by humanoids with animal heads. The deck felt… friendly, and not in a false way. I shuffled the cards and laid out three in front of him all while not taking my eyes off him. Neither did he, and his smirk widened as I arched an eyebrow as if to ask him why he seemed to want to challenge me.

I took the card in the middle first. Two snakes were embracing and looking at each other lovingly. The Lovers, upright. I frowned, yet the words spoken to me by the two snake people were clear as crystal; in fact, they were the clearest reading I have ever done. There was no doubt what the cards were trying to tell me, they were incapable of lying to me.

“Oh, the Lovers! Most curious.” Asra said and looked from the card to me.

“You are on your path to begin a new relationship, but it can only be successful if you make yourself clear in what your intentions are. Once you manage to connect, it will only make both parties stronger through their shared bond.” I said the words half to him, half to myself, and looked inquisitively at the card. I half-way expected it to laugh in my face and call bullshit but nothing of the sort happened.

“So… there we go.” I finished, trying to ignore how unsure I sounded. “Good news to you, I suppose.”

Asra smiled. “Might I return the favor?”

I blinked. Here? No way.

“Not the best place.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward silence between us, until I took a deep breath. Please, intuition, don't fail me now. If he does turn out to be a spy or an assassin, I'll never trust my gut and judgment ever again.

“My place is just a stone's throw away from here.”

The Vesuvian blinked in surprise and pursed his lips, then he seemed to realize what face he was making and instantly put on a more serious expression.

“Of course. Just let me tell my traveling companion that I'm… uh, gone for a bit.”

“Fine. But I don't want them to suddenly pop up there too.”

He nodded and walked back to the table where the insect and the card players were seated, all deep in conversation.

“Asra, my dearest, are you done with your magician business? If yes, join us for a game of cards, these fine people are most entertaining to be around with!” Saray said. They had still not taken off their glasses but from the accent in their speech I suspected them to belong to one of the many ethnic groups that lived in Prakra.

“Not yet, Saray, Magali actually wanted to show me her workplace.”

The card players looked at each other and smirked. The one called Yelma let out a wolf whistle.

“Let's be quick about it.” I murmured and snapped my fingers to get Asra's attention. Together we exited the tavern and I closed the door behind us.

We crossed the market place, passed by the small fountain in its center and reached the bakery. A brief fumble for my keys, a door being opened and we went up the stairs into the first floor.

“Guess your place always smells really nice.” Asra said.

“Yes. They also wake up at four in the morning to start working.”

He laughed as I entered the first room, the one where I usually worked in. A soft and questioning chirp got both our attention when I light up a candle from afar.

Segismundo looked at me from his usual sitting spot and tilted his head.

“Yeah, I know. Visitors that late are rare but don't worry about it.” I said to my familiar as he flew onto my outstretched arm.

“Oh, what a beautiful Quetzal! What’s his name?”

“Segismundo.”

“Very nice to meet you, Segismundo, my name is Asra and this here,”, he caressed the snake that had crawled out of his sleeve again, “is Faust. Sorry for disturbing you, you were probably sleeping.”

Segismundo looked from him to me and then to Faust, who herself was looking at him with pure curiosity. Ruffling his feathers, he shook himself and flew back to where he was before, right behind my seat.

“He doesn't take kindly to strangers.” I explained. I didn't mention that the fact that Segismundo didn't alert me but merely checked on who exactly was invading our space was a good sign... for them as much as for me.

“Familiars tend to be like their magicians.” Asra smirked and sat down at the low table where I would usually sit at with customers. “Quetzals are usually native to the rainforests beyond the Catclaw Desert so I guess you might be Nopali - even if Magali is a name I have heard a lot often when it belonged to people from Venterre.”

I said nothing and opened a drawer to get the tarot deck.

“Do you want something to drink or a snack? You didn't have anything at the tavern, if memory serves right.”

“A tea, but maybe for another day, I like to let it brew for a bit and I don't think you want me to be here longer than absolutely necessary. Snacks would be appreciated though, what do you have?”

“Hazelnuts and almonds.” The sooner I got rid of them, the better. These Eastern sweets had nothing on the deliciousness of roasted cocoa beans and maracuyas.

“Oh, why not?” All too happy I handed him the bowl on top of the drawer. “Since you used my cards to do my reading, I'd ask you to let me use me yours. You can decline, of course, but-” Wordlessly I handed him over my deck before he could continue and crossed my arms.

“Oh, thank you.” In the candlelight I got a much better look at the Vesuvian magician and studied his face as he regarded the cards. His hair looked soft to their touch and reminded me of cloudy summer days in Cartagenth. His skin was clean without any wrinkles but with a healthy glow to it, his eyes had a spark of mischief in them and a mysterious smile seemed to be his default expression. He couldn't be beyond his early twenties.

“Those are very beautiful cards, I don't think I have ever seen a design like this.”

“Thank you, they were a family heirloom.” Technically the truth. My cousin Agustín, the only close family member I had left who didn't hate me or wanted my death had given them to me in a back alley in Bizatena, shortly before I had seen him for the last time. He had previously stolen them from his mother's, my aunt, collection of magical artefacts and given them to me as a parting gift. You have a lot more use for them than if they were to catch dust, he had told me before I had wrapped my arms around his neck to embrace him.

“Your name.”

“Huh?”

“I need your true name. The identity you are the most attached to, and something tells me it's not Magali of Venpal.” He smiled at me as if to encourage me.

I didn't return the smile but merely exhaled a deep breath. All in or nothing, even though I felt no danger from this strange wandering magician.

“Ximena.”

“Ximena.” He repeated, as if to try out how it felt pronouncing my name. “I like it. It fits you more than the one from your disguise.” He winked, and I felt color rush to my ears and my face.

“Well, here goes nothing.” I murmured and broke our eye contact.

Three cards were in front of us. I felt a pull towards the one on the far left, and I knew that Asra did so too. Before he had even turned the card around I knew exactly what it was going to be.

“The Moon, reversed.” I whispered and felt Asra's, Faust's and Segismundo eyes on me as I looked at the card which showed a lobster looking up at a crescent.

“You're afraid. In fact, you have been afraid for a very long time, so long that you learned to live with your fear as it was choking the life out of you but as of right now it's threatening to overwhelm you and you don't know what to do.” Asra’s voice was calm and serene, but there was an unmistakable sadness in it too. For some reason, I felt extremely ashamed and embarrassed as he spoke. He leaned back and looked right in my face. “Take a closer look at those fears, analyze and combat them. Only then you'll know what to do next, and it won't be a rash decision but what's meant to be right.”

Neither of us said something. I was the first one who broke the silence after what seemed like a small infinity. “You should go.” My voice didn't sound as strong and steady as I would've wanted it to, but Asra nodded. “I did what I came here for, and you made it clear you wanted to be left alone afterwards. I respect that.”

He stood up and bowed his head. I followed his example. “Thank you.” It was all I managed to reply to that.

“I will stay here for perhaps a couple of days, I suspect we will run into each other again, since this place is small.” I nodded in response, that was very within the realm of possibilities. “Have a good night, Ximena. And you too, Segismundo.” He nodded in acknowledgement to Segismundo, who returned the nod with a tilt of his head.

“A good night to you and Faust too.” I fumbled with my hands. “Get some rest.”

“Thank you, we will.” Another small smile stole itself onto his lips and I stood up to lead him out of the room. When I closed the door behind him and we were once again alone, Segismundo regarded me with a curious look. Well, he was interesting to say the least.

“You don't say.” I sighed and made my way over to him.

He seemed like he knew you but at the same time didn't. The one named Faust had looked at me as if she had already met me, and I felt the same way.

“Have you ever-”

No. You know exactly I have never.

“Hm.” I put a hand to my chin. “I'm sure there is an explanation behind all this.”

What about the reading? You know he's right. Do you really think going to Hjalle will make our problems disappear just like that?

I blinked. “Of course not.” My words came out more sharply than I intended them too.

Good, because we had this discussion too many times now. Also, neither of us have a fondness for the cold.

I rubbed my temples. “I'm gonna have to sleep a night over this. Or two. Or seven.”

Segismundo took off and onto my shoulder. As he gently rubbed his head against my cheek, I caressed his emerald green plumage.

That's a good idea. The Moon is shining now, but tomorrow the Sun will.

#the arcana #asra the arcana #asra the magician #apprentice ximena #my writing #beta readers? never heard of them #two fics in less than four days? you love to see it! #i spent way too much time deciding which animal her familiar should be bc i was torn between two lol #the other choice was a giant ant eater but i figured that i should still have her have smth in common w the fam #wrt decisions... i know asra's card is painfully cliché so i had to think better abt the one ximena gets and good god that was a process #also: whoever finds the three easter eggs i built in that have to do w stuff i like or work w gets a smooch from ximena her familiar and me

[ikonct95]

Jolene

Pairing: johnny x reader

Genre: jealousy + angst

Warnings: affair, unhappy ending, self conciseness. 

Word Count: 1886

A/N: pretty obvious what inspired this lol also, this is a repost from my marvel blog (@sgtduckybucky) so this isn’t plagiarized! 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You and Johnny have been together for nine years now. Four of those nine years, you’ve been married.

You had met in an intro to business class in your freshman year of college. And in your senior year, he had proposed to You. After the both of you graduated, the two of you were married by the sea. It was a beautiful ceremony that involved all of your close friends and family.

You didn’t have any kids yet, but that’s okay. The both of you were happy being married for this long and when the time was right, You knew You’d be pregnant soon as long as the both of you loved each other.

However, things began to change between you.

It all started about a month ago when Johnny returned home with a smile on his lips and a slight bounce in his step.

“Well, look at you all happy and bouncy.” You had commented while placing the salad bowl on the table.

“Hmm, work was good today.” He commented absent minded, stealing a piece of bread and tearing it in half before shoving one half in his mouth.

It wasn’t unusual for Johnny to have a good day at work. He worked as an investor and, although it can be stressful, Johnny loved his job. So it would make sense that he would be happy after work.

“That’s nice, what happened?” You asked, happy that your husband was happy. You listened to his retelling of his day at work, commenting when necessary showing that You were listening and were supporting him.

After that day, everything went down hill. He’d come back home late, claiming that the meetings he was attending lasted longer than they were scheduled.

You bit your lip as your instincts whispered to You that he was lying and that he was hiding something from You, but You ignored it and brushed those thoughts aside.

One day, You decided to go to his office and drop off his lunch, Buchimgae, a favorite Korean dish of his childhood.

“Good morning, Mrs. Seo.” Johnny’s secretary, Jennifer, greeted You brightly, a kind smile on her lips.

“Good morning, Jennifer.” You greeted back with a smile of your own, “Is Johnny available?” You asked.

Jennifer looked down at her notebook then at her wrist watch, “He should be coming out from a meeting right about now.”

“Thank you! Say hi to your mother for me.” You waved at the young woman before making your way to your husband’s office, greeting every worker You recognized.

You turned to the corner and stepped into the hallway that led You to Johnny’s office, but your smile faltered at the scene before You.

Johnny, holding a file open, was standing beside a redheaded woman, laughing at whatever they were talking about. It seemed innocent, yes, but she was standing dangerously close to Johnny, her hand resting on his arm. And the fact that You’ve known your husband for nine years, You could easily read his body language. He was relaxed, and enjoying her company.

Your heels clicked against the wooden floor was You walked to his office, knocking on the door twice before letting yourself in, interrupting the two.

“Honey!” Johnny greeted merrily, failing to hide his surprise of your arrival, “What are you doing here?”

You looked between the woman and your husband, forcing yourself not to sneer at the woman, “I brought you lunch, Your favorite.” Instead, You smiled and extended your hand that was holding the steel container.

“Awe, you’re an angel.” Johnny leaned forward and pecked your cheek, his hand taking the container and putting it on his desk.

“Whose this?” You asked when he pulled away.

You noticed the slight hesitation before Johnny answered, “This is Jolene, the new CEO of the company.” He gestured at her.

“Jolene, this is my wife, Y/N.” He placed his hand on your waist.

“Nice to meet you.” The redheaded woman extended her hand, her fake smile was obvious since it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Like wise.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Later that night, You sat in your bedroom, remembering the events of the day. Jolene was a beautiful woman, far more beautiful than You were. It would be unfair to compare the two of you.

Her flaming locks of auburn hair were sleeked back into a professional looking bun. Her skin was an ivory color and her eyes were of emerald green that were more captivating than your own eyes.

You didn’t leave Johnny after being introduced to Jolene, You stayed there a bit longer to try and understand the relationship between your husband and the new CEO.

The two seemed to have their own inside jokes that left Johnny red in the face whenever he laughed too hard, something that You’d never seen before.

She didn’t laugh, only smiled. And her smile, gosh her smile. Her smile was like a breath of spring. And her voice was soft like summer rain. She didn’t sound or look real at all, she reminded You of those robot wives from the movie Stepford Wives with how well dressed she was.

You tried not to blush in embarrassment earlier that day at how simple you looked compared to her. Your hair hung loose, reaching to your mid-back. You were wearing a simple yellow dress that was meant for indoor purposes only. You had no make up on, just a few accessories. You looked like nothing compared to her.

Two months after meeting her, Johnny would return even later than he usually would, later than his “late meetings.” He would return well past one o’clock in the morning.

You’d pretend that You were sleeping as he clumsily and noisily undressed and get under the covers to lie next to You then kiss your cheek.

As he fell asleep, You forced yourself not to cry as your nose was invaded by the strong perfume, the perfume You remember smelling on Jolene when You first met her.

You would stay awake for hours, sat up in bed and just watched as Johnny slept beside You, unaware of the silent tears that You shed.

Unaware of the fact that he talks about her in his sleep. Unaware of the fact that You were silently hyperventilating as he called another woman’s name, her name. Jolene.

It was easily understandable how this happened, how Johnny would return home smelling of her and calling for her in his sleep for she was a very beautiful and charming woman.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next day, You decided to meet with Jolene.

You were dressed in all white, lips painted in deep red, lashes coated in mascara and eyelids lined with black eyeliner.

You waited at the reception as Jennifer called Jolene, uncertain on why You wanted to drink coffee with a woman You barely knew.

But Jolene came to the reception, dressed in all red, making her skin look paler and her hair even redder than it is.

Your heart clenched in pain at her beauty, feeling self conscious of your own appearance.

Things were quiet at the cafe. You were tensed while Jolene was awkward, though she made sure not to show it.

“Jolene,” You called her name in a raspy voice, You cleared your throat as she gave You her full attention, “I…I know what you and Johnny are doing.”

She looked unsurprised by this, she looked…bored.

“And I can easily understand how you could easily take my man but you don’t know what he means to me, Jolene.” Your heart was beating faster and faster with every word You uttered.

Johnny, the man You’ve loved for the past nine years, meant the whole world to You. He was your everything. And this…this woman just waltz in and takes him away from You without knowing about the damage she’s causing.

“Jolene, I’m begging of you please don’t take my man.” Your voice broke off at the end as your throat ran dry at the thought of Johnny leaving You for her, “Please don’t take him just because you can.”

Jolene didn’t say anything. She wanted You to let everything off of your chest and let You have your moment. After all, she had Johnny wrapped around her finger and the fact that You came to see her is evidence for her that Johnny would be making a big decision soon. She made sure not to smirk at that fact.

“You could have your choice of men.” You stated, eyes roaming over her body and her beautiful face.

She chuckled awkwardly while not unkindly rolling her emerald green eyes.

“But I could never love again,” Your voice sounded weak, “He’s the only one for me, Jolene.” You reached your hand across the table and held onto hers.

You’ve loved Johnny for so long that You weren’t sure how You could move on from all of this and love someone else. You’ve never loved anyone before Johnny, never even been in a single relationship before being with him. You were sure that, if God forbid, he divorced You, it would end You.

“I had to have this talk with you, my happiness depends on you and whatever you decide to do, Jolene” You clenched her hand tightly, your eyes begging her with the words that were difficult for you to utter.

Please don’t take Johnny away from me. I would die without him, he’s the world to me. Please, Jolene.

Jolene lowered her gaze to her hand being held by yours then locked gazes with your eyes, eyes that were filled with desperation and pain.

Wordlessly, she let go of your hand and stood up to leave the cafe.

You sat alone, stunned. Positive that she would take Johnny away from You. An affair was one thing, but him leaving You for another woman, now that was too much.

Quietly, You too exited the cafe and stepped out into the rain.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Honey, is that You?” Johnny called out from your bedroom while You closed the house door and hung your raincoat.

“Y-yes.” You cleared your throat.

“Did you go somewhere?” He asked stepping into the living room while tying his tie.

“You’re leaving?” You asked.

“Yeah, we’re having dinner with important clients.” He answered while standing in front of You, his tie loose and crumpled.

Quietly, You gripped his tie and began tying it.

You inhaled sharply as Johnny wiped away your tear with his thumb. He cupped your cheeks, bringing your face upwards and kissed your lips for a few seconds, mouth unmoving. A soft pop reached your ears as he pulled away.

You dropped your hands once You finished with his tie.

He looked down and smiled at your work.

“Gotta go,” He pecked your cheek.

“I love you.” Johnny said before quickly exiting your house.

“I love you too.” You said hoarsely, numbly walking to your bedroom and sitting on your bed.

One, two, three tear drops landed on your hands before You brought them up to cover your face and cried, cried loudly at your marriage falling apart.

When You were done crying, hiccuping every few seconds, You wordlessly got up and took out one of the large suitcases You kept under your bed and dumped all of your clothes into it. Numbly, You put on your coat and left the house without looking back.

