#but that he had been so caught up in the magic tricks to dodge his cancer that he had completely skipped it

[lolottes]

Ida is Constantine's good ex.

They separated on good terms after a few months because Ida wanted to start a family and not Constantine (for obvious reasons). Then, despite Ida's efforts to keep in touch as a long-distance friend, she quickly no longer received any news from him.

So when she sees him barely older and seeming lost in his town… she takes him for a ghost who has retained a very human appearance. She rushes to him because she is surely not the only one to notice the presence of a “tourist” in town.

She takes a minute to pity him and apologize. He hadn't ignored him, he was dead!!! Then start explaining to him why as a ghost it's not safe for him here even though it's very nice of him to visit <3

Constantine had not informed Ida about magic, after all it was one of his exes from before his cancer (a little near the time when he stopped responding to her) and his first triple sale of soul for escape death. But he knows Ida well enough not to contradict her. In addition, she gives him all the information in flash notes that he is looking for.

…

Okay, he also missed Ida. It felt SO strange to see her old. But she apparently hadn't lost anything from a mental point of view

This is how Constantine was invited to have tea and catch up on lost time at Ida's in addition to having a more complete debrief of the Amity Park situation

[chickenfics]

Team ‘Weekend Trip to Asgard’

Relationship: Loki x Fem!reader (SFW)

Summary: When Bruce invited you to a quick weekend getaway, you’d hardly expected your destination to be Asgard. Just like you’d hardly expected to be accompanied by two gods – one of whom you’re convinced hates your guts. But who would have thought that the God of Mischief has a thing for flowers, a talent for reciting Shakespeare, and knowledge of all the best places for stargazing? Certainly not you.

But in a weekend filled with sunny fields and boisterous feasts, with accidental skinny dipping and drunken magic tricks, you would begin to realize all the different ways Loki could surprise you.

Word count: 9k

Content warning: alcohol consumption, a small bit of anxiety. SHAMELESS Valkyrie and Loki flirting with the reader (I have no self-control), and some Bruce x Thor if you squint.

Also on Ao3

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Chapter 6

“Where have you been, we were getting worried -- Thor had me convinced you’d taken a nosedive off the Bifrost and Heimdall was gonna have to fish you out of the cosmos or something.”

Bruce was after you as soon as you got through the door, barely giving you enough time to shove your bag off before grilling you with questions. 

“Really,” you sighed, tilting your head before passing a scolding look at Thor. “Why would you do that, you know how he is.”

“I was simply stating the possibilities,” Thor replied, voice a pitch higher in self-defense. 

“What ‘you know how he is,’ you make me sound like I’m some overbearing nanny or something.”

“I mean…” you drawled, scrunching your nose. 

“Alright, you know what, that’s it. C’mere you little monster--”

You dodged a moment too late, and Bruce slung his arm around your neck, tugging you back and ruffling your hair. 

“Ah, get off,” you laughed, shoving him in the side. 

“Hey, what’s… is this a flower?”

He let go of you, and you straightened back up to see him holding an orange poppy. 

“Pshh,” Thor scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Banner. Obviously it’s a flower.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Bruce replied, matching the god’s sass and shooting him a dirty look. “But what was it doing in your hair?”

“What, I’m not allowed to wear a flower in my hair?” You argued, trying to sound teasing, but you couldn’t help the heat rising to your face. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly the type of person who usually went around putting flowers in their hair.

“No -- not what I’m saying,” Bruce quickly assured you, holding the flower out. You took it with a shy smile. 

 “Well, I think it looked lovely,” Thor spoke up. 

“You didn’t even see it," Bruce insisted, then turned to you with an apologetic look, much to your amusement. "He’s just trying to be a kiss ass, this is what he does. It's really pretty obnoxious if you ask me."

“Excuse me, I’ll not kiss anybody’s ass--”

“Okay, okay,” you interjected, raising your hands. “I didn’t mean to start a domestic. Bruce,” he raised his eyebrows attentively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

“It’s alright -- already forgotten,” he easily replied, hooking an arm around your shoulder again, only this time pulling you into a sideways hug. 

“How was your day? Was it good?”

You smiled. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was pretty great.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Bruce caught your smile and mirrored it with his own. 

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Thor very awkwardly interrupted. You both glanced over at him. “But you haven’t seen my brother around, have you?”

Oh, you’d seen him alright. More of him than you’d wanted to. 

“No, sorry, not since earlier,” you replied. “But, uh, he told me to tell you that he’ll be at the feast tonight. Probably.”

You shrugged, giving Thor a sympathetic look.

“Right. Thank you,” he nodded. 

Okay, so that had been a lie. Maybe Loki was rubbing off on you. While that thought was truly concerning, you figured he probably didn’t want Thor knowing that the two of you had spent the whole day together, reciting Shakespeare and rolling around in a field of flowers -- perhaps a slight exaggeration, but still. 

You assumed that was why the moment you’d set foot in the palace, Loki had suddenly needed to be elsewhere. You could tell his demeanor had shifted to something more formal, and so you matched it when he gave you a slight bow and told you that he would see you at the party later. He’d walked halfway down the hall before disappearing in a flash of green.

Even though the threat of Loki ‘smothering you in your sleep’ was no longer even remotely concerning, you didn’t mind not telling Thor -- or anyone else, for that matter -- about today. Because you had the feeling Loki had allowed you to see a part of himself that he didn’t go around flaunting. A part of himself that he held close to his chest, where he could keep it protected. The last thing you wanted to do was take a stab at it and risk wounding him. 

“So,” Bruce’s voice dragged you out of your thoughts. “Are you ready for this party tonight?”

“Not a party,” Thor raised his index finger in a way that told you they’d had this argument at least three times before now. “A feast.”

“I’m telling you, it sounds like a party to me.”

“Yes, well, that’s just because you’re a foolish Midgardian. No offense,” Thor looked at you. 

“None taken. And no, I am absolutely not ready for this party.”

“Feast.”

“Whatever,” you and Bruce shot back. He grinned at you, and Thor looked wounded. 

“Well, now you’re just being mean.”

Ignoring him, Bruce continued to look at you, that ever-present line of worry indenting his brow. 

“Why aren’t you ready, what’s up?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, ducking your head. “I’m just not really into… parties.”

“Good thing it’s a feast then, isn't it?” Thor muttered, sounding so much like an actual five-year-old that you instantly forgot your worries. Bruce, on the other hand, groaned.

“Oh for the love of-- will you shut up about the feast thing, always the feast thing,” he waved his arm before turning back to you. “I’ve had to hear this guy complain all day.”

You laughed brightly. 

“You two sure you’re gonna make it all night?” 

“Not if he keeps this up, I’m not,” Bruce muttered, but he was grinning. “Anyway, you’ll do fine, kid. And if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. No pressure.”

“Right. No pressure,” Thor added. “Even though it’s going to be very fun.”

“Alright, okay,” you rolled your eyes. “Thanks, guys.”

Maybe tonight would be fun. If you could just relax long enough to enjoy it, then sure, a party -- sorry, feast -- Asgard-style sounded like a blast. But then you thought about all the people that would be there. All those people whose lives were so different than yours. 

“Oh, shit,” that reminded you of something. “Um, Thor… I don’t really have anything to wear…”

“Ah, don’t worry about that -- someone brought you a dress already. It’s in your room. Valkyrie must have put something together,” he shrugged, and you allowed yourself a moment of relief. 

Before it turned into crippling anxiety. 

Great, a dress. You weren’t exactly opposed, but still… the idea certainly didn’t help your nerves. Bruce, who still had his arm slung over your shoulder, must have felt it. He pulled you closer. 

“Relax, kiddo. It’s gonna be fun.”

“I know, I know,” you returned his hug before pulling out of it. “So what time’s this p-- feast start?”

Thor shot Bruce a smug grin before replying. 

“Food will start being served in an hour or so, and then the festivities will last as long as we do.”

Great. So it would be an early night for you, then. 

“Okay,” you said aloud. “Guess I’ll go get ready.”

“Sounds good,” Bruce gave you a quick pat on the shoulder, and suddenly it felt like you were back in the lab. “Holler if you need anything.”

“Sure thing, boss,” you smirked before grabbing your bag off the floor. 

You heard Thor and Bruce begin to bicker as you made for your room, their voices growing distant as they retreated into theirs, probably to also get ready. You smiled faintly, shaking your head at their relationship. You hadn’t known they were so close, but it was apparent that they absolutely adored each other. It was an odd pairing for sure, and an unexpected one at that, but very adorable. 

Closing the curtain firmly behind you, you tossed your bag aside and stepped out of your shoes. Throwing yourself onto the bed with an exhausted huff, you let the pillows swallow you up for a moment, feeling the weight of the day crash onto you in full force. You were so unbelievably tired -- but you also felt full, like you’d lived the day well. It was a content tiredness, one that made you feel like you were floating. If you could just stay like this for a few minutes…

Next thing you knew, you were waking up with a jolt that had you scrambling to your feet. Shit, you hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Stumbling over to the doorway, you peeked your head out and were immediately met with the sounds of Bruce and Thor bickering in their room. You let out a sigh of relief. Okay, so not that much time had passed. 

Leaning an arm against the wall, you took a minute to catch your breath. That’s when you saw it -- the folded bundle on the vanity. You wandered over, hesitantly reaching out to unfurl the fabric. It was your dress -- a rich, olive green and made of light, smooth fabric that fell in wavy layers. 

You held it up, shaking it gently as you tried to figure out which part of the complicated dress were the sleeves when a card fluttered to the ground. It must have been tucked into the fabric. You stared at it, the dress momentarily forgotten as you sat it onto the bed and knelt down. 

It was a folded card, off-white and almost shiny, with an intricate, wavy pattern pressed along the edge. Inside, written in sharp, spindly handwriting, was a single sentence and a signature. 

 ‘If your desires are true, do not let your thoughts talk you out of this one. 

           -Prospero’

 You read it three times, your smile growing deeper with every sweep of the words. So it hadn’t been Valkyrie who brought you the dress, but Loki. He must have conjured it at some point after you reached the palace. Your eyes flickered over to the dress, finding a new interest in it now that you knew where it had come from. Then it dawned on you that it was his color. 

Well, okay, Loki didn’t own the color green, but still. It was the color he wore -- almost the same color as the cloak you had accidentally used as a blanket -- and the color he was known for. So really, it was his color. You wondered if he’d be wearing it tonight, and a flash of nerves shot through you, whether from dread or excitement, you didn't know. You weren’t sure which would be better.

Who cares? you thought. So what if we’re matching, would that be so bad? 

You promptly came to the decision that no, it would not. Sure, Thor and Bruce might tease you, but you didn’t mind. Then you suddenly realized that this was more than just Loki making sure you had something to wear to a formal gathering -- this was bigger than that. This was a gesture, a metaphorical olive branch being extended. 

If your suspicions were right, this was Loki’s way of saying that he wasn't ashamed of your friendship. Was it a friendship? You certainly felt like you were on friendly terms. Loki had just gifted you a dress, for goodness sake, and you were pretty sure he didn’t do that for just anybody. Maybe this was Loki’s way of officially confirming that he liked you, like when a cat brings its owner a dead bird or something. 

This dress was your dead bird -- a gesture from Loki to indicate that he at the very least didn’t dislike you. Could you let yourself hope that it went even further than that? The events of the day flashed through your mind -- all the kindness he had shown you, the small, seemingly insignificant gestures to make you feel more at ease, the genuine smile on his face while in the meadow -- and you thought that maybe the possibilities weren’t so impossible after all. 

You sat down on the bed, scanning the card once more, running your fingers over the somewhat messy lettering as you tried to wrap your head around what on Earth -- or on Asgard -- was going on. Your knowledge of Loki prior to this trip had been limited at best, but now it seemed that you had somehow managed to make friends with the God of Mischief and Lies. How does that even happen? 

With a twisting feeling in your gut, you wondered if this was all just some cruel trick. But then you thought about how Loki had reassured you more than he’d needed to, without even hiding behind his sharp-witted humor. You thought about how he had put flowers in your hair while you were sleeping. There hadn’t been anyone to perform to for that, so wasn’t it real? Wasn’t it genuine?

In all reality, you may never know -- but that was the same for all friendships. Just because it was Loki, Prince of Asgard, god of notorious reputations, didn’t make it any different. Or at least, you decided that for you it wouldn’t. Because for once in his life, Loki deserved to be treated like just some guy. For once, Loki deserved a chance at a normal, boring, human friendship. That is, if he’d allow you to give him the chance. 

Glancing down at your dress, you felt that the odds were good. 

It took you nearly ten minutes to figure out how to put the thing on, but once you finally managed to situate all the fabric and step in front of the mirror, you didn’t exactly mind what you saw. The dress fit you well. 

The bodice was comfortably snug, with an extra fold of lighter fabric wound just around your navel. There were two layers of sleeves, which you found a bit strange -- one was skin tight, ending low on your wrists, and the other was an open stretch of fabric that attached at the seam on your shoulder and again at your wrist, leaving a billowing trail whenever you moved your arms. 

The dress was also surprisingly modest, the neckline ending above your collarbones, which you were especially grateful for. The skirts were low, just brushing the floor, but not enough that you were at risk of tripping. At least -- you hoped. You did a few test walks across the room just in case, and decided that you would be fine as long as you didn't do any dancing. There was no way you were getting roped into that. 

Glancing at the mirror one last time, you tried to ignore how messy your hair was -- not to mention all the pollen that was probably in it -- and slipped back into your shoes. You had to laugh at how out of place they looked compared to your Asgardian getup. At least your dress covered them. 

Raking a hand back through your unruly hair, you pushed aside the curtain and headed into the common area -- at the same time Bruce and Thor were coming out of their rooms. 

“Oh, wow, look at you,” Bruce grinned like a father who was seeing his kid off to prom. You laughed, nose scrunching up. Then you got a look at him, and you raised your eyebrows. 

“Damn, Banner, you clean up nice.”

He really did look great in his loose-fitting tunic, a stiffer piece that looked a bit like a doublet over top, fastened off-center with a leather clasp. The tunic furled out at a slant beneath his waist, the longer end stopping mid-thigh. 

“I clean up nice, look at you, you look amazing.”

“Oh, shut up,” you mumbled.

“Well,” Thor added. “Valkyrie has better taste than I thought.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, she does.” you scrambled to change the subject. “You both look lovely. Don’t tell me Valkyrie picked out your clothes, too?”

“Of course not,” Thor snorted. “We are perfectly capable of dressing ourselves, aren’t we Banner?”

“Uh… y-yeah,” Bruce unconvincingly replied, shooting a nervous sideways glance at Thor. You leaned closer to your mentor. 

“So who really picked your clothes?"

“I have no idea, he just handed them to me and told me which end your head is supposed to go.”

You giggled, covering your mouth at Thor’s annoyed expression -- which was definitely just for show, and you could definitely see the struggle he was having to not break out in a grin. 

“Alright, well,” you interrupted, hoping to spare Thor the pain of wounding his ego. “I guess we should get going?”

You both looked at the god, and a vague shrug was apparently the best confirmation you were going to get. 

“M’lady,” Bruce grinned, holding his elbow out to you. You eagerly returned his smile as you linked your arm around his, glad to have someone familiar by your side to help you through your anxieties -- even if he didn’t know he was doing it. 

With Thor leading the way, you tried to take a few calming breaths. You were about to attend your first party on Asgard. 

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

 ***

The party -- or rather, the feast -- was already in full swing by the time you three arrived. You weren’t late, but it seemed that half of Asgard had already crowded into the large banquet hall. Light, boisterous music filled the room thanks to a group of musicians sitting on a raised platform against the far wall, and a complicated-looking dance was already underway. 

Food was piled onto a long table at one side of the room, and a line of Asgardians were picking their way along the spread of roasted meat, towers of cheese, and plates of fruit. It was all quite impressive, and you felt your stomach rumble in anticipation. You hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and, thanks to the smell of cooked food filling the room, you were suddenly very aware of your hunger. 

The moment the three of you stepped into the hall, all eyes turned towards you -- or rather, Thor, in his bright red cape, impressive chest plate, and towering height -- and an excited cheer rose up. Growing nervous at the sudden attention, you ducked behind Bruce, instinctively grabbing his arm. 

He chuckled, giving you a reassuring smile -- though he himself didn’t look much better off, and he kept tugging awkwardly at the hem of his tunic like he hadn’t quite made his mind up if he was comfortable in it or not. You could understand that feeling. 

While your dress was surprisingly comfortable, no doubt thanks to Loki, you couldn’t help but feel exposed to all the pairs of eyes on you. Which was a little ridiculous as, again, thanks to Loki, your dress was perfectly modest. But still, with a couple hundred Asgardians staring in your direction, no amount of clothing would have been able to cover up your stage fright -- even if they were just looking at Thor. Hell, you weren't even on a stage.

But, thank the gods, after raising a jovial hand in greeting to his people, they all returned to whatever they had been doing. The band continued to play an upbeat sort of jig, and rows of dancers wove together like ribbons -- gliding back and forth in a flourish of skirts, weaving and spinning together so fast that simply watching them made you dizzy. 

While the dancing was certainly beautiful and did in fact look like fun, seeing it up close only solidified your decision that you wouldn’t be joining in if you could help it. Lucky for you, Thor headed straight for the food, leaving you and Bruce to trail behind him, wide-eyed and probably looking like two newly born fawns. 

Halfway to the table, a familiar voice swam out of the noisy hub of the hall. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Lord of Thunder.”

Valkyrie looked stunning, adorned in a chest plate the color of moonlight, with a deep blue cape tossed over her shoulder and her dark hair, worn down for once, framing her face. She looked like she’d stepped out of a painting. 

“Ha!” Thor barked. “Like you didn’t threaten to tear my balls off if I failed to make an appearance.”

“Woah, she did what? I didn’t hear anything about balls,” Bruce interjected, and you hid a laugh behind your hand. 

“Yeah, alright, so I might have said that. But hey, you’re here -- cheers.” She grinned, raising her own mug while pushing another one into Thor’s hand. 

“I’ll drink to that,” Thor agreed, lifting his cup up before downing the entire thing in one go. Handing it back to Valkyrie with a roguish smirk, he said, “What do you say to round two?”

Valkyrie arched her eyebrow challengingly. 

“Oh you’re on,” she purred, raising a hand and waving someone down, who brought them two more mugs. “Let’s see how sore of a loser you are this time, shall we?”

Thor gave a forced laugh, squinting peevishly at her before they began to chug their second mugs. Deciding to leave them to it, you and Bruce stepped around them and picked your way into the line for the food. 

The options were… overwhelming. You only recognized about half of the choices, and you weren’t about to begin guessing what the meat could possibly be. Filling your plate with a vast assortment of foods, taking a little bit of whatever looked interesting, you followed Bruce over to one of the few tables with empty seats. 

Valkyrie and Thor soon joined you, carrying their own plates and, of course, large mugs of ale. Thor plopped down next to Bruce, slapping a hand on his shoulder and asking him how he was doing so far. You felt your heart skip a beat as Valkyrie sat down on your other side. 

“Is this seat taken?” She asked in a smooth, low voice that should have been too quiet to hear in such a loud room.

“No, uh, not at all,” you replied, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. 

Valkyrie sent you a tantalizing smirk before biting into what could have possibly been a chicken leg. A very big chicken, that is. 

“So, Princess,” She continued. You picked at the melon slices on your plate. “How was your first day in Asgard?”

“Uh, really good, thank you. I visited the hot springs you told me about…”

“Oh yeah,” she raised an eyebrow. “And how was that?”

“It was fun. Really beautiful.” You took a quick breath and a leap of courage. “Though, I do look forward to next time…” 

What on Earth had gotten into you. 

You glanced shyly at her, and the look she gave you in return -- a quick flash of excitement in her dark eyes, a tilting smirk at the corner of her mouth -- told you that she knew you were referencing the ‘next time’ where she planned on joining you. 

“Hm,” She tilted her head smugly. “I’ll hold you to that, Princess.”

Feeling heat creep up your neck, you finally lowered your gaze to your lap, taking another bite of food if only to shut yourself up. You had no business attempting to flirt with Valkyrie, of all people. You saw her grin fondly out of the corner of your eye before she took another swig of her drink. 

