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cialovesklopp · 11 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 -> k. mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — where a destructive article leads to several insecurities but also an evening of love and the creation of new songs

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — this chapter contains misogyny, mentions of cheating false accusations and anxiety/panic attacks

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 7.8k

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — this love [taylor swift], romantic [korede bello], delicate [taylor swift], sexual healing [marvin gaye]

masterlist

life hated her. it was clear that it had some sort of grudge against her, that she had wronged someone because no one who was innocent deserved this — not even on her worst enemies would she wish this sort of punishment and yet it happened to her.

she didn’t know what made it so hard — where had she gone wrong so terribly? taken the wrong turn that had led to her driving into a hole?

a feeling of failure welled up inside her. anything she touched got ruined, red roses turned black by the instant she touched them. why did he hate her so much?

she would never know. she had never given him a reason to hate her. Even if one day they would break up, she would have never resented him. sure their relationship has their ups and downs with lots of on and off but she had never expected him to hold such a grudge against her.

it should have been her, she should be the one to be mad, angry, it was her right to play the scorned woman after he had cheated on her. but instead solitude and secrecy had become her best friends, forced to lay low while he could spread whatever lies lies he wanted, only futhering the damage.

he always knew how to hurt her the most, didn’t he? during the timeline of their relationship it had always been him to hurt her the most, to know exactly around which scars he had to draw stars to extend the pain.

she had gone through eating disorders for him, endured discriminating comments about herself, gave away the love she had for herself — all for him.

usually karma was for the people who had wronged persons, had done them bad but what had she done? it should have been his reputation not hers, the stupid game they had started playing should have ended with her winning and not with her hiding in a city. he always won.

he won at games they played, at arguments, at races they had done together — he had won at everything against her. and she, as stupid as she been, had let him. she had let him win at everything.

clearly, she had been in a bad mental state. because there were signs, signals that she was suffering. but no one picked them up, no one paid attention and she had ruined any relationship she had had with any true friends due, having pushed them away at the request of evan. now she found herself with nothing.

so all in all, she truly regretted him. all the feelings, tears and time she had spent on him had clearly been a waste. qui lui avait mémé dit, de poursuivre un homme qui avais déjà une femme? — who had even told her to go after a man who already had a woman?

whenever she self-reflected she always asked herself the same question. but then again, she wouldn’t have met kylian if it hadn’t been for all this.

the international french striker had somehow opened a world for her that evan had closed. love was about creating and he had created a world full of colors for her after evan had squeezed all the color out of hers. it meant picking up the pieces no matter how small they were because the person was worth it. she was worth it.

kylian had decided that when he had first met her. he had been bored out of his mind, that specific night, before his eyes had spotted her. he had only seen her from the back, but had immediately been intrigued by her. especially because the bartender was serving her drink after drink, which had instantly impressed him. he could count on one hand, the amount of women, he knew that were able to drink like that. needless to say, he had an invisible pull towards her.

and getting to know her had also been a complete blast. after getting over the fact that he was flirting with his celebrity crush (something he hadn’t told anyone about), he was immediately wooed by her, especially her sarcasm and smiley attidue. sure, at the moment it didn’t come out much but when it did, kylian often felt himself fall all over for her again because it was the most beautiful thing on her. he didn’t understand how the medias could write such things about such a lovely person and still wondered how this asshole was able to date such a stunning woman like her. (he was ready to offer his whole contract if someone gave him the answer to his question.)

evan had the upper-hand in her tricky situation and the article made it clear. still, her flop at relationships couldn’t have been that bad, since evan had been the only person she had ever dated. and she certainly wasn’t a narcissistic person. he loved to spin her words around.

amara was the furthest thing from a narcissist. and she had never cheated in her entire life. not even on a basic school test and certainly not on a person. so of course it hurt her when several articles were thrown around, where her ex-boyfriend stated that she had cheated on him in the beginning.

the thing that upset her the most was the way he spun the story. he could have said what he wanted to keep the public on his side. but twisting the whole narrative and telling the public, she didn’t care much about mental health was too far. especially because she still remembered the way he would laugh at her whenever she would have a panic attack. and for him to say now, she always joked about it.

he had never even know how a panic attack felt like — he wouldn’t know the way it crept up slowly. like a tumor that had nested in. it built up slowly without any remarking, but slowly the symptoms were starting to get recognizable. that was anxiety. (something evan had probably never felt and why would he?)

as she read the article, angst started building up and like a maline tumor it spread through her body, leaving her brain for last. the further she read, the further it nestled in. when she had arrived at the end of the article, her hands were trembling and sweat pearls rolled down her forehead. she clutched her phone tightly, dizziness setting in with her vision blurring.

cause was the article that was opened on the display of her phone, the significance of the end of her career, everything she had worked so hard for — vanished with the simple publishing of a few words. her sweat, blood and tears were, all for nothing. the words were mocking her, giving power to the anxiety that had built up in her body. like a bomb and the detonator had just been lit. a wave of panic rushed down, this time anxiety had reached her head.

amara was drifting in a sea of despair and hopelessness, the weight on her shoulders becoming too much for her to bear. all the work, kylian had done was gone — the positive words were replaced by negativity and uncertainty, taking over her rational side.

breathing suddenly became harder, staying awake became difficult. it started in her chest, the first thing that stopped moving, the ache spreading through her body. next it were her legs that disconnected from her mind. she didn’t even acknowledge her body losing stability and collapsing on the ground — her body was there but her mind wasn’t.

before she even realized, amara was grasping for air, her lungs completely cut off from oxygen. her heartbeat raced dangerously, as if activating its survival mode when in case of shortness of breath.

her hands tingled but she wasn’t able to shake them, make it stop. all she could focus on was her career dying, herself dying with it. in a second, amara wasn’t in her room anymore; instead she found herself under water with no air.

the heavy knot in her neck thickened as tears ran down her cheeks. she fought the urge to throw up and tried to keep her food down but the thought of being worthless, of having lost everything was making it hard.

the ringing in her ear became louder, her vision becoming more and more blurrier with the tears. she let go of her phone and put her hand palms on her ears, trying to stop the ringing while also making an effort to breathe but it was getting harder… so much harder for her.

hyperventilating, she pulled her knees into her chest, hugging them tighter even though her hands were shaking violently. she knew what she must have been looking like at the moment, weak, a liability, insecure — but that’s what she was.

she had nothing anymore. the article was just the physical proof of what everybody thought, that she had wasted years of her life trying to become someone she would never be.

was this the moment where whitney houston had decided to drink away her sorrows? the changing moment that had ripped all hope from her? truthfully she wasn’t crying over love, she wasn’t heartbroken but she had poured everything into her career. made sure that it would be her legacy if she ever left and it was all gone now. all gone.

her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of her door, her body going immediately into its “danger” mode. her body, in its disconnected mode, picked up that it was kylian but it didn’t register what he was saying — it was too busy trying to breathe.

amara didn’t notice how he dropped everything and rushed to her side, immediately understanding her state. her mind didn’t acknowledge how he grabbed her hands softly and sat down next to her on the floor. but she started to feel his presence, his warmth.

“heyy…,” he whispered softly but got no response from amara. she looked up at him but it was clear that her mind was everywhere but here. “ca va aller, je suis la.” — it’s going to be okay, i’m here

kylian’s eyes scanned around the hallway till they found amara’s phone with the article still showing on her screen. he wasn’t new to it, he had heard of it this morning when neymar had spoken about it at training and it had taken kylian every of his willpower to continue doing his exercises instead of defending amara like he would have wanted. he had wanted to warn amara but seeing in which state she currently was, it appeared she had been quicker than him.

“okay, mara,” kylian began a nervous undertone in his voice that he tried to hide, “i’m not the best at this but i’ve seen people do it on tv… so hope it works for now — anyway tell me five things you can see?”

she didn’t answer but her eyes were focused on kylian now, meaning she was slowly coming back even though her chest was still moving rapidly. “come on mara, essaie-le pour moi.” — try it for me

her hands affirmed the grip around his, her taking all her will as she tried to speak, “your bag, the magazine… phone, the floor, … your jacket.”

“c’est deja bien ca, on continue,” kylian praised her, “now tell me four things you can touch.” — that’s already good

she nodded, her heartbeat starting to become more frequently, “your hands… the floor, your face and… my phone.”

“okay, it’s actually working,” kylian said but more to himself than to amara, surprised to see that the method he had watched so often actually worked. “three things you can hear?”

“your voice, the traffic,… music from the radio in the kitchen.” she replied, her voice not as shaky anymore. her hands had stopped shaking and the dizziness had faded away.

“maintenant, dit moi… two things you can smell.” he told her reassuringly. — now tell me

“you and… cinnamon from the candle.” she told him hesitantly although her voice had steadied and sweat pearls had stopped rolling down her forehead. Her tears had subsided too but her eyes were still watery.

kylian clapped her hands together, happy for the progress she had made. “see, you’re already doing great. one thing you can taste?”

amara nodded… “my tears, they're kind of salty.”

“And now take small breaths” kylian instructed and amara followed his orders, gripping his hand tighter when she struggled but it helped — minutes passed and her heartbeat became steady again, her body leaving the panic mode again.

“it’s going to be fine mara,” kylian told her softly, his voice coming out faintly but it was loud enough for amara. his presence was calming in the middle of her storm, the hurricane she had seen coming from miles but had chosen to ignore it and live in the ignoring bliss with kylian.

he put his arms around her, hugging her tightly with his arms forming a protective shield around her. the gesture was all it took for amara to break. a crack in the surface and suddenly all liquid started flowing. tears she had thought she had all cried already were rolling down her cheeks rapidly, breaking free in torrents. her sobs shaked her whole body with an intensity she could no longer contain.

kylian was caught by surprise about the intensity of amara’s sobs and cries. tears were rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably, and it didn’t seem to end any time soon. he held her closer, her face burying into his shirt, embracing her weak and fragile state. his heart broke with every sob that amara let out. every tear carried her pain, made it clear that she was hurting.

her body screamed sadness, grief — it was in deep mourning, mourning over her career she had just lost, watched go down the drain. he absorbed her pain, her sufferance, letting her cry it all out. no words he could tell her now would be able to take away that kind of hurting. he was letting her be, mourn the way she should have been the first time instead of trying to hold it all in. his arms had become a sanctuary, safety amara had so often kylian described with — a refuge that let amara express all her grief and take off all the weight on her shoulders.

somehow he felt failure — as if he had failed her. kylian had promised to protect her, make her eyes brighter again and he had thought he had been enough. but their bubble had been burst and both had clashed hard with reality

his grip around her body tightened as he held her firmly, pressing her softly against his chest. His shirt was wet, filled with her tears, and her pain that she had let out in the form of water. the room filled with the sound of amara’s anguish, her cries echoing against the walls.in that moment, time seemed to stand still. he held her close, his arms put up tightly around her like a shield from all the negative thoughts.

“ca va aller cherié,” he whispered along with soothing words, acting like a balm to her wounded soul, and most importantly giving her the safety that she was not alone; that she didn’t have to go through the pain alone. — it’s going to be okay, honey

each second that passed, her sobs started to subside, their intensity getting less and less. soon they were replaced by sad sniffles and hiccups, as she clung to kylian’s chest, finding solace in his presence. there was a sense of comfort in his heartbeat, he radiated life with the rhythm of his heartbeat. the world around them seemed to fade away.

the storm in her had settled and amara slowly started to gather the strength she needed to lift her head from kylian’s chest. she was exhausted and felt even more vulnerable after having a panic attack in front of the french striker. she never wanted for him to see her like that — weak, vulnerable, desperate.

“i ruined your shirt,” amara said quietly, wiping away her tears. “i’m sorry, it’s all wet now because of my tears.”

“it’s a shirt mara, i planned on changing it anyway because of training. don’t apologize for things like that again, you don’t have to.” kylian objected, scolding her lightly. “how do you feel?”

“stupid, weak, empty.” she listed quietly under her breath. “like it was all for nothing.”

“don’t say that. you're worth more than just your career.”

“i was never enough, always too low.”