#kwritersworldnet #johnny x reader #johnny seo x reader #johnny seo scenario #johnny seo imagine #johnny x you #johnny seo x you #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct x reader

[seekingseven]

The Most Sincere Kind of Lie (Ch1)

Chapter 1 of my Linked Universe fanfic, let’s see how this baby goes down! Also available to read here on AO3

┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┑

Hyrule's Hyrule did not feel like a Hyrule.

A calm, somber, empty wind threaded its way through the sky and forest and swamps, stirring up the stagnant dust lying on abandoned pathways and tugging curiously at the Links' clothing. The road they walked along was hard and flat, unfamiliar with the shifting anxiousness of wandering travelers and unwilling to leave any memory of their footprints behind. Streams mumbled and grumbled to the south, and the dark, seductive lullaby of the forest wafted in from the north. Hauntingly beautiful and terribly desolate was the only way to describe this place. Not even three hours of walking had yielded sight of a single other traveler aside from themselves.

Hyrule wasn't bothered by this, however. In fact, the traveler had an extra skip in his step and sparkle in his smile, excitedly weaving through the crowd of his incarnations and pointing out distant shadows of distant places with infectious enthusiasm. Infectious enthusiasm was the only proper term for it; Hyrule's amicable and eager attitude had contaminated everyone in the group. Sky hummed a lullaby as they walked along, bopping his head slowly as Wind thumped out the time signature on his chest. Four, Wild and Wars were all huddled around the traveler, trying to guess the names and places of things ahead of them while Hyrule laughed and occasionally applauded their efforts. Even Time and Twilight stared at the darkening sky and pointed out the timid pinpricks of light above, grinning like love-struck fools when Hyrule named each constellation and detailed the lore behind them.

On the other hand, Legend was very much bothered by their current situation. Even after hours of walking, he had no idea where Hyrule was taking them. He had no idea where, or even if, they were going to sleep tonight. Were they going to have dinner? Discuss a battle strategy or cover story for their ragtag group before they eventually ended up in some Nayru-forsaken town? Legend glared at the armor on Time's back. Of all people, Old Man should have had the presence of mind to lay out some semblance of a plan. But instead, he had an arm draped around Hyrule's shoulder and another on Twilight's, looking up at the stars as if they were the answer to all his most profound questions and desires. A smart bunch his incarnations were, Legend thought. They might as well run off the path at full speed and wait for wild monsters to tear them apart if everyone was going to be this idyllic and dopey. Yeah. Idiots. That's all they were. Legend brooded and nurtured his dissatisfaction with paternal meticulousness, almost enjoying the feeling of disgust blooming between his ribs. He thought of how much his feet hurt and how heavy his eyelids felt. What he would give for a good meal and a warm blanket and twenty seconds of reprieve from the noise and racket around him. His eyebrows slipped low over his face, his mouth twisted into its typical grimace, his movements slowed as he began to lag behind the rest of the group.

Goddesses above, he was so, so, so tired.

The silvery, boisterous sound of Sky's laughter shattered the silence Legend had grown extremely fond of over the last few minutes. The disgruntled hero stared up from his feet and stifled a groan as he processed the chaos in front of him. Wind was carrying Sky on his shoulders, swaying back and forth as the former's power bracelet twinkled crazily under the moonlight, and a piggyback race had been declared. Four had hoisted himself on Warriors' back without a second thought, and the two were off, sprinting down a path they weren't familiar with, and towards a horizon they'd never met. A brilliant thing to do in a foreign Hyrule, Legend thought bitterly. At least Time, Twilight, Wild, and Hyrule had some semblance of dignity about them. Oh, scratch that, the insane cook had stripped down to what he called his Sheikah Speedos (whatever on Farore's good green earth that meant) and was now sitting atop Twilight's shoulders. Legend hoped for a split second that Twilight would be level-minded enough to dissuade his protégé from such a reckless pastime. The aforementioned hope melted in the air when the pair shrieked a stream of sacrilegious boasts and sprinted after Wind and Warriors' retreating forms. Hyrule, who was still leading the whole group -- even though they were in his Hyrule, Legend had a sneaking feeling that this was a bad idea -- tossed his shield underneath his feet and quite literally sledded down the path. Legend sighed dramatically. Apparently, Wild's wasteful hobby had tainted even him.

Idiots, the lot of them.

Humid fog skittered over from a nearby river and settled onto Legend's lashes and cheeks. He blinked slowly and yawned again. The arsenal on his back pulled him downwards, and Legend made no motion to resist, relishing the feeling of slack muscles and half-closed eyes and hair flopping in front of his face. He didn't notice how far forward he was slumped until his hands dragged across the floor and scratched the rough skin of his knuckles. Legend glared furiously at the dust beneath him, as if to reprimand its audacity. The half-asleep hero proceeded to slog forward with even less intention than before.

Maybe if he fell asleep in the middle of the path, they would all stop their shenanigans and put their heads back on their shoulders.

"Hey, Legend! Pick it up, yeah? You're moving about as fast as Wind's gramma on a summer afternoon!"

That stupid cook couldn't even let him sleep, huh?

Legend didn't have a comeback, so he just sneered at Wild's silhouette as Wind did the job for him. Sailor boy had quite the vocabulary -- not exactly vulgar but certainly brazen enough to make the aforementioned 'Gramma' blush had she been here. The lazy smile was still plastered over Legend's face when Time broke away from the group and sidled up next to him.

"What do you make of all this?" Time questioned.

"Nothing much. It's all pretty stupid, to be honest." The veteran hero didn't look up from the floor, addressing his sleepy words to the dust underneath him.

Time gave Legend a sidelong look. The sound of laughter and smell of sea salt carried on the wind and grazed the tips of Legend's ears. The Old Man's gaze didn't falter, somehow becoming more childish and bright as he tilted his head genially to the side and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Legend took one look at the dopey look on Time's face and rolled his eyes.

"Not a chance, Old Man. I might hurt your back."  

"My back? Oh no, you misunderstand. I'm more interested in receiving a piggyback ride than giving one."

Legend took an involuntary step back and stared up at Time with incredulity splashed all over his face.

"...?!"

"Ah. You're a poor sport, I see."

"... you're not going to manipulate me into something as humiliating as that."

"Oh well. Worth a shot. But what about Hyrule?"

"??"

"Everyone is getting rides except him. I have a feeling he would appreciate it very much if you would swallow your pride for his sake. Why not help him win that race?"

"Yeah," Legend grunted, "and I would appreciate it if you got off my case and let me be."

They walked on in silence. The Old Man's armor chinked in time with the sea shanty Wind was belting out at the top of his lungs. A few of the other Links joined in, even though they didn't know the words, their voices exploding into an ungodly crescendo as Wind tossed his hands up into the sky. Legend remained silent. He kicked the small pebbles in front of his feet and glowered at the shifting shadows lurking around the path's corners. There was no need to worry -- Hyrule had made it clear that as long as one stuck on the road, there was no chance of being attacked by any monsters -- but Legend's sleep-deprived brain sparkled with anxiety regardless. Snorts and giggles and quips and retorts echoed in the cold air; Time smiled at them, Legend glared. He just wanted to get to a town, eat something, nap, and wake up when Hylia's little shtick was all over.  

"Time!" Wild shouted, snapping Legend out of his reverie, "can you hold these for us? Twi and I have a race to win, and alla these thingamajiggers aren't doing much to help us out." Twilight stumbled over to them, trying to balance the hyperactive wild child spazzing out on his shoulders, and started to say something before Wild promptly dumped an assortment of swords, shields, and shirts into the Old Man's outstretched arms. Twilight stared apologetically up at Time, opening his mouth to speak before Wild tugged his hair demanded they rejoin the fray. Legend had to hold a hand in front of his face to avoid breathing in the dust Twilight kicked up. Time stared on fondly, slinging the swords over his shoulders and scrutinizing the abandoned things around him as the two crazies scampered off. He sat on his knees with a grunt and started sifting through his bag, apparently looking for a sliver of space to put the random shields and clothes he'd been handed. A few random weapons and supplies had to come out before anything else could go in, and Legend scrutinized them with the jaded eye of a seasoned mage. Time pulled out a hookshot (typical), bow (even more so), three separate quivers of ice, fire, and light arrows (untouched for years, if the fine coating of dust around them meant anything), and a strange magnifying glass with a magenta frame and indigo lens. Well, well, well. What could that be? A familiar cold fire tickled the back of his throat -- the same one that prompted him to begin his first journey and propelled him through the rest. It only grew stronger when Legend noticed how the lens bent and scattered the moonbeams falling around it; it was almost as if the artifact was trying to avoid the light. His eyebrows flickered up, and a smirk pinched the corners of his lips. Legend tossed a quick glance first at Time, who was still slowly shuffling around the materials in his bag, and another one at the rest of the Links, who were still racing and tripping and shouting like a gang of toddlers. In one fluid movement, Legend swiped the lens and held it up in front of his grinning face.  

The lens was heavy, not just because of the metal handle, but because of the ocean of magic seething and roiling within. Dark magic, without a doubt; the thick, somber, molasses-like heartbeat of the enchantment couldn't be chalked up to anything else. But said dark magic had obviously been tampered with in some way; there was none of the electric, fiery malevolence ingrained in most cursed artifacts. Perhaps it had been enchanted by a mage with a pure heart and proficiency in the dark arts? Legend's eyebrows pressed together. His fingertips itched to pull out his Magic Mirror and compare the two.

It took Legend a few seconds to register that Time's singular eye was boring into him. Legend startled and took a few preemptive steps back, just in case the Old Man got it in his head to make a lunge for the strange lens. The veteran hero smiled at his companion, balancing the artifact on the fat part of his palm.

"Fascinating. Where'd you get this, Old Man? Never thought you were a connoisseur of corrupted magical artifacts."

Time shrugged his shoulders and stood up, slinging his bag and assortment of swords around his neck. Legend tried very hard not to become uncomfortable under his unflinching, unreadable stare.  

"I don't suggest you play with it," Time finally said.

Legend grinned even wider and pressed the strange artifact to his chest. "You don't say?" He flicked the crimson barbs adorning the top of the lens and tapped the handle with a fingernail. "I can feel the Dark Magic pouring through this lens -- if it even is a lens and not a portal of sorts." Holding it up to the moon, Legend's face contorted in curiosity as the lens snuffed out the light around it. "The weird thing is that there's no malevolence behind the magic. Must have been cast by a powerful mage with no intent to harm."

"Perhaps it was." Despite his words, Time's deadpan words hung thickly in the air and betrayed his complete disinterest in pursuing the conversation further. He held out his hand in front of him, an invitation for Legend to return the lens so the both could continue on their way.

Legend slapped the hand away.

"I don't think so," the veteran teased. "Wanna tell me why you don't want me holding onto this thing? Hiding something, Gramps?"  

"Aren't we all?"  

"Oh please, spare me your existential-crisis inducing lectures. What do these engravings on the side mean?" Legend squinted at the fine letters etched into the rim. "Hmm...Lens of Truth. Is that what it's called? How odd. Hey, what do you say will happen if I look through it?"

"The same thing that happened to my eye."  

Legend's fiery curiosity dimmed and his sense of self-preservation flared. The veteran cradled the lens in his palm and widened his eyes, searching Time's face for any hint of duplicity.

"Really?" Legend whispered.

"Nope." Time replied. The skin around his eyes crinkled. Legend groaned loudly. He should have seen this one coming.

"Ugh. You really had me going for a second there."

"Hmm. Now give it back."

"C'mon," Legend urged, "don't be such a grump. Can't I just hold onto it for a little bit? You know how careful I am with artifacts of all kids, magical or not. Now that I think about it, I'm probably the best person to keep it with. Not like it's doing anything in that bag of yours."

The silence was heavy and disappointing. Legend was about to appeal to his character and reliability once more before noticing the childish glint in Time's eyes.

Oh no.

"Well, maybe if…" Time began.

"I'm not giving you a piggyback ride."

Time's baritone chuckles muffled the sounds of dust crunching beneath their feet. "I was only going to ask you if you would be able to carry all these things for me."

Legend blinked quickly, then sheepishly nodded his head. This was a pretty good deal, actually. He slung Time's bag and the array of swords Wild had dumped off around his shoulders, wincing as they dug into his skin. A sharp prick of jealousy pierced his heart as he watched Time sprint ahead and swing Hyrule onto his shoulders. He shook his head, trying to ignore the sound of Hyrule's soft, shy laughter, and busied himself with the lens in his hands.

What a fascinating thing it was. "The Lens of Truth," huh? Much more enigmatic of a name than "Magic Mirror." He idly bounced the lens in his hand as he thought. Why was it filled with dark magic but free of actual darkness? What kind of truth did it claim to reveal? Why did Time have such a strange artifact sitting at the bottom of his inventory?

His curiosity burned even brighter, and Legend found himself almost skipping down the path.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Saria Town smelled like salt, dirt, and the sweat of a community living on the fringes of the world. At Hyrule's insistence, the Links slid off each other's shoulders and sauntered over to Legend to grab their swords, shields, and -- in Wild's case -- clothes. The veteran smiled half-heartedly as the weight on his back was lifted in bits and pieces, eyes and mind still trained on the Lens of Truth. It had been half an hour since the strange artifact had first been handed to him, and he was still no closer to finding any explanation for its weird magical aura.

"Okay, everyone, just some things before we head in." Hyrule's faint voice carried clearly through the crisp nighttime air. "The only building in this town big enough for all of us to stay at belongs to Saria Town's Wise Man. You guys need to be really nice and polite to him, or we won't have any place to sleep tonight."

"Are you saying we aren't always nice and polite?" Sky questioned. Laughter rippled through the assemblage of heroes as Hyrule awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, I'm just saying that some of us struggle, maybe just a little, with that last one?"

Everybody's eyes fell on Legend.

"What?" The veteran said.

Hyrule turned bright red and sputtered out an apology, trying to explain that he hadn't meant to single out anybody with that last statement and he was just trying to make sure everybody knew what the townspeople would expect and that he was so sorry gosh just so--

Legend held out a hand in front of him and bounced the Lens of Truth between the fingers of the other. "I'm not mad," he finally said, walking past Hyrule towards the rickety wooden bridge that led to the small town. "I'll be going now. If anyone feels like joining me, be my guest."  

Saria Town was somehow even quieter up close. A smattering of squat, grey buildings pressed their stomachs to the floor, tender blades of grass carpeting the ground beneath them. Soft light poured out of open windows and spilled on the ground. The sleepy villagers perked up at the sight of Hyrule and widened their eyes at the sight of his entourage, waving shyly and grinning when the whole group waved back.

Hyrule stopped in front of the biggest building in the town, hesitating for a split second before knocking. The Links clustered behind him. A woman dressed in purple answered the door, light spilling out from the crack in the door and glinting off the polished wooden porch. Her eyes widened when she recognized the figure at her doorstep.

"Hello, Link! Oh, you look so tired! Do you need a place to stay, darling?"  

"Yes, ma'am," Hyrule said, "and so does my family."  

┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙

#linkeduniverse #zelda #fanfiction #angstTIMES!:D #seeking7 #LU

[jooheonspinky]

Enchanted Night

Image Credit: @OfficialMonstaX

Characters: Minhyuk and Female Reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Synopsis: Accepting an invitation to a Halloween beach party, Y/N tags along with her best friend. There, she meets a young man with whom she hits it off with right away. But he is not all that he seems.