But by the time she put it down, she was rolling her eyes and glaring up at someone over your shoulder. You could only guess who that might be.

“Am I late to the party?”

“I don’t remember inviting you, Lackey.”

“Pleasure, as always,” Loki replied tersely. Then he stepped into your peripheral. You smiled up at him, and though he didn’t return the sentiment, you could see his eyes light up in a way reminiscent of the man who had let your braid flowers into his hair only hours before. 

But then those eyes scanned over you, and you felt yourself wishing you could sink through the floor. 

“Green’s your color,” he commented, a sultry lilt to his voice.

“I don’t know,” Valkyrie leaned casually onto the table. “I think she’d look fetching in blue.”

This was absolutely too much. 

“Would you two leave her alone,” Thor butted in, earning him a threatening look from both Loki and Valkyrie, whose distaste for being told what to do was probably the only thing they had in common. Especially when it came to Thor. 

“Just because you said that brother, I’m going to bother her all night,” Loki replied, laying a hand on the back of your chair and bumping his hip against your side. 

You smirked, realizing that Loki had just weaseled his way into being able to spend time around you without seeming suspicious. Now everyone would assume he was just being stubborn. 

It was honestly quite brilliant. What an asshole. 

“Don’t make me throw you, brother,” Thor shot back. 

“Oh, I’d like to see you try--”

“Alright,” you interjected. “I’d rather not be responsible for some catastrophic sibling battle. Really, Thor, it’s fine.”

He squinted at you before looking up at Loki with an expression that was half-amused, half threatening. Unfortunately for Loki, it seemed that his brother was picking up on a little more than the God of Lies would have preferred. 

Well good, maybe then Thor could explain to you what the fuck was happening because you sure didn’t know. 

But unfortunately, Thor wouldn’t be doing any explaining in the state that he was in. You had only been at the ‘feast’ -- it was definitely a party, and Thor was practically proving that point -- for less than an hour, and already the god was fairly intoxicated. You weren’t sure how drunk celestial beings could get, but you were sure that Thor was going to be pushing those boundaries tonight if his pace was any indication. 

Just as he finished the last of his food, the band started up a new, very lively song, and immediately a line of dancers began to form out of the crowd. 

“Oh! Oh! This is a good one,” Thor announced, eyes widening with excitement. Downing nearly a full mug of ale in one chug, he hopped up and headed for the dancefloor, gesturing wildly for his friends to follow. 

None of them did. 

Valkyrie was the only one who stood, and it definitely wasn’t to dance. 

“Yeah, not drunk enough for that,” she muttered before waving at someone at the far end of the room. Her expression was pleasant, but she let out a string of curses in a language you were kind of glad you didn’t understand, given by the way Loki’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. 

“I’m off to be diplomatic,” she sighed peevishly. “Catch you later Big Guy, Princess,” she nodded to Bruce, winked at you, and flipped Loki the bird. 

“I have no idea where she learned that,” Loki muttered, his tone of distaste and genuine confusion causing you to burst out laughing. 

“What?” He muttered, sounding wounded -- but he wasn’t fooling you. Then he caught sight of Thor, who was still waving at the three of you while failing horribly at keeping rhythm with the rest of the dancers. 

“Norns help us,” Loki breathed, eyes rolling up to the ceiling. Keeping a scrutinizing eye on his brother, who was swinging a laughing woman around by her waist before trading her off with another dancer, Loki sat down next to you. 

The dance was complicated and reminded you of a faster version of an old ballroom dance. The participants created a line on either side of the room, and the steps consisted of both lines weaving around one another, partners being switched around in a flourish of whirls and spins. Your head spun just watching them, but you couldn’t deny that it looked a little fun. Maybe just a little. 

“Enjoying your evening so far?” 

You looked over to find Loki watching you -- which was something that no longer came as a surprise -- and offered him a smile. 

“Yes, thank you. It’s… well, it’s a lot, but I’m having a good time.”

“I’m glad. Not many Midgardians get to experience a party like this.”

“No no,” you raised a finger, then proceeded to do a horrible impression of Thor. “It’s a feast.”

Loki snorted, nearly choking on his drink. Lifting a hand to his mouth, he regained his composure as Bruce looked over at the two of you with glaring suspicion.

“Yes,” he managed to reply after another cough. “My brother can be rather particular until he’s gotten a few pints in him.” He raised his eyebrows, gesturing towards the god, who was dancing boisterously with the rest of the group. 

You smiled, glad that Thor was having fun. It was nice to see him so at home, so different from the stoic hero role that he had to play on Earth. 

Loki cleared his throat, and you tore your eyes away from the dance floor to look at him. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh, I don’t know -- not sure I want to re-live last night,” you chuckled, still feeling the burn of embarrassment from Loki having to take your drunk ass home. 

“Of course,” he quickly reassured. “But, uh… Asgardian wine is far less potent than its ale. If you’re interested.”

You’d never seen Loki this… awkward. Like he was trying to say all the right things but wasn’t sure how to go about doing that. It was quite endearing, not to mention adorable -- you could call the man who had come head to head with the Avengers and nearly destroyed Earth ‘adorable.’ But yet, he was. 

“What the hell,” you muttered. You were at a party after all. “Sure, why not.”

Loki raised a questioning eyebrow, and you nodded. With a small smile, he stood and headed for the banquet table, his green cape whisking elegantly behind him.

“What the hell was that?”

You spun around to find Bruce staring at you with a grimace of concern. 

“What?” You asked innocently. 

“Uh, Loki of Asgard just asked if he could get you a drink,” Bruce waved his hand above the table as if that would explain why he was so baffled. 

“Yeah, and?” You laughed, finding his disbelief humorous -- and imagining what he would say if he knew the god had acted out Shakespeare with you. 

“And? -- and, this is the guy that tried to kill all of us because we had to stop him from taking over Earth,” He whispered, leaning closer to you and accentuating his points with an array of hand gestures. 

“Bruce,” you warned, suddenly feeling protective. “I know this is going to sound cliché, but that was in the past. I’m not going to judge him for the things he’s done, I’m going to judge him for the things he does, and he’s been nothing but kind to me, so…”

Bruce opened his mouth, but whether it was from shock or to make an attempt at changing your mind, you would never find out, because at that moment Loki returned carrying two small goblets. 

“Here we are,” He declared, setting one of them down in front of you before taking his seat. 

“Thank you Loki,” you replied, smiling warmly. Your heart did a little leap as you watched the tips of his ears turn pink. Chancing a glance at Bruce, the scientist was looking around the room like someone had just told him that the meat on his plate was actually unicorn. 

“My pleasure,” Loki politely replied, taking a sip out of his own goblet. 

You did the same, immediately finding that you much preferred the wine over what you’d had last night. It was fruity, with just enough of a sour bite to wake you up. 

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence. You and Bruce finished your food, and Loki sat and divided his attention between watching you and scanning the banquet all. While his demeanor remained lazy and disinterested, you would have given anything to know what was going on in his head.

Eventually the song ended, and the band switched to another one -- which sounded almost identical to the last. Loki rolled his eyes and groaned miserably. 

“Does everyone in this room have disgustingly poor taste?” He muttered, and you hid your smirk with another sip of wine. 

The alcohol was starting to warm you up, and you were relieved to find that Loki had been right: it was much less intense than ale. It gave you enough of a buzz to feel unbothered by the party roaring around you, but not so much that you were at risk of feeling miserable come morning. 

Your tipsy state was likely the only reason Thor managed to drag you out onto the dancefloor. 

The moment the song changed, the God of Thunder was making a beeline for your table. 

“Come on,” he drawled, voice slurring. “Someone join me.” 

When he was met with blank stares, he rolled his eyes in a way that reminded you that he and Loki were brothers. 

“If one of you two doesn’t dance with me, then I’ll have to partner up with Loki.”

“Over my dead body,” Loki growled.

“Come on, Y/N,” Thor goaded, stalking around the table to where you were seated. 

“Oh, no, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!”

“No, really, I--”

You let out a barely muffled shriek as Thor hooked an arm around your waist and hauled you upward. 

“Thor,” Loki jumped up, immediately on the defense, but any attempts he would have made to stop his brother were abandoned as you began to laugh brightly. 

Thor, ever the dork, had grabbed your hands and was dancing you towards the center of the room. He looked utterly ridiculous, wiggling his hips and shimmying your arms back and forth, but his mood was infectious, and soon you were giggling so hard you nearly tripped on your way into the crowd. 

But Thor caught you with a firm arm around your waist, and, despite his obvious drunkenness, began to show you the steps of the dance. It took several tries, a few of which sent you bumping into people, but soon enough you were dancing along with everyone else. As you wove in and out of the lines of people, Thor never strayed far from your side. 

It was… actually fun. The crowd was so big, and everyone was doing the same thing as everyone else, so it didn’t leave much room for you to worry about how you looked or if anyone was staring at you -- you simply moved in time with the music and followed Thor’s lead. 

As soon as the song ended, moving swiftly onto the next one, you and Thor were of the same mischievous mind.

Banner never stood a chance. 

The second he saw the two of you headed for him, he began protesting before you were even close enough to hear. 

“Come on Banner, your turn,” Thor insisted, grabbing him around the shoulder. 

“No, I mean it guys, really--”

“Oh, come on, Bruce,” you pleaded. “If I can do it, you can. And look, I’m having fun.”

“She’s having fun,” Thor repeated, gesturing to you. 

“Guys, I really don’t think that--”

With Thor on one arm and you on the other, Bruce was dragged onto the dance floor. He did a bit of pouting, which was really just him getting his nerves out, before realizing exactly what you had: that literally no one cared. Half the room was probably drunk, and everyone was having too much of a good time to notice the two Midgardians who were figuring things out. 

Taking Bruce as your partner now, you helped guide him through the steps, swinging him this way and that until all three of you were laughing hysterically. By the time the song was over, you were panting for air. The laughter probably wasn’t helping. Bruce and Thor were bickering, as per usual, and it was cracking you up so badly that you were doubled over with a side stitch. 

“I need a breather,” you managed, but by this point, neither Thor nor Bruce could spare enough attention to convince you to stay, so you made your way over to the sidelines. 

Leaning back against a pillar, you propped your hands on your hips and worked on catching your breath.

“Having fun, Little Mouse?”

You jumped, spinning around to find Loki standing close enough for you to feel his breath as he laughed softly.  

“Stop doing that,” you muttered, but you were having a hard time hiding your smirk. 

“Oh? And tell me, do you really want me to stop?” He asked, voice laced with mischief. 

“No,” you replied honestly, exhaling a small laugh. 

“Hmm,” was Loki’s only reply, and he handed you your goblet from earlier. 

“Thanks.” you took a sip. 

“Mhm. Figured you’d need it if you are to continue dancing with my brother."

"Oh shit, are you jealous?" You swayed slightly, elbowing him playfully in the side.

"Hardly," Loki scoffed, and his gentle smile made you believe him. You tilted your head. 

“Good.” your voice was a murmur, barely audible above the sounds of the party swirling around you. Loki tilted his face towards you, his expression growing far away as he peered into your eyes. 

But then Thor and Bruce were bustling over, and you watched as Loki’s face shifted from contemplative to cold and pretentious as he slipped back behind his mask -- something he was so good at doing that it made you want to cry. He had lived his whole life hiding. 

“Whew, you’re missing out on all the fun, brother,” Thor panted, slapping a hand on Loki’s shoulder, who swayed with the momentum. 

“I assure you, I am having plenty of fun.” You didn’t miss the way that Loki’s eyes found yours. 

Still hanging off of his brother’s shoulder, Thor waved down a servant, eagerly accepting another drink. He offered one to Bruce, but the scientist shook his head. 

“I’m pretty sure I've already destroyed my liver from last night alone,” he muttered, and you giggled as Thor tried to convince him otherwise.

Loki raised his eyebrows humorously, and you watched as a flash of green lit his goblet and it refilled itself. You gave him an open-mouthed grin. 

“Woah, how’d you do that?”

He leaned an inch closer in a gesture of teasing secrecy. 

“There’s a wine cellar directly beneath us,” he replied. Your eyes widened in amusement, a grin deepening on your face and causing the corner of Loki’s mouth to twitch. 

He was still watching you as he leaned back -- right into his brother’s side, who was still hanging onto him -- and you made a show of knocking back the rest of your wine. Swallowing it in a single mouthful, you arched an eyebrow at him. 

Giving you a somewhat scandalous smirk, he turned his attention to the rest of the room as a blink of green light immersed your cup. You watched as wine began to creep up from the bottom, stopping just above the midway point. When you looked back up, Loki was staring at you with a fond, if not piercing expression. 

You smiled your thanks, and he gave you a quick wink. Oh how you wanted to grab him by the front of his fancy leather getup and tackle him to the ground. But unfortunately -- or perhaps fortunately -- you were no longer in the hot springs or the meadow. No, you were in a palace. Technically his palace, and you suspected that none of the parties involved would have appreciated you roughhousing their prince. 

So instead you had to settle for rolling your eyes dramatically -- to which he gave you an ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re on about’ look before turning to try and pry his brother’s arm off of his shoulder. By a stroke of luck, Thor had just finished his most recent mug of ale and turned away to pass it off to the nearest servant. 

By the time he turned back around, the band had started up another song -- only this time, it wasn’t the usual rowdy, upbeat tempo. It was a waltz.  

The crowd of dancers broke off into pairs as people grabbed the hands of partners and began to sway to the smooth, placid tune. You watched the dancers with a faint smile on your face, noticing how some partners were laughing with one another while others were whispering sweetly, their faces bright with love. 

“Hey, should we dance?” Bruce suddenly asked, glancing over to Thor -- who took a moment to realize the man was talking to him. “I think we should dance--”

“Mehhhh, I don’t think we should dance,” Thor insisted, his voice reaching a pitch that you wouldn’t have thought possible for someone like him. 

“Why not? Everyone’s dancing. Look -- those guys are dancing.” Bruce pointed into the crowd, where an Asgardian was attempting to spin his much taller partner. The two men laughed, leaning towards one another and bumping foreheads. 

“I’m pretty sure those guys are married,” Thor replied, a slightly pained expression on his face. 

“Yeah, and we’re work friends, same thing.”

“I don’t think that is the same thing, actually. It’s… weird.”

“What-- ‘weird’? It’s not weird, just don’t make it weird,” Bruce shrugged, hunching his shoulders. 

“Mm, it’s a little weird--”

“Oh come on, brother,” Loki interjected, rolling his head so he was looking at Thor with a smug glint in his eye. 

Thor opened his mouth before shutting it with a snap. 

“I don’t… oh, what the hell. Alright,” he muttered. Bruce tilted his head like a confused puppy, and his big brown eyes grew adorably shy as Thor approached and held out his hand. 

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Thor muttered, enough fondness in his voice to encourage Bruce to take his hand. 

You watched them make their way onto the dance floor, probably feeling just like Bruce had when Loki had offered you a drink; as if you’d just been hit upside the head. 

“They…” You started, still staring after them. 

“Mmhm,” Loki nodded, rocking back on his heels. 

“How long have--  How did I not… the fuck?”

“Let’s see,” Loki hummed and then began to rattle off the answers to your questions. “Ever since he helped us fight our sister, you’re not very observant, and -- as I’ve already told you -- a poor judge of character, and no, I don’t believe they’ve…” he let out a low whistle. 

“Okay,” you waved a hand, trying to get a handle on all of… that. Bruce and Thor. Holy shit. 

But you didn’t have much time to try and process one shock before you were onto the next. 

With a sudden sense of purpose, Loki turned toward you. 

“Here, give me your cup.”

“Hmm, why?” you asked, but you handed it to him anyway. 

Glancing down at the two cups in his hands, he gave them an annoyed look and they disappeared. 

“Loki?” you chuckled, confused. 

You weren’t confused for long. 

“My Lady,” he bowed low, one hand tucked behind his back, the other held out to you palm up. After a moment, he raised his head, gazing up at you through those beautiful dark eyelashes. 

“May I have this dance?”

“Oh, uh… I, um… I don’t really do the whole… slow dance thing…”

“Excellent,” he straightened up. “Neither do I. Come on.”

All it took was a gentle jerk of his head and you played right into his hands. Literally. 

Placing your palm against his, you let him lead you towards the center of the room, never taking his eyes off of you. Then again, you hadn’t taken your eyes off of him either. 

As you delved into the crowd of dancers, everything that was happening began to catch up with you. Glancing around nervously, you suddenly felt a little claustrophobic. But then Loki slid a hand around your waist to the small of your back, gently guiding your hand to his shoulder before lifting the other one, engulfing it in his palm. 

“Deep breaths, Mouse,” he said, smirking as you suddenly remembered that oxygen was essential to your survival. 

Finally, you managed to glance up at him. Loki was watching you carefully, and you offered him a weak smile to let him know he wasn’t holding you against your will. That seemed to ease his mind enough that he smiled back and began to move. 

You looked down, watching his feet as they guided your steps, the firm hand on your waist helping to further direct you. You’d only ever seen slow dancing in movies -- you had never done it in real life. But after a moment, your body adjusted to the consistent steps, grateful that Loki was such a good partner. 

“You look ravishing,” he murmured, tilting his head to peer down at you. You felt your face heat up. 

“Oh jeez, that is a strong… strong word, I don’t know about that,” you laughed nervously. Loki frowned. 

“Please, spare me your self-depreciation disguised as modesty. You look lovely. Anyone with eyes can see it -- even Heimdall if he were here. Yet you still cannot?” he said it like a question he knew the answer to. 

“I’m,” you floundered, overwhelmed by his blatant kindness. “I’m trying to, but… I guess not.”

Loki’s frown deepened.  

“What a shame,” he whispered. You dropped your gaze, somehow feeling like you’d disappointed him -- surprised by how much you hated the feeling. 

A finger hooked beneath your chin, tapping it gently. When you lifted your head, you found Loki giving you an understanding smile. 

“Your thoughts cannot escape me, Little Mouse, even without my magic. None of that, alright? I simply will not stand for you feeling worse about yourself on my behalf.”

“No, it’s just…” How could you tell him that he was sort of freaking you out? That his kindness was cutting into you like a blade, and, as much as you wanted to believe his words, you just couldn’t understand where they were coming from?

“Hold on,” Loki interjected. “Before you start thinking too hard, I’m going to spin you.” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes before smiling up at him. 

“Okay, but I’ve never done this be--yoah!” You yelped as Loki lifted your arm and twirled you around, bringing you safely back into his arms and returning his hand to your back. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he breathed, giving you a grin that you couldn’t help but return. 

“I hate to admit that you’re right--”

“Oh, but you’re going to anyway.”

“Don’t push it, hotshot,” you smirked, rolling your eyes. 

“How have those not gotten stuck in the back of your head, my dear? I mean really, it’s quite impressive…” 

Feeling intoxicated by the energy in the room, you found yourself laughing without restraint. Loki’s smile deepened, and his eyes turned soft. 

“You have a beautiful smile,” he whispered, causing you to snap your mouth shut for fear you’d misheard him. 

“What?” You asked, and you must have sounded disbelieving because Loki’s brow drew together almost sadly. 

“Remember, darling, that despite all her misgivings, Miss Eyre was just as deserving of love as Rochester. Though,” he added. “I do believe it took her the entirety of the book to figure that out.”

Your eyes widened, gazing searchingly into his own -- this strange god who you’d just met, who was notorious for being cold and villainous; who, in the time since you’d met him, had shown you so much kindness you hardly knew what to do with it all. 

“How dare you use my favorite literature against me,” you finally managed, chuckling weakly.

He laughed -- one of what you had begun to recognize as his genuine laughter, with teeth bared and beautiful crow’s feet -- and, to your shock, tugged you a bit closer to him. 

“I’m only taking a page out of your book, darling.”

“Oh my god, was that a pun?” you grinned, leaning into his chest. 

“Norns -- alright, poor choice of words. Leave it to you to ruin this very touching moment.”

He poked you in the ribs and you barely repressed a shriek, flinching forward -- and smashing right into the front of him. He let out a soft oof, grinning again as his arm tightened around your waist. 

“Stop that,” you muttered, and he gave you a look of helpless innocence. 

“Why, stop what, my dear?”

