#oc: luce locke

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

Girls Night Out :)

Luce, Augustava @fistfuloftarenths, and Tayvin @captainsigge having a team bonding moment after we've learned we all share one thing in common: Our hatred for faux-Bards.

Edit: I was talking when I was writing my post so I forgot my credits. Q_Q Lovely Zhent Hideout Screenshots by @captainsigge

[idc4987]

The Cursed Queen | Velaryon!oc x Targaryen brothers

Aenessa Velaryon, first of her name, first of her title and first child to Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenerya Targaryen, the future heir to the Iron Throne.

Where respect was deserved, Aenessa Velaryon was hated. She was the realm's crowning achievement for the movement's against her mother's claim to the throne, truly the cherry on top of the cake that fuelled everyone's hate for Rhaenerya Targaryen. It turned her into the laughing stock of the monarchy. 'Rhaenerya the Cursed' they called her. Cursed for having a daughter as her eldest child, cursed for having a daughter who was 'mad'. Cursed for having a child.

And as all things did, that curse was passed onto Aenessa. Courts whispered gossip about her, even when she was a young girl. How she'd wake in a fit of screams nearly every night, how she'd shake like a leaf at any given moment. They would snort at how "vain" she was for always having her hair up and off of her shoulders in thick white dreadlocks, or wishing to dress in only certain materials that she found comfortable. Lords would even complain at how modest her dresses were as though it were normal to peer at young girls.

Despite the ridicule, Aenessa Velaryon grew up where she belonged. A princess. And with her best friend and uncle, the deplorable, the barbaric, the perverted Aegon Targaryen right at her side. A boy who was also followed by gossip and rumours as if it were a funny smell.

Regardless of his own arrogance, Aegon was besotted with the 'cursed' child. Being around her bought out a side of Aegon nearly no one had witnessed. He was softer, kinder. Even quieter.

To the realm, Aenessa was a curse. To Lady Alicent, she was a blessing.

With only a moon's difference between them, the two shared everything. The same crib as babes, the same Maesters as children and, on one occasion, the same clothes. (This was only ever once as Aegon mocked Aenessa for her complaints about how tight her corset was, which lead him to howl in pain the moment he tried it on.)

Once the tensions began in their house with their fighting mother's, the two friends were dragged apart. Aenessa to stay in Dragonstone and Aegon to stay in Kings Landing. Years pass, the children grow and tensions ease. But Aenessa and Aegon were still both still tormented by their last moments together.

The last burning memory of one another.

The legitimacy of Aenessa's younger brothers, Jace and Luce, had been bought to question by Aegon's younger brother, Aemond. If it weren't for all the blood, Aenessa would have gladly admitted how satisfied she was to see the young boy get what he deserved. She knew full well that Jacerys and Lucerys did not look like her. They had their Mother's pale skin and dark hair from a certain Lord Strong. A stark contrast to Aenessa's tanned, dark skin and white locks. But despite her awareness, it gave no one the right to call her family bastards and get away with it.

Aemond was still whimpering in pain as his eye was stitched up and Lucerys wincing as his sister attempted to wipe the blood from his nose. After every dab, it seemed as though more appeared. Aenessa had to bite her tongue to avoid losing the contents of her stomach.

Their Grandsire loomed over Aemond like a dark cloud. "You tell me boy, where did you hear this lie?" Lady Alicent attempted to excuse the incident over 'boys being boys'. Viserys wouldn't hear a word of it. "I asked you a question, Aemond."

"Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys Father? Perhaps he has something to say on the matter." Aenessa hadn't noticed it then, but Alicent was desperate to push the focus off of her son. And her Grandsire was stupid enough to follow it.

"Yes, where is Ser Laenor?" Viserys asked aloud, annoucing the question to the room.

Aenessa glanced nervously up at her Mother. She hadn't seen her Father since dinner. "I do not know, Your Grace. I could not find sleep, I had gone for a walk." Rhaenerya explained, equally as nervous.

"Entertaining his squires, I would venture." Lady Alicent jested, a manic smirk on her lips. No one joined in on her hysterics.