   “Your cup’s almost empty!” her friend exclaimed in mock horror as she eyeballed Y/N’s cup. “Lemme get you a refill right quick.”            “No, no. I’m goo-.” Ignoring YN’s protests she snatched the cup and sauntered off, a little bit wobbly on her legs. “Aish, Lucy!” Y/N sighed.            It was Friday night and they were mingling at a beach house party. It was a tradition that had started a few years ago. The weekend nearest Halloween, a group of friends would rent a beach house and any one was welcome to come and party for two nights. Lucy and Y/N had gone each year, though they always rented their own space within walking distance.            She wasn’t much of a drinker and went mostly because Lucy insisted. Lucy was the outgoing, dancing till her feet gave out, and drinking til she puked kinda gal, while Y/N… Well, she preferred staying outside the edge of all the hoopla.            Leaning over to take a peek towards the kitchen, Y/N could see Lucy there pouring (mostly spilling, really) various liquors into her solo cup. Shaking her head, she scurried towards the sliding doors and escaped out into the night.            This was Florida. Though it was fall, it was the perfect time and weather to be there at the beach. October still offered warm days and just slightly cool nights. As she shut the door, muting the music and chatter, she headed down the deck, skirting past several couples making out.            Reaching the end of the plank way, she pulled off her shoes and sighed blissfully as the ocean breeze whispered through her hair and her toes sunk into the sugary soft sand. The roar of the ocean waves crashing on the shore blocked the noise from the party going on a few yards behind her. A fire pit had been lit not too far from the shore and there were a few people there roasting marshmallows and hanging out. Angling away from them, Y/N found an empty lounge chair and sat, dropping her shoes beside her.            Leaning back, she gazed up at the inky blackness above her, awestruck by the vast amount of stars she could see. It was truly amazing how many we really don’t see because of the city lights.            “This seat taken?”            Jumping at the unexpected voice intruding her thoughts, Y/N laughed, a slight tremble audible in the timbre.            Shaking her head, her voice faltered as her gaze drifted up, up, way up into the face of the stranger beside her, “N-No. Take it if you want.”            Lord, he had to be the most gorgeous person she had ever seen. There was an almost androgynous look to his features that made his appearance all the more beautiful.            “Well, actually, I was wondering if I could sit here with you,” he smiled broadly at her.            Eyes widening in surprise, Y/N swallowed hard, trying to moisten her throat that had suddenly gone bone dry.            “Uhm, yeah. Sure. Go ahead.”    Drawing her legs up, she wrapped her arms around them and tried to focus on the waves smashing onto the shore in front of her. The silvery moon’s reflection caused the ocean to glitter like sparkling diamonds...and the view helped calm her nerves. She was not used to talking to anyone as attractive as him and prayed she would not make a fool of herself.    “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.”    Turning to face him, she saw the outstretched hand peeking out of the oversized light brown sweat shirt. The digits were long, thin, and almost delicate looking. She slid her hand into his, watching how his warm fingers wrapped around her own. His grip was firm, telling her he was not a frail, weak man whatsoever.    She swallowed thickly, forcing her eyes from their joined hands and up to his face. A mischievous grin played on his pretty lips yet again. There was something there in those dark sparkling eyes. Like he knew something she didn’t.    “Y/N,” she finally replied.    “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Gently slipping his hand out of hers, he settled back in his own chair. With his fingers laced behind his head, he crossed his legs at his ankles and turned to look out at the very waters she’d been taking in moments before. “I haven’t seen you here before. Do you live around here?”            With his eyes no longer on her, she could feel herself relax a tiny bit. She sat cross-legged now hands on her knees.            “No, I live about three hours from here. I’m only here for the weekend.”            “I see.”            “What about you?”            He chuckled softly, “I live near the water's edge.”            “That must be nice, living so close to the ocean,” Y/N sighed. “I have to drive a ways to get to any beach.”            “It is magical living near the water,” he smiled over at Y/N. Smile widening, he sat up, “You want to dance?”            Caught off guard, Y/N swiveled and placed her feet on the sand as she repeated, “Dance?”            “Yeah,” he pointed with his chin towards the group that was around the fire pit. She’d been so enthralled by Minhyuk that she hadn’t even noticed that the group had started playing music. Now it was plain as day as the beats and lyrics flowed over on the wind. She instantly felt her cheeks burn.    “Uhm…”    He stood and offered a hand to her. Only hesitating a moment, she let him lift her up from her chair and into his arms. One of his hands slid down to her waist, while the other that held her hand didn’t let go. Instead he held it against his heart.    He began to move to the music. The movements were so sensual that she found it was becoming difficult to breathe. She let him guide her and soon they were moving together. As the music transitioned to something slower, he slid his other hand to her waist and pulled her closer.  He then began to sing along softly and her eyes widened as she leaned her face back to watch his lips follow along with the lyrics. The melodic tone that slid passed his perfect lips had her mesmerized. A gorgeous man that could dance and sing?    “You ok?” he chuckled like he knew exactly how frazzled he had her.    Cheeks flushing with heat again, she ducked her head, shyly replying, “Yes.”    “You’re so beautiful with those rosy cheeks,” he laughed as he lifted her chin with his fingers.            “Stop,” she glared playfully at him.            And those enchanting eyes of his glittered, reflecting the moonlight and the flames of the fire pit and she felt herself falling into their spell. She didn’t resist when he leaned forward. Y/N actually held her breath in anticipation, then released it only slightly disappointed when he bypassed her mouth. His lips pressed a tender kiss to her cheek and her heart danced a rapid beat beneath her ribs.            “I’m glad I met you tonight, Y/N,” Minhyuk whispered.            Y/N opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of her name being called loudly from a bit behind her had her spinning around and out of his hold. There she found Lucy trying to walk through the powdery sand with her heels on.            “There you are!” Lucy huffed in annoyance. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”            Turning back around to apologize, again Y/N found herself shutting her mouth, left without words. Minhyuk was no longer there. Disheartened to see he’d left without even saying good-bye, she returned her attention to her friend.            “I think it’s time to go,” Y/N sighed heavily as she snatched up her shoes and hurried to her friend.            She took one more wistful look behind her, but only found the cresting waves rippling in the distance.

                                             .·:*¨¨*:·.    .·:*¨¨*:·.

Lucy and Y/N stood in their motel room bathroom trying to get ready as quickly as possible. It was Halloween night and they were dressing up in costumes for the party. Lucy had chosen a sexy nurse outfit and had her face in the mirror adding large lashes to accentuate the bright blue glittering eyeshadow she wore.    With emerald green scale-patterned tights and a brown corset style top, Y/N was going for a rebel style mermaid look. She let her hair loose, adding a few thin braids and some shells randomly through her locks. Her makeup was light and natural looking, but she lathered on glittery lotion to any exposed skin and also added glitter hairspray to her hair to give off a magical appearance.    “Ready?” Lucy asked as she smacked her lips then dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her pinky.    “Yep. Let’s go.”    Slipping her feet into a pair of dark brown beach sandals Y/N opened the door, holding it open for Lucy.    Scrunching her nose, Lucy looked down at her best friend’s feet.    “Seriously?”    “What?” Y/N asked innocently. “I’m choosing comfort.”    Lucy sighed heavily, but didn’t say anything else as they walked out into the late evening. Much like the night before there was a soft ocean breeze that carried on it the scent of sea salt and a bit of coolness from the chilled waters. The moon was on its way to reaching its highest peak though it barely provided any brightness to mark their way.    Sliding her phone from her waist band, Y/N brought up the flashlight app and lit the way to the beach house. They could already make out the fairy lights that had been strung around, the lights varying from amber, purple and green to keep with the Halloween theme. The bass could be heard over the crashing waves and Lucy’s steps quickened.    “Come on, Y/N,” she urged. “The party is already well on its way!”    “I’m going, I’m going!” Y/N huffed, but stepped up her pace to match her friend’s.    It wasn’t long before they reached the plank way that led up to the deck. Tonight the outside area was just as filled with people as the inside. Looking around as they meandered through the crowd, Y/N found it difficult to determine who was who as just about everyone was in a costume. The costumes ranged from vampires to dead brides to zombies.    Lucy!” they both turned as a tall male called out her name when they stepped into the kitchen.    It was Frankenstein, green paint and everything. Judging by his height, this was the guy Lucy had been with most of the night, the previous day.    “Jeriko!” she hollered back with a pleased laugh before giving him a brief hug.    She took the drink he offered her.    “Hey, Y/N,” he offered her a nod. “Nice outfits ladies.”    “Thanks,” they replied in unison, then burst into giggles.    “Mind if I steal her for a while?” Jeriko asked, even as he hooked an elbow with Lucy.    “Naw go ahead.” To Lucy, she said, “I’ll be around if you need me. Just text me, ok?”    Lucy nodded as Jeriko began to pull her away. Sighing, Y/N made her way to the dimly lit living room area. The music was still extremely loud in this part of the house, but she was ok with that. Plopping down on the opposite end of the only available spot, she did her best to block out the couple making out just two cushions away.    Y/N glanced around the room, watching couples as they danced and groups of people as they chatted and laughed together. She smiled wistfully, liking being alone, but wishing to have the courage to join in. Her mind wandered towards the guy she’d met the night before and she wonder what Minhyuk was doing. If he were here to talk to, she wouldn’t feel so awkward.    As if her thoughts had summoned him, her eyes darted to the figure walking through the archway that split the kitchen from the living room. A young man with a faded shade of magenta colored hair stepped in. Dressed in black jeans, a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned black blazer, Minhyuk appeared a lot taller than she remembered. She took a moment to admire the sharp line of his jaw and the way his lips quirked to one side in a partial smirk. Minhyuk looked like royalty as he peered casually around the room. When his eyes finally landed on her, his smile widened causing her heart to leap in her chest. Y/N waved him over even though he’d already started walking her way. She stood, greeting him as soon as he was close.    “Minhyuk, you came,” she returned his bright smile.

He leaned forward kissing her cheek, bringing forth a flush of warmth to the area.

“Couldn’t pass up the chance to see you again.” The glint in his eyes was mischievous, his tone flirtatious causing Y/N to giggle. “Want to go outside where it’s a bit easier to hear each other?”

“Sure.”

   He reached out for Y/N’s hand, and with their fingers intertwined, they managed to get outside without being seperated.

   “Much nicer out here, little mermaid,” he commented as they headed off the deck and towards the ocean.

   “I figured that’d be the perfect costume since the party was at the beach,” Y/N shrugged with a laugh.

   Reaching the same chairs they’d sat in the night before, they removed their shoes and sandals and walked hand in hand near the shore line. The water was much too cold to walk in, but the moist beach sand felt nice beneath their bare feet.

   “You definitely had the right idea with that costume,” he complimented.

   “Thanks. So what are you supposed to be?” she queried looking up at Minhyuk briefly before looking ahead again.

   “A human,” he deadpanned.

   Y/N faltered, looking up at Minhyuk. With her forehead drawn tight, she scrutinized his face to gage if he was being serious. She let a nervous laugh leave her lips when he quirked an eyebrow at her. Pursing her lips at him, only slightly amused, she told him, “Just say you didn’t have a costume.” “Ok. Well, how about Enchanted Human?” he countered. “Would that make you feel better?” “Well, that would just make me question how much you’ve had to drink today,” she stated simply as she hugged his arm and continued their walking. Minhyuk chuckled, “Not a drop.” He didn’t resist her closeness and they continued on along the ocean’s edge. They were quiet for a few steps before he stopped and turned to look down at her. Y/N returned his gaze. She smiled reassuringly at his pensive stare. The teasing look that had been twinkling in his eyes was gone and replaced by something she couldn’t quite place. Something was very obviously weighing on his mind. “Are you ok?” she finally broke the quietness. Minhyuk released a sigh before he began to speak. “I know we just met, but I really like you.” Y/N smiled at that. “Me, too,” she assured him. “I feel this connection with you and…I don’t know. I just…,” he paused to smile boyishly and cup her cheek. “I haven’t felt this way before.” She could feel her heart begin to race at the words and the gentleness of his touch. “I haven’t either,” Y/N murmured. “Can I just… Is it ok if I…” His voice floated off in the sea breeze as he leaned down, closing the space between them. Y/N’s eyes shut in anticipation. This time his lips met hers and to Y/N, it was like brushing her lips across a rose petal. His lips were so soft and gentle as they pressed a sweet kiss onto her mouth. Nothing intrusive or forceful, just a pleasant touch of their lips. “That was really nice.” Y/N giggled “Yeah. It was,” he chuckled. Sobering up, he locked eyes with Y/N. “I have to tell you something. Well, I want to tell you something.” “Okayyy,” she dragged out the word nervously. “What I said earlier, about dressing up as an enchanted human… I was being serious.” Y/N frowned, “What do you mean?” “I told you I live by the water’s edge, but that wasn’t entirely true.” Minhyuk bit down roughly on his bottom lip as Y/N took a tentative step back. “Explain,” she demanded, her voice neutral as she crossed her arms under her chest. “I want you to keep an open mind. Know that there are things in this world beyond your imagination.” Pausing, he took a deep breath. “I come from a place deep in the ocean called The Encante. Have you heard of it?” She let out a disbelieving huff of hair. “I mean, it vaguely sounds familiar. A folklore of some sort.” Shaking her head as she wracked her mind for more details. Her eyes brightened as she recalled some information. Something she’d read on line one day when she was reading about various folk tales from around the world. “It’s a place compared to paradise where these creatures live that can shed their animal skin and change into humans. Kind of like a selkie.” Minhyuk smiled, appearing pleased by her response. “Right. My kind are called Encantado and in the water we are dolphins, but we can shed our dolphin form and walk the land as human.” Y/N eyed him silently. Her eyes bore into his as she did her best to decipher if he was telling the truth or teasing. “Are you being serious right now?” she finally asked, dropping her arms. He nodded solemnly. “I don’t know what to say. This all sounds crazy.” “It is all true. I swear,” he insisted. “I told you because I want you to come with me there, to The Encante.” “Minhyuk, we’ve only just met. Even if I believed you…I have friends and family.” Shaking her head and shrugging she added, “I can’t just leave all of them behind.” His face crumbled, panic evident in his eyes as he blinked a few times. Y/N watched his Adam’s apple bob roughly in his throat as he reached out, offering his hand. “Please come with me, Y/N.” Her heart broke to see such a beautiful being so sad, so devastated, but she would not sway. This young man truly believed he was an enchanted creature. What need was there for him to concoct such an elaborate lie to keep her in his life if they had already hit if off so well? Perhaps he he really was just plain crazy. “I can’t do this.” Frustrated and angered she took a step to stomp away. She wasn’t so much as furious with him, but with her own self as she had allowed herself to be captivated by him so quickly. Now he’s speaking of enchanted dolphins and underwater magical cities? “Wait!” he hissed desperately, his hand clasping around her wrist. She yo-yoed back, colliding with his chest. “What the hell?!” “Shhh,” he cooed apologetically. “Just…I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Look. Give me a chance to show you.” Untangling herself from him, she looked down the beach, realizing how far they’d walked from everyone. It was dark, save for the fractured reflection of the smiling moon over the shivering ocean. She returned her gaze to Minhyuk’s pleading one. What harm would it do for him to show her he was lying? “Fine,” she extended an arm dramatically between them. “Go ahead.” His face broke into a thrilled smile as he shrugged out of his blazer. “You’re the first person I’ve shown myself to. I’m actually kinda nervous.”

“Minhyuk,” Y/N sighed impatiently. “Okay okay okay.” He pressed his lips together, taking a deep breath. “Can you hold this for me, please?” She held out her hand, not hiding the agitation. “Thanks.” He then proceeded to tug his t-shirt out of his pants. “Wh-Whoa there!” she sputtered, twirling around. His laugher rung out, mingling with the sounds of the ocean and her heart lurched at the musicality of it. She humphed, hugging his jacket to her chest. There were several splashes that exploded not too far beside her. Y/N quickly turned to face the water in time to see Minhyuk’s naked pale form reach a deep enough part where he could dive underwater. Looking down to the ground she took note of a pile of clothes.

He really was going with this whole shapeshifting thing. The water had to be about 50 degrees or so, pretty cold for any normal person. But Minhyuk cut through the water as if it was bath water. He breached the surface and waved to her. She reluctantly wiggled her fingers back, sure he couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness. “Ready?” he called out and she was surprised to find she could hear him clearly. “Sure,” she replied with an exasperated sigh. Minyuk dove again, but this time what broke the surface was not a human. A swift, strong dolphin shot up into the air in an arc. Y/N staggered back a few paces, momentarily shocked by the sight. The water glistened off the mammals body like luminescent glitter. She swore he winked at her before slicing headfirst back into the water. What had she just witnessed?? Panicking, she bolted down the shoreline the way they’d come. She heard her name on the ocean’s breeze, it’s pitch so much like Minhyuk’s, but she dared not look behind her. Shortly, she reached the area of the bonfire. Music and chatter surrounded her and she was overwhelmed by it all. Eyes wide she scanned the vicinity. Not finding Lucy, she stumbled towards the plank way that lead to the deck of the rental house. There she caught sight of her friend inebriated and grinding against Jeriko. Y/N rushed up to her and yanked at her arm frantically, “I need to go. We need to go!” “Hey, what’s your problem,” Jeriko scowled at Y/N. “Awe, come on, Y/N,” Lucy groaned. “I’m having a good time.” “I have to get outta here,” Y/N insisted. Lucy eyed her, momentary concern flashed in her eyes, but then Jeriko tightened his grip on her waist and annoyance returned. “Fine. I’ll just leave the door unlocked.” Turning to Jeriko, she poked a finger into his chest, demanding, “You. You better get her to our place in one piece. Got that?” “Sure,” he grinned. Looking from one to the other one last time, she spun on her heels and headed back to the small hotel room. Once there, she curled up in the bed without changing. Only then realizing she was still clutching onto Minhyuk’s blazer. Inhaling deeply the scent of Minhyuk mixed with the ocean, she let the tears slip past her lashes unchecked.                                              .·:*¨¨*:·.    .·:*¨¨*:·.

Y/N looked down at her phone as it vibrated for the zillionth time. They were all messages from Lucy.

Lucy (10:34am): you better be outta bed

Lucy (12:17pm): Did you have lunch?

Lucy (12:39pm): Helloooo!

Lucy (1:02 pm): Please love me T_T

Lucy (1:30pm): Meet me at the cafe. No ifs ands or buts. You better be there. Don’t leave me hanging!!

Y/N (1:31pm): Fine. If only to stop your spamming.

Lucy (1:33pm):  xoxo

She rolled slowly out of bed and stomped to the bathroom. She’d refused to step out claiming she was sick. Y/N just couldn’t find the energy to smile, to speak, to dress. She wished things had been different.

With time to think about Minhyuk and all he’d told then showed her, she felt despicable for how she’d reacted. Of course anyone would be shocked, but to just run away when he was trusting her with such a huge secret? That was just wrong.

She’d gone back twice. The drive was long, but she wanted so much to apologize. She’d walked up and down the beach, calling his name, but had no luck finding him. Maybe he’d gone back home to The Encante, the fear of a human telling the world of this discovery eating up his mind.

She let her face fall in her hands while tears filled her eyes. But then she sucked in a deep breath, dabbing at her eyes and nose with a tissue. She had to stop with the tears. She rushed to get ready, a much needed distraction to hold back the waterworks.

                                             .·:*¨¨*:·.    .·:*¨¨*:·.

The bell tinkled gently above her as she stepped into the small cafe, announcing her arrival. The baristas and cashier greeted her. Glancing around the room she found Lucy waving to get her attention. Y/N sent her a small smile before heading her way. When she was not but a few paces away she noticed Lucy was not alone.

Across from her, his back to Y/N, was a guy in a black beanie. She paused a second, her face neutral, as she looked at the back of the intruder. Y/N tried to ignore the agitation that was starting to come forward. She’d thought she’d be here with just Lucy. Why didn’t she say she’d invited Jeriko, too?

Noticing her hesitation, Lucy stood and reached out to take Y/N’s hand.