“You’re such a little sh-- woah,” you scrambled to grab onto his shirt as he dipped you, keeping a firm hold on your hand as the other supported your back. 

The song was coming to an end, and Loki carefully pulled you up as the last few notes rang through the banquet hall. Though you were standing now, your hand remained stuck to his shirt. 

“Jeez, give a girl a warning next time,” you panted, feeling a little wobbly on your legs. 

“My apologies,” Loki replied. He was almost as out of breath as you were. 

You shook your head, letting go of his shirt and smoothing it over with your fingers. If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought you felt him shiver beneath your touch. 

“So,” he began, swallowing. “Was dancing with me just as or more horrible than seeing me naked?”

You snorted, glancing around and hoping no one had decided to eavesdrop. 

“I would say there’s not really a comparison there, Your Highness.”

“Mm, I do love it when you call me that,” he purred, taking your hand and leading you off of the floor. 

“I need a drink,” you groaned, resisting the urge to smack yourself on the forehead. 

“I second that,” Loki agreed, raising his eyebrows. In a flash of light, two cups were produced. 

“This wine is different than the last,” he said, offering you one. “Tell me what you think.”

You took a sip. It was more bitter, surging through your body and giving a pleasant shock to your senses. 

“Perfect,” you replied. 

Pleased, Loki took a sip of his own. 

Out of the crowd, Bruce and Thor emerged, making their eager way towards you. Bruce gave you a ‘just checking in’ look, and you nodded, grinning up at Thor as the god dropped his arm onto your shoulder. 

“I hope my brother didn’t give you too hard of a time -- eh, Loki?”

Loki rolled his eyes, seemingly unaffected by Thor’s words beyond mild annoyance. Even so, you were more than willing to defend him. 

“Not at all,” you insisted, smiling between the two brothers. But before you had a chance to say anything else, the conversation was interrupted by the reappearance of a familiar face. 

“Lackey, I need you for a minute,” Valkyrie commanded, shooting you and the others a quick smile. 

“Beg your pardon -- could you repeat that?” Loki replied, playing up his shock. 

“I asked nicely, if I have to ask a second time it will be in a distinctly less pleasant manner.”

“Ooh,” Loki purred. “I like where this is going -- hey,” he grunted as Valkyrie grabbed his arm, hauling him towards the other end of the room. 

“I’ll return him to you in one piece,” she shouted back to the three of you, winking before disappearing into the crowd. 

“Well, that was…” you didn’t finish the thought, but both Thor and Bruce nodded. Then the former shook his head and turned to you. 

“Now’s a good time to ask: is my brother holding you against your will? Because if he is--”

“Yeah, blink twice if you need help,” Bruce interjected, causing Thor to send him a confused, and slightly concerned, look.

“Blink? Why would she blink to-- never mind,” he turned back to you. “But seriously--”

“Thor,” you laughed at his very intense expression. “I’m fine, alright. I swear. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done completely of my own free will.”

“So it’s a mind trick, then,” Thor squinted, looking like he was about to grab your face to check for signs of… ‘mind tricks.’

“No,” you ducked back, holding up a finger. “No, it is not.” 

Wait, could it be? What if Loki actually was fucking with your mind? You immediately shut the thought down. That was cruel of you, to think Loki would do something like that. A realistic concern, sure, but for you to think such a thing after somehow managing to reach friendly terms with the god… that was just mean. Unless the friendly terms were not mutually felt, in which case you’d sorely misunderstood something. 

No. You weren’t going to let Thor’s doubt of his own brother get in the way of your newfound friendship. And anyway, if it turned out that Loki really was messing with you, what did it matter? Sure, it would suck, but you’d probably never talk to him again after this weekend anyway. No harm done. 

“Oh hey,” Bruce spoke up, eyebrows raising excitedly as the band started another waltz. “Anyone up for round two?”

You grinned at him. 

“God, I never would have pegged you as someone who likes to dance.”

As Bruce blushed, you threw back the last of your wine and handed your cup to Thor. 

“Would you mind setting this somewhere for me?” you asked, and he gave you a thumbs up. 

Holding your hand out, Bruce took it and led you back onto the dance floor. 

“How’re you doing, kid?” He asked once the two of you had merged into the crowd of other dancers.

“Good,” you nodded, stepping around him in a small, lazy circle. 

“Good,” he repeated. “I’m glad you came.” He gave your hand a light squeeze, and you smiled warmly at your mentor. 

“Me too.”

And as you spun through the dance hall, surrounded by whirling skirts and smiling faces, you couldn’t have expressed just how true that statement was.

***

Taglist:  @itsamedeemonee @mischief2manage @sabxism @princess-ofthe-pages @80strashbag ((let me know if you would like to be added!!))

[neakco]

Hiccups

Original prompt from @san-fics though some changes have been made.

Marinette has hiccups and her friends try to scare her all day but it doesn't work. Unexpectedly, A teen approaches, turns her to himself and kisses her deeply, shocking her. The hiccups are gone...

Masterlist Ao3

Marinette groaned in despair, or tried to before yet another blasted hiccup cut her off.

This had been going on since the start of school. Even Adrien had tried to help her by pulling his appear out of nowhere trick. Which worked only in the way that it scared her. The hiccups, sadly, had stayed.

It had gotten so bad that their teacher gave up trying to teach after lunch and just had her classmates try to come up with a cure.

Alya told a nightmare inducing story. Girl really had a talent as she probably wouldn’t be sleeping for a week.

Alix and Kim tried to help her drink a glass of water upside down through a paper towel. Effective water boarding method but it did not cure her.

Rose and Mylene tried to help her with meditative breathing exercises. Effective for dissipating her anger towards Kim and Alix, but again, no help with her hiccups.

Max started calculating percentages and organized the chaos that was her friends. She made a note that he was the most helpful even if technically he didn’t contribute a cure.

Chloe and Sabrina even stepped up to help with an offer of hot sauce. Apparently eating a spoonful is supposed to help, but all it did was make her mouth burn and eyes water while she continued to hiccup.

Thankfully Max set up Nino’s cure attempt next, a spoonful of honey and peanut butter. The science behind 8t was the same as the hot sauce, but again, no cure. At least it stopped the burning. She had actually thought for a moment that it had even cured the hiccups, but alas, it had only slowed them.

Ivan gave her a couple hits on the back as if she was choking and finally Juleka silently handed her a paper bag to breathe into.

All failures to cure this horrible le annoyance. Nothing worked. Science failed them, even her magic pocket God had failed her. She just wanted to go home and hide I her bed.

Her friend’s were having none of that, they would cure her, they weren’t quitters. So as they argued out what to try next, she decided cloud gaze and ignore her hiccups.

At least that was the plan until she heard the sound of small wheels rapidly approaching. She tried to figure out who it could be. Alix, the usual culprit when it came to rollerblading the school, was in sight. An echoing hiccup escaped and shattered her train of thought. Kim, the other possible suspect was also in sight.

She was forming a suspicion when an impossibly louder hiccup leapt from her. This one must have been bad because even her friends stopped their pointless arguments.

No, that wasn’t it. They were dodging out of the way of a skateboarder. A vaguely familiar looking dark haired skateboarder who was coming to a stop in front of her.

Her friends started to mutter questions. She opened her mouth to try and answer some of them when the skateboarder grabbed her around the waist and dipped her into a kiss.

She paled and the teen grinned widely before quickly riding away. Bastard.

After a moment to realign reality she took off after him. She could deal with her stunned classmates after she caught the bird.

“Tim you bastard!” She had to catch him and murder him before Kon heard what he had done.

She put on another burst of speed before tackling him to the ground, now several blocks away from her school. “How dare you kiss me like that when we both know you’re in a relationship!?”

Tim had the nerve to grin, “It cured your hiccups.”

She sputtered, they were gone. “but Kon...”

“Is the one who dared me to do it.”

“You weren’t supposed to sell me out.”

She swivelled to look at the teen in his signature leather jacket walking up behind her. “I almost had a heart attack because of your stupid dare. I thought you would kill us.”

Kon just chuckled as he helped bother her and Tim to theor feet.

Tim offered her a hand, “truce.”

She just glared at both of them.

Kon held his hands up in surrender, “Look, Nettie, we are in town to grab some info for a mission, just us, no other heroes. We came looking for you to grab permission since Paris is your jurisdiction.”

“We were trying to wait patiently, but your friends didn’t look like they would let you go anytime soon.”

She glared even harder at Tim, not really mad anymore but she wanted him to squirm.

Tim didn’t even flinch, he knew her too well by now. “Our plan B was to swoop in as heroes to steal you.”

Of course it was, she pinched her nose with a sigh. “Fine you have my truce and my permission to carry out your mission on two conditions.” She waited until both boys nodded. “ One, I get to come along to observe and keep an eye out for akumas. I refuse to have an even more overpowered superboy or a super Robin.”

They looked at each other before turning to her and nodding.

“Second, you get to explain to my classmates why I am not dating the “hot boy” that kissed me.” She waited as her words sunk in.

“Merde.”

“Good luck Tim, it was nice knowing you.”

She grabbed Kon’s arm before he could take off. “What makes you think that you aren’t going to help him?” She put on her sweetest smile as she steer3d the young super back towards her school. “My friends would eat poor Tim alive if they thought he was making excuses or using me. They will never believe him unless you are there to back him up.”

“Fuck.”

Tim smiled and laughed as he trailed after them.

Sure they were technically here on a mission, but it was nice to see her best friend and his boyfriend. Maybe if they weren’t pressed for time, she could arrange for a contest between Kim and Kon or a skating race between Tim and Alix.

[inkribbon796]

Egotober 2022 Day 31: Have a Happy Halloween

Summary: Anti is upset and needs to cause some chaos. J.J is just trying to keep people alive.

A/N: Egotober has been finished, hope to get more fics up more regularly.

Prompt: Happy Halloween

Characters: Anti, J.J

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Halloween was in full swing. People were running around and the more people were on the streets the angrier Anti got.

Anti was getting impatient. He’d been impatient for a while.

Eleven days. Almost two weeks.

Henrik was still in there. Two minutes in there would have been too much and Anti was pissed. Henrik was his, and no one got to walk off with him. Henrik still being in there made Anti look bad.

If the other demons found out that Anti wasn’t able to get him back, then it would be blood in the water. Anti controlled a lot of territory. All of Althone and a lot of Brighton was under his control simply not only because he was able to defend it, but because he looked like he was able to. But he’d start running into problems, especially from Phantom and the others who were already trying to cause problems.

But he couldn’t exactly run in and grab Henrik back from those lab coats, doing that the first time had got him caught and Henrik had just . . .

Anti massaged the area around his throat in memory. The pain long since gone but he could still feel the hit.

Getting Henrik back was the first priority. If he had Henrik back then everything would be fine. He could work everything else out. He’d kill the lab coats and burn down their building.

For the first time in Anti’s life he tried to be subtle about if. The heroes were always good about messing with his plans and fun evenings. So he’d tried to get them to blindly follow Anti and get attacked by IRIS. But the heroes were too cautious and the lab coats too nosy. They’d certainly been attacked, but Henrik was still in IRIS’s grasp. He couldn’t do everything he wanted without risking him getting caught again. He would have been thrilled at the wave of nostalgia he felt if he wasn’t so angry and frustrated.

Anti was within eye sight of the heroes’ base, on a building rooftop. A couple of heroes were around the area, giving candy. Most of them in Halloween costumes over their superhero outfits. And the people and scene was ripe for absolute chaos.

As Anti was plotting and trying to come up with something foolproof, he felt a familiar wave of magic pass over him and he braced for an attack. His eyes snapping over to where J.J was standing with his pocket watch.

“What to you want?” Anti demanded

“To help,” J.J said. He was signing with one hand as his other was still braced over the button to press it.

Anti braced to strike. “If I wanted help, I’d fucking ask for it.”

“No, you would not,” J.J signed and then held up his watch.

“Get out of here, not in the mood,” Anti said, already summoning his knife. A glitchy rift in reality at his fingertips.

J.J quickly held up the pocket watch in front of him, bracing to backpedal both in a physical sense and a temporal one. Anti paused.

J.J was frustrating and tricky to fight, and Anti didn’t have the patience for this. Anti glanced back into the crowds below. Lots of families. Lots of heroes. He’d certainly get someone to follow him over to the IRIS facility.

“I want to help,” J.J signed.

“Yeah right,” Anti scoffed.

“Henrik is endangered,” J.J’s hands moved quickly and Anti braced for an attack. “They cannot imprison him.”

Anti did not believe him. Him and J.J had too much animosity and Anti might let Henrik get away with stuff, but not the man’s teammates. The glitch glanced back at the trick or treaters. “Fuck off.”

Anti tossed a knife at J.J. As the hero was using his magic to dodge it, Anti left.

The glitch disappeared into pixels and wound up causing some minor panic but not enough to cause problems. He’d see which of the heroes he could actually use, and work from there. J.J was in his way tonight, but he’d cause some chaos, get some blood in the air, and then make a plan. He was getting Henrik back, and he was doing it as quickly as possible.

[gamequeenanya]

Tickletober Day 3: Magic

(Deltarune: switch!Jevil, switch!Roulxs)

...

"Hmm..." Jevil said from his prison cell. "So you're telling me you need a gift for your kid. He wants a real life magic show, huh...?"

Roulxs nodded, clasping his hands together. "Pleaseth! It would maketh his day!"

Jevil narrowed his eyes. "Riiight... But you need to do something for me first!"

"Anything! ...Within-eth reason, of courseth."

...

And so Roulxs found himself in a rather interesting situation.

Jevil was firing bullets at him from all sides, with Roulxs expertly dodging them.

"It's been a while since I had a show of my own!! Bahahahaaa!!" Jevil bounced around energetically. They were just outside Jevil's cell, Roulxs having let him out for the time being. The floor was cold under his feet.

Smiling at his playfulness, Roulxs cartwheeled all around the area. The bullets all missed him.

Jevil giggled and cartwheeled around as well. It was a while since he met someone who could match his energy.

"How about we add a little bit of tricks into the mix?" He mused, spawning more items that went after Roulxs. Feathers, paintbrushes, cotton balls, and various other things of the like. However, these ones followed him like a heat missile, and he found himself unable to dodge.

"Whahat is thihis?" Roulxs laughed at the upsurdity. "You can't do-eth this!! Thine is a cheater!"

Jevil traced a circle in the air with his hand. "Just you wait! Teeheeheee!"

Roulxs avoided the tricky items for a solid minute, which was a feat in and of itself. But then Jevil started to get bored. He chanted a different spell and made them change direction. Roulxs noticed, stopping in his tracks. But it was too late.

The items wiggled in the air at him. He giggled, putting his arms up to sheild himself. A feather came up behind him and brushed his neck, making him squeal. The other items followed suit, brushing all around his body and getting under his shirt.

"EHEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHHEEHEEEE!! JEVEIHHEHEHEEHEHHEHHEHEEHEIL!" Roulxs screeched, holding his stomach.

"Yes?" Jevil said with a smirk. Laying on his stomach, he kicked his legs like a schoolgirl on the phone. "Aren't you having fun...?"

"PLEHEHEEHEHHEHEHEHEHEASETH!!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHT THE ARMPIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIITS!!!!"

He shrieked as the cotton balls got his underarms. The feathers brushed his neck and the paintbrushes got his midriff, a small one swirling in his bellybutton.

"Ohhoohhooohoo!" Jevil laughed. "Are you having fun?!"

All Roulxs could do was shriek and pound the ground with his fists. "EEHEEHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAA!"

"Gee, you sure want that magic show, doncha?"

Roulxs nodded, tears falling from his eyes. It was so wonderful yet so torturous! He couldn't stand it for much longer.

Jevil snapped his fingers and the items disappeared. "Alright, funky little guy!" He jumped around excitedly as Roulxs caught his breath. "...Sayyyy, I think I could use these items in my show! Yeahaha!"

Wheezing, Roulxs protested. "Pleaseth... I cohohouldn't take that agahahaain...!"

Well, he probably could, but didn't want to be humiliated in front of Lancer.

"Oh, worry not ol' chum! It'll actually be me in the magician's box!"

Giggling, Jevil summoned a box which you use to saw in half your assistant. Roulxs blinked, confused.

"You are alright with that...?"

"Heheeheee!! Of course! Just use this saw on me, and everything will make sense after!"

Roulxs grinned at him mischevously. "Very well, then."

...

Later, a show area had been set up by Jevil and Roulxs, with a single chair for their audience member. Lancer grinned, folding his hands together and excitedly waiting for the show to begin.

In the magician's box, Jevil lay, his feet sticking out on the other end of the box. Coming over, Roulxs grinned, feather in hand.

"This is mine magical assistant, Jevil!" Roulxs said, taking a bow in front of his audience. "And this is yee olde magic box!"

He presented the box.

"And now to ensure-th it's really him in the box!"

Taking the feather, he brushed it along Jevil's heels, slowly making his way to the tips of his toes. Jevil screeched and laughed wildly.

From the audience, Lancer giggled. "Hehee, go get him, lesser dad!"

Roulxs grinned, and paused to take a bow. "Thank you, thank you!"

Jevil kicked his feet and kept laughing.

Turning back to him, Roulxs left the feather tucked between his toes and picked up the saw. He went to his midsection and placed it along the middle of the box.

"Art yee ready?"

"Hehee, yeah! Magic, magic!!"

As Roulxs sawed through him, Jevil giggled and laughed.

"Yeeeheeheheeheheehheeehheeeee! It tickles!"

Confused, Roulxs touched the sawblades. They had turned into a light blue fizzy beam of magic. His finger went straight through it when he tested it.

"Woweth!!" Roulxs gasped in awe. "That's quite-th the magic trick!"

"Heheeheheheheeheee, I know!! Isn't it fun, fun?!" Jevil giggled.

Langer clapped. "Yeah!!"

Roulxs grinned. He put the saw away. "Now then, to present that the magician is safe and sound!"

He opened the box and Jevil jumped out, still a ball of chaotic energy.

"Yeah!! But that's not all! There's more-more magic to come!!"

Lifting his top hat off his head, Jevil pulled out three plushies; one of Lancer, one of Roulxs, and one of himself. Lancer gasped and pulled the plushies into a loving hug. Roulxs looked to Jevil for confirmation.

"They're yours to keep, kid!" He said with a grin. From the hat, the magic was still brewing. A couple of yellow striped butterflies flew from the hat, and a rabbit hopped out, along with some magic sparks. Jevil quickly put it back on his head. "Whoops, can't have too much of it escapin'! Eheheee!"

...

After the magic show, Roulxs thanked Jevil.

"Eheeheheeee, always happy to entertain!" Jevil said, willingly trotting back to his cell. He peeked through the bars with a friendly grin. "Come by any time ya want, I'll be here all night!"

"Of course." Roulxs said. He was about to hand Jevil some money for the show, but he turned it down.

"It's alright my boi, I only accept payment via smiles and laughter!"

He smiled. "Well, I thanketh thee, regardless!"

Then Roulxs went with Lancer to talk about where to keep the stuffies in order to keep them safe. They were afraid the king would do something bad if he found them. On one hand, they could keep the toys at Roulxs' booth but then Lancer couldn't see them every day. Or, they could keep them in Lancer's room, hidden in a drawer or under the bed, but with the risk of the King finding and destroying them.

In the end, Jevil never found out what they decided, but he was glad they enjoyed them.

And hey, on the off-chance the King did end up doing something, Jevil added some regenerative magic to the plushies. The kid deserved something nice.

[alilmusebundle]

@thetraumazone from xXx                                                           ---

The faint stink of blood and fading adrenaline reaches her as Varik starts to talk. Being on the opposite side of her chamber/territory/laboratory/space, she didn’t catch it sooner. She frowns deeply, head frills folding back and whiskers stiffening.

Swiftly, she pushes off from the wall, bounding over the nearby table bubbling away with long term experiments, swimming through the air for a moment before slowly gliding back to the ground, dodging under and around obstacles of her own creation. Making her way over to the medical bay section as quickly as she can without knocking into anything delicate.

Her vision filters out the Varik-glow like adjusting to the sun from a dim room. It lets her see the diminutive form of the Scruff-beast exit, and the silkworm glow of her sea friend laid out on a bed.