Viserys turned back to his son. "Aemond.." The boy glared back at him, a slither of fear evident on his face. "I demand an answer. Your king demands an answer." Viserys spoke as though the past question had been sweet and endearing. "Who spoke these lies to you?"

Aemond looked from his Father, the king, and then to his Mother before he finally admitted who had told him. "It was Aegon."

If Aenessa had been any further away, she would have missed the quiet uttering of his name. "Me?" The handkerchief slipped from her hand as Aenessa's attention averted to her closest friend.

Viserys stalked towards him. "And you, boy. Where did you hear such columnies?" He belittled his eldest son into answering his question.

"We know, Father." Aegon whispered, a void of emotion on his face. "Everyone knows." Aenessa wanted to tear her own eye out if it meant never hearing how he truly felt. "Just look at them. All of them." But, strangely, it felt like cathartic relief as disgust overtook Aegon's features. Had he been lying to her all these years?

Aenessa was the proud sister of two bastard boys and Aegon had been masquerading as her friend, secretly hating her. Maybe it was better to know the truth. Even when that truth ruined her.

Escaping to Dragonstone was a momentary relief for Aenessa. She could push aside her troublesome thoughts and treat it as a break from normal life. But Aenessa life had never been normal, she was 'cursed' after all.

*Part One* / *Part Two*

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 11: Don't Look Back

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy tries to convince her family to move to someplace safer, but her brother was never one to make things easy for her.

Word Count: 4,605

Notes: I apologize for how long it’s taken me to update Lucy’s series, but I’m back! Warnings for depictions of minor character deaths, religious fanaticism, murder, blood, violence, and references to past sexual assault.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part

Chapter 1: We All Fall Down

Lucy did not like London.

The city itself was fine. But the memories that the place drudged up left her on edge, nerves shot. And the closer she got to that…place, that narrow little alleyway, the closer she tattered towards an emotional meltdown.

Her mother’s home, the home she’d spent a large share of her teenage and early adult years in, was not all that far from that place.

It was with a heave of will that she pushed down the jitteriness building within her, and braved to walk those familiar roads, winding her way to the family home she’d lived in since they’d moved from Birmingham to London while in her teens. The gray stone looked perhaps the tiniest bit more beaten up than before, but everything else seemed to be utterly unchanging; right down to the street lights and moss growing over the sides of the house.

There weren’t a lot of great memories waiting for her inside.

Stealing her nerves and drawing in a deep breath, she rapped her fist twice against the wooden door. There was the sound of footsteps on the other side, then the clicks of locks being undone, and finally the door swept open.

“Lucy,” Teddy grinned at her, his head of red locks overgrown and messy. He pulled her into a great hug that squeezed her ribs.

“Hey, Teddy,” she smiled, stretching on her toes to ruffle her little brother’s hair.

“Come on in,” he stepped aside to let her inside. The interior of the house smelled like freshly baked biscuits. Very little had changed, since she’d last been there. The decor was all the same, with books and photographs crammed into every tiny space, the red and green rug faded, even the couch and armchairs in the living room were in the exact same placements as the last time she’d visited.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, shedding her coat and hat to hang on a hook.

“Not bad. You?”

“Busy,” she said. Teddy offered her another grin.

“I bet. I’ve got some more stuff for you and Thomas. Remind me before you leave and I’ll get it for you.”

“Great, thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Tommy says thanks too.” 

“Glad to hear that the boss is happy,” he shot her a conspiratorial look. “Mum’s in the kitchen.”

“Hey,” her voice dropped in volume, catching his arm before he could turn to lead her to the kitchen in the back of the house. “Have you made any progress in getting them to move?”

Teddy’s smile fell. “Mum’s open to it, but…”

“Lucy.”

Her heart sank, turning to the stairs, where Elliot was standing with his hands in his pockets, lips pressed in a firm line.

“Hi, Elliot.”

“What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “We’re in the city on business. Thought I’d come by to say hi.”

“We?” he asked. Lucy swallowed roughly.

“Me and my boss.”

“Hm.”

“Luce, come one. Come say hi to Mum,” Teddy said, tugging on her arm, steering her towards the kitchen and away from Elliot.

