#magic reader again because I'm predictable

[writeshite]

"Well, well, look at you," you laughed, "I can't say I've had the pleasure of being caught before, charmed Batman. I'm a bit disappointed to see you're not a demon; I thought we might hit it off."

The Batman doesn't speak at first, then holds you up against the wall, “The Upper East End. Tuesday night.”

“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell,” you shrug and he presses his arm harder against your throat, “Now, now, batboy, I need my vocal cords for later, I’ve got a couple men’s names to scream in the bedroom.” He throws you to the ground, you roll a few meters and laugh, “Oh, I love a man who plays rough.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, grabbing his leg before he can press it on your chest, twisting your body just enough to unbalance him. The Batman stumbles, almost tripping over you as you pull him over yourself. As he’s busy trying to stabilize himself, you get up, shaking your shoulders, “Dimittis,” you mutter and the cuffs fall to the ground, and you blow him a kiss before running off. Batman squints his eyes and pursues, much to your delight.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ Relaxation ✧₊⁺

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x Reader(f)

Arthur's Note: Guilliman has a new serf and she isn't taking his bullshit. The Imperium held on with less for 10k years. Man will stop and take care of himself.

Warnings: General Grimdarkness. Bobby G does get nekkid. Proofread? Never heard of her

+18 Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

"Please!" Guilliman pleaded the faintest hint of a smile daring to pull at his lips, "I will be naked!"

You huff and cross your arms, "Well yes Mister Guilliman, one should be naked when taking a bath, now off with that robe!" you reach out again. Unafraid of the giant you were trying to coax into a bath like a child.

Mister Guilliman. It was an endearing way to speak to him. Only you do it. A mix of respect for his office, yet so casual. It was the closest he had gotten to someone speaking to him like a person. He would take it. The way you treat him was a breath of fresh air. You weren't timid around him, not afraid to scold him like a child when he refused to eat or take any rest. You bossed him around like if you could you could make him do anything...and you were.

Perhaps he was being selfish and enjoying someone looking out for him in a sense that wasn't religious fanaticism. But like a concerned mother, or caring friend. So he let you push him around. Truly you were a brave soul.

"Must you be here while I strip? I already agreed to take this bath." Roboute grumbled.

But you stood your ground, "Yes, because I know you will try and sneak out once I leave. Fool me once shame on you, but I will not have shame on me Mister Guilliman. I may be a simple serf, but I know your games."

Guilliman frowned, "You are not just a simple serf. And I see I am getting predictable, or you are getting better at tactics."

You laugh, "You are just a one trick green-skin I'm afraid." you tease, "Now, off with the robe. The water will cool and the point of it will be meaningless."

The primarch laughed, no one else would dare to say that to him. Throne you were something special. You made his chest swell and the moments he wasn't working better. You also were making him some amazing food that made breaking to eat much worth it.

"Again, I will be naked!" his cheeks dusted red.

You wave him off, "Mister Guilliman, it's just a penis. I've seen one before. Unless primarchs have weird non-human penis' I am sure I will be okay."

Roboute choked on air and looked at you wide-eyed. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or be offended. So he decided to let the playful side of himself out. The part of him, that so many didn't respond to.

"Are you insinuating I, Roboute Guilliman, son of Konor Guilliman, Avenging Son of the Emperor, has a boring normal penis?" he said feigning offense.

Without skipping a beat you nodded, "Yes. Now robe off and into the tub. I the oil scents you like, water nice and hot, and some salts to help ease those muscles. Honestly, Mister Roboute, those knots could repel bolter fire."

He let out a defeated sigh; though he didn't mind too much. He was looking forward to this bath. Outside of normal hygiene means, you were making take these extra baths for relaxation purposes. You said he was good for his health. And he would be remiss if he said it wasn't having a positive effect. The primarch slipped out of his robe and stepped into the bath. Like you promised it was nice and hot and the oils and salts working his tired skin and muscles. A magic he believed only you could muster.

"Happy now?" He asked looking at you.

You shook your head, "No. This will do for now. I will not be happy until I fill out those cheeks of yours. Mister Guilliman you're all bones and that won't do! Which reminds me. I am trusting you to stay put, so I can make you some find super." you brandished your pointer at him.

Roboute laughed. You couldn't be real, but here you were, "You have my word. I will not be speeding in retreating from this bath."

Satisfied with his answer, "Good, we can't have a Lord Regent who flees from baths! The scandal!' you joke as you leave the room. Guilliam laughing once again.

He hadn't laughed so much since he woke up into this world again. He didn't think he could laugh so much again.

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part one)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The start to an angst-ridden little story, wherein the reader, Aemond's dearest friend (and clandestine love) learns of his apparent new paramour, Alys.

themes/warnings: angst, jealousy, fwb type situation, Aemond is kind of a clueless twat

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

edit(!): this oneshot seems to have taken a life of its own, like most of my fics, quite unexpectedly! I've changed the title from (sapphire) blue heart to sapphire-hearted, and part two will be out in a few hours! is out now!

"Why do you not look at me?" He gently pries your face towards him with his free hand, as you both lie naked on his sheets, his arm wrapped around you. "Have I done something wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing, Aem." You shake your head, letting his hand fall.

He takes one deep breath. He knows you like the back of his hand; he knows something isn't right.

"You're not fooling me, gevie." Beautiful, he calls you, as you sit up and bring your knees to your chest. You feel the cold air on your back, and then, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin.

Gevie. You wonder if he calls Alys the same. After their rumoured trysts. After she is seen leaving his bedchambers. Has she lain among these very sheets herself, where you are now?

You and Aemond were not together, no. You were not betrothed. Your House was too lowly to allow you to wed a Targaryen prince. But he had said he was yours. Just yours.

How has that changed so quickly?

"Speak to me," he pleads. He sits up behind you, kissing the back of your neck. "You know I have my methods of making you do so. Shall I employ them?" You can hear the amusement in his voice, the assuredness.

You thought you loved it more than anything, but now it feels like some cruel jest.

You turn to face him directly. "Is she better than me?"

He leans back, fully aware of who you mean. "Hmm," he purses his lips. "Jealousy does not become you, it seems."

"I'm glad you think me amusing." You bite back, looking away.

"This is amusing. How can you be jealous of her?"

You aren't sure what to make of that question. Is he mocking you, and the justification of your envy? Who are you to him anyway? Just a friend, no?

"Aemond. I thought... that we..."

"You know what we are. How we are. Isn't it enough?"

"Not if I have to share you with some witch!" you rise from his bed, and wrap your cloak around yourself. "I've turned down the finest suitors, simply because you wished me to. Simply because you were jealous. Don't you think you owe me the same courtesy?"

His voice is colder when he responds, "What do you think I am doing with Alys, hmm? Do you think I enjoy having her grace my bedchambers, and have her clawing at me?" He stands too, towering over your stature. "I have never wanted to bed anyone other than you. What I am doing with her... what I have to do with her... It is for the good of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Spare me, Aemond." You swat his hands away, when he reaches for your arms. "Don't..." He tries again, much quicker this time, and he holds your forearms tightly against his bare chest.

"She has magic." There is a wild look in his eye when he says this, and it makes you uneasy. "She sees things, Alys. She can predict what the enemy's next move is, where they'll be. What I am doing with her, lying with her, is but a small price to pay."

"What if you don't lie with her? You don't have to..."

"She asks me to."

"You don't have to. You're the prince! She answers to you, not the other way around."

"I refused, of course, in the beginning." He holds your face gently in his hands now, trying to make you understand. "That did no good. She gave me nothing. I could have her tortured. But this will only serve to distance her even more from our cause."

"So, to get what you want... to hear her incredible visions and benefit from her magical spells, you have to fuck her? Very astute of you, Aemond."

"Careful, my love." He tilts his head, trying to work through your anger.

You use your palms on his chest to push him away. He only stumbles a little, the faint sound of his low growl reaching your ears.

"You know what I'll do?" you threaten, your cloak falling back to the floor as you wave your arms dramatically. "The next dashing Lord that asks for my hand, I'll take. It could be Lord Manderly's son or... Lord Beesbury's eldest boy has made an offer, too. I'll wed him, whoever he is, why not? Even if I don't love him, it will only be a small price to pay," you sneer, mirroring his words from before. "It is what's expected of me, after all. It is for the good of my House."

Aemond's jaw clenches in his rage. "Then I shall have him captured and quartered to pieces in the dungeons before he can even get the chance to - "

"No," you shake your head at his nonsense. "No, you would not. You would not do something like that to me. How would that be fair? You and I, we'll never marry. As it stands, you'd sooner wed your witch than I."

"I would marry you in a heartbeat." He moves closer now, desperation creeping in his voice. His lips meet yours in a haste. Wet and demanding. When you turn your head, he only continues kissing the side of your face. Then he stops, pressing his forehead to your temple. "You know this, my love. You have to know this. Alys is nothing compared to you. Without her, I might lose the war. But without you... I lose myself."

You nearly cave in at that, as you always do when it comes to Aemond. But now, you remind yourself to stand your ground.

"Then prove it to me," you whisper, and a stray tear falls down your cheek. "Do as I ask. Stop being with her."

Seconds pass. Aemond's mind races at the possible outcomes. His heart aches at the sight of your sadness, but he feels compelled to think of other things too.

The war. Defeating the Blacks. Easily gaining the upper hand through dark magic.

At the end of it all - and if he does what he does, it should all end very soon - he will still have you. He's sure of it.

You will always come back to him. You will understand.

"I cannot," he says, his words striking through your heart.

You feel numb all over, but you force yourself to step away from him, and hurriedly put your dress back on.

"My love, please..." He watches helplessly as you tie the strings of your skirts, preparing to leave.

"My prince," you cursty, when you've managed to put yourself together. "I am not certain when, but you're invited to honour us with your presence at my coming marriage ceremony."

"I'd sooner command Vhagar to burn Westeros to ashes."

"You mean, you'd sooner bask in the pleasures that only your witch can offer?" you laugh mirthlessly. "Of course."

You start walking away, determinedly. Ice has flooded your veins and your heart, turning you cold and blue. But you press on. The pain will have to wait for later.

"You'll come back to me," he calls after you.

"Oh, I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you."

You slam the door behind you.

Angst!!! We all need this sometimes. I swear it riles me up so good, I almost wonder if something's messed up with my romantic ideals ....

.... who are we kidding? Of course there is. Because I would marry our one-eyed Vhagar-riding war terrorist in a heartbeat.

taglist open for an upcoming part!

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 1:

Secrets hidden in plain sight

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

Warnings: mention of domestic violence and abusive relationship. Reader is married and has a son.

Summary: Spencer meets the son and wife of one of the police officers they are helping at the moment. There's something strange about them.

You could swear that William had made it his life's mission to turn you gray as soon as possible. You couldn't look away for a second and he'd disappear into the crowd. To make matters worse, you were at the police station to drop off your husband's lunch, which he had forgotten at home. You planned to drop it off and leave as quickly as you could, as the whole atmosphere always made you uncomfortable, but it wasn't as if you felt comfortable anywhere.

You knew he had to be somewhere in there, so you started searching the rooms as quickly as possible, passing the other police officers who were looking at you in confusion and trying not to let despair take over. William was safe in there. It wasn't because Steve's colleagues looked away when you appeared injured that they would do your son any harm.

You just prayed you'd find William before Steve did, or you'd never hear the end of how you didn't take care of his son properly. The son he barely remembered he had, even though they lived in the same house.

"Willy? Willy! Thank God!" you exclaimed, seeing your little 5-year-old son's head from afar and approaching at a fast pace. "Don't ever do that again, William! You've got me worried to death!"

The boy at least had the decency to look embarrassed as he whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known you were his mother I would have taken him to you," a voice said.

That's when you became aware of the presence of a strange man, one you'd never seen in the police station before and who wasn't wearing a uniform. Tense, you stood in front of Willy and looked at him suspiciously. He was tall, with brown curls adorning a face that would have made you blush if you were still at college, but at the moment, he was the suspicious man talking to your son.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry," he muttered as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and showed you his ID. "Agent Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI. We're helping with the case of the missing girls."

Spencer avoided frowning when he saw that even your identity didn't completely reassure you, you still looked as tense as before, even though you were no longer hiding your child behind your body. Being a profiler, he couldn't help but analyze other people, focusing on the way you looked tired, with dark circles under your eyes and your skin pale in an almost unhealthy way, your long-sleeved shirt being too hot. You didn't seem to be attacking him, you seemed to be defending yourself. As if you genuinely believed that Spencer was going to hurt you. It was strange.

"Mom, he's a wizard! It's incredible!" William exclaimed, attracting their attention.

You turned your focus away from Spencer for a moment, giving your son a weak smile as you stroked his hair, even though you didn't know what he was talking about.

"Um..." Spencer began, and you turned to see what he was going to say. "I thought it would be a good idea to distract him with magic tricks, you know? While I couldn't find his parents."

Forcing yourself to relax, you took a deep breath before flashing your most genuine forced smile at the FBI agent.

"Thank you for that. He's so hyper."

"No need to thank me, he was a great stagehand."

The doctor's smile seemed genuine in a way you hadn't seen in a long time and it almost unsettled you. You didn't like that, you couldn't have predicted what would come next. With Steve, you almost always knew what to do. When to send William to his room so he wouldn't see anything that would traumatize him, when to apologize, and when to stay silent. Spencer Reid was a valley of strangeness that you decided you hated.

"There you are! I thought you weren't coming." You heard the grumble of that familiar voice, the heavy footsteps coming closer and closer and you had to remind yourself that he wouldn't do anything in public.

"I was just... a little late."

Spencer knew exactly how to recognize fear when he saw it. It was an instinctive reaction, the immediate shudder when she heard the voice of the policeman approaching the three of them. The man was part of the search team he had been introduced to earlier. No one worth paying much attention to so far.

"Dad." William spoke, much more withdrawn than before, albeit with a small smile on his face.

Reid understood what he was doing; the boy was waiting for an instruction from his mother. He had seen enough tense family dynamics in his life.

When you left, going out with Steve - your husband, probably, the rings matched - her gaze met Spencer's again. What he saw there made any explanation unnecessary.

- Hey, Reid. Come and look at this. - Derek called out.

Distracted by work for the rest of the day, Spencer still couldn't get his gaze off his head. It was empty. Without any kind of hope. Without even the desperation that would at least indicate that you were trying to ask for help.

"Morgan," he said at a random moment in the day, making his friend turn to him, "how often do you think women accept abuse at home because they have children?"

Derek snorted.

"In my experience? All the time."

That made his stomach sink.

In the next chapter: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

[starzgaze]

ARCHIVED: annoyance [unfinished]

pairing: sjw/archivist!reader

unreliable synopsis: [y.name] tries to discreetly follow jinwoo but they fail so badly that jinwoo played them lmao

a/n: [y.name] whole job is from an oc so if you need a bit of context on how they work you can check my oc ophion because this is a self indulgent piece huhuhu.. also shit english and its unfinished so yeah erm

[y.name] stared down the intricately detailed paper in front of them. It honestly looked like something straight out of some fairytale but [y.name] knew better. It was a personal announcement stating where there's a bit of information that's incorrect or not processed correctly in their archives.