After all this time, the smell of her bird-brains life essence bleeding out was familiar to her, like breathing and sleeping. Danger prone fool. Calypso was another story. The smell of salt-tinged blood was not a welcome one.

“Lack of death count is best, yes.” She growls out, raising her long body up onto her hind legs to assess the situation. Sensitive whiskers waving over both captain and siren, feeling for new curses and inactivated spells alike.

Sirens were masters of weaving songs of deception and sleep. Varik was, at this point, incredibly resistant to both songs, which was a boon in rough situations. Unfortunately, he was still susceptible to their dirtier tricks, such as magic curses and stabbing.

No matter what she tried, she couldn’t get his hide to withstand stabs from magic infused blades. With how often he loved to get stabbed by magical races, it was infuriating.

Calypso wasn’t resistant to any sort of magic at all. Even other sirens songs could affect her to an extent if she was caught of guard. Considering both her and Varik were human-cloaked, she must have been very off guard indeed. Thankfully, there was no death-fog present, so Calypso wasn’t in any danger yet.

“You are always soft-hearted. Do not lie.”

She leans over Calypso and breaths life over her wounded face and head, stopping the bleeding in it’s tracks. With that done, she takes the now useless crude bandaging off, tossing it to the side. At the same time, she roots through her inventory for clean water and the correct sanitation potion with one pair of hands, another snatching a clean towelette from the cubby under the table.

The clean water is used to wash the majority of blood off her friends face so that she can properly see the damage. The potion is opened and carefully sniffed to make doubly sure it’s the correct one- the wrong one could damage her scales and make them grow back wrong or not at all- before she applies it to the towelette.

She presses it along the worst wound, the razor cut tracks along forehead, cheek and eye-region, waiting for the faint sizzle that meant her healing magic had accepted the application of healing tonic and was working with it to fight both disease and possible curses. Then, she gently lifts Calypso’s head up to look closer at the head wound in her hairline. With a tongue glowing pink, she laps at it, both cleaning it of the grit that the water had missed and sealing it as if it were weeks healed already.

With that, she grabs another bigger towel to pillow Calypso’s head. She steps back and turns around, bodily picking up Varik from his half-sprawl against her records desk. Carrying him over to a table to properly look him over on. The bleeding wound deemed more important to deal with first.

“You attract sirens and collect curses like rat develops plague. Lay back, soft-heart.”

His poor shirt is ripped apart to get to the wound, the same life-breath treatment immediately applied as she mentally logs the damage. It looked like something long and thin, slipped up between where human ribs lie. In this form, it would certainly feel like his liver had been stabbed. Later, when it was safe for him to turn back, she would have to make sure it didn’t damage essential internal mechanics. For now, it would also get the sanitation treatment with the usual potion.

“Bring me to speed. Were the sirens killed or did they get away? Were you seen? Are we abandoning port?”

[destructive-rose]

Prompt: "Write a short story about a magician who loses their powers."

Beaufort Buxley's Magical Menagerie

Hot lights, smell of stale tobacco, and the particular mustiness of moth eaten curtains and old wood. This was the climate inside the small Thrice Penny Theatre, located on the corner of 1st and Sadie Avenue, and it was an environment Beaufort Buxley was all too familiar with— save for the sharp silence permeating the air.

Dust particles and smoke rose towards the ceiling. Buxley dabbed his forehead with one of the numerous multi-colored handkerchiefs he had just pulled out of his breast pocket. His little trick elicited not a single laugh or gasp from his audience, a stark contrast to his fonder memories.

Only a month ago, he had the crowd in an uproar about his ability to dodge "magic bullets" and swallow "flaming swords". In fact, over his illustrious 6 month career, he had attempted amazing feats of wonder and escapes. The rumors flew. He was a supernatural creature of inhuman strength and speed, he was a Satan worshiper with an unholy power, or he was an angel sent to work miracles, depending on who you asked.

In truth, Beaufort was a simple magician and slight of hand master, no better than the greatest thieves and pickpockets of yesteryear. One might even go so far to say he was a fraud, if they knew the secrets behind his many tricks. But even without that knowledge, the audience had grown weary of his performance.

They were unamused, uninterested, and unhappy that they had wasted their precious 50— formerly 3— cents to watch an utterly washed out hack job play his little games with the audience, all of which were entirely predictable. But the show must go on, even for the tragic clown.

"Er," Beaufort mumbled, fumbling with the handkerchiefs, "and now for my next trick, I'll need a member of the audience, please!" He looked around expectantly. "How about you, sir? Madam?"

The unlucky couple brushed him off. They didn't want to be caught dead sharing a stage with Beaufort Buxley.

"Er…. Anyone? Anyone?" Beaufort pleaded, traipsing around the edge of the stage.

Unfortunately, he was spending too much time on finding a good sport.

"Get on with it!" someone at the back shouted.

"Do I have a volunteer, perhaps?' Beaufort asked hopefully.

No reply. He straightened up and called for his assistant, Jessica, who wasn't due to go on for at least another 15 minutes. The buxom redhead came out in her shimmering flapper dress and full face make-up, forgetting her feather headband in the rush to accommodate a change in schedule.

Beaufort greeted her warmly with a deck of playing cards. "Jessica, my dear, please pick a card."

"Any card?" she asked.

"Any card!"

The assistant did as she was told. Buxley showed the card to the audience without looking at it and covertly slipped the card into his sleeve.

"Okay, now, watch as I shuffle the deck…." Buxley legitimately shuffled the cards around. Then, with a flourish, he produced the card from within his sleeve. "Presto! Was this your card?"

As expected, Jessica bounced up and down, clapping her hands a bit too much. She'd seen the trick done many times but didn't know the secret behind it.

"Oh yes, Mr. Buxley!" she crowed. "The queen of hearts, just like I picked! Wow!"

Less than a beat passed until they were heckled.

"Oh like we're supposed to believe it hasn't been planned?" someone shouted.

Murmurs broke out across the auditorium. The crowd was growing restless by the second. These outrageous accusations must not be allowed to circulate!

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Beaufort asked, stamping his foot for added emphasis.

"Your little card trick! The assistant is obviously in on it!"

"No! That's not true!" Beaufort insisted, but it was no use.

The audience had already been riled up by one baseless claim, and insulting a performer was infinitely more enjoyable than watching a boring act. They wanted their money's worth, and by God they were going to get it, one way or another.

"You're a fraud!"

"Get off the stage!"

"Yeah! Boo!"

Beaufort was really in the thick of it now. The words, although harmless, hurt his pride as an entertainer. Never before had he come across this level of hostility. He motioned to Jessica, who was equally appalled, to seek refuge backstage. The moment she left, someone chucked a wad of napkins at him, and then a full ashtray, and then came a volley of crumpled up playbills designed exclusively for Beaufort Buxley's Magical Menagerie.

Buxley ducked and dashed, dodged and weaved, all the way to the curtain, where he was finally safe from the merciless assault. Jessica was waiting for him. She was twiddling her fingers, not quite sure what to do with herself.

All she could say was, "Gee… tough crowd, huh Mr. Buxley?"

Tough crowd?! That was a severe understatement! They treated him like an animal. There was no nice way of putting it. Jessica meant well, but Beaufort couldn't reply, he was so distraught by this blatant disrespect.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I thought the card trick was neat," Jessica said before retreating into her dressing room, no doubt to clean herself up for the night.

He'd call her to discuss the future of their professional relationship later. It was out of the question to even consider closing up shop and ending his career prematurely, but if he wasn't tempted to do it right this instant! Feeling lousier than a wet mop, Beaufort went into his dressing room and closed the door behind him.

He had performed in some questionable locales before, but to lose the audience's faith and trust was the lowest point he'd ever reached. What he needed now was time. Time to think, time to process, and time to grieve. Beaufort sat down at the vanity and buried his face in his hands.

Only two words came to mind: "I'm ruined."

*****

After what seemed a mere 10 minutes but was more likely an hour, a sharp rap rattled the door. It was Richard, better known as Ricky. An assistant of a more physical nature, Ricky was in charge of hauling and setting up Buxley's personal stage equipment.

"Mr. Buxley, sir, are you still in there? The manager says we gotta vacate," Ricky warned. "She says she's givin' us 10 minutes 'til she calls the cops."

It was perhaps a rather crude way of putting it, but at least Ricky got straight to the point.

"Alright, I'll be out in just a second!" Buxley replied and rubbed his tear stained eyes with the palms of his gloved hands.

Then he stood up, brushed off his lapels, put on his top hat, and began to gather his various personal effects. If the manager wanted them to vacate, he wasn't taking any chances. He placed all of his stage makeup, various articles of stage clothing, and smaller props in their respective places. He'd have Ricky haul the chest out, but the suitcase could be carried on his person.

Upon opening the door, Ricky was standing stock still behind it.

Somewhat quietly, as quietly as a juggernaut could be, he asked, "You alright, boss?"

"I believe so, but I would prefer not to accept my new title of 'village idiot' just yet." Beaufort gave a half nod towards the dressing room. "And, Richard, if you wouldn't mind...?"

"Sure, Mr. Buxley." After returning with the massive trunk, he asked, "You didn't get hurt, did'ja boss?"

"Aside from whatever's left of my pride, I can assure you I got out completely unscathed."

"D'aww, those guys wouldn't know a good trick if it hit 'em between the eyes." Ricky clenched his big fists tighter around the chest handles. If he were born any stronger, he might bend the metal. "I always like watchin' your show! Jessica does too!"

The sentiment was appreciated, but Beaufort didn't have the heart to tell him this might be their last performance. Tonight's events already spelled certain doom for their lineup at the Thrice Penny Theatre. They'd have to skip town, change their names, and start fresh elsewhere, if such a thing were even possible. He couldn't ask that of Jessica and Richard. It was simply too much to expect from an assistant and a stagehand.

"Yes, well, you'll find your check in the mail," Beaufort said. "And I'll call you before the end of the week, as usual."

"It's been real fun workin' with you, boss." Again, he didn't have a way with words, but at least he was honest.

Beaufort patted the oversized man on the forearm, giving him a light squeeze. "Thank you, Richard. Now, if you'll please put that chest in my car…?"

Ricky did as he was told without question. He hauled the chest out the rear exit, hefted it through the alley, and placed it in the backseat of Buxley's Cadillac. Beaufort followed him, languidly chugging along. He was being ripped away from his place at the Thrice Penny, forcibly uprooted before his time. He'd have to be 6 feet under for it not to hurt as badly as it did.

It was only his stagehand that garnered his attention.

"Uh… boss, what's that sound?" Ricky asked.

Beaufort quickened his pace, hurrying to the driver's seat. "I don't hear anything. I don't know what you're talking about."

Ricky didn't seem so sure. "No, boss, I swear I hear somethin'." He turned around and around, trying to locate the source. "It kinda sounds like… a baby cryin'."

A baby crying in an alleyway behind the Thrice Penny Theatre? Of all the ridiculous things for them to experience in one night, an abandoned child was beyond imagination! Beaufort dismissed the idea entirely, but before he could open the car door, he stopped to listen and realized: the behemoth was right!

Barely audible over the noise of the busy street and whatever wretched performance was now going on in the Thrice Penny Theatre, the weak cries of an infant erupted from across the alley.

"Good God!" he gasped, pointing towards a set of dumpsters. "It's coming from over there! You don't think…!?"

Ricky didn't say anything. Instead, he made a beeline in search of the child. He pried open each dumpster and trash bin he could get his meaty hands on. And then the whirlwind frenzy was over. Ricky had stopped.

"Well?" Beaufort hissed, growing impatient.

No reply. Silence, tormenting silence. Beaufort couldn't take the suspense. He crept closer, glancing from side to side, hoping and praying that no one was watching them rummage through the theater's garbage in some twisted act of lunacy. He had half a mind to set fire to each trash can in this detestable alleyway!

To hell with the rest of these despicable thespians, these— these charlatans! Damn the owner and her threats of eviction! And damn the miserable audience for— for not being good sports about the whole thing! That's what the spirit of magic was, wasn't it? Knowing each bloody trick is fake, but still choosing to believe, in spite of it all!?

But no sooner had his revenge fantasy died had Ricky drawn his attention once more.

Gazing down into a trash can, the stagehand said, "Uh… boss? I think you might wanna take a look at this..." He was smiling rather foolishly, especially for someone who had just found what could be an orphan.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake…" Beaufort grumbled, finally joining the ten ton giant. He peered into the bin and let out a low groan.

There, laying underneath a folded newspaper, on top of a half crushed cereal box, lay a baby. She was no more than a few months old, perhaps. Aghast and dismayed, Beaufort's imagination wasn't getting the best of him. Oh how he wished this was all just some terrible dream. Any minute now, he would wake up and this horrible day would be over with.

Ricky kept smiling like some halfwit. "What'dya think she's doing here?" he asked.

"Why don't you ask? I'm sure she would be happy to tell you all about how her mother abandoned her!" Beaufort snapped. He was beginning to panic. "We must remain calm! This is no time to lose our heads!"

Ricky didn't quite know how to respond. Buxley handled stage pressure with relative ease. Anything else, however, was out of the question. He had seen his boss give into dramatics before. The man was an entertainer, through and through. So he figured it was best to nod and agree.

"Uh… Whatever you say, boss. Maybe we should go back inside and call the cops!" Ricky scooped up the tiny infant. "Here, boss, you can hold her for a while!"

Beaufort opened his mouth to speak but the words died before they could make it out. Ricky had shoved the little tyke into Beaufort's arms. He could do nothing to protest. The baby was filthy and smelled of rotting fruit and excrement… but she was also malnourished, freezing, and most likely in need of medical attention.

Beaufort's heart sank. She was helpless, welcomed into this world by someone who would only discard her later. Thrown into the trash heap, like yesterday's leftovers, not worth even a paltry 50¢... Yes, he knew a thing or two about that. Thank goodness they had been in the right place at the right time.

"Call the authorities, Richard. I shall stay here and keep our young audience entertained."

"Yes sir, Mr. Buxley, sir!"

The men went their separate ways. Beaufort resigned himself to the hardest task: sitting in the car and waiting. The baby had grown rather quiet, probably too exhausted to cry any longer, but she was awake and alert so he wasn't too worried. He stared at the baby, and she stared back.

Her eyes reminded him of a cow's— not all together lifeless, but empty, full of wonder, and devoid of any sense of self. He caught himself thinking she'd probably get a kick out of anything. He glanced at the chest in the backseat, and a strange thought occurred to him.

"Would you like to see a magic trick?"

The baby, of course, could not reply.

"Well, it just so happens you're in the right place, my dear. I am the esteemed Beaufort Buxley, and this is my Magical Menagerie! Watch and be astounded by feats so impossible, so extraordinary, you'll beg to see them again!" Beaufort announced.

From inside the trunk, he produced a metal spoon and a deck of cards. The baby didn't know what she'd signed up for, but the funny man with the big hat was doing something interesting, something she couldn't comprehend. She stared at him with her wide eyes as he held the shiny spoon.

"Behold, as I prepare to bend this spoon! This cannot be done by just anyone, but know that I am no ordinary man!"

By moving the spoon in a particular angle, he created the illusion that he had bent metal with the squeeze of his hand. A beginner's trick, one he spent hours in the mirror practicing to produce the desired effect.

"Thank you, you're too kind," he said, pretending to hear the applause of one so small, she barely had the strength to hold her own head up.

Proud of himself, he brought out the playing cards. Aside from the purported "dangerous" escape attempts, card tricks were among his favorites to perform.

He held the deck out to her and said, "Madam, I am going to ask you to pick a card, any card!"

To his surprise, the baby wiggled her fingers at the deck. She clenched and unclenched her fist, trying desperately to grab one of the cards.

"A keen eye!" Beaufort said, handing it to her. It was the Queen of Hearts, and he allowed her to keep it. "Now, I can assure you that this is an ordinary deck!" He thumbed through the deck to show her, going through the act with all his usual vigor. "I bet you one silver dollar that I can make the other queen appear!"

He shuffled the deck and then showed her the bottom. "Ah! The other queen, as I've said! But I wonder…" he trailed off and pulled the top card. "Another queen of hearts? Fascinating. There are only two in each deck, you know! But, perhaps…" Turning over the cards in their entirety revealed a full deck containing only the queen of hearts.

"Oh my! How can this be? I think you'd better give me that one back, and we'll settle this matter once and for all!" He took the card back from the baby and showed it to her. "I thought you'd drawn the queen of hearts, but it seems you've somehow gotten the ace of spades. I think you may have a career as a magician someday! Now, let's see…"

He inserted the ace of spades into the middle of the deck. Suddenly, it started rising from the center, as if an unseen force were pushing it out.

"Uh oh, it seems this deck won't accept your ace. Where, oh where, has that pesky queen gone?" He pretended to check his pockets, really hamming it up. "You don't see her anywhere, do you?"

The baby continued to watch, incredulous but absolutely enraptured by the spectacle playing out before her.

"Oh, there she is!" Beaufort smiled and reached behind the baby's ear. He slipped the original queen out from his sleeve and said, "I've found her! We'd best put her back. She must be furious by now, missing out on all this fun!"

The queen of hearts went willingly into the deck. Beaufort turned it over once more to reveal that everything had gone back to normal. The deck was no longer flooded with queens, and everything was in order. He gave a little bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Oh no, please, you really are too kind! I couldn't have done it without your help!" he guffawed.

The baby reached out, now grabbing at him. She was smiling a toothless smile, reaching as far as her arms would allow, trying to grab Beaufort's gloved hand.

"Oh, really, I shouldn't…" Beaufort teased. "You've placed my heart in quite the predicament… I don't have any children, you know, nor a wife of my own… My career may even be over before it's really gotten started." He laid his hand down out of habit.

The child followed suit, latching her tiny fingers around his thumb.

"You liked my tricks, didn't you?" Beaufort said softly. "I'm very happy I could provide some amusement, even if it was only for a little while. Maybe, after all this is over, I can start fresh, go someplace nice. Perhaps I'll join the circus! That could be fun!" He shifted, admiring the vice-like grip the infant had on him. "Children always appreciate magic more than adults do, anyway. All the adults I met today seem to have lost their sense of imagination, and I surely could use the change of pace…"

A traveling circus might do the trick at reviving his dying career. It wasn't merely a pipedream, and if he wanted, he could find a way to take Jessica and Ricky with him. The whole gang could travel together, doing shows, living life on the road. No more of this Thrice Penny nonsense! They'd see the world together, and eventually… Well, who knows? Perhaps they'd sell out the Majestic someday!

Beaufort tried not to let himself get too excited. There was much to consider, much to do to make this work. And of course, there was still the matter of the baby. Thankfully, in the rearview mirror, he could see Ricky approaching alongside a police officer. The baby cooed, making a soft gurgling noise as she continued to hold onto Beaufort's thumb.

He smiled fondly at the notion that they were both getting a second chance at life.

"Thank you, my dear, for changing my mind," he said. "You've no idea what you've done, yet I'm already in your debt. How can I ever return the favor?"

But Beaufort knew exactly how he'd repay his youngest patron. He got out of the car and greeted the police officer.

"Good evening, officer."

"Good evening, sir. This man here called about a baby?"

"The orphan is just in there, on the passenger side." Beaufort stood a bit taller. "We found her in a nearby dumpster."

"I heard. Poor kid." The man ducked down into the passenger side. He rose back up less than a minute later, cradling the bundle of joy in his arms. "It's a miracle you gents found her. I've seen a lot of things on the force in my time, but she's in good hands now. We'll get her to a doctor, find a temporary home, and make sure she's taken care of. She's young, so it's likely she'll be adopted quickly."

"Yes, I certainly hope so. She seems to have an acquired taste for magic tricks."

"Magic, eh?" The officer chuckled. Then he stared at Buxley for two seconds too long. "Say, aren't you that famous magician? The one with all the odd rumors? Gosh, what was his name, again? Beaufort?"

The magician gave a slight bow. "Beaufort Buxley at your service, proprietor of a Magical Menagerie of sorts."

"Wow! You're a local legend!"

"I'm flattered you recognize me, officer. However, I believe my chapter at the Thrice Penny has come to a close."

"Oh, is that so? I would've liked to seen your show. My son's crazy for magic. Y'know, Harry Houdini and the like."

"And you still might, at a place you might not expect. Not to worry, I have some other plans." Beaufort winked at Ricky, who was left thoroughly confused.