The kitchen was warm, pots and pans soaking in water in the sink, a kettle on the stove.

“Hi, Mum.”

Her mother was a short, slender woman, with long, curly dark red hair and green eyes that matched those of all her children. Her hair fell nearly to her waist, flowing loosely. Her eyes were lined with dark makeup, an obscene amount of rings and bracelets adorning her slim hands. 

“Lucy!” she flung her arms around her only daughter in a bone crushing hug, shockingly strong for a woman so small. “Oh, my baby girl. It’s so good to see you. What are you doing in London?”

“Just a quick business thing.”

“You should have said! You and your friends are always welcome to stay here!”

Behind her, she heard Elliot scoff, brushing past her to remove the whistling kettle from the stove.

“Have you been alright?” Lucy asked, shifting from foot to foot, choosing to ignore her brother.

“Oh, yes, yes of course.”

Nodding, Lucy leaned awkwardly against the wall, then wetted her lips. “Listen, Mum, there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, here we fucking go,” Elliot growled out. 

“Elliot, please,” her mother scolded, then turned attentively back to Lucy. “What is it?”

Her foot tapped anxiously against the floor. “There have been some things happening with the company lately, and I think that it would be better…safer for everyone, if maybe you and Teddy and Elliot all came up to Birmingham for a while.”

Her mother’s brows pinched. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said quickly. “Yes, of course, there’s just…there’s some things that are going to start happening here, and Tommy and I both think that it would be for the best if you got out of the city for a while.”

Her mother wasn’t stupid, nor were her brothers. But she’d never had the heart to fully tell them the truth of what she had been up to all these years in Birmingham. Teddy knew more than the other two, but not everything. Surely, her mother had to have heard the rumors, maybe even seen things in the paper, and she clearly knew that the kind of work Lucy had been doing for Tommy was morally dubious at best. But they’d never talked about it openly.

“You want us to come to Birmingham?” her mother asked, slowly. Lucy nodded.

“Just for a little while.”

“Oh, well, I suppose that would be alright–”

Elliot took a sip of the tea he’d been brewing while she got through her proposal.

“I’m not going to Birmingham,” he said. Lucy’s head snapped around to him.

“It doesn’t have to be Birmingham. You could go on holiday, all three of you. Go to…to America. You’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty, right Mum? I’ll pay for it–”

“No,” Elliot set down his teacup and saucer. “I mean, that I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”

She felt her temper begin to crackle under her skin. “Elliot, it’s not safe–”

“Why not?”

Her jaw set furiously. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“For fucks sake, Elliot, could you just once do what I goddamn ask you to–”

“Don’t speak to your brother like that, Lucy,” her mother said.

“I’m not going,” Elliot finished off his tea, heading to the backdoor. “And that’s final.”

Lucy watched him go helplessly, hands hanging at her sides. “Okay, well, we can at least get you and Teddy set up at…” she trailed off at the look on her mother’s face. “Mum?”

“Lucy, I can’t leave without Elliot.”

“Mum, please–”

“I’m sorry.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Teddy, who gave her a sad, helpless shrug. A furious, frustrated growl rumbled in her throat.

“Stay here,” the back door slammed shut behind her after she pushed it open and stepped through it, storming towards where Elliot was bending over a little garden they had on the backside of the house. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m not leaving my home without good reason.”

“Oh and is you might get fucking killed not a good enough reason for you?”

“Who might kill us?” he asked. “Why would they kill us?” his eyes narrowed. “Do you even have any answers? Or are you just following the orders of your boss up in Birmingham?”

“I can’t tell you without compromising–”

“You know, I’ve been reading about all of the shit he’s done, the past few years. The shit that you’ve done,” he was suddenly right up in her face. “The Devil. That’s what they call him up there, right? That’s what they’re starting to call him down around here now, too. You might’ve sold your soul to him, but I’m not about to let the rest of us be dragged down with you.”

“You don't know what you’re talking about.”

Elliot leaned back, eyes gleaming cruelly. “I know what you did. What you still do. If there is anyone who this family needs protecting from, it’s you, Lucy,” he licked his lips. “You’re a monster, a demon wearing human skin–”

“Can you please stop it with the melodramatics?”