Urging her forward, she told her quietly, “I ran into this guy and he told me he was trying to find a Y/N. I asked him a few questions and turns out it’s you. That’s why I asked you to come here.”

Y/N frowned at Lucy. What guy would be looking for her? Stepping behind her, Lucy gripped Y/N’s shoulders and gently pushed her forward. Once she reached the table, she turned her to face the stranger. She couldn’t help but gasp, her hand coming up to her mouth a bit too late to cover the sound. She felt her heart kick start, thrumming giddily beneath her breast. “Hello, Y/N.” Even as he smiled at her, there was a tentativeness as he waited for the shock of the moment to wear off. “I’ll leave you two,” Lucy looked from one to the other, concern wrinkling her brow. The bell jingled over the door as Lucy exited, but still Y/N stared on unmoving. So many things she wanted to say, yet emotion knotted it all in her throat. “Maybe this was a mistake,” Minhyuk mumbled as he slid out of the booth taking her silence as rejection. “I’ll just go.” Bowing her head in shame, she allowed him to take one step past her. Mustering her courage, she grabbed his forearm, tugging him back to face her. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “I’m really sorry, Minhyuk.” His shirt muffled her words, but he must have understood. A moment later he was hugging her back and she sighed feeling relief wash over her. He was warm and the scent of the sea lingered on him. As she drew her head back a bit, her eyes flit over his face searching for assurance that he truly had forgiven her. The wide golden smile that greeted her was all the confirmation she needed. “Let’s sit,” he suggested.

Sliding into the seat across from him she looked him over seeing how human he looked. If Minhyuk had not confessed, truthfully, she would have never known.

“I’m really sorry for running away,” she started. “Honestly, it really freaked me out, but once I got home I had time to think about it. That was a really brave thing you did, confiding such a secret. I can’t even imagine how nerve wracking it must have been wondering if I had said anything. I swear I will never tell anyone.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that.” He leaned forward now, his eyes capturing hers. “Now that all is forgiven...where does that leave us?”

Y/N slid her hands across to take both of his in hers.

“There’s no manual out there that tells us how a human and an Encantado should be together, but I’m willing to find out along the way if you are.”

She watched Minhyuk’s eyes brighten.

“Yeah. I’d like that, too.”

                                             .·:*¨¨*:·.    .·:*¨¨*:·.

Thank you for reading!

#monsta x au #monsta x fantasy #monsta x lee minhyuk #monsta x minhyuk #monsta x xreader #.·:*¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨*:·.

[softnow]

paracosm [ch. i]

msr | college au | this chapter: gen | words: 1851

university of maryland, 1982. fox mulder is in love with the library girl.

this fic wouldn't exist without @o6666666 who has been the biggest cheerleader/brainstorm partner. thank u ily. also: if you go to umd, went to college in the 80s, or specifically went to umd in the 80s...sorry. we’re doing our best but we’re taking liberties here, folks. tagging @today-in-fic. 

ao3.

— — —

Fox Mulder is in love with the library girl.

Or, well, enamored with, at least. Smitten with. Big-time crushin’ on.

He sees her for the first time in the fiction section, kicking along a step stool and dragging a re-shelving cart, putting Dickens and Dostoevsky back where they belong. Her messy red bob is bright against the classic lit beige, and her little blue jeans make his palms itch. She’s about five-foot-nothing, has to tip-toe even with the step stool, and her thin white t-shirt tugs out of her waistband a little more each time she stretches. It’s entrancing.

So entrancing that he stands there for longer than he should, Vonnegut clutched in his fist, forgotten. Long enough for her to notice, balanced up on her stool, a book halfway to the shelf. She glances at him briefly over her shoulder, then slides the book home and looks back at him again. A slim eyebrow arches.

“Can I help you?”

Her voice is deeper than he expected, but soft. She blinks at him, eyes big behind gold wire-rims. Her face waits somewhere between expectant and impatient.

“No, uh—no,” he says, shaking his head, backing away.

She stares at him a moment longer before returning to her cart.

Boys, he says when he gets home, boys, you aren’t going to believe it. He says, I think I might be in love.

—

A week later, it’s the circulation desk.

It’s late, not quite ten. He has a history exam tomorrow, and the guys have their Dungeons & Dragons buddies over. Seven dudes shouting about wizards and dexterity checks in his living room means he can’t focus at all. So he goes to the library.

He’s not thinking about that girl—really, he’s not. Not about her fluffy bangs or her slim hips or her soft, rich voice. Not at all. He’s just looking for a place to study, that’s it. Just somewhere quiet to blow through the Renaissance and call it a night.

But she’s right there, perched on a chair behind the counter, when he walks through the door. Her sweater is dark blue and speckled, like she’s taken a bit of the night sky and wrapped it around her for warmth. She bows over a book, chin resting in her sleeve-covered palms, coppery hair falling in waves around her face.

For a moment, he considers heading straight to the third-floor reading nook, the one in the religion section that the freshmen haven’t discovered yet. If he gets started now, maybe he can be in bed by midnight.

But then he looks at the girl again. She nibbles on her bottom lip while she reads, and—well. Da Vinci’s been dead for four hundred years. He can wait a little longer.

Mulder hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder, crosses to the counter, and leans forward on his elbows. The girl looks up, chin still in her hands, that same expectant-impatient look on her face, and Jesus, this close, she has a whole sky map of freckles on her cheeks.

Whatever suave cool-guy thing he was going to say gasps and drowns in her Bora Bora-blue eyes. What comes out instead is: “Desk duty tonight. Easier to reach, huh?”

And, oh.

Real smooth. Real fuckin’ smooth. Foot, meet mouth. Earth? Feel free to open up anytime now.

The girl’s eyebrows shoot into her bangs. Then she sighs the sigh of someone who deals with dumbasses like him all the time.

“Are you ready to check out?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

She straightens in her chair, customer service-polite. “Your card, please.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Help you find something, then?”

“No, I don’t need—”

“Then what can I do for you?”

Rewind time? Let me start over?

“I just wanted—that is, I—uh. What are you reading?”

A beat. The girl stares at him. Her eyes really are breathtakingly beautiful, even when they’re sizing him up like he’s a bug that has just crawled into her soup.

“What am I reading?” she echoes, flat.

“Yeah, your, uh, your book there. Is it good?”

He can hear the clock on the wall behind her. Tick, tick, tick. Her silence stretches for so long that he starts to wonder if he wasn’t just speaking in his head.

Finally, she nods once. Curt. Up, down. “It’s fine.”

Cut your losses, kid. Walk away. But his mouth’s already off and running, the last to get the memo.

“Fine? Oh, well, fine—fine’s better than bad, right? What is it?”

She sighs again. Slides a thumb between the pages to mark her place and flips the cover shut. He reads the title upside down.

“The Principle of Relativity?” He whistles low. “Just a little light reading, huh? That’s cool. Physics is…cool.”

She blinks like a cat, slow and bored. Says, “Yeah.”

He shoves a hand through his hair and tries to smile. “I’m, uh, I’m Mulder. Fox. My first name’s…Fox. I’m just Mulder, though.”

Her strawberry mouth puckers and she nods again.

Okay, buddy. Move along.

“And you’re...?”

She tosses her book open. The cover makes a little thwap as it hits the counter. She taps the page.

“Busy.”

—

The next day, after his exam (which, after staying up until two in the morning replaying easier to reach, huh?, he’s certain he did not pass), he goes to the library.

She’s reading at the desk again, hair up in a little fountain ponytail. He thinks—though he’s not sure—that she might be trying to kill him.

“Ready to ch—oh.” Her face actually falls when she realizes it’s him. He’d laugh if she wasn’t so pretty. “You’re back.”

She has two tiny gold hoops in each ear, and he is overcome with the urge to touch them, to see if the metal is warm from her skin. He shoves his fists deep into his pockets instead.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for last night. We got off on the wrong foot.”

She nods. She says, “Fine. Okay. Are you checking out this time?”

He laughs now; he can’t help it. She’s so serious. This little librarian. He doubts if she’s even twenty yet, but the prim line of her mouth is Ph.D.-stern.

“No, uh, I wanted to make it up to you.”

She folds her arms and her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk. “Make it up to me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I was an ass last night, but I’d like to make it up to you. What do you say? Coffee tonight, my treat?”

She cocks her head to the side, and he almost has her smiling now, he’s sure of it.

“I have class tonight.”

“After that.”

“Homework.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

She shakes her head. “Work.”

“Okay.” He rests his elbows on the counter, gives her his most winning smile. “When are you free?”

A real smirk. Just a little one, but there. “I’m not.”

“Ever?”

“Not for coffee.”

“Dinner, then. A movie?”

She bends forward, mimicking his position from the other side of the counter, her nose only inches from his. She smells like cinnamon. He can’t breathe.

“Sorry, Fox-Just-Mulder. I’m not interested.”

“Because I was an ass?”

“Because…”

“I was an ass.” He nods, smiling. “I get it. Okay. A name, then. Just tell me your name.”

She taps a finger to her lips in thought and he really wishes she wouldn’t. He’s having a hard enough time keeping his eyes above sea level as it is.

“I thought you were supposed to be making it up to me. How’s me giving you something you making it up to me?”

Oh, but the library girl is fun.

“Well, I’m trying, but you won’t let me. Figure the least I can do is call you by your name.”

“Hmm.”

She sits back again, picks some fuzz off her cardigan (green today; she’s like a little Christmas elf). Her eyes cut up to his through her lashes and dart away. She straightens a stack of paper.

At last, she says, “Dana.”

“Dana.” He grins. Dana. It’s the prettiest name he’s ever heard.

—

He learns her schedule fast. He should; he’s there every day, leaning over the counter, cataloging her various sweaters and sighs.

He learns other things, too: she only wears glasses when she reads, she likes peanut M&Ms, she blasts through books faster than any person he’s ever seen. Carl Sagan on Monday, Susan Sontag on Tuesday, Toni Morrison on Wednesday, and he starts to suspect this girl might have been a child prodigy way back when. Maybe still is.

A week into this, he asks her—Dana, are you a genius?—and she doesn’t even look at him. Just flips the page, her mouth twisted into something trying not to be a smirk.

“You know,” he continues. It’s easier to talk when she’s not looking directly at him, her eyes like hypnotists’ perfect blue gems. “If you are a genius, you should tell me your last name. For when I hear it on the radio someday, I mean. ‘Dana So-and-So wins Nobel Prize.’ So I know it’s you.”

“Why would I want you to know it’s me?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Her jaw twitches, but she still doesn’t look up.

“I’m just saying,” he says. “It’d be nice one day, when you cure cancer or whatever, to be able to say ‘I knew her when.’” He leans down, crowding into her space, and lowers his voice. “And to satisfy everyone’s curiosity. Why, yes, she was always that beautiful.”

She looks up then, a sharp cut through her lashes, a stern glare belied by the soft flush on her cheeks.

“Mulder,” she warns, and he likes the way she says it. Mul-der.

“Yeah?”

She holds his gaze for a moment, and he can see himself reflected in her glasses. His ridiculous grin. The flop of hair he forgot to comb this morning, too concerned with making it to the library before class.

Then she looks away, eyes down, little pink tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. When she meets his eyes again, she is Professional Dana, all calm and poise.

“I have work to do,” she says and reaches for a stack of bookmarks on the edge of the desk. She taps them straight like a deck of cards.

He grins. “So you’re telling me I should go, then?”

She doesn’t look at him. She’s arranging pens in a cup by color now. “Mm-hmm.”

“And you won’t tell me your last name?”

Black pen, black pen, blue pen, red pen.

“You don’t need it.”

His grin widens and he leans in just a little farther. She doesn’t retreat. He likes that about her.

“If you say so,” he whispers.

She nods, curt. “I do.”

He straightens and hitches his backpack up on one shoulder.

“You’re a cruel woman, Dana,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She rolls her eyes and he almost—almost—misses the way she smiles when he turns away: small, private, like she doesn’t even mean to be smiling at all

#fox mulder #dana scully #msr #msr fanfic #txf #myfic #there are 46 days until i graduate #my college experience hasn't been nearly as enjoyable as theirs is gonna be #;) ;) ;) #ch 2 is done and will come maybe some time next week! #hope u like it! #but even if u don't! #i like it and am having a ball! #fox mulder is obsessed with dana scully in all universes ok!!! #paracosm

[lokispettigerr]

Devil In Disguise Part 3: Loki x Female Reader! She-Devil SMUT (NSFW)

Summary: Loki has a mysterious new partner to work with. He is told to meet her at a small bar outside of town and is surprised in what he discovers and finds himself torn with the deal that he may have to make and the manner in which it is made *wink*.

Word Count: 5891

Warnings: Non-Con

A/N: Part 1 and Part 2 on the MASTERLIST located in my bio. Yeah Thranduil might pop in with another name. He pretty to me lol. ***I will post a one shot next week to take a short break from this fic. 

Taglist: in reblog

The She-Devil being one for surprises and anticipation had asked Loki, in the spirit of the upcoming masquerade, to get ready separately and arrive separately. 

The She-Devil clapped her hands excitedly, “It’ll be such fun, Silvertongue!” “How will not knowing where you are be fun?” Loki asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport. Besides, we have imprinted, I want to see if you know me when you no longer recognize me.” The she devil approached Loki.

She leaned forward, grabbing him behind the neck to draw his ear to her lips “When all you have to identify me is by my voice…” “Or my touch,” she slid her tongue down the side of his neck,  “My lips on yours…” She planted a soft kiss on Loki’s lips, and when she withdrew she sucked on Loki’s bottom lip forcing him to smile. 

“Very well. You have convinced me, Demon Woman.” Loki leaned into her as she pulled away from the kiss. She giggled, pressing her hands against his chest, “It’s what I do best!” “Now, my Prince, if you will be so kind as to get the Hel out, go home and get ready for this evening! I will see you there.” She winked at Loki, the ever present glimmer of mischief in her dazzling eyes. Loki wrapped his long fingers around the delicate bones of her wrist, pulling her with him as he passed through the threshold of the office door, ready to devour her, “Oh, but how I will miss being with you, watching you undress for me here and prance around in the front of the mirror while you get ready.” She quirked an eyebrow, challenging him, “If you had your way you wouldn’t let me dress. We would never make it there. You can undress me after though.” The she-devil gave one final push against his chest, then ran her small hand down his hard abdomen, over his belt buckle to his erect length confined within his pants. She rubbed him there, taking a sharp inhale through her teeth, breathing in his arousal “Now go, before I reconsider and beg you to take me!” Loki chuckled at her, his cock jumping against her soft, needy palm, and stole one last kiss from her lips, before he walked away. “And don’t be late Trickster!” she called out after him, rubbing her lips where his cool kiss still lingered. Her hip rested against the threshold of the door as she smiled in a daze, twirling a lock of her hair. She was smitten like a helkitten. ***

The full moon acted as a glowing beacon for Loki as he approached the side door of “Club Mayhem”. He looked up at it, his already silver complexion being bathed in the radiant glow.

There had been a recent downpour from the hot air mixing with a cool wind and he could smell the fresh fallen rain on the pavement. With ease he strode over a large puddle, his reflection passing through it like the shadow of death or the grim reaper. He had chosen to wear his all black outfit. His she-devil had yet to see him in it and he was looking forward to seeing her reaction.   Loki had even decided to slick back his hair which made him look ever more the predator than usual. Before reaching the side door of the club, he tugged down his black, half-mask to cover his face. It was smooth and resembled that of the terrifying visage of a black panther. He knew his Demon Woman would enjoy it. Once, upon his recollection, the she-devil had told him, while they were wrapped up in one another, naked, after a hard fuck that he looked much like a black panther that lay in wait behind the tall sea of grass--waiting to pounce on some poor lowly creature of prey. He had turned to her, the green satin sheet that had covered the bed falling away to expose his alabaster skin. “How do you mean?” He asked as he propped his head up with his hand. “Well, you just have that ever so hungry look in your eyes.” Her hand trailed up to cup his jaw and her thumb rubbed his cheek. There was a sudden distant look that came into her eyes while she looked at him, “You know, when I was a girl, Daddy, in order to teach me a lesson of obedience threw me into the pit of the helcats. He had starved them for days before, so they would be aggressive and hungry. I put up the fight of my life, just a small girl then. I had more than 5 guards drag me to the entrance of the pit. Finally, my father ordered the gates open and instructed the guards to throw me within.” She had continued stroking his cheek, though her lip was quivering, her voice a satiny hush that wrapped around him and threatened to pull him with her. “Many of the guards had known me since I was a babe in the belly of my mother. They’d raised me, protected me, and taught me as if I was one of their own.” She sniffed, “They knew the wrath of my father was unforgiving and though tears streamed down my cheeks they threw me in with the helcats nonetheless. “Many of them apologized,” she chuckled, deepening her voice to mimic a male guards, “So sorry, my Princess. Forgive me, my Princess.”

