#like ‘am i missing a meeting? open audience?’ and everyone murmurs ‘no my lady’ and merlin winks at her and says ‘we all gather here every

[merlinemrys]

sometimes u just have to think about how gwen is thee it girl in camelot 😌 favoured heavily by morgana, courted by arthur and then became queen (not to mention that arthur was willing to forsake his entire kingdom just to be with her), lancelot loved her at first sight and he carried that flame of his affection until he died, gwaine stopped in the middle of the street to flirt with her, leon basically goes and shoots his shot while arthur’s dying, merlin’s willing to disguise himself AND die for her at any turn… nobody does it like thee babygirl ever <3

#shows #bbc merlin #guinevere pendragon #gwen #text #tais toi lys #i NEED to make more everybody loves gwen fics #ONE ISNT ENOUGH #merlin needs to head like a Gwen Love Club (open to the public) and u get the usual suspects (arthur/lancelot/gwaine/leon/morgana) but then #u just get a SLEW of random citizens of camelot who barge in and they all speak very earnestly abt gwen #and one day gwen pops in and sees this odd group and when arthur comes to kiss her hello (they all STARE AT HIM WITH ENVY) and she’s just #like ‘am i missing a meeting? open audience?’ and everyone murmurs ‘no my lady’ and merlin winks at her and says ‘we all gather here every #week to discuss our love for you of course.’ and bc it’s MERLIN and he looks like he’s JOKING gwen just rolls her eyes and takes her leave #arthur then turns to merlin as is like ‘HOW DID YOU DO THAT?’ and merlin shrugs ‘she doesn’t take compliments like that very well it’s easy #for her to think we’re kidding than actually contemplating the idea that i may be telling the truth!’ #*

[helaintoloki]

Meet the Family

pairing: Pietro Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

warnings: angst, manipulation, reader is a Westview hostage controlled by Wanda, etc., 2.5k in length

notes: writing a piece that takes place in the WandaVision universe was such a challenging and fun experience, and I really tried to capture the same dark undertones of the show so I hope you enjoy!

summary: An innocent family dinner with Pietro’s new girlfriend reveals that life in Westview is not what it seems. Uncle Pietro introduces y/n to the family!

Y/n almost feels like she’s being watched as the warm hand of her boyfriend— since when do I have a boyfriend?— carefully guides her trembling figure up the front steps of his sister’s house and rings the doorbell. Her grip on the glass dish of brownies in her hands is so impossibly tight she fears she might just break it, and when the silver haired man swoops down to steal a kiss from her cherry gloss stained lips she can’t help but to feel nauseated. The sickness morphs into guilt immediately, and when he looks down upon her with a gaze so tender and fond she forces herself to bat her eyes and smile at him. What kind of girlfriend is horrible enough to be disgusted by a kiss from her own boyfriend? Something isn’t right here...

“Don’t even sweat it, babe, my little sis is going to love you!” Pietro comforts with an easygoing grin plastered on his features.

“I hope so,” y/n murmurs quietly, nervously chewing at her bottom lip. This is the audition, her one shot at impressing the boss, and if even one tiny minuscule detail is thrown out of place then there goes her new house and fancy wardrobe and y/n is written out of the show. Permanently.

“My girlfriend is such a worrywart,” he laughs fondly with a gentle pinch of her cheek. It’s as if a switch is flipped inside of her, and this time when she smiles at him it is genuine and full of unadulterated love.

“I just want everything to be perfect, I know how much this means to you,” she replies earnestly, too dazed to notice the soft aww that drifts through the air from the audience. Pietro smiles.

“Man, did I luck out on finding the most perfect girl in the world or what?”

“Well us being together certainly isn’t a coincidence,” she notes with a small smile. The uneasiness begins to wash over her again, but y/n isn’t given a chance to dwell on the feeling as the front door swings open and a vibrant looking young woman stands in the doorway, almost beaming at the two with pure glee.

“Thank goodness you made it!” She exclaims, hand delicately resting on her chest to showcase her relief before she pulls the stranger her brother into a hug.

“Like we’d really miss Sunday dinner,” Pietro jokes before pressing a chaste kiss to his sister’s cheek. His hand returns to the small of y/n’s back and the fond smile pulls at his lips again. “Wanda, I’d like to introduce you to a very special little lady, my girlfriend y/n.”

“Oh, she’s very special indeed,” Wanda notes with an overzealous wink, ignoring the way in which the brownie dish begins to tremble in the poor girl’s hands. Just a little stage fright, that’s all. “It’s very nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Wanda.”

“It’s an honor to meet you,” the girl replies earnestly, “Pietro has told me so much about you.”

“Well aren’t you sweet! Please, come in,” Wanda grins, ushering the two inside before shutting the door. “Boys, Uncle Pietro is here!”

“What a lovely place you have,” y/n compliments. Her eyes scan the perfectly decorated home in wonder, awe, and a third thing she can’t quite place for if she dwells on it for too long her head begins to ache and her surroundings begin to grow fuzzy.

“Oh, please, it’s just a little something I threw together,” she jokes, canned laughter echoing distantly in the background of y/n’s mind.

“Uncle Pietro!” Two voices exclaim, and y/n watches curiously as her boyfriend lets out an ecstatic laugh before rushing forward to scoop the twin boys in his arms.

“If it isn’t my favorite little trouble makers!” He grins, making sure to ruffle both heads of hair. “Billy, Tommy, say hi to your aunt y/n.”

“Hi, aunt y/n,” Billy greets politely. Tommy is at her side in an instant, movements so quick y/n can’t help but to let out a startled yelp as he lunges for the dish in her hands.

“Are those brownies?!”

“Tommy, where are your manners?” Wanda chides gently, shaking her head with a laugh and reaching for the pastries. “Boys will be boys. I’ll take these off your hands.”

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you...” y/n murmurs softly, brows stitched together in discomfort.

“You’ll have to excuse my husband’s absence, another late night at the office. You know how it is, don’t you?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“Hmm... Well, make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon, I’ll just go put these in the kitchen.”

“Oh, do you need any h-“

“No,” Wanda blurts out abruptly, startling everyone in the room. She plasters on a smile, “No thank you. How can I be a good hostess if my guest is doing all the work for me?”

“You’re right, I’m so sorry,” y/n flounders, panic clear amongst her features. “I-I didn’t mean to impose at all.”

“No apologies,” the woman murmurs quietly, a small smile on her lips and an admonitory glimmer in her eyes, “we’re going to have a nice family dinner, and everything is going to be just perfect.”

The tension in the air is suffocating, wrapping itself in a slow growing hold around y/n’s neck. Her eyes begin to water, bottom lip quivering in fear as she looks around the room that suddenly feels too big and too bright. She doesn’t belong here with these people, something is wrong, the man she came here with is not hers, and as Wanda’s figure retreats behind the kitchen door y/n makes a mad dash towards the nearest exit.

“Whoa!” Pietro exclaims with an uneasy laugh, and in a blue flash she suddenly finds herself being scooped up off her feet and tossed back down on the couch in between the apprehensive twins faster than her fried brain can even comprehend. “Not so fast there, missy. Just where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I don’t feel right,” the young woman murmurs, wincing at the uncomfortable dryness of her throat as she swallows. “I want to go home and lie down.”

“Don’t be like that, babe,” he chides with a disappointed frown, “this is my family.”

“But what about my family?” Y/n whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she realizes that whenever she attempts to picture the life she once lived not a single thing comes to mind. “I don’t have a family.”

“This is your family now. We talked about this, remember? We came to Westview to make Wanda happy, and you don’t want to upset her, do you?”

“No,” she replies meekly, shuddering when the calloused pad of his thumb swipes across her warm cheek to remove any evidence of tears. No, I don’t want to make her unhappy, because if I do then I’m written off the show and I don’t know what will happen to me if I am. “I want to spend time with my new family.”

“Atta girl,” Pietro grins as he cups her face with both hands and brings her in for a kiss.

“Yuck!” Tommy exclaims in disgust from beside the couple, and this time y/n can’t help the bubbly laughter that escapes her at the young boy’s antics. Any memory of her previous meltdown is quickly wiped from her mind, and all she can think of now is how utterly grateful she is to be loved by such a wonderful man and be taken in by his wonderful family.