“you were always enough,” he replied firmly.

she sat up straight again, leaning her back against the wall next to and taking place next to kylian. there was no other way now, she had to do it. her mother had always said, when you love someone you have to be able to let go. it was her time to let kylian go — she wouldn’t drag kylian down with her. this path was destined for her and not him.

her eyes filled with tears, as she turned to look at him. her heart was heavy with emotions. her reputation, tarnished by a turbulent past, had the potential to cast a shadow over their relationship. to hurt him just because he held love for her. and she would never do that to him. amara had started to love him, to feel more for him than a simple crush. time had given that to her and she couldn’t bear to taint him like she tainted everything that she touched.

her voice was shaky, tears had started to run down her face again as she looked at him, met his eyes. “kylian, i think it’s better if we don’t go further than this. you deserve so much more than me.” she swallowed the big lump in her throat before continuing to speak, “my reputation has never been worse and my past should not hold you back from living your best life.”

his eyes widened with surprise, behind them laid concern. “amara, please don’t say that. i promised you that i would stay by your side, through good and bad. i’m not going go leave now. you don’t have to worry about me.”

she sighed, lowering her head, not being able to face the hurt expression on kylian’s face. his unwavering love and devotion was clear in his eyes — they were an open book to all the emotions he was feeling. he wouldn’t understand, his life was different than hers. “ky…,” she began, his name coming out faintly. “i’ve made some mistakes, trusted some people i shouldn’t have and karma is getting to me, i guess. but i would never forgive myself if i dragged you into my mess. it’s better that way.”

he shook his head, feeling tears come up but swallowed them down — he knew this wasn’t her, what she truly wanted. he just had to find that part of her again. the one that was willing to love again and open herself to the world.

“amara, i know who you are. and i love who you are. and i don’t care whether you are a bitch apparently or if you are a narcissist — all that matters to me is the person i got to know these past weeks. i love all of you, including the parts that you may deem as flawed."

his hand searched for hers, squeezing it lightly to show her his support, the safety that lied in their bond.

“amara,” kylian whispered, his eyes scanning her soul the moment she looked up, staring right back at him. through her soul. “i know you think the worst of yourself,” he began, his voice a light tone. “i know you need someone to hold you… hold you like you are the most important thing in the world, and i will. i promise you i will. but you need to let go,” he murmured softly, “you need to let go of that rock you’re grasping from a clip and let yourself fall. And i will be there to catch you.”

there was so much love and pain in the atmosphere. one couldn’t exist without the other, if you have loved without hurting, you didn’t love. because love hurt, the urge to let go because you love a person so much. “i just don’t want to hurt you. you’re france’s golden boy and i’m the black sheep of music. i can’t see you get dragged down because of me. i can take my career ending, but yours is so bright and you have so much to achieve yet, it wouldn’t be fair.”

how was he supposed to change her mind, make her see that everything was right. that she was the light of his life and not the darkness of the night. “amara, i choose to be here because i love you. because i can’t stand the thought of you being hurt. that’s love. hurting for the other but knowing that the other is supporting you, has you back all the time.” he assured her, deep meaning behind every of his word. “amara, i won’t force you to be here. this is your choice. if you tell me to leave right now i will. do you want me to?”

her reasoning began to take the upper head again. was this worth it, letting kylian leave and mourn after his departure everyday. but she loved him too much to drag him down with her. she knew he loved her, he has said it multiple times. several songs were scribbled down in her notebook, all able to describe kylian and the way he loved her. would she give all this up — she knew he couldn’t. “i don’t want you to leave. please don’t.”

a fond smile appeared on his lips, bringing out the two spots on each side of his cheek that always made amara weak. he held out his pinky. “we’re going to survive this storm together. me with you at your side. are you in?”

she lifted up her pinky, intertwining it with his. “i’m in. je ne veux plus être seule.” — i don’t wanna be alone anymore.

he smiled at her brightly, happy of his success for convincing her. kylian was there to guide her through the storm, hold her hand when the wind was getting too strong and leaving her back. her problems might not have lessened but his presence reminded her of her own worth, that she wasn’t unlovable like evan had always made him believe. she took a deep breath before surprising kylian again by throwing her hands around his figure and hugging the french striker tightly.

there was a tiny spark of hope, a silent promise even though there wasn’t a concrete promise of happiness but he made it easier. kylian made facing the road easier. there they stood, entwined in each other's arms, knowing that they were safe. that any storm could hit them but it would hit them together now.

after giving him a last squeeze, inhaling his scent for one more time, she let go of him, meeting his gaze. her eyes were bloodred, skin pale and yet a smile was on her lips.

“will i ever be more?” amara asked into the void. “like will my name ever be cleared?”

“i don’t know how much i’ll have to tell worth more than words can describe. no ballon d’or or world cup mean anything to me anymore since i met you. i wake up with a smile because of you and go to bed with a grin because of you. you’re more than beautiful, ethereal. Je sais que tu n’est pas prête au moment mais je veux que tu saches que t’es tout pour moi.” — i know you’re not ready at the moment but i want you to know that you’re everything for me.

she chuckled softly. “i don’t deserve you, ky.”

he waved dismissively. shrugging it off. “how about a nice warm bath while i cook for you and then we eat dinner together like planned?” he proposed, a smile on his face. “and before you start, don’t worry, you don’t have to feel guilty.”

“i don't even feel like standing up at the moment.” she joked lightly, a small grin on her face. “but a bath sounds nice.”

kylian punched her lightly. “go take a bath amara and when you feel better again, there will be food for you.” he was determined to make her feel better, to make her smile reach her eyes again. “chef kylian at your service, what would you like to eat?”

“surprise me,” amara murmured, shrugging.

“then rice with chicken it will be. very good choice,” he joked, “believe me, after having eaten my food, you won’t wanna try anyone else’s.”

“you’re making big promises mbappé.” a smirk creeped up her smile at kylian’s declaration. they both remembered very well the last time he had tried to cook with her, burning the tomato sauce to the pasta she had made. "you’re too kind," she replied, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

he smirked back at her, laughing. “and i tend to keep them.”

“the last time you stepped into my kitchen, i had to clean up the entire floor because you made the tomato sauce explode. so excuse me for being wary.”

he chuckled, rolling his eyes at the memory. "you’re never letting that go, are you?” he questioned sarcastically, feigning offense. "but i’ll let you know that i’ve been secretly working on my cooking skills, perfecting the art of rice and chicken. just you wait!"

she held her hand up in surrender. “fine, i’m leaving my kitchen in your hands. please try to not burn anything.” she warned jokingly, taking all her strength to pull herself up. “i’ll be back in a minute.”

“you’ll be surprised with what you’re about to eat.” he called after her as she disappeared into her bedroom before he stood up too and made his way to the kitchen.

he had been right. a shower had definitely been needed. the warm water had added an extra reassurance and calmness to her body and the several flowery oils had added an extra touch to the sensitivity of her skin, making it even softer. after stepping out of the bathroom, she had chosen a comfy sports leggings with a small crop top before she threw kylian’s hoodie over her figure.

there was something comfortable and familiar about his hoodie, it smelled like him and reminded her of him. majority of her new songs had been written with said hoodie on her body, keeping her warm and reminding her about who she was even writing that song. the soft dark blue fabric draped over her shoulders, a bit loose as the hoodie was a bit big on her but she loved it that way. the comforting connection between herself and kylian just because of a hoodie was so much deeper than just their relationship. it helped find her way back.

amara was thrown out of her thoughts by her phone ringing, bringing her back to reality. reluctance was stopping her from answering the phone immediately but she accepted the call instantly once she saw the caller-id, smiling at the familiar voice on the other end.

“ada,” her mother’s soft voice greeted her, resembling music in her ears. ‘ada’ was a name her mother had started calling her, signifying the oldest daughter — a term her mother had brought home from her origin country nigeria. amara missed it.

“nne,” amara whispered, her voice immediately breaking. “ana m atụ uche gi nke ukwuu.” — mum, i miss you so much

“oh my dear ada,” taraji imani exclaimed in despair, feeling the pain of her daughter. “i read what they wrote about you. ada, that boy must have hated you to do something like that.”

amara scoffed. “i don’t even know what i did that could make him do something like that. i loved him.”

“that boy was never good and now we have finally seen him good colors. onye nzuzu,” she cursed her daughter’s ex boyfriend. “i know it hurts like hell in the moment but we both know you're stronger than this. we grew up in a third-world country, there has been worse.”

even though her heart filled with gratitude and care, she still felt misunderstood by her mother. “mama, they’re after me now for everything. everything i worked so hard for is gone.”

her mother’s mind stayed firm, not accepting any doubt or negativity in her mind state. “amara, believe me no one can decide what you’re worth. i brought you into this world and i had already deemed you worth than anything that existed. your name was written in the stars from the beginning. and no man or article is ever gonna change that. ekwere m gi nkwa.” — i promise you.

amara smiled, finding strength in her mothers words. she admired her mother’s strength to always see the positive in things that were clearly negative. “thank you mama. somehow this is exactly what i needed. ahụrụ m gi n'anya nke ukwuu.” — i love you so much

“that's what i’m here for, right?” she replied jokingly, “highs and the lows, i’ll always be here, holding you up, and cheering you on. and i am the proudest person everyday, because i had the privilege of raising you."

she swallowed the lump in her throat, taking a moment before answering. “i’m going to be fighting mama. i’m going to prove them wrong.”

“that’s what i was expecting from you.” she applauded her. “wepụta oge gi iji gwọọ ma anyi ga-aga n'ihu. Aga m eme ihe niile iji hụ na i ga-alaghachi n'elu, ada. you’ll tell me more about your new songs when i’m coming to visit you next week but i have to go now love. your father is calling me. and in case things still go wrong, you could always sue.” — take your time to heal and we will move on. i'll do everything to make sure you get back on top, ada.

even though her mother couldn’t see her, she nodded with her head, grinning at the last sentence. “yes, mama. i don’t know if i’ll sue but i’ll keep it in mind. daalụ, ahụrụ m gi n'anya.” — bye, i love you

“hụkwara gi n'anya.” — love you too

her mother ended the call and amara placed her phone on the bed again. mothers always knew best, the truest sentence ever. she could hold on now, wait for the storm to wash over calmly.

the scent of rice and savory spices were what finally made her leave the bedroom. the smell of chicken found its way into her nose, making her stomach grumble in return. she had neglected eating since the past few weeks, only eating when necessary with her head being occupied so often.

walking into the kitchen, she watched with amazement as kylian moved between the stove and the oven. her original skepticism faded away with every second she watched. this somehow felt different — she was used to their small takeout dinners that had somehow turned into dates with their frequency. but cooking for her changed the situation. it felt more intimate, kylian wanted to put a genuine smile on her face again. show what it could be like if she let go but she couldn’t. she had gone one step forward just to be put back three steps back again.

“i’m impressed,” amara complimented him as she flipped the chicken, the crusty, golden-brown colour taking the surface. “this looks delicious.”

“told you so,” he bragged, pride flowing through his body. he turned off the stove, and placed the cooked chicken next to a bowl of rice along with some cooked vegetables that he had put into the oven.

she gratefully accepted her plate, instantly taking a bite since her desire for food was taking over her whole mind. a wide grin spread across her face as she savored the delicious creation. “i’m in love with this.”

a prideful expression appeared on his face, happy to have brought the smile back on her face. he noticed that she seemed calmer again. the person she just talked too must have calmed her down again, amara seemed at easiness now.

he had poured everything into this meal. she would never know that he had called his mother after the cooking accident and asked her to teach him some cooking basics. he had wanted to give back to her, to show her that he didn’t take her cooking for him when he was over for granted. it would forever be his secret but it was worth it, if it meant sitting here, talking to her and watching her laugh as she ate.

conversation flowed easily between them as they ate. the gloomy and sad atmosphere seemed to disappear replaced with a warm and comfortable air. it also surprised her how habitual everything had become. having dinner with kylian had become so natural for her, she couldn’t even imagine having dinner alone anymore. they had created a rhythm to their life together.

after they had finished eating and amara had placed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, she followed kylian to the counter, where the french striker had made himself comfortable on one of the leather stools. he instantly smirked once he recognized the hoodie she was wearing, the one he had given her before his away match.

“am i ever going to get my hoodie back?” he asked her in an amusing tone.

she looked at him with an incredulous expression, raising an eyebrow. “since when do people reclaim their given things?” she scolded him lightly. “it keeps me way too warm to give it back to you.”

amara would never admit to him that the reason she loved his hoodie was because it smelled like him. it still possessed his scent like the day he had given it to her.

“i could just give you another one,” he suggested, earning an eye-roll from amara.