“When I was sure Daddy wasn’t coming back for me, I dried up my tears. I had to let go of the sadness and loneliness and fear that I felt. The helcats sensed weakness. Any sign of weakness and they were likely to pounce and make a meal of me.” Her voice had broken while she was telling the story and she had to pause to keep from sobbing. Loki moved to pull her to his chest but she brushed his hand away, “No, please. Let me finish. Well, I-I didn’t last long, Daddy saw to that when he had starved those poor beasts. Mind you, they didn’t take to kindness or affection either. They, like the helhounds were used to separate souls from bodies, ripping and wrenching them from their flesh to be dragged down to the pits of Helheim. I’ll spare you the gorey details, but I did everything I thought I could. I mean I ran, I stood my ground, I played dead. Nothing worked.” The Princess looked down, tears coating her long lashes. Loki had thought they looked more appropriate on a doe than on the strong she-devil. “So what happened then?” Loki asked her in no more than a whisper. “Daddy came along, a torch flame burning from his right hand.” Loki wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I remember very vividly being in the dark with the helcats and seeing a light chasing away the shadows. I remember thinking, my savior had finally come. It didn’t matter at that point I just needed my wounds tended to, professionally, really.” The she-devil laughed to herself. “Daddy didn’t expect to find me in the state I was in. I was badly wounded, bleeding out. Probably would have died within an hour. The wounds were much to bad for me to heal on my own, even with my accelerated healing abilities. The venom that drips from the fangs of the helcats is very potent.” She sat up, in front of Loki, the sheets falling to expose her beautiful body, her breasts, her cloven womanhood, and several, giant silver-colored scars here and there. “Daddy found them surrounding me, licking my wounds, laying next to me to keep my warm. You see, he didn’t expect me to become friends with them, it was something that had never happened. Not once has anyone tamed the wild, ferocious soul of a helcat.” “Until you,” Loki observed. “Until me,” she agreed, “You see, the alpha helcat, a Queen, must have sensed something in me. Her conscious energy prodded my own and saw me for who I am I ‘spose. I dunno, something about me anyway made her make all of them stop tearing my skin to pieces. She fought them to force them to stop.” She looked at Loki a smile rising on her red lips. “Funny, you’ll like this, the helcat Queen, her name was ‘Fidelus’. She was named after my mother. Interestingly, she was born the same day my mother died.” Her eyes twinkled as she left her memories. “Loki,” she whispered his name, “there is just something about you, that reminds me of something in those cats. Wild, catastrophic, ferocious, volatile, yet in some strange harmony with my very being. A beast or a monster to the masses that somehow understood me so completely it saw me for, well, me.” Loki was stunned that night, he didn’t know what to say for what seemed like the first time in his life, instead, he had planted a kiss on her full lips.

And now, here he was on the prowl, hunting for his Demon Woman. He couldn’t wait to see the joy on her face when she saw what he had dressed up as. Loki stood in front of the basement door. It was metal, and when he knocked a loud, metallic bang clamored in his ears. After a moment an intercom system near the doorknob beeped, “Name?” the voice on the other end called out. “Loki Laufeyson,” Loki called out as he leaned close to the intercom system. Another moment passed, “You aren’t on the list, maybe try the club down the block.” Loki blinked. He knew he was at the right club, he had made sure of it… A thought came into his head and he cleared his throat, rolling his eyes as he pressed the button next to the intercom system, “Name?” the voice called out again. “Silvertongue,” Loki sighed. The door locks clicked, in succession. Leave it to her to put his “pet name” on the list. Loki grumbled under his breath as he rushed into the basement entryway. Though no one was around to hear it sounded something like, “Choke her...probably like...though.” *** Loki walked up the basement steps, taking two at a time with ease. He tapped four times, as instructed on the door to the cellar, and it opened slowly. As he exited the cellar he pulled on his black suit and smoothed down his jet, gleaming hair. The club was extravagant. Most of the masquerade decor seemed to be in some sort of paradise scene. There was fog lurking about, trickling across the floor from a machine that blew out billowy smoke that made it look like the whole club was in a cloud. There were white and silver light streamers hanging from the ceiling, snaking down towards the party guest, and there were lights spread throughout the crowd- tall lights that shot up into the cloudy room looking like still search lights. It gave the club an eerie, yet beautiful glow. Loki could feel a hum in the air, a vibration that he had quickly become accustomed to as a signal that his mate was nearby. He had no idea how he would find her. The party-goers were everywhere, clinking glasses filled with golden bubbly drink, laughing boisterously, and swaying to a song. In the crowd, servers darted in and out carrying trays of food, tiny quiches and cakes lined their trays. There were large, wall to floor sheer fabric like curtains hanging from the ceiling and lining the walls of the club. Loki was astounded to find that upon his inspection, the theme of the decor was “heaven”-- because of course Christian myths dominated this Midgardian culture. How peculiar it was to have the Princess of Hel, a She-Devil at that, stalking the crowd for a lost soul to claim and take back to her home realm. Loki chuckled to himself at the irony and began to push through the party-goers on his hunt for the she-devil. She wasn’t one to ever make things easy, and he sensed that she liked the chase--a good game of cat and mouse. Of course, she liked to fool others into thinking she was the mouse, initially, but soon the tables would turn and she would become the predator. She was good at games, at tricks-- just like Loki. She had even once told him, one of the first nights that they were together, that she would rather be the hunter than the prey, every time-- and yet, here she was making herself hard to find. Loki didn’t mind though, if he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he too liked the game of chase.

Loki stopped in the crowd of bodies, he needed to use his senses to find his She-Devil and right now everything was blasting through. He felt as if he was spinning from all of the stimuli. And there, something, over there. He reached out with his thoughts to caress the mind of the one he felt. It was unmistakably her, but there was something else with it, wrapping around it, seemingly mingling with her unspeakably strong energy. Loki turned to search from where he had just come and found her. She had climbed the winding stairs to rest at the top of a balcony overlooking the partygoers. Watching her made Loki feel like he could no longer catch his breath. All his blood rushed loudly within him and his groin filled with the familiar tingling sensation.

She wore the most beautiful dress. The fabric was in a sense sheer and the color of it was an off white. There were red, orange and yellow sequins throughout-- especially covering her bosoms and her womanhood. It made it look likes flames were licking up the fabric of the dress and that his mate was in truth, on fire. When she moved this way and that the flames flickered maddeningly, drawing the attention of the people around her. And when she turned to talk with someone who had approached her from behind he could see that the back of the dress had a long train with the same sequined flames leaping up it-- making it look like as she walked she created some sort of path of destruction that she left in her wake. She created a fire that enraptured the world and ground beneath her feet. Her hair was loose and spiraled down her bare back in an elegant way that much was like the flames of her dress-- at times it seemed to have a life of it’s own-- it was wild in a mysterious way, a long mane of grace. She was temptation in its purest form.  Instead of a mask, she wore a white cloth around her eyes-- lace it appeared to be. Loki wondered why this was, but perhaps, most interesting was that she allowed her own horns to protrude crudely from her terrible, yet magnetic visage. Because everyone was in costume, her horns were not out of the ordinary. Loki again was reminded of the Christian myths he had studied as a young boy and thought about how the devil came to be. He was cast out from heaven, an angel at one time. His name- “The Morning Star”, and now Loki’s mate looked as if she was the devil, she was indeed a star. She was his star that had come crashing down from the multiverse. Though she was horrifying to behold everyone seemed to be drawn around her like a group of wild animals that had stumbled upon a dangerous bonfire that they couldn’t help but be curious about. Wild animals that didn’t know the true destruction the bonfire could easily bring them if they wind blew it out of its healthy confinement. Loki thought how helpful and useful a contained fire could be but how destructive and catastrophic it always had the potential to become. Even the smallest flicker of a candle flame could bring down an entire forest and mortals were helpless to even put an end to it.

A smile came to Loki’s lips as he watched his She-Devil mate, taking in her excellence. However, someone moved in front of her, blocking her from Loki’s view and his lips quickly forsook the smile.

The man who stood before her had long, silvery white hair. He was fair skinned with darker eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. He grabbed her arm to pull her closer to his lips so he could whisper in her ear and Loki watched as she patted the strange man with one arm as she laughed musically at whatever the stranger had just told her. Even Loki was able to admit when a man was fairly attractive and as far as mortals went this man was divine. His nose was sharp, almost cruely so and his chin was pointed with slyness. He seemed rather clever, though not a match for Loki himself. He glowed in the lowlit light of the club as if his skin was giving off some radiant silver aura which was battling or even attempting to court the flaming aura of his own mate.

Something about the man’s actions sent a shock of anger through Loki. The man seemed possessive over Loki’s Demon Woman. They acted very familiar with one another and Loki could sense black jealousy within himself. Though his She-Devil seemed to act fondly towards the man it almost seemed as if there was a hint of urgency or even danger underneath the emotions that she wore. Loki felt that he needed to be by her side immediately in case this odd stranger would decide at any moment to attack her, but Loki knew deep down that his She-Devil could fend off her enemies easily. Yet why was it that she seemed to give off a sense of caution? Was she possibly excited instead of frightened? Or was she perhaps, afraid of how the man made her feel?

Loki stalked forward in hopes to walk between the two. The man was awfully close to his mate and this was something he would not stand for. His She-Devil mate’s mouth dropped when she spotted him, she was speechless. He knew that she instantly recognized what he had dressed as for her. Her face lit up and she flashed a mega-watt smile ecstatic to see her God of Mischief.

“Oh, good! It’s my Silvertongued Prince!” his mate exclaimed excitedly. “I have been so lonesome without you by my side, Gabriel sought me out in this crowd to keep me company.” her arm wrapped around Loki’s and her fingers tightly squeezed his bicep as if indicating some information to him that he was not privy to as of yet.

“Loki, is it?” Gabriel asked holding out his slender, glowing hand for Loki to take. His voice was like muted velvet, full of lies, “Our Princess has told me so much about you.” Loki shuddered at Gabriel’s mention of “Our Princess”. She was Loki’s alone. Loki glanced down at the hand that Gabriel held forth with a taste of disdain on his face, “A pleasure,” he said clipped, pulling his She-Devil closer to him while he towered over her protectively. He looked at the surrounding crowd, showing Gabriel that he had no interest in getting to know him.

It was unusual that the Demon Woman appeared uncomfortable, yet now with the two men before her Loki could tell that she was out of sorts.

“Gabriel!” the She-Devil called out over the crowd and the thumping music, “would you be so kind as to get myself and Loki some of that delicious vodka you introduced me to earlier?” Gabriel replied with a nod, “Of course my dearest, anything for you.” he threw daggers with his eyes at Loki and bent forward to place a kiss on the She-Devil’s cheek possessively. Loki could have called forth his Jotun form, red eyes glowing while he ripped the man limb from limb and tore at his throat with his teeth. Instead, he smiled kindly, nodding as Gabriel left in search of the drinks.  

“Loki…” his She-Devil whispered, “must you act to territorial? I wanted to yell at you both to put your damn swords away!” she hissed. “I don’t like him.” For a moment the She-Devil was speechless, “Ah, well, so what? Did I ask you? Gabriel is the acolyte I mentioned this morning. The one who so helpfully kept tabs on our lost soul. He does it all for me. Must you act like an animal in heat?”

“Yes!” Loki spat. “Ugh! You...Sometimes I just want to push you and knock some sense into you, for Hel’s sake, Loki!”

“I could easily do the same to you this very moment!” Loki’s eyes flashed at her in the dim light of the club, displaying hostility and something else-- a kind of sexual hunger and desperation. “Whatever!” she barked back at Loki, “I don’t want to discuss this now, our soul is nearby.” Loki didn’t want to let this go, but he had a job to do, there was a reason he was here and he could not forsake that. “Where is the one we hunt?”

The She-Devil reached up to grab Loki by the should of his black suit, setting his body up so he could easily spot the lost soul. “There, under the alcove, do you see? He’s talking to someone wearing a muzzle around their mouth.”

“You’re sure?” Loki asked, searching his mate’s face for the answer as she nodded.

“When Gabriel comes back we can chat strategy. Ah, here he is, speak of the Devil.” Gabriel handed them both glasses of vodka, “Try it Loki! It is something exquisite!”

“As are you, Princess,” Gabriel purred as he reached out to rub her bare arm. Loki’s fist clenched in response, *how dare this man be so blatant with his disrespect!*

“Oh Gabriel, Stop!” she laughed, “We have work to do.” “Yes, it would seem that you need to focus your attention on the job at hand.” Loki growled.

“Gabriel,” the Demon Woman interrupted, “Bring the mortal to the suite on the third floor, lure him in some way, you’re good at that. There Loki and myself will wait. Once you arrive with the soul, Loki and I will handle the rest. We will meet you there, alright Gabriel?” “Of course, Princess.” Gabriel said before he made his way towards the soul. “Loki,” the She-Devil addressed him, “come with me.” She reached for his hand and Loki let her lead him to the suite to await their victim. “Loki, because the soul broke a deal with me I have to reforge a new one to make sure they are locked within this one. It cannot be broken. Will you be able to remain calm?”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked, “you don’t mean you have to fuck this bargain breaker…” “Loki, you know I do.” she tried to comfort him with a kiss on his lips, but he turned from her. “Remember, it means nothing. I have to make this deal, this is the only way I  can get this soul where it belongs, in the hands of my father.” “And what of me? Why am I even here, it doesn’t seem that I am of much use for you!” Loki growled at her with such force that she flinched, pulling away from him. “No, I need you. I always need you.”

“You do not! You are entirely capable of taking care of yourself!”

She huffed with desperation and frustration, “Are you coming or what?”

Loki followed her, though he was seething with rage, this would be the second time he would see her in the midst of making a deal, but this time it wouldn’t be with him. He didn’t want to watch this. Would Gabriel watch as well? Gabriel!... Loki’s teeth clenched at the thought of Gabriel seeing his mate in all her splendid glory, unclothed, without her glamour before them.

“Please,” she turned to him, before opening the door to the empty suite,  “Behave. We can’t have this going awry.”

“Fine,” Loki mumbled under his breath, full of reluctance.

“Gabriel works quickly, he should be here any second now,” she said, trailing off. “Would you like to take a seat?” “No.” She muttered something under her breath.

Finally, the door rattled, and in barged Gabriel with his lips pressed against the mouth of their prey who mumbled and fumbled at the strings holding Gabriel’s clothing closed. They stumbled into the room, and Gabriel pulled back. “My Princess, here he is.”

The prey looked around, confusedly for a moment-- either from the effect of Gabriel or the situation. When his eyes fell on the Princess of Hel he tried to back away, but Loki was now standing between him and the door with a wicked, frightening grin on his face. The prey turned from Loki, feeling his murderous vibes. “No, no, no,” he whispered turning back to the Princess of Hel, “Please, I’m sorry, I beg of you, I don’t want to die!” He fell to his knees, crawling on the ground towards her.

“You grovel for your life in front of the Princess of Hel?” Gabriel spat disgusted, “And to think I had to kiss you.” He wiped his lips with his fist. “You broke our deal.” The She-Devil spoke in a hushed tone, her voice was sinister yet soothing, “Your soul belongs to me and to my father as well.” She looked down at him, kneeling on the carpet of the suite. “Please, let me go, I swear, I just. Not yet, Princess.” She knelt to his level, pulling his face up to look at her, “You know I can’t,” she crooned, “If it isn’t me it might be the helcats or the helhounds, and we wouldn’t want that. They will be much worse than me. Wouldn't you rather go out feeling pleasure than pain?” She reached up to slip the shoulder straps off her shoulders one at a time, the bodice of the dress fell to expose the brilliant scar covered skin of her bosoms. The prey was speechless, his eyes darted between her breasts covetously. His hand reached out to give them both a good fondle, but she batted them away, “Ah, ah, ah, not until you pledge your soul to me…” Without hesitation he replied, “I pledge my soul to you, I will bargain it to you. Just please, I need to feel you again.” “Very well,” she chuckled, glancing at Loki as she rose to her full height, pulling the prey along with her. Her eyes remained locked with Loki’s as the prey began to plant sloppy, hungry kisses on each breasts. His wet tongue darted out to tickle and pluck at each pink nipple. When her breasts filled his lips he suckled on it, moaning deeply, as if he was trying to get milk to come forth. She giggled, “Gentle now.” Her hand went to the soul's hair to grab at it, and her eyes would drift closed from time to time as the prey’s tongue would glide over her sensitive, erect nipples.

He stopped suckling and licking to look up at her, his neck still craned towards her breasts. “Please, Princess, can I please?” He begged. She nodded in answer and he wrenched the dress from around her curving hips, it fluttered to the floor and she stepped out of it. “Lay down, now,” she ordered and the prey did as she bid.

She set herself upon him then, easily taking his erect, jumping manhood inside of her. When he parted her lips with his length she sighed, contentedly. Her eyes rolled as she felt pleasure of the flesh ignite within her. She looked back towards Loki a sadistic smile on her full lips. Loki’s blood  was boiling and he looked away from her, he didn’t want to watch the scene that was unfolding before him like an unwanted disease of the mind. He knew if he watched her ride this prey animal that the sight would be trapped in his mind, incurable forever.

As he looked away he saw Gabriel sitting in a chair, looking entirely seduced by his mate. Loki had had *enough*! Of course, he would allow her to finish what must be done, he had promised, but he had cleverly chosen his words. He made no mention of behaving or acting civil towards the voyeurist upon the chair. He walked towards him, his feet beating against the ground angrily. His hands reached down to grib Gabriel’s collar and easily lifted him to his feet. “Get out.” he hissed venomously-- a clear warning. “You do not belong here! She does not belong to you! Look at her with this perversity again and I shall pluck the eyes from your face.” Loki dragged Gabriel towards the door, opened it and threw Gabriel without, turning back and slamming the door making the metal threshold shake and leaving Gabriel without a chance to respond.

When Loki turned back towards his She-Devil he saw that she was just finishing up, quick enough, but what mortal could last long with a succubus such as her? She had transformed into her true, monstrous, seductive form and was sucking the blood from the man’s neck when Loki stalked over, to her, pushing her aside. His Jotun form was screaming to be acknowledged and without care he allowed the blue tint to rise on his skin, his eyes glowed feverishly with the fury pumping within his veins.