"Well, good luck to you. I've gotta get this precious cargo over to the precinct. Thanks again for your help in watching over her, and thank you, sir, for calling it in."

Ricky blushed. "I was just doin' my civic duty, officer."

The police officer nodded to both the men and went back into the Thrice Penny Theatre. It was a bittersweet moment. Even Ricky, who spent the least amount of time with the baby, felt emotional about her sudden departure.

Beaufort stared at the building's back entrance, whispering, "Until we meet again, my dear. Farewell." Then he turned to his trusty stagehand and said, "Richard, may I ask for your opinion?"

"Of course, boss."

"What do you think of the circus?"

Ricky thought for a moment. "Well, gee, boss. I think the circus is kinda nice."

"As do I, my friend, as do I…"

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 180

 “I think I’ve gotten the hang of this.” stated Ben as he did some more loops through the air.  He really seemed to like the zoomies, not that I blamed him.

 I had helped stabilize him a few times, catching him with my natural magic as needed, but werewolves had amazing reflexes.  Considering that he had never tried flying around on any type of drone before, Ben was learning fast.

 Having the same opinion on Ben’s progress as me, Four asked “Crazy, mind giving us more of a clearing?”

 She gave Four a cheeky grin and a thumbs up before a large section of trees on both sides of the pond disappeared into the ground.

 “That’s still a bit horrifying.” muttered Ben, realizing he had spoken aloud seconds after he said it.

 “Why’s that?” asked Crazy from right behind him, causing Ben to stumble forward.  She easily caught him before he could risk falling.

 “What if there was… I dunno… a family of squirrels or something in one of those trees?” he asked nervously.

 “Then you would have seen a splatter of blood!” exclaimed Crazy excitedly.

 Messy appeared behind her and thumped her head without Crazy even attempting to dodge.  “Crazy scared off all of the animals in the area while you were learning to fly, and I’m certain she checked for nests, burrows, and other animal homes before picking the location.”

 “Messy hates fun.” replied Crazy, sticking her tongue out at Messy and grinning when Messy gave her a pointed glare.  “No, she’s right.  No harm done.  I even helped the insects escape.”

 “I hadn’t thought about them.  How did you…” started Ben, stopping himself a moment after.  “Nevermind.  I’ll just tell myself it’s magic.  You kids are a lot to wrap my head around.”

 Grinning, Crazy said, “If you want something to wrap your head around, have you considered whether or not the trees will be the same trees after Momma fixes them?  Each will be from the same seeds in the same spot.  They’ll look the same, assuming she doesn’t make them better, but will they really be the same?”

 “Makes them better?” questioned Ben.

 “One of them had a bit of heart rot, which I doubt she’ll bring back.  Momma doesn’t have as much love for fungi as she does for trees.” she explained as she watched him.  “What do you think?  Same trees or different trees?”

 “Is this a trick question?  If the tree grows from the same seed, it’s the same tree, isn’t it?” he asked with a frown.

 “That’s the question.” encouraged Crazy, her grin widening.

 “If you were reverted to a zygote and raised by your parents again, your personality would probably be somewhat different, given that your experiences would be different.  Being genetically the same with a different personality would make you seem more like a copy to anyone who knew the old you, wouldn’t it?” suggested Messy, still staring at Crazy.

 “Okay, so that is a bit weird to think about.” stated Ben, who was now frowning at the empty spots where trees had been.

 “Right.  The future you would have ended up different had you never met us.  Ready for quidditch on zoomies?” asked Four for all our sakes.

 Aspy wouldn’t be excitedly swinging his beater’s bat for long before getting bored.

 “Sure.” stated Ben, though he glanced back at our quidditch pitch again.  His surprise when the floating hoops appeared at both ends was a bit funny.

 Four gave everyone a quick review of the rules, we split into teams—albeit larger than standard—and the game commenced.  With the additional players, each team had two seekers instead of one.  If any of us managed to catch Poppa Jarod’s devious snitch early enough, we’d quickly win.

 Glancing at my team’s other seeker, Rona, I wondered if her experience in the air would be an advantage.  Her eyesight was certainly better than mine, given that she was a wereraven.  On the other hand, I’d know if the snitch passed behind me without having to see it.  My psychometry wouldn’t allow me to miss anything near me for long.

 Dea and Valeria were the opposing seekers.  Though Valeria could certainly surpass Rona on sight and reflexes, she didn’t have as much experience flying as the rest of us, excluding Ben.  I still felt we had the edge.

 As the game progressed, I found myself enjoying the bludgers more than I had expected.  There was something fun about having one of those odd balls suddenly veer my way, forcing me to dodge.  At very least, they were far better than the snitch, which I had only caught sight of a couple times after what had to be at least twenty minutes.  This was giving me new appreciation for why quidditch matches could take so long.

 I dodged another bludger, shooting Aid a glare.  He had purposefully batted at me.  Given that we were on opposite teams, I felt a glare was appropriate, especially after seeing the ball spin back my direction.  I dove down toward my brother, knowing that he’d happily bat the bludger at someone else, and ducked lower to move faster when I spotted the snitch skimming over the surface of the pond.

 As I focused on the snitch, determined not to lose sight of it again, I trusted my teammates to keep me safe.  The scores were fairly close, but we were down twenty points.  If I just managed to catch the snitch, we’d win.  I veered slightly to the left when Valeria came diving down beside me, looking just as determined as I felt.  I saw through my psychometry when she nearly went into the water, but I didn’t have too much of a lead.

 The snitch shot off over the grass and then flew straight up.  Frustratingly, I missed the catch as I flew by it.  As if sensing my approach—which it very well might have given that Poppa Jarod designed it—the snitch had stopped, letting my hand pass over it before daring around me and continuing its assent.

 There was a blur of motion, and the game was called.  Frowning, I used my ability to see what had just happened.  Time reversed in my mind, and I saw Valeria backflip off her zoomie.  Her eyes were fixed on the snitch before she finished sinking into a crouch on the ground.  When she sprang up, the ground sank slightly, stealing some of her momentum, but she still shot up plenty fast to grab the snitch from the air.  I sighed, knowing that I’d never catch up to a vampire on agility or superhuman strength.

 After the match, we spent some time discussing ways we might improve the rules for our particular group, such as allowing magic for those of us who barely qualified for having a superhuman physique.  Catching the snitch with my telekinetic power would have been easy, but directly affecting the balls with magic was quickly ruled right out.  Then we ruled out fully caging the balls with magic, though blocking one direction was deemed okay.

 The discussion continued for quite some time, largely thanks to a tangent debate over why wands weren’t part of standard quidditch games in Harry Potter.  Even Ben contributed to the discussion, excited at the prospect of seeing wizards of that world dueling one another as part of a quidditch game.  Things would certainly be interesting.  By the end of the discussion, Four had decided to ask his dad about enchanting the quidditch balls to further enhance their speed and allow the bludgers to ram through magical obstacles.  We’d certainly be trying this again eventually.

[jessadamsdraws]

Redemption au

Summary: Macaque is fighting Mk and Wukong and things look like they was going him way but the rug is pulled out from under him and now his Master is none other then the Monkie Kid himself Mk.

MK, Monkey King, and Macaque had been fighting for what felt like hours. Considering MK and Monkey King weren’t at full strength yet were able to keep Macaque at bay spoke volumes.

Mk was draining though he could feel his muscles starting to cry in pain telling him to stop but he knew if he did monkey king would have to pick up the slake and end up being a big target like he had done before trust Macaque when they first met.

“Would you two give it up already? You know you can’t against me or her!” Macaque cried in Wukong’s face as they were locked in a fist stalemate.

“Please, like that old bone-head or you scares me. Even with my low power I could easily win this fight and you know it”

Macaque smirked but Mk could have sworn he saw fear in his eyes for just a moment. It faded as soon as he saw it but it was there.

“You’re always to difficult!”

Macaque exploded a burst of purple shadow energy knocking both Mk and Monkey king on to their backs, as the shadow monster that MK knew too well by this point came into view with Macaque in the middle of it.

“Really? That thing, again? Don’t you have more awesome powers then using the same trick twice?” Mk said to himself in frustration.

Macaque did hear him say that as the monster turned its head to MK.

“uh oh”

The giant fist came crashing down but Mk dodged it but he forgot to account for the wind as the wind force pushed him forward much farther then he anticipated knocking him off the edge of the cliff face.

“KID!” Wukong yelled as he attempts to dive down to rescue his successor but forgot about the monster as it easily grabbed him mid-jump.

“Look at you! The great Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven. How far you’ve fallen. Losing focus over a mortal human? Honestly, its pathetic. How I pity you. Not by much but hey at least I’ll be rewarded for this.” Macaque said being Wukong closer to his face.

Suddenly a light blue light appeared suddenly behind them. Macaque turned around suddenly to see an old man in a nice suit floating behind him. Macaque instantly knew who he was. He was the bone demons right hand.

“I got Wukong like she asked” he said sternly. There was no joking tone in his voice anymore. It almost sound like he was afraid but only to the untrained ear it would sound that way.

“Wonderful! My lady will be so pleased that she has the power of the Monkey king and the Six eared Macaque on her side.”

“What?” Macaque questioned as a magic circle appeared under him. He knew this circle. This wasn’t just a magic drain circle, no this would drain everything till there was nothing left. Not his body not his soul. It would turn them both into rare energy with no way to recover. This would be a faith worst then death. The worst part is that the victim can’t escape on their own.

“You old bastard! We had a deal!” Macaque yelled dropping Wukong as his shadow Monster disappeared.

“And you believed we’d honor it?”

Macaque just started wide eye at him. He had a point, why would they honor their deal. Their demons. Way more powerful than him. Macaque fell to his knees defeated. He could hear Wukong trying to punch his way out of the magic circle as it charged up.

“Macaque don’t just sit there! Help me!” Wukong yelled at him but Macaque didn’t move. Why would he? There was no point.

“Macaque!”

…

“Macaque?!”

…

“M-Man-“

Suddenly a burst of yellow lighting came though the circle yanking both Macaque and Wukong with tremendous force that caught both of them off guard. Just in time as both Macaque and Wukong saw the magic circle go off in a burst of light blue energy.

In that moment Macaque felt a magic spark and knew this wasn’t good as he felt in energy rap around his head.

Mk managed to grab a hanging branch before falling to his death had climbed up back to the fight only to witness what happened. All of it the betrayal and everything.

But what got Mk the most was the fact that Macaque just, gave up. He didn’t fight, didn’t yell. Nothing. In that moment Mk not only felt sorry for him but he saw himself. More accurately he saw his old self. The Mk before he started working for Pigsy, the Mk before he met Mei, the Mk when he still lived with his parents.

In that moment he felt his power kick in and it sparked into over drive and caused him to bolt with such speed he didn’t even know he was capable of.

They were miles away from that old guy and Mk finally turned back into a person again and not a bolt of energy fell onto the ground with both Monkey king and Macaque in his arms.

“That… was way to close. Monkey king lets not do that again.” Mk said lifting himself off the ground with his arm in front of him.

“Agreed. But hey you learned a knew power bud! Congrats.”

“Yeah! And it only took you almost dying for it to happen” Mk said dryly and Monkey king laughed nervously .

“Anyway, Macaque how are you- huh, Macaque what are you doing?”

Macaque was kneeling before Mk and bowing his head down. Almost like how Monkey king did with his master.

“Shut up Kid” Macaque breathed

“No way. Ohohohohoh hahaha” Monkey king started laughing uncontrollably

“This isn’t funny!” Macaque yelled raising his head up but not getting up from his position.

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s hilarious!”

“Mind filling me in on the joke here!” Mk asked slowly raising his hand as to ask a question in hopes the teacher would call on him. Macaque got up from the ground and Mk finally saw something on his head. It looked like the circlet that Monkey king once had but instead of gold it looked like Macaque’s shadow energy instead.

“You saved my life so… now… I…” Clearly whatever it was wasn’t something Macaque liked but Wukong decided to be the one to break the news instead and Monkey king jumped on Macaque’s back much to his annoyance.

“You’re his master kid.”

Mk had to do a double take on that one.

“wait, what? Master?”

“Yup, you see demons along time ago made this code thing where we could be super powerful and stuff but it came at a cost. If a mortal human ever saved our life we would be in their services. Or as well call this a ‘bond.’ So seeing as you save Macie’s life here you are his master now”

Mk looked like he was going to short circuit. He turned to Macaque in hopes that maybe Monkey King was just joking or something but when he refused to make eye contact with him he knew that it was real.

@urlocalllama

[celamoon]

Summary: Saiki isn’t supposed to have regrets, but he thinks that letting you wither away from him was his worst mistake.

Warnings: Hanahaki, Mild mention of Star Tears, angst

You first talked to Saiki in middle school. You had been classmates with him since kindergarten, moving almost always at the same time he did. You wondered if it was the universe telling you to befriend the boy.

Your only early memory of the boy was that he was the undefeated Rock Paper Scissors champion of kindergarten. He grew to be antisocial later on in middle school but you loved his hair clips so you asked him where he bought them. He had looked at you incredulously and had told you he had them custom-made. You wouldn’t stop pestering him about them afterward, especially since you caught him red-handed burning a sheet of paper.

“Is that…”

‘Don’t you dare tell ANYONE’

“Only if you finally tell me where you bought your hairclips”

Saiki looked 100% done with you and you had stuck with him ever since.

You noticed a handful of things about it Saiki after you started being friends with him. You noticed that his eyes light up whenever he was eating coffee jelly. You noticed how despite the fact that he claimed his friends were nuisances, he still hung around them. You noticed how his eyes were a certain shade of purple, and how he was much more caring than he claimed himself to be.

You had stuck around him despite knowing that he could read minds, and he had given you a germanium ring in your first year of high school, claiming that it was so that he wouldn’t hear your thoughts. You got a bit of privacy after that, and you started to wear the ring out of habit in your high school years.

The first issue came in your second year of high school. Saiki had managed to keep himself on the down-low so far, and you had stuck around with him as his self-proclaimed best friend. Nendo was his pal after all. He had caught the attention of Teruhashi, the school’s goddess. Saiki had told you that she was far from how she seemed, but you didn’t mind that much. She was pretty, and you didn’t mind at first.

Then came the petals. At first, you thought you ate something that had petals inside them, but it became clear when you wouldn’t stop throwing them up. You had caught Hanahaki, and you were in love with your best friend. You hid them well, and you never coughed despite how much Teruhashi was trying to catch Saiki’s attention at school.

The first time you weren’t able to hold it in was during PE. Teruhashi had made a move on Saiki, and he didn’t push her away. You had to excuse yourself to the bathroom so that you could let your lungs breathe properly. It was a bigger batch than usual, and you knew that didn’t mean anything good for you.

You went back to PE as if you hadn’t just thrown up an entire basket of flower petals.

The second time came when Teruhashi visited Saiki’s family for cooking lessons. It had become a tradition for you to visit Saiki every weekend. You had walked in, almost missing the familiar tuff of blue hair. You greeted the family, and you set the coffee jelly down on the table. Teruhashi had asked you if you were into anyone and you had managed to avoid her questions while doing Saiki’s suspicions at the same time. When they turned the tv on you felt your lungs collapse and you rushed to their bathroom to let the petals flow. They were stained with blood that time.

The third time came when you visited the shrine with the two Saiki brothers and Teruhashi. You stayed with Kuusuke after Kusuo and Teruhashi managed to dodge the influx of hate, and you had started to cough violently after Kusuo dragged Teruhashi away. Kuusuke caught you and you threw up a bud before him. His eyes widened and you had brushed it off as a magic trick you were preparing. Kuusuke didn’t believe you, but he let you off that time.

The fourth time came when Teruhashi asked Saiki out on a date for summer. You had been fine with the flowers so far, and the petals were still rather small other than that one bud from the shrine visit. But you felt your stomach lurch when you saw Teruhashi asking Saiki out on a date over summer. You ran to the bathroom, missing the look of concern on everyone’s face. You threw up premature flower blossoms that time. When you got back, you told them that you had a bad lunch.

Kuusuke called you the day of the date, and he had taken you out for a drive. When he passed the amusement park and brought you in, you felt your lungs tighten and you started coughing up half bloomed flowers. That confirmed Kuusuke’s suspicions. He brought you to his lab to run a few tests, and after the x-ray scan, he was completely sure that you had Hanahaki. He urged you to make a move on his brother.

“You can’t keep this to yourself forever,”

“I can,”

“No you can’t y/n, you’re going to need the surgery unless you confess,”

“Then how about this…”

You had made a bet with Kuusuke instead, if Kusuo found out about your petals first, then you would admit defeat and you would confess to Kusuo, if Kusuo made a move on Teruhashi first, then Kuusuke would fund your surgery so that you could get rid of those godforsaken feelings for the psychic. He agreed, sure that his brother wouldn’t be able to miss the fact that his own best friend was throwing up petals. You prayed secretly that Kuusuke would win the bet so that you could live out your fantasy.

You found that it was hard pretending to be ok, you hadn’t stopped coughing up flowers since summer, and that new transfer student who was rather close with Saiki wasn’t helping. Aiura was her name. She wasn’t as pretty as Teruhashi, but she was certainly different from the others. You had stopped talking as much as before, telling everyone that you had a rather bad cold since school started.

You had caught her clinging onto Kusuo like his lover one day after school. You were waiting for him to finish school so that you two could walk home together, but you had caught him with Aiura instead. The look on his face had you make a double-take before you confirmed it. You watched as she talked about their love life with the girl with pigtails, and you had listened as she talked about how active they were. You felt the flowers climb up your throat and had run away before anything else could happen.

The final straw came when Teruhashi was noticing the differences for everyone. She had spent the entire night memorizing everyone’s names accord to Kusuo, and you had listened to him narrate the whole situation. Kusuo talked about her quite a bit by now. You weren’t even surprised anymore when he brought her up. You parted ways with him to deal with your club’s paperwork at the office and the next sight was not one to be expected.

You had won the bet. You were heading outside of your clubroom when you had saw Saiki princess carry Teruhashi to the nurse’s office with your very own two eyes. You had won the bet even though you prayed that you wouldn’t. You had won the bet and that meant you needed to get the surgery. You prayed you wouldn’t win, yet it seemed that god liked Teruhashi more as usual. You ringed Kuusuke in the middle of the school day because of it.

“Hey, Kuusuke?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I won the bet…”

Kuusuke, as promised, sent the money for the surgery to your account. Now it was up to you whether or not you wanted the surgery. You knew you did, but a part of you desperately wished that Saiki would love you back so that you didn’t need to get the surgery. You were throwing up full-on flowers by now. No longer the buds you suffered from, no longer the premature flower blossoms you threw up once. You had little to no time unless you confessed to Saiki soon.

Then you remembered that he had let out an ‘offu’ at Teruhashi. You had heard it while you were nodding at him in class. It was loud, in fact, Teruhashi heard it but she thought she was hallucinating. You remember the sound of your own heart breaking when you heard it, you felt like the world had crashed down on you. It had happened a while back, but now you were completely sure about it. Saiki was in love with Teruhashi, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

The surgery was half a success, half a failure. Your feelings had gone away for Kusuo as promised, but you lost your voice because of it. You weren’t able to speak anymore; you couldn’t talk like you used to. You went to school with tears in your eyes because of it. The first person to notice was Kuboyasu, who greeted you but when you didn’t greet him back, he asked if your throat hurt. You burst into tears because of it.

The group gathered around you at the sight of you in tears. You never showed strong emotion around them, you only helped them with their issues and bottled your own up. You let out small hiccups and Nendou was surprisingly the first one to point out how you didn’t have a voice. You typed on your phone in tears, and you held it up for everyone to see.

‘I lost my voice permanently’

The group was in shambles afterward. Kaidou was asking how, Kuboyasu offered to beat up the person who caused it, Yumehara pulled you in for a hug. The group wanted to know, and you still wore your ring so Saiki wasn’t able to read your mind. You typed that you had gotten surgery for your throat since you caught a sickness and the surgery was a success at the cost of your voice box. You didn't give them any more information after that.