She pulls Pietro in for another kiss and giggles uncontrollably when he responds by tickling her sides, all while Wanda watches carefully from behind the scenes.

~~~

“Dream of better lives, the kind which never hate. Trapped in a state of imaginary grace.”

Her voice is quiet and serene as she hums along to the Modern English song playing on the radio, a content smile on her face as she washes the dishes leftover from dinner. It was the least she could do after the lovely evening Wanda had hosted; her sister-in-law had been called upon by the neighbor Agnes for a task that hadn’t quite been specified, so y/n was happy to tidy up while her boyfriend spent quality time with the boys. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt as happy and content as she did now— she couldn’t remember anything, really— and y/n knew then and there that moving to Westview with Pietro had been the right decision for the family, for his sister and themselves, and for the children, too. Yes, everything was just peachy keen.

The kitchen door swings open and in walks a man y/n has never seen before. He looks just as surprised as she is when their eyes meet, an awkward smile on his red face and the morning paper in his hands, and y/n slowly drops the dish she had been washing back into the sink.

“Hello,” the man greets curtly, “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.”

“I’m afraid not,” y/n agrees with a bashful smile, quickly removing her rubber gloves so that she may extend her hand towards him for a shake, “I’m y/n, Pietro’s girlfriend.”

“Ah, yes...” he murmurs lowly, cautiously shaking her hand and sizing the woman up and down until she shrinks under his gaze. He means her no harm, but he isn’t sure whether or not she’s part of this cooky little play or just another victim cast under Wanda’s spell. He smiles suddenly, the gesture startling the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Vision.”

“Oh, yes! Of course. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“May I ask where my wife is?” Vision asks.

“She went off to the neighbor’s,” y/n explains before promptly returning to her dish washing. The radio sounds distant and warbled now, the song she had been singing along to now nothing but static and jumbled up syllables, but to Vision’s dismay she doesn’t seem to notice in the slightest.

“How are you enjoying Westview?”

“I’m having the best time. Pietro and I have been talking and we might just have to hunker down in our own little place,” she says with a giggle. “It would be nice to be closer to you all.”

“I must say, having you and Pietro here was quite the surprise.”

“Not a bad one I hope,” she frowns. Vision guiltily refuses to meet her gaze.

“No, not at all. But, might I ask how you two came to be?” Vision asks apprehensively, adding on so that she doesn’t feel cornered, “I’m sure it must be a lovely story.”

“Oh, yes! I remember it like it was yesterday,” y/n swoons dreamily, a fond smile plastered on her face and her gaze casted out towards the living room where Pietro sits playing video games with the boys. She blinks once, twice, eyes never once leaving the silver haired stranger in the couch. A pregnant pause hovers over the two, the porcelain plate trembles in her hands, and Vision watches in silent horror as her eyes begin to well with tears.

“Y/n?” He calls gently, fingertips carefully brushing against her elbow in an attempt to bring her focus back to him. He removes the plate from her iron grip and sets it back carefully in the sink before turning the girl by the shoulders to face him; she still wears that same adoring smile despite the tears that silently fall down her cheeks.

“Forgive me,” she murmurs quietly, “I can’t seem to gather my thoughts properly.”

“Who did this to you? Was it Wanda? Pietro?” Vision press urgently. Y/n sways slightly when he shakes her by the shoulders in a desperate attempt to break her from her trance but still her smile remains.

“Pietro? Oh, he loves me, and I love him.”

“My dear, I don’t think you do,” the man utters sympathetically.

“Of course I do, silly. We were made for each other.”

“Perhaps you were, but not in the way you think. Y/n-“

“Please let go,” she interrupts in a soft, steady voice, looking up at him like a scorned child, “you’re scaring me.”

“If you would just let me,” Vision begins to say, fingertips reaching for her temple in preparation to break her from the spell only to be interrupted by another presence in the room.

“Whoa, what’s going on in here?” Pietro asks with a raised brow and uneasy laugh. “Hey toaster oven, you mind maybe letting go of my girlfriend?”

“Of course, my apologies,” Vision murmurs, stepping away from the girl and allowing her to run into the arms of her boyfriend.

“You okay, babe?” He asks with a raised brow. She isn’t, not in the slightest, but she has a job to do and a role to play, so she merely bats her eyes at him before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Never been better. Hey, how does dessert sound?”

“I think that sounds lovely,” Wanda chimes, her sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway startling the already present trio. Vision looks like a deer caught in headlights when Wanda saunters over and gifts him with an innocent kiss to the cheek. “Why don’t you and Pietro get the boys settled down while y/n and I prepare the dessert?”

“What a lovely idea, darling,” Vision chimes with an easy smile— y/n isn’t the only one with a role to play. “Come now, dear brother-in-law.”

“Take good care of my girl, little sis,” Pietro calls on his way out. Wanda smiles, her eyes never once leaving y/n’s trembling frame.

“But of course. What is family for? Y/n, be a dear and grab the plates, won’t you?”

“Yes, Wanda,” the girl chimes obediently. She smiles.

“I noticed you seemed a little shaken up just now, is everything alright?” Wanda asks, feigning obliviousness.

“Oh, you know, just some friendly questioning from my new brother-in-law. I’m sure he just wanted to make sure Pietro had found the right match,” she explains with a passive wave of her hand. Wanda hums softly.

“Well we don’t need to worry about that,” she notes. “You’re here for a reason, y/n. Do you know that?”

“For Pietro, and for you,” she replies earnestly, smiling when Wanda takes her hands in her own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “You’ve always wanted a big family, a real family, one that would never turn its back on you or leave you behind ever again. You want a sister and nieces and nephews and love, and I’m here because I can do all of that and more for you.”

“Exactly right. Family is forever, y/n. Are you ready for the commitment that comes with being a Maximoff?”

“I’ve never been more ready,” y/n responds eagerly. Wanda smiles.

“I’m so relieved you said that,” she utters gently, pulling y/n in for a hug so that she may not see the way in which her eyes begin to glow red and waves of energy begin to emit from her fingertips as she carefully settles herself fully into the girl’s mind. She fills her head with thoughts of Pietro and family, with memories she’s never lived and feelings she’s never had, she fills her with love, and y/n is none the wiser.

“Congratulations, y/n,” Wanda utters quietly, comfortingly stroking the girl’s hair, “you’re a Maximoff now.”

#wandavision spoilers #wandavision #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagine #wanda maximoff #vision #wanda maximoff x reader #vision x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine

[phoenix-manga]

The Real Idols at VDC

Everyone was excited for the VDC, people who work in the media gathered at the purple stage venue to get a shot of two of the most popular models in Twisted Wonderland. The blonde -haired young man known for his beautiful yet professional attitude, Vil Schoenheit, and the black-haired boy with an adorable face that was rising in the ranks, Neige Leblanche.

The VDC was a one in a million for fans of both males, they were waiting to see what they will bring to the stage. The media only focused on those two, leaving the other participants in the shadows.

But maybe that’s a good thing, this way NRC and RSA will get the shock of their lives when certain students from an academy far off in the mountains would come and steal the spotlight from both of them.

A young lady with dark blue hair, tied in side ponytail with a feathered-crown, wearing a red, blue and yellow uniform was walking to the venue for rehearsals alongside another girl with short pinkish hair, she wore a ribbon with a crown on her head and wore a teal and dark green uniform. From around them, she kept hearing people gushing about who was going to win between Neige and Vil. With a frustrated sigh she looks at the colosseum with a look of mild annoyance.

Evonie: NRC and RSA really sure do love hogging the spotlight… I can barely remember the names of the other schools competing!

But I guess that’s just the reality of media… even though our school is a pro at these contests, people didn’t even mention DCA at all…

Allison: You sure are getting pumped up for the championship, aren’t yah Ev? Chill out, it’s not like it’s any different from our usual idol concerts at campus

It was an attempt at cooling down her dark-haired companion but it just made her more determined. As a student who was known for singing and dancing, it was expected for them to be kind of miffed if the people forget their school. But in Evonie’s case, being someone who held a seat as a top idol in DCA might have been a good reason.

The two reach the venue and shows a staff their stage pass, Allison can faintly hear the music from the person currently rehearsing. Everyone backstage was busy hyping themselves up for the competition, the sight alone sparks the Evonie’s competitive spirit.

She’ll make sure that the audience will know who the stage truly belongs to. When the person’s performance ended, a staff called their school, signaling that it was their turn to go on stage. Allison follows Evonie as they go towards the open stage onto an eager crowd.

Announcer: Next performer from Diamond Crown Academy, please enter the stage

Student A: Diamond Crown Academy?... That’s the all-girls school, right?

Student B: I know that school! That school is famous for the idol competitions on and off campus!

Student C: My sister was obsessed with one of the students of that school!

Student D: How could you not know DCA? They had a joint school festival for RSA and NRC! I was there!

The crowd was filled with murmurs and eventually they reached the ears of the NRC team. The first years held confused looks while their seniors were used to the murmuring around them, as if it was normal. From the looks of it, they seem to recognize one of the girls, Vil and Rook that is. Epel piped up and asked Rook what was the fuss all about.

Rook: DCA is an all-girls academy, although not as famous as RSA and NRC, they have an excellent reputation. The one thing that they’re famous for is their idol competitions… and it looks like we will be able to witness a spectacular show

I especially can’t wait to see how princess de pommes and lapin fougueux perform~ Her gaze carries an eternal fire, beaute!

Deuce: I haven’t heard of DCA… this is my first time hearing about them

Jamil: You freshmen only know about NRC and RSA… of course you wouldn’t know about that school…

Kalim: We know someone from that school! She’s a prin-

Jamil: You’re gonna start babbling, so shut it…

Ace: Are they really that good? Seems too good to be true, no one has said anything about DCA until now

Vil: Such uncultured potatoes, you don’t understand the standards of that academy… A variety of educational fields as well as the idol training is the hot topic amongst the girls back in Pyroxene. Although we are focused on taking down RSA’s representative, don’t underestimate them either

And the reason why we haven’t heard anything is because the audience was too busy talking about the battle between NRC and RSA, but there have been mentions of DCA in magicam.

Ace: I-Is that so?...

Rook: You’ll understand once you find out for yourself!

Vil isn’t one to give empty praises, they now know that DCA is something to consider. The first years decided to look to the stage, they will see what Vil meant when the students of DCA don’t joke around when it comes to contests like the VDC.

Announcer: Representative of Diamond Crown Academy will be performing an original song… Eternally Flickering Flame, please begin rehearsal!

The music started off with a loud blast of rock followed by a gothic symphony that captured everyone’s attention, Evonie sings the first lyrics with a loud yet harmonic tune, her movements are graceful with a hint of aggression.

When it was Allison’s turn to sing, she sang with so much energy and her dance, although not as graceful, was very cheerful and all over the place that made some of the people watching tap to the rhythm.

At the two of them were synchronized in their dance and their voices, although were a contrast, created a pleasing harmony. The first years were watching with wide-eyes, no wonder Vil said that they were not to be underestimated. They thought back to their strict training during the past weeks and they wondered how hard these girls trained to be able to give this performance.

It was already hard to sing and dance, but putting magic into the mix? That’s a new level of intensity.

Epel: I… can’t look away!

Deuce: They’re casting magic?! Usually, its at the end of the performance, but here they’re using it throughout the song!

Rook: You are yet to see the main event, mon ami~

At the climax of the song, Evonie and Allison’s rings glowed red and light blue as an orb of light went up the sky and a burst of magic created an illusion of a gloomy forest with black rabbits and flying bats around a silhouette of a crescent moon.

When a chime of a clock was heard, the illusion shatters the moon and it dissolves into the scenery to turn the dark colors of the forest into a red background of crystals and gemstones with black thorns growing from the ground.

They finish the song with a pose with the illusion around them creating an outstanding finish.

The crowd didn’t expect the use of magic to create effects, but it was mesmerizing to look at, all eyes were on them, faces in awe and mouths agape. When their performance ended and the illusion faded, a loud applause fills the venue as students cheered.

TV Staff: That performance gave me goosebumps!

Audience: Seems like DCA is going all out today, huh?

I thought the other performances were good but damn, DCA goes all out!

They’d win for sure!

Neige and Vil will be performing too, but I can’t help but admire DCA’s performance!

Evonie felt proud for some of the comments she hears as her and Allison exit the stage. As soon as every participant was done with rehearsals, the two decided to head to the food booth for a light snack before the performance. Evonie was quietly assessing the choices and thinking deeply on which would be better to eat and won’t make her feel like throwing up when she performs, while Allison was chewing on a chocolate bar.

Evonie was unaware of a small presence behind her until something grabbed her hand, she was startled by the sudden touch and looked to her side only to see one of the dwarves from the rehearsals. “Toby” was what his name was, looking at her with his goofy grin and asymmetric, purple hair.

Toby: Miss Evonie! Timmy is a huge fan of yours, and so am I! The flashy magic you put on stage was super cool!”

Timmy: T-Toby! Don’t rush at her like th-that! And why’d you have to tell her that I’m a fan?! So, embarrassing!!!!

Evonie was frozen, not in fear but in restraint. The dwarves were so cute and she was tempted to pick them up and hold them close to her like a plush. But that would be rude because they’re college students and they are NOT children even if they look like one. Allison was snickering and greeted the dwarves too.

Allison: Aww, Ev, you got a fan!

Evonie: I-I… uhh!

Toby still held her hand and was looking up at her with his doe eyes, it took almost all of her self-restraint to act professional with the dwarf.

Evonie: I-it’s an honor that you like my performances, I am thankful!

Toby: I’ve seen you in that one play about the six queens too! You looked so pretty! Do you wanna come with us to see our other friends? Dominic and the others saw your work too, oh but Gran is not into idols that much…

Timmy: T-Toby! We shouldn’t impose on her and besides, w-we need to stick together! M-Miss Evonie, it was nice meeting you but we need to leave!

Timmy grabs ahold of Toby who was pouting along the way as the two scampered off into the crowd, leaving Evonie behind. Evonie takes a deep breath while Allison looks at the crowd before facing her.

Allison: I don’t see any of my fans… boohoo, quit stealing all my potential fan members!

Evonie: If you had been taking the time to actually participate in SOME venues then you might have had one…

Allison: It isn’t my fault most of the performances they want is girly!

While they were bickering, they don’t notice a grim fight against an overblotted dorm leader was taking place in the colosseum.

[END]

#phnx #dca stories #dca #diamond crown academy #twst oc #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #ace trappola #deuce spade #jamil viper #kalim al asim #epel felmier #toby #timmy #rsa #royal sword academy

[440mxs-wife]

The Hunter’s Princess - Chapter 9: Matters of the Heart

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira, Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 9 Word Count: 3020+

Warnings: This is going to be a bit angsty still. Show-level violence, Prince!Dean being kind of a jerk

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

A/N2: I would like to thank everyone for your support and your comments so far. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am having fun writing it.

Thank you and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean wandered through the bunker to the library. He sat down at the table and opened one of the lore books belonging to Kira's parents, absently flipping through it. It's all in Gabriel's hands now, he thought. Hopefully he got through and delivered his message. I need a sign, though, something to tell me this is going to work and that I'll get to see my Kira again, Dean pleaded.

With a yawn, he relaxed in the chair, leaning forward onto the table. Dean folded his arms and rested his head in the crook of his right elbow then closed his eyes. It wasn't long before his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In her room at the castle, Kira assembled the ingredients in the bowl as instructed by Gabriel. She took one of her knives and slashed across her palm, letting a few drops of her blood mix with the contents of the bowl. Kira then threw a match into the bowl, igniting the ingredients and as they burned, she invoked the spell. "Somnium Lucem, Somnium Noctis. Nuntius Mea Cor Tuum," she chanted. ("Dream Light, Dream Night, Message from My Heart to Yours")

"Dean? Dean, please wake up, it's me, Kira," she pleaded.

"Kira? Where are you, sweetheart?" Dean mumbled, eyes still closed.

"I'm coming to you through your dream, but I don't have much time. Gabriel got through to us over here, and we're getting everything ready to come home," Kira remarked.

Dean sat upright, fully awake now. "Baby? Where are you? Why can't I see you? Please, I'm so lost without you," he said, frantically looking around the library, desperate to see his sweet love.

"I know my love, let me try something," she replied. Kira closed her eyes and concentrated on Dean.

Suddenly, a glowing figure appeared behind Dean's chair in the library. It slowly came into focus to reveal his Kira, the one his heart longed for. "Oh, sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He reached out his hand, as did Kira, but they passed through one another.

"Hello, Dean," Kira whispered back, smiling, but with her own tears threatening to fall. "I'm so sorry to be so far away from you, my love, but we'll be together again soon," she promised.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I miss you so much," he murmured. His voice was thick with emotion and tears were silently tracking down his face.

Kira reached out to try and wipe them away, but her hand still passed right through. "I wish I could be there to dry your tears. Just remember, no matter what happens, you are always in my heart and I love you," she said as she gave him a watery smile.

"I love you too. Please be careful where you are, darlin'. We need you back here," Dean reminded her.

"I know, Dean, I will. You be careful too. Lucifer's here, and he said he has demons watching you and Sam," she explained as her image started to fluctuate. "I'm sorry, I have to go, now, my love. Be home soon," Kira's voice faded along with her glowing figure until there was nothing left but the silence.

"Oh, my Kira......" Dean whispered, finally breaking down.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rowena wandered through the courtyard, where she saw Lady Serena surrounded by the other competitors and some of her admirers. As tempting as it was to cast a harmless but embarrassing spell on her, Rowena resisted and instead listened to their conversation.

Lady Serena mentioned that the princes and Castiel had ridden on  horseback out to a nearby Eastern province. They were sent to  investigate an animal attack. Rowena had been with the Winchesters long  enough to know that 'animal attack' is code for 'werewolf'.

As she walked past the stables on her way back to Kira's room, Rowena overheard a stable hand speaking to Collins. The man had heard about the animal attack in  the Eastern province. He said it may be worse than originally thought, and he was worried for his family in that area. Collins assured the man that help was on its way, not to worry and to please tend to his   duties.

Collins noticed Rowena as she walked by and hurried over to her.  "Begging your pardon, Lady Rowena, but have you seen Lady Kira?" he  asked.

"Last I saw, she was in her room, not feeling well. She and Prince Dean had a bit of a....falling out, you might say," Rowena explained.

Collins looked away, shook his head and mumbled something under his breath about Prince Dean being a damned fool, then he returned his attention to Rowena. "If you see her, please tell her that Prince Dean is in trouble, and that her weapons skills could be very useful," he  pleaded.

Rowena laid a hand on his arm to reassure him that she would take care of everything and not to worry. He promised that Kira's horse, Midnight, would be saddled and waiting for her when she was ready.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rowena hurried up to Kira's room to explain the situation, meeting Sarah on the way. When they opened the door, Rowena noticed the altar and smelled the burnt remnants of the spell cast by Kira. They also saw Kira laying on the floor, nearly passed out from exhaustion. "And just what have you been up to, young lady?" Rowena demanded.

Kira lazily turned her head as best as she could to look Rowena in the eye. "Gabriel told me how to communicate with Dean through his dreams," she replied. A faraway smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And I saw him, Rowena, I did it. I told Dean we got the message, and that we'd be home soon. I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me too," she finished, then seemed to lose consciousness.

"Och, darlin' this is the absolute worst time for you to be out of commission! The princes and Castiel have caught word of an 'animal attack' in the Eastern province. It's a few hours' ride from here, but the problem is bigger than was originally reported. You know what they're up against, dearie, and they're going to need your help, so please wake up," Rowena pleaded.

Kira's energy had not quite returned from the effects of the dream communication spell, so Rowena's words had no effect. Rowena knew how critical the situation was with the princes and Castiel, so she had no choice but to use her magic. Her eyes glowed purple as she channeled her energy and her words into returning Kira to her normal, rested state.

A wave of energy seemed to wash through Kira and she was instantly awake and sitting upright. "Whoa, whoa, I'm up! No more zapping required. Gabriel said that the spell would take a lot out of me. I guess I wasn't prepared for just how much it would take out of me. Thank you, though," Kira said to Rowena.

"You're welcome my dear, but perhaps in future, you may want to leave the spellwork to the experts? No more dabbling," Rowena gently chided.

"Yes, ma'am. Absolutely. No more dabbling," she promised then stood up. "I have to get dressed more appropriately if I'm going after the princes and Castiel," Kira replied. She wasted no time in changing out of her day dress. She pulled on her tunic, a pair of leggings and her boots, similar to what she wore for the weapons competition.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Miss? It sounds rather dangerous, and you have your audience with the king and queen in 20 minutes!" Sarah exclaimed.

Kira put her hands on Sarah's arms and looked her straight in the eye. "Sarah, yes, I know that this will be dangerous, but it's nothing I haven't faced before. And regardless of what happened between Prince Dean and me, I can't turn my back on him or anyone else in trouble.

"The audience with the king and queen can wait. Or not, I don't really care about anything except getting the princes and Castiel back, safe and sound. What happens to me afterwards is irrelevant," she muttered as she tied her bag closed and headed for the stables.

"Don't forget this," Rowena handed Kira the locket. "Collins assured me that Midnight would be saddled and waiting for you," she explained.

"Thank you, Rowena," Kira replied. She fastened the clasp on her necklace and tucked it into her tunic. "I'll be  back as soon as I can. If the king and queen somehow get wind of what's going on, please let them know that the situation is well in hand," Kira  asked.

Rowena nodded and said she would explain the situation, should the opportunity arise. She mumbled a protection spell, then kissed Kira's forehead to complete the process. Then Kira and Midnight rode off into the waning hours before nightfall to assist the princes and Castiel.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Collins told the princes about a werewolf attack in one of the Eastern provinces, one not far from the castle. The report said only two  or three werewolves, which they had tracked to an abandoned barn. The men decided to hide in the bushes and keep watch to see what they were up against.

While they waited, Samuel decided now was as good a time as any to try and fix things between his brother and Lady Kira. "Hey, Dean? What happened between you and Lady Kira?" he asked.

Dean looked at Sam. "Seriously? You want to do this now?!?" he said incredulously.

"I just want to know. I mean, one minute, you're spending every  waking moment together. The next thing I see you arm-in-arm with Lady Serena. Who is a bit arrogant, in my opinion," Samuel added.

"I'm afraid I'm with Prince Samuel, Your Highness. You and Lady Kira  seem so well-suited for each other, and I've never seen you so happy as when you're with her," Castiel added.