“Hope you enjoyed it!” he spat, “touching her was the last thing you ever did!” and his hand brought forth a long, dagger made of ice. He slit the prey’s throat with it. “Now,” he turned, his rage overtaking him, “I will deal with you, Demon Woman!” Again, she smiled, but this time with a masochistic edge, she wanted Loki to punish her! “You vile, evil woman!” he growled at her, “you are mine and mine alone, I will destroy that soaking pussy of yours until you plead for mercy, yet I won’t stop! My seed will gush forth into your womb! I want your flat, taught belly to be full of my hot seed! You are mine, I claim you! No one else can have you! All mine!” His teeth clenched together and his muscles trembled with adrenaline, his cock jumped at the thought of pumping all of his cum within her belly.

“Loki, Loki, wait” her hand went forth pressing against his unforgiving abdomen. “It is too late for that, Demon Woman!” Loki was truly savage, he was possessed!

“Stop, please I can--” but before she could finish Loki’s cock pushed through her soaking, wet lips, plunging into the weeping cave of her womanhood. “Ah!” she sighed with both pleasure and pain. He filled her up with ease. “Mine!” he barked back at her as he humped her, his hips sliding his cock between her folds, the head of his dick rammed into her walls, to the end of her. His head fell down as he panted heavily from the adrenaline coursing through his Jotun form and claimed her breasts with his own cool tongue. She hissed against the harsh, unforgiving temperature. “Mine,” he mumbled his mouth full of her nipple and he tested it, biting at it between his sharp teeth causing a deep penetrating sensation to ache through it in an erotic way. The She-Devil’s horns were still upon her brow and when she tried to buck against Loki his hand went up to hold her down by her horns. “Stop, Loki! Please!” she cried out, flinching from the pain he was inflicting upon her soft inner flesh. “Mine!” he rumbled. She moaned as he shoved his long length against her cervix and his hand quickly went to her lips, he held her mouth shut as he whispered in her ear. “I will possess you body and soul, I will tear your walls in two if you do not submit to your Master. This pussy belongs to me! You gush for me and my cock will squirt my seed deep into your belly until you are full of it and ache!” She moaned against his palm, excited and aroused by the thought. Shining droplets of sweat began to bead on her chest and on her forehead. “Oh you like that do you, Y/N?” She fervently nodded her head, her hips bucking and coaxing him to release within her.

“Now I want you to be a good girl and clench those pussy muscles for me,” he whispered against her neck. “--Muhhn” she moaned from beneath the palm of his hand. “That’s a good girl for me,” Loki purred. “Now, clench those walls around me and don’t stop until you cum for me.” The She-Devil began to clench her muscles as Loki’s own muscles rippled. With each thrust his core would tighten, his abdomen becoming more defined, and his glutes tightening.

He drew a sharp inhale of breath when she pulled at his cock tightly, “Oh, Norns, Yes.”

The more her velvet walls pulled and gripped around Loki, the closer he came to the edge of orgasm.

But he wasn’t finished with her yet, he needed her to cum for him. The voluntary clenches she gave him were bliss, but the involuntary clenches that happened when she was having a body convulsing orgasm not only pleased him but also felt like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Loki began to move his hips magnetically, so tribally that the flesh above his cock began to grip and rub her satin soft, swollen-with-arousal, clit. With each thrust she would whimper from the pleasure.

Loki commanded her body as if he was her one, true master. An orgasm rose, brewing deep within her hips and finally the dam broke. The orgasm the She-Devil had, made her head tilt back in complete ecstasy. There was a loud hum in her ears and neurons causing a trail of fire to shoot from her groin to the top of her head.

Like Loki had expected, her walls clenched, harder, faster around him, unable to stop, without consent or control and Loki followed her. His hot cum gushed from the weeping head of his length, and he thrust his hips forward ramming the head of his cock into her cervix. He wanted every last drop to enter her. He was overcome with desire to fill her belly full of his cum and once he was finished squirting his seed in her he grabbed her beneath her shoulders and sat up with her cradled against his chest.

They sat there, her on his lap exhausted and him breathing in her spicy scent. Their own bond and bargain was unbreakable. Together they would be unstoppable.

No one could break them apart. Not Odin, not Gabriel, not a soul in the nine realms. Loki was convinced, yet he still couldn't shake the dream that he had just had. What did it really mean and why did he continue to have such a dream? No matter the reason, he would never let go of his She-Devil mate.  

Gabriel is gorgeous truly. Loki is right about that! 

Thank you all again for being so patient with me and supportive! Please ne so kind as to warm my heart with some exciting feedback and a reblog.   ***If you would like to be on the taglist for this fic or a future fic please send me an ask.  Peace, Loki’s Pet Tiger

#loki fanfic #loki #loki marvel #imagine loki #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Loki mcu #loki x you #loki lemons #loki smut #loki fluff #loki x reader #smut #fluff #tom hiddleston loki #tom hiddleston imagine

[honestsycrets]

Behind the Door

↳ modern au

Author’s Notes | for @lisinfleur

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader, abusive!oc x reader

❛ word count | 4750

❛ genre | oneshot with some angst

❛ summary | the girl in the hall, he wants to know her. the only one in his way? her abusive boyfriend.

❛  warnings | emotional abuse, physical abuse, abusive relationships, some violence

Money talked.

Hvitserk knew that it did and he had gotten lucky with his father’s reputation. His job was to play and travel; kicking his soccer ball across a dewy field every day. It was something natural and freeing to him, almost like if he was flying like mother’s falcon across the field. A pop and twist of his foot and he could whizz a ball with the soaring wind into a white knit net.

A life of salads, long practice days and a flight from Copenhagen out half way across the world led up to this moment carrying up suitcases to his new apartment. Luckily, the furniture was all moved in a few days before but-- fuck, he was preparing to be here for the long haul. That meant lots and lots of clothes being brought up this metal box of an elevator.

Ding! Fourteenth floor. The doors whizz open.

“--Really? You don’t think that’s too short?”

“I-- I thought it would look nice. I made it myself.”

Couple scuffles-- it wouldn’t be the first time he walked in on one. Usually, no one had the balls to do them in the open. Especially not in a well to do area like this. Hvitserk turns his huge suitcase in a circle and throws the dark duffel bag over his shoulder. As he passes the plasticy tags with black numbers of each door, he realizes that he’s getting painfully close to the couple-- and painfully close to his own apartment.

The man leans over into his girl’s face, tugging the hem of her mid-thigh length dress made of some comfortable sweater fabric. Hvitserk wore sweaters just like the one she had made into a dress-- complete with buttons down to her belly button. The richness of her choice in green made his mouth salivate with a burst of energy.

His synaesthesia was acting up today.

“Hey man, would you let your girl go out looking like this?” The man says harmlessly enough and true, Hvitserk thinks-- he might have been jealous too. Not because something was too short but because the girl looks too good. Dressed to the nines, manicured fingers flirtatiously in her hair and a pair of heels with a strap across cute toes painted black. Edgy. A hint of kinky past her preppy appearance. She must have been a hell of a fuck.

She stares straight ahead, over his shoulder and the nape length blonde hair that tickled the sides of her face. The man stands upright, several inches taller than her. Every once in a while, she would glance to Hvitserk’s jawline, running over the curling hairs of his jaw and then back to her blond haired, sea-eyed boyfriend. Or husband, god forbid. This guy was a complete ass.

“Uh.” He runs his tongue over his tooth. With a vapid smile, he shrugs his shoulders. “I can’t help you, man. Women like what they like.”

It’s the safest bet. The wheels of his suitcases clack as he stops in front of his plain door, draping the duffel bag on his suitcase. If he wasn’t being stupid, he could have sworn she flashed him an adorably belligerent smile, a bit of tooth peeking out from her lips. He shuffles in the pocket of his joggers, knocking away his leather wallet until he found the ring of his new keys.

“Yeah, yeah guess that’s the truth.” The man says looking to Hvitserk who opens the door, balancing with his foot. “You need help, dude?”

“Weren’t you going out?” Hvitserk asks. The woman shifts, a light shake in her head. She opens the door to their apartment and slides out of sight into the ill-lighted apartment.

“Na, I don’t think so.” The man jogs forward and takes ahold of his suitcase. He wheels it in. “I’m Jesper Sørensen.”

“Uh, Hvitserk.” He mutters.

“Number 10! Hvitserk Ragnarsson?”

Shit.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere, man.” He comes into his crisp apartment. It’s white-- dusty on his tongue as he walks in. He appreciates the calmness of the grey walls and matching dark hardwood floors. Had it been more than that, he might actually get triggered.

“You’re fucking lucky to do work like that. I do pharmaceuticals. Let you in on a secret brother, it’s some boring shit!”

I’m not your brother, Hvitserk thinks. He lets it go, stretching his back out and looking out toward the bright beach outside his window. He catalogues the bend of the beach in his eye knowing that he would most likely spend a lot of time here in the future. Then as to not ignore his new visitor, he turns back toward the column of stacked boxes.

“What can I say? I’m a lucky man.” Hvitserk beams a tall tale fake smile, pulling open a box. One of many, many boxes. Jesper takes a step toward the door— then stops.

“Hey uh, you need some help around here?”

Hvitserk looks toward him, dusting off a picture of his mother modeling.

“I mean you’ll be here forever man unless you got yourself a lady to do this.” Jesper scratches his head. Hvitserk finds it almost cute-- any of the women that he had in the past would only do it for sake of doing it so that they could rub it in his face that, ha! She got it done!

Hvitserk laughs. “Nah, my picker is broke. I get chicks that want me for my money.”

“Beats wanting attention all the time, right?” Jesper picks up a box and settles it on the ragged leather of his couch. “Shit, (Y/N) will be pissed at me all day.”

“She always like that?” Hvitserk makes small talk. He pulls a picture of Björn and he backpacking through Spain— his brother’s idea.

“Yeah. She needs attention all the time man. That’s why she wants to be a model even though her legs are short as shit.” Hvitserk remains quiet for some time debating whether to continue on that or not.

“She’s pretty.”

Jesper looks up, a small shake in his head even with his newfound friend’s words. Pretty, he can see the man think. It’s almost as if he feels threatened by those words. Hvitserk knew how men thought-- he had to. Ivar had a temper worse than this sack of shit.

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s pretty.”

Most days Hvitserk thought nothing of it.

He sat on his metal balcony looking out toward the beachside front. Fluffy clouds blocked most of the hot sun. There was a light breeze carrying on the wind. The people here are strange flying their thin kites on tangled strings or chasing each other on the sandy beach. Sometimes some dumbasses would explode fireworks by accident and other times, he might see something as outrageous as a scarved pug on a beach blue skateboard.

His favourite sight, when he was home, was her.

Jesper’s girl who would go out in a strappy bikini, a sheer midnight blue wrap on her round hips and an adorable straw hat complete with a matching bow. For hours she would walk the moist shoreline of the beach, bend down and go on her way.

Seashells, he theorized.

Then she would come up the stairs before Jesper would get home, slapping black flip flops with wet cracks up the stairs. Sometimes he made it a point to go to the front door where she was, just like today.

“I see you have some sea-- seashells there sweetheart.” The older ladies there made it a point to talk to her. She stood with one, holding the back of her hat while drops of water trembled down sunbaked skin. Her hair would crust with the salty hair time after time.

“Oh, yes.” She says sweetly. “I am making a new dress.”

“A dress of shells?” The old lady croons curiously.

“My niece loves shells.” Her lips purse together, fresh with a perfect cherry chapstick. Hvitserk peeks his head out enough that the older women knew he was there listening. “I was thinking of making her a dress. I don’t see her often.”

“I’m so sorry dear.”

At the end of the conversation, Hvitserk made it a point to gather his ring of jingling keys and jam his phone, a little too fat, in his pocket. He could pick up dinner-- and have an excuse to talk to her more than with Jesper’s presence over her. For a girl walking the beach, he had to wonder what more there was to her when Jesper wasn’t looking.

“H-- Hey (Y/N).” He steps out just as she jangles with a ring of keys. She glances over her freckled shoulder, fluttering long lashes at him. His favourite part are the sun freckles that are baked onto her skin.

“Mr. Ragnarsson.” She says, turning around after popping the door open. Her foot keeps the door ajar while she stands there, now fiddling with a piece of hair. A small flirt-- women always fiddle with their hair when flirting.

“It’s Hvitserk.” He locks the door behind him, hands now in his pockets.

“Hvitserk. I should be going now. I’m not really… free today.”

It always lasts far too little. She slips into her door to go on about sewing her beautiful things. He gathers that by the fabric she totes up the stairs on occasion. Then, just as always, he goes on about his way down the stairs. It was lunch… and Hvitserk? Hvitserk had another salad on his mind.

If only he waited a while longer, he might have heard her sewing machine hit the floor.

Something was different.

He couldn’t place it but… she no longer spent time on the beach. Every night he had available he would look out expecting to see her in her cute bikini, plucking sand crusted shells and rushing home with flopping flipflops before the sun broke past the horizon.

Number 10, Hvitserk Ragnarsson does it again! Another stunning shot!

He flicks the buzzing television off. It was nothing but them pumping him up all the time. It would have been nice-- but he in no way wanted to be ostracized by the rest of his teammates. Perhaps that’s why him being sick, hacking and coughing up some mucky yellowish crap up his throat was for the best.

This way someone else could have the spotlight.

Ding-Dong!

Hm? Hvitserk’s feet shift between the leather and the soft white throw covering his feet. The hardwood floors are cool to the touch, so he hops the whole way into the door. One look on the peep hole revealed her. She stood barefoot against the dull blue carpet in the hall, looking down. He draws the heavy door apart.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, eyes looking down to a lime coloured bowl covered in sticky plastic wrap. Her long hair tumbles around half of her face-- obscuring one eye. She shifts in her jaunty yellow sundress.

“You didn’t go to practice.” She states. “I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well.”

He didn’t know she noticed-- he practiced most days, went to games when he needed to and flew out the country on a regular schedule. It was almost as good as having Ubbe to notice when he was home and when he wasn’t.

“Yeah, stomach flu or something.” He comments, stepping aside. “You wanna come in?”

“Oh no I-- I shouldn’t.” She says so abruptly that he thinks that she might have a conniption. He looks around the vanilla walls of the hall.

“I don’t think he’s out there.” Hvitserk says almost knowingly. He didn’t know the intimate details of their relationship. Yet when it was game day, not for soccer, he had noticed how harshly Jesper spoke of her.

The amount of time she spent sewing-- when in his words, she should have been cleaning and cooking. She should have been on her knees waiting to suck him off. If he were honest, not even he would spend his time degrading himself on the ground for a sack of shit like him.

Hvitserk brings the bowl to the milky countertop of his kitchen just around the corner. She shyly ambles around, stopping short of the breakfast bar. He unwraps the bowl, looking at her warm chicken soup with doughy noodles.

“Is that another of (Y/N)’s creations?” He looks back to her.

“Oh I worked in a Chinese restaurant once--”

“No.” Hvitserk laughs, motioning his finger in a twirl. “The dress.”

She glances down and slaps her hands against the beautiful a-line skirt. Her hands slip down from covering the v-neckline to gently pull out the flowy skirt. Then playfully she twirls around in a quick spin, her skirt becoming nice and full. When she stops, she doesn’t realize that her hair sways away from her normally perfectly made up face. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a blotch on her cheekbone.

“It is!” She says all at once with a cute little laugh. “Jesper said it was too short.”

“Shorter the better for me.” Hvitserk reaches for a black ladle inside the milky drawer. “It looks like something mor would like.”

“Aslaug?” She leans over the countertop with one hand propping up her cheek. He has to force himself to look away from the fingerprint bruises and cigarette burns littering her arms.

“No other!” Hvitserk spoons a bowl for her and then one for him. “Your designs-- they’re exactly the sort of thing she’d like. Uh, this way.” He sets the ladle into the stainless steel stink and motions her out toward his favourite place in the entire apartment-- the balcony.

She daintily sits upon the ottoman that usually he sets his sneakers upon. Almost like a doll-- because she sits there effortlessly. He notices the fine detail of her skirt, glimmering with crushed shells. Or what he thinks might be the crushed shells. She takes a sip of the salty soup she’s made, looking out toward the lapsing waves on the grainy shore.

“Maybe you could give me your portfolio.” Hvitserk says. “I know you have one with all the pieces you make. She might be interested.”

“You think so?!”

“Yeah, of course.” He says, sniffling. “Plus when you model them, it makes it that much better.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.”

“You’re gorgeous.” Hvitserk blurts out, then realizes his words promptly. He runs his tongue up over the honey coloured hairs of his moustache, trying to decide why exactly he said what he said. She doesn’t seem exactly off put, gazing out at the sun setting behind the line of the horizon.

“I haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“If you had someone who was worth a shit, maybe they would tell you. I know I would.” He glances up from his doughy noodles off to her, she brightens into a smile-- a lying smile when she promptly loses it to the tune of her phone vibrating intensely. He wonders if that dress has pockets when she swipes it out from her bra, eradicating that thought the second he had it.

“Jesper?” He asks.

“Yeah I-- he’s probably hungry. He doesn’t like it when I leave his food out.” She murmurs, silencing the phone with a click of the button on the side.

Hvitserk clears his throat. “Yeah, listen (Y/N), the mark across your cheek--”

“I fell in the bathroom.”

This must have happened a million times with her because she had an answer before he could even formulate a complete answer for him. He recalls what his mother said over the phone about women in abuse. Fighting them, it would just make it that much easier to stay. If she left him, it would be endlessly better than seeing her body littered in bruises.

“Right.” He says. “Just uh… make sure to watch out for yourself. Sharp corners, right?”

Although she doesn’t say anything as she gets up, she gleams a sweet, apologetic look in her eye. She straightens out her beautiful dress and takes the bowl to the kitchen. Somewhere behind him, he hears:

“Thank you, Hvitserk.”

Then, like usual-- she’s out the door.