“you could also just buy the same one again if you miss it so much. i mean, what else do you do with your 80 million euro contract?”

he shrugged her question off, waving dismissively. “tu sais quoi?" he retorted sarcastically, “keep it. i don’t want it anymore.” — you know what?

she laughed as he pouted, leaning her head down on the shoulder. surrounded by music and soft melodies coming out of the famous bluetooth box, the pair was engrossed in a conversation, their usual banter filled with humor and sarcasm. all of sudden the soft strains and first tact’s of stevie wonder’s “i just called to say i love you” began to play out of the box. she was surprised he had it in her playlist, considering he wasn’t the type to like old, classic love songs.

his eyes developed a mischievous glimmer, sparkling nearly — one of the most beautiful things amara had seen on a person. the french striker lifted himself from the stool, starting to move to the beat while staring at amara with such an intensity, yearning and desiring to create another intimate moment of them. show her what they could be if she let herself fall, if she came back to the steps they had made already. all that through the simple act of swaying.

confusion grew on her face as she suddenly extended his hand to her, waiting for her to join him. she hesitated, reluctant as she knew she would embarrass herself when she would tell kylian she didn’t know how to. as his expectance grew, amara sighed before confessing, “je connais pas danser comme ça.” — i don’t know how to dance like that

“how come? i mean aren’t you a dancer mainly?” kylian asked curiously. “i thought singing was the sidething that you discovered?”

she arched an eyebrow. “did you read my wiki page?” she questioned him, smirking.

he rolled his eyes, glad that his skin wasn’t lighter or else he would have matched the color of a tomato. “only parts,” he admitted quietly and then pointed at her shocked. “don’t try to change the subject here. why can’t you slow-dance?”

sighing again and swallowing the lump in her throat, she replied in a somewhat gloomy voice, “because i’ve never slow-danced in my life. i missed my prom because i was sick and evan hated dancing. wherever we were, weddings, events, he didn’t like it. and i never needed it for any of my choreos, so i thought it wasn’t important.”

a fond smile on his face, his gaze softened with his hand remaining extended. in some twisted way, he was thankful for evan — because of the many screw-ups, he was able to show amara what love could really be. create moments with her, that strengthened and bonded a relationship. “come on,” he told her, waving her over to him. “i’ll teach you. you can have as many dances as you want.”

without further hesitation, she placed her hand in kylian’s, her body immediately reacting to the act. their hands intertwined, with warmth and love radiating between their bodies, kylian started the song from new and began to guide the singer through the living room, a soft orange-yellow glow looming over them and illuminating every of their step.

she was scared at first, it was clear from the beginning. instead of looking at him, she focused too much on her feet, stumbling whenever she was unsure and got confused with the steps. but he was patient. “just let yourself unite with the music, feel it instead of trying to perfect steps. it comes naturally.”

“and i’m supposed to be the singer?” she retorted rhetorically, nonetheless she still accepted his advices, gazing into kylian’s eyes as they continued. it went better now — his presence and guide helped her find her own rhythm in the music and a few mishaps and wrong steps soon turned into growing confidence in her movements. when the tunes of “sexual healing” began, amara had learned to trust the guidance of kylian’s hands. here they stood, their bodies swaying to the soft tunes and bonding over their new-found trust for each other. the living room became a place with no worries but only themselves.

no money on earth could replace this moment for her. he didn’t realize but he was giving her so much more. kylian gave her the world. he was ready to let his be destroyed if it meant her happiness. he had proven to her so many times that he would be here, that he wouldn’t move. she had been emotional and vulnerable in front of him and he still wanted her. she didn’t know, kylian would always want her.

as the evening descended, the two continued to dance to old, timeless love songs, time holding still for them. hours passed as they swayed to different songs. after a good one and a half hour spent teaching amara how to dance, they collapsed on the couch, both out of breath from the all the dancing.

“since when were you such a dancer?”

“i’m not. but my parents used to dance to this sometimes when i was a child before they divorced.” he replied, the memory putting a smile on his face.”

“you should stick to it. after getting to know your music taste and hearing you sing, dancing is definitely the better choice as a back-up career.” she retorted mockingly.

his face scrunched up, offended by her statement. “i’ll have you know that music and me work perfectly. i can even play some intrusments.”

“as if,” amara replied, raising an eyebrow. “you, mr. i have to do everything at lightening speed, had the patience to learn an instrument. i’ll believe it when i die.”

instead of replying to her, kylian grabbed her hand pulled her up. he dragged amara to the next room, knowing a majestic black piano would be waiting for them there. his face lit up with delight, loving how he would he not only be able to impress her but also prove her wrong. he loved proving people wrong.

a sly grin on his face, he placed his fingers on the ivory/white keys. she was intrigued, she wouldn’t lie about that but her sceptism hadn’t completely turned into curiosity. still, the fact that kylian was able to connect with music made him even more attractive in her eyes.

amara would have liked a warning. a breathtaking, gorgeous melody sounded through the room the moment kylian began to play. his fingers flew effortlessly over the keys, as if he had played his entire life long. she was instantly captivated by the enchanting melody, her sceptism immediately replaced with awe and adoration.

and all of sudden, her head was filled with lyrics. words that weren’t wording became genuine, breathtaking lyrics for a song. if she didn’t write her ideas and sentences down now, she would forget them.

“this is gorgeous.” she exclaimed, interrupting kylian, the latter jumping up instantly at the sound of his name. he had been so focused on playing, he hadn’t noticed the spark in her eyes but he saw it now clearly. “just wait here, i’ll be back in a second.” she told the french striker, walking out of the room.

she came back a few minutes later with a pen and her notebook, where she wrote down all her new song ideas. she quickly flicked through the book, looking quickly for a new blank page. since kylian’s arrival in her life, motivation was flowing constantly. and she was so ready to use it after such a long drought.

“now play it again.” she ordered him excitingly. “je ne sais pas ou t’as pris cette melodie mais je l’adore. J’ai besoin d’elle.” — i don't know where you got that melody but i love it, i need it.

he smirked at her urgence. “see, je le t’avais dit. i’m a pro at this.” — see, i told you so

“will you play it again, if i tell you, i should have never doubted you?” amara inquired, impatient to write her thoughts down. somehow after having been so vulnerable in front of him, she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him anymore. she was fine, exposing her heart on a sleeve towards him. giving him the five percent she had never given anyone but always kept to herself.

“wouldn’t hurt to hear this one more time.”

“ky, i’m sorry i ever doubted you. je te promets, à partir de maintenant, j’aurai toujours confiance en toi. now play please.” — i promise, i’ll never doubt you again, from now on i’ll always trust you

he chuckled, pleased with his success. he obliged and continued to play the previous melody over and over, his fingers sliding gracefully across the keys. amara let herself down on the floor next to him, furiously scribbling notes as kylian played.

in silent screams in wildest dreams i never dreamed of this

the lyrics were flowing out of her, her mind radiating motivation. kylian played soft tones that matched her feelings, matched the way she felt about him. how he changed her perspective on love. showed her that it could be so much more than just pain and suffering. she had experienced bad love with evan and was now experiencing all the good things with kylian.

This love is good This love is bad This love is alive back from the dead

they both knew, they still had to make some steps. steps that the article and her insecurity had pushed back. but like so often, music created connections. a bond between her creativity and his musical power.

he was there for her whenever she needed him. ready to pull her up whenever something had knocked her down. when she lost control of her own life, lost herself he was ready to navigate her, remind her who she was. somehow his timing was always perfect. it was shown when he appeared today, just in time for her heavy panic attack.

in losing grip On sinking ships You showed up just in time

and so, they spend their evening with kylian playing various melodies he had learned on the piano and her using that to give her brain inspiration and writing her song. a simple sarcastic exchange had lead them to this moment, a collaboration that made them find out how much music could create everlasting moments and firsts.

This love came back to me

she had lost love, hadn’t truly felt its feeling and sensations and he had brought it back to her. but she wouldn’t lie and say evan had only been bad. only problem with him had been that he had destroyed her in the end. still she could, would rise from all that.

maybe her reputation was at its worst for the moment — but kylian liked her for her. that was all that mattered.

taglist: @locedes @aechii @Ippi_d

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touretticeddiemunson · 4 months

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“Be Careful” | Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Hurt/Some Comfort

TW: mentions of HIV/AIDS and character death

This is a Steddie/Stranger Things & Falsettos musical crossover! This short fic does not necessarily match real time in either show.

—

Wayne Munson led a simple, quiet life. He was never really one for all the hustle and bustle of big city life that his best friend wanted growing up.

Whizzer was obsessed with getting out of Hawkins. It was all he talked about.

“I’m too good for this town, Wayne. I know I am. You are, too. You could go with me, to New York. Where we can be open, find guys that will actually love us, instead of wanting quickies in bathrooms. I want to finally be happy,” Whizzer had said.

“My whole life is right here, Whizz. I can’t just leave. My brother, he’s got a girlfriend who’s pregnant. He’s not gonna be there for the kid, and she’s gonna need help. I can’t just leave. I can’t just let that kid grow up without help,” Wayne had argued. They were in their 20s around this time. The perfect age to just get out.

But Wayne couldn’t bring himself to do it.

So, Whizzer left. He went to New York, found a guy. He kept Wayne updated, told him all about the man’s kid and how wicked smart he was.

“He’s so sweet, Wayne. Eddie would love him. They could play together, if you ever came to visit,” Whizzer had said over the phone one day. It had been 6 years since Whizzer left.

Wayne had gotten custody of 5 year old Eddie a couple months prior.

“You could always come back with Marvin. I can’t just pick Eddie up and leave to New York. That city is no place for a youngin’ like him.” Wayne made an excuse. He was just too scared to leave Hawkins, really. He didn’t like that much change.

“You know I can’t come back to Hawkins, Wayne. I just…can’t.” Whizzer relented, his hurt emotions panging Wayne right in the heart through the receiver of the phone.

“I know, Whizz. Just…be careful, alright? I’m hearin’ some things about shit going around. Don’t get sick. Love you, bud.” He warned before hanging up with a soft affirmation of love for the boy. He’d always quietly loved Whizzer, the boy who was loud and unafraid to be himself. Wayne always felt too small, too afraid to love Whizzer as loud as he deserved to be. So Whizzer never knew.

Eddie grew up hearing stories and watching Wayne talk to “Uncle Whizzer”, the sweet boy his uncle once knew who ran off to New York to chase his dreams of love and passion. He would hear about him every day, about Jason, the little boy two years older than him. About Marvin, his stubborn and bitter lover. They had broken up for 2 years, but gotten back together after getting over their bullshit.

Wayne slowly got more and more bitter talking to Whizzer on the phone. The more Wayne heard about Marvin, the tighter he’d grip his coffee cup in the morning as Eddie got himself ready and watched him from the counter eating a cold bagel.

Until one day, when the calls just stopped. They just…stopped happening. Wayne shut Eddie own every time he asked about “Uncle Whizzer”.

9 years later, Wayne came home to hearing giggling and seeing shuffling in the living room. He hopped out of his truck and walked up to the door, making sure his keys jingled in the lock as he entered.

He half expected Eddie to be cuddled up with some girl, so he mentally prepared himself to make the “use protection, not on the couch, I’m always here if you need anything” talk.

To Wayne’s surprise, he walked into the trailer see his Eddie under another boy, their lips connected and hands wandering to places they definitely shouldn’t be. He felt his heart thump, his stomach twist, and his eyes prick with tears.

Not his boy. Not his Eddie. He walked right out the door he came through, slamming it shut. He heard curses, something knock over, followed by the calling of his name from inside the trailer.

“Wayne, we weren’t— I’m sorry, please come back in. We’re decent, it’s fine. Let me talk to you,” Eddie pleaded through the door.

Wayne huffed and managed to go back inside, meeting Eddie’s eyes with a firmness he didn’t usually have.

“Eddie, I need you to know I’ve got no problem with this. Just…I didn’t think I’d have to give you this talk so soon.” He sighed, his hands being shoved into his pockets. Eddie and Steve audibly groaned, moving to sit down.

“We were being safe, Mr. Munson, honest.” Steve reassures, hands coming down to anxiously rub at his knees.

“That’s just the thing, son. I just…you have to make sure this is what you want. Sex is…dangerous for you boys. Anything could go wrong at any time. A rubber could break, one of you could get cut, anything could happen. You have to be careful.” Wayne explained, avoiding saying the word. It hurt too much. That was when Eddie said it, so casually. So…desensitized.

“God, Wayne, we know about AIDS. We’ve been exposed to it almost our whole lives. We know how to avoid it.” Eddie groaned tiredly, not wanting the disease explained to him by another adult who was worried about him.

“Eddie. I know you know. But you’re not hearing me. You have to be careful. I don’t want to lose you like I lost your Uncle Whizzer,” he admitted, his eyes falling to his lap.

“Uncle who?” Steve asked, but Eddie didn’t respond.

Oh, god. He remembered. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. The clattering sound of the phone hitting the wall when Wayne dropped it. Remembered hearing his sobbing. Remembered seeing Wayne crumpled on the floor, hitting the floor with one fist and clutching his shirt over his heart with the other, like it was shattering and he was trying to hold it together.