"Yeah?? Well, tell that to the man that was in her room last night. I asked Lady Kira to go for a stroll through the gardens, but she begs off, saying she was tired. I went into the garden, cut down a yellow rose and  was going to give it to her as a token of my friendship. Only I heard her with someone else and their conversation was more than friendly," he retorted.

"But maybe it's not what you think, Dean. Think about it before you--" Samuel was cut off by his brother.

"Drop it, Sam," Dean demanded. "Look, over there. Two werewolves, no wait--now there's three more," he remarked.

"This is too many, we can't take this many on, Dean," Samuel said.

"Yeah we can, we have to. There's nobody else to do it except us. Here's what we do," he started.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira rode Midnight as fast as she could to get to where the princes  and Castiel were battling the werewolves. Part of her was asking, why am I doing this? Prince Dean rejected my friendship and moved on with my fiercest rival.  The other part, the bigger part....still cares about him. With that thought, she spurred Midnight on to ride just a little faster.

An hour later, Kira had found the abandoned barn where the werewolves were last reported. She saw where the royal horses were tethered and secured Midnight with them. She could hear shouting from the princes and Castiel, along with growling and snarling from the werewolves.

Kira dug in her bag for her silver throwing knives, then re-tied the bag closed. She sheathed the knives in leather pouches tied around her thigh and waist. A silver dagger was tucked into one of her boots. With her weapons secured, she crept up to the barn and into the battle.

She carefully opened the door and saw that Prince Samuel was the one most immediately in front of her. Two of the werewolves were already dead, leaving three more. Prince Samuel was on his back on the floor, a werewolf hovered over him with long, sharp claws ready to strike. She pulled out two knives and threw them in quick succession, embedding themselves in the heart of Prince Samuel's assailant.

Prince Samuel rolled out from under the werewolf just in time to keep it from crashing on top of him. He got to his feet and looked around to see who had thrown the knives. When his eyes landed on Kira, his face registered genuine shock. She gave him a quick smile and a salute, then the two of them went to help his companions.

A werewolf had Castiel pinned up against a wall, snarling and snapping its jaws at his captive. Castiel was managing to keep it at arms' length, but Kira knew his strength wouldn't hold out forever.

Kira threw a knife at its back to pull his attention away from Castiel. The werewolf howled in pain, arching its back and releasing its hold, allowing Castiel to drive his silver dagger into its heart. Castiel  managed to give Kira a weak but grateful smile, followed by a weary  salute, after which they all went to find Prince Dean.

The three of them found him in the next room, hunched over in pain and being stalked by the last werewolf. Kira could see blood on his ripped shirt and knew they didn't have much time. Prince Samuel, Castiel and Kira fanned out, trying to draw their attention away from Prince Dean.

The werewolf noticed the three newcomers and shifted its focus, deciding that Kira was its next target. She withdrew her knife, took aim and threw it at the creature. However, at the last second, it moved, causing the knife to only strike it in the left thigh instead of its heart.

Missing her target only angered the beast even more, as it continued to stalk her. She drew her silver dagger out from her boot. When it lunged, she tried to dodge its blow, but its claws managed to graze her upper arm and she dropped the dagger.

Kira cried out in pain, holding the injured arm and kept moving away from the creature. This gave Prince Samuel an opportunity to retrieve the dagger, which he drove into the last werewolf's heart, thus ending the battle.

With the battle over, Prince Dean collapsed to his knees in pain. Prince Samuel and Castiel rushed to his side and each took an arm to support him so he could walk. Kira's tunic was torn at the bottom, so she ripped off a strip to use as a makeshift bandage for her arm. She brought a first aid kit, but it was back in her bag with Midnight. She had just finished tying off her bandage when the men reached her position.

"Lady Kira, that was amazing. I was unaware of your hunting skills, and I am suitably impressed. Thank you for coming to our aid," Castiel remarked with a slight bow.

"It was truly fortunate that you were able to find us and take out these werewolves, Lady Kira. Your assistance was invaluable," Prince Samuel said.

Kira waited for Prince Dean to say something, anything, or to even acknowledge her presence. She decided to speak up first. "Your Highness," she said as she gave a slight curtsy. "I can see that you are injured. I have a first aid kit out--"

"What are you doing here? How did you find us? We had the situation well in hand before you showed up. What were you thinking?" Prince Dean ranted.

"If that's your way of saying 'thank you', save it. You could learn a few things from your brother and Castiel about showing gratitude," Kira retorted.

"'Showing gratitude'? Saying 'thank you'?" he responded sarcastically. "You could've been injured much worse or even killed!" he thundered.

Kira's anger had reached its boiling point and there was no going back now. She was going to let him have it and to hell with the consequences. "Oh yeah? Fat lot you care! One minute we're holding hands in the garden, talking about moonlight strolls. The next minute, I see you running around with Lady Serena on your arm.

"You barely speak to me, so I can't find out whatever I may have done wrong to even try and fix it. You broke my heart by taking away our friendship. But you know what? Despite all that's happened between us, I came out here to help. I cannot and will not turn my back on you or anyone else in trouble. Now, if you'll excuse me, Your Highness, it's time I got back to the castle," Kira finished, turning on her heel and heading towards the horses.

"Okay, you want to talk? Fine. Let's talk," he shouted as they walked. "Why don't we talk about there being a man in your room that night after dinner? I asked you to go for a walk but you said you were tired, so you went up to your room.

"I cut down a rose from the garden and was bringing it to you as a token of my friendship with you. But I stopped in front of your door because I heard you flirting with another man. You lied to me, Lady Kira. Lied about why you didn't want to spend time with me that night, and who knows what else. You probably even lied about your feelings for me," he accused.

By this time, they had reached the horses and Kira opened her bag for the first aid kit. She threw it to Prince Samuel. "Your Highness," she said as she looked straight at Prince Dean. "I could tell you that I never lied about anything with you, which I did not, but you won't accept that. I told you some things that would have me locked away for being crazy, but you somehow believed them," she pointed out. Castiel assisted her up into the saddle. "Why won't you believe in me now?" Kira choked out as she and Midnight rode off towards the castle.

Part 10 here!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @janicho88 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @supernatural-jackles @babygurltt @flamencodiva @ejlovespie​ @deandreamernp

The Hunter’s Princess Series Tags: @supernatural-love14

#dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #au dean winchester x ofc #au dean winchester #au supernatural #spn #The Hunter's Princess Series

[quickspinner]

Second Chance - Ch 1 The One That Got Away

Hello friends! Continuing posting my backlog of work that was posted to AO3 but not Tumblr. You can filter the backlog tag if you don’t want to see these fyi.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Summary: 

It's been years since he last saw Marinette. He's a successful rock star and she's been traveling the world chasing her dreams. Luka thought he had grown up and moved on, but when Marinette lands back in Paris and seeks him out, it takes about ten seconds for him to figure out he can't resist a second chance.

Aged-up, total self-indulgent Lukanette fluff. There will be some implied sexual content later on but nothing explicit. 

The beginning of this first chapter comes from the last chapter of I Will Give You the Stars, and while you don’t have to have read that one first, the two stories do go well together.

Luka tossed his sweaty hair back from his face and looked out at the blinding lights. “Okay guys,” he said into the microphone, picking idly at his guitar. “I think we’re gonna take it down a bit for this next song. But first, can we bring the house lights up please?”

Used to his quirks, the lighting crew responded quickly, dimming the lights in his eyes and turning up the lights on the crowd in the packed stadium.

“That’s better,” Luka said, skimming the crowd of fans waving and screaming wildly. “I know this might be kinda weird if this is your first show with me, but I just like to see you. Put some faces to my audience. This is a two way street, you and me, and I don’t wanna forget that.”

A small crowd of girls off to his right screamed in rehearsed unison, “WE LOVE YOU LUKA!” 

He grinned toward them and winked. “Love you too, sweethearts.” As they shrieked excitedly he looked at the banner they were holding up, decorated with birthday cakes and glittery letters. “Seventeen huh? Nice. Happy birthday, babe.” The girl in the middle of the group wearing a sparkly tiara put her hands over her mouth, eyes huge, while her friends practically mobbed her. Luka chuckled and returned to his perusal of the crowd, meeting as many eyes as he could. Somewhere a group of fans screamed for Juleka and out of the corner of his eye he could see her raise a lace-gloved hand to blow them a kiss. 

Suddenly he locked eyes with a familiar sapphire gaze and the rest of the stadium disappeared. 

“Well hey there, beautiful,” he said softly, ignoring the several ladies in the line of his gaze who swooned or screamed. She knew who he was talking to, a slow smile spreading over her face. “I didn’t know you were back in Paris.” His grin widened as he took in the faces around her. “Wow, check it out Jules, looks like a bunch of old friends came to see us tonight. Awesome.” 

He tore his gaze away with effort, and looked up to the balcony. He couldn’t see faces up there as well, but he let his gaze rake across slowly before nodding. “All right. Now that we know each other, let’s get back to the music, shall we?”

The lighting crew recognized their cue, and the blinding lights were back as the stadium went dark. Luka stepped back from the mic for a moment to take a deep, centering breath, focusing on the vibrations of the stage that he could feel even through his heavy boots, the feel of his guitar in his hands, and the song he could still hear ringing in his mind even though he couldn’t see her anymore.

Then his fingers began to move, and he stepped back up to the mic.

***

They didn’t get to meet their friends that night, which was just as well as far as Luka was concerned. He wasn’t ever at his best right after a show, sweaty and sore and exhausted and he definitely didn’t want to see her looking like he’d just been run over by his tour bus. But Rose—bless beautiful, sweet, romantic Rose—Rose had his back. When Juleka wasn’t looking, Rose slipped a piece of paper in his hand that had a phone number, a time, and the name of his favorite café. “I knew you’d be free in the morning,” she whispered. “I figured you wouldn’t mind missing out on the sleep.”

“You’re the best,” he whispered back, slipping the paper in his pocket as Rose glanced anxiously at Juleka.

Marinette was already waiting outside the next morning as he walked up, looking like she’d walked straight out of his dreams. She caught sight of him and smiled, turning to face him as his heart skipped a few beats.

He was a grown-ass man and a legitimate rock star, and that smile still did things to him. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Luka grinned, opening his arms. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, coming into his arms to hug him and then rising on her toes to exchange cheek kisses. “The show last night was great.”

“It was great to have you guys there,” Luka said, letting her go and opening the café door for her. “I have to admit, I’m getting kinda sick of big shows. I miss connecting with people the way I did when I was playing smaller venues.”

“The price of being a famous rock star,” she said as he pulled out a chair for her at his usual table.

“Not that famous,” he protested, sitting down across from her.

“Pretty famous,” she grinned, leaning her elbows on the table to look up at him. 

He shrugged and grinned at the ground. “Yeah, okay, maybe.”

Marinette smiled. “I’m glad it hasn’t changed you, Luka.”

“So when did you get back in town?” Luka asked, ready to be done talking about himself. 

“Two nights ago.”

“And the first thing you did was come see my show? I’m flattered.”

“Really, I was lucky,” Marinette admitted. “The others got tickets ages ago, before I knew I would be here, but Mylene’s at that stage of pregnancy where she’s falling asleep all the time, so she gave me her ticket. I think Ivan was relieved, actually.”  

Luka picked up her hand. “Marinette, any time you want to come to a performance you know you just have to ask.”

“Says the man who’s changed his number four times in the last year,” she teased. 

Luka winced. “Yeah this whole fame thing really puts a crimp in my social life sometimes. I have a whole new appreciation for what Adrien went through in school. At least not that many people recognize me like this.” He gestured to his casual outfit, black jeans and a plain grey tshirt that were a far cry from his elaborate stage costumes and makeup. “Sometimes people recognize the hair and the ink but mostly I get left alone as long as I keep a low profile.” 

Marinette rested her chin on her hand and smiled up at him. “I like the hair. Must be cooler on stage this way, and it photographs better. Your eyes are too nice to be hidden all the time.”

“So my agent told me,” Luka sighed, running his hand over the short hair beneath the blue tinted locks falling from the top. “And you’re right, it is cooler. I like yours too,” he added, reaching out his free hand to tweak a loose strand on her shoulder. “You look good with it long. Anyway, I’m sorry about the phone thing. I’ll give you my assistant’s number before we leave, she can always put you through if I have to change it again. I don’t want to lose touch with you over something so stupid.”  He realized suddenly that she was blushing, watching his thumb move over her fingers. Fortunately the waiter approached just at that moment, giving him an excuse to let go of her hand casually. 

Luka was a regular here and he chatted easily with the staff as they came and went with water and menus, but he had a hard time keeping his eyes off Marinette. Damn, after all this time she still affected him the same way, drawing him in like a magnet. Like him, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a fitted shirt with a wide neck that left a distracting amount of her freckled shoulders and collarbone bare. She was everything he remembered, just matured, mellowed, more. He’d known in his gut that he was on a high-speed train to heartbreak the minute he’d locked eyes with her in the show.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing since you left,” Luka said as soon as the staff had left with their orders. 

“So many things,” Marinette breathed. “Luka, it was amazing, I learned so much and I got to see and do so much.”

“Tell me,” he murmured, leaning on the table, already entranced by her passion. God, he needed his guitar, he could write whole albums on the look in her eyes right now.

She brightened, pulling out a battered sketchbook. Luka moved his chair around the table to be next to her and propped his chin in his hand, letting her voice wash over him as she took him on a tour of her dreams.

“I’m not boring you, am I?” she asked suddenly, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes that reminded him of the nervous girl who’d walked into his room all those years ago.

“Not in the least,” he told her and he knew he must be giving her some kind of look because her blush spread down to her neckline. 

He was saved from doing something reckless by the arrival of their food. Clearing his throat, he moved back to his end of the table and asked about her parents. 

They talked about their families as they ate, the crazy things Anarka got up to that Luka had to bail her out of (sometimes with the police, once literally when there was a mishap on the boat), how Marinette’s parents had coped with her two-year absence, what their mutual friends had been up to. 

And she told him about the things that hadn’t been so great about her trip, the jet lag and the long hours, picking up from one city and moving on just when she’d finally gotten comfortable, the frustrations of frequently having conversations in English when it was neither conversant’s first language. 

“Every time I’d get depressed I’d feel ungrateful,” she told him, idly picking apart what was left of her food. “Like, so many people entered that competition and out of everyone they chose me to have this fantastic experience in all these different design houses, and there I was acting homesick and lonely.  And...meeting so many new people made me realize how rare and precious my true friends are...and how maybe there were some I didn’t appreciate enough.” She glanced up at him through her lashes, biting her lip, and he swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. 

Before he could, she pushed her plate away and abruptly changed the subject. “So, when are you going to put out another calendar?” She ginned.

Luka groaned and put his face down on the table. “Please tell me you didn’t see one of those.”

“Oh I very much did,” she laughed. “If I can find it once I’m unpacked maybe you’ll sign it for me. October was my favorite, though July was probably the most...hmm...inspiring.” She laughed as he put his arms over his head, partly to cover the brilliant red that he was sure covered his neck and ears. “Luka Couffaine, are you actually embarrassed?”

“Thoroughly,” he said from beneath his arms. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I try really hard to pretend that whole thing never happened, honestly. I felt like such a—“ He shook his head.

“Was it really awful?” She asked, her amusement turning to sympathy.

“I hated every minute of it,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t want to do it but a bunch of things happened at once right then and my family really needed the money. And I figured, better me than Juleka, who knows what they’d have wanted her to do and her fans are way scarier than mine.” He made a face. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll get all pissed at me for getting all big brothery on her.”

“I’m sorry, Luka, I didn’t know.” Marinette reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I won’t tease you about it anymore.”

“Thanks.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “October, huh? That was the black and white one, right? That one wasn’t so bad. At least it was artistic. And I got to wear actual pants.”

Marinette giggled. “And you made them look good. It was a good picture. Sexy, but soulful. And with the guitar and the ripped jeans, it felt like I was seeing you, and not a stranger who kinda looked like you, you know.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Honestly it wasn’t the pictures I minded so much, my agent kept the really embarrassing ones out of it and we made sure they were destroyed, just I could have lived without being treated like a doll without any feelings or dignity.” 

“Mmm, I see that a lot. A lot of designers and stylists stop seeing models as people. I guess knowing Adrien for so many years made it hard for me to think that way. The designers I was shadowing got really frustrated with me because of it.”

“Maybe I’m hopelessly optimistic but I think your way will pay off in the end.” He winked at her. “I can guarantee that if I ever have to do anything like that again, I’ll be calling you to be my stylist. If this tour weren't already under contract I’d hire you on the spot.” 

Marinette kicked him under the table. “You’re biased, Luka.”

“Always have been when it comes to you. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Luka,” she began and then hesitated. He waited patiently, though curiosity was eating him alive as she licked her lips and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen I know you’re really busy and your schedule’s kind of crazy and it was already super nice of you to make time to have lunch with me—“ Luka had to cover the smile tugging at his lips with his hand at this very Marinette ramble. “But I was wondering, if you might want to have dinner with me, um...as a date.” She swallowed and looked up at him and he could not believe that she thought for one second he might actually say no.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, reaching out to take her hand. “I mean I do have to check my schedule, but I’ll make time. I’ll call you? Probably not tonight, but no later than tomorrow evening, I promise.”

His phone alarm went off in his pocket before he’d even finished speaking, and he sighed, pulling it out.

“You have to go?” Marinette smiled crookedly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, silencing the alarm and putting his phone away. He reached across the table and took her both hands in his. “It’s been great seeing you again Marinette. I’m so glad we’ve been able to catch up.” He kissed her hands as he stood up. “I’ll call you soon, okay?” 

“Was everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Couffaine?” 

Luka turned, grasping the hand offered by the suited man behind him. “Fantastic as always, Gerard, and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Luka?” Gerard smiled under his mustache but didn’t reply. “Please let the lady have whatever she’d like for dessert on my tab, okay?” 

“Of course, Mr. Couffaine.”

Luka rolled his eyes and smiled back at a Marinette one more time with a quick wave, her own smile warming him as he turned to go.

The minute the studio's car service picked him up, his phone was in his hand.  “Lucille,” he said when his assistant picked up, hoping she couldn’t hear the idiotic grin on his face. “Yeah, I’m on my way, but have you got a few minutes? Can you run me through what my schedule looks like? I need you to free up an evening for me in the next week.”

It took more than a few minutes, and he had to cancel three meetings and move back a rehearsal, but he could not bring himself to care. 

Because when the one that got away suddenly walks back into your life and asks you out, who gives a crap about meetings?

#quickspins #backlog #yes give me all the lukanette hugs #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics #second chance

[nelllraiser]

dream a little dream of (norma) lee | norma & nell

LOCATION: dream land 👀 PARTIES: @nelllraiser and @normallee SUMMARY: featuring a witch trail and a ring fight.

The air smelled cleaner. Small towns always were. It was part of why Norma preferred them to large, overcrowded cities. This one was no different than the rest. Languages may change, costumes may differ, technology may advance, but humans were so fundamentally interchangeable it hardly mattered. She had no idea which one this was, but it looked vaguely familiar. The style of dress seemed to be from another century but she had trouble saying which one. More recent than less but time was relative after all. Norma wandered through the town, it was quiet and civil, everyone walked in straight orderly lines and talked in calm even tones. As she stood still, someone ran into her. A plainly dressed woman in simple clothes and 

“Oh hello, dear. It’s time for the witch trial,” she said patiently, almost as if Norma had not been the cause of their collision mere moments ago. “A witch trial?” Norma asked, eyes lit up. Maybe this town would not be so humble and boring after all. “Which way?” The woman pointed and Norma went to gleefully trot off. Only she found herself conformed to the line and forced to a steady even pace. What on earth was going on? She sighed. As long as she was able to revel in the delicious joy of witnessing some good old fashioned chaos. Only once the crowd politely circled the witch in question, it was just so calm and orderly. Norma wanted to scream, only when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. 

Whisperings of a witch trial as she went around town was enough to set Nell on edge. After all, if it was witches they were after...they’d certainly have a high interest in capturing her, right? As soon as she’d thought it, she found her in the center of a circling line, the eyes of the crowd trained on her, some pointing fingers as they spoke of the witch that would be brought to justice. What the hell was everyone wearing? She could have sworn she’d stepped into some strange pilgrim fantasy, and as she looked down at herself she was vaguely startled to find that she too was dressed to the times, whatever time this may be. “What the hell?” she mumbled under her breath, watching the townsfolk still circling her. They kept talking about burning the devil and things like that, but didn’t actually make any moves towards her. On and on they went in their placid and perfect line, paying Nell no mind other than to occasionally murmur about how she was a witch. This had to be the most boring witch trial in the history of witch trials. Raising her hands, Nell began to speak. “Okay well...this has been...super fun, but I’m gonna go now. As she tried to break through the circle, one of the blank townsfolk tried to shuffle her back to the center, not entirely pleased that she’d broken the order. 

There was too much order, too much regulation. This was not worth it. Not at all. What good was a witch hunt with no screaming or yelling? “Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” a placid announcer said from a podium on a stage. “This is going to be calm and rational. We know that there is a witch among us. And while we so dearly wish we could let her live, we cannot. It’s a shame.” Norma tried to reach out, feel any rumblings, any disenchantment with the whole thing, any singular negative emotion at all. The crowd was emotionally silent. Save for one person. Norma’s head turned directly at a girl with dark hair clearly trying to make a break for it. “Her! It’s her!” Norma said as she stood up, pointing at the woman in the crowd. “Oh dear. I see you’ve quite missed the point,” the woman next to her said. She sighed and made a gesture with her hands. Then, two men grabbed her and very calmly walked her towards the podium. The other girl seemed headed there, too. “Xmucane, we know what you are. It’s very humorous you thought you could hide in the crowd,” the announcer told her while she tried to fight to get away. Nothing was working. It was like trying to fight a wall.