In Hvitserk’s life, he was never exactly sure of anything. He wasn’t sure if Ivar really loved him. He wasn’t sure if moving across the world was the right choice-- but he was sure of one thing. Those weren’t lovemaking screams.

“Where were you!” It’s muffled. “You were with that fuckin’ Ragnarsson again!”

He wasn’t dumb. He knew when a duck was a duck and that frantic screaming-- her intermittent “please” was definitely not something anyone should be ignoring. The apartment complex is eerily silent other than the crashing of objects within her apartment.

“Let go!”

Brinnng. Brinnng.

“Hvit?” It’s like six in the morning there-- he knows. His brother’s voice is weighed down heavy on the other line. Heavier than his usual husk and groan that he always teased Ubbe about growing up. “It’s--”

“Six, I know.” He whispers. His voice almost sotto voce it has gone so low. “Listen I--”

“FUCKING WHORE!”

“Hvit?”

“Yeah, no I’m here, sorry.” Hvitserk considers his brother once again, tearing his eyes from the heavy door that separates him from the hallway. “My neighbors are fighting.”

“Are you scared?” Ubbe says from across the line. He feels almost six again, holding onto the tails of Ubbe’s shirt while they sought out cold waters to escape the endless pain mother put them through… together.

“No, I uh-- It might be my fault.”

“Your fault?” Ubbe shuffles on the other line. He can tell that his brother is sitting upright now. “What do you mean?”

“I should’ve put a goddamn bullet in your head the first time, fat fucking skank ass bitch!”

Hvitserk’s hand is at his mouth now that he stands in the hall closest to the door. The closer he got, the more audible her screams became. The door almost seems to vibrate underneath them. Or perhaps, in a way, that’s his chest that is buzzing with every moment of uncertainty sinking under his skin like the pricks of pins.

“I invited her in.”

For any ordinary man, harmless. Truly harmless. For a man that was considered more successful than Jesper, treason. He should have never said that he did not see Jesper down the hall. The man had ears in the walls and eyes constantly following her every little move.

Then, there’s silence. Nothing but the smoothness of a cello quartet that she typically would play when she was creating late at night with her hair up in a gorgeous midnight blue ribbon. He only knew as much because on occasions that she took her art book upon the beach, she drew. She would draw her hair up in a ribbon. Salty drawings of sexy, cute and even hopeful pieces would be in her hands when she came up the stairs.

It was supposed to be a soothing place for her. He ruined that too, as he quickly comes to the conclusion that Jesper caught onto Hvitserk’s haplessly excited expression every time she came up the stairs. Hvitserk shifts the waistband of his joggers, mind foggy and heavy with the headache that had been beating his head all day.

“Hvit you know better than that.” Ubbe says. “I told you not to let her in.”

He couldn’t help it. There was no way that he could have known the mood that Jesper would be and staring accusingly to the door, he paces to it. Then, popping the door open, he steps out into the soft, dimly lit hall.

“I know.” Hvitserk says wearily to even his own ears. His heart rate quickens, he can feel it beating against his skin, leaping like his mother’s stupid teacup pomeranian nipping at his ankles when he came home from high school with his brothers. “I’m sorry.”

His knuckles rasp at the last door, reaching to whoever is behind it. The susurration behind the door fills Hvitserk with premature anxiety, bubbling under his skin. Hvitserk slips his phone in his pocket and replaces a bud in his ear.

“Hvitr?” Ubbe shifts. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t say anything.” He says. “Just stay with me.”

The door opens.

“Hvitserk! Hvitserk!”

It smelled like bleach. The kind that his mother threw upon the carport floor after Ivar took a baseball bat to that kid’s head. So bad that he remembers his skin prickling with the sear of chemicals, his whole respiratory system bursting into hacks that he couldn’t control. He thought that he might not recover, wheezing for his mother.

It’s just a little burn, she said. You’ll recover. Do it for him.

The little boy and his parents were gone now. If he waited much longer, something told him that she would be too. The door opens-- but only slightly. Enough that Hvitserk catches Jesper’s cloudy blue eyes in the crack of the door. His lips pull into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hvitserrrrkkk.” He slurs in one long, jittery breath.

Hvitserk’s hand curls in the space between the door and the metal frame, yanking the door of his fingers to crack it back against Jesper’s forehead. This was crazy-- having Ubbe on the line, barking at him.

Got damn it Hvitserk!

He dips into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. With a scraping, rough voice he darts from Jesper’s lurch toward him, drawing out the gun from his waistband. Jesper jerks back, holding up his hands.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Hvitserk says, his chest tightening. He’s not breathing-- or so, he thinks he isn’t breathing. Jesper’s motions slow to a stop, dropping the heavy blade from his fat fingertips. It falls with a clatter on the hardwood floors.

“Where is she?” He says.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Jesper says again. This time, his words made his skin prickle. It only serves to aggravate him-- pushing his anger to bubble over the surface so quickly that he can feel himself gnashing his teeth already.

“You wouldn’t shoot me.” Jesper asks, his eye narrowing upon him. It’s the last he can take, turning his hand up from the outstretched position. The whole time he had been calling a bluff, and there it was, Jesper would have thought. Moments later, Hvitserk brought the butt of his gun down upon Jesper’s cheek, knocking him off balance and onto the ground.

“Where the fuck is she?!” He demands. He loses the control over his voice, raising in his tone when Ubbe reminds him. Check yourself, Hvitserk. He never wanted this life-- but he’s as much a Ragnarsson as any of his brothers sporting a blinding intense rage and in case of fight versus flight, well, they would always fight.

“The bathroom!”

Hvitserk makes a grunt of approval somewhere deep in the back of his throat, and then, his pistol comes upon him again. It’s a blur of slams, knocking him across the face with force until he drops to his satisfaction. In all his promises of what he wouldn’t be, he never thought that this would be him.

Rushing to clear the apartment on the way to the bathroom. Like Bjorn as a police officer showed him how to clear out his own home. In case anyone was ever snooping. Which… this was obviously not his case today.

Ssshhh…

It sounds like the ocean. The water coming in with great, swelling force. But instead of crashing and pulling back into the endless depths, Hvitserk’s bare feet squish. It’s… water. He cuts the corner into the master bathroom. Blood streaks with thin water over the bathroom floor, filling his tongue with the taste of iron before anything else. The red, red blood throws his heart into a pulsing overdrive. He follows the blood to her slashed calve. Her body draped over the edge of the tub. Not moving-- not… not…. Nothing.

“Hvitserk talk to me.” Ubbe calls out to him.

“Help me, Ubbe.”

Ten more minutes.

That was all Ubbe and she had left before he would be back. A litany of the counting down of seconds falls from her lips as she stands there, waiting warily for him to arrive. No guests were allowed at the plane gates and so they waited just outside the baggage claim for him.

Flight number 135, arrival from Los Angeles.

“He’s almost here.” Ubbe whispers from behind her. She stands there on a full stomach, knowing just that Hvitserk is going to want to eat anyway! Excitedly she refreshes her phone not just once-- but a hundred times.

Hvitserk I’m finally here! My numb ass isn’t yet, tho.

She looks over the calendar again, a barrel of excitement. It had been months since she last saw him. When she finally sees him darting down the stairs, ignoring the escalator-- she rushes to grasp her crutches at either side of her arms, standing up with a great amount of force.

“There’s my baby!” Hvitserk yells through the great open space of the baggage claim. Everyone had to have heard that. She hobbles forward, a beautiful deep blue dress hugging down to her knees. Hvitserk sweeps her off the ground, twirling her around while enjoying her brilliant laughter.

“Hvitserk!”

When he puts her down again, she sways, narrowly falling if not for her sweet Hvitserk dipping down to pick up her crutch. He supports her while she takes into her hand, limping in time with him.

“How was the flight?” She asks sweetly.

“It was good.” He responds in turn, looking down to her before over to Ubbe. The three slowly amble over to the metal baggage claim. The bags don’t come down the metal slide just yet. Hvitserk glances to the shifting plates and then finally chooses to say something.

“I heard that Mor approved your clothing line.” He says, slurring a little with loss of sleep on the plane. He couldn’t sleep an inch since he got on there. “The press seems to like your pieces in the line for uh, “adaptive” needs. Did you have to tell them about what happened?”

“Of course I had to.” She says. “My leg wasn’t like this when I met you, right? Modeling pretty bikinis and sundresses all day...”

Hvitserk shifts uncomfortably-- looking over to Ubbe who stands with his hands folded one over another. Her relationship wasn’t the only thing that ended that day. The dream of being some big supermodel like the Aslaug, queen of the supermodels, also died. Whether anyone said it or not-- no one wanted a model with a limp.

“(Y/N).” Ubbe prompts, thick and slurry. It's laughable to her now but for a congested airport where passengers are tightly clustered around their baggage claim, she knows that more than one has turned to look at her. The metal plates shift around the machine. Ubbe moves forward to go find Hvitserk’s bags.

“It wasn’t your fault okay?” She says. “Who knew a silly achilles tendon could make such a fuss.” She almost makes a joke of it. Maybe its to bite back the pain she was in on a constant basis. Just like his brother Ivar told him once.

“So you’re doing this for you, then?”

“I’m doing it because all women deserve to be sexy. All of them. My clothes will bring them that.” She leans against his arm. “Ivar understands.”

Ivar was also, oh, Hvitserk didn’t know-- born like that. Hvitserk worries what might happen from this new narrative of abuse. Not for his sake but for hers. His mother promised this would be done carefully to keep her safe.

“Yeah, you know, I do too.” Hvitserk swallows. “It’s good. It’s just--”

“You’re worried about me.” She shifts around, looking outside of large arching windows that bring in bright light. A radiant light that fills the airport with hope, and for her, as Hvitserk discovers… a new chance at life. Outside, Ivar reclines against the car with his hand upon his own crutch. It was only a loading zone but hey, being a cripple did have its benefits!

“Yeah.” Hvitserk swallows.

“You don’t have to be.”

Then as he opens his mouth again, she leans up to his lips. She places a closed lipped kiss upon his lips. Then as she turns, shouting at Ubbe to hurry up, Hvitserk smiles. This... this girl, the loud one with beautiful dresses and vibrant makeup, this was the real her.

“Because Hvitserk-- I’m finally free.”

@two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequilahead, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit,  @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @attorneyl, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly--canthrope

#Hvitserk x Reader #Hvitserk/Reader #Vikings x Reader #Vikings/Reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk's heathen feast #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #Hvitty imagines

[kurokoros]

hold me tight and think of home | part 3 snippet

After following the growing whispers of a star in Eldervair, the witch finds them through a trader located on the coast of the Wandering Sea. The news has spread, it seems, to the witch guilds near the wall separating their realm from the next. She hears the rumors on the wind and her scrying leads her to the coast and a young fence named Kurtz.

“And you’re sure they’re headed west?” the witch queen asks, watching him with her one good eye. In the weeks since she lost the star her magic has depleted further, sucking the beauty of her youth from her bones and leaving her a wrinkled, hollow husk. The remains of the last star have withered to nothing inside her.

She pulls the cowl lower around her face, hiding herself from the young man’s view. Her hair has turned the color of fresh snow and even the cherry-streak, the last of her livelihood, has begun to pale. Weaker now than she was before, she must find the star.

The fence barely pays any attention to her, sorting through a stack of paperwork on his desk. “‘S the same route the captain makes every year,” he tells the witch. “The Serpentine always ports in Brolga before making it’s way back up the coast.” He’s awfully loose-lipped about his associates, though here rumors breed more profit than loyalty.

So the star is headed to the wall then. And she has a head start. That simply won’t do.

Her lips purse in irritation and her one good eye narrows. “And the captain had a girl with him?” She speaks slowly, so even the fool of a fence can understand her. He’s scattered, jittery, and she knows his kind.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. He finally looks at her. A frown pulls at his mouth. “Never seen her before. Blonde, pretty, quiet. Not the kind that runs with pirates. Didn’t think much of her though.” He starts to turn back to his paperwork, but stops. “Why do you want to know about her?” Kurtz squints, trying to see her face beneath her dark hood.

Dark magic tickles at the tips of her fingers.

“Unfinished business.”

He stares at her for a moment longer. “Well,” Kurtz says, going back to his work. “I don’t know how else I can help you.”

The witch queen can think of one way. “Where can I find a Babylon Candle?”

Kurtz lets out a surprised laugh and shakes his head, much to her displeasure. “You can’t.” He snorts. “Not this side of the Wandering Sea. No one has seen a candle in years.”

Frustration licks at her insides. She lashes out at the fence, gripping his face in one hand. Kurtz inhales sharply but is unable to speak as she pinches his cheeks together, her fingers a vice around his jaw. The cowl shifts as she leans in toward the young man, revealing her withered face and blind eye. He tenses and she grins, pleased he knows who she is, that he knows the rumors.

“You speak of this to no one,” the witch queen hisses, breath hot against his cheek, her breath rancid. Her fingernails, thick and curved and warped into points like the claws of an animal, dig into the soft flesh of his cheeks, causing pinpricks of blood to rise to the surface.

Magic flickers at her fingertips, hazy green and misty. It sinks into his skin through his blood, writhing and feeding like a leech until it finds what it wants. The dark magic winds into his throat, choking him, and his tongue begins to burn. A gurgling whimper is all that leaves the young man.

The witch queen releases him just as suddenly and he collapses to his knees, coughing. That green haze crawls from his throat and dissipates in the air, leaving behind a brand on the back of his tongue. She smiles as she leaves.

Perhaps he won’t be so loose-lipped in the future.

#riverdale #this fic has been a gem to work on so far

[egg-of-mankhad]

Getting to know the character: Eigengrau Hatasashi

► Name ➔ "I am called Eigengrau of the Mankhad, and I share a name with the Hatasashis...my husbands!” ► Are you single ➔ “Married! With two...very beautiful and very patient and kind men. I really...really really love them.” ► Are you happy ➔   “I am still learning how to be. It’s a, well, it’s a process. I don’t know whether anyone is really truly happy in all honesty. But we all try the same, yes?” ► Are you angry? ➔   “I think I am. But...Bitterness might be a better way to describe it. I do get angry. I do get upset. But...I do not think it is wise to show it sometimes. Sorry uh--next question please?” ► Are your parents still married ➔  “I don’t know. I only grew up with one.”

NINE FACTS ► Birth Place ➔ “I was born on the coast of the Ruby Sea. Just south of the mountains near the Azim Steppe..” ► Hair Color ➔ “It is dark and--somewhat greenish? Kinda like seaweed, I think is a good way to describe it!” ► Eye Color ➔ “Red!” ► Birthday ➔ “15th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon, I think. Either that or the 14th one? I was told that I was born when the moon was full and...yeah, around there.” (February 14) ► Mood ➔ “I am alive, yes? I feel grateful for that at least.” ► Gender ➔ “I see myself as a man.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Summer!! The air is warm and beautiful, and the sun is out and shining and everyone is happy and everyone is outside and everyone is having fun and people are talking to each other and the trees are green and the sand is soft and the water is warm and the food is good and I really really really like summer” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Mornings are good because mornings are new days and every new day is a second chance--someone once told me that. A good friend did, yes.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE ► Are you in love ➔ “Every time I look at them I fall in love again.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I...I can’t trust that sort of thing no. Sometimes sight lies to you, does it not?” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “I walked away. He had found another that fitted him more, and it was either stay and become a side fling, or just...move on.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  “I have. I am not proud to have done it, but it is something I had to do. It was...It was the less cruel thing to do.” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “I’m just afraid of ruining things. Though my husbands both continue to stick with me and I with them and I don’t understand it at all. But maybe that’s what love is right?” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “I hug them so much, I love them” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I...Maybe? I don’t know” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ ”Unfortunately, this seems to be a constant thing I do. As much as I try not to I’m just--I’m sorry. It’s just hard. Let’s move on yes?”

SIX CHOICES ► Love or lust ➔ ”Always love. Lust is temporary. It carries you off into space and promises pleasure but nothing, absolutely nothing, makes you feel at home and as warm as love can. Love heals. I like love.” ► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “I haven’t tried Lemonade yet I don’t think.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ “I love dogs!!!! Dogs are so cute and friendly and they like to play, I pick dogs!” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “I think I am fine with just a small group of friends. I don’t think I should try for anything more than that..” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Why not both...?” ► Day or night ➔ “I really really love the night.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS ► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Yes. A lot throughout my life, really. As a youth and quite recently too. I’m an, ah, a really really bad boy sometimes.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ "Embarassingly enough...don’t tell my husbands. Especially not Khal” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Like you wouldn’t believe.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “I still do some nights.”

FOUR PREFERENCES ► Smile or eyes ➔ “It’s so easy to get lost in both, do I have to choose?.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ “On one hand, I really like hanging off of the arms of Khal. But on the other hand I really like being an available seat for Saiun to sit upon. Both of these have their benefits yes.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  “I like intelligence. One of my exes really knew a lot of stuff and he taught me a lot of neat things. But I was also really drawn to how pretty he was? And I feel like this is the same case for a lot of people I love too.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationships. I want to get to know people sometimes beyond just sex. I want to spend time with people. I want to learn about their histories. How they came to be who they are, and how they continue to remain so strong. I am a slut, but that’s not all that I am.”

FAMILY ► Do you and your family get along ➔ “I never had a good relationship with my father. A lot of times he had...he’s let me know how much he wishes I didn’t exist. Sometimes I find myself agreeing with him.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “I feel like I am luckier than a lot of people to be honest. A lot of people I have known are broken. So broken that they lash out so much and have so much anger and a lot of people get mad at them but...I really really don’t blame them. People’s lives are so hard and sometimes I want to help and fix it but I know now I can’t help everyone. I can’t fix everyone. No matter how much I try.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “I have run away from home....Over and over again.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “..I don’t want to talk about it.”