Wayne had never cried that loud, that hard ever in front of Eddie.

“Oh, shit. That’s why he stopped calling?” Eddie asked, his voice breaking as Wayne gave a solemn nod. “And…Whizzer’s boyfriend?” He asked. Wayne sniffled and shook his head, watching as Eddie inhaled sharply and let out a sob.

“God…Wayne. I’m so sorry. We’ll be more careful. You won’t lose me. I won’t let you lose anyone else.” Eddie promised, leaning forward and grabbing Wayne’s hands.

The older man looked at Eddie with tear-filled eyes and gave an affirming nod, getting up and kissing Eddie’s temple.

They never talked about that night again.

Over the years, Wayne watched their love grow. Witnessed them get too intimate to stay in that little trailer with Wayne. Soon enough, Hawkins became too little for their big “six little nuggets” plan. They agreed to move to New York. A more accepting place, where they could easily find others like them.

Helping them move into their city apartment, it was here that Wayne got a chance to visit Whizzer for the first time in years, and meet Marvin.

He entered the cemetery on a Thursday afternoon, sniffling upon seeing two faded chess pieces on their headstones. Jason loved chess, Whizzer had said years ago. This must have been his doing.

He knew now that this was the perfect place for his Whizzer all along. Hawkins wasn’t enough. It wasn’t Wayne. It was the place. He should have gone with him, but he was just too scared. He fell to his knees, touching the headstone of his friend, his first love.

“Hey, Whizz. It’s Wayne. I’m here. I made it to visit. I’m sorry I’m so late. It’s about time, huh? God, I love ya. I love ya more than anything, Whizzer Brown.” He murmured to the grave, breaking the silence in the air.

Within a second, he felt the wind brush his cheek. It wasn’t a normal gust. It lingered and felt almost like slender, soft fingers brushing the skin. He noticed a leaf fall on the grass in front of Whizzer’s grave, watched it twitch as the wind tried to pull it free from the grass.

It was then that he knew Steve and Eddie would be safe here. Whizzer and Marvin would watch over them.

His boys belonged here. They’d have two strong gusts of wind pushing them along, keeping them together.

He was sure of it.

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floral-ashes · 3 months

Text

Book release day! Very queer, very trans, very fun~~ <3

🚨📚 Today is the Canadian release day for my new book Gender/Fucking: The Pleasures and Politics of Living in a Gendered Body! Reviews of the book and links to where you can get it are at the bottom of this post.

But first, some pictures!

Asking what we can learn from sexual arousal, the book takes an incredibly raw and thought-provoking look at community, queerness, fetishization, trauma, and hope. The book tricks you into reading theory by sandwiching it in erotica. Or maybe it tricks you into reading erotica by sandwiching it in theory? I don’t know anymore...

I decided to go with an indie press that believed in the book and its transformative potential. But it means we don’t have the marketing budget of Penguin et al. I really need your collective help with spreading the word about it. Because it could benefit so many.

Early readers told me it’s a book that unmakes you and puts you back together piece by piece. It hurts, it troubles, and it nourishes. It gives voice to truths that were hidden deep in your bones. That’s how I felt writing it, and what I hope I get to share with all readers. I was using the expression “academic smut” to describe the book, but someone said it might be better called “smut therapy.”

I’ve joked a few times with friends that this is a book best read one orgasm per chapter. But it has more than a grain of truth to it. I do believe that we can learn from arousal, instead of seeing it as the antithesis of knowledge. Don’t disavow the truths of the body.

The book is an ode to the messiness of human experience. I wrote it as a way of healing and of connecting with others. While I foremost wrote it with other queer and trans people in mind, everyone can see themselves in this book and gain from it. We all share in humanity.

This year has been rough, between the intense harassment, death threats, and hate hitting really close to home. Knowing that this book was coming out has sustained me. Knowing that I would have this moment of community, of shared passion, has been a balm on those psychic wounds.

Once you get your copy, post pictures and share your impressions as you read under the hashtag #GenderFucking. You can also tag me! This book is a journey. You will feel deeply. You will have many thoughts. Some challenging, some cathartic, some freeing. All worthwhile.

You can also help me out by posting reviews on Goodreads and Amazon. If you want to write a longer review for a blog or a magazine, or suggest it for review at your favourite newspaper or magazine, that would be tremendous! All help spreading the word is truly appreciated.

Ignite the flames of passion and curiosity. Join me in embracing the raw, vibrant truth of our gendered existence.

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤:

“This book is a light among a sea of uncertainty and darkness.” -Haley (spoonie.reads)

“This book aroused me, laid bare my trauma, and rang a bell deep in my soul. […] This book could change your life. It changed mine.” -Gwen Marshall, philosopher

“Transsexuality has never been sexier.” -Cáel Keegan, author of Lana and Lilly Wachowski: Sensing Transgender

“By introducing new ways of thinking about love, sex, relationships, and the impending future, this book meditates on the stigma against daring to have a body—and especially a transfeminine body—in public space.” -Amy Marvin, author of Laughing at Trans Women: A Theory of Transmisogyny

For longer reviews, head on over to Goodreads.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐲:

Find a local bookstore in Canada by using the “shop local” function of this website.

For a partial list of bookstores in Canada and elsewhere.

For the ‘muricans among you.

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captainsimagines · 1 year

Text

pretty woman, this is me trying || two

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(2/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: discussions about consensual sex work; strong language; references to sexual acts

Word Count: 3,380+

Sometimes you loved your job. Sometimes you hated it.

On a night like this, however, you absolutely loved it.

Kendall was a forty-something year old man—he hadn’t disclosed the exact age for work related reasons—and he always picked the best restaurants. Italian cuisine, Chinese, Mexican. It was like he scoured all of New York for you specifically, and made note of the best ones.

When he had first sent you a message, you were weirded out by the lack of information on his page. You had sent his profile to be vetted through the website’s system, only to be told that he had special permission to leave his profile half blank. Apparently, Mr. Kendall No Last Name was a CIA agent who asked for the utmost discretion.

So with pepper spray and a letter opener in your purse, you risked it.

And boy, was that a good choice.

He never wanted to sleep with you. He just wanted company. Someone to talk to about his pending divorce and about stress from work. A hot meal was provided, a hotel room was usually booked, and reruns of old 90s movies played in the background as Kendall continued ranting, drinking his champagne and falling asleep before you.

He was attractive. Green eyes and curly brown hair. A muscular body that wasn’t too extreme. Lips that you had found yourself staring at for too long some moments. But they were so perfectly etched on his face, how could you not?

You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t excited for his dates. He was a repeat client, scheduled for Friday nights and sometimes Saturday mornings. He had been choosing your services for over a year, and Christmas time brought his highest booking rates.

One-thousand dollars a night. No sex, he wouldn’t let you pay for food, and he always ended the date with, “So, same time next week?”

Your phone pinged with the notification that he had indeed booked you for the same time next week.

Kendall wasn’t your only client, though. And just because he wasn’t asking you for sex didn’t mean the others weren’t.

Justin was usually an all-in kind of guy. You usually had to fake your orgasms with him. But he was attractive and held good conversation, so you put up with it.

Marvin just wanted blowjobs. Literally, that was all he ever asked for. Then he filled up the rest of his time with talk of Star Wars.

Leslie was your only female client. After doing your nails and gossiping about work, she went down on you. Like, for an hour straight. Then she pulled out the strap-on, laid on her stomach, and asked you to fuck her hard and fast.

She was probably the client you looked forward to the most after Kendall.

You unlocked your apartment door and triple-checked the lock after closing it. You had left your pajamas laid out and your skincare routine all lined up. You internally high-fived yourself for that.

Once you snuggled up in bed, you scrolled through your social media. You were private on most things, and your public sites had no personal photos. It was a hazard for work, so you compromised.

As your eyes became heavier, you clicked off your phone and turned it upside down on your nightstand. You had a free day tomorrow. No clients, just grocery shopping.

Your phone pinged. Had Kendall forgotten something? Did you remember to take your cardigan from the passenger seat of his car?

You groaned and unlocked your phone, squinting as the light nearly blinded you. It was a notification from the escort app—a private message. You debated opening it in the morning, but a free day was a free day for a reason. No work, no distractions, nothing.

You choked on your spit as you finished reading the first line. Flopping over in bed, you reached over to turn on your lamp.

“Good evening, Escort Renaissance.”

You rolled your eyes. It was a stage name you had picked as a joke, thinking you could change it later. But your profile was completed and made permanent once you created the account. You would have to contact customer service to change it or create a whole different profile. It was more work than you wanted to do.

“As you can tell by the encryption, this message is private. Not even the technology support of this app can view it. My name is Maria Hill, co-director of Stark Industries and field agent, tasked with contacting you through Tony Stark himself.”

This had to be a joke. It was a joke. No way this was serious.

“We were wondering if you would be interested in attending the annual Avengers Christmas Ball this month. Our only request is that you attend on the arm of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. If his history is a dealbreaker for you, please delete this email and sign the NDA that will appear in your personal email inbox afterward.

If you accept, would you be able to visit the Avengers Compound tomorrow morning, December 2nd, and possibly meet with the Sergeant? Specifics of this agreement will be, and can only be, discussed in person.

Thank you,

Agent Maria Hill, Co-Director

Stark Industries”

You blinked at the message multiple times, rereading it just in case something popped up mid-read and announced it was a scam. Because this had to be.

There was no way the Winter Soldier was in the market for a hooker.

You were a stupid person. You were going to be proven right, that this was all a scam, and be absolutely humiliated at the front door. Or rather, front gate.

Oh my god, there were people with guns at the front gate.

What the fuck do you say? Hi! I’m the escort one of you signed up for!

You drove to the entrance and counted your breaths, trying to make the next inhale longer than the last. The man at the kiosk motioned at you to stop your car. Then five other people started scanning it and checking your tires.

“You know what? Forget it. I just remembered I had this appointment with my nail tech at one today, so I can just put this bitch in reverse and fuck off—”

“Are you M.R?”

Are you M.R?

“By M.R, do you mean Miss Renaissance?”

The man’s eyebrows knitted together as he read his clipboard again. “Yeah, the artist Stark wanted to speak with about a new piece for his office.”

You swallowed a whimper. The humiliation was turning to nausea now. “Yup, that’s me. Artist, painter, what the fuck drawer.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before shaking his head, deciding it was better to just let you through than deal with you himself. If anything did go wrong, the Avengers would handle you.

Oh my god, the Avengers would handle you.

Squealing all the way to the parking lot, you prayed to whatever entity would listen that this conversation went well. Did the Avengers often call for sex workers to… accompany them to Balls? Or did they employ them for what the job description literally said?

You were escorted through the entrance and down several hallways. They let you know where the bathrooms were, where the fire alarm was, where the I need an Avenger, stat! alarm was. They were color-coded, too.

You stepped faaaar away from the green one.

They made you sign an NDA regardless. You were sat in a large room that looked lived-in, with a kitchen off to the side and the entrance to the gym on the other. A stray cardigan hung from the recliner and several board games were stacked in the bookcase. Someone’s Netflix home page was on the TV screen, slideshow on.

These were the same people who fought aliens and killed people. Who carried guns and were hunted by the government for a time. Who had seen atrocious things and lived through immense trauma—

“Miss Renaissance!”

You startled, phone toppling from your already shaking fingers and onto the blue rug. You scoped the floor like Velma looking for her glasses, apologizing under your breath. Whoever stepped in front of you had very nice dress shoes.

“That’s me, I’m her. Hi.”

They held out a hand. You dared to look up, whimper fully released now as you realized whose hand was reaching down to help you. Never in your life did you think Tony Stark would help you stand. Let alone contact you. No doubt he’s utilized the services of escorts and the like, but did you ever think you’d be one of them? Nope.

“Glad to see you’re on time! And dressed incredibly saucy if I may add.”

You blushed, looking down at your attire. You had worn a knitted sweater and a pair of leggings, with sneakers and some fuzzy socks. It was almost winter, after all. Stark’s sarcasm is a relief really. It didn’t sound condescending.

“Well, they say dress for the job you want, not the job you have.”

“And what job do you want?”

“Why, hooker of course!”

Stark sputters a laugh, smiling wide. “Yay, I like you already. Follow me?”

The breath is knocked from your lungs in one big rush. All the worry you were feeling beforehand had seemed to diminish, now turning into something more neutral. If they didn’t want you around, then you’ll have left without making such a horrendous first impression.

“You sign the NDA?”

“Got the ink on my fingers to prove it.”

“You like the compound?”

“I prefer my little shoebox.”

“You like big, strong, burly men with long hair?”