“What?” was Nell’s reflexive and outraged reply to the claim of witchery. “That’s bullshit! You don’t even know me!” Everything felt so...strange. Like the things she was touching weren’t entirely real, or floating just beyond her grasp. And yet the promise of being tried as a witch felt very real. She knew she wasn’t in any immediate danger. Not when she could just magic herself out, but it was still nerve-wracking to know that she was being hunted. Especially after everything with August. But as she was taken to the podium, she couldn’t help the vindictive streak that ran through her as she also say the woman who had claimed she was a witch there as well. “Ha! Sucks to suck! Looks like you’re a witch, too!” She quickly recovered. Though now that she thought about it..she could probably use this witch thing to her advantage. “Alright, so what if I am a witch?” she asked the crowd. “This is a pretty surefire way to guarantee a curse on your entire family line for the rest of eternity.” She went to reach for her magic, to let it pool and ready itself for an escape. But there was...nothing. What? Where were her powers? 

“You don’t understand! I am not a witch! I would never be something so human and mortal, how dare you suggest such a thing!” Norma yelled as she was carried carefully to the stage alongside the actual witch, the crowd poised and collected the entire time. There wasn’t a single cheer or scream to be heard, simply the occasional golf clap. Norma felt like she was the only one trying to fight or make a scene. Well, perhaps aside from the actual witch next to her. The floor next to them opened up and two guillotines rose up. “I’m afraid it’s time for you to meet your ends. We really do appreciate you being so reasonable. It’s one of our core values,” the man said as Norma was being pulled towards the blade. “No, no, no,” she said, trying to scream and fight, but she was powerless, forced to obey and comply. “You can’t do this, I’ll, I’ll--” She wouldn’t do anything. Gods, she at least deserved a good riot while this was happening and not the placid,pathetic excuse for an audience surrounding her. Her head was placed at the chopping block and someone came to pull the rope. She closed her eyes and winced, waiting for her inevitable end. 

As the other woman yelled, Nell was ready to voice her own displeasure at being brought to the witch trial…until Norma decided to disparage witches and mortals in one breath. “Hey! You’d be lucky to be a witch!” she yelled petulantly, distracted for a moment. It was still almost eerie as the crowd looked on, disturbingly polite and quiet. What the hell was wrong with them? But as a guillotine seemed to rise from nowhere, her stomach dropped. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time a Vural would lose her head. No…no! She wouldn’t let this happen! Nell began to thrash against those around her, biting and hitting anything within her reach while her magic continued to perform a disappearing act. What was her magic? Where was her power? “Fuck you!” Nell yelled out through her struggling. But there was nothing she could do as her head was settled into the guillotine, her breath coming too fast now. She’d been here before. The only thing she could do was pray that Bea wouldn’t show up out of nowhere, throwing herself in front of the blade. Let it be Nell. Let he be the one to die this time. The guillotine dropped, but Nell felt nothing. She opened her eyes, and sure enough there was Bea’s head, bloodied and rolling on the ground. “No, no, no, no,” she rambled, utter panic filling her. Not again. Please no again. She blinked, trying to rid the image from her brain, and the next time she opened her eyes the crowd was gone, everything having changed in the blink of the eye. It only took her a moment to recognize the familiar arena that had risen up around her and the other woman. “The Ring.”

Norma waited, but there was no pain. No end. Just… cheering? She opened her eyes and looked around. “The what?” Norma asked as she pushed herself up from the ground. She was surrounded by stands everywhere encircling them. An arena? Where were they? She’d never been to this place in her life. And it was a very long life. It was certainly meant for some sort of sport or entertainment. But why were they at the bottom? “Excuse me!” she called out, though no one could likely hear her over the sound of the audience. “Excuse me, is there going to be blood sports? Or just sports? I have to say, what you call basketball is dreadfully dull without any human sacrifices!” No one was listening. But there was that witch with her in the pit. “You. You’re following me. And seem to have an idea where we are. Please tell me what’s happen--” Before Norma could finish asking her question, let alone receive any answers, a door was sliding open across the way. She squinted her eyes, trying to make out what was entering this arena with them. It was hard to tell from here. The shapes looked vaguely human. That hardly meant much, many things were shaped or guised as humans though they were nothing of the sort. Still, the cheering grew louder. Norma could feel chaos rippling everywhere and she tried her best to feed from it, pull it, manipulate it. But there was nothing. “My powers,” she said, looking at her hands, and then back at the crowd, ignoring the figures headed towards them. “They’re not working.” Panic spiked in her. Did that also mean that she was vulnerable? Could she truly die? It appeared she would have to find out. And soon.

The woman who’d tried to get Nell guillotined was still here? She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. “Who are you?” she asked reflexively, still trying to get her breathing back to normal after seeing her sister’s decapitated head lying on the ground once again. What the hell was this woman yelling about, anyway? Blood sports? Wait, hold on. She’d heard that before. Or rather...heard it in her head. “It’s you?!” she yelled out in shock. “You’re the one in my head?” Then she did her best to explain. “It’s a fighting ring.” That was the simplest answer she could give when everything seemed to be moving all at once, but was also strangely static. The Ring didn’t scare her, though. That was the only thought she could muster before one of the shadowy human forms darted towards her, attacking without warning. Nell struck out in a reflexive motion, her knife seemingly materializing in her hand from thin air as it sliced across the shadow’s throat. But it was only one of the many shadows that seemed intent on spilling their blood. The other woman was babbling about powers, and Nell couldn’t even begin to follow her logic. “What powers? Just punch them or something!” Her own magic was still nowhere to be found, and though that alarmed her, she’d make do with what she had.

“Oh, hello, I’m Norma! Well, I’m Norma Lee right now but I didn’t used to--” This whole scenario was strange and ephereally, but something suggested to Norma that she should not give away her identity just now, even though it was highly likely that this witch might die at any second. “In your head? What do you mean? I haven’t been able to get into anyone’s heads for months now and let me tell you, little witch, it’s not fu--” Her words cut off with a scream as a shadowy figure came charging at her. “Who are you and why are we in a fighting ring?” Norma was not a fighter and she did not know what to do about this. Normally she simply let any sort of soldiers “kill her” and she would simply play dead. However, she was quite concerned about her powers not functioning properly. Now was not the time to test her invulnerability as well. Norma jumped behind the witch who seemed to have a handle on this fightin thing. “Left hook, left hook!” she shouted. She wasn’t sure what that was or if that was the appropriate maneuver for the situation, but she had heard it many times before in fighting type movies and media and assumed it had just as much a chance of being right in the situation as anything else did. 

“I don’t think this is the time for introductions!” Nell yelled back in exasperation, not at all impressed with the other woman’s reaction. Was she...hiding? Of course she’d get stuck in the Ring with someone who refused to fight. It was only Nell’s luck that it should happen this way. And now the other woman was apparently cheering her on, as if this were some trashy wrestling show. Nevertheless as each shadow approached, Nell was quick to handle them. But when each body was dispatched it didn’t fade into oblivion. It simply...stayed there, the pile growing as the forms seemed to endlessly come her way. The witch gathered her own fair share of bruises and cuts in the process, the air even punched out of her at one point until she managed to catch her breath. Finally, as quickly as they’d appeared, the shadows stopped. Shoulders heaving as Nell breathed, she turned to look at the woman that didn’t belong. “What are you doing here?” How had they even gotten here? Weren’t they just at a witch trial? Then, a growing gurgling sound caught Nell’s attention behind her. Were the shadows rising again? As she turned to look over her shoulder, Nell’s reaction was instant, a physical recoil working its way through her body as her face went white. The shadows were no longer shadows, but the bleeding out figures of those she loved and cared about, their lifeless faces staring back up at her.

Relief washed over Norma as the last of the shadowy figures fell, piled in front of them. Norma exhaled sharply and smoothed down her dress, brushing off any of the dirt and debris that had gotten on her. “Very rough fight, good job witchling!” She said enthusiastically, holding her hand up for something she was told was called a five of highs. She assumed this was the appropriate venue. Though the woman was not reciprocating. Odd. “What do you mean? I have no idea what I’m doing here, I’ve never even been here. You’re the one who knew where we were.” Norma reached out to try and feel the strife stirring within this small witch in front of her. She was sure it was there, the look etched into the lines of her face suggested there was something strong brewing there for her to tap into. And yet, Norma felt nothing. Her powers still failed her. “This isn’t possible, why can’t I use them!” she shouted as the audience around them laughed and clapped. Before Norma could turn to tell all of the miserable mortals here to cease their laughter at her, the shadowy figures gained form. Slowly at first, like a lens bringing the world into focus. Norma tilted her head, trying to make out who it was, if it was anyone she knew or cared for. “Who are they?”

Like a flash, Norma sat up in bed, sweating, palms raw and covered in dirt. She looked around and no, this was her apartment. Nothing off about it. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Her powers were still there, ready and waiting, though waning with disuse. All was well. But who was that girl? Was it simply a strange dream figure? Odd, she normally never paid mortals from her past much attention. Strange that this one stuck. Oh well, she wouldn’t let her interrupt her sleep any further than she had already and curled up again, laying her head back down on her pillow, paying no concern to the small pricks of pain along her neck. Surely it was all a dream. 

The question of who they were hit Nell deep as she looked at the familiar faces staring back at her, glassy eyes empty and lifeless. She couldn’t look away no matter how hard she tried, as if a pair of hands were holding her head in place, forcing her to look at what she’d done, horror quickly consuming her. Then it was over all at once as she awoke on top of the mattress in her greenhouse, chest still rising and falling with the effort it had taken to fight off the shadows that turned out to be family and friends, and the realization she’d killed them all. She felt like she was choking on air as her eyes sprang open, panic clawing at her throat. Nightmares weren’t anything new ever since Montgomery had sliced Bea’s head off like butter, Nell’s sleep having suffered ever since then. But this was different. It took a long moment for Nell to calm herself after the carnage of the dream, but once the sweat on her brow had dried, and her breathing had returned to normal, she could take inventory. There was blood on her blankets, coming from wounds she didn’t remember sustaining. Except...didn’t these match up with what she’d been hit with in the dream. Shit. Definitely not a normal fucking dream. Her eyes clenched shut, trying to remember what it was the other woman had given as a name. Norma. Norma Lee? What the actual fuck? Surely that had to be a fake ass name? Had she just been trolling Nell? Was she even real? The others had said they’d found their dream counterparts, but how could Nell tell if this was her’s or not for certain? There were far too many questions ricocheting around her head as she carefully sat up, hissing as the newly formed bruises on her stomach objected. There was at least one thing she could be sure of. There’d be no more sleeping for her tonight.

#wickedswriting #ch:norma #chatzy #dream a little dream of norma lee

[peachydyoung]

freakshow | m.l (m)

— 🗣A/N 🗣 ➙ this was proofread and edited at 4:00 AM so if there are missed shit excuse it.

— genre ➙  freakshow!au + gang!au + smut + angst

— words ➙  15K rip i hate fics this long 

— member ➙  mark lee  in honor of him turning 19 and dying his hair black

— warnings ➙  graphic smut, dirty talk, softdom!mark + sub!reader, oral, fingering + Unprotected sex | strong language

There isn’t much in your college town, but when the mysterious and notorious, “Ten’s Traveling Carnival,” comes on their annual visit, you’re somehow roped into going. But amidst the freak show acts, you see something odd... something unlawful. You never expected you would be trying to bust a criminal organization coverup, but you never thought you would fall smitten with the star magician either. 

↳ 01 completed

— ⚠️ DISCLAIMER⚠️ ➙  This is a work of fiction, nothing I write in here has happened. So I’m a little nervous about doing this fic, Mark is younger and I don’t know how people will react, my intention is not to offend anyone. Each fic will have their own set of warnings, look at them and evaluate if they are for you. My intention is not to offend, or trigger anybody, I am here to entertain you and exercise my passion as a writer.

October 9th, 3rd day since Carnival arrival, 18 days until departure

What would it be like with Lisa? You imagined what it would be like to with her instead of him. But that's all you could do. Because Instead of being at home eating takeout and watching tv, you were at a Carnival with Johnny.

And you sat in your seat miserably,  head slumped on Johnny’s shoulder and eyes glued to the terrible freak show acts. Conjoined twins, knife throwers, fire eaters, the typical.

When you were younger, you used to love coming. It was your aunt who took you whenever you pleased. But now? Now it was astonishingly tiresome to watch, and a waste of your valuable time.

“Why?” You murmured to Johnny, checking the time on your phone as he clawed the bucket of popcorn. “Why did you have to bring me along?” But Johnny was too wrapped up in the show to give you the time of day. And instead of answering you, his eyes followed the bearded lady as she walked from the spotlight.

And just as she left, a frail boy scurried onto the stage. You recognized as Ten, the young carnival owner who had inherited the business once his father passed away. But that was all the information he ever disclosed. Ten's Traveling Carnival was the talk of the town, going from country to country, state to state, but the urban legends and mysteries were endless.

With a glimpse of excitement, he grabbed the microphone in his hands, his eyes scanning the crowd as he drunk in the applause.  “And now!” His voice rung into the microphone, “I give you the Marvelous Mark!”

The audience exploded. This one man caused infectious grins to spill onto everyone’s faces, cheering and hollering you could only ask why. There was nothing special about this place.

College was fun, it was your dad who had always reminded you to take hold of that time, but you never expected yourself to do something so stupid. Like, for example, watch a freak show when you could be at a party.

But college life was different. You went wherever it took you.

“But may I ask, ” the bright tent lights dimmed as if for a dramatic effect. The boy was attractive no doubt, yet there was something malicious about his actions, something a little less than innocent. "Please turn off all cell phones until the end of this show, or I ensure you, there will be consequences.”

A scoff left your lips as you looked down at your lit iPhone. What were they going to do? They can’t check your phone. Or maybe... it was part of the act.

But when Ten disappeared, and the curtains opened, the magician wasn’t there.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at the people who searched around aimlessly for any sign of that boy. Perhaps he got cold feet, hid from the crowd because he got nervous. A sense of amusement flooded your senses.  

And suddenly, before you got to giddy, a boy appeared. Dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans he sauntered to the front of the stage with a bright smile on his face. There was no doubt he was an attractive boy, you were starting to think that they were all attractive. With black hair and brown eyes, you could see the appeal in his appearance. He was handsome.

And your mind immediately wandered to that, it was always what your mind wandered too. Attractive boys, attractive girls, cute dogs, cute cats, it was natural to classify people by looks. He was handsome, undoubtedly.

“I’m Mark.” His dark eyes glinted in the dim lighting of the tent, but he had a flirtatious smile, scoping out and locking eyes with each girl in the crowd. And despite feeling a scoff well up in your throat, you couldn’t help but lean forward, something about this boy intrigued you. “And if you would be so kind,” He glanced around the crowd, finally pointing at one man. “You. Could you please hand me a dollar bill.”

It was only after you saw the man and a dollar bill over that you recognized it was the other person you came here with. He was talking to your friend, Sehun, who had gone with his girlfriend but sat in the front row.

When Sehun handed him the dollar bill, there was no doubt Mark was just as generic like every magician out there.  Nothing different. But instead of dismissing his act, you decided to watch.

“Now,” He started, “I’m Mark. I’m not a magician, I’m a wizard.” A snort left your lips in the ostensibly silent room. You had guessed he was targeted at a younger audience, just by the way he talked.

Slowly glancing down at your phone, you pressed the camera icon, planting your phone in front of your lips and letting a video play. “And with this match, I’ll light...”  he trailed off, striking the match against his skin, and slowly bringing the fire to the dollar bill, “...this dollar bill on fire.” And everyone watched as the dollars flame grew.

And with a surprise, Mark’s hand closed on the growing flame. The crowd gasping at the man who had burned himself.

But out of his hand came a dove, the dollar went, the fire is gone, and the match gone.

Cheers erupted over the impressive, yet nonproprietary trick, catching your interest but being too proud to admit that you actually were quite interested.

“And from this dove, I birth two.” Bringing the dove in his hand, closing it until it was out of sight, two doves appeared. And then he plucked a feather from the poor dove, releasing it after he had done so.

“And from this feather, I birth a…” And with the snap of his finger, a hundred dollar bill appeared. Mark handed it to Sehun with a friendly smile.

And then he moved on, showing other tricks, but soon your interest was gone again, and you couldn’t help but slump on Johnny’s shoulder, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Y/N, get off of me,” Johnny said, panic-laced in his usual soft voice. His reached deep into his sweatshirt, unsettled by something that just happened. “I can’t find my fucking wallet.”

You instantly got off of him, your eyebrows furrow with concern.

“Did you drop it or something?” He nodded, his head alarmed at his recent finding. “I mean it only had cash and my driver’s license, but I need my fucking driver’s license Y/N!” You nodded, bringing your phone down and looking around the area in which you sat as if that would help.

And with a sigh you looked up, glancing at the exit of the tent. What the fuck?

A small boy, perhaps sixteen, had walked behind a mother. A baby slung in her arm and a child in front of her, she and her children watched in awe of the boy in front of her. But what she didn’t notice was the stealthy hands digging into her pocket, taking from her some cash and wallet. And you noticed it happen again. But this time with someone different.

The magician was little more than a highly effective, in fact, Mark knew exactly what he was doing. The looks he exchanged with those three boys, and the way they were so stealthy proved only one thing. He would entertain the crowd, and get his friends to pickpocket innocent people while he did the same. And you finally realized why he invited the most attractive and wealthy looking people on stage. He would take the precious things in their wallet, while those three boys went around doing the same. Nobody was witnesses to the crime, nobody except you and your phone.

“Johnny,” You grabbed his arm, eyes fixed on the attractive boy behind that man, relieving him of his phone and wallet, his stealthy hands taking them from his back pocket. “Johnny,” you pulled on his arm once more, getting his attention the second time. “I think you were pickpocketed.”

Johnny jeered at you, snatching his arm away from your fingertips as you watched that man exit the tent swiftly, each movement using such grace.

“Not everything is like your stupid mystery books, stop fucking around and help me find it.”  

You rolled your eyes at Johnny and crossed your arms in frustration. But you did, this wasn't a mystery book. You just watched some fucking guy steal from someone else.

And then suddenly, Mark was gone, and the show was over. Ten crossed the stage almost instantly, a wicked smile on his face as he gazed at the crowd.

You had wondered what it would take to make him give the stuff back, you could start with talking to Ten, but you weren't so sure.  “If you would like to see more of our Freaks, then you would do well to ask around back, we have trailers. But the Marvelous Mark and the knife eater  will not be seeing anyone.”

Of course.

Don’t let anyone meet the thief.

But it didn’t matter to you. Even if the night was getting later and later, you needed to at least confront that boy about the bullshit he pulled. You couldn't go home knowing helpless people were stolen from.

Johnny sighed next to you as the crowd began to filter out of the tent. “Can you just wait around, let me look around and shit. I just need fifteen minutes tops. Meet me at my car by 11:00.”

“You’re not gonna find it, Johnny,” you said, and he knew that.

And maybe you would get back his license. After all, they did probably have it. Scratching your chin and looking at the exit of the tent. You had to see Ten, you had to find Mark, and you had to check your phone for what you caught on video.  There was a multitude of things crossing your mind, but you at least wanted to help Johnny.

“It’s worth a shot,” he shrugged, looking around the area more thoroughly as you slowly walked towards the exit.

Your bullshit is over, Marvelous Mark.

The names of the performers were neatly designed on their trailers, but Mark’s was hidden. No name, no act, nothing. You had assumed it was because of his popularity, especially girls. You had counted, you had looked at all names, and narrowed it down to three trailers that were lined at the very far end of the carnival. You ended up picking the earl grey colored trailer.

Your major in college was simple, forensic science, it was because you wanted to help you that you did it. The need for helping people always staying with you. And your loyalty to the law prominent in everything you did. It was what made you, you. Your kind heart and nurturing character.

Walking closer to those three trailers, you weren’t surprised when one opened, a black-haired boy with black clothes jumping out, a lit cigarette in between his lips as his eyes raked your body.

You had seen guys like this, except they went to your college, not a carnival sideshow act. A satisfied smirk crossed his face. It seemed way too rehearsed, maybe he was used to the attention, perhaps he had done this so many times before, other intentions in mind.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?” You drunk in his appearance.

Finding the words to answer him, you opened your mouth, only to speak a few moments after.

“You—I—Can I ask you a couple questions?” There was a rush of nervousness as you began to spoke. Bad scenarios playing in your head.

He chuckled, taking the cigarette that hung loosely in his lips and holding it between his two fingers.

“I don’t have time for questions,” he mused, his voice hanging thick in the air around you. “But if I must ask,” he trailed off, taking a puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the dirt ground. “Policy states no videos, and you were very clearly taking a video. Can I ask you to delete it?”

No. You can’t ask that. He didn’t have any right to be making you feel like you did something wrong. You did nothing. If anything it was you and your friends that were stolen from.

“I could say the same about you,” You scoffed, catching the boys attention with your brash behavior. He shifted on his feet, leaning on the trailer, an entertained look crossing his features. “Pickpocketing your audience? You’re not very slick.” There was a look of surprise on his face, but it was written off as soon as it appeared. He was good at concealing his emotions.

“Yes, which is why I’m telling you to give me your phone dear.” He had no remorse if anything it looked as if he was proud of himself. That deceiving people he promised a fun night to was exciting and exhilarating to him. “Or you’ll have many other problems to worry—”

With a surge of passion, you blurted out your feelings, cutting him off.

“How could you? Do you know how much people come here with the intent—”

“It’s all the finance of being a freak,” he snickered, reaching in his back pocket to take out another cigarette. And although he did act tough, did horrible things, he didn’t seem like the kind of boy to smoke. He didn't look like the type to steal either, but looks can be deceiving. He looked gentle, a bit childish, naïve even, but here he was.

“That’s the finance of being a lawless asshole with no fucking life ahead of them but some stupid fucking freakshow. If you don’t compensate for the things you stole from those people, then I’ll post your video, and nobody will ever come to your stupid ‘Ten’s Traveling Carnival’ bullshit.” There was no emotion in his face, no care for what he did, it was as if he didn’t think you were serious.

Pushing himself off the trailer, he smiled, not an endearing one. Something you would see in a fucked up scary movie. “Firstly Sweetheart,” With a firm grab of your hand, yanking your forward, and his hand steadily on your hips pushing you into his trailer. “I don’t like being threatened. Especially by a broke college student like yourself.”