They sighed in irritation.

The archivist crumpled the piece of paper and then threw it aggressively to some wall, letting out an annoyed groan.

"AGH! This rarely happened before even in past timelines?? It only happened when he—" [y.name] ranted before shoving their face into their hands and let out an irritated groan again. They genuinely started to hate this job that was forcibly imposed on them.

And that job was being an archivist to archive everything that happened in this world for the purpose that their now dead boss, the absolute being, could look through the records [y.name] made if they got bored of the monarchs and rulers fighting and went off somewhere else. [y.name]'s job was supposed to made easier because information from the future and past would be forcibly injected into their head like some sort of epiphany because the movements of everything that the absolute being made was predictable. Which means they don't have to manually archive it.

That is until Sung Jin-woo came in.

That... man... almost drove [y.name] into insanity. Right after the dungeon incident, [y.name] ordinarily archived whatever happened to Sung Jin-woo in the dungeon and assumed he would have an average 'Second Awakening' and nothing more.

But when [y.name] archived it they were immediately greeted with an announcement that the information they archived was incorrect. [y.name] rose a brow at this.

They were rarely wrong so how can this be? The last time they archived something wrong was the time where Antares did something so out of character or Ashborn constantly doing decisions that even the existing predictions couldn't match his choices. [y.name] was definitely confused at this but they didn't pay that much mind to it.

They simply adjusted it and tweaked around until it approved the information [y.name] archived then after this [y.name] thought they'll never encounter this ever again for a while.

Until it repeated.

and repeated

repeated

repeated......

....aaanndd repeated......

...

"oh my god I think I'm gonna bald from stress" [y.name] whined as they gripped the folder in their hands and narrowed their eyes at the profile in the folder. The archivist gritted their teeth at the sight of the hunter.

S-rank hunter, Sung Jin-woo.

"Just how the hell did you become this strong?!!?"

The folder flew into the air as [y.name] threw it as they covered their face exasperatedly. The only thing that was haunting [y.name]'s days was Sung Jin-woo, the very reason of why they stay up at night and grovel at the thought of.

Ever since his sudden rise in the rankings in Korea, [y.name]'s work as an archivist doubled. They had to manually archive every little decision Jin-woo made in his life that'll affect the world or even the universe with how powerful he's getting. It was difficult for sure, especially when they're trying to not seem like a creep discreetly following the hunter around trying to jot down whatever Jin-woo is doing because now this magical force that helped them archive doesn't work on him.

"Eugghhh. How many days left before this guy is gonna figure out I've been following him for the past few months" [y.name] sighed as they turned their head over to where the folder fell. Their eyes hardened at thr sight of the folder, annoyance bubbling inside of them. Sung Jinwoo is seriously making their job harder than it should be.

Jin-woo can't miss how a figure would tail him whenever he was in public and most definitely whenever he's in a high ranking dungeon for some reason.

He would occasionally catch them at his peripheral vision but when he actually turn his head and try to see who it was they would magically disappear. Jin-woo could easily of course appear in their shadow but this figure hasn't posed a threat to him or to anyone he loved.

"My leige, they're tailing your trail again. Do you wish for me to dispose them?" Beru reported as he materialized behind Jin-woo. He raised his hand and waved it dismissively. "No need. Let them be"

In truth, Jin-woo recognized the figure. He was sure that the elusive stalker he has doesn't recognize them anymore but Jin-woo does.

[y.name], one of the few who didn't laughed behind Jin-woo's back but instead encouraged him and served as someone of inspiration for Jin-woo.

To be fair, Jin-woo used to have a small crush on [y.name] before but he forgotten about it when he was going through his grueling training of the system. This mostly became the reason why his feelings for [y.name] dwindled but it quickly resurfaced when they started trailing him around.

[drunknillawafer]

right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 3

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

hiii here is part 3! hopefully you guys like it, i'm still getting used to writing a fic and keeping it published... rmr to like/reblog/comment if u like it, it's like feedback >.< again i do not own these characters or the atla universe this is simply fan fiction! about 2331 words btww

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

“You don’t actually believe any of this stuff, do you?” Sokka painfully reminds me of his disapproving attitude.

We were walking through the forest when we ran into an eerie man. He gave us an umbrella because a psychic in his village told him to hold it on his travels if he met strangers. A few minutes later, Sokka was too stubborn to believe the old man and couldn't stay dry.

Katara and I took one look at each other and immediately agreed. We have to go see this lady.

Events like these would be odd to anyone else, like Jet. But to Aang, it’s pretty common. It must be his tie to the spirit realm, magic gravitates toward him.

A few weeks after joining the group and abandoning my post with the Freedom Fighters, I learned a lot of things about the people who stumbled upon that Fire Nation camp and changed the trajectory of my plans. Katara and Sokka are siblings from the Southern Water Tribe, and Aang is an airbender from… a while ago. He was frozen in the ice for one hundred years when Katara found him. For a kid 4 years younger than me, he's lived a hundred lifetimes. He's a prodigy. I can see why Zuko hadn’t caught up to them yet.

But I also don’t want to know what Zuko would do to Aang if he did catch up, or what I’d do if he did.

I don’t know my place in this group, or if I should tell them I’m a fire-bender, but for now, we’re standing in front of a circular red door at the strange village the eerie man told us to go to.

Apparently, Aunt Wu has been waiting for us.

“Kind of, it’s nice to know,” I reply to Sokka’s earlier question. I've decided to keep my questions to Aunt Wu light, like Katara. Ask about love.

When we enter, a little girl in a pink robe and two buns on the side of her head greets us.

“I’m Meng and I’m Aunt Wu’s assistant." She motions towards the orange pillows on the right for us to sit down. It’s a small warm yellow waiting room with red lights, green accents, and a smooth wooden floor. Designed for someone to trust and open up. Cozy. “Would you guys like some tea or bean curd puffs?” She offers.

“I’ll try a puff!” Sokka perks up. Meng leaves the room to retrieve the goods and we are left alone, sitting on the soft cushions.

Aang can't help but break the tempting silence, “You don’t believe in fortune telling, Sokka?”

“I don’t need some psychic to tell me about the future. I’m worried about right now.”

I roll my eyes. “Sokka’s a skeptic.”

Before he can reply, Meng returns with the curd puffs and tea. She sets it down on the floor in front of Aang, making sure he can see her favor. “Enjoy!” She blushes and scurries away to the other side of the room reserved for the people who work with Aunt Wu. Do they get predictions too?

Sokka drags the tray away from an unbothered Aang, “Don’t mind if I do.”

I’d gotten used to Katara and Aang, they were fairly easy to travel with.

Katara is used to her brother and has developed a habit of preparing an apology about him to new people. In his defense, this is the first time he's lived outside his home. The Southern Water Tribe has been unable to fully recover from the last Fire Nation raid and the impacts still live today. The siblings are only used to the cold, quaint, and silent.

Aang, as the last air-bender, the Avatar, and a 12-year-old boy adjusting to being essentially gone from humanity for one hundred years in the ice... has other things on his mind.

It was Sokka who bothered me. He was unlike anyone I’d ever met before.

He had this incessant need to voice his opinions with no one's feelings in mind. Constant tunnel vision over any dispute with his younger sister betrayed his need to be a vicious warrior. A warrior with a boomerang and no sword on hand.

I've learned Sokka's a non-bender living in a world being corrupted by fire-benders and he's developed the necessary armor.

He’ll take the fishing job for us when we’re out of money. He did get us sick for being out in the storm, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

The same reason he can be frustrating is the same reason he saved the village: he won’t listen to anyone when his mind is set.

He’s true and noble, really. It’s admiring. I shake my head. He’s a conundrum.

An older woman wearing a floor-length yellow robe walks in through the circular door to Aunt Wu's working area. Her bright smile and waiting eyes are signs that she's the psychic. In a sweet tone, she gleefully asks, “Welcome! Who wants to go first?”

I look at everyone, but no one speaks up. After a moment of silence, I raise my hand. “I’ll go.”

“Perfect, follow me!” Aunt Wu guides me through the hallway and stops in front of the door to her space. She opens and I’m instantly greeted by dim lights and a small fireplace in the middle of the room. Colorful cushions to sit on and lit candles on the floor are placed circularly near a decorative stand with a bowl. A closer look and I see small and medium-sized bones at the very top.

“This is my method." She must've seen my reaction and answered the questions all over it. "You choose a bone, throw it in a fire. The fire makes cracks in the bones, and I read the cracks. The bones never lie.” She explains. “Go ahead.”

I grab a random bone and, per her instructions, throw it in the fire. I watch as the flames engulf the calcium.

We sit in front of the fire on the berry-colored pillows as we patiently wait for the cracks to start forming. Aunt Wu is focused on the fortune while I look around the room, pretending I’m not waiting for her next words.

“Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t know, I mean. You can just tell me what the bones say.” I chicken out from my original plan.

By now, there are a few cracks in my chosen bone. Aunt Wu burrows her eyebrows and leans forward. “I see you... falling in love with a warrior.” She pauses. “His mother figure left his life early when he was just a little boy. He is an excellent swordsman and an even better friend.”

Deflecting, I question her, “You can see all of that from a bunch of cracks?"

“Yes, you’ll take part in a great battle with this love of yours. Remember to look in friendship.” She gracefully leans her head up and down, signaling the end of the session.

“I will,” I nod. “Thank you, Aunt Wu.” I stand up from my pillow and bow to her as a gesture of goodbye. I wonder if she knew what I wanted to ask.

When I exit the room through the door, I’m greeted by a flustered Sokka on the other end.

“Spying on me?” I ask him, fighting a smile on my face.

“No, I was just – going to the bathroom!” He spoke. Quickly, he marched to the restrooms beyond Aunt Wu’s door. O-kay.

I walk back to the waiting room and tell Katara to go in after me. She jumps up from her seat in a giddy excitement and heads toward the back room.

I sit next to Aang on the soft pillows and search for the curd puffs. Sokka made them look so good.

“So, what do you think she’s going to ask?” Aang says as he hands me the snack.

“Probably about love, you know. Who she’s going to marry. If he’s gonna be tall.” I stuff the curd puff into my mouth and let the savory taste absorb my mind. These are good.

“Yeah, haha, right. Well…I’ll be right back.” He stands up. “I gotta go to the bathroom!” Apparently, everyone needs to right now. But it’s the first stop we’ve made in about an hour, so.

“Say hi to Sokka for me.” I watch as he hurries away. A few seconds later, the boy in blue returns.

I hold a puff in my hand and point at the delicious snack for emphasis. “Hey, these are great.”

He sits next to me and grabs one for himself, eating it in one bite. He seems to be in thought. “Are you okay?” I poke.

With his mouth stuffed he speaks, “Yeah, I’m great.”

☆

When we leave Aunt Wu’s, Sokka is walking next to me as Katara and Aang lead the way through the village. He doesn't leave my side as we walk through the maze of Earth Kingdom commune layouts.

We finally reach the town square when Katara asks, “What happened to the sky?” It looked like the citizens all took the day to meet here and stare upward in unison, murmuring to themselves.

A man standing nearby overhears her question. “Every year, Aunt Wu reads the clouds and tells us the fate of our village.” Please with his answer, he continues to watch the sky.

“Can you believe this guy?” Sokka looks at me in disbelief. “Now the clouds?”

Another villager, a woman, continues the explanation. “She’s going to tell us if the volcano will remain dormant.” Her arm extends behind her and points to the harmless mountain.

Do they actually let Aunt Wu tell them if the volcano is going to erupt?

“Do you actually let Aunt Wu tell you if the volcano is going to erupt? Why?” Sokka asks them. The other half of the time, we find ourselves agreeing.

“She’s coming, hush!” Katara shushes her brother.

Aunt Wu walks right in the middle of the crowd as they make way for her, clapping and cheering. She begins to list the shape of the clouds, followed by a fortune for the town. Good harvest, twins are having a good year, and the volcano will not erupt.

“She’s been right for twenty years, maybe that’s a sign she can be trusted.” I nudge Sokka with my elbow. He rolls his eyes in annoyance, I’ve been bought like the rest of them.

Katara and Aang are swept away by the current of cheers and idolization for Aunt Wu. Though, it seems like since we got here Aang’s head has been anywhere else but, on the psychic, and her predictions.

“Right…” A suddenly serious Sokka pulls me by my arm. He uses the wave of hysteria as his moment to step away from the group. Begrudgingly, I feel my heart drop into my stomach from his hand touching my arm. “Just in case she ends up, being right, I want to let you know that… uh…” He lets the seconds fly by.

“Spit it out.”

“I like you.” He lets out.

Oh.

“And I know you’re not really like open to people in general,” He continues. “It’s been a few weeks and I hardly know about your life before the Freedom Fighters.” Sokka pauses to read my face. “But I like you. Ever since I first saw you.”

I haven’t really shared anything about myself with them, true.

It was the morning after.

Fire Lord Ozai ordered his best General, my father, and his family, me, to attend a Royal Agni Kai. They didn’t happen much but when they did, it was required for all the important people of the Fire Lord’s inner circle and their families to attend. Some twisted tradition.

When I arrived in the sea of crimson clothes and serious faces, I believed I was going to witness an agni kai between Zuko’s Uncle Iroh and his brother. Who else could it be? I was wrong. I saw Iroh in the audience, and it felt like a thousand pounds had been rested on my chest. I wouldn’t believe what I had to endure next. What Zuko had to experience.

I would see Fire Lord Ozai’s fire-bending with my own two eyes, but it would be against my best friend, his son.

Now, I’m locking myself in my room in defiance. I don’t want to have anything to do with my father if he’d let me see the cruelty up close and personal. He took everything I love and messed it all up in one swift choice. Rage wouldn’t begin to describe the feeling bubbling in my throat.

I wasn’t sure if I should go see Zuko, if his injuries are unsafe for visitors. I’d regret it as soon as the servant brought the letter the prince had sent to me.

As I close the door to my chambers behind the maid, I open the note for the sign of anything relieving.

Y/N,

Father banished me. I must go find the Avatar, so I’m leaving on a ship. Uncle is coming. I don’t know when I’ll see you again, so I wanted to let you know that I will restore my honor and come home to you. I love you

Zuko

I re-read the note three times before understanding what it is that he’s telling me.

The bubble in my throat is slowly forming into a ball of tears, ready to pour out at any minute. He’s gone. Mutilated by his own father and then sent away. I hate him, I hate the Fire Lord. For everything he’s taken away from me.

On the other end, I feel butterflies. The ones I’d been pushing down for the past year about Zuko. I didn’t want to ruin what we had or change it. We were nice as we were. I guess he was feeling it too.