“If they can fuck like Gods, I’m all for them.”

Another choked laugh. “Good to know.”

He led you into a more private area, and it wasn’t until Pietro Maximoff appeared from a side door that you realized where you were heading.

A bedroom.

Oh my god, Stark was leading you to a bedroom. Oh my god, was work starting already?

“Um, I was told this was simply a meeting and that I didn’t have to perform—”

“Oh, Hell. I’m sorry. I’m leading you to the Sergeant’s room because it’s soundproof. You are not fucking him.”

You blew a raspberry, shoulders falling limp. “Oh, yay, good. I didn’t shave.”

“You know what? Forget about Barnes. Be mine instead.”

It was your turn to laugh. Stark knocked on the door three times, rocking on his heels as he waited.

What would the Winter Soldier be like? Was he tough and rugged? Was he quiet and mysterious? Was he gentle and kind? Did he fuck like a God?

The door opened to reveal none of the above.

There weren’t words to describe him. None would suffice.

You were utterly, truly, awestruck. He had blue eyes that looked so damn sad but gleamed a beautiful silver. A nose with the perfect arch that was just a little scarlet on the tip. Lips so pink and precious and hydrated, your leg muscles clenched. Long hair up in a messy bun, conditioned and shiny. And his body…

You were ogling. You were being offensive. You tried focusing on the objects behind him but that only got you looking at his shoulder.

Metal. Metal and strong and shit.

You wanted that metal hand wrapped around your neck.

“Hi,” you squeaked, clearing your throat immediately afterward. “I’m—”

“Renaissance?”

“Ugh, that’s a stage name. I would have chosen Lightening Pussy if they allowed name changes, but Renaissance is all I’ve got to work with.”

The Sergeant blinked, blue eyes looking from you to Stark. “Come in please.”

Scratch everything you said before about this being a bedroom. This was a whole private apartment. His own marble kitchen, living area, a single bathroom, and an extra private bedroom down the hall. It was amazing, but it wasn’t overly personal.

Everything looked like a model home. Impersonal but practical.

“So what do you want to know?”

The Sergeant opened his mouth to speak but Stark beat him to it. “Are you available for the entire month?”

You scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“Dead. Barnes here has been talking about swiping his V-Card since he moved in but he’s got a lot to learn. I would pay you for the entire month, even past the day of the Ball so you don’t lose out on any income that could have come from other dates.”

“I’m—” Barnes cringed, whispering lightly. “I’m not a virgin.”

Stark cleared his throat, his face suddenly going serious. He looked at Barnes like he was trying to apologize, to speak with his eyes. A conversation that needed to be had without you in the room.

So you changed the subject. “I would have to let my other clients know as soon as possible. What dollar range are we talking?”

“Let’s say…” Stark pretended to add in his mind. “One hundred thousand?”

“W-what?”

“Is that too little?” Stark asked, pulling out his phone. “I’m sure Pepper said that amount.”

“One… One hundred thousand?”

“Yeah, see, here,” Stark said, turning his phone and showing you the email. “One hundred thousand dollars, paid upfront, cash or check.”

“One hundred THOUSAND?”

“Is she not getting this? I’m getting this. Are you getting this, Barnes?”

Barnes wiped a frustrated hand down his face, groaning, “She gets it, Stark. She’s just not believing it.”

You usually made rent on time. Sometimes you had to dip into your savings, but that’s what it was there for. One hundred thousand dollars could get you a better apartment. It could pay for travel. It could change your life.

You enjoyed your job. You didn’t mind the odd hours or the sex. You had a choice in it all. But would you like to do something else with your life that allowed you a different kind of freedom?

Absolutely.

“What exactly am I being recruited for?”

“Barnes,” Tony said, bowing his head a little. “Shall I leave you to it?”

Barnes nodded, still not meeting your eye. He was reserved, you could tell that by his demeanor alone. But there was something else about him. Something chaotic but pure, bursting at the seams. No word described him yet because you didn’t know him. You didn’t want to assume. So you left him as he currently was: Reserved.

When the door clicked, Barnes shot back quickly to sit on the couch. Several feet away from you.

“Do I smell?”

Barnes’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“I showered last night and put on perfume, so it’s a problem with your nose. Not my pits.”

He shook his head, blinking as if to clear his mind. “Can I speak, please? And call me Bucky.”

Bucky. Even his name was unique.

“Stark is hosting a Christmas Ball on Christmas Eve and I need a date. But I don’t know anyone, so.”

“Ah, so your only solution was to hire a hooker.”

“I thought you were an escort.”

You shrugged, putting your purse down on one of the nearby bar stools. “When they don’t fuck me, I’m an escort.”

Bucky cringed, but quickly tried to hide it. Did this guy have a problem with consensual sex work? Because if he did then this was going to be a problem. You had no problem telling off the Winter Soldier. You didn’t care how red his ledger was.

“I just… I just need a date. I’m not expecting anything from you. But I would greatly appreciate it if you could accompany me.”

So, he did want you. Just in a whole other context. He was probably just too shy to send you the message himself.

“Alright. So is this like a test run? We ask each other questions and you see if you like me or not?”

Again, his face did some awkward contorting motion. “We don’t have to. I know enough.”

He… What?

“Did you guys run a background check on me?”

“Look at where you are.”

“No, no. For sure, I get that. But I’m supposed to be your date. What if people ask where we met, what our favorite foods are, what positions we like to cuddle in?”

“I’m positive no one will care.”

“Bucky Barnes, I am hot. You are hot. We would make a hot couple. People are always curious about hot couples.” You moved to go sit on the opposite couch, speaking simultaneously. “We should at least create a cover story.”

Then he did the weirdest thing.

He stood up the moment your ass hit the cushion, and went to stand near your abandoned purse.

Did he…Was he okay? Was there something else that needed to be addressed? In this business, you’ve seen it all.

People who have overcome trauma and want to explore the things they used to love. People who were battling trauma and wanted to see what they still liked. People who did not touch you, did not want you touching them, and just wanted company. People who fucked like they needed that release, like they were going to die without it.

“Bucky… I can leave now if you’d like me to. I know I come off strong, but I’ve found that usually calms my clients. Especially if they’re first-timers. But if you don’t want me—”

“I want you.”

You paused mid-air, looking at him. He had uncrossed his arms, as if to physically stop you from leaving the room. But you know that idea was exaggerated. It was probably just a reflex.

“Please stay.”

You sat back down, clearing your throat. “Ask me questions. Get comfortable with me. I promise I will do what’s asked of me and respect you and this place. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I could really use that money.”

There. It was said, it was out in the open. No taking it back now. You didn’t want to guilt trip, but you meant what you said. You wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t asked of you and you would make him and the team look good.

Hell, for that amount of money, you would fuck all the Avengers.

But… No. No fucking was going to occur. Just sweet talking, names exchanged, and whatever else this hunk of a man asked of you.

“I…” Bucky looked to the floor, throwing around your words in his mind. His facial expressions were difficult to read. He looked angry, but it could also be frustration. He looked sad, but it could also be boredom.

“Come back tomorrow,” he continued, finally looking up at you. The blue of his eyes glistened, locking you in place. “Come back tomorrow and we can… We can talk about our favorite colors.”

“I said they’d ask what our favorite foods and cuddling positions were.”

Then his chest rumbled, and the most beautiful quiet laugh spilled from his soft-looking lips. His eyes even adopted some of those lovely crinkles. Aging or laughter or otherwise.

You made him laugh.

Gods almighty, let the whole country know that you made him laugh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky Barnes.”

“See you tomorrow…?”

You repeat your name for him, enunciating the pronunciation and everything. He repeats it back to you, and you melt a little inside. Like marshmallows in rich, hot chocolate.

It was Hell emailing your clients to tell them you would be unavailable for the rest of the month. Usually, December is your most busy month. But you would now be making more than you do in six months combined.

That is, if Bucky Barnes liked you tomorrow.

He was, perhaps, the most beautiful man you had ever seen. And the fact that he didn’t physically want you? Fuck your life.

But you were a professional and not everything was about sex. Companionship was a big deal during the holidays, and you were going to deliver.

You finished heating your tea just as Home Alone started on TV. You snuggled deep into your blanket, wincing when your fuzzy socks lightly shocked you. You warmed up your hands, glanced at the falling snow outside your window, and sighed as the opening credits began to roll.

It was your job to provide companionship.

It just always felt one-sided.

Because you were, sadly, so incredibly lonely.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #holiday fanfic #pretty woman au #captainsimagines #by Moni

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Text

Swap Across the CrystalVerse Chapter 10: Shadow City

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs

Read SITCV | SATCV Masterpost | AO3 Link

“—so it's not just ghosts," Jack says. He's spent the past few minutes explaining the state of this universe to Bro, about the vampires and werewolves and witches in the city. "But don't worry, it's usually pretty safe in Scuabyrg. There's this group called the Night Council—well, there's one in most major cities, but the point is they're basically the government for all these secret creatures. They make sure people don't get hurt. Everydays, as they call the normal humans. I dunno if you'd count as one in their eyes. I do, even though I have a 'special power' or whatever."

The car is driving steadily down the near-empty city streets, keeping after one of the magic trails. Said trail is getting steadily more blue.

Bro nods along and hums, “I dunno- my brother is always telling me my powers are like magic. So- don’t really know if I’d count as an everyday, I guess.”

Chase leans in from the backseat. "I'm pretty new to all this magic stuff, but personally, I think you're a special case. Witches here have, like... rules to follow to get and use magic, so you're not one of them. And you're clearly not a vampire or anything."

"Hmm." Jack nods. "Yeah, Chase is right. You'd probably be something special. Your friends might be, too. Maybe. Do they use magic? I don't remember if you've told me."

"Alt does!" Bro says with a smile, "He's all about magic. It's become like one of his favorite things- but I think he's pretty good at it. Jackie is human. Fucking great lad though- he's a parkourist! And like the best dad i know~ .... but that doesn't really have anything to do with being special magic." He laughs.

"Ah, parkour?! Hell yeah, fucking great." Jack grins.

"I did parkour when I was in uni," Chase says. "I mean... sort of. We didn't really know any parkour moves, we really just jumped around. I'm honestly surprised I didn't die, looking back on it. I did fuck up my ribs, though."

"Whoa, hey!" Jack raises his eyebrows. The magic trail they're following is joined by a second one. "Your trails are merging together, other Chase."

"Does that mean that Alt and Jackie have met up?" Chase asks.

Bro leans up to look better and then grins, "Huh! I guess so! Well- that makes things way easier!"

“Do you think they found some of our friends, too?” Chase wonders.

“Maybe,” Jack says. “I hope they weren’t too scared.”

"My friends? Nah- they're tough lads. ...well Jackie maybe but- I'm sure he's fine." Bro snickers. "I'm assuming your friends are also like- supernatural things too?"

Jack grins. “If he’s as tough as our Jackie, you’re probably right.” Then he nods. “Yeah. Jackie’s a werewolf, Schneep and JJ are vampires, and Marvin is… well, sort of a creature. He’s a witch.”

“He’s been helping with the whole… how did I die thing,” Chase says.

"Oh! Dude- that's wicked." Bro grins. "We don't have things like that at home! I mean, besides magic- I'm guessing witches are pretty similar to magicians-"

"Probably!" Jack agrees. "We have different types of witches here, depending on where they draw their power from. Plants or earth magic are probably the most common sources, but with practice, people can learn to draw power from anything. Death, breathing, the fucking... concept of chaos itself. And then there are spells and rituals to do their magic."

"It's pretty interesting," Chase says. "But sometimes a bit hard to follow. I'm not good with all this magic stuff, I think."

"Oh neither am I- Alt's the one that gets it the most. I'm just there to support him- even if I don't understand a lick of it sometimes." Bro laughs.

"I'm with you guys, too," Jack says. "All I know is magic is the sparkly stuff. Usually. Unless it's darkness magic." He chuckles.

The car turns a street corner, and the headlights shine on an unusual sight. A large brown wolf is running down the street.

"Whoa!" Jack slams on the brakes, causing him and Bro to lurch forward. Chase stays where he is. "Okay, there they are!"

Behind the wolf are several other people.

Bro catches himself on the dashboard and shakes out of his head. His eyes widen as he sees the wolf. "Oh- that's a biggg wolf!"

Then, he sees the familiar spark of Alt's magic and he grins. "Hey!" He gets out of the car and then uses some of his super speed and flying to grab Alt and scoops him off the ground into a hug. "Alt!"

Alt yelps and then squirms in the hug. "Chase! Jesus- why do you always tackle me??"

"Cuz what if you were in danger and just really needed a hug?" Bro says defensively but with a teasing edge. "Can't a big bro be worried for his lil brotherrr~?"