It was unbelievable. It was terrible. How could he steal from a bunch of innocent people and still scare you enough to not release that video? He knew you for 2 minutes, and yet he had more power over you that was first anticipated. And that was definitely not okay.

“So why don’t you get out of here, and if I see you again matter’s will be worse.”

You weren’t going to turn away so quickly. This was the first carnival in years that piqued your interest, and you were not going to back down from this fight. This was a battle worth fighting.

“For you or for me?" His grip on your hip did nothing but tighten as he heard those words leave your mouth.

“Come back, and we’ll see.”

October 10th, 4th day since Carnival arrival, 17 days until departure

He knew you would be back, with the stuff that he pulled last night it was inevitable for you not to. Foolishly enough, when you were halfway back home, you had gotten no texts, felt no buzzes, heard no dings. And so when you swiftly reached for your back pocket, you were surprised to discover your phone was gone. And oddly enough, you knew who had taken it.

If the Carnival was some big operation to steal from people, what did they do in the offseason? And if it was so bad, why would Mark want you to come back? That just made no sense.  Mark had briefly touched on the fact they were dangerous, but what could possibly be so dangerous?

It was dark enough that in some areas of the Carnival ground it looked like a black abyss. But some stalls and booths vibrated colorful lights under the moonless night. You kept your head down, an old prepaid phone slipping under the strap of your bra, and car keys clipped to your jean ring by a keychain.

Most people wandered from stall to stall, eating the food, playing the games, interacting with attractions. You understood how many people worshipped Ten’s Traveling Carnival, but you also realized how ominous it felt there. Especially being alone in the dark, lit, dirt grounds.

Until finally, you reached the striped tent. You could hear Ten’s voice hang in the air like it did the night before. The ticket booth was lit as well, there stood a man, Jaehyun (or so his name tag said). He took the tickets with a cheap phony smile and only ever showing emotion when a pretty girl walked by.

Hesitantly, you walked up to him. There was an iniquitous gleam in his eyes and creepy smile descending over his face. You looked down instantly, kicking the dirt with your feet, taking out the small red ticket and handing it to him.

“Are you sure Madam?” He asked, his voice unusually dubious. “This show’s almost over,” he motioned to the tent, “and I think I saw you yesterday. There are other, much better shows to attend than this one. You do only have one ticket, Madam.”

You cocked your head to the side giving the attractive boy a puzzling look. He had to of known what was going, there was no way they could do this type of thing and not have everyone aware. And even so, you didn't find it professional for him to be saying that to you.

“Thanks for the concern, but I like this show—”

“I insist, miss, I insist.” You could only help but think Mark told his friends about your little encounter, or maybe… they were watching. You had an odd feeling of being watched on these campgrounds, and it creeped you out.

At the moment, time stopped, the air came to stillness, and yet everything around you grew louder. The lights became brighter, then your heartbeat was quicker now. And everything told you to leave, including him, but you didn’t. With a deep breath and the slowing of your shallow breathing, you gathered up the courage to talk.

“I said— Let. Me. In.”

With a chuckle, he threw his arms up in defensive, ripping the side of the ticket off and handing it to you, keeping the rest. But with a slow pace, he handed you your red ticket, not only were they stealing, they were profiting off of it. And it was smart, they were terrible but intelligent.  

“Enjoy… Miss,” He opened the tent flap and let you go under. It was a different dimension in there. The music, the screams, the mood.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, stalking towards the back of the crowd. And watching as the same stupid bearded lady grew her bear a few inches in front of the crowd in seconds, Wendy, they called her. Who would look pretty if she didn’t have a few feet of facial hair? Stuffing your hands into the pocket of your jeans you waited, glancing around the tent for the same three boys you saw before.

One had black hair, short, about 5’7, cute too. He would walk around towards the front of the rows. The second boy was tall, sandy blonde hair and almond-shaped eyes. He was quick on his feet, stayed towards the back. And there was the last one. He was a young boy, had to be at least sixteen, tall and blonde. He stayed towards the middle, where you and Johnny sat.

In the same outfit, Ten sauntered onto the stage, his presence doing nothing but irk you. Narrowing your eyes at him, he delivered the same words he did yesterday.

“And now!” Using the same soft, kid like voice to announce Mark, he spoke. “I give you,” his eyes locked with yours, “the Marvelous Mark!”

There was nothing special about this place. It was based on lies, the cheers were lies, the fun, the intent. But the crowd was still louder than last night. This was created with malice, to steal, to rape, to kill, and other horrific crimes, and you finally realized that all the stories you were told had been true.

That the drunken ghost stories about this place weren't a lie. Maybe it was you getting ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t help it.

“But may I ask…” His voice got low, the familiar dim of the bright lights befalling. “Please turn off all cell phones until the end of this show, or I ensure you, there will be consequences.”

It was so well rehearsed, so well planned out just like organized crime. You were in awe at what lengths these boys went to, to secure their shitshow.

But an all too familiar feeling washed over your body, and yet again, more people were watching you. Some had amused faces, and others looked as if they wanted to kill you, while Ten, he looked just to look over at you.

The curtains opened just as Ten left. This time Mark was eager, he didn’t hide from the crowd he strutted to the front excited, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. Scanning the crowd for you.

But you weren’t an easy find, not at all, you came dressed in black. But luckily, just as he looked your way, the tall brute stood in your way. Standing there for a couple moments before moving. And unfortunately, his eyes were still locked on you, as if he knew.

“I’m Mark!” He said to the crowd, silence falling over the audience, his eyes pinned to yours. Instead of looking at other places, his eyes remained on you, a smirk appearing on his thin lips. “And I’m not a magician… I’m much, much more, folks.”

The familiar hatred for carnival shows welled up in your chest as you watched him carry on. His friend's eyes tightly locked on you, and the boy’s smiles motivated.

“So,” He began, walking around the stage, glancing at other people in the crowd. “May someone please hand me a dollar?” And he went through the motions, but it wasn’t a dove that appeared in his hands, it was a rose gold iPhone, your iPhone. His eyes darted to your face, a mirthful, more sinister smirk appearing on his lips.  The crowd oohed and ahhed at his magic trick.

Gaping at the boy, you were overcome with anger. Your hands balled into fists as you viewed him, a chuckle parting his lips as he looked down.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized to the crowd, “this was supposed to be,” He snapped his fingers, “a dove.”

And then there was a dove.

And it only got worse from there. It was as if they had no conscious. You were sure they knew you. By the way, they exchanged looks you had known the whole time that Mark found strength in numbers.

And each magic trick he seemed to have one of your belongings, or even worse, Johnny’s. And it wasn’t until you saw them pickpocketing that you felt even angrier.

With your arms crossed, the boys took valuables from other people, and all you could do was stand shocked at their behavior. And you would have said something if it wasn’t for that tall boy who stood next to you, giving more than evil looking glances your way. At least he hid them behind friendly smiles.

And it was all so fast, that you hadn't even realized it ended.

“If you would like to see more of our Freaks, than you would do well to ask around back, we have trailers. But the Marvelous Mark and Knife eater will not be seeing anyone.” And then he caught your eyes. An evil glint in his eyes as he stared at you. “Marvelous Mark, will not see anyone for any reasons.” Who was going to stop you?

And before you could find out, you bolted from the tent, scared that Mark’s friends would watch you, maybe even keep you within the shelter.

Startled by your abrupt exit, Jaehyun jumped. “Madam?” He asked as you stumbled in the direction of those grey trailers. You looked back only once, a cold feeling erupting over your stomach. Your hands felt cold, everything felt cold. And you felt… scared.

“Yes?” You were able to take hold of your voice, despite how you felt.

“Exit’s that way,” he pointed, this time a genuine smile on his face, one that was pleading for you to leave.

“I don’t plan on leaving,” You glanced at his name tag. “Jaehyun… ” His face was washed over in concern, maybe you did look a little unsettled.

“Madam? Are you well?” You were certainly well. Maybe a little angry, but you needed your stuff back, you couldn’t afford to get new ones. But with no reply, you walked off towards the trailer.

Kicking the dirt road from under your feet. Every moment you spent got scarier and scarier.

The lights were melting into the night, like mixed watercolors, intertwining with the stands and people. What was this place? Were the stories real? Were they killers? Theifs? Or were they worse?

There was a feeling of dread as you walked closer to his home. At the very least he owed you your stuff, at the very least. But you guessed that he didn’t really care, by the looks of his jet black hair, cigarettes, and sparkly eyes smirk, he would be one of the notorious boys at your college. But alas. He didn’t go to college, he worked at a carnival.

And slowly you looked out beyond that, glancing at all the vans. Walking closer you stopped right in front of the door, but there was no telling when he could be back.

With curiosity, you reached out for the handle. You knew it was locked. Nevertheless, it was worth a shot. You remembered doing things like this,  sneaking back into your friend's house, into your home when you had a night of fun. But that was in high school, not college, and not now. It wasn’t moral.

“And just what you do you think you’re doing?” Pulling away from the trailer you turned around. He looked the same, this time his black jeans were ripped, and his black shirt was a dirty, with specks of lint coating it.

He stepped closer, a signature smile on his face that you’ve gotten to know so well in only two days. You were flustered, staring at his handsome form, but the only thing you could get out was four words.

“I need my stuff,” You backed away from him. With a smile still on his face, he laughed. And maybe you shouldn’t have been acting so timid, you should have been the one mad, but in a place where you had nobody with you, it was a bad idea to do anything rash.

“Sweetheart, I can’t give you your phone.” His presence was that of a fly, pesky, annoying, and buzzing in your ear. “You know that.”

“And why not? That’s stealing.”

“And?” Playing games with you was a bad idea. You weren’t here to conversate, you weren’t to laugh, you were here for your stuff. “You know… I really misjudged you. I didn’t think you would come back.”

“You have all my things,” You stepped back. “My credit cards, my student ID, everything. I need my phone, and I won’t leave until I get it back.”

Without a response, he moved towards his trailer and took out a set of keys. He glanced back at you once, a small smile falling on his face. Jamming the small silver key into the door and opening it up, glancing back at you, before climbing the stairs.

“Are you coming?” He called from inside. And it wasn’t your first reaction to go in after him, but you did anyway. Trailing behind him as you entered the small trailer.

It was quaint. A homey trailer that suited the boy. It was minimalistic, but the endless cabinets and boxes probably hid all the things he had stolen from other people.

You sat down unsure of yourself, watching as he silently dropped a tea kettle on the stove filled with water and turned the gas on.

It was as if he wanted to play with you, to play house, to play hostage, whatever sick game he wanted.

“So uh… do you live alone?” But you instantly regretted it.  Wrong thing to say. But you asked about it anyway. He seemed to think the same way, except he was more skeptical. He turned around, leaning on the counter as he glanced at you, a snicker leaving his lips.

“Yeah, since I’m the main act. Other people usually have two to four to a trailer.” You nodded, drumming your hands on the table awkwardly as you wished for the small talk to end. You were here for your things, not to drink tea and eat biscuits. Y/N! Get up! But you didn’t listen, you knew you should of, but something intrigued you. And that had been happening a lot. Curiosity getting the best of you. There was a deep yearning for adventure, a deep longing for learning new things. And you wanted to know him, regardless of how deep down that thought was, it was still there, hidden under miles and miles of anger.

But you needed to be responsible, and you knew to march into a place that wasn't safe was far from it.

“I need my things, Mark,”  you said for almost the third time. He leaned forward, pushing himself off the counter and towards the table.

“I know sweetheart. But I haven’t had fun like this in a long time.” He fell back into the chair across from you, biting his small lip, and glancing at you only once. “It’s not every day a freak can see a pretty girl.”

“You’re not a freak,” You deadpanned, watching as his first converted to amusement with every word you said. “You’re a lousy sideshow magician. And rather pathetic.”

“For someone desperate for her things, you’re awfully rude.” Using your name only made you upset, seeing that he had access to all your personal information, and if he found out your phone passcode (although you wouldn’t put it past him to even hack it), there would be even more of an exposition for information.

“A freak is a  person, animal, or plant with an unusual physical abnormality,” He said, leaning in as if the conversation was getting anything but annoying. He seemed genuinely excited, and it was creeping you out.

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the rickety chair and narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m surprised, is that a Textbook definition? Cause you’re not a freak, you’re a petty thief.”

“Never did that textbook definition state it has to be an abnormality commonly seen. Sometimes it’s hidden by clothing,” he shrugged, leaning back slowly, a smirk forming on his face as he watched your reaction.

Was he talking about his—?

“I could show you sometime.” He exuded a sense of hilarity, knowing that his teasing was somehow getting to you.

“Um... no thanks.”

“But that’s no fun,” he pouted, pushing himself from the chair and towards the steaming kettle. Ease him into the idea, you thought. Maybe if you got him to sympathize with you, perhaps if he saw you as a typical college girl things would change, you just needed to be smart.

If your face wouldn't give you away.

But of course, this was a young boy, you shouldn’t have expected anything less than this. “Oh c’mon Y/N! It was a little funny.”

“No, not really, I’d rather have a normal conversation.”

He shrugged deadly, looking at you to go on, his boyish ways showing a little more.

“How long have you been doing this?” You blurted out, not as casual as you would have liked. But nonetheless, the question interested him. Something about it seemed to catch his attention. Letting the tea seep into the boiled water he turned around, being the in same position he was a minutes before.

“What an interesting question?” He said, letting a grin claim his features. But he got serious quick. “I started training at ten, started performing at seventeen, I’m nineteen now.”

So he was young, much younger than you expected; nonetheless, you didn’t know what to expect from him. But one thing did confuse you.

“Why would it take so long to master tricks. You’re a magician, not a doctor.” His familiar chuckle left his lips as he turned back around to watch the tea. It was odd to you how this boy had been training since ten, it just didn’t make sense. He had school, not this. Finally, a sincere, genuine smile flashed through his face, one that showed off his small teeth and thin lips.

“Think of it as a family business. There’s a lot of secrets to learn.” You had always liked secrets, you liked knowing things you shouldn’t. That being said, you had a loud mouth. Especially when it came to people you didn’t know. A curiosity welled up in your stomach as you stared at his body.

“And what’s the secret?” he picked up two white mugs, bringing it over to the table, his mannerism being… polite.

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told… especially if I told a girl like you.” You cocked your head to the side, his comment proving to only interest you further.

“And what would that mean? And on the topic… don’t you get bored of being in a carnival? You are young, so why do this then be out at parties and college?”

“It means, one, Chittaphon—Ten, he tells me to stay away from people like you. Too curious for your own good. Always trying to stick your nose into things it doesn't belong. Always trying to interfere. And two, because I chose this life, and my father chose this life. I can still have my fun if that’s what you’re wondering. We have vacation and days off Y/N.”

With his long explanation, you took the appropriate time to think it over. Naturally, it was that the first time ever properly talking, and you wanted to analyze everything you possibly could. But you had realized just as you were analyzing him, he was analyzing you, and he was better at it.

Sitting back down on the chair, he took a long sip of his tea. But when you tried, it was boiling hot. But instead of drinking it, you let it warm your cold hands as you wrapped them around the glass.

“Than why invite me here? It’s very counterintuitive, don’t you think?” He flashed you a toothless smile. Setting the cup back down on the table.

“All the things Chittaphon lectures us about, are the very things that make us feel alive. There’s something intoxicating about it—about breaking the rules, the rules you’ve known your whole life. And you’re everything the rules keep me from.”  He was smart, a very bright kid. It’s a shame he didn’t utilize it and go to college, he would have done well.

“That’s insightful… do you want to tell me anything else?  Maybe about your family.” He tilted his head, you could see him thinking, perhaps long and hard about Chittaphon's rules. Maybe even harder on if your intentions were true, which they weren’t. But there was a moment when your curiosity was genuine, and the conversation wasn’t for the sake of your stuff.

“I was born in Canada and moved to South Korea when I was eight. My dad had a job opportunity. He was trying to move this Carnival to the states. So I went along,” He began, taking one chaste sip of his tea as if he was getting ready for a story. “This is the family business. My mom wanted college, but dad wanted the business.”

Odd. Why would he move a Carnival to the states? Didn’t make much sense to you. But the Traveling part at least alluded to it being international. But at the moment you decided against mentioning it

“Do you speak Korean?”

“Depends,” he smiled, leaning in again a smirk on his lips. “Will it turn you on?”

You couldn’t help but softly giggle. Despite him being an asshole, he was charming, insanely, so it was most likely why Mark got away with his bullshit.

“Most certainly not,” You said back, finally being able to take a sip of the tea. It was fruity, something you would expect from him. “But,” You quickly started, “is your family business stealing? I just don't understand.”

“Secrets, Sweetheart,” He singsonged. “Those are secrets.”

You nodded slowly, finding his life more interesting.

“Did you do schooling in your teen years?”

“You’re awfully curious.”

“You live an interesting life.”

“You look pretty trying to get information from me,” he said, taking the mug from you. “You’re not getting your stuff tonight sweetheart. Try again later.”

And maybe, you thought, he wasn’t giving it to you tonight, cause he wanted you to come back. You were sure if you asked, he would agree, he wasn’t one to lie. He was candid, you liked that.

“I figured,” You said, standing up quickly and looking down at him.  “But can I still have it back.” And suddenly you realize you’d just given away what you had been doing.

“I’m not feeling nice right now. Try again later Sweetheart.” And without arguing, you pushed your way through his disgusting trailer and left. Being sure to slam the door on the way out. “Don’t worry, you have seventeen more days to change my mind.”

October 12th, 6th day since Carnival arrival, 14 days until departure

It had been a lousy night. Notwithstanding you wanted your stuff, something about Mark and the Carnival fascinated you more than it should. The deeper you thought about what he told you, the more it didn’t make sense, and the more you knew there were things hidden.

Then the more you wanted to find out.

Of course, when you got home that night, you made a beeline for your room, trying to ignore Lisa and her lingering questions.

Johnny had found his license mysteriously, claiming it was on the top of his dresser the whole time. But that just didn’t make any sense. Strange things were happening.

There was a smile on your face as a happy mood settled over your body. The air smells of the sweet candy apples and cotton candy. Young children rushed around, going from game to game, ride to ride, tent to tent. Regardless of the thievery, you at least had respect for the fun it gave children. It was the day to vacation from reality, the day when peculiar freaks walked the grounds on an old October night.

“You were late,” A cold voice came from behind you. With a slow reaction, you cautiously turned around, your eyes grazing the man's body. He was familiar, yet you couldn’t put your finger on who he was.

“Excuse me?” You asked, a silence falling over the fairgrounds. It was the type of silence that fell before you were stabbed in the back before something terrible happened. Grey clouds hung thick in the black sky, as the full moon glowed a tint of red. Something didn’t feel right.

“Mark—You weren’t there. You were late.” For his show? What did this man mean? You can’t talk to someone in code and expect them to understand.

“For his show?” You had wondered why someone would be so mad that you missed a show that happened nearly every day.

“Yes, Ma’am.” You shrugged at his answer, gently raking your fingers through your hair. His voice was timid, but his presence was anything but.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” With a gentle, yet deceiving smile, he stuck out his hand, beckoning you to shake his hand. But all you did was look at it, wondering if it was a smart move.

“I’m Ten.” You nodded, your memory flooding back to the mention Mark gave him, and both nights he announced the freaks onto the stage. Instantly you shook his hand.  “Where do you work?” He asked, his head cocking to the side, his eyes narrowing at you. “Mark told me a library.”

“I’m a college student, but I work part-time as a waitress.” Dumbass. Mark didn’t even speak to Ten about you, why would he bring the place you worked, let alone a library. Nevertheless,  he nodded, his eyes twinkling with curiosity as you spoke to him.

“So why have you decided to come fives days in a row to the same show, to see the same person.” You cocked your head to the side at the odd expression. You had remembered what Mark said, and with that in mind, you certainly did not trust him. And with the way his cold voice spoke to you, it was more evident than ever now.

“Nothing. I don’t see why what I do is your business.”

“Cause what you’re doing concerns, Mark.”

Fair enough, but that didn’t change the fact he had terrible social skills and was a little less than kind to you. Kicking the dirt under your feet, you tried at all costs to avoid his stare, until…

A firm, but gentle breeze tousled your hair and pinked your cheeks. And with the wind slowly picking up, Ten’s unsettling stare, and the autumn leaves in the air, you were saved.

You had thought the voice was merely the wind, but it wasn’t, it was Mark

“Chittaphon… What are you…? ” And with a lift of your head, Mark realized it was you he was talking too. A soft and mumbled, “oh,” Left his lips as he saw you, a shocked expression on his face, the only time you had ever seen him such a brash display of his feelings.

With a faked, prepossessing smile, he turned to Mark, bowing to him as he mumbled something in a foreign language.

“You two have fun tonight,” he glanced at you, letting Mark push past him and to your side. And with a gust of wind, you were propelled forward into walking.

And with a long sigh, the constant flickering of different colored lights, and the cold breeze, he turned towards you.

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know he would find out,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets and easing up on his pace. “I got a little too excited and told Jeno, my friend.” A soft smile illuminated your face, at his comment.

“Excited about what?” And slowly a smirk appeared, more of a soft smile, but the fragments of his familiar smirk still prominent.

In the days you were able to talk to Mark, you had found out quite a bit of thing. There were things about this family, and things about him, although those things were picked up, not told. Like his sweet sense of humor, something almost innocent about it. And the way whenever he let himself laugh, he would bite his lip to stop, trying to show you he was, perhaps, cool.

You were only yards away from his small trailer when he began to elaborate. The same children and families noisily running around the loud fairgrounds.

“Your feeble attempts on getting these back,” he lifted his hand up, your phone resting gently in his grasp. But with a snap of his fingers, they were gone, and a laugh falling from his lips as he saw your reaction.

He had a cute laugh.

“How are they feeble if you’re laughing and smiling. Seems like I’m pretty successful.” And slowly his mood changed, scoffing at your remark and making it to his home.

“When will you learn to keep your mouth shut, you always ruin a happy mood.” And then he had his moments. The annoyingly teenagerish moments that made you want to stab him with a tea kettle (if that was even possible).

“I’m going to college, and you’re working at a Carnival.” And without another word, he was opening the door to his trailer and pulling you in.