Toritsuka offered to summon a spirit to hopefully help you be able to speak again but you turned him down. Aiura tried finding out with her glass ball but it didn’t work either. Kaidou pushed you for further details. You didn’t tell anyone that the surgery was for Hanahaki. Nendou offered you ramen, in hopes that it would cheer you up, you shook your head no. Not that day at least.

Saiki was in shambles at the news, how had you even lost your voice to begin with? You hadn’t done anything and unless you got surgery within the span of a weekend, you weren’t able to have lost your voice. He reaches for your hand and tries to take the ring off. You ripped your hand away with a sad smile, signing him it’s ok, that it wasn’t that important anyway. Saiki was still bothered by it.

Akechi was surprisingly the person Saiki resided in for help. He was always able to figure things out even without it being written fully for him. Akechi didn’t even bat an eye when Saiki approached him. He had actually expected it. Saiki stood there in shock as Akechi explained about your sickness.

“She got surgery for Hanahaki obviously. She didn’t have a terminal disease or else she would’ve been hospitalized for longer than that. The fact that she had Hanahaki affect her throat as well only means that she was severely affected by the flowers. I think I saw her throw up coffee flower petals once. She was throwing up behind the school while we were picking sweet potatoes with the class. She made me swear to not tell anyone but since she got the surgery I assume that she’s ok with people knowing now,” Akechi rambled, and Saiki lost himself at coffee flower petals. She had been in love with him, how dumb could be he? He was a psychic for goodness sake!

You started carrying around a tablet to communicate with people better. You always wrote down comments about certain things, and you always laughed along with everyone. It was like nothing had ever happened. You acted like nothing had ever happened and Saiki hated that.

Saiki was bothered and you figured out quicker than he liked to admit. You knew him way too well. You had walked up to him after school one day asking if he was ok. He promised you he was, but you didn’t believe him. So you dragged him up to the room and forced him to talk to you about what was bothering him. He asked you the only question on his mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You had paused. He had spoken to you with his actual voice and you frowned.

‘Tell you about what?’

Saiki looked exasperated.

“About the flowers, the Hanahaki, the surgery. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blinked at him, shrugging before writing down your response.

‘It didn’t seem important’

You figured that Akechi had told him. Saiki groaned.

“I think my best friend throwing up flower petals is very important thank you very much”

‘It’s not like It matters anymore. The feelings and flowers are gone'

“But your voice-“

The loud noise of a digital pen was heard on the rooftop. The silence was suffocating.

‘But this, but that, it’s all over anyway it’s not like it’s important anymore’

Saiki chooses his next words carefully.

“Were you in love with me?”

You pause and nod your head enthusiastically. Saiki feels his own heart break.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

‘You liked Teruhashi. All the signs pointed to it and I got Kuusuke to pay for my surgery’

Saiki’s shoulders droop. It felt like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. He reaches for you, and you take a step back. He wants you to know he loved you too, he wants to show you how much he liked you, how much he was actually in love with you.

He finds it’s too late however when you shrink away from the touch you used to cherish and love. You excuse yourself from the rooftop to meet up with Nendou and the others for your daily after-school ramen. Saiki watches your figure escape his sight. The feeling tastes bitter to him. It tasted like that cup of dark coffee he had once watched you down after pulling an all-nighter.

Saiki isn’t supposed to have regrets, but he thinks that letting you wither away from him was his worst mistake. He swears he hears the twinkling of stars when he starts crying. Perhaps this was the universe’s way of paying him back.

[citydreamgrls]

a christmas treat

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 5,243

a/n: a very seasonal one for you,, hope you enjoy !! :)

warnings: swearing , smut , 18+ 

It had been a drunken mistake. A situation she should never have been in at all. But one final party before the summer break had caused that fateful moment she wished had never occurred. Y/n had been in the library all evening, in a lazy attempt to avoid the Gryffindor party altogether, but decided she would need to return to her dorm at some point.

She’d hoped that maybe they would have calmed a bit now that it was later in the night, but to her dismay the excited shouts sounded the second she reached the common room’s door. With one breath she slipped inside, wanting to pass by the group huddled by the fire unnoticed.

“Hey y/n?” A voice called out.. Her friend Angelina leant over the back of the sofa with a beer in hand and a smile on her face. “You joining us this time?”

“I’m pretty tired, but thanks.”

“Oh come on, you said that last time. It’s the end of term, just have one drink with us?” She pouted, but the girl held her ground and shook her head.

“I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“So do the rest of us!” Lee groaned, “Just stay for an hour then you can escape us again.” He joked. She took the bait, leaving her books on the table and slipping next to Angelina.

She noticed the twins, unfazed by their presence at any sort of party. But she’d never really paid much attention to them, at most times she could barely tell them apart. But with a few drinks in her system, and the need to sleep fading with each one, she noticed one of them in particular. George.

She studied his face subtly as it glowed beside the fire’s light. His was skinnier than Fred’s, with a slightly different jaw shape. His voice was deeper than his brother’s, and she noticed it more as he laughed with disregard for how loud it was and was always the one to start a joke. Then the mole, on the right side of his neck. That was the last thing she noticed before he caught her staring.

But he just did what he always would when someone looked too long, and winked carelessly. Then it was an internal battle not to blush like a child as she quickly looked anywhere but him.

He’d introduced himself not much later while she was pouring herself one last drink before heading up to bed. She’d almost choked at the sound of his voice, surprised that he was taking time to speak to her when he had a whole room of people at his command.

She was drunk, so was he. And she liked the way he smirked and leant down to her from his towering stance. Y/n let him take her ‘somewhere more private’ and fuck her.

That was it. But she reminded herself that he was drunk, so was she.

Nothing more.

So the next day she woke up earlier than the other’s and made her way down to the train alone, in case everyone knew what she’d let that tall redhead do to her the night before. But when they eventually joined her in the carriage, the only questions were about her rushing off so early.

Maybe he was embarrassed, she wondered as the castle went out of view and the lake came in. All that ran through her mind was him, everything she had done was fresh in her memories. So much so that she could barely remember herself being there, if it wasn’t for the hidden bruise he’d left on her shoulder she may have believed it was a dream.

He had felt like a dream.

But he was just drunk, maybe so much so that he had forgotten it all.

It seemed so when they returned after the summer, and he acted as though he’d never even met her that night. So her and the twins remained strangers.

At least until the Christmas break came around.

-

“I can’t believe they’re making you stay here,” Angelina huffed, often being the first to critique y/n’s muggle parents and their choices.

“It’s just a precaution, I’m fine with them. But when the rest of the family come round, all I want to do is hex them to oblivion.” She laughed.

“It’s wrong though, they’re scared of a witch who isn’t even permitted to do magic outside of the school!”

“It’s only a few weeks, plus I can start studying.”

“Oh good, get all the studying out of the way so we can actually have fun when I get back.” She grinned, snapping her case closed and looking round the room.

“Go, or you’ll miss the carriages.” The girl laughed and pushed her out the door.

“Please don’t spend the whole break alone? And write to me!” She called before rushing out of the common room.

Later that evening she finally did what Angelina had asked of her, both requests. But not quite by choice. She was sitting in the great hall having dinner, the handful of students that remained making it a very peaceful meal. Her hand alternated between eating, flicking the page of her book and writing to Angelina to tell her how boring it was going to be.

She wouldn’t have noticed the two boys in front of her if one of them hadn’t coughed to get her attention. Her eyes looked up, wide and caught off guard as they smiled back with the same face.

“Hello y/n” They said in unison, making it harder yet again to tell them apart.

“You've been left here too?” One of them spoke.

“I don’t mind it,” she said quietly, turning her head back to the book.

Her heart was racing, of course George would tell his brother about the party, she was dumb to think otherwise. But neither of them were letting on about it. Still, they knew her name. He must remember.

“I’m Fred,”

“And I’m George, the better looking one.” He winked, and she froze.

“You okay?” Fred asked, frowning at how she had stopped at the sight of George.

The girl just nodded, resuming her letter to Angelina.

Now it was confusing, she couldn’t tell whether they were pretending to be strangers. Or they actually believed they were. The twins stayed in front of y/n as she carried on her multiple tasks, they didn’t dare interrupt her until she finished her letter and sealed it in the envelope.

“You know we’re the only ones from our year staying here?” Fred told her.

“Oh right, how come you two are here?” She asked them.

“We were hungry,” George said, waving his fork in front of her.

“She means hogwarts you dimwit!” Fred slapped his brother on the head, making y/n giggle sweetly. She had always thought they were annoying, with their pranks and lack of care for anything. But seeing them tease one another, she realised they were in fact quite funny to be around.

“Mother said she’d had enough of cooking for us all, so we’re stuck here this christmas.” Fred explained, not seeming too bothered by his family’s neglect.

“Ron’s here too, and Ginny but I haven’t actually seen her yet.” George frowned, looking round to see if he could spot his little sister.

“Maybe she’s been eaten by that troll hagrid’s hiding in the woods,” Fred said calmly.

“That would be our luck, all mum told us to do was look after Ginny this year.” George groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Back up, a troll?” The girl asked, but both twins just nodded, as if this was known information. “Never mind.”

-

From then on they sat with her at every meal, always telling her about tricks they would play on the few remaining teachers at the castle. It was four days into the holidays when Fred and George asked her to hang out, a difference to the studying she’d been doing previously.

“We’re heading down to Hogsmeade later, you wanna come with us?”

“You know, seeing as there isn’t really anyone else for you to spend time with,” George had added. The girl still hadn’t figured out whether he remembered the summer party seeing as the only time she saw them was when they were together, but regardless she decided to take Angelina's advice and make some friends.

“Yeah sure,” She closed her book and finished her toast before standing up, “I’ll meet you guys in the common room then?”

-

It was snowing heavily and y/n was glad she’d put on an extra layer to walk to Hogsmeade, especially when the twins forced her to defend herself from an impromptu snowball fight. Even when she’d hit them both in the face they didn’t give up.

Being away from the castle felt much more fun, even more so with Fred and George taking turns to tease her. Which, surprisingly, she didn’t mind too much. It was never malicious with them, and if they gave it out it was only the rules that they took it too.

They spent the whole afternoon scouring the shops and drinking butterbeer until y/n’s legs felt like jelly and Fred had to give her a piggyback ride up the hill again. Not that he was very trustworthy after him and George raced to see who could drink a pint quicker, five rounds of it.

“Don’t fall asleep y/n,” George had warned as the girl’s head bounced lightly against his brother’s back. “Or Fred will dump you in the shrieking shack!” The girl pretended to be scared, but tried to reach out to push the boy away. Instead she fell off the side of her ride and brought him down with her.

All three of them burst into fits of laughter and spent the next 40 minutes drunkenly trying to complete the 15 minute walk back up to hogwarts. When they finally made it back to the common room, after dodging teachers in the hallway, they fell onto the sofa in front of the fire.

“Fuck, marry, kill…” George started, making y/n and Fred groan in fear of his next few words. “Snape, Lupin, Dumbledore.”

“I think this one might be for you y/n,” Fred laughed.

“Okay,” The girl thought for a second, “right, I would fuck Snape, Marry Lupin… I can’t kill dumbledore though. I’d be evil!”

“You’d FUCK SNAPE?” They cried out in unison, disgusted by her final decision.

“Yeah, I think he’d be a good fuck.” They nearly screamed at what she said. “What…” she laughed, “all that rage has to go somewhere,”

“Stop stop!” George begged, unable to listen any longer. But the girl liked how it bothered him.

“Anyway, I like a deep voice.” She, not really, joked.

Fred started up the hysterics, suddenly unable to stop picturing how Snape would look naked. Something he was not proud of.

“Oh don’t I know it,” George had said.

She hadn’t registered what he’d said, too busy laughing with them both still tipsy from their day in the village. But later on when she sobered up, y/n thought whether George was trying to hint that he did in fact remember everything.

Ron and Harry came down from their dorm room while the older three were still in fits.

“God what happened to you lot,” The twins’ younger brother had called out over the noise, “We can hear you from upstairs.”

“You’ll never guess what y/n said about Snape!” Fred had wheezed out, but was quickly muffled by the other two who decided that both Harry and Ron were too young to know about their game.

“What? I wanna know,” Ron had whined.

“Don’t be so nosy Ron.” George had teased.

“Fred was gonna tell me.” He pointed out, but George kept a tight cover on his twin’s mouth.

“He most definitely will not.”

The two of them left with slumped heads, admitting defeat, and Fred was freed from his temporary prison. He slapped both of his friend’s heads.

“What was that for?” y/n complained.

“I couldn’t breath you idiots.”

They couldn’t help but start laughing again, something which would recur throughout the day until they eventually sobered up before dinner.

-

Y/n came to terms with the twins and their drinking habits, as it was really the only thing to do to pass the time with so little people around. But when Fred and George were around they always had fun.

The girl watched them whizz about the empty quidditch pitch on their brooms, tossing a ball between themselves. She slipped the flask from her coat and took a sly sip of firewhiskey to keep herself warm. Normally she wouldn’t drink at all, not having done so since the dreaded party where she and George had- you know. But she decided she wanted to do whatever she felt like, it was a rarity.

George flew over, hovering in front of her as she hid the whiskey back in pocket.

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” He raised his eyebrows, he’d been trying to convince her to get on since she’d taken a seat on the stands.

“Not a chance, Weasley, neither you nor Fred are sober enough. I’m precious cargo.” She smiled. The boy’s hair was blown away from his face, held back by the amount of times he’d run his hand through it. She watched his brown eyes sparkle in the winter sun, and was reminded of why he had ever caught her attention in the first place.

“You wanna talk about sobriety eh? Empty your pockets then y/n.” Her stomach filled with butterflies at the sound of his voice speaking her name, but she did as he asked.

“I’ll let you have some if you stop trying to get me on that deathtrap.” The girl sighed and he nodded, taking the flask when she offered it out.

“Nice doing business with you,” He winked and flew off.

-

The next week went by quickly, and y/n had pretty much forgotten about her worries with George. And now, sooner than any of them had realised, it was Christmas eve. Both twins had burst into the girl’s dorm to drag her out of bed, throwing her around the room until she threatened to vomit on both of them.

“Hurry and get dressed or we’ll miss breakfast.” They called, leaving her dizzy in the middle of the room.

Fred discussed their plans for the day while y/n drank endless cups of coffee, not having the stomach for any food. Not to mention, George had been staring at her for the past 10 minutes, making her too nervous to move much. She much preferred it when she had something stronger to drink.

“I heard from Harry that Ron fancies Hermione,” Fred spoke up, no longer interested in our day's activities. That was very him, he would make a decision then immediately change his mind.

“Well that’s obvious,” George scoffed, having yet another bowl of cereal. She wondered how he could burn off all that he ate. “He’s looks at her with stupid puppy eyes,”

“You have stupid puppy eyes,” The girl joked, earning a look from the twin.

“Oh really?” He laughed. “You practically pout whenever you want something from us?”

“At least it works for me,” I winked, making George choke a bit.

Fred laughed, rarely seeing his brother flustered. They’d discussed crushes before in the past, but y/n had never come up before. He watched the two of them tease one another over the table and thought that they suited each other in reality. Plus, he had never seen George pay as much attention to a girl as he had y/n, even ones that he’d admitted to liking.

-

That evening had proved Fred’s theory right as they once again sat in front of the fire, the three of them sharing a bottle of y/n’s muggle alcohol. It burnt like hell and tasted like shit, but they had never gotten drunk quicker so decided it was the logical choice.

George had made sure that y/n was warm enough, without expressing too much concern for her that she would notice. Fred had to hide his smug smile as he watched his brother start to flirt shamelessly with their newest friend.

“What do you mean Hogwarts is scary,” He had laughed, “We’re the only things to be feared.” Fred had added.

“And now you’re one of us!”

“As much as that is a very sweet sentiment,” The girl stroked their heads jokingly, like dogs. “But it’s when it’s quiet, like now. My dorm’s just me, and I had the silence. It feels like someone’s always watching.”

“Aww little y/n’s scared.” George had teased, reaching down to tickle the smaller girl. She kicked and wriggled but he was bigger and stronger and could hold her down.

Those hands, holding her arms in place. It almost threw her straight back into the memory of them in secret passageway, him gripping her as he kissed her neck. If it hadn’t been for the tickling, the boys probably would have noticed her shiver at the reminder. But it was lost in their laughter.

It wasn’t long before Fred decided he would give his, slightly older, brother a chance to talk to y/n alone. So he overemphasised his drunken state and wobbled up to bed, leaving the pair by the fire.

-

They sat in silence for a while, George letting the girl curl into his side as they passed the bottle between them. She watched his hands play with the sofa’s arm nervously and giggled slightly.

“What?” He asked, feeling the need to whisper amongst the silence.

“Nothing,” She dismissed.

“I’ve had fun this holiday,” y/n admitted.

“We have too,” George told her, smiling down sweetly. His top lip curled up ever so slightly, making her blush again like she had done the first time he’d noticed her. “It’s been better than being at home really.” He laughed.

“My family are pretty boring,”

“Oh I can tell,” y/n glared up at him. “I’m kidding darling don’t worry.” Her stomach did multiple flips, not only at the nickname, but at the way he took the arm that was around her shoulder and stroked her cheek. In fact, he didn’t stop. It just became normal after a few seconds, as if he’d always shown her this kind of affection.

“Why didn’t you go home this year?” He asked y/n.

“My parents are muggles, as you know,” she raised the bottle with a gentle laugh “they don’t quite get magic.”

“Oh right,” he was truly invested in her as she spoke, taking in every word with genuine interest.

“They were worried I would let slip to the rest of the family when they came to stay, and well, they haven’t really told anyone else about me.” y/n felt ashamed to be telling George about her family in such a negative way.

“That’s a shame,”

“I don’t mind, they’re just careful people.”

“Still, they should be proud. Not everyone can be a witch,” He laughed.

“I’ve had more fun here anyways, so I won’t complain.” She leant her head on him for a few minutes, watching the flame from the fire disappear over time.

“Can I ask you something?” George suddenly said, making her stiffen up. She just nodded.

“Do you remember, before the summer break, there was a party here?” It was the moment she had been dreading ever since the night itself.

“Uh, yes I do actually.” she gave in, seeing no point in lying to him.

“And you can remember us going off to-”

“Yes George,” she cut him off, embarrassed that she had never mentioned it to him.

“I never told anyone about it,” He told her, making the girl relax ever so slightly. “I didn’t want to just in case you were embarrassed.”

“Thanks, I wasn’t embarrassed as such. Just more scared, that you’d think it was a mistake.” Admittedly she had felt the same, but only because she presumed he would’ve never gone for her had he been sober.

“Why would you think that?” He asked.

“Come on George, we’re different.” The boy had always appreciated how she said his name, and even now it made him giddy with happiness. “You’re friends with every Gryffindor, and they all adore you. I would much rather have my head in a book all day every day.”

“Unless me and Fred are involved.” He wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah well that’s different,”

“Different how?”

“You two are fun,” she admitted.

“And everyone else isn’t?” He smirked.

“You know what I mean, it’s just different.”

“Because of me and Fred? Or… just me?”

She watched his face as he studied hers, taking a deep breath as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re only saying all this because you’re drunk,” y/n scoffed, getting up to leave but he took her hand and kept her sat down.

“Maybe, but that doesn't mean I haven’t been thinking about it.”

His eyes were deep and made the girl’s heart tense as he spoke genuinely. “I thought you hated me after that party, so I just never bothered you. Until Fred decided to befriend you, and then I got to know you and realised why I introduced myself that night.”

“Because you wanted to fuck me?” She watched his face get closer but remained unfazed, refusing to move away from him.

“Of course, but also because you’re beautiful and quiet. Not to mention I’d had a thing for you ever since first year, but you were always in the library and I never got that chance to know you well enough.” He explained softly, their faces now dangerously close.

George glanced down at her lips and y/n couldn’t help but blush.

“I should go to bed,” She whispered, not moving closer or further away.

“Yes you should.” He pulled back with a smirk, seeing her finally let out a much needed breath of air. “Don’t get too creeped out tonight,” He teased as she stood up and walked round the back of the sofa leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

“Come keep me company then you fool,”

With that y/n left, her footsteps going up to her dorm and into the room. George waited exactly a minute after the door shut, counting the seconds one by one. It felt like a lifetime until he reached 60, but then he stood up and smiled to himself. He made his way up the tower, one step at a time to try and make her wait a tiny bit longer. Ignoring the fact that he had been wanting to have his way with y/n ever since that night all those months ago. Having her around had been a joy, but it made his desire grow every time she smiled at him with those lips he couldn’t forget the feeling of.