Alt rolls his eyes and pushes Bro's face away as he glitches out of his grip.

The wolf skids to a halt, looking at Bro flying in comical shock.

"Whoa!" Marvin jumps. "Wow. Jeez." He takes a moment to get his breath back. "Was not expecting... the flying."

Alt, you didn't mention that, JJ says.

"Or the speed," Schneep says. Unlike Marvin, he and JJ are not breathing heavily.

Alt blinks, "I swore we said he was a superhero-"

"Yeah but I only mentioned he could fly with Schneep and other me." Jackieboy pants, also out of breath.

"I'm full of surprises!" Bro says cheerfully. "Hi everyone! I'm Chase- but you guys can call me Bro so other me doesn't get confused!"

Jack opens the car door. "Hey guys."

"Hello, Jack," Schneep says cheerfully. "I see you found someone!"

"Yeah, he showed up in our house. He freaked Chase out, and then Chase freaked him out. Oh, Chase came with, by the way."

And yet, Chase is not visible in the backseat.

Bro laughs as Jack tells the others of their encounters, "Oh yeah he scared the beejesus out of me! But, he's pretty cool!" He then blinks and looks around, "Oh uh- where did he go??"

"What is he like- invisible or something?" Jackieboy jokes.

Jackie shifts back from wolf form slowly. He winces, pressing a hand to the worst of his burns. "I know you're kidding, but yeah, Chase can do that. He disappears. Actually, more accurate to say he appears, because invisible is the default state for--"

"Ohhhh," Schneep says slowly. "Chase, you do not want to shock them, do you?"

A voice comes from just outside the car. "Yeah, I think you guys should explain, first."

"Right, yeah, we never mentioned that, did we?" Marvin says. "Uh... Chase is a ghost."

Alt and Jackie exchange looks and then look back at the others.

"Like... because he...?" Alt asks quietly, afraid to say the whole sentence.

"Y-Yes but- not in the way you two must be thinking. They're actually trying to find out why it happened cuz other me doesn't remember! But, he's really chill!" Bro explains with a shaky smile.

"Oh... well-" Jackieboy says, "at least we know. It's okay, Chase, you don't need to hide."

"Are you sure?" Chase asks. "People get really freaked out."

"Better to just rip the plaster off, I think," Jackie says, shrugging.

"Real quick explanation," Jack says. "Ghosts still have the sign of their death on them, especially if they were killed. So you're going to see some blood. And sometimes parts of them don't appear, they just fade away."

Come on, Chase, I'm sure it's fine, JJ says.

"...okay." And then Chase appears, slowly fading in. He looks just like he did when Bro first saw him.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Marvin jumps. "Eyes, Chase, the eyes!"

"God damn it. Sorry." Chase blinks, and his eyes appear as well.

Alt and Jackie do jump a bit at seeing the eyes. But, they try their best to calm down. Though, they look at Chase's wound with trepidation. Not as much as Bro had when he first saw though.

"T-Thanks for the warning guys," Jackie says. "Nice to meet you, other Chase."

"Yeah- for sure," Alt says, looking a bit spooked still but trying to hide it. It's just- hard seeing the splitting image of your brother... dead.

Chase smiles shakily. "Nice to meet you, too. Weird to see a shorter version of Jackie."

"...Am I that much shorter??" Jackieboy asks, looking at his other self.

"Yeah, sorry." Jackie is about half a head taller than his counterpart. "Don't feel bad about it, you get a growth spurt when you turn into a werewolf, I'm pretty sure I was your height before that."

"Fucking! Magic bullshit!" Jackieboy cries, throwing his hands up in the air. Bro and Alt laugh.

Then Chase looks at Alt. "So... you're my brother in another universe? That probably explains your expression. Don't worry, I'm used to people freaking out."

"You get used to it," Jack says, leaning back against the car seat. "I've seen ghosts all my life, they're freaky, but mostly harmless."

"Gee, thanks," Chase says.

Alt flushes a bit and gives him a weak smile. "Uh... yeah sorry- just... hard to see. But, not your fault."

"He's not freaky! He's cool!" Bro says, putting his hands on his hips.

Chase laughs, the sound strange and echoey. "Thanks, Bro. That does make me feel better."

"So." Marvin folds his arms. "Now that we're all together, we have to find that Magnificent guy."

"How bad is this guy, anyway?" Jack asks.

"He almost burned down the Harvest Moon," Schneep states.

"...he's pretty fucking bad," Alt mutters, "Now that he knows there's magic around... he's gonna be looking for a source of it."

Marvin bragged earlier that he's the most powerful witch in the city, JJ says, Marvin smiling behind him as he signs it. And that means Magnificent might go after him?

"There are a lot of witches around, though, right?" Chase says.

"I know there are quite a few in the hospital," Schneep says. "To help with magical injuries."

"The most magic in the city would probably be at City Hall or the library," Jack says. "City Hall is where the Night Council meets, so there's sure to be a lot of witches there. And the library has a secret stock supply of magical texts."

"He'd go to a place with more magicians... he drains people of their magic to use for himself," Alt says darkly. "He doesn't care who he has to hurt to get it."

"Maybe... he got pretty beat up by those wolves in the pub though," Jackie points out.

"Oh really? Fuck yeah!" Bro grins.

"Hell yeah!" Jackie punches the air. "We're great, aren't we? That's my pack! Heartwoods 7 for the win!"

Bro and Jackieboy laugh at Jackie's enthusiasm.

Schneep rolls his eyes and looks at the visitors from the other world. "Heartwoods is the name of an apartment complex. Floor 7 is all werewolves, it's one big pack that Jackie's a part of. He's really excited about it."

"Of course I am, they're like, my best friends," Jackie says.

"Should I be offended?" Jack mutters.

"Besides you guys."

"Aaaanyway," Marvin says. "I say we check out the library first. City Hall has witches, but it has wolves and vamps, too. The library is pretty much only witches. Or, I mean, the secret section is. Anyone can go to the library itself."

Much easier to get into the library, too, JJ adds.

Alt nods to Marvin and JJ, "Yeah... that's a good place to start at least. ...I'll know when we find him."

"Alright... everyone who can't teleport, get in, then," Jack says, indicating the car. "We'll meet the rest of you there."

"Yay! No more running!" Jackieboy cheers, happily heading towards the car.

Bro pouts, remembering he shouldn't be flying. "Okayyy back to the car-"

Alt can't help but snicker- knowing Bro hated how slow cars were too. "Don't worry bro, I'm sure the time will just fly by~"

"Yer so mean to me!"

"It's gonna be a tight fit," Jackie says. "That comes out to... other me, Schneep, other Chase, Chase, and me."

"Well I'm not really there," Chase says, passing his hand through the car as an example.

"Yeah, but you do make things cold where you float."

"It is not the cold I mind, it is the static electricity," Schneep mutters.

"Chase, if you're okay with it, I can just summon you to the location," Marvin offers.

Chase shrugs. "Fine by me. I can explore the city some more."

Great, that means there's just enough seats for the rest of you, then, JJ says.

"I call front," Jackie says, climbing into the passenger seat before anyone can object.

"We're keeping the window rolled up," Jack says jokingly.

Bro and Jackieboy laugh and get inside the car. But, Bro makes sure to knock Alt in the shoulder playfully and give him a soft smile. "Don't do anything reckless until we get there, alright?"

Alt chuckles and nods, "I'll try my best. See you guys soon."

"Everyone buckle up," Jack says. Then he puts the car in gear and drives off.

Marvin looks at Alt. "Let's go, then." He holds out his hand for the teleportation.

I'll see you there, JJ says, and walks into a shadow and disappears.

Alt nods and takes Marvin's hand, glitching them towards the library.

----------

Magnificent appears on a city street with tall buildings all around. Offices, it looks like. Some of their windows are lit up in whites and yellows as the late shift works, but many are dark. Street lights shine circles of white light on the sidewalk and road.

Magnificent staggers and leans up against the closest surface he can, biting back curses and he grips at his bitten arm. Fucking mutt...! He needs a power source... fast. He's running dangerously low... and he's ravenous. His eyes search around the area, trying to find the biggest source of magic around.

There are pockets of magic all over the city, all varied in the way they feel. There are a couple distant sources of powerful magic, but the closest source nearby seems to be on the street corner. Coming from what looks like a small restaurant or convenience store.

Magnificent is past the point of thinking rationally right now- he's in pain and starving. He stumbles into the store.

At first glance, it looks like a normal corner store, with various items on sale and rows of aisles with snacks and small items for sale. But it's an illusion. Magnificent can see the wares ripple, their images briefly falling away to show more fantastical things beneath them. Strange plants and bottles of glowing liquids and lots of crystals. Behind the counter is an older woman with red hair, a few white strands mixed in. She's a witch, and the magic in her burns as fiery as her hair does.

"Oh, uh, welcome!" she says. "Um... can I help you?"

Magnificent chuckles deliriously and bares his fangs at the woman. "Why... yes, my dear. You can." He then teleports behind her and tries to grab her from behind, aiming to drain as much magic from her as possible.

The older woman gasps. She reaches into her pocket for something and her skin suddenly gets really hot, to the point of burning Magnificent. But--he still drains her. And she soon slumps over the counter unconscious.

Magnificent hisses at the burn but- no consequence. He has magic flowing through him again. But- its still not enough.

"Ella, was that someone?" A man with black hair and a beard comes from a door behind the counter. He's magic too, this one feeling cloudy and electric. He sees the sight and gasps, pulling a wooden wand off a display hanging on the wall.

Like a vicious animal Magnificent turns towards the man, grinning wide as the light catches his unnatural eyes. In a flash he teleports so he's in front of the man, lashing out to grab his face and drain him too.

The man cries out, trying to aim the wand at Magnificent. A bolt of lightning fires from the tip but misses Mag by a hair, and soon he slumps as well.

Magnificent lets the man drop to the floor and then throws his head back with laughter. He studies his veins as they glow with stolen power- and he starts to feel more full. He giggles and feels more like himself. There was always room for more but for now, he's satiated. He hums as he now takes in the tiny store, lookin over the trinkets- searching for anything else of use.

"Damn. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?"

What the hell? The store had been empty before, but now, there's a man in the corner, lurking in the spot where a large shelf casts a shadow on the wall. He's dressed in all black, from the overlarge black leather jacket, to the black tank top with "Bite Me" written on it in red, to the black ripped skinny jeans, to the tall black boots whose soles lend him at least an inch of height. His hair is brown and messy, and his eyes are blue with a ring of green around the pupil. Silver rings cover his fingers, and his pale skin has a gray tint to it.

Magnificent freezes and then whips around, lighting his hands on fire as he growls towards the voice. He glares at the man, then stops, finding himself momentarily confused. "...Alt?" But he gets over his confusion quickly. His cub wouldn't dress like that.

He stands up and regards the man coolly, but keeps magic at his fingertips. "...You look like someone I know, Who might you be?"

"I've gone by a lot of names," the man says, walking towards Magnificent. "These days I like Anti. Short and to the point. But now that you know me, I gotta know you. Who are you?" His eyes flick up and down, scanning Magnificent. "You look like a witch, even a witch I know, but there's no fucking way a witch can do that fucking shit." He gestures at the unconscious witches.

Magnificent chuckles, "Of course you are." He shakes his head then holds himself taller, "I am Magnificent. I'm more than a mere witch. I'm a sorcerer from another universe."

Anti's eyebrows raise into the air. "Ohhhh. Okay, so you're either one of those crazy cult witches, or you're telling the truth and those crazy cult witches are right. But honestly, I'm gonna guess the second one. Cause again. What the fuck was that." He walks around Magnificent and starts checking out the unconscious witches.

Magnificent laughs, shaking his head. "Even simpleton mortals can guess true things, it seems." He glances at the bodies of the witches and grins wickedly. "I siphoned their power to use as my own. It's a crude method- I have a more elegant ritual back in my own world but... too little time to do that here." He grips at his injured arm again and growls, "Plus... the beasts made me waste power... I was too hungry. Fucking hate that feeling..."

Anti glances back at Magnificent, looking down at the injury on his arm. "Werewolves? Yeah, they fucking suck." He pointed at one of the shelves. "The bottles with green stuff inside are healing potions. You're lucky it's not a full moon, I doubt even sorcerers from other worlds are immune to lycanthropy."

Mag's eyes widen at this and he hurriedly teleports to the shelves and grabs the potions, downing them quickly.

They taste like lemonade with a weird plant-like taste mixed in. His arm starts to tingle around the injury, and his skin slowly starts knitting together.