“Oh? So you're not the one that they call the Red Demon up in Birmingham?” 

She went silent, looking at him in quiet calculation. Elliot scoffed.

“None of this would have happened if you’d just stayed and done what you were told.”

“Excuse me?”

“You should have stayed here and married Matthew.”

Bile rose up in her throat at the very thought. “You would say that, knowing what he did to me?”

“It would have been better than you giving yourself away to the fucking Devil,” the next look Elliot shot her way was one of pure disgust. “I know that you’re fucking him,” at her shocked look, he laughed, humorlessly. “Please. The innocent act only works on Teddy and Mum. Not on me.” 

Crossing her arms around herself, Lucy stared at him with silent dread. He sounded so much like their father, it was as if he was standing right in front of her. The very thought had a chill running up her spine. “I’ll have Tommy place protection outside the house. If you won’t leave.”

“No. We don’t need him.”

“Elliot, I’m trying to keep you all safe you daft fucking idiot!”

“If I even think that I see Peaky Blinders outside this house, I’ll chase them off with Teddy’s revolver myself,” he looked at her hatefully. “You know I’ll do it.”

“You’re going to get you all killed.”

“No, I think that would be more your fault than mine,” he turned back to the garden.

A stab of hatred flooded over her, lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. “Fuck you,” she hissed at him, fighting back the desire to strangle him, spinning on her heel, she began to walk towards the back door of the house.

“Dad was right, you know,” Elliot’s voice called to her from across the yard. “You really are nothing but a fucking slut.”

Her steps staggered, the breath punched from her chest for a moment at the words, throat constricting. It took a controlled, deep intake of breath to stave off the tears suddenly building behind her eyes.

She didn’t allow them to fall until she bid Teddy and her mother goodbye, walking down the gray streets all alone. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Tommy was in the washroom when he heard Lucy come in, key unlocking the hotel room before the door opened, then closed behind her. Drawing the razor across his jaw in careful, calculated movements, he finished shaving his face, wiping the remnants of shaving cream off, splashing some water on his face, wiping over his chest, then drying off and pulling his shirt back on.

When he stepped out into the hotel room, Lucy had folded herself onto the windowsill, legs hugged to her chest, fingers pressed to her mouth as she stared out the window at the rapidly darkening city. Night would be upon them soon.

“Luce?”

She coughed. “Teddy collected some more information for us. Thought you might want to have a look,” she held out a bundle of papers that had been cradled in her lap to him. Tommy took the packet, glancing at her curiously as he set it down on his bed.

“Alright.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, instead keeping her head turned to the window. Settling his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head.

“How did the conversation go with your Mum?” he asked, even though by her grim mood, he could already have made a pretty good guess.

“They’re not moving,” she said. Tommy nodded.

“I’ll have men posted outside the house.”

“No. If you do, Elliot will just try to chase them off and probably get somebody shot,” she rubbed her palms together, looking down. Tommy felt his brows furrow, moving closer until he was right beside her.

“Are you okay?” there was something in her voice that he didn’t like.

“Fine.”

He cupped her chin with one hand, tilting her head back until she looked at him. Her eyes were red, clearly she’d been crying.

“Lucy…”

“Really, I’m okay.”

“We’ll figure out how to keep them safe.”

Her face twisted and Tommy cocked his head.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she scrubbed at her face. “Elliot’s just a dick.”

A flare of protectiveness built within his chest. Tommy had never even met Elliot, and yet he still held a not insignificant dislike for the man. It didn’t help that he always seemed to leave Lucy jittery with nerves and sadness, though her crying at something Elliot had said was new.

“What did he say to you?”

Lucy just shook her head stubbornly, jaw tensed in that way that he knew meant he’d have to practically pry her jaws open to get an answer. Sighing, deciding that it wouldn’t be a good time to push her, he just drew her into the circle of his arms, her head thumping against his chest while he rubbed her back.

“It’ll be okay.”

She nodded silently.

“We need to get going soon.”

“Right,” she stood from the windowsill, going to the washroom, blotting at her eyes and redoing her makeup, fluffing her curls. Tommy leaned against the doorframe, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. Once she was done, she sat down on the end of one of the beds while he pulled his waistcoat and holster back on, the toe of her shoe rubbing against the carpet.