“You’re right sweetheart since you’re so smart, tell me something only a college student would know.” Flocking to the familiar chair you sat last time, you fell back into the chair and observed him further. His movements were so boyish, and not at all how he portrayed himself.

“I know what hard work is—”

“And, just when I thought I would get a good answer,” He spoke, facing his old refrigerator, and picking out only a couple things. “I still have your stuff,” He pointed out “Now—What do you major in? we've seen each other three times, and I don't even know.”

“Forensic science, you know, crime scene evidence, DNA, all that stuff.” He nodded, leaning on the counter and narrowing his eyes.

“Explains your close affiliation with the law… can I ask why?” And it wasn’t a hard question, you knew exactly what you wanted to be in this field.

“If someone is killed, I want to help put that killer away. And If someone is wrongfully accused, I want to help set them free. Forensic science is the core piece of evidence in cases.” He cocked his head to the side, a thought written on his face.

“So you catch killers?”

“Well, yes, most of the time, I could do other things, but usually that.” He moved towards the chair across from you, sitting down and turning towards you.

“So you don’t have anything to do with drugs, heists, shootouts, embezzling... “ You were confused by his question, it seemed obvious to what you did.

“You may never know when you may be needed in this field,” You said a little too excited. “You never know when you’ll need the type of science.”  But with a clever smirk, he turned towards you, a mischievous glint to understand.

“Help me understand Y/N, please,” You leaned back, the old chair creaking under your weight. With a raise of your eyebrow, you expected. You knew he understood, and you would even take it as far to say he knew when you told him, but still, you obliged.

“Create a scenario.”

With a smile, he started. “So let’s say my girlfriend and me…” He watched your expression, seeing that he got none from you. “I’m a visual learner, act it out for me.”

Unsure of yourself, you slowly got up, standing in place.

“Let’s say,” He began again. “She meets me where I sit.” You meet him where he sits, standing in front of him.

And you were suddenly hyper-aware of how close you two were. Suddenly hyper aware how desperate you were to get your stuff back.

And slowly his finger runs up the back of your thighs, his eyes meeting yours as he continued up your leg, squeezing on the skin to only disturb you.

And with slowed breathing, you exhaled, a little too deeply, enough for him to hear.

“And let’s say, her hand is in my hair,” He waited patiently for you act out what he wanted, gently raking your fingers through his hair, just as he slowly scratched the back on your thighs.

His hair was soft, softer than you would have expected from someone like, so brazen and impudent.

“I have her clothe fibers on my fingernails, she has my DNA under hers… but let’s say… hypothetically of course, that someone suddenly comes in and shoots her, how would you prove that I didn't shoot her.”

You heartbeat picked up at the question as you thought. What could you do? You could start by touching, taking your hands off of him. And so you instantly pulled back.

“It depends on a factor of things. If anyone saw this person shoot her or flee the scene or if anyone had wanted her dead. If the boyfriend ever owned a gun that matched the bullet. And if there a serial number on the bullet. All I could do was inspect the bullet wound. The entrance and exit, and in the angle in which it entered. If your story aligned, you would have a good case.”

You stepped back, his fingers leaving your thighs, a tingling sensation from where he once touched you.

But you had seemed uncomfortable, though you weren't. Not under his touch.

“You’re smart,” He said, watching as you sat back down. “I would do well to have you around.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed at the question that felt stupid for him and laughed.

“It’s with a brain like yours, It would help me in my—”

“In your unlawful acts.”

“Precisely.”

You tipped your head to the side, thinking over what he was telling you.

"Why would I do that?"

He was strangely forthcoming with information.  Perhaps he was overly trusting, or he had an idea up his sleeve. He didn’t seem stupid, but he didn’t seem particularly logical.

You sat up, folding your arms and intently staring. “Why do you share so much with me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell someone.”

“No. Because you’re either scared, seduced or too interested in stopping.”

Which, the interested part was true, but it couldn’t be that he couldn’t actually believe that. So instead of accepting your answer, you constricted your eyes, letting him know you didn't believe it, and he opened up a little deeper. “It also gets pretty lonely if I'm honest. I know everyone here, so having someone new to talk too is cool.”

“So you’ve never spoken to a girl before? You’ve never done anything normal? You’re just a freak.”

“No. I still have sex, I still talk to girls, I do everything… Just in different ways… You could even say I do more.”

“So… Mark… What else do you want to know?”

The grey hue of the cloudy sky did nothing but put Mark in a lousy mood. And with the rain coming down in heavy droplets, it hurt to even come outside. But today was perfect. According to Chittaphon, that is.

With the thin material of his windbreaker. He did what he was told, and transferred the boxes into their trailers, or decoy trailers.

There was nobody at the Carnival surprisingly, it had been raining so hard that he didn’t doubt the reason why. So instead of playing the cover, Ten sent everyone to work.

“How’s your girl?” A voice called from behind him, the pounds of wet mud cracking as his two friends ran beside him.  It wasn’t likely that people asked about Mark’s private affairs, but it seemed that this was a special occasion.

Mark chuckled silently, turning to Jaehyun and patting him on the back.

“She’s not my girl,” He said, continuing to walk away.

“This would be the fourth day she’s seen you, so have you fucked or… ?” Lucas had always been candid and used his candor carelessly.

There's something about you that made him feel a little more normal, but not in an annoying way. He had thought your energy uniquely fit his, each the perfect complement of the other. And he liked how smart you were, how you so readily told him about your family.

“I don’t think she likes me in that way,” He dismissed, continuing to walk with a head down. But Mark didn’t care, he just wanted you. Even if you're saying yes only for your things, he still wanted you.

And maybe so. Perhaps at first, he thought there could be a twinge of attraction from you. He quickly realized you were doing it to get your stuff back and that there was no desire to have him whatsoever. Sadly for him, it was putting him in a bad mood

“How can she not like you? She keeps coming back,” Lucas points out, folding his arms as he pulled his drenched sweatshirt hoodie over his head.

And he thought that too, the night he touched you. The night you allowed him to run his finger up your thighs. But somehow he might have been too clouded by lust to see that you didn’t want him.

“She’s coming back for her stuff, not because she likes me or wants to have sex with me.”

“She looks excited when I let her into the shows,” Jaehyun pointed out, trying hard to avoid the muddy parts of the ground. “So maybe she finds pleasure in coming, and not just for her things. That’s an excuse for her to come.”

But Mark still had trouble believing it, and he had a hard time grappling with the fact that he let himself grow fond of you. That wasn’t like him. Usually, he would meet a girl, fuck, and then travel again. Occasionally stopping to do pickups and smuggles.

“She’s smart,” He turned to them, earning a snicker and head shakes. “No,” he said. “She’s smart. Forensic Science is her major, and she wants to study forensic pathology. And her family's like mine, she has friends, she’s cool, people like her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened at the mention of your major, turning to Mark with a cautious frown.

“You shouldn’t let Chittaphon know that he’ll do anything to keep her away. You know how this works.” Of course, he knew. They weren’t just a carnival, they were dangerous, sometimes Mark forgot how dangerous he was. Maybe it was his age.

“But I like—”

“Mark— you can't.”

“I know.”

With a crash of thunder, they all started running for cover.

October 14th, 8th day since Carnival arrival, 12 days until departure

“You’re leaving soon,” You said, making sure to avoid the muddy areas until you could successfully get to his ugly trailer.

“You gonna miss me, Sweetheart?”

It would be hard to miss someone you just met, but fortunately for him, yes, you would. You had talked to him, and surprisingly you were able to be honest with him, like your personal therapist. A handsome therapist.

And suddenly it wasn’t becoming all about your things, it was becoming more about this boy. Who had been forced into this life, who wanted to go to college, which was normal like you?

“If I say yes, what would you do?”

He chuckled, grabbing your hand as a mob of kids pushed past you two and towards one of the freak show tents as it started to rain.

“I could think of a few things, sweetheart.” A suggestive smile stretched on his lips as he pushed you in front of him. And with a hand on the small of your back, he led you closer to his trailer. You knew this wasn’t going to be a typical visit. And if you were honest, you wouldn’t be closed off to it.

“Where are you traveling too next?” You asked softly, letting him cut in front of you and pull out his key.

You had finally realized what was so interesting about him. He was so ordinary, but his situation wasn’t. And even with this average side, he was still mysterious, there was still secrets he had yet to reveal. Maybe it was his stealing, or perhaps it was his black hair. Whatever it was, it pulled you in.

“The state over,” He deadpanned, pushing the door open and allowing you to escape the rain first.

The only thing that left your mouth was a mumbled oh before he flopped down on his bed and left you to sit awkwardly at the little table towards.

“That’s cool,” You offered, He moaned as one of his bones cracked, surely meaning he had done something before your meeting. Looking up irreverently he made a face as if you were stupid.

“Aren’t you coming over?” To his bed? No of course not, that would be inappropriate. Did you ask yourself unsuitable for who? It wasn’t against the law to lay next to him, it wasn’t anything of the sort, it was just… you knew you shouldn’t think of.

“No, I’d rather stay here,” You laughed awkwardly, an eye on his lithe body as he let his head fall back down. But he didn’t care, he never really cared.

“Come over here, Y/N,” And usually you would object, but this time, you didn’t want to.

When you were younger, or perhaps a freshman. When you liked someone you were just like a school girl, looking at shallow things with shallow ideas. But this? This was an infatuation. His voice, his thin pressed lips, black hair, was all you could think about sometimes.

But paired with his looks, there was a yearning to be normal. And you wanted that. You wanted to fix him in some sort of fucked up way, but you wanted him to break you. To ruin your life as you knew it. You found solace that he couldn’t be linked to all your friends, that way even if it ended badly, it would save you humiliation.

Your appetite, your friend life, it all dwindled. But him, no.

“Y/N,” He called again, pulling you from your thoughts. And on cue, like he wanted, you slowly got up, shifting uncomfortably in your sweatshirt as you neared his small bed. It was only a few steps away, you could practically make tea from his bed if you wanted.  

You could see yourself making breakfast from his bed, but it would only be after you stayed the night.

“Yes?” You stood over him, analyzing the facial expression that crossed his face. But he stared back, possibly doing the same thing.

“Sit down Sweetheart.” And so you sat, face forward as he stared at the side your face, the stare so intent that you swore it was burning through your skin. You could only hope that you wouldn’t look back. “When I go away? And you get your stuff…” he trailed off, his question not yet being asked. “What would you have learned from this?”

The question had a joking manner to it, but you could tell it was serious, he really did want to know.

“I would have learned about you,” you shrugged, turning towards him and smiling softly. And he giggled a boyish one.

“What did you learn?” he asked with a smile, his eyes meeting yours. “What’s your favorite thing that you learned, you’ve seen me for six days, I’m interested.”

Had it been that long, did you really start to like him only after six days? It amazed you, he amazed you. But out of all the things he shared, there was one thing that made you smile. His kidlike ways did nothing but amuse you more than it should of.

“The fact that you want to be a rapper.” You couldn’t help but wear a big dopey grin as you said that, soft giggles leaving your lips.

“Okay but I don’t see how that funny,” He chuckled at you, a smile crossing his face as he saw you. Mark couldn’t help but feel a little more powerful with you around.

“You can’t rap, Mark,” You side eyed him knowingly. But of course, you had never heard him rap before so you wouldn’t know. “Do you want to give me a sample of The Marvelous Mark, rapper, and magician.” He glanced up at you, a swell of confidence running through his body.

“And UGH it’s long ass ride—”

And that all you needed to rile in a fit of laughter, maybe you didn’t give him a big chance, but he could have started with a better verse than “Long ass ride.”

“Hey!” He cried. “I couldn’t even finish! And why were you laughing so loud, you’re gonna wake up the whole damn neighborhood!”

And somehow over the past three days, you found yourself joking with the boy, being more and more like a friend than an enemy, and like you had known so many times before. This wasn’t just about your stuff. It was about him.

“Long ass ride? Do you like me? Or are you being suggestive just for the fun of it? Cause I don’t know.”

He turned towards you, a slight bit of shock apparent in his appearance as he glanced over at you, he was trying to see if you were serious, and maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, you were trying to figure that out for yourself.

“Does this answer your question?”

“Hmm?” You asked, turning your head toward him.

And you didn’t expect it, at least not that brashly. But when you looked, his willowy body began to relax, his hand palming himself through his jeans as he gazed at you.

“Does this answer your question, sweetheart?”

His comment wasn't out of character, and his actions weren’t either. But you were too surprised to realize what was actually going on. At that moment, your mind could no longer formulate any more thoughts, and it was all on overdrive.  And with a soft groan, he grabbed your hand, glancing into your eyes retrospectively.

“Go on,” he said, voice soft and tense.

Unsure of your actions, you let your learned muscle memory. You watched his face, listened to his groans. If this ever happened, you never would expect it to happen so calmly, maybe it would happen amidst a fight or tragic situation, but no. Not this.

“Fuck Y/N—“

He looked up at you, sitting up suddenly, pushing your hand harder onto his clothed member. You wilted under Mark's stare. His serene brown eyes seemed to only appear larger and brighter as he stared more. In the gap between his eyes and yours, a battle was fought. But when he placed his soft hand on your jaw, it was him who won.

His lips moved with urgency, as soon as you kissed back, he grabbed your face with both his hands, pushing you back on his soft bed. Your hands took fistfuls of his long hair, all the pent up frustration and tension had come out. His hands gripped your waist, pushing you down into his mattress. He panted after breaking away from your lips. His lips finding your neck within seconds. Nipping at the exposed skin quickly, as he took that moment to mark you.

And he knew what he was doing, just as you thought he might have been inexperienced, he surprised you.

You liked guys full of surprises.

He bit down on your neck softly, kissing the marks over. Taking your supple surface in between his teeth, he decorated your skin. A whispered moan escaped you and his lips curved into a smirk.

“Mark! What the fuck?”

You looked back at him, this time a little hurt that he would do anything like that.

One minute you’re making out, and the next he’s grabbing you and pushing you up. He looked down puzzled, pondering over his actions.

“You should have never done that.”

“I didn’t do anything! You’re the one who made the first move.” You balled your hands into fists tightly, trying to contain the anger that pumped through you. With teeth gritted and knuckles white, you glared at him. Your look burning through him faster than anything Mark had felt before. Your face was red with suppressed rage, from your stuff being stolen, from him embarrassing you, from him making you care. “Why the hell would you make me care, to just push me away!?”

But instead of answering, he pulled your stuff from his jacket and roughly handed them to you. A look of shock crossed your face. Was it all going to end? Just like that. And of course you knew when you got home, you would be relieved, but you also knew the next day you would feel empty. Like all the feelings didn’t matter. And you never found yourself to be someone who wanted sex, but this time you did.

“Just take your shit and leave.”

In awe, you scooped up your things. Mark’s face contorted into a confused glare as he looked at you. 

“I don’t understand—”

“Just go.”

The raining didn’t stop that night. It didn’t stop at all. Instead, the Thunder got worse, and Mark was beginning to become more and more restlessness. The thick blackened clouds were dragged down by the heavy ran that assaulted the roof of his trailer. And if that didn’t make matters worse, the fact that he lost you was also pretty devastating to him.

What were you doing on the other side? Was it raining for you too? The rain seemed to match his mood. Disasterious.

The sound of emptiness was disrupted by the loud boom of thunder. But nobody paid it mind but Mark.

“He’s sad about his girlfriend,” Jaehyun said, looking over at Doyoung and snickering. “She won’t be coming back here anymore.” If it weren’t for Jaehyun, Mark wouldn’t have pushed you away. He wouldn’t be able to offer you anything, and if he could possibly get out of this operation, it could start a lot of trouble with Chittaphon.

“C’mon Mark,” Doyoung raised his bottle, “you fuck any girl that walks by, there isn’t anything different.” But to Mark, he found someone that listened to him talk, and laughed at his jokes, and to be totally real, there wasn’t a lot of people who did that. “How would you even keep a stable girlfriend? Isn’t she married to the law? Wait until she finds out were the whole crimina—”

“I get it Doyoung,” Mark hushed, his Korean flowing freely from his tongue. “But I intend to have kids. I intend to get married. And me choosing her, I chose with intentionality.”

With his final lines, Jisung snorted from Mark’s bed. The Fortnite on his phone drowning out his voice.

“You act like she’s yours to choose. She’s her own person.” 

Doyoung looked as if he had enough of Mark’s antics, glancing at his watch only once before eyeing the door.

“Maybe it’s for the best then,” Jaehyun offered, trying to console his younger friend. But Mark didn’t feel as if it was for the better, he felt as if this would hurt him in the end. The one that got away. “It’s not like you were gonna marry her and live on the hills. It’ll all pass in time.”

It wasn’t likely that you and Mark would ever end up together, but you weren’t talking about the future,  Mark was talking about right now. You needed each other right now.

“I never wanted this life,” Mark softly mumbled to his friends, causing them to stare wide-eyed at the drunk boy.

“It’s the cigs and alcohol talking,” Jisung blurted out, his face still stuffed in a phone as he played on his games.

“I don’t think you guys understand. I’ve realized shit—heavy shit, and it wasn’t until I realized how little I know about, life, ourselves, and the world that I finally perceived it… I wanted to go to college guys, now look what I’m doing.”

And with a laugh, Doyoung looked up at him.

“Mark, you like hurting people, you like stealing from people, you like lugging around those boxes, and it’s because you love money, you love being in danger. In the summer what do we do? We go all over the place, we do as many drugs as we want, and you love it. If you go to college what would you do? You’re not going to marry that dumb girl, you aren’t smart enough for college, and you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

The sad part was that he was right. He did like doing all those things, and he didn’t honestly know what he was asking for, all he knew what that he wanted. And maybe in college, he wouldn’t be able to survive without it.

“You’re just bored, I’m sure Chittaphon would think of something to do, more heists to plan, more drugs to sell, he could even change the whole operative cover up. He cares about you a lot Mark, don’t take what you have for granted.”

Mark liked it there, he liked hurting people, he liked firing guns and the thrill of almost being caught by the police, he loved it all.

And maybe that was enough to give up on you.

Maybe it was the way he sent you away, or perhaps it was the way he didn’t. Regardless, you found yourself wanting to come back and see what actually happened. It had been three days since you last saw him, and you still couldn’t pinpoint the reason why you wanted to see him so bad. It was unlike any other feeling you felt.

You hadn't told Lisa yet, you hadn’t told Johnny, all you did was go to class in the morning and sulk the rest of the day. Indisputably, you wanted to go back, but consciously, you knew it was a bad idea. And it all stemmed from Ten.

The rain didn’t stop either, so getting into your car, you weren’t surprised by the thick clouds of grey. Even if the Carnival was having a day off like the schedule said, you were still going to go, despite the rain coming down in waves.

Despite the car ride feeling tedious and long, the rain calms you. The sound, and the aesthetic of it washing down the windows. But you were going there to say your goodbye, and find out only why he pushed you away, nothing more.

Meanwhile, Mark, he took advantage of his day off and had decided to stay in and escape the rain, calling his parents, watching TV. He asked to be left alone.  And nobody dared to walk outside that day, not even Ten, they all stayed inside, their electric heaters being the only thing to warm them.

With the sinking of your car into the muddy ground, you decided to park somewhere where the long willow trees cast over the parking space, leaving them untouched.  

And through the rain, you could vaguely see the carnival, and beyond the entrance, you could see the top of the red and white tents. There we no colorful lights, there was nothing there indicating that it was an in-use Carnival, and if anything, it made it look… creepy.

But instead of waiting around, you started the cold, wet trek towards the empty Carnival.

The air smelt of fresh pine and rain, and as you took your first steps into the entrance, you were careful to make sure nobody saw you. If they did, they would think it’s one of them.

With your black hoodie pulled over your hair. You could see the trailers, this time all their lights open signaling people were inside and most likely resting on this rainy day. And you could see Mark's; in the farthest area.  

But even then, there was a jump in your step and adrenaline pumping through your veins as you desired to get closer and closer to Mark.

Pointedly, you weren't sure how he was going to react, but you knew he would at least let you in.

Standing in front of the familiar home, you raised your hand, pounding on the door three times. It took some time, but you heard shuffling, and that could only mean he was getting up.

It wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for, with his eyes widening comically and all he did was stare at you. He roughly ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Pushing the door wider for you and walking away, he welcomed you into his home.  

Awkwardly, you stepped in, watching as he stood in front of his bed, arms crossed and eyes on everything but you.

And with a sigh, he began.

“I told you, it isn’t a good idea for you to be here,” He began, and he’d become distant, and only over three days he had been this way, it baffled you.

“You told me you didn’t want this life,” You mirrored his actions, crossing your arms just as he was doing.

“I lied, and never actually cared for you or cared for the life you had.” You didn’t know why, but it was as if he was pushing you away when you were the thing he wanted. He did it, so you knew he was lying. He wanted you to know he was lying.

Mark had realized why Chittaphon didn’t like people like you, and it was because you asked questions, you made others ask questions, and you knew what to say and how to say it. And with the words you had spoken to him, Mark was no longer a magician, he was Mark.

He wasn’t Chittaphon's puppet, he was Mark.

“You can’t force people into having feelings, and you can’t deny when they have them.” Mark stopped, glancing at you once, before averting his gaze onto his bed.

"I have a job to do," he pointed down, "I made a commitment to this place."

"What about you? What have you made for yourself?"

And there you were again, instilling the only thing Mark wanted to stay away from. Doubt.

“I’ll do you a favor just this once,” His voice grew early low, his fingers delicately pulling over his sweatshirt. But the words confused you, cooking your head in incertitude.

Walking closer to you, his chest touched yours, pushing himself on to you.

With his hands snaking around your waist, you felt him.

He took your phone from your pocket, his chest brush against yours as he gazed down at your face.

“I'll take this one last time.”

Mark himself didn’t know why or what he was doing. But seeing you come here, you arrive in a soaking wet sweatshirt confirmed one thing for him. And it was changed, and that maybe Doyoung and Chittaphon were wrong. He wasn’t meant to be here, and it was you who made him realize it.

"You know what to do, sweetheart."

Within a split second his lips were on yours. You had only kissed him once before, but the two of you were so simplistic. Lust was the fuel for every part of your body.

He grabbed your waist roughly, setting phone set down on his kitchen counter as he pulled you closer to him. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. Your hands dangling around his neck as you both stepped back together.

And even harder, he pushed your waist into the counter, his hands running up and down the sides of your waist as you continued to kiss, slipping his tongue in at the opportune moment.

The pattern of the rain created a calm feeling in his room, letting you fall deeper into the moment.

“You came back,” he mumbled against your lips, placing chaste kisses there as he grabbed your ass.