But it’s too late. There’s no more time to sit and wonder if a boy likes you back. It’s not about that anymore. It’s about finally ending this war and stopping the Fire Nation.  

“So, what do you think?” Sokka looks at me, searching for an indication in my eyes.

“I…” struggle to find the words, “But I can’t. Not right now... Is that okay?” It’s my turn to look at him and hope I didn’t ruin it.

But Sokka’s kind. “Of course. I understand. I just thought you should know. I’ll be here, yaknow, if you change your mind.” He flashes that grand smile at me.

I didn't know if I wanted to start this here and now. He doesn't even know I'm a fire-bender. Would he feel the same way if he knew? I'm not ready for any answer.

Still, it was nice to know he liked me back. I could revel in that a bit.

[kunikukitty]

✐ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

xi. covet

The last time you held a pencil was a couple of months ago, and it was used for shading your answers in exam.

You prepared yourself mentally before going here, yet you really cannot run away for too long.

You thought that messaging Mona would atleast ease your nerves, but it's no use, you're still overwhelmed. Being inside an art studio where you're surrounded by different types and brands of mediums is surely taking a toll on your mind.

You're tempted to pick up something, whatever it is, anything could be used to create strokes and form a shape.

But you can't. The materials not being yours is one thing, but the fact that it might cause you to actually give up on art. Because yes, you still have hope, you are still wishing for that talent to magically come back to you, just not yet.

You remember the times of your frustration. A blank paper awaits in front of you to be filled with yet another masterpiece. With a flick of your wrist, you guided your pencil to leave an ink behind. You did it a few more times, but it's not turning out good.

Erase, draw, erase and draw.

The lines ain't making sense, the paper is almost ripped due to the continuous erasing. You're beginning to lose your patience, the image in your head is turning blurry. The more you try to correct the mistake, the worse they get. It is the only thing you're capable of doing, so you have to finish it. You cannot fail.

Silly you thought it was just an artblock, and you told yourself that you cannot have that now. You have to fight it. You have to create something. You did not allow yourself to rest until you manage to draw something pretty.

You tried, tried and tried again and again. Until your hand stopped moving and your creativity dried up.

You remember how your wrists, fingers, and inside your head feels like there's something so itchy internally that you cannot soothe.

"What are you doing?"

You were surprised that you almost let out a gasp. You looked over to the door to see Scaramouche looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "I suggest not to steal anything, I have all of my materials memorized."

The gasp now left your mouth. "Are you accusing me of thievery?!"

He simply shrugged, and when he put down something that's when you noticed he's holding a tray, with food in it.

"Wow, I didn't expect you're the type to give food to your guests."

"Yeah, right? Shocking. Especially to you? I'm too kind." He rolled his eyes at you. "Quick. Eat now so we can start."

"Oh wait, you mean... you'll paint me eating?"

"You just confirmed my assumption of you. You're pretty stupid." He remained indifferent while you glare at him. "I told you I'm too kind, didn't I? I'm letting you eat before making you stay still."

'Oh yes, of course of course...' you muttered irritably under your breath as you walked towards the table where he placed the tray. He managed to hear them, even heard his name being cursed—a predictable response from you, really.

Nonetheless, you're thankful. Although you aren't on good terms(but not really much on bad terms either) with each other, he still prepared something for you. He can choose not to, but he did. Not to mention, you are indeed hungry right now.

You look at the plate and it's a... jelly? Transparent too, but you can't make out what's inside. The most dominant color is light brown, and theres some orange, yellow, white— maybe it's a gelatin cake? You've only seen those in videos, where they decorate floral designs and whatnots inside the gelatin. This jelly is not as pretty, though.

You took the spoon he prepared and sliced a small piece, and the texture inside interests you. The spoon glides easily unto it yet at the middle part it gets a little hard— and inside the brown part is white. You took a closer look by bringing the spoon close to your face, the closeness made the scent of it go through your nostrils.

By the look of it, it seems like a— wait... is that...

"Is this meat??? Inside a jelly?!" You were appalled. Is this a joke? Is this a prank? Your eyes are wide open as you looked at him, stunned.

"What?" He clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "That's a traditional snezhnayan dish, kholodets. How rude of you to react that way."

Wait, what? "Oh." You calm yourself. Right, you're in a different country, their cuisine is different from your homeland. Now you feel bad from reacting like that, it's no different from his earlier statements about blind people, you think.

Not wanting to stoop down his level, you fixed your composure and sat straight. "Right, sorry." you say with seemingly matured tone, putting the spoon down.

"I even chose carefully what to serve you, especially after I heard from Caps that you're a picky eater." He said, shaking his head and clicking his tongue again repeatedly. He looked so disappointed, too.

You may dislike him, that's true, but you're a person with morals. You don't like upsetting people unless you're purposely doing so.

So took the spoon again in your hand, the little piece still in the scoop, then you brought it into your mouth.

Your eyebrows contort in disgust as you taste the unfamiliar food. Boiled meat with meaty jelly, complex seasoning and unusual flavor— you don't understand. The jelly... is it supposed to be the broth? It doesn't go well, in your opinion. Disturbing, for you.

Amidst your evaluation of the taste, your ears caught on a quiet chuckle.

You turn your head, only to see Scaramouche looking down at you as if belittling you.

"So it's true," he starts, "for foreigners, kholodets is unappetizing at first glance. I really thought you wouldn't give it a taste, but you did. How surprising."

The face you make is that of someone who just got betrayed. He doesn't even look like a snezhnayan himself! You forced to swallow the bits in your mouth, "You..!"

The remaining chance for your relation with him to be amended is completely gone now. How dare he? You regret playing nice with him. Men are truly atrocious beings. How can Capitano even tolerate this guy?

You're utterly shock. And how did the fucker react now? Giggling, like an ass. He looks too amused, in fact.

While he's in a laughing state, you took the time to drink water.

"Glad to give you fun. Didn't know you're so childish."

He shrugged, unaffected. "You won't eat anymore?"

His sarcastic smile is annoying you. You really shouldn't had agreed to this. "It was so delicious Im already full at first bite. Thank you very much."

You watch him take a round brush and sit sit on the stool with the canvas im front of him. He looked at you, "Come on." he said, pointing at the other stool.

You rolled your eyes before obeying. "Pose?"

"Arms up."

"Fuck you."

He chuckled again and you're beginning to dislike the sound of it. "Try Mona Lisa's."

You crossed your legs elegantly and straighten your back. You faced left a little, mimicked her hands in your memories, and... should you smile too?

"Is Da Vinci your fave artist?"

...Fuck.

You want to slap your mouth at this very moment. That was out of instinct, you guess. You like asking artists you meet their favorite historical artist— well, before.

No, it's alright. Knowing Da Vinci is a basic knowledge, even non-artists knows that. You shouldn't think too much.

"What if I say it's Picasso?"

You don't know how to react to his answer. Would it be obvious that you're an (ex) artist if you react as if you know?

You remember how confused Itto was when he learned that not many artists like Picasso. He's dumb though... but still!

Should you act confused too? Should you act knowledgeable?

You glanced at his artworks on the wall with your peripheral vision, who could he be inspired of? However, when you looked at him again, he's paying attention to his canvas.

Maybe he doesn't care. Good, good. Stay that way.

Wait... His hand is moving. He started now, yet he hasn't told you to smile yet, should your expression remain fierce?

Okay, now you're nervous again. Does your face look asymmetrical? Can he see the texture of your face at this distance? The corner of your eyes do not have gound, right? You want to lick your lips but you're not sure if you should move. It's not chapped, right? You only applied light make up, it's not too much, right?

"Relax." You heard him say. It felt like you were allowed to breathe again.

Right, right. Relax. This is another one of your reasons why tou dislike being a muse, you feel awkward! What are you so nervous of, anyway? This man, asshole one at that?

He doesn't deserve your kindness anyway. You may make funny faces to tick him off, you couldn't care less.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. You don't know how much time passed but you guess the painting is going smoothly. It doesn't seem like he's struggling nor does he look stressed.

But what matter is... how long is this going to take?!

You, personally, it takes so much time to finish a painting. Hell— you don't think you were able to finish a piece in just one day.

"Can't you just take a picture of me?"

Not being able to move too much is annoying for most people, you're not an exception. You're an impatient person, too. And you're still on a stool, too!

One word, tiring.

"That defeats the purpose."

Your eyes narrowed and your lips curled inwards. "Everything has evolved, we're in modern world."

"Besyashchaya devushka." You didn't understand what he muttered under his breath. "Shut up and stay still, fix your expression."

There's no point in convincing him, you realize.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. Being in this room is surely annoying. The emotions you've been trying to reject ever since you step foot in here is resurfacing much stronger now. Especially now that you have nothing to distract yourself and there's an artist painting in front of you.

You miss it— holding a brush, the feeling of relaxation when the process is going well, the challenge of drawing the reference...

You miss all of it. You want to paint again.

"Fix your expression."

You were taken aback of his words. He noticed the slightest change, he must be really paying attention. Artists are truly amazing, aren't they?

Scaramouche. That's his name, right?

He's rich, he can buy as many materials a he like. Based on this studio; he can sculpt, paint, draw with charcoals, color with different types of mediums.

This could've been your life too if you didn't stop drawing, you think. But no. He's much more capable and skillful.

Come to think of it, you never even hang your works on the walls of your house. You don't even have many finished artworks, and the finished ones aren't that beautiful.

You heard him click his tongue. "I told you to fix your expression, don't I? If you're eager for this to be done as soon as possible, then do as I say."

"When did you began to draw?"

"None of your business." He glared at you, "Look, if you have time to kill, waste is somewhere else. Don't start a chitchat with me, I don't have all day."

Wow. Now he's the one annoyed, when he was the one who wasted time earlier by making you eat something he know you wouldn't like? He's funny.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. After a while, it was done. You checked the time and it has only been two hours and a couple of minutes that passed ever since he started.

That was fast.

"Can I see it?" When he nodded, you immediately approached the painting.

Honestly, you were expecting it to be a little messy in style with some defined parts since it was just done in two hours. But the painting is a perfect copy of you, as if he took a picture of you. The only blurred part is the background, and your entire image is refined. He caught everything in perfect precision.

Is this even humanly possible? Two hours is too short for this.

You take back what you thought earlier. This could've been your life too? You wanted to laugh at yourself. Compared to him, your level is way too low— even if it's the you from before.

prev | masterlist | next

taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt @tamikahoshiko @scaraenthusiast1 @sketcheeee @xxrougefangxx @luciledreamz @icomeheretolaughnottofeel @sereniteav @lily-lmao @h3xi2g0n3 (i cant tag those in bold)

note. i searched the worst rated russian food and interviewed some russians for this okay, don't come at me (for this ill share something in my country that foreigns would find disgusting— a cup of coffee poured in rice!)

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀�� 18+ minors LOOK THE OTHER WAY

Ch 007: Buckle Up, Baby

A night in the town with Eddie takes a spicy turn when an outfit on display catches your eyes. And what do ya know? It’s your exact measurement…

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 3.5k words

disclaimers & warnings — dialogue heavy, arguing, trauma dumping again, angst, yearning, shy girl yelling at eddie (as she should), sexual tension, grinding, thigh riding, car canoodling 🫣

“She’s a black magic woman, she’s trying to make a devil out of me.”

♡

Spellbinding is the best word you can think of to describe Nocturna, a town spookier than Hawkins just 20 minutes inland. It sure lives up to its name, with the average closing time for restaurants, bars, and shops being 3:30 AM.

“This city is so cute,” you beam. “Love the late night vibe it’s got going on.”

“Right?” Eddie agrees. “If Hawkins were a Spencer’s, ‘Turna would be the back of it.”

Eds takes you to El Diablo Bar & Grill where you settle for a ‘TURNA Tossed salad’ and beer. ‘The Eddie Special’ may have left you full, but there’s no way you’d ever pass up free food.

Your boss helps himself to a couple of beers as well, both of them way too hoppy for your liking. And just as you predicted, downing two of those bad boys after smoking a shit ton of weed has its repercussions.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

Personal space is a foreign concept for Eddie whenever he’s under the influence. Not like that’s any new information. You just didn’t expect him to be so tender, affectionately fiddling with your hair, using it as a mustache, and then attempting to braid it. You’re surprised because he actually does pretty well.

“Where’d you learn how to braid?” you ask.

“Taught myself,” he replies. “That way if Nancy ever calls out, someone at Hellfire would at least know how to do hair. Luckily I haven’t ran into that problem yet.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” you swoon as Eddie goes to braid your other side.

“I’m also learning how to curl hair,” Eddie adds. “If I could get past burning myself with the iron, that’d be great. Until then, I’ll always vouch for a traditional sock bun.”

You watch has he loops your hair around itself to secure the braid, just as he did the first one. Then comes the unpredictable. Suddenly, you’re taken aback when Eddie gives your hair a tug. Aggressively.

“Eddie!” you cry out.

He spirals into an outrageous belly laugh.

You shove Eddie away from you in a playful form of disgust, his dramatics launching him right out of his seat. Customers start to look your way. You hide your face in embarrassment.

“I think you’ve flown off the handle,” you accuse.

“No,” he denies. “Just comfortable that’s all.”

“Yeah and a bully,” you hiss, undoing your braids out of spite. He knows you’re kidding around.

“What?” Eddie questions, reeling you in via bar stool, smirk growing more and more prominent the closer you get. “You don’t like that I pull hair?”

“That’s enough, you little freak.”

Eddie stops, jokingly wincing at your harsh words. "Thought you were into freaks."

"...Shut up,” is all you can think to say.

"Come on..." he taunts, giving your side a soft pinch. “You know I'm right."

He is right.

You poke his stomach with one of your pointy fingers.

"Okay, and what if I was? Does that get you off? Mr. Know-It-All?”

Eddie clears his throat and squirms in his seat.

"No, actually,” he shakes his head, leaning into your touch. “Cuz that's just not true.”

Your eyes find each other again.

An apology lingers in the air. Eddie bites his lower lip as he stares, closing the gap between you two with a slight turn of his knee. You explore his dark irises, his wide pupils. When fixated on you, they emit what appears to be sorrow, with just a pinch of regret.

"Sometimes I'm wrong. And I fuck up,” he admits. “Whether I like to admit it or not."

Eddie chugs the remainder of his pint before slamming it.

You shrug. “Yeah. Like when you told me to get off my phone today but stayed on yours the entire time.”

Eddie chuckles away from you.

“Playing music…” you persist, leaning into him a little more. “Texting people…”

“You jealous?” he questions, tongue rolling around in his cheek.

“In your dreams,” you lie.

You’re so close to him now you can practically smell the beer. He inches closer, the front portion of his curly locks tickling the side of your face.

“In your dreams.”

Your thighs clench. In your dreams, indeed. Eddie winks at you like he knows.

“Whatever you say,” you scoff. “Freak.”

———— 🌹————

After dinner, you and Eddie decide to walk around the shopping strip. Eddie walks closest to the street, leaving you on the innermost part of the sidewalk like a gentleman.