“Do you think that I’m a slut?”

He almost dropped his revolver as he tucked it back into the holster. “What?”

Lucy was looking at him with big eyes, face uncharacteristically vulnerable as she shrugged. Stalking across the room, he came to a stop in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.

“Of course not.”

Her breaths rattled, nodding once, eyes closing as she leaned into his touch. Tommy bent to kiss her lips, rubbing a dark red curl between his fingers.

“Besides, who said that there’s anything wrong with that?”

That got a tiny laugh from her, eyes darting down, to his relief a bit of life returning to her cheeks. Taking both her hands in his, he pulled her to her feet, enjoying the way that she bumped against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go cause some trouble.”   

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“Lucy, there’s a phone call for you.”

She glanced up from her papers, frowning. “For me? Or for Tommy?”

“For you,” Polly whisked around her. “It’s your brother.”

“Oh.”

“Phone in the back.”

“Thanks,” she put down her pen and stood, squeezing around the other men in the betting shop to get to the phone in the backroom. Picking it up, she held it to her ear. “What’s going on, Teddy?”

“It’s Elliot.”

She started. Never before had Elliot called her. Never. It was always only Teddy or her mother.

“Where’s Teddy?”

She listened as the voice spoke on the other end, a numbness seizing her bones, leaving her cold. She might have mumbled out something that could have been considered some form of instructions, or she might have just hung up the phone without an answer; she wasn’t sure, staggering back to the kitchen and slumping down into a chair.

“Oh, good lord,” Polly looked up from the kettle of tea she was making. “What’s wrong with you?”

The floorboards creaked, Tommy stepping in from the front sitting room and into the kitchen, swiping a cigarette across his lips.

“My brother just died,” Lucy said numbly, and Polly froze.

“What?” Tommy said, moving to squat down in front of her. Lucy fumbled to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, he, um, Elliot just called me. I guess he was following someone, and the man noticed, confronted him about it…things got out of hand, someone pulled a gun…”

Tommy’s hand moved to rest on her knee, pressing circles in through the material of her slacks. “I’m so, so sorry, love.”

Polly went to close the double doors to the main part of the shop. Tommy rose to remove the kettle as it started to shriek.

“Which one is Teddy?” Polly asked Tommy in a hushed whisper as she moved to help him with the tea. “Is he the one she likes, or the one she doesn’t get along with?”

“The one she likes,” Tommy said, plucking the teacup from Polly and bringing it over to sit in front of Lucy. She stared down at her hands, the tiniest of tremors having found its way into her fingertips.

“I have to go back to London,” she said. Tommy nodded.

“Of course.”

“I should–I should see about moving Mum and Elliot closer…”

“One thing at a time, love. I’ll come with you.”

“Tommy, we need you here–” Polly began to bristle.

“You can manage a few days without me. Besides, we need to look into this man Teddy had a conflict with,” he took Lucy’s hands pulling her from her seat. “Come, let’s get you some fresh air.”

“Tommy–!”

“Not right now, Polly,” he said sternly, guiding Lucy with a firm arm around her to the door.

They stepped out onto the gray street, Tommy ushering her away from the betting shop, around a corner, and then into a secluded alley. And there, without the pressures of needing to appear stoic and strong in front of Polly or the public, she let her head fall forward onto Tommy’s chest, and began to weep.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“I need to go see my Mum,” Lucy said, looking out over the expanse of the river from where they were standing on the road. Tommy cocked his head, hand reaching out to brush against hers.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I think it better if I go alone,” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, wrapping her arms around herself and offering him a weak smile.

“I’ll go see what I can find about the man who killed him.”

“Divide and conquer, then? Meet back at the hotel around noon?”

“Alright,” he stooped to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

She started to walk down the road. When she looked over her shoulder, it was to find him still staring after her, hands shoved into his pockets and frowning. But upon her giving him a little smile and wave, his lips tilted upwards. She could feel his eyes on her until she rounded the corner. As she moved further and further away from Tommy, her smile fell, head hanging as she sniffed.