“I couldn’t stay away,” you admitted breathlessly. And that's the truth, you couldn't stay away. Somehow you started out with hatred, to an unfamiliar, irreplaceable bond.

His hands ran up your thighs as he pulled you onto the small counter, his body fitting perfectly in between your legs. Kissing your lips gently. His hands wandered up the insides of your jean clas thighs. His gentle touch was nothing you could expect from him. Letting out a soft moan, Mark’s thin lips quirked up into a natural smirk, moving his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, he peeled it off roughly, throwing the wet material down on his table.

A white t-shirt was all that was left, discovering you had gone braless, the amusement in his eyes twinkled with the utmost excitement. He pulled your t-shirt off immediately, but oddly enough his gaze wasn’t on your breasts, he just pulled you into his chest and continued a heated kiss.

You were bare in front of him, doing something you never thought you would do when you first met him. He grabbed your bare waist, his hands smooth against your supple skin. His hands traveled up to knead your breasts gently, a moan falling from your lips as the sensation rippled through your body. With kisses still heated, he managed to mumble something onto your lips.

“Out of all the people… I get you,” His eyes hooded as he soft kisses traveled down your neck, nipping at the skin and retracing his steps like he did days before. “I got lucky.” You ultimately didn’t know how you and Mark would end up. If you stayed in touch, date, or never see each other again, but regardless you couldn’t let him leave without doing this.

“Didn’t we both” you mumbled before dipping he dipped his head into your chest, encasing one of the hardening nubs with his lips. Sucking on one nipple, he toyed with the other one, softly pulling and circling it. And your hands grabbed a fistful of his hair in pleasure, moans dripping in lust falling from your lips.

“Mark… hurry… please” You whimpered, a desperate tone in your voice.

“Let me savor this,” His mumbled. And there was something about the comment that gave you a sinking feeling. He had to savor this moment, there was a finality about it. Like he wouldn’t see you again.

But with one more kiss to your lips, he pulled you from the counter and pushed you towards his bed, letting your head dip down on his pillow gently as he hovered over your body, his breathing light and feathery.

Every inch of your body craved him, and as he pushed you down on the bed, your excitement rose. Unzipping your jeans slowly, he pulled the rough material down your legs, leaving you virtually naked in front of him, his eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Stealthily, he found the moment to take off his shirt, coming back down and hooking his slender fingers underneath your thong. Your stomach filled with anticipation once you saw the dreamlike smile crossed his face.

Gripping onto your thighs, he tugged your legs over his shoulder his knees. A long sigh left your lips as if this was everything you wanted.

“Can I?” He looked up, waiting for your blessing before he did anything else, his eyes sparkling with elation as he glanced at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. His breath washed against your core, as he pulled your legs open wider. It worked him up so much, for a moment he forgot that he even asked for your consent.

“Yes… please.” You bit your lip as you felt his tongue lick a clean stripe up your folds, swirling it around your swollen clit in small circles.

“Mark!” You gasped, your finger delicately massaging his scalp as you pushed him closer into you.

He hummed against your core, pressing his tongue against your most sensitive area. You had thought he was merely a beginner… a virgin for lack of better words, but he was not. Certainly not.

And wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucked, stretched the skin gently with his fingers to get a better angle of the area. He had you moaning terribly loud within minutes of starting.  He continued to suck, your walls squeezing around nothing as you reached higher. But you weren’t quite there yet, and though you could feel the tingling throughout your whole body, a white-hot sensation taking over your stomach, you needed more.  It had been so long since someone touched you like this before, and you were taking advantage.

And without warning, Mark effortlessly slipped his digits inside you, pumping as he sucked on your core, curling them upwards to rub against the sweetest spot. With the sensation of his mouth and fingers, you could feel yourself losing control, gripping his hair tight enough for it to hurt, moaning so someone else could hear. And you loved it, you loved every single thing he did.

“I’m getting closer,” You said gently, not being able to trust your own voice under the circumstances. Your legs grew limp in his grasp, and your body was reacting to his, shaking untroubled as you reached the urgency.

But still, he said nothing, he only sped up gripping your leg tighter, sucking on you harder, his fingers pumping within you tougher. Your whole body felt on fire, as you dripped over his bed and onto his fingers, Mark continuing until you saw stars.

And without more wait, you felt yourself pulse around him, and an uncontrollable throbbing feeling comes over you. And within seconds, you felt relief as you came onto him. Your rollercoaster finally coming back down. Your wetness leaking onto his palm and chin, until he used his tongue to lap it up. He removed his fingers from you, gently sucking on his own fingers and tasting what he wanted. You.

Never had you been more turned on. Maybe it was the mix of forbidden romance, the fact he cared little for the law, and you did, or the way you clicked, whatever it was, you just wanted him to fuck you hard.

“Mark,” you grabbed at his hair, “I want it hard tonight.”

And with a little chuckle, he nodded, his eyes first widening at your oddly executed request.

“You’ll regret asking,” A sinister voice sounded from the boy as he pulled down his sweatpants, his member hard inside his boxers.

And just like you did for him nights before, he reached down, palming himself through his thin boxers, before tugging them down and revealing his thick length. And looking down at your writhing figure, he let himself glide his hands over himself, stroking his length in his hands. Moving closer,  his tup brushed against you and feeling the sensation, you let out a shaky sigh.

“You’re dancing with the devil,” he mumbled, realizing that what he was doing was harmful to you and him, dangerous if Chittaphon ever found out.  But looking at you, he couldn’t resist.

“Which one of us is the devil?” You whispered slyly, a response burning on his tongue as he heard you say that.

Me! I am! He wanted to say. But right now he wasn’t so sure himself. He wasn't sure which one of you were the devil. But maybe— just maybe, it was the both of you.

Any rational thought disappeared when he entered you slowly, pushing his hips forward. You gasped, he fits you perfectly, he was thick, and it was pleasurable, it was perfect. “Mark,” You whined. You whine an ugly, lustful whine, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your head hit his shoulder.

“Sweetheart, can I move, or is it too much?” There was a joking tone in his voice as you whimpered, a soft nod coming from as you breathed.

He snaked his arms around your back and held you tightly as you mirrored his actions. You had asked for rough, but his thrusts were painfully slow, each one slower from the last, stretching you out. And then soon, he was pushing himself farther into you, using an invisible strength and speed you never knew he could carry within him. Your body bounced with his movements, and before long you adjusted to accommodate his thick cock.

He let out shaky moans as he held you, his face falling on the bend of your neck, sucking harshly on the skin as he took the pleasure you gave him. And with hot, heavy, and hard thrusts, he left you breathless, unable to catch up with his movements.

You felt full, a feeling you had never quite gotten before with sex. The overwhelming wave of pleasure continued to wash over you, hit after hit, after hit. You felt your walls pulse against him, this time with strength. The sensation of Mark fucking you was undeniably pleasurable, but knowing what you did about him, it felt like more than that.

He kissed you hungrily, capturing your quivering lips in a kiss, an aggressive, hostile kiss. His dull fingernails dug into your skin, it felt possessive, as if he was marking you, though he didn’t even know he could turn around for you. You swallowed your moans, and focused on his fingernails and his cock, disappearing inside of you with every thrust he took.

“Look at me!” Mark rasped, his voice coming in horse croaks as he spoke to you. “Y/N, look at me!” He demanded again, “look at me!” And finally, you locked eyes with the boy, his brown eyes filled with pleasure still gave a forlorn gaze. He moaned against your lips, keeping a tight grip on your waist as he did. “I don’t want this to end,” He whispered, his eyes pleading you to say something reassuring, but you didn’t know what. But he still continued to pleasure.

“Mark just keep going, I’m gonna cum,” You whimpered.

Hearing those words were an odd reassurance, sure he didn’t get what he wanted, but he got this. The sight of your face when he pounded mercilessly into your sweat body, hair moist from the rain, and your legs sticking to his skin like duct tape.

He had fucked you hard, your walls throbbing, your lips red and swollen, your hair a mess, and your waist bruised. But he didn’t stop, he lasted long, and he gave you enough pleasure to last lifetimes. A tingling feeling starting in your toes and working their way up to your head until your whole body was enveloped in pleasure.  

“What’s it gonna take to make you cum.” He muttered, frustrated that you hadn’t cum sooner like he expected.  His heavy breaths gave away that he was close.

You cant get a coherent sentence as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, rubbing harsh, slow circles against the bundle of nerves that sat there.

And still fucking you, he rubbed his small thumb against you, his black hair falling into his face as you heard his heavy grunts, applying pressure onto you.

You moaned so loud, you thought possibly the person overheard. You felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, unbearably tight and painful that you needed a release. And all at once, with every last piece of energy you had left, you came onto mark, spilling onto his bed and all over his pale pelvis, feeling him release right after you.

He fucked you through your orgasm, the thrusts becoming more and more sloppy as he released. Jerking his hips into you, his moans were just as loud as yours. The rain still pounding down on the ground and created loud terrible sounds.

He regained himself, his body flopping down next to yours, securely pulling his blankets over both your hot and sweaty body, the cool air helping to cool both of you down.

And laying there, he wanted to go with you.

He wanted everything you had to offer. He wanted college life, he wanted something real and normal, and he wanted love. But most importantly he knew himself well.

For in the morning, he would send you away and wish to never see you again.

#mark lee smut #mark smut #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagine #nct imagine #nct writers #nct smut #mark reactions #nct reactions #let's pretend this fic is a good one! okay?

[lxveille]

40 & 48 with a minghao pleaseee

summer start flash fics; wc: 2024; royalty!au

The day Minghao arrives at court, you hear word of him before you even see him. Rumors, mostly fascinated with how someone of unclear origins had become such a talented artist. One of your fellow ladies-in-waiting claims that he was a fisherman’s son who learned the art of poetry from sirens out at sea.

That version of events makes the lot of the Princess laugh. “That’s lofty tutelage to claim for someone whose work we haven’t even heard yet,” she remarks.

“But it does make you want to give him an audience, doesn’t it?”

She nods, and promises that you’ll all get a chance to see.

Rumors could not have prepared you for actually seeing Minghao perform. There is an effortlessness and grace in the very way he moves; like he’s been here a thousand times before. If you hadn’t heard so many tales of his humble origins, you would have thought he belonged in palaces, that he’d grown up surrounded by at least the same luxuries as you.

And that’s before he even performs.

Minghao is invited to stay at court. You do your best to hide your delight.

“It’s supposed to be the other way around, isn’t it?”

Those are the first word Minghao speaks directly to you. He knows who you are by now. You are a constant by the Princess’ side, particularly so on the evenings he performs. But circumstances have never aligned just right for him to do more than greet you honorably and in passing. Until now, when he’s found you by chance in one of gardens.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you answer him, doing your very best to keep your gaze diverted to the colorful petals of flowers in front of you.

“The poet is meant to be the one admiring the noblewoman, by my understanding.”

The implication sends a jolt down your spine, has you straightening your shoulders and stiffening your neck as your gaze snaps to him. You nearly gasp aloud. Minghao has a placid smile on his lips, as if he’d done nothing more than remark on the weather. The only indication that he knows exactly what he’s said is in the faint glimmer of curiosity and playfulness in his gaze upon you.

“You don’t play much at cards, do you?” He asks, lips quirking up just a fraction more than they ought to, all statuses considered.

You bring your lips into a stern line and let your eye flicker with intentional indiscretion over his lanky frame. “Have you heard of a false tell?” you retort without hurry. You remind yourself that he is not the one with a royal’s ear; that isn’t heir to any known fortune.

He laughs, and you find yourself forgetting why you needed such reminders in the first place.

“Between a bluff and a false tell, who do you suppose would fold first?” Minghao glances towards the palace briefly before returning his sights to you. Somehow it is more intense than it had been only an instant before.

“There comes a time when you have to show your hand, you know,” you reply, falling more into ease with the conversation now that it’s a few steps removed from his opening accusation.

Minghao feigns a look of surprise. “Does there?”

“I’m afraid you’re the one who sounds inexperienced at cards now.” You smile at him, and it seems to have a mirroring effect on him; his own lips curling into a slight grin.

He bends forward slightly at the waist, decreasing the space between the two of you by only a few inches. It is enough to remind you just how charmed you have been by his appearance since the first day he arrived.

“Or perhaps I’m very good at making my opponents fold,” he suggests as an alternative. There’s a tinge of challenge in his tone that makes your heart begin to beat a little faster. He takes a step back, a self-satisfied look upon his face. “Please, send my regards to your Lady. I’ve composed something new in her honor.” With those words, he suddenly sounds like nothing more than the image of propriety, and dips his head in respect to you before taking his leave.

That evening, he does indeed perform a new lyric poem. It tells of distant, chaste ardour; of noble love for a beauty yet unmatched in the narrator’s eyes. Intrigue. Readiness to devote.

Throughout, everyone in attendance has their eyes either upon the poet or the princess. Minghao had, after all, been quite clear in his introduction that this composition wouldn’t have been possible with her.

Except his gaze is fixed on you through every stanza.  

“I thought you never showed your hand?” You find Minghao in the hallway just outside the drawing room shortly after you see him exit. He almost seems to have been waiting for you, given that he’s only half-way down the empty passage.

“Only returning the courtesy,” he replies without missing a beat.

You ought to be seeking some way to refute that; to insist once more that your shock earlier that day hadn’t in fact been a wordless confirmation of your admiration. Yet you find yourself continuing steady strides down the stonework until you are only a few step away from Minghao.

“Did you choose to be so obvious with your gaze?” you question, dropping your volume to a hush.

“I could hardly have been so obvious in my words.” A flutter runs through you at this confirmation that his poem was truly dedicated to you. “I can be more discreet, if it’s what you’d wish.”

“What am I to know, then, if you’re discreet in both your words and action?”

Minghao smiles again, something akin to mischief mixing into his gaze. “That it is impossible to write of anyone else in a court where you are.”

You try not to grin. You tell him that will suffice.

It does, for quite some time. You share private, coy conversations with him whenever the opportunity arises. And every time he presents a new poem come evening, there is never any sign even the most prying, astute eyes could find for proof that they are directed at you.

There’s no wrong in the way you engage with him, you tell yourself. Save for the technicality that it would be more proper if the artist were as genuinely enthralled by the Princess as he performs. There is no foul in sharing wits with Minghao, no harm in being receptive to his verses.

But then the night comes when you return to your bedchamber to find an envelope had been slipped under the door. It bears your name on the outside and no wax seal. Inside was a single piece of paper. On it were carefully written lines of a poem that grips you from the first line.

And brings a flush to your face and a heat to your chest.

The first stanza details a knight waiting in a pasture for a shepherdess; growing ever impatient with every birdsong and passing cloud overhead. Every sound that is not his lover’s voice a torture upon his soul.

The second tells of the mixed sensation of relief and boiling over when the shepherdess appears at last. The time between seeing and touching somehow agonizingly longer than the knight’s entire wait for nightfall.

And the third.

You think you’ll have to burn this paper for the last stanza alone.

It details everything that happens after the knight takes her hand and the two fall together in the grassy hillside under the cover of dark.

There is some space after the final line. Then, towards the bottom of the page, written at an angle rather than in a straight line: Forgive my indiscretion xx  

You could choose outrage; could probably have him ousted from court if you made enough of a fuss of it. You could choose to scorn him privately for it; burn the letter and refuse to meet his gaze and stop finding places to share quiet talks with him.  

What you do choose is this: you tuck the poem between pages of your own journal. You carry on your conversations, public and private, with him as if nothing had changed at all.

At least until he caves first and asks if you’ve received any letters as of late during one of your afternoon walks with him.  You dare to let your fingers find his, brushing lightly over his.

“I have,” you reply, “I only wish it hadn’t been from an anonymous admirer.”

Your hand starts to fall away from his, but Minghao grabs it back. He clutches at your fingertips and looks at you imploringly. He whispers out only the first two lines of the poem before bringing your hand up to brush his lips delicately against the knuckles.

“Remarkable. That’s exactly what my anonymous admirer had written,” you tease in a half-murmur.

Minghao lifts his eyes to yours without letting go of your hand. “My lady, you make me want things I can’t have,” he says; it’s a gentle warning, if not a plea for some abstract mercy you might be able to bestow upon him.

“Minghao,” you call him by name directly, a rarity that usually sets a small grin upon his features. But today, his expression remains the same. “What was your shepherdess allowed to have…?” Certainly not a knight; certainly not what Minghao wrote as occurring on a hill at night. “And what does she have…?”

It is not dark, but there is the cover of well-kept trees and low-hanging branches.

Not that kissing Minghao feels like something that needs hiding. At least not in the moment. When his mouth presses to yours, it feels like a great weight has lifted off your chest – like this kiss is the only thing you could need to subsist, as if Minghao could keep you encircled in his arms from then on until eternity.

You forget, even, that there was in fact another letter you received recently.

Or you tell yourself that you forget it. The truth is you almost always remember it somewhere in the afterglow of any of Minghao’s kisses. They grow in frequency over the days that follow. So much so you almost begin to fear someone will catch on.

A near fear is evidently not enough to keep you out of Minghao’s bed.

Minghao finds out himself, inevitably, the evening a feast is thrown to welcome home the prince and his retinue from their trip abroad. If he hadn’t been suspicious from the way one of Jeonghan’s knights had spent nearly all afternoon walking with you in the garden, the Princess’ speak at the feasts’ opening left no room for question.

She’s grinning when she mentions her delight that fate has brought not only her brother home, but also the betrothed of one her dearest companions. Her gaze turns to you, and you smile up at her in return. You spare a glance towards Soonyoung, who raises his cup with a grin upon catching your gaze, and then you look down at your lap.

Because there are eyes upon you now. Which means you can’t afford to seek out Minghao to check upon his reaction.

He catches you in a hallway later that night. The boisterous event is still in full-swing in the grand hall. Minghao’s breath smells heavily of wine as he speaks, desperate and angry, “I never stood a chance, did I?”

You stutter out a few senseless syllables. The engagement predates his arrival, you want to say. You should have drawn a line with him far earlier, you know you ought to admit. Soonyoung is good and kind and comes from a good name, you mostly want tell yourself.

“You couldn’t have really thought you could marry me one day,” is what manages to leave your lips through the haze inside your head.

His expression contradicts your assertion.

Minghao leaves court in the dead of night before the week is up.

In the morning, there is an envelope with your name written on it and no wax seal under your door.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #xu minghao scenarios #summer start flash fics

[themwordsblog]

Bucky Banned

Amidst the loud clapping of the audience the interviewer screamed out.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!  Thank you for coming here tonight. It is a wonderful evening and we have a very special guest for you to make it even better.”

The crowd screamed even more.

“He is handsome, he is a gentleman. He mesmerizes ladies with his charms and plays a top assassin in Marvel Cinematic Universe. Please welcome Sebastian Stan everyone.”

Sebastian walked in and waved everyone. Once he had taken seat, the interviewer asked-

“You look good Sebastian.”

“Thank you, I feel good too.” Sebastian laughed.

“Seb, the filming of Infinity War part 2 is over, I have heard. What can you tell us about it?”

“Ummm.. .. It’s was a great experience working  with MCU and being a part of something this big is a huge opportunity for which I am grateful. Also it was lots of fun. It was a crazy few months.”

“You are married and have kids? Twins if I am not wrong?

“Yes, I am my wife are blessed with a twins three years ago.” He said with a big smile on his face and the crowd cheered

“How do they take this? This separation? Or long distance?”

“It’s not easy. I tried to go home whenever I could. I had my family come and visit me as much as possible.”  He explained.

“You know I asked my audiences to suggest some questions for you and some of them have some really good questions. So if you don’t mind how about I ask you those, instead of mine?”

“That would be great. Bring it on.” Seb replied enthusiastically.

“Okay. The first question is from Jennifer. Her question is- If you had a chance to change one thing about Bucky/Winter Soldier what would it be?”

“Ummm…. Probably nothing. I kind of like Bucky/ Winter Soldier as he is. I mean he is a character with different shades and I love him as he is. “

“So no changes at all?” The interviewer asked.

“None.” Seb confirmed.”

“Sebastian, this is actually my question. Recently your wife twitted something.” Seb and the interviewer both looked at the screen.  

Then it was displayed a post which his wife has done few days ago. It was a simple text post-

Bucky Banned!

There was a murmur of excitement among the crowd and everyone were left guessing for the reason. Sebastian simply laughed.

“It’s a long story- “

“We have all the time in the world.” The interviewer put down his cards. Sebastian made himself comfortable before he began his story.

“So few days ago, my wife had some important work and she was going to be late. So I was in charge of our kids. Basically it was me and kids having a daddy day. Under supervision of their nanny.”

At this the audiences laughed.

“So we were doing fine, when I got a call from my wife asking me to pick her up. Her car stopped working and she was at the garage. So I went, picked her up and we both returned. We were just about reach our place when my wife got a call from the nanny asking us to come home immediately.”

“Why? What happened? Was everything alright?”

“At that time we didn’t know, my wife had heard the kids crying in the background. So I hit the peddle and droved as fast I possibly could. When we reached there we were greeted with the sounds of crying babies and teary eyed nanny. Seeing us at the door, both the kids rushed and gave me a tight hug. Their grip was so tight that I could not breathe. My wife comforted the nanny. All this happened in half an hour. I had been out of the house for only half an hour.”

“What? What had happened?”

“See, as soon as I left the kids asked their nanny to switch on the TV. She was putting on of the cartoon channel when they saw that Captain America the First Avenger playing on some channel. They both got excited and she let them watch it. Unfortunately, it was the train scene from where Bucky had the fall.”

“OH my God!”

“Yeah, they saw that and they started flooding the entire house.”

“I cannot believe it.”

“Yeah me too. They now have me under surveillance. They follow me everywhere I go. I have to inform them about my activities. Hell I have to keep the door open of the bathroom when I pee.”

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” everyone was laughing. The interviewer wiped his tears and asked-

“What about our wife? Didn’t she help you out of the situation?”

“Oh she was busy. Laughing. At me.” Sebastian said with a fake annoyed look on his face. He continued-

“So all the movies I did as Bucky is kind of banned at my place. At least my kids understand that it was not real.”