"Don't drink too many," Anti calls. "You'll get sick." He crouches down by the unconscious man, leaning in close to his neck. When he pulls away, he looks a little less pale than he did before, and there's a red substance on the inside of his lips that he licks off. He then stands up and watches Magnificent, curious.

Magnificent stops once he feels the wound close altogether and he flexes his arm to make sure its healed. He sighs in relief and then glances back at Anti. He tilts his head curiously, studying him back. "...You're a vampire." He then looks back down at Anti and snorts, "That would explain the fashion sense."

"Heh. Catch on quick." Anti smiles, flashing the fangs. "Most people think the fashion thing is just a gimmick I'm doing. Even if I was to tell them, they'd just be like 'yeah, sure kid, that's cute,' and not realize that I'm older than them and not joking." He leans back against the counter. "So. What're you doing here, then? If you're from a whole 'nother world?"

Magnificent laughs. He leans up against one of the walls, "Well... that's the thing. Usually when my annoyances prance into other universes I try to tag along but... this time I had no idea. And I still ended up in one. And now well... I won't look a gift horse in the mouth." He grins sinisterly, "So many worlds to see... magic to steal, copycats to kill. It's all too much fun to pass up~"

Anti nods. "Cool. So... annoyances? Lemme guess, there are other people from other worlds here too, and they hate you."

"Yes. A bunch of dirty do-gooders who thwart my plans constantly. A duo of brothers. And... well. The human they cart around. The brothers pose a significant threat but the human is useless."

"They always are," Anti agrees. "Alright. I know all that now. Are you gonna go try to find these guys and stop them? Maybe kill them?"

"Mmm... mayhaps. Usually I go to find my other self and drain them- especially since most have unique magic. And knowing my cub... he's probably already found him." Magnificent grins, "But of course- if there's a bigger source to steal or even control then... that will also do nicely~"

"Yeah, I think I know your other self. He's... an 'annoyance.'" Anti snickers. "So. Can I come?"

Magnificent blinks and then grins, "... I don't see why not. It might prove useful to have an ally so versed in this world~" He laughs.

"Hell yeah." Anti grins wide, stretching his arms above his head. "I was so bored. So where are we gonna go, Mag? You want a big source of magic? I know a couple."

“Ideally yes.” Magnificent giggles. “And a bigger source means common knowledge.. meaning we’ll lead all our annoyances to one spot~!”

"Alright. In that case, we could go to City Hall, or to the library," Anti says. "Those are the two biggest spots. Tons of magical shit, a lot of witches go there. Library might be better, if we break into City Hall the whole Night Council is gonna show up, and I don't think we should start with something that fucking big."

“Hm… no. I already caused quite the scene in a pub earlier. As fun as it would be to take down something called the Night Council- I think subtly is best at first.” Magnificent chuckles. He then gestures at Anti. “Well then, Anti. Care to lead the way?”

"Fucking 'course, Mag." Anti flashed another fanged smile. "Hope you're fast." And with that, he ran out of the shop.

Magnificent is not expecting him to just- run. But he does laugh and teleport after him.

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

The public library is a big box of a building, with a pair of stone statues out in front. One depicts a woman with bird wings--an angelic figure--and the other depicts a creature with large bat wings--some sort of gargoyle. There are benches out front, too, and it's here where Marvin, JJ, and Alt wait for the others.

"Hang on a moment," Marvin says, tracing a circle on the ground with a stick and drawing some weird squiggly lines inside. The ground isn't soft, and the end of the stick isn't marked, but his movements still leave behind black lines. "I gotta summon Chase."

Alt glitches closer and watches curiosity, tilting his head. “…never seen a ghost summoning before.”

"It might be different in your world, if a way exists at all," Marvin says. "But here it's pretty simple if you're a witch. You just gotta draw these runes along the edges and the radiuses...radia? Radi? I dunno. And then in the center you write down the runes symbolizing who you're calling. It's easier for stronger spirits, and Chase is probably the strongest spirit I've ever seen. Weirdly so. That's why I think some necromancy bullshit went down with his death."

Alt blinks in surprise, “Really? That strong huh? Hm… yeah that’s… hm.”

Marvin pulls his mask down over his face and taps the circle three times. On the third, the black lines light up. Marvin chants something in Irish. "An dtiocfaidh spiorad Chase Brody amach." A beam of light shoots up from the center of the circle, and ghost Chase slowly fades into existence.

Alt glitches a bit at the beam of light and then smiles as Chase appears.

Chase steps out of the beam of light--though maybe it's more like 'drifts' out--and looks around. "Been a while since I've been here," he says. "Y'know, libraries are great. I never really thought about it before."

Alt looks back at the library and smiles, “Libraries are great. Good place to go if you need someplace warm too.”

Marvin swipes his foot across the edge of the circle. "Hey, Chase."

"Hey." Chase leaves the circle through the bit Marvin cleared--it must have been working as a barrier. "Hi Alt. Hi JJ."

Alt grins and waves too, “Yo~!”

JJ smiles and waves. Good to see you. We still have some time until the others reach here.

"Oooo, y'know what we could do, then?" Marvin pulls out a deck of cards in a clear plastic case.

Alt blinks at Marvin and then grins excitedly and glitches to be next to him on the bench. “Tarot reading!!”

“Exactly!” Marvin says excitedly.

“Oooo,” Chase says, sounding very much like a stereotypical ghost. “I’ve never seen you do one.”

I suppose we did have some downtime after all, JJ says.

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin smiles at Alt. “So, what do you want to try? I can do a three card or five card fortune telling, a love reading, a personality assessment—a whole bunch of stuff.”

“Hmmm…” Alt puts his fingers on his chin to think. “…I dunno man. Whatever you wanna give me I guess! I’m curious just in general!”

“Alright. Hmm, I like doing personality assessments for new people.”

You did that with me, I remember, JJ says.

“Yep.” Marvin spreads the cards out on the bench between him and Alt. The backs of them are blue, with silver designs that look like crystals around the edges and an eye on the center. “You’ll need to pick five cards for this. For this first one, think about how other people think of you. Especially your friends and family.”

Alt nods and tries to think of that. Hmmm Chase calls him prickly. Which is accurate. He’s a bit cautious about new people and being touched sometimes. But he also knows his friends see him as kind- even if he felt he didn’t deserve that sometimes. He goes to draw a card.

When he flips it over, the card has an illustration of a man in medieval-type clothing with a hood pulled over his head, holding a bow and arrow towards the sky. The card is upside down, but Alt can read the words "The Hood."

"Ah, the Hood, a rebellious figure," Marvin says. "When it's reversed like that, it often means someone who's tough on the outside but has a heart of gold. Others see you as sometimes difficult to approach, but worth the trouble."

Alt chuckles and nods, “Yeah that sounds spot on.” Huh… the illustration reminds him of something… something fuzzy from another adventure. Why is it so hard to recall?

"For the next one, think of what you do," Marivn says. "You know, like hobbies and your job and such."

Alt thinks- is magic a hobby? Probably. But also he likes to tinker with things- he wants to learn how to build stuff with magic in them. And his shows- his illusions. Guess his life did kinda revolve around magic now. He draws the second card.

This one has an illustration of a man wearing a cat-like mask, one hand pointing up towards the sky and one pointing down to the ground. At his feet is a white cat with gray patches. It's titled "The Magician."

"Hey, same hat!" Marvin says, delighted. "The Magician is a force of will power and ambition. Someone who takes potential and makes it powerful. Your 'role', so to say, is often someone who likes making things happen, perhaps taking on big projects."

Alt beams and glitches slightly in place. “Yeah I like making things! Magic- art sometimes- I wanna figure out how to do like… I dunno- magic machines or something.” He shrugs.

"That guy in the picture has a mask like yours, Marvin," Chase says.

And that cat sort of looks like Higgins, JJ adds.

"Yeah, I've noticed. That's one of the reasons I bought this deck."

Alt looks at the cards closer and blinks, “oh yeah huh… I see it. That mask gets used a lot by other Marvins too.”

"Must be a universal constant," Marvin says. "Do you have a mask?"

Maybe that bandanna functions as one? JJ guesses.

Alt smiles timidly and fiddles with his mask. “Uh… yeah I guess mine in this one… not nearly as cool though. Dunno if I could get away with wearing a cat mask though.” He chuckles.

"Oh yeah. Well, anyway. For this next one, think of... it's hard to describe. Your power, your capabilities, things you can do. Sort of similar to the last one, but more like... like if you were pushed to a limit, what would that be like?" Marvin says.

Alt blinks and thinks of this new prompt. Pushed to his limit huh…? Brief flashes of his Phoenix form comes to mind- raging electricity and bright light. He feels like that fits more than well enough- so he draws another card.

The illustration of the card is bright and vivid, showing a silhouette that's breaking apart into pixels. Two green eyes shine in the dark face, and a long scarf winds around the figure's neck. The title is "The Glitch."

"Oooo, one of the last cards in the sequence," Marvin says. "Interesting, interesting. The Glitch--or the Error--is a figure who breaks the rules. Not intentionally like the rebellious Hood, it is just in its nature as a mistake. Either you don't think very highly of your abilities, or your abilities exist outside an established system, and are therefore very powerful."

Alt blinks in surprise. That looks like Anti from the IV universe. Scarf and all. Guess if Alt had to think of “glitch” he’d be the first one he’d think of. He laughs, “I think it’s a little bit of both?”

"You seem pretty capable to me," Chase says, giving Alt a small smile.

"Don't worry about yourself, Alt, I'm sure you can take care of yourself." Marvin nods, agreeing with Chase's statement.

Alt’s face turns a little red as he smiles shyly. “Heh.. thanks.”

"Alright. Second to last one. Think of your past. Who you used to be, how different you are now, and how it's all shaped you."

Alt’s smile fades a bit as he thinks about his past. Honestly? He doesn’t like thinking of it now… his present is so much better. His past was filled with so much hurt and hate… being Impulse, being lost on the streets… lonely and just so so angry. The him from back then felt like a completely different person now. With this in mind, he draws the card.

The card is a very simple illustration of a small child sitting cross-legged on the ground, a light shining down on them and protecting them from the darkness around. In their arms is a beat-up plushie of some sort of pink animal in a paper crown. The title is "The Orphan."

"I never liked that title," Marvin mutters. "The Orphan is someone who is lost, often without guidance and looking for a sense of safety or home. You probably spent a lot of time on your own, not sure what to do. I'm... sorry."

Alt stares at the card with a heavy feeling in his chest. He slowly nods. “…yeah…” He then looks up and tries to smile at Marvin, “I-it’s okay now though… I’m not alone anymore.”

You have your brother and your friends, right? JJ says. He smiles gently. You're very lucky. They seem great.

"I'm glad it's better now," Marvin says quietly. Then he clears his throat. "Alright. Last card. Think of the opposite of yourself. Something you don't want to be, with a personality composed of the worst qualities to you."

Alt’s eyes burn with hatred as one name comes to mind: Magnificent. Power hungry and obsessive, vindictive and hurting innocents. He also thinks of the King, even if it sends shivers down his spine. He would never be like them… controlling the weak and believing themselves to be like gods. With this in mind he draws the final card.

The card that he draws then depicts a man sitting at a banquet table filled with food, and yet his face is thin and sunken. There's something familiar about the static, tattered cape he's wearing. And the title? "Hunger."

"Ah." Marvin nods. "Hunger, a never-ending want for something, often coming with the ambition or arrogance to harm others to fulfill the want. So, you don't want to be the sort of person who reaches for power no matter the cost. That's a good thing to not want to be."

Alt feels his breath leave him as he sees the card. He’s- he’s seen this one before. Where? Where… It hits him like a ton of bricks.

He’s in a beautiful glowing forest, a tunic on and chainmail weighing on his arms and chest. He’s.. on the ground, playing a game with two fair folk. What were their names,..? Lasta and Caba. They call Mag and mu Rith the King the name of the card… Hunger.

Alt gasps slightly and grips at his head, his mind suddenly aching. He… He forgot so much from that journey. Seeing the card again brought some of it back.

Marvin blinks. "Are you alright, Alt?" he asks with surprising gentleness. He reaches out to touch him supportively--and in the process knocks some of the cards onto the ground. He glances down at them, frowning.

"Alt?" Chase asks. "Do you have a headache?"

Anything we can do? JJ asks, leaning a bit closer.

Alt snaps out of his thoughts as Marvin reaches out and he looks out at the others, glitching slightly. “Oh s-sorry I just…” He grips at his wrist and adds quietly. “…I’ve seen that card before but only once and… I didn’t… remember where until just now.” He laughs bitterly. “It… wasn’t a great experience. M-More dark magic shit so…” He smiles at the others, “But I’m okay. Really.”