The lips he noticed first when he opened up the door, not bothering to knock. She was sitting on her bed, just a nightdress on, waiting for him.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He had groaned, promptly closing the door behind him and taking off his shirt.

Y/n struggled not to drag him down as he stood over her body, his abs completely mesmerising her. She knew quidditch was good for something.

“You gonna stand there all night?” She teased.

“No, I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve been wanting to all month.” This time she couldn’t help but gasp at how his words made her feel, her thighs clenching together as a reflex.

George pushed them apart as he climbed on top of her, pressing a leg between her own two. Making the girl moan out at his mercy.

“You’re desperate aren’t you?” She nodded, giving him those perfect eyes he’d been teasing her about only that morning. He dragged his fingers over her face, lifting her chin up so he could run them down her neck. This simple action antagonised the girl, who struggled not to beg for him with each finger slowly gripping her tighter.

Soon he was squeezing, making her moan out effortlessly.

“Hmmm, I love those noises baby.” She could barely hold herself back from pushing herself against his thigh, that remained propped between her legs. It felt like heaven to be touched by him again, and she kept her head held back in ecstasy.

“Please George,” she whispered to him, although there was no real need for them to stay quiet. He slowly moved his mouth to her ear, kissing below it and making her jolt with pleasure.

“What is it darling?”

“Please touch me,”

He took the hand from her neck and pushed her down flat onto the mattress.

“Strip” he demanded, watching her closely discard her nightdress and throw it to the ground. George let her eye him up as he took off his trousers, finally revealing the extent of his bulge as it pressed tight against his boxers.

Y/n could feel it against her pussy as he moved back on top of her, her neck being sucked hard by the boy. He loved the way she reacted to every touch, every finger that ghosted her body, and every kiss placed upon her. It all garnered a gentle moan. George wanted to hear it more and more, he felt entranced by her noises and internally begged for it to never stop.

He pushed himself against her pussy, rubbing slowly with no rhythm to catch her off guard, which god it did. Y/n was all his in that moment, letting herself be whatever George needed as he teased her to the edge. Her breath held as the boy took two fingers and ran them from her neck, freeing her from that euphoric feeling just to replace it with yet another as he slipped them between her folds. Y/n threw her head back, unable to control herself as he played around with her, slipping one finger in and out.

His other hand propped his body up, his biceps big and tensed near her head. She reached up and gripped his arm, moaning out as he pushed in yet another finger inside her, knuckle deep.

“You’re perfect darling,” He told her, “I would have given anything to hear these noises weeks ago.” His voice was deeper than usual, almost a growl as he removed himself from her completely. She whined slightly, making him smirk with how powerless she was.

George reached down to pull out his cock, causing the girl to yet again almost choke. She was amazed at how thick it was. She could feel it perfectly in her memory, but it had been a while and she’d never really gotten a chance to see it in all its glory.

But now there it was, thick and big and waiting to be thrusted inside her. She locked eyes with the boy towering over her body as he teased her with his tip.

“Please George,” She begged, “Please.” Her grip was back on his arm, tightening as he pushed inside. He was drunk on power as she begged for him, begged for him to fuck her even better than he had done months ago.

“Relax baby,” He whispered, pushing it all the way in. The sound that y/n made was nothing short of a scream, finally feeling him all the way in. Her pussy was dripping wet, and gripping onto George’s cock like it was going to be taken away.

The boy pounded into her like he’d been wanting to, ruthlessly and all the while he kept a hand tight around her neck. He thought about how good she made him feel, how small she was compared to him. He loved being able to throw her around and use her as he pleased. But most of all, he loved that she enjoyed it too.

“G-george, George I’m gonna-” Her pussy tightened, making George falter slightly but he didn’t dare stop when she was this tight. Instead he thrusted faster, an animalistic pace, making her scream so much louder than he’d ever heard. Then he felt himself get closer, just from the way her body reacted and he chased that high within her.

“Cum inside me, please.” She begged breathlessly, struggling to keep her eyes open. But when George finally let loose in her pussy, she couldn’t help but widen her eyes in the pleasure of it.

The boy fell to her side, his head resting on the pillow beside her as he caught his breath back slowly. She watched him brush his hair from his face and sigh happily.

“What are you looking at?” George asked, wrapping an arm around her naked body and rubbing his hand against her side.

“I just think you look very cute,” She giggled, high from the feeling of him.

“I fucked you like that, and you call me cute?” He huffed, half joking.

“I can do what I like now, you like me.” She teased him.

“Come on, I’m gonna get enough teasing from Fred when we tell him. I don’t need it from you too.” He groaned.

-

The next morning, Christmas day, the pair were rudely awoken from their pleasant sleep by Fred bursting into the room.

“I knew it! I could’ve bet good money on you two!” He shouted, shaking his brother as if he hadn’t already heard him come in.

Y/n groaned and rolled under the covers.

“Come on lazy get up,” Fred pulled George out of bed and onto the floor, groaning at his naked brother.

“Good thing you got George before me,” Y/n called out from beneath the covers.

“Get dressed you idiots, there’s presents downstairs let's go!” Fred ran off again, leaving his brother to pull on some clothes. He leant down to pull the covers from y/n’s face.

She felt him place a kiss on her cheek and she giggled at the cold air.

“You getting up?” He asked, passing her a jumper to pull on. She nodded silently, rubbing her head. “Hungover?”

“A little,” She blushed at his messy hair.

“I’ll carry you then,”

The girl put on some pajama shorts and held her arms out for George to lift her off the ground. He groaned happily and took her down to the common room to find Harry and Ron already opening gifts sent from Mrs Weasley. Ginny came racing down not long after, begging Fred to give over her presents.

“These ones are for you y/n,” Harry said when she was plonked on the sofa, warmed by the fire’s heat.

“Thanks Harry,” She looked down at the tag on the packages.

Hope you’ve had a good holiday darling, see you in the summer!

Y/n had spent the best holiday anyone could ask for with her two best friends, and couldn’t imagine having to leave them when the summer came around. She frowned, but the boy with his arm still on her waist saw the note before she could unwrap anything.

“You’ll have to come home with us next summer, not a chance am I letting your parents steal you away.” He joked, but his offer was sincere. She never had to worry about George hiding her away like her parents had done.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[akirameta84]

Saiki K. - A list of Never-Adapted Chapters

As stated, a list and brief kinda long summery of the chapters never adapted into the anime. Only a few have good reasons aside from time though. (Also a list of reasons for anime only viewers to give the manga a read *cough*)

Warning: I spoil every single one of these chapters. So if you’re lazy and only want to read the non adapted chapters, go ahead and just read the chapter number/name, and avoid the summery. You will be missing a HUGE amount of unadapted scenes if you don’t read the whole manga though, which are present in nearly every chapter, adapted or not. They were likely cut for time like a lot of the chapters, but many add depth and important character development, and actually explain certain dynamics between characters present that were glossed over in the anime.

Reblogs appreciated...this took me so long qwq

Under the cut for sheer length

Chapter 0.1 “Telepathy”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s telepathic abilities, and the plot revolves around him stopping his class from believing Nendo stole everybody's wallets.

Chapter 0.2 “Telekinesis”:  A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s telekinetic abilities, and the plot revolves around Nendo “saving” him from being bullied, and him realizing that Nendo actually isn’t a delinquent, and is a good friend. Interestingly, Saiki is able to hear Nendo’s thoughts during this chapter, in which he is internally telling Saiki to run away while he takes the attack from the bullies.

Chapter 0.4 “Precognition”:  A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s precognitive abilities (are you noticing a theme among the volume zero chapters?), and the plot revolves around him receiving a precognition about Nendo’s supposed funeral. Saiki follows Nendo around all day as they hang out in preparation of his date, and it’s (obviously) revealed the girl did it as a dare. Saiki uses his teleportation to apport a bowling ball Nendo had bought with the girl’s phone, and sends a message telling Nendo that she was simply busy and had to miss the date. The two go to Nendo’s house and it’s revealed the memorial was for Nendo’s already deceased dad, not him.

Chapter 0.5 “Teleportation”: A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s ability to teleport/apport, and the plot revolves around Chouno attempting a magic show with a new assistant, after firing Ike-san (still homeless at the time) for making mistakes. His assistant, however, is purposely sabotaging him. Part way through, Ike-san shows up and thinks about how he should’ve been a better assistant, and his makeover is revealed. Near the end of the show a trick is attempted to where Chouno’s assistant is meant to teleport out of a box, but of course she does nothing. It is noticed that her and Ike-san have swapped places, due to Saiki apporting the two of them, and Chouno and Ike-san reunite.

Chapter 0.6 “Clairvoyance”:  A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s clairvoyant abilities, and the plot revolves around Kaido accidently spotting Saiki teleporting from a distance, and trying to find out who it was. Unfortunately, the drawing he is using to ask around for the “Trickster” looks nothing like Saiki. At the end of the chapter, Saiki appears before Kaido with the face of his crude drawing, and teleports out, to appease him. (Interesting tidbit about this chapter is that the mysterious stranger from the birthday arc appears in the class while Saiki uses his clairvoyance to watch Kaido. He also appears in the background of chapter 41 (the telepathy silencer movie chapter), but not in the anime equivalent.) 

Chapter 0.7 “Astral Projection”:  A chapter mainly detailing info about Saiki’s ability to astral project, and the plot revolves around Saiki using telekinesis to deflect a stray baseball from hitting him, but it instead hits Nendo, subsequently knocking him out right before he was due to play in a baseball game. Thus, Saiki uses astral projection to take over Nendo’s body and play in the baseball game for him.

Chapter 8 “ Fighting for a RePSIval!”: Saiki and Nendo end up stopping a failing musician from jumping off a roof due to his enormous debt. Nendo gets the idea to help the man gain money by selling the CDS of his music he had ordered in bulk, which were the result of the debt, due to them not selling. He performs live in the park, and Saiki accidently uses his telepathy to project the song to everyone in the are, causing them to believe it became stuck in their heads due to how good it was. 

Chapter 00 “Special One-Shot: The DiPSIster of Psychic Saiki Kusuo”: This chapter falls in-between 8 and 9. It is a collection of oneshots set in a slightly different universe (likely a pilot or a very early storyline) in which it details information over several of Saiki’s powers, much like Volume 0.

Chapter 32 “ExPSIbition! Jump Festa”: Saiki goes out to Jump Festa to purchase merchandise due to an errand from his mom. There he meets Kaido, and the whole chapter’s gag is subtle advertisement for Jump Festa. The pair run into a crying child, who had lost his mom. He smartly refuses to go with Kaido to a help desk due to stranger danger, but Kaido comes back in his cosplay and since the kid vaguely recognizes him after he “proves” he really is that character (with Saiki’s help), the kid is returned to his mom.

Chapter 73 “PubliPSIzing the Popularity Contest Results!“: Saiki ends up in an alternate universe to where people’s popularity is shifted. (The chapter is based on the popularity poll that was held, hence that being the joke). Saiki is the most popular in this world, and he is bombarded with people until he hides away in the bathroom and transforms into Kuriko. This allows the original world’s Saiki to return, and he briefly explains why the world is this way, before sending Saiki, as Kuriko, back.

Chapter 88 “Press Play! A "Making Of" PSItory”: Saiki finishes watching a movie, and he remarks about how he loved it due to the quality of the acting and would like to visit the place it was filmed. Shortly after, he teleports to the location while returning the movie. He then decides to use his psychometry to see how the movie was filmed, and slowly it is revealed that the actors themselves were quite bad, especially the child star who Saiki believed to be a very good actor. The reason the movie was so good is revealed to be because the scenes in the movie were filmed as a supposed to be “behind the scenes”, and those were put in place instead of the actual filmed scenes.

Chapter 95 “The PSInnacle of the Golden Age of Heroes! A Fun Party Game”: Kaidou, Nendo, and Kuboyasu visit Saiki’s house the same day the game “J-Stars Victory Vs” was supposed to be arriving for him. A package arrives at the door, but instead of J-Stars, it is “C-Heroes Vale Tudo Battle”, a ripoff game by Saiki’s dad’s manga company. Kaido, Nendo, and Kuboyasu are all enamored by the game and reveal that they love Cognac, the magazine the game is for, and they all play the game. At the end of the chapter, the actual wanted game arrives, and the trio are just as excited and want to play that instead.

Chapter 102 “The Achromatic InviPSIble Boy”: (My personal favorite chapter) Saiki turns himself invisible to avoid running into his friends on the way to school, and winds up inside an empty storage room in order to wait for his invisibility to wear off. Unfortunately, a group of girls decided to use this room to change due to the peeping tom that’s been rumored around the campus. He hides by gripping onto the ceiling and waiting for them to leave, but when his invisibility is about to wear off the girls have still not left. After some time spent dodging and hiding, the door is opened by Saiki, revealing the actual peeping tom. The girls chase after him and Saiki uses the opportunity to escape.

Chapter 118 “The DiPSIster of the Rental Video Store”: Saiki, due to being bored, decides to go to a rental movie store to rent a movie to watch. Unfortunately, the current cashier is one that Saiki doesn’t favor very much, because she is high on his list for potential spoilers, but he remarks that at least the manager, a man who has seen nearly every movie, isn’t there. But (lmao), the manager switches positions with the cashier shortly after. Saiki then runs into Takahashi, who is purchasing pornography. In exchange for not telling the school about this, Saiki asks Takahashi to check out his movies for him. Takahashi gets caught like the dumbass he is and the plan is ruined.

Chapter 133 “An ExPSIlent Wife and Mother!? Mom's Class Reunion”: Saiki starts the chapter off by explaining how his mother is scatterbrained, and showing examples of it. Kurumi than remarks that she is going to her class reunion, which is being held in the city near her this year instead of way out in the country, meaning she can attend. When she arrives she starts getting reintroduced to her classmates who she hasn’t seen in 20 years, and talking about how different they are. Only one of the attendees, however, is actually from her class, and he reveals that the whole event is a plan to get closer to Kurumi, in order to use her for her eldest son’s wealth. Saiki, who had come to watch after having a bad feeling about the event, follows him into the bathroom and threatens him to stay away from his mom. Before he can finish, Kurumi accidently stumbles into the men’s bathroom, and her former classmate claims that her youngest son had attacked him unprovoked. Kurumi attacks the man, claiming her son would never do such a thing.

Chapter 134 “Kaidou and Kuboyasu's PSIpicions”: (The BEST Chapter) Kaidou and Kuboyasu are talking near their lockers about how neither of them got any chocolate for valentines day, and the conversation strays off to talking about Hairo. The two remark that they never see him talking to or dating girls, despite his popularity, and joke that he must be gay. The two are later found following Hairo, and bring up incidents that add to their growing suspicion. They soon find Hairo talking to Nendo, and begging the latter to join his club, stating that it has to be him. The conversation is normal, but Kaidou and Kuboyasu keep mistaking parts of it as being dirty. They watch Nendo and Hairo have a sumo match, and confront him after it, stating that it’s fine if he his gay, they were just curious. Hairo laughs it off and says he isn’t, but after another risque seeming scene (including an omake where Hairo and Nendo remark about keeping their relationship secret and how Hairo is willing to come out for him 🤔 ) the duo agree to stop thinking about it.

Chapter 165 “Train DiPSIster”: Saiki decides to take the train to a coffee shop 30 minutes away from his house instead of teleporting, claiming coffee jelly tastes much more satisfying if there is effort put into travelling there...though he does plan to teleport home. He explains how annoying train rides are for him, due to his telepathy, and how if someone playing music loudly is annoying for you, how much worse it is to listen everyone complain about said music. Over the course of the trip, Saiki begins to get anxious due to the crowds and his telepathy, and is relieved when several people get off. Unfortunately, he receives a precognition about the train stopping, and ends up saving a man from jumping in front of the train. Saiki winds up teleporting to the coffee shop. 

Chapters 176 & 177 “PSIolving the Biggest Riddle!”: Saiki shrinks himself to retrieve his mother’s wedding band that had fallen down a drain, and when he jumps down, he remarks that the sink had become essentially 80 meters tall due to his height. He lays down in his bed afterwards, deciding to take a nap while he returns to normal size. When he wakes up however, he is much taller than normal. Due to the fact his body keeps growing, to avoid destroying the house anymore, Saiki teleports away to an island to hide, but he realizes that he teleported to an island closer to land due to his height throwing off his teleport. He hides under the water to avoid being caught, but ends up having to teleport away to avoid being seen. He accidently ends up on land, and nearby is a tribe of people, who are speaking a strange language. Before they approach him, Saiki ducks into his shirt, remarking that he feels embarrassed and is at a loss. He ends up floating and crashes to the ground once he reaches a certain height. It eventually clicks and he returns home, normal size. He had realized that his growing and shrinking powers were the same, but growing happened slowly, and shrinking happened quickly, hence why he would return to normal size slowly. The cause of this issue? The off comment he made about the sink “Becoming 80 meters tall.”

Chapter 201 “A Miraculous InvenPSIon”: Saiki notices his dad using a tablet and asks him what it his, to which Kunihara explains. Once he remembers he has work, Kunihara runs off, but not before offering his old tablet to Saiki, saying he can use it to read books and buy things. A little while later, Saiki is amazed by the tablet. He remarks about the shopping sites he an use to buy not only physical copies of books on, but digital ones as well. He keeps thinking about how amazing the online shopping sites and recommendations are, meanwhile he performs basically the same exact thing to his mom, when she requests he go out and buy groceries, as he instantly apports them for her, and also added foil because he had a precognition about her running out. While searching for appliances, he stumbles on the coffee jelly maker he owns, and finds out it has shitty reviews, but everyone recommends a newer model. He looks for the cheapest price of it, and finds an ad claiming to sell it for 100 yen. However, he falls for the trick of a ridiculous shipping fee, and his father laughs and remarks how just like his mother, he got scammed. Angry, Saiki teleports to the factory and threatens them into giving him the model for 100 yen, claiming that he doesn’t have to pay the shipping fee if he picks it up himself.

Chapter 229 “No Need for Bath Salts! Taking a Dip in the PSIcret Hot Spring”: Saiki decides to take a visit to a secluded hot springs in the mountains to relax himself, but unfortunately two strangers decided to hike there at the very same time. He cannot just teleport or walk away, since he didn’t bring his clothes with him, having teleported there to begin with. To make them leave, he decides to heat the hot spring up, so that the two men get overheated and decic to leave. One of the men, however, decides to try and stay in the water that is slowly gaining heat, in order to outlast Saiki. The man eventually gets out and faints, and to avoid having to help them, Saiki feigns having fainted from the heat as well, causing the two men to leave on their own.

Chapter 243 ″Welcome to PSIberspace”: Saiki’s dad has a new VR headset, and while he has to leave for work he offers it to Saiki to play with. Saiki is enamored by the horror game his dad was playing, being that it’s able to surprise him. The jump scares, however, cause him to accidently use his telekinesis, which is actually blowing stuff up at his dad’s workplace, instead of his house. 

Chapter 245 “Trending on a Streaming PSIte”: Kaidou, Nendo, Kuboyasu, and Saiki are all hanging out, and Kaidou mentions he has a camera and wants to become a youtuber (Yotubo-er is what it’s called). At a café, the group suggests video ideas, such as Teruhashi. In order to prevent this plan, however, Saiki uses telekinesis to stab french fries into their eyes when Teruhashi ends up walking by the café. On the walk home, however, Saiki receives a premonition  about all the video ideas they suggested becoming popular, including one of him using his abilities on the french fries. He obtains the camera from Kaidou and deletes the footage, which had been recording due to the camera being on the entire time.

Chapter 255 “APSIsting In Mediating A Long-Term Marriage!”: Saiki and his parents go to visit his grandparent’s, only to learn the pair is fighting, and his grandmother would like a divorce. The start of the entire fight is revealed to be because Kumagoro left the toilet seat up, and Kumi explains how she’s had to put the seat down for 40 years. The reason she was so adamant to divorce as well was because Kuusuke had pushed her to it. Kumi gets ready to leave the house, especially after Kumagoro purposely leaves the lid up one last time. Saiki stops her and tells her to put down the lid one more time, only for the words ‘I’m Sorry’ to be written on it. The fight is resolved.