“Sebastian, I hope your kids understand this really quickly because we don’t want them to miss out their father’s one of the best work. Thank you Sebastian for coming to our show.”

“Thank you for having me. You were a great audience guys.” The camera then zoomed in on the interviewer.

“That’s Sebastian Stan ladies and gentlemen! Hopefully next time when we meet him Bucky would be unbanned”

#sebastian stan #sebastian #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky barnes #winter solider imagine

[abbyeliseportfolio-blog]

The Interview

Act I

Scene I

SETTING: An average Monday morning in the le Kea

office. The new up and coming French furniture company with rows of cubicles filled with general murmurs across them. The sounds of phones ringing and keyboards clacking are interrupted by MS. SNIDER’S heels strutting across the tile floor.

AT RISE: KIM is found pouring MS.SNIDER a cup of

coffee, frantically before she enters her personal office. BRAD CHADLEY is found running into ANNA’S office while she’s preparing for their upcoming interview for a new hire, SAM WILHOUSKI.

NARRATOR

It’s an average Monday morning in the le Kea office, with the sound of general murmurs across the cubicles, phones ringing and keyboards clacking, the sound of Ms. Anna Snider’s heels panic Kim.

(PLAY HEEL SOUND)

(Kim panics)

(Freeze Frame - Kim holds up name card (huffs))

This is Kim, she works here.

(Kim begins to pour coffee for Anna)

As Kim begins to frantically pour Ms. Anna Snider’s coffee she approaches the receptionist desk.

(Anna Enters. Annoyed- grabs coffee aggressively (Folder in

hand))

(Kim continues to type)

(Freeze Frame) - (Kim holds up Anas name tag in front of

her)

Ms. Anna Snider, Top Dog at le Kea. A 33-year-Old woman with the jaded nature of a retired 67-year-old. Known for her ruthless business acumen, professional unprofessionalism, and aggressive passive aggression. As cold and unapproachable as the iron fist she rules the office with.

(Ana sits down at desk, begins to examine paperwork)

(Brad enters door, dropping items - disheveled)

BRAD

I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!

(Freeze Frame - Brad stops at receptionist desk)

(Kim holds up his name card)

NARRATOR

And this is Mr. Brad Chadley. President of his former frat, three-time beer pong champion, and Anna’s lackie. Only just graduating from Brewski University he takes orders from only two people: Anna and his mother.

ANNA

(rolls eyes)

What are you wearing?

BRAD

(looks at himself)

What? Come on! She won’t see my pants! I’ll be sitting at a desk right?

ANNA

Do you see a front cover on this desk?

(gestures to table with sass)

BRAD

I gotchu.

(pulls out sheet from bag and covers his desk)

(Kim enters as Brad is pulling sheet out of bag - begins to

start covering desk)

KIM

(Kim confused by the odd scene in front of her)

Ummm. Ms.Snider. You have an interview today.

ANNA

Thank you, Kim.

(waves Kim off)

Brad, really.

(rolls eyes - annoyed)

BRAD

(finishes cover desk - proceeds to sit)

See all better! I told you you wouldn’t see my pants!

ANNA

(rolls eyes again)

Okay. Anyway, can we get on the same page about this interview, please?

(Anna says impatiently)

BRAD

Yes, yes okay so what are we thinking?

Good cop, bad cop-type roles? I’ll be serious and write stuff down while you, ya know, ask all the difficult questions.

ANNA

Uhh okay, you’re right. If he’s anything like you, we aren't going through with this interview, though.

BRAD

What?! What’s the supposed to mean?

ANNA

Nothing, nothing. It’s just -

(Brad interrupts)

BRAD

You know what. I’m going to stay silent, and if need be, I'll make a noise or two to acknowledge you and him.

ANNA

Fine.

(Kim Enters)

KIM

Excuse me. Ms. Snider. They are here.

(Brad begins of panic)

BRAD

(Huffing)

Okay, serious face. Come on, Brad. You got this.

(Breathing Heavily - uses hand gestures to try and make serious face)

ANNA

Okay, seriously, Brad. Calm down, you act like you’ve never interviewed someone.

(Anna says annoyed)

(Brad still trying to get into part, breathing heavily)

(Kim enters as Sam follows behind her)

(Brad still scrambling - Anna trying to calm him down)

NARRATOR

(Kim holds up Sam’s name card - annoyed)

And this, ladies and gentleman, is the one and only Sam Wilhouski. Bright, cheery, and the right girl for the job… this job. With a master’s from Cornell University, she's ready and eager to get started. New to the harsh professional job market and not ready for these two.

(Anna and Brad both rise to shake her hand)

ANNA

(leans in and whispers to Brad)

I thought it was going to be a man.

BRAD

(grunts)

(Brad quickly looks, down realizing Sam can now see his

pants)

ANNA

(sticks hand out)

Good morning, Anna Snider, pleased to meet you.

SAM

Pleasure to meet you, Sam Wilhouski.

(Shakes Anna’s hand)

(Brad still standing - sticks out hand)

BRAD

(shakes Sam’s hand - grunts)

SAM

(Tilts head, confused by Brad’s grunting and the sheet over his desk)

(Everyone takes their seats - Sam places resume in front of them simultaneously)

ANNA

This is Mr. Brad Chadley, my assistant. Don’t worry about him, he’s better with papers anyway.

BRAD

(looks at resume, pushes it aside, pulls out coloring book (in a folder) + crayons)

SAM

(looks at Brad, again confused)

Okay…

ANNA

(cuts off Sam)

Sam. What an… interesting name. Is it short for anything?

SAM

(looks at Anna)

Oh no, it’s just Sam.

ANNA

Really? Are you sure your mother didn’t mean to call you... Oh, I don’t know, Samantha, Sammy… Samuel.

SAM

Isn’t Samuel a boy name?

ANNA

(Says casually)

Now you see my confusion.

SAM

Excuse-

ANNA

(cuts off Sam)

Well then… Sam, tell me a little bit about yourself.

(looks at a question list, looks at Sam)

Your qualifications? Experience? What makes you think you have a place here working in our wonderful le Kea corporation?

(pushes question list aside)

BRAD

(Grabs list and starts writing in it)

SAM

Well, I graduated from Cornell with a masters in Business-

BRAD

(grunts)

(pushes question paper to Anna)

ANNA

Cornell? Well...

(Reads questions, looks at Sam)

What sorority were you in?

SAM

Um… well, I never really joined one. But I was a member of Cornell’s Student Body Government and president of business and marketing team-

ANNA

So, no...

(looks at paper)

wild pledging stories?

SAM

No. In fact, pledging was severely reprimanded on campus.

BRAD

(smirks and scoffs) (grunts and continues coloring)

ANNA

Well, enough about that. You were talking about experience in the field?

SAM

(kind of on edge)

...I wasn’t-

(pulls herself back together)

While I was an undergraduate, I participated in multiple internships with various businesses- Small, up and coming ones and a few large, more prominent companies. And while completing my master's degree I was working as a team leader for various marketing projects at the Ithaca Silverworks Company-

ANNA

What were you earning in the position?

SAM

(a little shocked)

The expected wage? I was still a college student so that was where most of my assets went, but I had enough for the typical things like housing, food, clothes, and a couple hobbies-

BRAD

(loud grunt, Shows audience paper - points, smiles, nods head)

SAM

(very confused)

ANNA

(looks at paper again)

Interesting, and how much on shoes?

SAM

… shoes.

BRAD

(laughs quietly)

ANNA

Come on, we’re both women here, Sam. Just between you and me, how much did you put aside just for a new set of heels? We’ve all done it.

SAM

I don’t see how any of this has to-

ANNA

(waves hand)

Hobbies. You said you have hobbies. What do you do?

BRAD

(grabs paper again and writes in it)

SAM

I like hiking. When you live in a big city you don’t normally get to see wildlife that often, so getting away and walking the trails is a great break. I’m also not much of an art person, but I’ve been going to painting classes recently because why not try new things you know -

BRAD

(Looks up from his coloring book. Slowly goes back to

coloring)

SAM

And I guess I’ve been trying to -

ANNA

You said you live in a big city. Where?

SAM

. . . I don’t think I’m required to answer that.

ANNA

And why not?

SAM

Because this is supposed to be an interview about how I could benefit the company, not my current residence.

ANNA

We don’t like tardiness here, Sam. What if you’re late one morning? How am I supposed to know if it’s just a traffic issue or pure laziness? How long am I expected to wait for your eventual arrival?

SAM

That doesn’t change the fact that where I live is very personal. And if me being late is what you’re concerned about, I assure you that will most likely never happen. You’ll also have my contact information in case it ever does.

ANNA

You not answering this question is very unprofessional.

SAM

You asking that question is very unprofessional.

BRAD

(hold back a laugh)

ANNA

(Elbows him/glares at him)

(gets very serious)

What do you know about this company, Sam?

SAM

(gets serious as well (kind of like a standoff))

I know that it’s a new, up and coming French furniture company that has just recently decided to open international locations.

ANNA

And are you aware of what we expect from our employees?

SAM

Well, I would expect professionalism.

ANNA

Precisely. Because we believe an employee is a living representation of le Kea. Everyone has a role and it only takes one member of the workforce to ruin said image. Keeping that in mind, you’re aware of my concern now, correct?

SAM

(looks at Brad)

BRAD

(looks back. Flashes a peace sign. Goes back to coloring)

SAM

Of course.

ANNA

(stops being serious)

Great! Now, if you were an animal, which one would you want to be?

SAM

(shocked and confused)

What?

BRAD

(stops coloring and crosses his arms)

(grunts)

ANNA

(serious)

If you were an animal, which one would you want to be?

SAM

What does that have to do with-

ANNA

Are you refusing to answer another question, Sam?

BRAD

(shakes his head)

SAM

I don’t mean to, I’m just confused as to how that answer will determine-

ANNA

If a penguin walked through the door right now wearing a sombrero. What would he say?

SAM

I don’t even know how you expect me to answer that-

ANNA

We require our personnel to be able to handle situations that force them to think on their feet and quickly. And I must say, you aren’t performing very well.

SAM

Just a second ago you were interrogating me about where I live and now you’re asking random animal questions. Sorry if I’m confused-

ANNA

Miss Wilhouski, many of our employees are a bunch of young guys who put in long days. They’ve made their place known here in the office, and you know how boys are. Do you think you’re ready to be in that kind of environment?

SAM

(very confused)

What even are you trying to-

ANNA

You aren’t a nark, are you?

SAM

(horrified)

Excuse me?

ANNA

Brad doesn’t think you have what it takes to work this job.

SAM

He’s literally an assistant and hasn’t said anything this whole time.

BRAD

(grunt offendedly, crosses arms)

SAM

I’m sorry, but do you say anything other than (grunt)?

BRAD

(grunts mockingly)

SAM

Point taken.

ANNA

Is there a problem here?

SAM

(laughs)

Actually, you know what, yeah, there is. I came here today in the hopes of receiving a professional interview for a position I applied for, which by the way was never brought up, and all I got was [gestures around] this: what, 15 minutes of wasted time, sitting in a chair, and being mocked by a woman who insists she knows everything and some frat boy that doesn’t know the difference between an office and a frat house. So, instead of wasting more of everyone’s valuable time, I’m going to take the initiative here and leave.

(stands up, looks at Anna)

Miss. Snider.

(looks at Brad)

(grunts)

(turns to leave)

Have a good day.

(exit scene)

NARRATOR

Well, that didn’t go as planned. With Brad and Anna left in shock, Sam has left the building.

ANNA

. . .

BRAD

Well. That was a shit show. . . You do act like you know everything though-

ANNA

Shut up, Brad.

NARRATOR

Expecting a professional interview to give her a gateway into the  business industry Sam was instead met with a closed minded preconception of a masculine identity. When she didn’t appear to have those standards the interview fell apart rapidly. Sam went on to fight for equal status in the workplace. Sam truly believed that no matter the identity we are all human and we should all have equal opportunities.

  [End Scene]

#play

[expressandadmirable]

Dixon’s Girl

(CW: Abuse)

“Ale for you.”

Lux glanced at the barman with a confused frown, her bow sliding across the strings without missing a note. “Who from?”

“The gentleman in the far booth,” the barman answered, setting the mug on the table at Lux’s elbow; the tone of his response made it clear the man in question was a gentleman only in rank and title. As he departed, Lux leaned over to peer into the mug. The red. The most expensive ale the tavern offered. The kind of gift that came with expectations.

Looking up from the mug, Lux spied the booth in the far corner of the tavern. The man was handsome for a Human, with dark hair and a lean face, but the confidence of his smirk and the pointedness of his gaze made her skin crawl. This was a man thoroughly used to getting exactly what he wanted. More concerning, however, was the young woman next to him: curved and pretty, she smiled whenever the man spoke in her direction, but it never reached her eyes and vanished as soon as he looked away. She was playing her part well, but behind the mask, she was terrified.

After a moment, she realised where she had seen the man before: a fortnight prior, at court, when she had been invited to play with a small orchestra for some of the nobility. He had been in the audience, though the woman on his arm at that performance had been different. She had been older, more self-possessed, and infinitely bored with the sedateness of the music. Lux could only assume that woman had been his wife. This new woman was definitely not.

She watched them as she played. He talked almost incessantly, making broad gestures to indicate his points and laughing loudly at his own jokes. She smiled, nodded, offered the occasional response which he largely ignored. From time to time he would point at Lux, leaning close and whispering to the woman with a lascivious smile. His desires for the evening were so abundantly, unavoidably clear that under normal circumstances they would have made Lux laugh. He was going to be sorely disappointed.

Lux waited until the man turned to flag down a barmaid and caught the woman’s eye. She murmured something to herself, her lips barely moving, but the jerk of the woman’s head told her the magic had gone through: Are you okay? The woman blinked, her eyes darting nervously around her before settling back on Lux. She shook her head very slightly. The Tiefling nodded, incanted again: My set is almost through. Tell him you want to meet me. I’ll be at the bar. Trust me. The woman did not move a muscle, but the intensity of her stare was all the confirmation Lux needed.

When she finished her last song, Lux stood, bowed, stowed her violin and made her way to the bar, bringing the untouched ale with her. Pressing a coin onto the varnished wood, she told the barkeep she needed a room immediately, no questions. The barkeep nodded, took her coin and handed her a small key with a leather number tag. Lux palmed the key and took a deep swig of ale. Now it was time for the real show.

“You there! Bard!”

Somehow managing to keep her eyes from rolling out of her skull, Lux turned to see the man approaching, his arm draped casually over the woman’s shoulders. She lifted her mug and tipped her head. “My lord. Are you my patron this evening?”

“I most certainly am! A fine performance, bard. Truly magnificent! Quite a difference from your appearance at court the other day. Clearly, this is where you’re in your element.” Lux noted the subtle backhandedness of the man’s words, but did not interrupt. Let him play out his part. “My mistress--” he squeezed his arm around the woman’s neck, “--was very taken by your music.” He smashed a kiss onto the woman’s temple, but kept his eyes on Lux. “Of course, I promised her an introduction. She’s just anxious to meet you.” Gods, deliver us from this man’s libido.

“Naturally.” Lux smiled her best smile and extended her hand. When the woman cautiously took it, Lux sank into a dramatic bow, using the motion to pull her a step forward and out of the man’s grip. She kissed the woman’s hand as she straightened. “Lux. A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

Before the woman could introduce herself in return, the man barked a laugh. “Oh, she’s no lady! There’s no need for that. She’s a shoemaker’s daughter. She’s here with me because she’s the prettiest shoemaker’s daughter in all Corneria.”

“Is that so, my lord?” Lux responded mildly, not letting go of the woman’s hand. “And what brings a gentleman such as yourself to this humble establishment?”

The man leaned rakishly against the bar, his ego almost visibly puffing, and raised his hand in declaration. “I love taverns! This part of town is always the best place to find entertainment. It’s all so… rustic! Simple food, common ales…” He spied Lux’s hand wrapped around the woman’s and fixed her with a grin. “...Talented women. There’s something for everyone here. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course, my lord.” Gently, Lux placed the woman’s hand on her hip, sliding her arm around her waist. The woman’s eyes widened, watching Lux closely, but she accepted the Tiefling’s embrace.

“Oh I’m so glad.” The man looked them up and down, his eyes positively burning. “Now, as your evening’s patron, I should very much like to take a room upstairs and commission a private performance for my mistress and myself.” He licked his lips.

For a long moment, Lux pretended to consider the man’s offer. She drew the woman close, carefully angling their bodies to move her safely behind her and out of the man’s reach. “Yes.” With the woman at her back, she regarded the man. “And… No.”

He blinked. “What?”

“No, my lord. No private performances this evening.”

“Excuse me?” the man spluttered. “You can’t-- I’ve-- What is it you want, then? I’ll pay double!” His obliviousness to the fact he had just been played like a lute was almost endearing.

“Pay?” Lux asked, unfazed. “Does this look like a brothel to you, my lord? If you need one, I can make recommendations.”

“What-- You vulgar cow! How dare you spurn me! Your kind should be grateful for the attention, you hellish beast! I can’t believe I wasted my time with you and your pitiful music.” For a split second, he looked about to spit in her face, but instead he turned with a flourish. “Come, darling. We’re leaving.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

The man stopped. Slowly, he turned, his face crimson with rage. “What did you say to me?”

The tavern fell silent, every eye fixed on the scene. Lux slipped her hand behind her back and felt the woman take the room key from her open palm. She spoke slowly, stalling until the woman’s footsteps receded. “I said, she’s not going anywhere with you, my lord.”

“You good-for-nothing blasphemous whore!” The man drew himself up to his full height, which might have been intimidating had he not been a full three inches shorter than the Tiefling. “You deny me satisfaction and take my woman from me?! This is outrageous! I shan’t stand for it! Do you know who I am?!”

“First of all,” Lux growled, also drawing up to her full height, “she’s not your woman. Second, I’m guessing you only bring her to taverns in this part of town so you can have your fun without your wife finding out. Am I correct, sir? So your goodly wife doesn’t discover her noble husband is a liar and a cheat? You can’t hide your sins from me, sir, because I do know who you are. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to walk out that door and never seek your former mistress’s company again. You will allow her to go free and speak of her to no-one. If I hear even a rumour you’ve darkened her doorstep again, I will go straight to your wife and tell her everything I know. How does that sound?”

“You wouldn’t,” the man breathed, genuine fear creeping into his fury. “She’d-- She’d never believe a creature like you!”

“I would, and she will. In fact,” she added, leaning close enough to kiss him, “I’ll make the story even better. I’ll tell everyone in every tavern that you and I are passionate lovers, that you spend every day just waiting to empty yourself into this hell. Word will spread, believe you me. Everyone will know you like to fuck devil spawn. And what will your fellows at court say then?”

“But that’s-- That’s not true!”

Lux shrugged. “You wanted it to be. What do I care if it’s true or not?” She smirked. “They say anyone can fuck their way into the nobility if they’re dedicated enough. Maybe it’ll get me a court appointment. Wouldn’t that be fun?” She dropped the sneer, her voice lowering. “Or, you can turn around, right now, and get. out.”

Speechless, the man weighed his options. The entire room watched intently. Finally, his hands balled into fists, the man spat at Lux’s feet, muttered a curse and stormed out of the tavern.

Taking a deep breath, Lux looked out across the sea of silent patrons. “How many of you saw what he was doing to her?” she asked, her voice cold with fury. Several faces dropped their gaze. “I could see it from across the fucking room. How many of you saw, and did nothing? You let some knobhead in a fancy doublet abuse one of your own, in your own house, and you did nothing. Because, what? He’s rich? He has rank? He deserves to get what he wants? It’s too much godsdamned trouble?” She scanned the room; no-one met her eyes. She shook her head in disgust. “And they say I’m evil.” Picking up her violin case, she mounted the stairs to the upper floor.

Room four. Lux knocked lightly. No answer. “My lady? It’s Lux. ...The bard. It’s alright now.” No answer. She wondered if she had the wrong room. Then the lock clicked and the door creaked open to reveal the woman behind it. She was younger than Lux but not by much, her auburn hair pinned into elaborate braids, her green eyes wide with fear. The faded remains of a bruise ringed one eye socket. “Are you okay?”

The woman nodded, opening the door further. “Come in.” As soon as Lux entered, she closed the door and locked it again. “He’s really gone?”

“Yeah. Lord Fuck-a-Duck shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” Lux smiled. “You’re free.”

Without warning, the woman threw her arms around the Tiefling. “Oh thank you! Thank you thank you thank you thank you--” She kissed her hard, cutting off her own words.

For a moment Lux melted into the kiss, then realised what she was doing and pulled back with a start. “Hey, whoa, hang on. Back up.” She wriggled out of the woman’s arms, trying to calm her suddenly racing pulse. “Okay. Okay. Hey. Let’s start at the beginning. What’s your name?”

“Maria,” the woman answered. “Is something wrong?” she asked, noticing Lux’s slight flinch.

“No, no. Just a similar name to someone I once knew. Sorry.” Lux stepped over to the table, flipping a chair around and settling backwards onto it, a posture as defensive as it was disarming. “What’s your story, Maria? How did you come to be here?”

“Um, there’s not a lot to tell, really.” Maria sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded nervously in her lap. “I’m a shoemaker’s daughter, that much is true. My father owns a shop near the canal. Mortimer’s.”

Lux nodded. “I know the place.” If it was the shop she was thinking of, Maria’s father and her own mother bought leather from the same tannery. Her father was a good enough man by all accounts, but she knew he gave her mother dirty looks when they crossed paths.

Maria blinked. “You do? Are you from around here?” Lux nodded again, and it took Maria a moment to realise she was not going to elaborate. “Right… My father makes a lot of specialty shoes for the upper class, and since I help out around the shop, he often asks me to deliver them. That’s how I met him. He had ordered shoes.” She bit her lip. “He seemed so… elegant, at first. He was well-read and had good taste, and he kept telling me how pretty I was. He bought me gifts and took me places. I guess I was charmed. I’d never been courted by a noble before. I thought I loved him.” She looked embarrassed. “But he got off on the secret of it all. The power. He showed me off to his friends, bragged about me, but I could never visit him at home or go with him to court functions. I was never an official mistress. When I started to ask why it had to be that way, he…” She trailed off, one hand moving almost unconsciously to her bruised cheekbone. “And then it got bad.” Finally, she looked up at Lux. “We were out in public all the time, but nobody saw. Or if they did, they pretended not to. I thought I was trapped. How did you know?”

“Because I’ve been there,” Lux answered softly.

“Ohh…” Maria breathed, looking at the Tiefling with such deep pity it nearly made her fidget in her seat. “How did you… What happened?”

“Pretty girl, bad choices. Got hooked. Realised I was miserable, eventually left. Tried to repair the damage.” Lux did not like to talk about herself, least of all her most vulnerable moments. The conversation made her want a cigarette.

“But you’re safe now.” It was almost a question. “You came out the other side.”

Lux sighed. “Yeah. I guess I did.” She stood, sliding the chair back under the table. “You’ll be okay. It’ll take time, and it will hurt a lot, but you can rebuild from here. When you hit bottom, the only way to go is up.” Before she could pick up her violin case, Maria rose, catching Lux’s hand in hers. Her other arm snaked around Lux’s waist, bringing them close.

“Please stay.”

“Maria,” Lux protested weakly, “you seem like a nice girl, but you’ve just been through something pretty serious. Maybe you should sleep on it--”

“I want you. You make me feel safe.” Maria smiled. “I’ve never met one of your kind. I thought you’d be frightening, but… you’re not. You’re an angel.”

Lux scoffed. “I’m really not.”

“You are to me.” Maria stepped back, taking Lux’s other hand and tugging her toward the bed. “Just stay with me for a little while? Even if you disappear and I never see you again, I want to keep this.”

The Tiefling well knew her lack of willpower when it came to pretty women, but just this once, something inside her made her stand her ground. “How about this,” she offered, squeezing Maria’s hands. “I’ll stay tonight, all night.” She dipped her head and kissed her gently, chastely. “But not for this. You don’t need that right now. I’ll stay for you.” Releasing her, Lux rounded the other side of the bed, kicking off her boots and unbuckling her belt. Maria watched her until she lay down, still clad in trousers and kurta, then smiled shyly and bent to take off her own boots. She unlaced her bodice and left it on the floor, crawling in beside Lux in her blouse and skirt, curling against her side and resting her head on her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Lux wrapped her arms around the woman. “Sure thing.”

Within minutes, Maria was asleep, her breathing deep and even. In the darkness, Lux followed the wood grain of the ceiling beams, thinking idly about the past. Eventually she, too, drifted off to sleep.

#Dungeons and Dragons #Original Characters #Canon #Backstory #Aviva Lux #Title: Dessa