FRIENDS ► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ "No, I have gotten jealous but I can never hate people. I can never hate anyone.” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Maybe one day.” ► Who is your best friend ➔ “K---.....D---....I don’t, really really think I have a best friend yet. How do you know when someone is your best friend?” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “A really good friend of mine. Does that count as a best friend? His name is Ayanga and I have told him I think the most I’ve told out of everyone I know....Except my ex. My ex knows a lot of things about me.”

tagged by: @miden-rouge

tagging: @yzareenxiv @ala-mhinyan @aveis-the-red @gunnarsvard @talesfromthegameff14 @dunrai-ffxiv @merosmillionmains @meowmonk @gorgagne-viperidae @shadowburgers and anyone else that wants to really

#tag prompt #meme #character memes #ooc #about eigen #a drop in the ocean

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

On The Street Where You Live, Part 1

My laptop finally arrived! It got lost in the mail. Once I get electricity I can finally work on Ragnatela again. So this--and its next part--might be the last bonus chapters for a while.

I always thought that if Patience and Salvatore were younger--and met of their own accord--it would be quite different. Hell, extend that to Leonardo too.

***

Patience Winslow took the same route home every day, trudging down the gray street with her books in her arms, passing a cracked fire hydrant, an abandoned warehouse, a park with rusted and creaking equipment. The stream ran with green scum and sludge alongside the road in a drain.

She had no idea why her parents had decided to move from Greenhaven to stinking Garland City. She hated everything about it. She hated the school and the rude, rowdy city girls. She hated her bored, apathetic teachers. She hated the way she knew nobody. In Greenhaven, everyone had known her and her parents by name.

And most of all, she hated her slum of a neighborhood. There were union meetings next door. A drunk with dogs that never stopped barking on the other side. There were gunshots in the night and people speaking different languages and gangs of youths that loitered the street. 

One particular gang she hated with a passion. They were always standing outside of a butcher shop she passed, talking and smoking cigarettes. They always were dressed sloppily, with their shirts untucked. She suspected they were dagos, but she thought one sandy-headed boy might have been Polish or Irish.

The head boy, a black-haired youth, always yelled something dirty out to her. And always her. One day when she was crossing the street behind a group of other girls he had called out to her specifically, and the other girls had giggled and looked behind them at her.

Patience was approaching them now. Sure enough, there they were, one leaning against the wall, another holding a cigarette, and the head one spotted her.

She walked faster. 

"--skirt! Come over and give me a kiss," he yelled, and she bowed her head, flushing in shame. An old woman was across the street, surveying them closely with her lips pursed in disapproval. She was so focused on where she was going that she didn't notice when she tripped over the curb. Her knee erupted in pain.

The quietness of the street, and the loudness of his voice, stressed her and humiliated her. She struggled up and began walking again, and the shouts rang in her ears, and she covered her face with her hands and began running, tears bursting from her eyes.

"Oh, look at that! You made her cry!"

"You're a son-of-a-bitch, Sal."

She heard rapid pounds of footsteps, and someone grabbed her shoulder. She turned around to face the dark-haired boy, trying desperately to hide her face.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry." His voice was regretful and a little embarrassed.

"Go to hell," she said, trying not to tear up, but he took the back of her head and cleaned her tears with his sleeve. Close-up, he was very handsome, with thick black hair in a widow's peak and sharp, angular features.

The rest of his gang were around her now. "C'mon, tell the girl you're sorry," said the heavy one.

"I..." he looked discontented. "I always looked at you walking back from school and-- hey, you all! Get lost!" He barked at his friends.

"I kinda like you," he said under his breath once they were gone. "And I guess--I didn't know that you'd. Uh, react this way--but I really do like you."

Patience studied him through her tears. His big dark eyes and stark eyebrows and thin lips and that gangly frame halfway to becoming a man. She still felt like crying but the thought of someone liking her flattered her. "Do you go to William Weston High school? I think you're a few grades ahead of me."

"Yes'm. My name's Salvatore Mallozzi." He offered her his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

His hand was warm as she shook hers.

***

After that, he began giving her little tokens every time she walked by, instead of harassing her. He had pennies and handkerchiefs and even an ice cream cone sometimes. And she knew she should hate him--she still did, a little--and stay away from him, because he was the sort of boy you should stay away from, but she was impressed and flattered and fascinated by the attention the older boy heaped on her.

Patience arrived home one day, and Mommy was yelling at Daddy. His assignment wasn't ending soon enough, and Mommy wanted to go back to Greenhaven. Patience hated it when her parents yelled like that. She didn't go home, but ran off, her schoolbag thumping against her side.

When she came to the corner, the boys were still there, and she approached shyly. Black-haired Sal was holding a cigarette, and he smiled and motioned. "Come on, join the crowd."

Patience took one inhale, coughed, and resolved to never do it again. She passed the cigarette to the sandy-haired boy. "I don't think I ever got your name," said Sal.

"Patience. Patty."

"This is Thurston and Luca and Tony and Jacko." He indicated each member in turn. 

"Is this your... like, headquarters?"

"No. My dad owns this shop so he lets us hang around."

Standing by them, their casual conversation horrified and fascinated her. Robbing trucks. Making another rival member 'pay'. Her attraction couldn't compete with her disgust, and she eventually walked home. 

But her home still wasn't empty.

A strange black car was parked in the driveway, and unfamiliar voices filtered from the living room.

She poked her head in. Daddy was sitting on the couch, face pale. Opposite him she saw a hulking beast of a man, shoulders broad, and beside him a slimmer figure with golden hair.

"Patience, honey. Go play outside," said Daddy, his voice having a note of urgency that made her hackles rise.

The hulking man turned to fix his eyes on her, and her body paralyzed with fear. They were dead as the eyes of an animal, like eyes painted on a wall, completely blank. They made her freeze in place like a deer in the headlights.

He said something in a deep voice to the golden-haired boy, and the boy stood up. "Go on, go," said Daddy.

Patience was happy enough to leave the room, and the cold-eyed man. The blond boy tagged along, smiling congenially.

"What is your name?" He asked her as she sat on the stoop. "Mine is Leonardo. My father knows your father well."

He spoke with a heavy Italian accent she could tell he was trying desperately to shed. "Patience," she said.

"Pazienza. What a lovely name. Patience is a virtue."

"Yeah. It's a family name. One of my great-aunts or something was named Patience."

"Are you from around here?"

"No, Massachusetts. What about you?"

"Sicily. Scafapani. It's a beautiful little village near the coast, tucked away in the mountains. But I was born in Rome, the capital of Italy."

"That's pretty cool." Patience didn't really want to talk with him, but she kept getting drawn back. He was a very handsome boy, with thick, curling golden hair and red lips. His eyes were so blue, and with such long lashes, that she desperately envied him.

She heard a crash from inside, and leaped up. He caught her shoulder and forced her down. "You have very pretty eyes," he said, staring at her intently. "Green as the sea."

Leonardo really was very handsome. And well-dressed, in a waistcoat and a tie. The family was obviously well-off. His hand was warm, and he stroked her leg through her tights. "Thank you," she said, wanting to move her leg but feeling frozen.

The door swung open, and the dark-haired man exited, his heavy boots clomping on the ground. He sharply spoke a word in a different language to his son.

Leonardo stood up. "I will meet you again, Pazienza."

He followed his father to the car, and Patience watched them leave before she entered the house again.

The sitting room was a wreck. The coffee table was overturned, and papers were everywhere. Her father was dabbing his bleeding nose with his handkerchief. 

"Daddy! What happened?"

"Nothing, honey." He turned to her sharply. "Listen. If you're here alone, and someone knocks at the door, never answer it. Understood?"

She nodded blankly.

"Go tell your mom it's time to start dinner."

***

Patience studied her shopping list. Milk. Red beans. Flour. Beef. The deli had bene closed that day, so that was the one thing she couldn't find. Her mom was going to give her an earful--she wanted to make her famous meat pie for guests that were coming over, three of her dad's police coworkers.

As she walked home in the waning Saturday sun, she kept an eye out for when Salvatore and his gang loitered in front of that butcher shop, but they weren't there. They never were on weekends. An idea sparked in her mind. Hell, if she knew the guy, why didn't she just get her meat from his shop? For some reason her father and his friends never went there, preferring to go to the shop that was 2 miles away. It never made much sense to her. I mean, the paint was peeling and there were always shifty-looking people in and out of there, but that didn't mean they had bad meat.

Patience was a naturally inquisitive girl, so she stepped inside. It was warm and well-lit, with a large glass counter under which various sliced meats sat glistening. The menu was written in chalk on a blackboard nailed to the wall.

The benches and tables were all occupied by older, balding men in ratty-looking overcoats, who all looked over at her suspiciously.

A stocky man with a jowly face was shaving slices off a hamhock behind the counter. He looked up indifferently. "Hi," Patience said. "Can I, uh--"

At the sound of her voice, a familiar person stuck his head out of the door.

"Patience, is that you?" He said. 

"Yeah! Hi, Sal."

He was dressed in a blood-smeared butcher's apron and his hair was in disarray. He self-consciously smoothed it back, but that did nothing but make his hair sticky with blood. "What are you doing here?"

Patience smiled inwardly. She'd surprised him at his workplace and he was all embarrassed. "Well, the deli on Fashion Square was closed, so I decided to stop here instead. Guess you don't get too many girls here, huh?"

He laughed nervously. "Well, I guess, I mean, not too much. You look, uh, great."

Patience was wearing a plaid skirt, white knee-high socks and a blouse. "Thanks. I wish I could say the same about you."

"So, what are you looking for?"

"One pound of corned beef." As he began her order, she rested her elbows on the counter amd stared at him. "Hey, Sal? Do you know anyone called Leonardo? Blond, with curly hair?"

His face turned puce, and he cut into the slab of beef with more force than neccessary. "That little fuck. His daddy pays for him to go to St. Joseph's, that private Catholic school that costs an arm and a leg to get in. Tries to pretend his whole family ain't from the ass-end of Sicily. But people love him 'cause he's a good talker and has a nice manner. I hate that smarmy little douchebag." He stopped cutting for a moment. "Why? Do you know him?"

"Yeah, I met him." Patience studied him carefully. "He's real cute, you know."

"The Borghese boy?" said one of the men at the tables. "I always thought he was a fag."

Salvatore looked mortally offended. "He probably fuckin' is. You stay away from him, Patty. He's a two-faced little snake and always has been. Don't let him take advantage of you." He finished weighing her beef and wrapped it up. "Here you go."

Patience took out the rest of the money her mother had given here, but he pressed his hand over hers, closing her fist with the money inside. "Don't bother. This one's on the house." He smiled at her, that billion-dollar smile that made her heart thump. "Save it, get yourself a treat. Maybe at that Dairy Queen on the corner of 5th and 9th. How about I meet you there after school on Monday?"

She smiled back. "Sure. Sounds good. See you then."

As she left, a man walking in held the door for her. He was tall and handsome with slicked-back hair and dark glasses. "Thank you, sir," said Patience.

"Anytime, sweetie." He let the door swing shut behind him. As soon as Sal spotted the man, he stood ramrod straight. "Boss Malone!"

"Heeey, Sal. Thought I'd drop by to see how our 'project' was doing. Got yourself a girl now, haven't you?" He ruffled Sal's hair and grabbed him in a half-hug with his arm around his neck. The younger boy guffawed bashfully.

"Son, do you know who that girl is?" Malone's voice became serious.

"Patience, right? She lives just around the corner."

"That's Patience Winslow, I've seen her around before. She's the daughter of Richard Winslow." 

Realization dawned on Salvatore's face. "THAT Richard Winslow?"

"Yeah. Him. So be careful, okay? I know you're just kids fooling around. But don't let yourself get... carried away or nothin'." 

"I won't, boss." 

Malone nodded to the door that led to the back of the butcher shop. "So. Let's see how our 'project' is goin, yeah?"

In a back room, among slabs of frozen pork and sausage, was a man tied to a chair. His ears, nose, and eyes were cut out, crystallized trickles of blood frozen down his face and neck.

"Cocksucker still ain't tellin us anything, is he?"

"I've been working on him all day, Bats. Nothin." Salvatore crossed his arms, blood-stained cleaver in hand.

Malone took the cleaver from him, threw it up in the air and caught it by the handle. "Let this be a learning experience, Sal. Watch closely..."

***

The date had gone well, and Salvatore had been nice enough to walk her home after the fact. She had bid him goodbye on the street beyond where she lived so her mom and dad didn't have to see him. He wasn't the sort of boy her Daddy would have been enthused to see her bring home.

Her heart was in her throat as she walked up to her door. She was noticing all sorts of things about him now, the sharp widow's peak on his forehead, how big and black his eyes were, how tall he was, so tall he had to stoop down to kiss her.

Her mind was so focused on the kissing that she didn't notice they had company until she saw the figure sitting in the living room.

"Ciao, Pazienza." Leonardo put down his teacup delicately. 

"Whatcha doin' here, Leonardo?"

"He wants to talk with your daddy. Richard should be getting back in half an hour." Marilyn was red in the face, and her skirt was untucked. Patience collapsed on the floral print sofa next to Leonardo and tool her shoes off. "Did you just make these, Mommy?"

"Leonardo brought them by. He's a very good cook."

She bit into one. Peanut butter. They were indeed surprisingly good. "Where'd you learn to cook like this? Do you have home ec at your school?"

Leonardo chuckled. "Not at St. Joseph's, though I'd love to take home ec. I do all the cooking for my father, always have."

"That's weird." The thought of doing all her cooking for her dad was bizarre. 

"You should stay, Leo. Help us make dinner," said Mommy.

"Alas. I'm afraid I am expected home just after I talk with Mr. Winslow."

The door swung open, and she heard her father's footsteps. As soon as he entered the living room and saw Leonardo his face froze. "Both of you, get out."

Patience left, her quarrelling mother close behind. She was peeling potatoes on the table when Leonardo finally emerged, and he paused next to her on his way out the door.  "You should come over to my house for dinner sometime," he said softly. "I'll show you how good my cooking is."

She smiled. "I might take you up on that sometime."

He put his hand on her shoulder and let it slide off slowly, fingers trailing over her skin, then left like a breeze through the front door.

"He's very nice, isn't he?" Sighed Marilyn, dunking the potatoes in a pot of hot water. "He doesn't look like a dago at all. In fact, he looks very white."

"Italians can look like anything, Mom. They were Romans and stuff, remember? I learned it in World History."

"I suppose so. I don't know what the Borgheses and Richard have against each other. I wish the boy would come and visit more often."

***

"Junior Prom is comin' up."

Patience stirred her sundae, watching the caramel and ice cream swirl together. "Is it? Are you going?"

"Well, I never went to prom before. Thought it was kinda gay, you know. But... uh, I was wondering if... maybe this year, you'd like to go with me."

She stopped stirring and looked up at him, stars in her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "And maybe, if everything works out... we can go next year, as well."

Patience tossed her arms around his narrow shoulders and kissed him passionately. His lips parted under hers, and she tasted cigarettes.

"I'd love to! Oh, Salvatore! Oh my gosh! I have to get a dress..."

***

Salvatore walked her home as he usually did, arm in arm, and since it was getting dark, they took a shortcut down an alley she didn't recognize.

They emerged onto a dimly lit street with weeds growing through the cracks of the sidewalk. Some of the houses were boarded up.

The street was empty but for a kid wearing a leather jacket leaning against the wall of a building. Smoke spiralled from the cigarette he held in his hand. When he saw the two of them, he threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. "What the fuck are you doing here, greaser?" He snarled. "This is Bulldogs territory."

Sal eyed him coldly. "Calm the fuck down, Sam. I'm just escorting my girlfriend home."

"Well, escort her home some other way. Your kind isn't allowed around here."

"I will go wherever the fuck I want, you mick asshole."

"What did you call me? You ain't so tough without your little gang, you guinea cocksucker. Come over here!"

Salvatore's arm was tense in hers. "I ain't gonna cause a scene in front of my girl, otherwise I woulda beaten your red head in until it looked like a fucking pile of meat. Back off."

"Maybe you should leave your girl here so I can take her home." Sam leered at her, and her hackles rose. "Leave me alone!"

Salvatore let go of her arm and threw a punch so rapid that the boy barely had time to blink before his fist crunched into his face.

Sam stumbled back, hands going up to cover his face. Blood burst through his fingers.

Salvatore caught him with a right hook, but he was ready with a left hook. 

The thuds of muscle and bone were the only sound on that quiet street. Patient stood there, frozen, wanting to flee, wanting to scream, but able to do nothing but watch them. Salvatore twisted a an arm around his enemy and threw him to the ground. 

His nose was bleeding and his eyes were as black as coal. And he grabbed the boy's arm and dragged him over to the curb, and threw his head on top of the concrete edge. 

And Sal kicked him so hard that the crack echoed through the night. Patience was screaming by then, frightened and shrill, and when she couldn't take it anymore she ran back through the alleyway she came in.

Sal ran to catch up, grabbing her shoulder. "What the fuck are you doing? You won't get home if you take this route! Come on--"

Patience yanked her shoulder out of his grip. "What is wrong with you?" She screamed. "Is that boy going to be okay?"

"Who cares?" He looked confused. "He's just some Irish prick. He started it."

She turned and tried to walk away, but his grip on her arm was iron.

"Listen." He gripped her face between his hands. "If anyone hits on my girl, I'll make them suffer. Doesn't matter who they are. You're mine, Patience. And you better remember it."

The harsh tone of his voice made her heart thud, and she pulled out of his grip and headed into the darkness. She knew he was standing there, watching her even if he didn't follow, and his gaze haunted her the whole way back, through her mother's screams and curses and her father's admonishments.

#bonus chapter