“So who’s Wayne? Heard you and Henry talking about him before we left.”

“He's my uncle,” Eddie answers. “Pretty much raised me since I was a kid. I owe a lot to him.”

You continue to walk. Somehow along the way, you and Eddie end up strolling with your arms around each other. He turns to ask,

“Who is Max?”

“Max?” you’re stunned to hear that name roll off his tongue. Despite him helping with her YMCA membership, you had always registered them as being worlds apart from each other. “She’s my sister.”

Eddie slowly nods in understanding.

“Her full name is Maxine,” you explain. “Max for short.”

“No wonder,” Eddie chuckles. “I always hear you mentioning a Max and have been wondering who that is.”

“You jealous?” you echo him.

He sneers, “You wish.”

You take this time to admire Eddie. His wanderlust eyes. His pronounced Cupid’s Bow. His thick, wavy locks. The tiny freckle at the crook of his neck that you were sure a lover left for him in a past life. The way his dark clothes always seem to hug him so nice. He’s breathtaking. The hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

"WHOA!" Eddie brings you back. "That's the hottest shit I've ever seen!"

There he goes again. You race after Eddie as he scampers across the street, leading you to what appears to be a lingerie-slash-sex shop. On display is a beautiful scarlet red two piece with fluffy wings behind it to match.

DEVIL WOMAN, is what the set is advertised as.

"Whew, lord," Eddie whistles, pressing his hands against the plexiglass.

He turns to you desperately.

"You can make SO many tips with this on," Eddie insists. "I'm telling you right now woman, you need to seize this opportunity."

"Are you gonna pay for it?" you joke, batting your lashes seductively.

"Sure!" Eddie exclaims. "A-anything you want tonight, you'll get."

It sounds too good to be true.

"Not you trying to spoil me..."

"Definitely me trying to spoil you,” a sneaky smirk forms across his face yet again. “Especially since I’ve been an asshole lately.”

It’s a fair bargain. Not like you can deny it either.

You two shake hands, deal, and make your merry way inside Madame Sédutrice’s Love Boutique.

Time to make his pockets — and heart — hurt.

————💋 ————

It fits you like a glove.

Everything is just right. There is no free space, but there is some real estate to breathe. The set is also squat and split proof. Perfect for a good show.

You strut in front of the mirror like a Victoria’s Secret Devil, relishing over how well the fiery red set accentuates your bust, hugs your hips, and highlights the cheekiest parts of your ass with just enough coverage to have the men wondering.

To leave Eddie wondering.

You’re parading around some more, taking selfies at all angles while Eddie talks to the cashier about guitars. Eventually he does circle back around, as you've been in here for a long period of time.

"Shy Girl," Eddie checks on you from outside. "Did you die in there?"

You put your phone away.

"No, but you're about to."

He laughs. "I love the confidence. Let me at her."

You pull the curtain over so that Eddie can see.

“Jesus fuck.”

Eddie sinks down to his knees, the tips of his fingers trailing from your hips to your thighs, down to your calves. He’s being dramatic again, you think, evident by the three bows of resignation he gives you as he continues to take in your beauty.

"What do you think?" you ask him.

"Simply out of this world," Eddie gasps. He stands to spin you around like he once did before. "You look... like an absolute fantasy. Destined for some alternate dimension."

His breathing heightens as his rough hands trail down to your birthmark. And soon, you’re up there with him.

“I can already see you on that stage,” Eddie gushes. “Doing your thing, stealing the show, driving customers wild. The spotlight soaking in all your beauty...”

“The version of me living in your head sounds pretty damn cool,” you giggle.

You snake your arms around the nape of his neck. Eddie blushes. “She’s a lot like the girl in front of me, actually.”

Either of you can let go now. But you both don't.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks.

"Mmm… I don't think I'm done just yet," you bat your eyes once more. "What’s a set like this without some accessories?"

You grab his hand and he watches in shock — almost starstruck by you — when you manually wrap his hand around your neck.

“Like a necklace of sorts,” you continue. “A choker, maybe?”

“A choker,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He gives you a teasing, gentle squeeze. You’re an absolute puddle.

He grins at you connivingly, playfully.

"Lead the way, m'lady. Anything you want tonight is yours.”

———— 🔥 ————

Satisfied is an understatement. You’re strutting back to Eddie’s van now as he trails closely behind, hauling shopping bags that belong to you in each hand.

“Thank you Eddie,” you say as he manages to open the door for you too.

“Anytime, Princess,” he insists.

You get settled on the passenger side while Eddie starts the van back up again. He waits for a while in his seat.

“You looked stunning in that piece,” Eddie raves, the image of you strutting around still living in his head. “I almost don’t want you to wear it anymore.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

“I wanna be the only one who gets to see you in it,” he explains.

“Gatekeeper much?”

“No, I’m just selfish,” he says. “Especially when you look like that.”

Eddie takes it upon himself to fasten your seatbelt for you.

Your eyes trail along as he clicks it in place, adjusting the seatbelt so that it laid perfectly and untangled, protecting your hips…shielding your chest…

“My eyes only, you know?”

“Just yours?”

“Mhm,” he strains. “Mine and only mine.”

His gentle eyes are begging, glued to your lips like bees to honey. His tongue pokes out again, and you watch as he licks his lips in lust. Fuck. You can’t help it anymore. You decide to lean into him and try again.

But hostile air stops you in your place. There's fear in that man's eyes the closer you get and he pulls away from you.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

You swat the rest of him away. “You’re doing it again.”

Eddie sighs in defeat.

"I know."

The fact that you didn’t have to elaborate is very telling. Eddie is not stupid. He knows the game he’s playing.

You watch with zero sympathy this time as Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He lifts a hand. You flinch. Then you relax again when you realize the man isn’t trying to hit you.

“I’m VERY aware of what I’m doing, Hargrove. Okay? That’s the worst part.”

“And you think it’s okay? You like stringing me along, is that it?”

“There’s MORE TO IT, alright?” he groans. “I just don’t know how to explain it to you just yet.”

Eddie starts up again.

“I…” he says, his haunted eyes sparkling. “I just. CAN’T. get. involved. with a coworker. Let alone someone who works under me. Think of all the legal issues that can rise up.”

Bullshit.

“That is a FUCKING LIE!” you scream. “A fucking LIE, Eddie and you know how I know that?”

He looks back over at you.

“It’s because you didn’t think twice about it when you were hooking up with Chrissy.”

You’ve had enough of his excuses. Startled, Eddie shies away from you, surprised that you knew of what he so desperately wanted to conceal.

“Who told you that?”

“Who else would know?”

“Everyone at Hellfire, basically,” Eddie laughs pettily. “I just hoped it wouldn’t get around to you.”

Frustrated, Eddie turns off his car. He tosses his keys onto the center console between you both.

“Chrissy and I happened like two or three times. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he asks you. “She was horny, I was horny. She never gave me the time of day in high school so I got all excited. One thing led to another. Thrill eventually wore off. Now she’s just one of my good friends.”

You cross your arms and glare out the window.

“But the reason I was soooo okay with the Chrissy thing is because I only saw her as a fling,” Eddie continues. “End of story.”

“Where exactly are you going with this?”

“The difference with you is that a part of me actually wanted this to go somewhere.”

Does he think you’re stupid? Surely Eddie can’t think you’re just going to fall for his words instead of his actions.

You scoff. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

You muster up the courage to look over at him again. And there he is, his big brown doe eyes glimmering under the full moon.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Hargrove,” he mumbles softly. “That shit’s terrifying. For the first time in an incredibly long time I feel like someone gets me.”

You attempt to look away again. Eddie cranes his neck over towards you to meet you where you’re at.

“Someone who gets what it’s like to have a shitty, absent father,” Eddie continues. “Someone who also had to learn how to navigate grief before getting a fucking learner’s permit.”

“You can stop,” you choke. “I get the picture.”

But Eddie continues.

“…Someone who also has to be the bread-winner of the family, not by choice, but by necessity. And someone whose now got a shit ton of trust issues cuz somebody else had to go and fuck ‘em up THAT badly.”

Your throat begins to burn. A soul cry marinates at the pit of your stomach.

"I'm so infatuated with you, Hargrove,” your boss insists. “Okay? You have no idea.”

You tsk.

“You’re infatuated with me,” it’s more of a statement than a question of yours. “Yet you push me away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, like you don’t have trouble accepting things you so rightfully deserve?”

He reaches over to grab your hand. You let him.

"There's nothing scarier than falling for someone who is your literal mirror," Eddie whispers. "Especially when you don't like anything about yourself."

“I know.”

You two fall silent and end up staring ahead for quite some time.

Both of you observe a couple cross the street together. The smitten pair are taking a stroll on the sidewalk, hand in hand and falling into one another like missing puzzle pieces. The guy kisses the girl's forehead, his silhouette reminding you so much of Steve.

“I also didn’t wanna get in between you and Harrington," Eddie mumbles.

“I told you we’re just fuck buddies.”

“But he really, really likes you.”

“Yeah, but if he’s not over Nancy, then what’s the point?”

It’s been a decade since Steve and Nancy broke up and he’s still lovesick over her. When you realized that she couldn’t ever be replaced, you stopped trying to pursue Steve romantically. Eddie falls mute again.

"I'm just his lil pocket pussy for all I know," you break the ice with a laugh.

"Don't say that," Eddie disapproves. "You are more than your body, Shy Girl."

“Then tell me what I am, Eddie,” the wounded part of you speaks. “Since I don’t seem to know.”

His gaze softens. “Well, it’s easy.”

You look at him.

"Corn ball alert,” Eddie prefaces. “But you’re the conversations you have with your regulars, asking them about their day and if they have any updates for you… You're the friendships you make with girls that you don't see a need to compete with. And you're that silly little dance you do when Argyle makes you food. And you’re also the destructive parts of yourself that you keep hiding from but little do you know that even those parts of you tell a story."

The sound of police sirens divert your attention. You shudder at the noise. Eddie seemingly makes note of it and clears his throat as a placeholder.

"…I didn't think you paid attention to any of that, Eds."

"I'm more observant than you think."

You believe him. After all, there are instances when you catch him sneaking a glance at you, turning away too late because you’re caught by his eyes to do the same.

A sigh escapes your body. You interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t know what... this… is,” you begin. “But all I know is that I really enjoy your company. And that I’ve had a crush on you since the day I met you. If it wasn't obvious already."

Eddie snorts. “Even when I was freaking out over kegs and ground chili?”

“Especially when you were freaking out over kegs and ground chili.”

And now forgiveness is in the air. Monkey see, monkey do, and soon both you and Eddie are grinning at each other from one side of your faces to the other.

“Please,” Eddie requests politely with a gulp. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“Yes.”

To your surprise, Eddie leaves a peck on your cheek out of all places. This fucker, still so polite. He doesn’t touch or graze anywhere else while he does.

“Thanks,” he says as he pulls away. “I guess.”

But you only want him closer now.

“Oh don’t be stupid,” you giggle grabbing his face with both your hands. “Just fucking kiss me.”

You rest your hands at his chin when you pull him closer. And with Eddie’s permission, you sink your lips onto his. His warm breath circles you as your lips attach to one another.

There’s no turning back now.

Eddie’s lips are as soft as a cloud, and they seem to know yours very well. When he’s latched on, Eddie synchronizes with your rhythm almost immediately, getting a few more kisses in before his tongue begs you for entrance. You deny him access and push him back.

“Oooh,” you taunt him, causing him to laugh. “Someone likes me.”

“Maybe,” Eddie blushes, cupping the side of your face with one of his rigid hands. He gives the back of your head an endearing little scratch.

“But you…can’t get involved huh?”

Eddie shakes his head, doing his very best to stand his ground. He’s back to staring at your lips. “No. Definitely can’t…get involved.”

Of course not.

“Not even if I do this?”

You swoop over to press down on the button of Eddie’s seat belt to unbuckle it. Click. He restrains himself, but there’s wonder in his eyes.

“Or this?”

Your hands travel to the side furthest from you as you lean to crank the lever, lowering the head of Eddie’s driver seat to a 30 degree angle.

Amused now, he furrows his brows together and rests his hands behind his head, manspreading as you play that agonizingly long game.

“You’re pushing it, Hargrove…”

Using his unavailable hands to your advantage, you climb over him and assert yourself on his lap. A low groan escapes Eddie’s nose. You make sure to strategically situate yourself right on his crotch. Eddie’s breath hitches, hand hovering over your birthmark as you sink those hips into him. He bucks his up in return, trying to keep up with you.

“What about this?”

“Oh, that’s not fair…”

His hands are back at your waist.

A protruding essence grows in size as you continue to ride Eddie’s thigh. Soft, low whimpers escape from his chest, his dark eyes now beseeching at his mercy. Eddie’s fingers curl, enclosing themselves tightly around the fabric of your baby tee. His available hand gnaws at the seat below him.

“I don’t like playing fair,” you whisper huskily. “I just like getting even.”

Both of yours eyes are glued to what you’re doing, where you’re grinding, and how.

“Why do you do this to me?” he whispers longingly.

“I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been edging me for quite some time, Munson,” you shrug angelically. “Now it’s my turn to give you a taste of—”

You squeal suddenly when Eddie’s hand flies to your throat. The grip he has on you tightens hastily, long before you can even process it.

Shock overpowers you as Eddie studies you eagerly, with flared nostrils and a hot chest. You peer down at him with glossy eyes and yearning lips.

“Back of the van,” Eddie orders. “Now.”

—————————————

tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon, @ali-r3n, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @bebe07011, @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00, @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

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author's note: i'd be lying if i told you guys i didn't play imaginary barbies in my head in order to map out the argument between eddie and shy girl dfsjklfdkgfgsg would you say I’m a puppet master?

[cafecourage]

That lack of requests is criminal. Don't mind me while I churn out a couple more. (this is actually helping with my brain-deadness so I'm gonna alternate between studying and dropping stuff in your inbox lol)

Hyrule with an s/o who is also good at magic (but can't heal worth a damn) and is able to give themselves fairy wings while maintaining full height. Like they can just become a hylian-sized fairy.

And maybe he finds out because he fell off a cliff and they saved him?

- Glitter ✨

Is is gonna be similar to another ask I got. But first some random Hc’s that I don’t think go together with the story I wrote but still is fun to think about.

- Hylians could gain the abilities to have magic through other means. Hyrule, himself, being an example of that. While I am all up for half fae Hyrule, but Changeling Hyrule, and Battle Mage Hyrule is also up there. Either way how ever you look at it, Reader and Hyrule are 100% covering each other’s backs.

- If Reader is bad with healing, I am going to assume they can do more specialized magic like defense up, shielding, etc. Not actually healing but it’s still something. I imagine that Reader and Hyrule are like a sword and shield combo, though who is who is ether or as you can shield the both of you and he can heal.