The house seemed to loom over her more than normal; its shadow dark and cold as it cast over her. Lucy gulped as she pulled the spare key Teddy had given her from her pocket, and opened the door. The hinges screamed.

“Mum?” she called out as she closed the door behind her. “Elliot?” Baskets full of flowers and baked bread were stacked neatly in the living room, the odor from the flowers sickly sweet and pungent. There was the sound of footsteps clattering down the stairs, and then a figure was flying at her, arms outstretched towards her throat.

“You! This is your fault! This is all your fault! You disgusting whore!” Elliot was screaming as he threw himself at her. Lucy’s back collided with the door, hands barely managing to catch at his wrists before they would have wrapped around her throat.

“Elliot!”

“He’s dead, he’s dead because of you!”

She lifted her knee to crash into his stomach, and he doubled over coughing, then choked as her next punch struck him directly in the throat, leaving him to collapse to the floor. Stepping over him, she rested a foot on his chest, pushing him down roughly into the hardwood. 

“Don’t ever come at me like that again.” 

Elliot looked up at her with hateful eyes, but made no other move to attack her. With a deep breath, she removed her foot to allow him to sit up.

“Where’s Mum?”

Elliot didn’t say anything, instead just rubbing his throat. Rolling her eyes, Lucy stepped past him and headed into the kitchen.

Her mother was seated in her rocking chair in the corner of the little breakfast nook, staring out the window. Her red hair was tangled, clothes wrinkled and rumpled. The rocking chair creaked back and forth, back and forth.

“Mum,” Lucy said, quietly, taking a cautious step forward. When she didn’t respond, Lucy knelt down in front of her, grasping her hands. “Mum?”

“Oh, Lucy,” her mother said, as if waking from a daze. “Lucy, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I am,” she stroked some of her mother’s hair away from her face. “Are you okay?”

Her mother’s bottom lip started to tremble. “They don’t know–the police don’t know–”

“I know. It’ll be okay,” she said, raising to hug her mother.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come home.”

They parted. “Have you eaten?”

“O-oh, no.”

“How about some of the bread and jam your neighbors have sent you?”

“Alright, I suppose so.”

She went back into the living room, snatching a loaf and a container of dark purple jam from one of the baskets. Elliot had pulled himself to his feet, and he followed her back into the kitchen. Lucy scraped a knife over the slices of bread, smearing the jam before passing a slice to her mother.

“Mum,” she crouched down in front of her again. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but after the funeral, I thought maybe you could come stay with me in Birmingham for a while. You and Elliot. Or maybe you could go out into the countryside. Join up with the caravan with your kin.”

“I said no, Lucy,” Elliot growled. But her mother looked tempted.

“Wait, Elliot, maybe…maybe Lucy’s right.”

“No.”

“But-”

“I am the man of this house. What I say goes. And it certainly isn’t going to be superseded by a disgusting slut.”

“Elliot that is enough! You do not speak to your sister like that!”

“I don’t want her at the funeral,” he growled. “It’s her fault Teddy’s dead! She has no right to go!”

“That is not–”

“No, he’s right,” Lucy said, voice quiet. “I shouldn’t go.”

“Oh, my Lucy, no. Please, come,” her mother reached for her hand, choking on tears. “Teddy would have wanted you to come.”

“That’s sweet of you to think, Mama,” she said as gently as she could. “But I don’t want to cause any problems,” she shot a glance at Elliot. If she went to the funeral, there was almost bound to be a fight between them; be it during or after. That was the last thing that her mother needed right now.

“I’m sure that it has nothing to do with you being unable to step foot inside a church, does it?” Elliot sneered. Lucy rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a fucking vampire, Elliot, I can walk in a church just fine,” thought honestly, she didn’t particularly enjoy it. Churches made her uncomfortable. Reaching out, she combed her fingers through her mother’s hair. “Think about what I said about leaving, okay?”

Her mother nodded wordlessly, and she stooped to kiss her cheek. She caught at Lucy’s hand, holding onto her with a grip like iron. “Lucy, don’t go.”