Chapter 264 “Please Go Watch the Live ActPSIon Movie!”: A manga Saiki reads is getting a live action movie, and he is particularly upset about it. His dad happens to be the editor for the manga, and takes him to the filming set to change his mind. (By the way, this is the best chapter for showcasing Kunihara’s shittiness as a father. He physically attacks his son several times. Missing, of course, but he still actively attacks him. Kunihara is a horrible person, let alone father.) Saiki views the set and is perturbed by the actor choices, specifically Makoto as the lead character. He is even more upset to learn that the movie features an original character (like a badly written wattpad fanfiction), and that the end of the movie even features the death of the main character, and Kunihara explains that it differs from the manga greatly. He explains to his son that the changes make the movie better, and Saiki ends up agreeing after he winds up viewing the actual live-action movie.

[smells-like-mettaton]

thick fog and papyrus? srsly tho what is up with his battle room lmao

Worth Fighting For

Rating: G Word Count: 1535 Read on AO3: here

---

“Are you sure you want to do this, brother?” Papyrus asked, even though he knew what the answer would be. Sans was the most stubborn monster Papyrus knew.

Sans would probably say the same about him. Their collective stubbornness led to month-long face offs over a discarded sock. Or to Papyrus cooking spaghetti three times a day, waiting for Sans to crack and tell him what was wrong with it.

Or to them standing at the edge of town, shrouded in thick fog.

“I’m sure.” Sans’s voice felt almost muffled by the mist.

That was part of the point. Anyone could train when they could hear and see their opponent. It would take a skilled fighter to battle under these conditions.

And Sans wanted to be skilled. Papyrus could hardly deny him that, after all the time he’d begged to train under Undyne.

“Right.” Papyrus gave a sharp nod, though Sans probably couldn’t see it. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you, br—”

A bone collided with his exposed spine. He yelped, though it was more from surprise than pain.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Through a gap in the fog, Papyrus caught his brother winking.

“Sans! That move is unsportsmanlike!” Papyrus rubbed his vertebrae. Of course, Sans could hardly injure him. Each of his attacks only shaved off one point of damage.

“Good thing fighting’s not a sport, huh?”

“Fighting is more than a sport! It is a way to express the hopes and dreams of your soul!!”

Sans sighed, disturbing the fog enough for Papyrus to see him again.

“Look, bro. I just want to be able to keep myself from getting dusted. I’ll save the dreams for when I’m sleeping.”

Papyrus’s brow pinched. Listening to Sans talk, you would think he never wanted to fight. But he did. Papyrus could see it in the darkness of his eyesockets, in the way his jaw set whenever something upset him.

Something had made Sans angry. Maybe even… frightened. None of Papyrus’s attempts to draw the truth from him succeeded, however.

Papyrus wanted to help Sans channel that anger into something more productive. Fighting could be productive! It could bring monsters together in ways nothing else could! But… not the way Sans went about it.

Maybe Papyrus just needed to show him.

A row of bones—carefully calibrated not to do damage—sprouted from the ground towards Sans. Papyrus couldn’t see him dodge, but he didn’t hear the telltale crack of bone on bone.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t go easy on me.”

A beam of light shot through the fog, and Papyrus sidestepped, his boots crunching in the thick snow. Several more beams followed it, but the pattern was easy to predict. The few times when Papyrus failed to dodge, the lasers barely tickled.

A muttered curse came from his left. Papyrus turned towards it, but didn’t ready another attack.

“Starting with your strongest attack is—”

“Bad sportsmanship?” Sans snapped.

“No. It’s just bad strategy.” Papyrus approached the sound of his voice. He bumped into a few of Sans’s blasters on the way and gave each of them a quick pet. “It’s safer to let your opponent underestimate you. Once you have them lulled into a false sense of security, you can secure your victory!”

“I don’t have time for that kind of strategy!” Sans sounded even angrier than Papyrus had expected. Maybe Papyrus was the one doing the underestimating. “I’m not like you! I don’t have hundreds of HP to spare! I’ve got one shot, and if I can’t—if I can’t win, then I’m…”

Papyrus’s eyesockets widened at Sans’s muffled sob.

“Oh, Sans.” He knelt down by his brother, feeling him rather than seeing him. He wrapped him in the tightest hug he could. Sans slumped in his arms, like all the fight had gone out of him.

“No one is going to hurt you. I promise,” Papyrus murmured. “I’ll protect you, brother.”

Sans tensed, and the moment shattered.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Sans pushed him back. His eyesockets had gone pitch black, two empty holes in the sea of white. “I’m—I was always supposed to take care of you, and I can’t—if I can’t stop the…”

Papyrus didn’t know what he was talking about, but expecting answers from Sans was like expecting Undyne to go a month without burning down her house. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, ignoring the hurt that Sans’s shove had caused. Hurt that went deeper than any bone attack or laser.

Perhaps he deserved it. Even if he didn’t know everything, he knew he had messed up.

“You’re right,” Papyrus admitted, making Sans’s head tilt in confusion. “I want you to be strong and great, too! In fact, you're already very strong and great! But we’re safe here, brother. Undyne and the Royal Guard will protect us when a human comes.”

He didn’t bother saying that he would be joining the Royal Guard. It was a matter of when at this point, surely. But the thought wouldn’t comfort Sans at the moment.

“‘M not worried about humans,” he muttered.

“Then… what are you worried about?”

Silence. Like the fog had stolen away even the slight sound of Sans’s rattling bones.

“...Doesn’t matter.” Sans’s eyesockets closed. “Forget it.”

For once, Papyrus decided to face his brother head-on. The way Undyne would.

“I cannot just forget something that is bothering you, brother.”

“Heh. We already have, though. Over and over and over again…”

“Then this time, we should help each other remember!” Papyrus reached out and felt for Sans’s shoulder, then gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Nah. Too much effort.”

Papyrus felt Sans shrug. Annoyance bubbled up in him, but he forced himself to let it go. He should’ve known better than to expect Sans to face his problems head-on. He wasn’t Undyne.

Papyrus blinked. “You’re not Undyne.”

Sans’s sockets cracked open in a confused squint. “Uh, yeah? Did I hit you too hard earlier?”

“No!” He shook his head quickly. “I mean! You don’t have the stats that Undyne and I do!”

“You don’t gotta rub it in.”

“Ugh, brother!” Papyrus sprung to his feet, his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to say, we need to train you differently! I’ve been doing this all wrong!”

“Nah, I’ve just been making it hard on you.” Sans sounded guilty. “Sorry. I’m not a real good student.”

“False! I simply need to recalibrate your curriculum! Nyeh heh heh!!”

A short time later, they again faced off in the dense fog. But this time, Papyrus encouraged Sans to use every underhanded trick in his arsenal.

“Don’t forget your shortcuts!” Papyrus called into the white void as he hurled another wave of bones.

“No good,” Sans huffed, presumably while dodging. “Can’t use ‘em... while anyone’s looking. Magic’s weird... like that.”

“Well, I cannot look with all this fog in the way! And whoever has a bone to pick with you will surely blink at one point or another!”

“...Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

And he did. Lasers blasted at Papyrus again. Blue attacks mixed with regular attacks mixed blue soul magic mixed with strange platforms that Papyrus discovered he could jump on without being harmed.

Until the platforms slid out from under him, dropping him into a spike-trap of bone attacks.

“Clever!” Papyrus called out, escaping with a blue magic-assisted leap. With that many attacks at once, his HP had actually taken a dent. “I bet you could create a maze with those! Any enemy would surely be confounded, then blasted to their senses!”

“Huh, that’s not a bad idea…”

Eventually Papyrus announced the end of the training session. He may have an abundance of HP, but Sans had kept him on his toes during the entire sparring match. There had been no time to sneak a bite of his cinnamon bun.

“So how’d I do? Think I’ll be joining you in the Guard any time soon?” Sans winked as they strode out of the fog.

“You want to join the Guard too?” Papyrus beamed until Sans looked away awkwardly.

“Nah, that was just a dumb joke. I’ve got enough to look out for with bein’ a sentry.”

Papyrus’s eyes narrowed. That was a pun, but at least it was of better quality than usual.

“Very well! It’s important to know your limits! If only so you can more effectively push them! Nyeh heh heh!” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “And you certainly did so today! I’m very proud of you, brother.”

Sans’s head snapped up, his eyelights glowing brighter than Papyrus had seen in ages. He quickly schooled his expression into something less expressive, though.

“Geez, bro, all this sweet talk’s gonna go to my head.” He rapped on the side of his skull.

“Good! You need something to fill up all that empty space!”

Sans laughed out loud at that. “Thanks.”

Papyrus knew he wasn’t being thanked for the joke. Still, he played along.

“Of course! That’s what brothers are for!”

As long as Papyrus was around, Sans would never have to fight. But if Sans could feel more confident in himself…

That was something worth fighting for.

[simping-hours-are-24-7]

A Fall From Grace Promises Disaster

A long dream is had and the MC wakes alone

(Mammon x GN!MC, Yandere!Diavolo x MC (forced))

TW: Forced relationships, yandere Diavolo, character death (minor), blood

They dream of blue skies and blue buildings. Luke and Simeon greet them, of sweets and tea shared. But this dream is missing someone, they cannot help but think of sharing this moment with their first. The days blur in strange dreams of blue, blue, blue. Blue and gold eyes, soft whispered promises and kisses linger and burn like hellfire under holy skin. There’s a dream of Mammon, of fire, of falling.

But they don’t wake when they feel the landing. Mammon is above them, saying something but they can’t hear him. Everything swirls in golds, blacks, and of him. It feels like they’re dying again, a death more painful than their first at the hands of Belphie. As for their second death, it was a painless thing, making this one felt more keenly. They remember the falter of their breath, the eyes of sadness, but understanding of friends aged as them. The reaper comes for us all, is whispered. Solomon is there, they think. His pale hair and pale eyes wish them a “see you soon” as they fall asleep for one last time. 

Slowly waking, still hearing their mentor’s farewell, they rise from soft red silk, or at least try to. There’s a fire that burns under their skin, a hot molten thing that scorches as much as it did in their dreams. There’s a strange weight on their head and their injuries make them drop and sink back down into the plush mattress. Instead, they look around. The room is familiar, reminding them of their younger years, but they are alone. It’s stifling,  this loneliness, they’re used to quiet chatters of friends, the background chaos of the House, the hum of magic with Solomon, the music of the Celestial Realm. But here, in this room in the Demon King’s Palace, there is no sound other than their own breaths and song of strange magic under their wrapped skin. A magic that reminds them of Mammon, his brothers. Of demons.

Then, they remember their Fall and the sin they committed to Fall. Judgement. Sentencing. Falling. If they were still alive, then it seems like they kept their promise to Mammon. Suddenly it clicks that they’re a demon now, a creature of sin and blasphemy. With a shaky arm, they reach up to the new weight atop their head, with a distant thought that it felt lighter than the halo gifted to them in the Celestial Realm. 

They jolt in surprise, both at the strange feeling and at the cold horn despite the still burning sensation under their skin. Tracing their new addition, they note in quiet joy the familiar corkscrew shape. But this brings up a bigger question; where is Mammon and why are they alone in Diavolo’s Castle of all places?

As if somehow hearing their thoughts, the door opens to Diavolo and Barbatos. The demon butler looks the same as always, but there is something… off with Diavolo. He looks just as he always did in their memories; tall, scarlet red hair, and piercing golden eyes that are lit with an eager twinkle. But his smile, which was usually filled with mischief and joy, is something darker, more like the smile of a demon who tricked you out of your soul.

“Good morning MC, more like good evening,” he laughs, “did you sleep well?” He’s searching for something, but they’re not sure what it is.

“I… no, not really.” They reply honestly, “it felt like I died a third time…Diavolo, why am I here?”

“Well, I’m not sure why, but you did Fall, so that’s why you're here in the Devildom instead of the Celestial Realm.” He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant. Why am I here in your palace Diavolo? Why am I not at the House of Lamentation?” Their voice is steady, surprising them, but they keep their gaze onto the prince who’s smile twitches downward, but they also notice the butler’s minute frown. Since when could they do that?

The prince sighs, but his smile is back to what it was, but almost brighter and genuine. “Simply put, my dear MC, I’ve decided that you’ll be my consort!” He lets out a hearty laugh, ignoring the look of utter horror on MC’s face. “Truly I’ve been blessed, after all who else can sit beside me on the Throne other than the one who had brought my dream of uniting the Three Realms to fruition as well as being part of all three?” 

He walks toward the bed, blissfully unaware of their reaction, and sits on the edge, facing them. He leans down closer to them, his face a gentle smile, full of love. It disgusts them. “I am looking forward to a brilliant future with you.”

“No.”

“No?” The prince cocks his head to the side, confused as to why MC was rejecting him. He’s offering them a future of luxury and power, what demon would resist a temptation as strong as this?

“I am not going to marry you. I made a promise to Mammon, so I won’t marry you; I love him, and only him.” They glare at the prince, their wings (wings? Since when?) flutter irritated underneath them.

Diavolo holds their stare and turns away first, letting out a sigh at the same time.  He turns back to face them and takes their face into a single hand; fingers gently holding their jaw, but they can hear the hum of magic and threats within it. “MC, I’ll only say this once; Mammon has given me his blessing to marry you. He may have caught you, but I am the one who will give you a position that suits the brilliance of your damned soul.You best forget Mammon and willingly agree to marry me, it’ll end a lot less messy and you much more happier this way.”

MC stared deep into the burning golden gaze of demonic royalty before dropping their stare. “...out.”

“I didn’t hear you my dear. You must speak clearly.” Diavolo lightly chides.

Fury rises as MC lurches forward, injuries forgotten, and bites the hand still on their face. Sharp teeth dig into tanned skin before letting go a second later, green ropes of magic pulling them away from Diavolo. They glare as they watch the prince rub the mark with a small pout on his face, “Get out you liar. I won’t believe a single thing you just said until Mammon tells me himself.”

“MC please,” Diavolo says softly, “be reasonable. I never lied to you before, why would I now?”

“I DON’T CARE!” They reach behind them and throw pillows at him, soft silk and feathers infuriatingly dodged. “GET OUT DIAVOLO! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! GET OUT!”

The prince looks upwards as if ironically hoping for some help from above, still dodging pillows  and whatever MC can reach thrown at him. He lets out a small sigh, “I see. I’ll have Mammon brought here and have him tell you what I say is true. But I hope by then, you’ll be more reasonable and agree. Until then, my dear.”

Both prince and butler leaves, the door closing just in time to stop a vase from reaching its target. MC’s body heaves with every breath, the sudden burst of activity pulling at the burns and cuts, soaking the bandages with inky black blood. Dropping back down with a hiss, their eyes catch their reflection in a mirror they haven't noticed. 

With shaky steps, they stumble out of the bed and towards the mirror. Terrible, they look terrible. Dark circles under their eyes stand out just as much as the black stains on the scarlet robe they wear. What was probably white bandages are also stained black, blood still escaping and dripping down their skin. In the back of their mind, they can hear Asmo's quiet tuts at their appearance. But, they focus their stare on their new demonic appearance; sharper teeth, a pair of leathery bat-like wings sprouting between their shoulder blades, and familiar corkscrew horns adorn their head and when they slowly tilt their head down, they can see the small line of gold circling near the base. Just like Mammon.

At the thought of their lover, the smile that was beginning to grow drops suddenly as their heart twists and their vision goes blurred. Diavolo must be lying. Mammon would never give them away to someone else to wed. He'd kill whoever would try "taking his Treasure away, dammit!"

MC gently slides down onto their knees, hands still on the mirror as their reflection follows. And with a quiet sob, asks the still air, "Mammon, where are you?"

Taglist: @beepboop0987 @sevendeadlymorons @barbatos-after-dark @pumpkins-mainside-blog

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[wheredafandomat]

Lionheart 💎 P10 💎 Consolation

Previous Chapter

Watching y/n look around her room solemnly, Loki felt bad for her. She was an Avenger and a former S.H.I.E.L.D agent so she was used to loss but when it’s someone so close to you, despite whether or not they were a loony manic, he knew it hurt. Y/N didn’t deserve to feel like this. So betrayed.

He gently put his hand on her shoulder as he watched her stare at a picture of the pair. Y/N looked so happy and so did Elijah. How could it have all been fake? A lie? A joke? He wanted nothing more than to comfort her and tell her he was sorry for his actions. He was no better than Elijah when he shouted at her and called her such horrible things. Noticing y/n looked like she was about to cry, Loki suggested they hit the training room and try and work out what it was that y/n had done during the conflict with Elijah.

Once in the training room, Y/N and Loki started doing their stretches. They didn’t speak to each other, they just enjoyed each others company. Loki thought it’d be a good idea to break the silence.

“So, should we try and see if you’ve got any more tricks up your sleeve” he offered.

“I don’t mind” she replied blankly

“Blast me with something”

Lifting her hands, Y/N tried to blast some sort of energy orb at Loki to no avail.

“It’s pointless” y/n replied deflated

“Maybe you just need to be angry in order to activate the powers you did the other night unless they weren’t permanent and were a product of you being without your powers like I said” Loki replied recalling an old tale Odin used to read him when he and Thor were children

“I am angry. I don’t think they were permanent”

“Right. Try and freeze me”

Y/N tried but couldn’t

“Loki” she said worried “I can’t”

“Can’t? Y/N you’ve been freezing things your entire life just freeze me”

“Loki I’m being serious I can’t” she said still trying

“Alright, use a shield to dodge my attacks”

“Wha— OW”

“Y/N it seems you really can’t”

“You didn’t need to attack me to prove it I TOLD YOU! Maybe I’ll test my ability to heal people next when I shove a dagger up you’re a—”

“Language” Steve said walking past the room earning an eye roll from y/n and Loki.

Loki was beginning to worry slightly. He thought that maybe y/n had drained her power during the conflict. He was more worried as he started remembering more of the childhood story, so he thought of a plan.

“Puny” he said under his breath looking at y/n

“What did you say?”

“I said that you’re puny”

“Whoa, Loki relax, maybe I just need time to readjust”

“I used to think you were magnificent but look at you. You’re weak. You’ve lost Elijah and now it seems you have no place in the world. Can’t even conjure up a shield to defend yourself” he spoke

“Ohh I know what you’re doing, let’s rile her up and see if she magically has her powers again. Not gonna work Loki so just quit whilst you’re ahea—”

“You’re idiotic, pathetic, weak. How could you not see that Elijah didn’t care for you. I could. I warned you again and again and again but you- you were too caught up in his charade to see it. You’re so—” he said cutting her off

“Watch your tongue” she warned

“Needy”

With that, y/n started glowing gold as she levitated up and looked down at Loki. He braced himself awaiting her wrath but all she did was let out a heart wrenching screech before collapsing onto her knees in a tearful weep. It had worked but now y/n was uncontrollably crying.

Loki ran to her side to hug her but she pushed him off. Grabbing her again, Loki pulled her to his chest as she painfully sobbed not fighting his embrace.

“How could he Loki? How could you?” She said between sniffles

“I know y/n I’m sorry”

“You’re supposed to be my friend”

“I know. I’m sorry” he said kissing her hair letting her cry all her emotions out. Her loss. Her anger. Her sorrow. Her mourning. Everything.

Once Y/N had stopped crying, Loki offered his room to her at least until she was ready to go back to her room. She accepted. Loki said he’d sleep on the couch or something but she said-

“It’s fine. You might as well sleep here too it’s not like we weren’t sharing a bed whilst I was pretty much unconscious” she said with a slight smile

“Plus I’ve been in worse places than your bed Loki”

Laughing he agreed and left as she got comfortable in search of Thor.

“Brother” Loki said when he reached Thor’s room

“Loki! What brings you here”

“Do you remember the story we used to be read when we were children”

“Ah yes, Valorous, it was a classic”

“I fear that story was more than just a story”

“Loki, what do you mean” Thor asked getting slightly worried

“I think- I think the valorous is y/n”

A/N: Do we like where this fic is heading or should I just quit whilst I’m ahead? Let me knowwww💚💚 Also the gif is so funny for no reason 🤣🤣