- Imagine if Hyrule was the one that taught you the fairy spell? You are just more adventurous with messing with it to change your height so it can stay the same. You guys just teach each other since you’re the only two that know how to even do magic in the first place. These are just some idea’s though. If Reader was half-fae they would probably already be able to do it and can teach him too.

When your mother, Great Fairy Mija, offered your help to the Champion on his latest adventure. You didn’t expect much to come from it, nor for Link to say yes in the first place but that was beside the point. Honestly it didn’t phase you to much that there was more Link’s in the group. If anything you had heard it before from other Great Fairies that a bunch of heroes have gotten together before. And you can assume it wont be the last time this was going to happen.

What you didn’t expect was how fast they clicked and adopted each other. Though living in a Fairy Fountain you were kinda used to quick adoptions, so it wasn’t a big deal just surprising.

You were a lot slower to integrate into the group as you weren’t a hero for courage so less predictable compared to all the Link’s. Which was fine as you knew the champion, now known as Wild, had the same issue with trusting people too.

So having eight more insane semi impulsive guys to befriend wasn’t too difficult. Especially when you did openly used magic to help them in battle though you made sure to get consent before hand. You heard the stories you heard what happened to some of them it is only fair. The Hero of Twilight and Legends you were especially careful around. Rather be safe than yelled at.

You quickly noticed that the traveler who was given the title of Hero of Hyrule, was similar to Wild. It felt easier to befriend him than anyone else. Which was fun. You, him and Wild typically tended to stay together as giving your home Era’s wandering was commonplace. Hyrule did tell you about his magic when healing was needed, “You’re half fae though.” The Vet pointed out as Hyrule took over bandaging the Captain. “Wouldn’t that be natural?”

The answer was actually longer than it needed to be but that wasn’t a story for now, “well. Yes, but no.” It was also convoluted to explain and honestly with the fight everyone just went through, again it was a story for another day. “The short of the answer is that I don’t have the ability to do it safely to others… or myself.” That only earned them a quizzical look but before the conversation could be continued it was side tracked. Which was good for you.

You would of explained once everyone was better and relatively settled as it was a weird and long explanation of Magic not really being something Hylians could do in the first place with out items. Of course there were acceptions, Princesses, Gifts from the Goddess, etc. You at least wanted to tell Hyrule what you knew as he seemed to get his magical abilities in an unnatural manner. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that it was on purpose for him to find these things but, the guy literally held on to the triforce for years before secretly giving back to the princesses to hide it away.

Monsters are still after him for his blood after all.

The horror you felt when you heard him whisper that can be still felt to this day. “Why?” You asked.

“Because, thats where it was.” He whispers softly as you two walked through the path around the canyon heading into hebra mountain. The idea was to find Zelda who was near the stables waiting. Honestly there was a voice in the back of your mind that was telling you to go see your Aunt who was by Rito Village but that was probably a week trek out on foot.

“Still that magic isn’t really information that would typically be spread.” You commented offhandedly as thats not how blood magic worked. You think. It’s not like you tried. Forbidden magic is forbidden for a reason. “But Monsters are Monsters I guess.” You shrugged looking to the side into the snow. The path to hebra wasn’t the safest as it was the hardest reason.

“Well it just did…” You looked back at Hyrule there is slight movement in the snow. Unfortunately you couldn't get out the words "Lizalfos!" Before everything was in disarray.

It was quick to lose yourself in battle, but you tried to keep your calm as you fight back. Making sure that those who need it get their buff. Typically stronger people get defensive buffs, those who work better with speed gets a tad boost for that. You look to your left where Hyrule was.

Only to see him get pushed back loosing his footing. That alone made you dash forward as you feared the worse. The worse being what happened.

Hyrule fell into the Tanagar Canyon.

Just to spite that monster you sent a lighting spell his way before diving off the Canyon after the Hero. You reached out to grab him as you focused on your own magic again. Transforming your form slightly to a more natural state for you. Wing's sprouting behind you as you slowly pull him in your arms. You didn't know if you were strong enough to fly the both of you up. However you aimed for a better landing as you turn up and a slow descent.

It wasn't a soft landing but nether of you were hurt. "Are you ok?" you asked setting Hyrule down as you had to hold him a bit strangely.

"Yeah... Just surprised." He said calming his heart, he looks up at you "thank you." His gaze shifts up to the Canyon wall. "How do you think we can get up?"

"Uhhh..... Magic?" You suggest as you look at him. "You have that fae spell right?"

Hyrule made a face like he really didnt want the other to know about it "yeah... I guess."

"I can carry you in that form! Don't worry."

"That's... some how worse."

[ironboyxs]

Let me take care of you

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word count: 912

p.s. this was a request from the lovely @megamonstermuffin, I'm sorry it took so long, I'm in a bit of a creative block, but I plan to write a lot next month! in fact, I want to post a list of which fandons I write for, so stay tuned. and always remembering REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

They were tired, but Y/N particularly was exhausted. Being an Avenger was definitely not an easy task, especially when you're not a super soldier with enormous stamina and strength greater than most people.

Y/N knew how to handle himself of course, Doctor Strange didn't take him in as his apprentice just because the boy was kind, he took him in because he was very skilled with magic. But magic can be tiring, and very tiring.

Y/N and James opened the door to their newly rented apartment, they had been living together for a month. And almost two years they were together as a couple.

Him and Bucky together was something no one predicted, not even themselves, but it was one of the best things that could have happened to both of them. Y/N was lonely, he had already learned to fend for himself on the streets of New York for some time when Stephen Strange found him, Bucky was a man out of his time, and the recent “loss” of his best friend, Steve Rogers, it made him feel even more out of place.

The two were people who didn't fit into society very well, but they found the perfect fit in each other.

"Are you okay magic boy?" - Bucky asked as soon as they arrived home.

"You know I hate that nickname" - Y/N said.

"But you're really magical" - Bucky said giving his boyfriend a kiss

Y/N liked that side of Bucky, the side of him that flirted with the boy, that was romantic, flirtatious and playful, Bucky didn't show that side to everyone.

'But seriously, you look very tired, I know today was difficult for all of us." - Bucky said again.

"Well, I may be magical but I don't have the physical resistance of a super soldier, my love."

"Come, I'll draw a bath and make our dinner."

"Bucky, there's no need, I know you're tired too".

Bucky looked seriously at his boyfriend and placed his hands on his face.

"Let me take care of you, please?"

"How can I resist those big blue eyes? Alright, let's go."

Y/N was still getting used to having someone take care of him, he had forgotten what that was like, he spent so much time taking care of himself that sometimes when people offered to help him, he felt like he was bothering them.

Bucky smiled as he looked at his boyfriend, recognizing Y/N's reluctance to accept help. He knew that his boyfriend was used to taking care of himself, but he also wanted to show that he was there to share the burden of the difficulties.

While preparing a relaxing bath, Bucky took out his phone and connected a device to the speaker, his playlist of relaxing music started playing. Soft music began to fill the apartment, creating a serene atmosphere. After a while Bucky called for his boyfriend.

"Y/N, I know it's hard to accept help sometimes, but you're not bothering me. I want to do this for you. Let me take care of you today." - He asked once again with his big, asking blue eyes.

Y/N sighed, feeling the warmth of Bucky's words. He allowed himself to accept that affectionate gesture, something that was still new to him, even after so long of the relationship.

The bath was prepared with scented salts, creating an aromatic cloud that hovered in the air. Bucky helped Y/N undress and gently led him into the hot water. He sat next to his boyfriend, gently massaging his shoulders as the water washed over them.

"Relax, my love. I'll take care of everything tonight" - Bucky said, kissing the back of his boyfriend's head.

There was another thing that Y/N couldn't get used to, in the best way possible. Whenever he felt Bucky's touches it was like he was being transported directly to paradise. His boyfriend's lips were perfect against his skin, and the mixed sensation of a flesh arm and a metal arm was incredible.

Y/N allowed himself to close his eyes, leaning against Bucky's chest. The soft music and gentle touches helped soothe his tired mind and body.

After the shower, Bucky prepared a comforting meal, something simple and delicious that they both loved. They sat at the table, sharing laughter and conversation, enjoying each other's company.

After dinner, Bucky took Y/N in his arms and carried him to the couch. He covered them with a soft blanket as they watched a movie, cuddling and exchanging subtle touches.

As the night came to an end, Y/N snuggled into Bucky's arms, feeling loved and cared for. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, silently thankful for having someone like Bucky by his side.

That night, Bucky took care of Y/N not just with gestures, but with all the love and affection he could offer, promising to be there for his beloved, no matter the circumstances.

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (42)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. I am back to writing! I am crying. You have no idea how terrible this past two weeks was for me. I felt so out of place not writing but for some reason I couldn't find it in me to get back to it. I had lost literally all passion for it. So much happened that really didn't put me in the right state of mind. But I got back to it and found my passion again! So here is the long awaited Hobi chapter! I'm so excited to hear your thoughts on this one.

Hoseok lived in the same region your grandparents had. It was nice to take in the beautiful sights you were so familiar with. However, watching as creatures and different kinds of magical beasts mingle about. The flora and fauna were much different to your own home–it seemed like everything flourished a lot more. 

Taehyung had told you about how witches and faeries lived out in nature because it made them feel connected. As you held onto his hand, you smiled softly as his fingers weaved between the bushes and trees that covered the path they were taking. Your eyes widened as the foliage seemed to bloom and follow along with his hands. 

“Hoseok!” Someone shouted, moving along the path as they came upon a large cottage. 

You smiled to yourself, finally seeing the kind of house you had assumed this world would have. However, it was still large. You were sure the inside looked spectacular. 

You let go of Hoseok’s hand, allowing him to embrace his mother and another woman who was crying. 

“Oh, my baby boy!” His mother smiled, looking over his shoulder to find you. “This must be your mate.” She exclaimed walking over to you to give you a hug. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

She turned around to her son, smiling as he was being bullied by the other woman. She had him in a chokehold, laughing when he tried to pull at her with the grass that was growing exponentially. 

“I came home when mom called to tell us that you finally came back.” She smiled, patting Hoseok on the back. 

“All thanks to (Y/N).” Hobi smiled, reaching out for your hand. 

“We owe you so much.” Hoseok’s mother smiled softly, dropping her hand onto your shoulder. 

“It was nothing.” You smiled bashfully. 

“Nonsense!” Hoseok’s sister exclaimed. “Please, allow me to give you something in return.” She reached out to hold your hands. “Not only did you bring my brother back but you also brought his coven home. I'm sure their families would give you something as well.” She told you softly. 

“I don't know—” You tried to tell her it was alright but she just gave you a smile. 

“Let me give you a reading.” She stopped you.

“A reading?” Your eyebrows furrowed, looking over at Hobi. 

“Jiwoo is a master at reading people.” He explained. “Witches clairsenses are a lot stronger than anyone else. We can predict futures, see the dead, see what haunts you. It's part of our abilities.” He told you. 

You grew interested, being reminded about how Taehyung had explained his abilities to you. He did tell you that you could find out what Hobi was capable of if you asked him. You assumed readings were part of the things witches could do that faeries couldn’t. 

“Taehyung can't do that then?” You questioned. 

“No.” Hobi answered. “Telepathy and mental manipulation is our thing. He can't do any of that.”

“Fairies have energy manipulation which is a very powerful thing.” Jiwoo told you. “However we have healing and can control the elements.”

You looked down to the grass, seeing that it had gone back to normal now that the siblings weren’t play fighting. You also remembered how the leaves and the trees followed after Hobi’s fingers as he passed them. You wondered what it was like to watch him play with fire or water. 

“That's so cool.” You breathed out. 

“Come.” Jiwoo quickly brought you into their home, the decor modernized as you guessed. “Sit!” She pushed you to sit at the dining table, moving a chair in front of you and taking your hands. “I already saw a lot the moment you walked in.”

You could feel something tingle at your fingertips, making you tilt your head. You suddenly felt something hovering over your shoulder. Hobi and his mother were standing behind Jiwoo, watching with curiosity. You wanted to turn your head and see what it was but Jiwoo stopped you before you could. 

“Oh.” You watched as Jiwoo’s eyebrows rose, making you glance up at Hobi. 

“I think the first thing I should say—you have a past with our world.” Jiwoo turned up to you. “Don't you?” She asked. 

“Yeah.” You sighed, thinking about your grandfather. “Apparently I do.”

Jiwoo nodded her head, smiling over your shoulder. “You have a protector too. They've been there since you were a little girl. Butterflies are what I see around you.” She explained, running her fingers along your palms just to get a sense of your energy. 

“Nabi.” Hobi spoke up. “It was a name you kept saying but didn't know where it came from.” 

“They're someone very important in your story. Both the past and this one.” Jiwoo nodded to herself, pausing as though she was listening to someone. “I'm positive they were the ones who led you to my brother and his coven.”

“You really think that?” You asked, eyes wide. 

“Of course.” Jiwoo hummed. 

You flinched just for a moment, hearing a childish giggle from behind you. Hobi and his family must have heard because they all looked over you, smiling softly. You turned around, frowning when you couldn’t find anything. It was clear that the Jung family could see things that you were not. 

“Now something I find extremely fascinating is the number 5.” You quickly furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what that would mean. 

“It keeps turning up–four and then two. They are different animals–different creatures.” This only served to make you more confused. If it was about the boys there was seven of them, not five. It made you worry, thinking something was going to happen. 

“I can't really tell what they are going to be but I know they have to do with the boys.” Jiwoo turned around, quickly pulling her brother to the table. “Hobi, come here.” She told him, making him place his hand over your own. 

“Ah!” Jiwoo gasped out, hands flying away from the two of you as though she had been burned. “I found it! Babies!” She jumped up, her face having elation as she turned to her mother.

“Babies?” You asked, still confused. You looked up at Hobi, watching as he seemed to have a frown on his face and looked beyond confused. 

Hobi was nowhere near as powerful when it came to his clairsense like his sister was. The most he knew was his mental abilities so watching how his sister made him take your hand brought things out of him. He saw the animals that seemed to scurry around. They were small things, indicating something childish and small. It was clear that Jiwoo knew exactly what they all meant by her screeching. 

“Eomma!” Jiwoo shouted. “Five grandbabies!”

“Five?” You whispered, wide eyed.

“Grandbabies?” Hoseok repeated. 

Hobi’s mother and sister took a moment to gush and talk about it–claiming that Hobi was going to be one of the babies' fathers. However you just kind of sat there with a wide eyed expression trying to go through the motions. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want children, it had more to do with the question Taehyung had asked you when you had visited his family. If you were to have their kids did that mean you were going to stay with them? Was that your answer without you even reaching it on your own?

Later that night, Hobi had taken you to his room–showing off everything he could. You smiled softly when he showed you his elemental manipulation. He created ice sculptures for you, made the wind blow through your hair, and had a flicker of fire crackling at his palms. It served to entertain you for a while, keeping your mind off what had happened with his mother. 

But after she came to bid you both a goodnight, you were left awestruck once more at the happy expression the woman had on her face. You couldn’t know how she must have felt–spending ten years without her son only to come back and hear that he had finally found his forever and was going to make a family of his own. 