JJ and Chase exchange glances. "Okay... if you're sure," Chase says. "Let us know if we can help."

"Yeah, we're happy to," Marvin says. He bends over and picks up the cards that fell. "But, um. Also... this is strange, but... the cards fell down in a rough row, that's not... how cards usually fall..."

JJ glances at him. Is this really the time for something like that?

"I'm just saying. If Alt's okay... I want to talk about it."

Alt blinks and then tilts his head at Marvin. “…a rough row? Huh… well-yeah sure. Go ahead.” Honestly, he could use the distraction.

Marvin nods. "Here. They were laid out like this." He lays them out in front of Alt, recreating it for him.

The Hero: A man in a red hoodie and black mask, standing atop a modern building.

Flood: A body of water, with rain falling from the sky into it. Beneath the surface are humanoid creatures with tails instead of legs.

The Doctor: A man in a white coat and glasses, sitting at a desk and looking thoughtful.

The Moon: A path leading from a body of water across a field, with a full moon looming large in the night sky.

The Hierophant: A man with dark hair and black eyes--though one is half green--sitting on an ornate chair.

The Shadow: Someone dressed in white standing against a wall, a black shadow cast behind them in mirror image.

Fracture: A colorful background broken by a black, branching crack.

Remembrance: A coffin, half black and half white, surrounded by monochrome roses.

"I... don't know what it means," Marvin says slowly. "Do they mean anything to you? I think... I think that this sequence is supposed to be significant."

Alt knits his eyebrows together in confusion, looking at the sequence. He tries not to shudder as he sees another card he remembers. “I’m… not sure actually… I mean… the first one kinda looks like a hero I know. And we did meet some mermen earlier… huh…”

"Mermen? Oooo, cooool," Chase says. "Hey, are merpeople real in this universe?"

"If they are, they don't interact with us at all," Marvin says. He stares at the sequence, tilitng his head. "...huh. If the first two seem familiar, maybe... maybe this is like a fortune telling for your journey. Probably more literal than most readings are. So, first was a world where you met a hero, then was a world of water, then was a world where... a doctor played a key part? Or maybe logic and science? And the moon is here."

That makes sense, JJ says. We're sometimes called people of the night, us witches and vampires and ghosts and such. The moon, the night, it fits.

"So these four will be your future," Marvin says. "Somewhere... traditional, or with strict rules. Somewhere with a... pairing? Or a rivalry? Somewhere broken, and somewhere connected to death, but not too connected to death, otherwise the Death card would've shown up."

Alt’s eyes widen. “The last world was very… doctor-y… that means… 4 out of 8… that’s like 50% right.” He pales slightly, looking at what is supposedly his future. “…so we’re not gonna get home for a while… huh…?” He doesn’t like the look of the future cards.

You never know, JJ says. You could go really fast through these worlds.

“Fortune telling isn’t an exact art, this could all be one big coincidence,” Marvin adds, putting the cards back into the deck. “A hell of a coincidence, but it’s possible. Readings have come out as bullshit before.”

“Even if it’s not, isn’t it nice to know what’s going to happen?” Chase asks. “To have a deadline, in some ways? Heh. Deadline. Cause… cause I’m a ghost.” He pauses.

Marvin and JJ stare at him.

“If I can’t make jokes about it, what can I do?” he says defensively.

Alt snorts at Chase's joke. "Yeah... I guess. Maybe we can be a bit more prepared. Guess we'll just have to see."

Marvin nods. “Always good to be prepared. Like I said, if I’m interpreting it right… somewhere with strict rules, somewhere with a rivalry or duality, somewhere all broken and probably not fun to be, and somewhere connected to death, or maybe memory. I dunno. Remembrance is a funny card, it usually means some sort of moment of clarity after a big change.”

Alt nods and tries to put that all into memory. "Sounds like it's gonna be a real fun time... goddamnit it Mag- I swear this is all his fault." He leans back and sighs but then laughs, "Then again... Visiting other worlds isn't always bad. We usually end up meeting really cool people." He smiles at the others.

Marvin smiles back. “Yeah. Maybe if you could find some way to come back without him, you could. I’d love to learn more about other worlds.”

You also love to prove that you’re right, JJ says. Especially to people who call you a crazy cult witch for believing in other worlds.

“I’ve never heard anyone in my life call me a crazy cult witch.” Marvin shuffles the cards absentmindedly.

Alt beams, "Oh I'm definitely saving this place to visit again! This is one of the coolest places yet! I wanna come back and learn so many things- and look around at your shop some more! Maybe you can even teach me to read the crystaleye cards!"

“Hell yeah, I’m up for talking cards any time,” Marvin grins.

Chase perks his head up, looking down the street. “Wait a minute. Is that…”

There’s a car barreling down the road. That does not look like a safe speed, JJ says.

“You think anything faster than ten miles an hour is an unsafe speed,” Marvin says. “Jack is just going a bit over the limit, it’s fine.”

“Bro, he just got his license, are you sure?” Chase says.

“It’s fiiiiine.”

Alt blinks and looks back where Chase is looking and then laughs. "Oh- Jackie is gonna be clinging on for dear life. He's a dad so- he's alll about safe driving."

Chase blinks. “Your Jackie is a dad? I am too! I mean, I was? I mean, kind of hard to be a dad as a ghost, but I still see Stace and Dec around—oh uh, Stacy my wife and Declan my son. I-I hope I can introduce them to all this someday. Or at least to this new me.”

Alt smiles, “Yeah- Jackie has 3 kids. Sweetest things. Though I swear Penny is gonna grow up to be a punk- she has that air to her.” He laughs. He smiles more gently at Chase, “I’m sure you’ll find a way, Chase. They’ll probably be happy to see you.”

The car pulls to a sudden halt outside of the library. Jackie—the Jackie from this world—is the first to get out. “Whoo!” he shouts. “That was so cool!”

Jackieboy tumbles out of the car, looking sick and pale. “N-Next time I’m driving- ohhh my god that was dangerous.”

Seems our Jackies are quite different in ways, JJ comments.

Alt laughs, looking at Jj, “For real.”

Bro hurries out of the car and grins. “Man what a rush!”

Schneep practically falls out of the car after Jackieboy does. “I am going to be sick,” he mutters. “You do not want a vampire to be sick, you will never get the bloodstain out.”

Bro helps Jackie get over, patting his back. "You're okay, buddy!" Jackieboy groans.

“Heheh… sorry,” Jack says, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t want the guys to be waiting too long. Not to mention how dangerous this guy sounds.”

“We’re all here now and that’s what matters!” Jackie says cheerfully. “Now we need to break into the library.”

“No, we don’t need to break into the library,” Marvin says, standing up. “There’s a secret way in.” He points at the gargoyle statue. “That’s enchanted. See?” He walk up to it and puts his hand on the side of the plinth the statue is on. And his hand sinks right through. “It’s an illusion.”

Alt perks up and glitches to be right by Marvin, seeing the illusion and grinning wide. "Oh cool!"

“I always wondered why there was a big hole in the side of the statue,” Jack says.

Marvin chuckles. “Right. You can see through them. It’s also enchanted that only people with magic can pass through the barrier. But I know a way to make an allowance for Jack and other Jackie.”

"I thought the library was public..."

"Probably not the magic part-" Bro comments.

Well even public libraries close at night, JJ says. But you’re right, the secret part is obviously not public.

Marvin runs a finger along the edge of the plinth, muttering some vaguely Gaelic sounding words, the eye tattoo on his hand glowing, and the whole illusion part of the plinth wavers and turns slightly green. “There, now everydays can get in for a short period of time.”

“You guys go on ahead,” Jack says. “I won’t be much use fighting an evil witch. I think it’s better if someone stays out here and keeps watch. I’ll text you if I see anything.”

Alt nods, "If you're sure."

Bro drags Jackie along. Jackie looks apprehensive but also curious. Alt grins and then leads his friends inside.

As soon as the group steps into the illusion, they suddenly find themselves stepping out of a door next to the library’s AV section. Some of the lights are off, casting the shelves of DVDs in shadow, but some of them are still on so everyone can see.

“There.” Marvin points down an aisle towards a set of elevator doors on the wall. “We need to get there. There’s a secret sixth floor.”

“Will the elevators even work at night?” Schneep asks, frowning.

“Of course. With maaaagic.”

"Do elevators ever turn off? Feel like that'd be a waste of electrcity," Jackieboy comments quietly.

"..huh- I never thought of that. Yeah why would an elevator need to shut off?" Bro thinks outloud.

Alt shakes his head, "Let's focus please?" He looks around and shivers a bit, "Though... the lights being off does make it feel kinda creepy in here."

"Creepy?" Jackie says, looking around. "It does?"

"Seems fine to me," Schneep says.

"Well Jackie can see in the dark and you haven't been in direct sunlight in fifteen years, so your standards are a bit fucked," Marvin says.

Alt laughs, "Yeah that does skew things a bit."

The group hurries over to the elevator. Jackie presses the call button and the doors open right away, so they all file in.

Once in the elevator, Alt glitches a bit anxiously.

Once the elevator doors close, Marvin taps on a spot above the floor five button. A glowing white circle appears with the number six on it, which he then presses. The elevator moves, and they wait.

Even magical lifts go slow, don't they? JJ comments. Unfortunate. You'd think they'd figure a way around that.

Bro laughs with JJ, "Dude yeah! If you can magical lifts why not make them like- teleport you or some shit?"

"Maybe some people just like the novelty of it." Jackieboy shrugs.

The elevator doors open again, revealing the secret library. It looks very similar to the library downstairs, with rows of bookcases, small sitting areas, a directory, and a circulation desk. But the style is different. Instead of metal bookcases and modernized chairs and tables, there are heavy wooden bookcases and older-styled sofas and tables. The lighting here is soft yellow-orange, and everything seems to have an art noveau design to it to match the patterns on Marvin's shirt.

The directory lists subjects like "Spellcasting" "Witch Theory" and "Biographies (200+ yr lifespans)".

Behind the half-circle circulation desk is a big illustration of a tree with many branches, all labeled with different words. For example, a Nature branch has an Elemental branch coming from it, which has a Water branch, which has an Ocean branch.

There are a surprising amount of people up here for a library that was so empty in the floors beneath. A man behind the circulation desk waves at them as they come in as he scans a book titled "History of Night Councils."

Alt's eyes start to sparkle as he looks around the library, his smile only getting wider. HIs shoulder buzz and pop with electricity and glitches but he tries to keep himself contained since there's so many people. "L-Look at all of this!!"

"Uh oh- Alt's enamored," Bro snickers.

"Shuddup I didn't give you a hard time in the hero world!"

Chase laughs. "No, I agree, it's so cool to see, isn't it? Even if I don't understand all of it. But... we need to focus. We need to warn these people about Magnificent."

Marvin nods. "Jackie, come on, we're talking to this circulation guy."

"What?" Jackie says. "Why me?"

"Because you're better at talking to people than I am and also those burns will help sell how serious the situation is."

Jackie sighs. "Okay, fine."

Alt shakes out of his awe and goes to follow after Jackie and Marvin, "I can try to help to!"

Outside, Jack sits in his car with the power off, trying to make it look empty. He glances up from his phone to scan the area--and sees someone suddenly appear out of the shadows. And someone else suddenly appears next to them, teleporting into view. "Oh shit," he whispers, and starts writing a text. He hopes it will reach them in time.

"This is the place," Anti says to Magnificent. "There's a secret floor on the top where all the witches and shit hang out."

Magnificent dusts himself off as he stands tall and eyes the library. Oh... he can already feel the magic brimming within and he grins wide, his eyes glowing. "Excellent. We should pay them a visit~"

Anti grins back. "We should. I never liked these uppity fucks. They think they're greater than they actually are. I think the floor is warded against teleporting, so we'll have to go through the library the usual way. Though it's not really all that usual, actually. There's a secret passage here." He walks up to the gargoyle plinth, demonstrating the illusory side much like Marvin did for the others earlier.

Magnificent follows after and then snorts at the magic, "Ah, so simple." He chuckles, "Let's go then~" He heads inside.

#SATCV #SATCV SC #Alt anti #swap magnificent #jackie mann #bro fantastic #godd love the worldbuilding so much #and the tarot card stuff was so fun!#and actually there's a hint to a rp we did before this that we can't publish yet cuz fm needs to get farther along but :)#if you see alt mentioning the king a lot thats why ahgvajhb #i love the crystaleye cards we use them a lot they're cry's version of tarot cards and theyre so cool!!#also? writing mag being desperate and like magic hungry was really fun ajghak

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