It must have been something that one would think hard on–especially because the one who was meant to be the mate to seven men was human and not from their world. 

“Five children.” You brought up, laying on Hobi’s chest. “Oh god.” You chuckled quietly. 

“Wow, wow, wow.” Hoseok sat up, bringing you along with him so he could look at you properly. “You're okay. You're fine.” He tried to tell you. “Let's not think about it at the moment, yeah?” He said softly. 

“How can I not?” You sighed. “Jiwoo told yoru mom it was going to be her grandchildren.” You smiled lightly, memorizing Hobi’s face. “Does that mean I'm going to have a family with you?” You whispered to him.

“Not everything is set in stone.” Hobi’s shoulders dropped thinking it wasn’t something you wanted. “You can always change your future.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, pulling a hand up to his cheek. “What if I don't want to?” You whispered.

His eyes went wide, looking at you incredulously. “You want—to start a family with me? With us?” He gasped, lip trembling as he thought about it. 

“I don't think we're there yet but, staying with you all has been on my mind.” You laughed lightly.

“Who told you?” Hobi pouted, knowing it had been one of the boys who brought it up to you. 

“Taehyung.” You giggled. 

“Such a boy.” He rolled his eyes. 

Taking a glance over your face, he smiled softly, moving to rub a thumb across your cheek. “Hey, I love you with everything in me. You have done so much for all of us that it's hard not to love you.” 

“But we want you to know that even if we do love you, it's not our choice to make.” He added softly.

“I love you, Hoseok. I love you all so much I don't think I'd want to be away from you.” You leaned forward, breathing against his lips. 

“We have to save everyone first. And then we can talk about our coven.” Hoseok told you. 

He leaned down capturing your lips in a kiss. 

And so you smiled at him, knowing exactly what you wanted to do now that you had heard it from them all. You weren’t going to leave them. It would hurt too much. So you knew that deep down this was your story alongside them.

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @juju-2275922 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo,

[itsnevercasual]

Soldier, Poet, King

pairing: harry styles x fay!reader

summary: amidst a fay hunt in your village, you fled to a different town far away. a human town. wanting to keep your identity a secret, you allow the townspeople to name you angelina. you're doing fine in the town until a mysterious man appears for unknown reasons. harry. and you don't trust him one bit.

warnings: cursing, violence, a religion similar to christianity gets bashed (not actual christianity though), magic (duh), angst, slowburn, some triggering topics such as abuse, murder, and sa.

—

thankfully, harry didn’t have to wait long to spot angelina, or angel, again.

he was wandering around the square, looking at the different merchants, when he heard that silky smooth voice.

“in my old village, we had a story.”

“what story!” the children gathered around her cheered. she was sitting on the well, and harry almost worried that she’d fall back, into the well.

“it was a legend about three people.. and we had a little song for it, too.”

“sing the song, miss angelina!”

“sing it!”

she laughed, “if you wish.”

she stood up on the well and began dancing around.

“there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword,” she posed as if she was holding a sword. the children giggled.

harry came closer, still lingering in the shadows.

“he will tear your city down, oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. he will tear your city down. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord.”

the townspeople who gathered began clapping and stomping to cheer her on.

“there will come a poet whose weapon is his word,” she bent down to the children’s level. “he will slay you with his tongue,” she snapped her fingers in a kids face. he jumped and she laughed a silvery laugh. “oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. he will slay you with his tongue. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord.”

“there will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn,” she grabbed a book from someone and set it on her head, balancing it as she walked across the cobblestone platform of the well. “smeared with oil like david’s boy. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. smeared with oil like david’s boy. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. he will tear your city down. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh lai. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh lai, oh..”

and then everyone in the town shouted, “hey!”

everyone flooded out of the square and went back to their lives. their parents grabbed them and yanked them away, scowling.

angelina, however, smiled as she hopped off the well.

“the soldier, the poet, and the king,” someone commented behind her as she walked away.

she turned around to see who shocked her, and saw harry.

“you know it?”

not many human people do. it was a fay folktale from many years ago. it predicted exactly how their kind had grown scarce. the introduction of the new religion deemed them evil beings. people came to slaughter them, so as to cleanse the world of evil. the soldier. the poet was their supposed prophets who heard this all-powerful deity. the poet. their deity wore a crown of thorns. the king. the remaining fay villages still sang the song, because it could very well happen again. and they didn’t want to forget their ancestors.

“i do. it was very famous where i came from.”

she inhaled, before, “and where is that?”

“where is what?”

“where you’re from. you’ve got an accent.”

"so do you," he pointed out.

"mine is still of this country."

he hummed before answering, "overseas."

"overseas?" she gaped. she hadn't been aware there were lands overseas.

he nodded, "what about you?"

"a village. far, far away from here--"

"another world from yours," they said in unison. her head snapped to meet his gaze. he held a knowing smirk.

"how did you know i'd say that?"

"i've asked around about you."

she tensed, "why?"

"you confuse me. i'm curious."

"well, stop," she snapped before storming off.

—

she didn’t see much of harry for the next few weeks as the winds grew colder. winter solstice was approaching, and angelina very much wished she could go home for solstice.

until she got a letter from the postman.

nobody mailed her.

except…

“miss—“

she clocked the feeling of magic from this postman immediately.

“do not say my name here,” she quickly told him. she stared for a moment before recognizing him. alvaro. a fay from her village who would often find fays hiding in human towns to send them intel.

in this case, her.

“i apologize. but.. the people here do not know it. i figured it’d be safer this way.”

“right. of course. from.. the motherland.”

motherland.

her mother. that’s what they’d say so humans didn’t know they had family elsewhere.

“thank you.”

he nodded before leaving. she shut the door and went upstairs, to her rooms.

she grabbed a letter opener and broke the wax seal, making sure to preserve it. her mother had the most beautiful seals.

dearest —

she paused. someone could break into her house and read this. she skimmed the letter and made sure to block out her name anywhere it was said.

dearest —

i hope this letter finds you well. we have taken up residence in the olden lands. i couldn’t bear to not have my daughter home for solstice, —. so, i have made sure, and it is safe. please come home for solstice. i have figured out where you have taken residence in. a word of warning: be wary of those you do not know, and even more wary of those you do. it is the least expected who betray us. anyway, in order to find us, look inside your heart and find the river. follow it where your gut tells you. that is where we are.

please return by the second night before solstice celebrations. we are beginning festivities. please, do not bring friends unless fay. we cannot risk it.

love,

your mother.

she smiled. she could return home for solstice. and although the directions would’ve made no sense to anyone else, she knew exactly where her coven resided.

you see, solstice was a big deal for all fays. but fays were grouped in covens, who all worked and functioned differently. typically, most covens all had one general ability. her coven was different. her coven had all kinds of abilities. one thing that was the same for all fays, however, was that solstice was a celebration. decorations, festivals, presents, everything like that. and fays were their most powerful on solstice, so her coven had.. a ritual, of sorts. you weren’t allowed in on it until you were thirteen, so she’d only experienced one before she’d fled. she hadn’t celebrated with her coven since.

the ritual was one of gaining the power for the coven. the women would travel into the woods (the women went only because female fays tended to be stronger, and the ritual also required only women. men were allowed to watch, though. they simply couldn’t participate, and celebrate mother nature for getting through another season, and creating their kind.

in gratitude for their thanks, mother nature would give them power that they’d share with the coven.

fays were always powerful, but solstice was like a recharge. it wasn’t as if powers could fizzle out, but if a fay was either older or younger, their powers would need more refreshing.

solstice was in a month. and if they were living where she knew they had to be, it’d be a week journey, meaning she had three weeks to prepare. solstice was only one day, but festivities lasted a week—

suddenly, she had a gut feeling. see, fays had intuition. and with their coven, it was stronger than it was with any random stranger. she could sense if someone in her coven was in danger. and who it was that was in danger.

and she felt like alvaro was in danger.

she dropped the letter and ran down the stairs, and out the door of the flower shop.

she followed the pull of her magic, like a rope, until she was led into an alleyway. she hid and listened in.

“what is your business?”

“i was delivering mail! nothing else!”

“to whom?”

“i— i..”

“to me. unhand him, harry. now,” she demanded. she was right. harry was untrustworthy and dangerous.

and for some reason, harry did as she said. he removed the dagger at alvaro’s neck and pushed him away, towards angelina.

she grabbed him and pulled him behind her. she turned quickly to whisper, “go home. do not tell the others of this. i have it under control. now go.”

alvaro nodded and ran off. angelina composed herself and crossed her arms.

“is there a reason you were threatening him?”

“who sent you mail?” he fired back.

“my mother invited me home for the holidays,” she simply answered. it was a common enough occurrence.

“i didn’t take you as one to celebrate the forthcoming.”

that was the new religion’s holiday. a sad excuse for solstice. it wasn’t celebrated on solstice, but they celebrated similarly. trees and presents and festivities. only theirs lasted one day.

she shrugged, before there was a beat.

“walk with me,” he said. not a question, an order.

she sighed before following him as he walked. they began walking through town square in silence. it wasn’t too busy.

“you are a mystery,” he said.

“i don’t try to be.” a lie. she did.

“i want to know why you let everyone call you angelina.”

“a name is the definition of who a person is. if they think i’m angelina, then i’m angelina.”

“but that isn’t your birth name.”

he said it as if he already knew the answer, “no. it isn’t.”

“so it isn’t a true definition of who you are. your birth name is your definition.”

“i suppose you are right.”

after that, he dropped the subject. and began doing anything he could to make her laugh. and as she was laughing at him attempting to juggle some apples from a merchant booth, she heard a name behind her.

“angelina?” the voice was betrayed.

she tensed and turned around. aven was standing there, looking betrayed. of course, she did. she thought harry could be her suitor.

“what is wrong with you?” she asked before storming away.

“aven, wait!” she called, chasing after her.

aven stopped and whirled around. “you knew i liked him!”

“no! all i knew was that you said a man came into town and he was suitor age! i didn’t know! nothing is going on, we are only talking!”

“you’re such a liar, angelina. about everything! angelina isn’t even your name!”

even if it was true, that hurt. her lies weren’t hurting anyone. they were to protect herself.

“do not pull that aven, you know why i don’t tell people my name!”

aven had asked one day, and angelina answered.

“where i came from.. it got too dangerous. my family and i were trying to escape and i got lost. i didn’t want the people chasing us to find me.”

“no, i know the vague answer you gave me that answered nothing at all! talk to me when you’re ready to actually tell me your name.”

she stormed off, and angelina stood still, blinking away tears.

a hand grabbed her wrist and she jumped, ripping it off.

“it’s just me.”

harry.

as if that was any more comforting after he tried to slit alvaro’s throat.

she turned around. “i don’t want to see you again,” she said.

“what?”

“you just ruined the only friendship i had.”

this was irrational, she knew that. it wasn’t harry’s fault. it was hardly even her fault. but harry was dangerous and had too many questions. he was curious. and she knew he’d figure her secret out, and then she’d be dead.

“don’t do that, angel,” he warned.

“goodbye, harry,” she mumbled, turning and walking away. she was barely fifteen feet away, when he spoke again.

“i know you’re a fay.”

it was said like a threat. her blood ran cold, and she froze.

shit.

—

a/n: .. hey.. !!!!!

taglist: @boomitsallie1

[lizardaggro]

the pulse of death, prologue 1

alrighty guys, here it is! vampire!twst au!!! please don't make fun of the title i'm sensitive about it... in any case, you'll notice from the title that this is just part one of the prologue. that's because this sucker is gonna be long af, and you're just gonna have to deal.

genre: gn!reader, will include romance, fluff, and angst down the line tw: none so far. yay! wc:3133

Twas an ordinary day, much like any other. After arriving home from your daily responsibilities, more than ready to mindlessly read fanfiction on your phone. You collapsed onto bed, looking for something to occupy the time until you were ready to fall asleep. Insomnia was something that had plagued you off and on for years; it became much less of an issue once you became an adult and were able to set your own schedule, but still. It wasn’t like it was predictable when you’d be able to embrace the night at last, either, but you managed somehow.

If asked what time it was when you were finally graced with a deep slumber, you couldn’t say. Perhaps it gradually crept up on you, so that you didn’t have the chance to notice. You didn’t remember your dreams, you never did. At some wee hour of the morning, you were awoken by who knows what, a haze still clouding your mind. You couldn’t recall if you’d brushed your teeth or not before you knocked out, so you made your way to the bathroom. Neglecting to flip the light switch due to the soft glow of the nightlight you couldn’t sleep without, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

Much to your surprise, instead of your own reflection, you saw a rather odd face staring back at you. It didn’t have much color to it, quite literally, but there was a bright green mist floating around it. Okay. This was fine. You must still be dreaming. It was then that the mirror-face-thing began to speak. Its voice was deep and ominous, but for some odd reason, you didn’t feel frightened. This was only a dream after all, wasn’t it?

“Oh, lovely and noble flower of evil. Magic mirror, tell me, who is the fairest of them all?” it? intoned. “O, one who has been guided by the Mirror of Darkness. Take the hand reflected in the mirror, and never, ever let go.”

As if right on cue, a ghastly hand appeared in the mirror. But it didn’t stop there, reaching beyond the mirror’s bounds and extending toward your form. You shivered as you felt its cold touch. You faintly heard the sound of horses braying in the distance, and perhaps hooves on pavement. There wasn’t much of a chance to register what that could mean, though, as your consciousness began to fade.

When you awoke again, your memories of what had happened were blurry at best. Everything was dark, and the surface you were lying on was hard. Were you going insane, or were you stood upright somehow? Wanting to better understand your predicament, you lifted your arms to feel around you. You were quickly able to determine that you were in a box of some kind. Now that certainly wasn’t ominous at all.

You didn’t have to ponder your fate for long, though, as you heard a voice from somewhere outside. “Hngh, gotta find some clothes so I can fit in,” they mumbled, as if they didn’t expect anyone to hear. It was a slightly nasally sort of voice, almost inhuman in a way. “Stupid coffins won’t open.” Wait, coffins? “Fnyaa, take that! The Great Grim’s special fire blast!” the voice shouted.

The gears in your brain began to turn, processing what that could mean. You had your answer sooner than you would’ve liked, as your little box began to become uncomfortably hot. Too hot. The lid blew off with a little ‘pop,’ and you were able to see at last.

You were in a grand room, with a medieval sort of theme to its décor, and rather dim lighting. There were floating coffins all along the walls, and you quickly surmised that you must’ve been in one as well. Then you turned your attention to the person in front of you. At least, you had assumed it was a person, but it appeared you were mistaken.

“…a cat?” you let out without quite realizing. The creature who’d freed you from that box was indeed a cat, with gray fur, and rather curiously, blue flames licking at its ears. It had a pitchfork-shaped tip for a tail, and a gray-and-white striped scrap of cloth around its neck, reminiscent of a collar.

“Hnngh, the Great Grim is not a cat!” it said. Because of course, the cat could talk. Why not, you supposed, when you had no idea how you’d gotten here and there were objects blatantly defying gravity in the background. “Now, give me your clothes!” it? demanded. You weren’t sure of the cat’s gender; the voice sounded vaguely male-inclined, but one could never be sure.

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, stunned. What use would a not-cat have for human clothes? It was plain to see they wouldn’t fit, and you didn’t think your fashion sense was that revolutionary. Though the fabric did feel a bit different than you were used to, smoother and softer, as if it were made of silk or the like.

You took the opportunity to give yourself a once-over and gasped in shock. You were most certainly not wearing what you had fallen asleep in. You donned a black hooded robe, with golden embroidery and royal purple detailing. You patted yourself down; it seemed you still had your old clothes on underneath, but your pockets were empty, no phone to be found.

“You won’t hand them over? Then I’ll just have to take them from you!” Grim, you assumed that was its name, shouted as it began chasing you, spitting fire from its mouth. Of course, you did what any individual of sound mind would do, and ran for your life. You still didn’t know how you’d ended up here, and there was no way you were going to keel over and die without finding out.

You dashed through corridor after corridor, until you found yourself in a room that resembled a library. Except, naturally, a number of books were hovering in the air, as well as the lanterns that lit the room. In awe at the silent beauty of the ambience, you momentarily forgot your life-threatening situation and gazed around.

You were interrupted soon enough, because Grim was on a mission and had no manners. “You can’t escape the Great Grim! Now hand them over!” Your eyes widened; you had no plan to save yourself in this moment, nowhere to run to. You shut your eyes tight, expecting the pain of being burned to death. But it never came.

When you opened an eye to survey the situation, you saw something rather… questionable. Grim had been bound by a whip of some sort, and was squirming against their restraints. Sure, they’d inadvertently tried to kill you, and allegedly weren’t a cat, but wasn’t this some sort of animal cruelty? Were they even an animal if they breathed fire?

“Fnyaa, what is this?! Let me go!!” Grim demanded. You weren’t expecting it, but a reply came from who knows where. “Ah, ‘tis my Lash of Love!” a voice exclaimed rather flamboyantly. Soon the speaker stepped into view. They were a rather tall individual, adorned with a mask with a beak shape on it. Their voice did indeed match their appearance, which you could only describe as some sort of obnoxiously accessorized medieval cosplay. It went with the building, you supposed.

The person then turned to you. It felt like their piercing yellow eyes saw right through you. “You there, you really must learn to keep your familiar in check- hmm? How peculiar. Pray tell, just what is a human doing here?” they inquired, which only served to confuse you further. What was a familiar? Why would you being a human be odd?

“Um, sir? I don’t want to assume anything though… Well, I’m not sure what you mean exactly,” you began hesitantly, fidgeting with your hands behind your back. “I just woke up inside a coffin in this big room, and then Grim came and blew the lid off and started demanding I give them my clothes. Was I kidnapped. Is this a cult? Where is this? I’m so confused…”

“A cult?” The individual snorted, puffing out their chest. “Certainly not. You may address me as Sir Dire Crowley, and I am the headmaster of this prestigious institution, Night Raven College. I would assume that the ride from the Ebony Carriage had addled your brain, but I do not recall allowing the admission of a human. How odd… Perhaps it was the will of the Dark Mirror?” He mused to himself. You had no idea what any of that meant, other than that this place was a school that Crowley ran.

The man stared off into space, thinking, for a while. Then he seemed to have a little ‘aha!’ moment and began speaking again. You could only listen intently, hoping to glean any sort of information that might be relevant to your situation. “Well then. Since the Dark Mirror has willed it, we have no choice but to oblige. You will remain here at Night Raven College. Only time will tell what secrets your mortal form may be hiding. Ahh, aren’t I so generous?” he preened. You’d begun to have a rather positive impression of Crowley, aside from the whole ‘lash of love’ comment, but that was crashing and burning now.

You had so many questions, but Crowley clearly had his own agenda, and you doubted he’d answer any of them. He spun dramatically on his heel and gestured toward the exit, still dragging Grim behind him. “Come along now, the entrance ceremony has already begun. We wouldn’t want to miss your debut into vampire society, now would we?” The fuck? Did he just say vampire? As in the supernatural creatures people on the internet simped for like no other? This was turning out to be quite the adventure.

You got the impression he really didn’t care what you thought though, so you just shuffled along behind him, doing your best to calm your nerves. First order of business: make sure you weren’t actually dreaming. You slapped your hands to your cheeks, shoujo-anime style, and to your surprise as much as your disappointment, it hurt. You weren’t dreaming. Probably. Second, uh, what came second? Not dying, probably. Yes, that was important.

Sooner rather than later, as much as you dragged your feet, you arrived at your destination: the room you’d initially awoken in. Only this time, the floating coffins were empty, and the room was jam-packed with people. You took a moment to consider if this was some sort of elaborate prank, but then you remembered the terror you’d felt when running from Grim. The fire they’d spat out had been very much real.

Scanning over the crowd, several hooded figures, all wearing the same robes they were, stood out to them the most. It was a varied group in every way, and you could almost swear one of them had cat ears, like those cosplay accessories some people wore. Whatever, you weren’t judging. Crowley looked weirder, in your not-so-humble opinion. They were all on an elevated platform of some sort, likely indicating a position of authority. If this was really a school and not a cult, maybe they were the student council?

“Headmaster Crowley, where were you?” the shortest one of the bunch inquired. “We had to start the ceremony without you.” Oops. That was your fault, you supposed. It wasn’t like you could help it though, and technically Grim was to blame more than anyone. You just hoped no one would be too mad.

“Ah, yes, I had to take a bit of a detour. One of the new students had managed to escape their coffin, and their familiar went on a bit of a rampage,” Crowley explained, not looking the least bit apologetic. You could feel all the eyes in the room turn to you, and you pulled your hood down lower in response. You didn’t know how much of that vampire nonsense was true, but you really didn’t care to be sussed out as a human or an outsider.

“Very well,” the diminutive person replied. “As long as we can wrap things up now.” “Yes, of course, Mr. Riddle. Now then,” he turned to you, “Step in front of the Dark Mirror and say your name.” You weren’t too sure what this ‘dark mirror’ was, but quickly figured it to be the giant mirror in the middle of the room. Who would’ve guessed? Following instructions, you took your place in front of it and stared straight ahead.

There was a face in the mirror, surrounded by an eerie mist. It seemed vaguely familiar somehow, but you couldn’t quite place it. Even more so than Mr. Crow Man, it felt as if it knew something about yourself lost even to you. You stated your name, not wanting to be the center of all this attention any longer. What that was supposed to do you didn’t know, but the face hummed, as if it were thinking about something.

“This one is suited for no dormitory,” it stated at last. Ah, so the purpose of this strange ritual was to be some sort of rip-off Sorting Hat. Go figure. But what did it mean that you were rejected? “Their soul is clear and polished, not like the rest. And they possess no magic, not a drop.”

Well no fucking duh! Of course you weren’t going to suddenly develop magical powers just because you’d been kidnapped straight out of your bed! But you could hardly say that now. If these people really did have some sort of inhuman abilities, pissing them off was the last thing you wanted to do. It was better to keep your mouth shut and play along for now.

One could hear a pin drop in the room after the mirror’s declaration. It seems no one knew how to respond. Even Crowley appeared to be stumped; you’d assumed he expected you to have more to you than meets the eye, but you were one-hundred percent certain you were just an ordinary, human, college student.

“Ahaha,” Crowley’s nervous laughter cut through the silence like a knife. “Come now, child, we’ll discuss this matter further in my office.” With that, he grabbed you by the arm and began to unceremoniously drag you out of the room. Now you knew how Grim felt.

Speaking of Grim, it appeared they were finally tired of being dragged along. With a burst of bright blue flame, they broke through their restraints and began shouting fervently. “If that human doesn’t have any magic, then make me a student instead! The Great Grim will show you just how powerful he is!” he exclaimed, spitting fire all around the room.

Everything quickly devolved into chaos after that. You weren’t there to bear witness to it though, as someone gently took you by the arm and escorted you straight out of that mess. You were grateful, sure, but also very confused. You knew it wasn’t Crowley; that man likely couldn’t care less about your safety. Was it one of the students then?

Once safely in the outside corridor, you turned to verify the identity of your rescuer. He was a personable individual, that much was true. You were pretty sure he was too old to still be in school, but then again, people could start college whenever they chose. His hair was quite fascinating all on its own. It was mostly white, but where it parted off to one side, it was black, making for quite the contrast. That couldn’t be natural. He wasn’t wearing the same robes as everyone else either. That left you utterly confused as to who you were dealing with.

The man eyed you up and down, likely judging. “Hmm. I thought I’d caught the scent of a human on campus, but I didn’t think I’d be correct. Come with me, pup, and I’ll get you all straightened out.” That was it. No introduction, no explanation, nothing. But you went with him anyway. What choice did you have? At least he didn’t yank you like Crowley had.

The mystery man led you into what appeared to be an office of sorts, though there was some sort of giant metal pot in the center of the room. Because nothing could be normal here. He motioned for you to have a seat in one of the plush armchairs opposite the spacious desk. You obliged, more than happy to give your legs a rest after all that running.

Your savior took a seat at the desk, which you assumed was his. Perhaps he was a teacher here. That would make sense. He gazed at you for a moment, likely contemplating something. You returned his stare, not wanting to let your nerves show. You were well aware of your position here, and you were not about to make yourself any more vulnerable than you already were.

Finally, after a few tense moments, he began to speak. “I believe an introduction is in order. I am Divus Crewel, professor of alchemy here at Night Raven College. Since our dear headmaster has declined to do so, I will see to it that your needs are met while you remain here,” he explained. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but Crowley is utterly unreliable. As such, you should come to me whenever you have a problem, pup.”

You nodded along, shocked that someone was actually willing to help you instead of dragging you along or outright attacking you. You could get used to this. It would be good to have an ally here in this unfamiliar place. You wouldn’t completely bare your heart to the man, of course, but this was a start.

“Thank you, Professor Crewel. I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer a few questions for me, actually.” A few was a bit of an understatement, but you’d try to keep it to the essentials out of respect for his time. He gave the impression that he was a busy man.

“Go on, pup. I’m sure you have plenty of things to be curious about,” Crewel offered with a wave of his hand. You were grateful for his understanding. Crowley hadn’t exactly done a great job of explaining. That is to say, all you knew was that this was a school. “Um, first of all, what’s this about vampires?” Wow, way to get straight to the point. It had been your intention to ask more general questions about what was going to happen to you and if you could go home, but it just slipped out somehow. But as Crewel narrowed his eyes, you got a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that curiosity may have just killed the cat.

[probablyintensemuses]

INCOMING: A DESPERATE COLLEGE STUDENTS OATHBOUND PREDICTIONS!!!!

CC @mageofspace__ on IG

TRACY!! I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN THE MIDDLE OF WALMART! THE WHOLE GANG!! I’m so happy to see Valec, Alice, Will, & Mariah in the flesh like wtf! But while we are here, I want to talk about some of my Oathbound predictions…because I can. ❤️⚔️💙

P.S. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ LB OR BM I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT CONTINUE! Spoilers ahead!

• Okay first, I truly believe that Bree has had her squire and kingsmage all along, Nick and Sel. I mean just with the relationships between those three, there is no way it goes any other way.

also, Alice will wake from her coma and have somehow inherited powers from Will as she was LITERALLY breathing his aether signature in. Like I’m not 100% sure how that would work, but we’ve seen it in media before, take Monica Rambeau and Wanda’s hex for an example! Maybe that interaction with magic will awaken Alice's own unique magic too, or maybe it's closely related to Bree again how the Mesmer did too in LB.

Regardless, when she awakens I think bby girl will be given an even more important role in the finale of this series. Maybe like being Will's squire...

• it’s going to come out that not only is shadow daddy, IYKYK not spoiling for potential new readers who have no sense of self-preservation and are reading this anyways, is not only Sel's father but VALECHEZ’s! Like not only would that be pure comedy considering how they were at each other's NECKS in BM, but it makes sense as to why Sel was succumbing to his demonia so fast, faster than others, maybe because a little more demon than others…

•I think this new magic system that Tracy is cooking up is going to tap into Natasia and Faye’s relationship a bit more and even Sel and Bree’s.

I also think it’s going to be the solution to not only Sel’s demonia, but Bree’s bloodmark, and even abatement and all these fucking legendborn oaths. I mean think about the word OATH, practically meaning something one HAS to abide by. Vera took an oath of sorts with the blood mark “one daughter at a time for all time.” The legend born and their oath of service and all this, as I call it, greedy magic which shortens their life spans, the Merlins too! What if, just what if, Faye and Natasia found a way to combine both their forms of magic (root + aether + blood craft) and created something entirely new? Something so potent and powerful, defying these “oaths” or what you could call them, curses, to cure all these things…and what if since Bree is from Faye’s lineage, sel from Natasia, what if they can do it together too.

• I think we will learn more about the Morgaine. More on Nick….hmm. A lot of LB fans keep calling him boring, but with his mom's disappearance, and the fact that Tracy is too good of an author to simply leave his arc hanging, I don't trust it. Maybe he will even go rogue, I'm not too sure ATP, but don't sleep on Nick!

• Lastly for my final predictions…more like a pipe dream. I really, for the life of me, need Bree to pull a Wanda from episodes 8-9 of WandaVision with Shadow Daddy.

We know Bree is smart and clever, this ain’t new! So, I need her to take what she has learned from shadow daddy, and then pull a clean uno reverse, and get out of there! EXPEDITIOUSLY!

Then from there, I need her to find Sel and Nastia (preferably in some cute cabin in the woods, and Natasia needs to be a MILF) this revelation of Bree's survival prompts Natasia to discuss the above ^^^ She and Bree get to work! Sel is now cured and they can get these oaths removed!!! Once these oaths are removed, the REGENTS ARE TOAST, TOR TOO! Then we get to work on Camlann in book 4! Cuz that’s how tf Tracy does it! Period!!

THESE ARE JUST MY PREDICTIONS, NONE OF THESE ARE CANON!! All I have to say is I'm fucking so excited about this book and even though it's still two years out I'm trusting Tracy's expertise to bring us something DE-LI-CIOUS! Also is it too much to ask that if this is adapted for television to have it animated, we know how much Tracy loves and takes influence from anime... it's only fair, and I feel can make for a more accurate and dynamic visual medium.

That's all for now. PEACE.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.19

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: Blood

The gentle midday summer breeze over the training ground has intensified, almost to the point of becoming a storm. All the while, Cory and I stare at each other. Neither of us is willing to grant the other any form of superiority as it always has been between us. The others are still watching in tense silence. My back was turned towards most of the specialists, but I could still hear their murmurs, Congratulating Cory, but I didn't care. I stare at my sword deep in the ground. But suddenly, all I could see was blood pooling around it.

My hands shake. In the distance, I could hear the screams that, to this day, keep me awake at night and stop me from dreaming of a world without bloodshed, like all the other worlds protected by fairies. I have been weak in the past, and when I look down at my still-shaking hands, I seem to be still the same. Staring at my war-defined underarm that many had underestimated in the past, I could not feel the tingling current of faerie magic flowing through it. I never could. My childhood fairy mentor told my grandfather that it was possible that I would never reach my full potential. I was listening then. This knowledge shocked me as a child, but I was never the type to give up easily.

In the end, not only did I bested myself, but I also showed this mentor that his prediction was wrong. But at what cost?

I lift my head and can see the entire student body, but to me, they seem like corpses, just like everyone who has ever gathered around me. Carefully, I wrap my hand around my sword again. Out of nowhere, the shaking of my hands suddenly stopped. Instead of the fear and panic I had felt before, there was only clarity in my mind as soon as I grabbed the handle of my new weapon. 

My body knew what to do and how to do it. I don't even have to think about it anymore. But my opponent is Cory. He is one of the best, perhaps even the strongest, that ever existed, but I have to get him out of the hands of my scheming grandfather. He's just too big of a threat otherwise. Something has happened to him lately, and I can't lose such a valuable ally to him.

With a swift motion, I pull the sword from the ground, raise it, and point it toward Cory. His eyes are still wide open, and there are beads of sweat on his forehead. He is clearly nervous. I look at him with a grin. It almost feels like something is taking over me, but I am still in control. It's just a weird feeling.

As if automatically, I pull my sword closer to myself, the tip towards the sky, the sharp sides away from my body, the blunt part towards me. With the handle close to my body, I bow towards the blade respectfully and whisper a single word: “Nagilisk.”

Opening my eyes again, I raise my head back up and stare intently at Cory. The anger of a hundred thousand souls dwells in my eyes. He seems to think, at least judging by his wide, frightened eyes, that I wouldn't want to fight him. Perhaps the people around us who congratulate him prematurely because they think I'm an easy target have given him false hope.

After Corey realizes that I actually want to fight him, he quickly gets back into position and says the same word I had just uttered. A word or a name that probably no one here knows. But it's understandable. After all, the person behind the name was disgraced long ago and later sealed away.

With both hands on the hilt of my sword, which fits perfectly in my hands, I feel invincible. Even though it seems like a strong wind could break it into a million little pieces, I know it would rather cut through a world than break against anything.

Cory's anxious demeanor changed as soon as he assumed his position, a long sword in his right hand and a short one in his left. A double-bladed fighter. Both metal, like most of our people, he seems to always have them with him. The mightiest I've ever seen or heard of. When he was nine years old, he defeated the best in our world, a natural prodigy.

We both fill our weapons with Aura, a form of combat magic that Specialists once excelled at but are now devoid of. As I do this, I can feel something awakening within me, the very thing I have always tried to suppress. Even though I knew it could mean the end of hundreds, if not thousands, I still open myself to it.

I feel the bloodlust growing so strong that I know I can't hold it in for long. Hoping Corey would understand, I nod in his direction. Corey nods back almost immediately. Relieved that he actually seemed to understand, I let my aura flow out. When our auras collide, the pressure pushes away those too close to us.

Without warning, we both move. I could only imagine what it would look like from the outside, but one of my servants once told me: "You are faster than the wind!" But I can see Corey's swords moving at their usual speed. They are precise and look like an X, but the swords do not touch. As I quickly draw nearer to him, I see he is ready to attack. To any other person, his movements would have been unpredictable. But luckily, I'm not a normal person. 

Once I'm close enough to see myself in his metal blades, I use my agility to move right under them and come up behind them on his right side. I get so close, in fact, to Corey that I could give him a little peck on his right cheek, and simultaneously, I hit his body with my blade.

But because of our speed, we pass each other in no time. We stop where the other had started. I stand there and wait, knowing he didn't hit me, and I know he would fall any second. At least, that's what I hope. But as one second passed into the next, I grow uneasy. Did I really hit him? My gaze was still fixed on the ground, as is the custom. With my eyes closed, all I could do was wait.

Suddenly, there is the sound of something dripping, then the clink of metal on the floor, and finally, a knee hitting the floor. As soon as I hear that, I lift my head and slam my sword back into the ground. I don't even acknowledge the blood dripping from my blade.

Dust is still in the air. Not even I can see anything. So I use the moment to straighten myself out and face where I know my childhood friend's older brother should be. As I focus on the magic raging within me, my underdeveloped fairy part. My hands quickly begin to glow brown. Within a few moments, the dust falls off and reunites with the stone we are standing on.

Even from behind, I can see the gash across his torso and the blood running down his handsome, rectangle-shaped face.

The whole ground is silent. If a pen had been dropped, there would have been a loud echo. It gives me great joy because I already know that Corey is the best in his entire year. The fact that a freshman beats him so easily can only be cheating, right? If they attempt to pursue this path, they will swiftly discover it leads nowhere. It is impossible to cheat in a sacred duel where both parties are forced to fight with all their might.

Since no one is moving or even seeming to think about helping Corey, I know I have to do it myself. I move towards my opponent with relaxed steps and step behind him. Carefully, I place both hands on his broad shoulders. I slowly move my head closer to his.

“Does it hurt?” I ask him as soon as my head is right next to his.

“Very much, Your Majesty,” he replied solemnly and calmly, obviously hating that he had lost to me.

Chuckling to myself, I dig my hands a little tighter into his shoulders. “Remember this,” I tell him, just as quietly. “And never forget the oath you just swore with him. At least my life is protected from a real threat.”

Corey's head snaps towards me, a questioning look in his eyes, but I put my index finger over my mouth, signing him to be quiet. I can see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows nervously. So I give him a wink. I straighten my back, remove my hands from his shoulders, and finally walk around him. I can feel all eyes on me, likely horrified by the brutality of the ritual. But we usually have at least two healers to ensure no one dies.

I kneel in front of Corey. His eyes follow my every move. Carefully, I touch his upper armor, which suddenly disappears at the touch. He doesn't even acknowledge it. But it breaks the silence a bit as many girls start whispering about his broad, muscular back. To be honest, I'd rave over his back, too, but I'd also do the same for his muscular, toned chest, even if I would never say it out loud. After all, he is my best friend's older brother. Luckily, I still had to scan his torso to make sure I only caused that one wound.

But this one wound is already bad enough: A large gush, deep and bleeding profusely. I could even see that some muscles and nerves had been cleanly severed. Glancing back at my sword, I'm more than surprised at its sharpness, as it looks like it couldn't even cut paper but sliced through Corey's body like butter. I feel my lips want to curl into a smile, but somehow, I manage to hold it back. But even though I try my best to suppress it, the joy of my victory ultimately overwhelms me.

“You still enjoy the misery of others. How delightful.”

With the same smile finally spreading across my lips, I gaze back at him. His face contorted in pain and perhaps disappointment. I'm not entirely sure. As I stare at him, smiling from ear to ear, which feels unnatural. 

"If I were you, I would weigh my words carefully,“ I tell him quietly. “I have more than enough reasons to cut off your head.” Corey looks at me with eyes filled with shock, but he really shouldn’t. “Do you remember earlier when I defended you against the other guy? I know full well that you have dragged my name through the mud, and even though we are somewhat friends if someone heard this and knew about my status, I would have no choice but to kill you.”

Only after finishing speaking do I notice the pressure I'm radiating. One born of pure bloodlust. Something I won in the long battles on the battlefield. As I remember my time in the war, I suddenly feel something strange on my hands. Looking down at them, I notice that they have moved of their own accord closer to Corey's open wound. As they dig up and down through the inside of the wound, enjoying the feeling of cleanly cut flesh and thick blood, I know if others see it, they would think even less of me.

I, honestly, didn't even realize I had started grinning darkly until I could hear someone whisper about it. Shortly afterward, I take my hand out of the wound and smile apologetically at Corey. The whole time, he stares at me as if I'm some kind of dark creature.

Hoping to hide my disgusting habit so that it looks like I'm just trying to help him, I place both hands on his wound, albeit unnecessarily, and cast a spell to heal his wound. “Prokstoya,” I whisper quietly. Under my hands, a thin layer of stone appears over Corey's wound, closing it. But it's not big enough. “Ulersinka,” I add to the spell. The stony patch slowly grows until the entire wound is closed. But as soon as Corey moved just a little, it was already starting to break. “Reikla,” I continue to add. The stone plaster hardens, but in the places where it already has cracks, the stone is too unstable.

“Prokstoya Ulersinka Reikla,” I chant a few times to ensure the stone plaster reappears, regrows, and hardens. But I ensure it's quiet enough that only Corey and I can hear it. Because this language is neither that of the fairies nor any other species known here. Only my family and those close to us know about it. In the beginning, more people were aware of it, but when the person who taught it became the enemy of everyone, even we had to hide it, and eventually, most people forgot it.

Luckily, it looks like a guardian fairy's magic. The spell is just at a much higher level than I should be able to use, which I could feel as soon as I look into Corey's eyes. Suddenly, my head starts spinning, and I almost pass out. I've never kissed the ground, though. As I look around, disoriented, I only see Corey, and for the first time, I'm grateful for his quick reflexes.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“Is your body still fighting your fairy magic?” Corey tries to inquire. "I still remember the day you were supposed to cast a rock into the air, and instead, you broke your teacher's ankle because your fairy magic went wild and pulled a rock out of the ground."

As Corey speaks, I feel a blush spreading across my cheeks. This is neither the place nor the time to reminisce! Especially since he has already sworn loyalty to my senile old grandfather! So, instead of paying more attention to him, I turn to Saladin and the mistress of the Alfea Academy.

“Is that enough to show you my magic?” I ask them in a salty tone.

Judging by the silence of all the students or their astonished looks, I can assume that no one seems to doubt that I am who I said I was. But not for the headmistress. I don't know if she could see through the magic or if she just didn't want to admit that she'd made a terrible mistake, but she's not convinced, as can be seen from her contorted face.

I can't believe this woman! And yet, I can. Somehow, I knew deep down that it wouldn't be that easy. Still, it should have been enough, even if she saw that the magic I just used wasn't pure fairy magic.

“You're going to have a mock fight,” the old mistress suddenly says.

“Tomorrow, right?” I ask back. But her look was stern and gave me an answer I didn't want to get. “You can’t be serious!” I added, annoyed.

“If we don’t sort this out today, we can’t move forward.”

I feel anger rising in my stomach hearing her words. I ball my hands into fists, trying desperately to keep my anger to myself and not explode in this woman's face. I can't wait for her plan to blow up.

“Okay,” I murmur through gritted teeth. I stand back up and tower over the woman. "Who will I fight?" I want to ask so much more, but I could barely contain myself. Right now, all I like to see is her arrogant face fall as everyone realizes what a mistake they made.

“Stella!“

I look around, confused. I don't see anyone stepping forward. But when I suddenly feel pressure being put on me, I start to fear for my life. As I turn in that direction, I see the same golden-haired girl I saw on my first day in Alfea. I can feel something powerful slumbering within her. She's old enough to know about it. But does she know it? Does she know about me then? I can feel it inside her from meters away, so she must feel it, too, right? But when I look at her, she seems more dissatisfied than angry. She shows no discomfort with the power within me, which is unnatural. So she hasn't awakened yet?

“Yes, Miss Faragonda?” she asks in a dismissive, almost rude tone. This causes resentment among the crowd, as many call her disrespectful. Somehow, it feels so strange that I can't help but laugh. Stella's gaze immediately jumps to me, even more dissatisfied than before.

“We'll talk about this later, young lady!” The headmistress threatens Stella, which actually makes her quiver under the older woman's watchful eyes. "You will fight this young man. Don't worry. Neither of you will be able to seriously injure the other."

Even though she obviously doesn't want to be there or have anything to do with this situation, she still nods in agreement. She comes towards me, and even though I'm taller than her, she looks down on me, or at least makes me feel like she is. There are no greetings or anything like that. What a bitch.

[Masterlist]

[vomitspit2]

BACK TO CHEST (SOUL TO SOUL) END NOTES

RAAAAGH I WANTED TO WRITE THIS SINCE 2023 LETS FUCKING GO! ( ノ ^o^)ノ

I'm sick as a dog so I decided to post this ten days earlier lol

Jade in his Wuthering Heights era but also not,, I really wanted to include Jade screaming out "Oh God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

Beyond words, I hope the audience could not predict the ending. I like unpredictable shit — I’m a fan of it in the movies I watch — so I wanted the reader to be concern: is Jade going to ask Malleus to keep him under a spell of sleep, is there’s going to be a resurrection, was Jade going to overblot, or some secret fourth option?

Not the original premise because the original premise was ALWAYS resurrection done by Malleus, but with the saprophytic mushrooms, the thoughts were to feed parts of the Reader’s corpse into mushrooms which Jade would find a way to convert fungal matter into new lungs, new epidermis, new eyes. Life with a stomach of death. Obviously not a powerful enough mage to do this, dream Reader convinced him to go to Malleus for help.

Reader’s school ‘uniform’ is based off what Thom Yorke (singer of Radiohead) wore in the music video 'Just' — just really liked the look of it and thought huh why not (-｡-;

Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares is a real book; no, it doesn’t have the spell for necromancy in it

Floyd’s shirt is a real shirt; you can get it at Zumiez

“OMG, this reader writes poetry so it must be the closest we’re getting to a self-insert” NO! I HATE FUCKING POETRY, trust me I’ll tell u when i write a reader where I’m like:

:I’ll be tell you guys that it’s my bonafide, indulgent self-insert

Originally, in the memory of Malleus and Reader sitting by the gargoyle, the Reader was suppose to confide in Malleus of their fear of magic as they had been hurt by it before on many occasions, but this would contradict it being a sweet memory. I'd be a weak writer if I included something that foreshadowed their doom -- "I know you would never hurt me Malleus" or "I trust you greatly" — that moment absolutely could not be bittersweet.

Eventually, I would like to write a Reader who has a fear of the magic around them — just to test what that dynamic might be like in Twisted Wonderland.

I’ll give credit where credit is due: the act of syncing up breathes together, skinship or back-to-chest, was siphoned from M Night’s movie Signs (my absolute favorite from M Night)

I don’t think Jade would ever want to be separated from Floyd or vice versa which is why Jade brings the reader back to life. Sorry to the people who were thinking they would get the angst of staying trapped in a dream </3, it’s good angst but unrealistic for Jade as a character.

The Leech family dynamic has be in tears always,, they’re the most brothers to ever brother

This is a oneshot people can totally return to on Halloween bc knowing me I won't have something prepared that day (⋟﹏⋞) ....... unless Harley Poe themed Floyd oneshot hmmmmm

This oneshot has so many theme songs it’s actually insane but: Voltaire’s WAKE UP; Flyleaf’s AGAIN; whatsaheart’s THE STARS COLLIDE