“I have to, right now, okay? But I’ll be back. I’ll come see you after the funeral,” it took a long moment before her mother loosened her grip on her and nodded. Straightening, Lucy left the kitchen, heading back to the front door.

“We’re not leaving,” Elliot insisted, following her. 

“We’ll see.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have things to do.” 

“Things with the Devil?”

“Things like tracking down Teddy’s killer. I’ll see you later,” she closed the door before he could say anymore.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“You’re really not going to go to the funeral?” Tommy asked, lighting her cigarette for her as they stood at the edge of the park, the shadows of the tree above them almost completely hiding them from view. Lucy shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so. Elliot doesn’t want me to. It would just cause unnecessary problems,” she took a puff of her cigarette. “I’ll pay my respects later,” there were times where the grief that she had attempted to shove down, at least until these issues with Teddy’s killer and her mother and brother were resolved, started crawling up her throat and she had to swallow it back down, voice choking around it. 

Tommy put a hand on her hip, letting her lean backwards until his chest met her back, arms going around her. Lucy closed her eyes. They were alone in the park, it well past midnight. The whole area was secluded and not often traveled. There would be no risks of interruptions.

A car drove up to stop at the edge of the park, and two of their men stepped out, the silhouettes of their caps clear in the dim light of the streetlamp. Tommy coughed, letting her go as the men went around to the trunk, popping it open and pulling out a figure, bound and gagged, and beginning to drag him along the grass to them. He groaned as they tossed him at their feet.

“Thank you, boys,” Tommy pulled from his coat pocket a wad of bills that he split in half, handing each to the men. They nodded in silent respect, went back to get into their car, and drove off. Lucy squatted down in front of the man, her head tilting. It hadn’t been all too hard to find him. There were plenty of witnesses to the altercation between him and Teddy. After that, it was just asking around, learning which pubs he liked to frequent, then sending some of their boys to pick him up.

“Hello, Mr. Larry Baxter,” Tommy said in that deep purr of his. “Do you know who we are?”

Baxter shivered in his bonds, eyes darting from one to the other, then nodded.

“Good. Do you know why you are here?”

Baxter hesitated only a moment, then nodded.

“Good,” Tommy reached into his coat, pulling his revolver from its holster. “Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?” he asked her.

“I want to do it,” Lucy said, staring down at Baxter in silent, shivering rage. Tommy held out the grip of the gun to her. Taking it with one hand, she plucked from her lips her cigarette, giving it to him. Tommy brought it to his lips casually, watching lazily as she approached Baxter. Raising the gun to aim at one of his eyes, she cocked it.

Her brother had been shot in the face. The funeral would be a closed casket one, considering the extent of the damage.

An eye for an eye.

She pulled the trigger, and blew a bullet directly through his eye, into his skull. Blood and brains splattered onto the green grass.

Green and red. Like the faded rug in her mother’s living room.

Tommy took the gun from her, sliding it back under his coat. His hand touched her hair, massaging the base of her skull.

They weighed Baxter down with stones and tossed him into the river. And as they walked home Lucy let her head rest against Tommy’s shoulder, the scent of blood still lodged deeply in her nose, the taste of the salty tears rolling down her cheeks on her lips.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

[automatopsy]

vvv THIS LESBIAN KILLS AND ALSO RESURRECTS PEOPLE vvv

(i drew these) (2020 and 2021, respectively)

SHE IS UNDEAD SHE SACRIFICED HER EYES FOR IMMORTALITY ZIE KILLED HIR BROTHER + SACRIFICED HIS JAW FOR HIS IMMORTALITY ZIE BROUGHT HIR SISTER BACK WRONG AND THEN BROUGHT LIKE 10 STRANGERS BACK RIGHT AND LOCKED THEM IN A MANSION TO EXPERIMENT ON

VOTE LUCE!!!!!!!!

@villain-oc-tournament​ @bleedingtooth​

[gryptids]

*breaks down your door* OCS ASKS!!!!

Cule: 20 and D for Saoirse, 34 for Cara, 43 for Vic, 7 and G for Jude

TGG: 23 for Luce, 38 and F for Maria, 28 and B for Alaric, 22 for Leander

annnnnd 40 and E for &Lav!!

HE HE HE >:3C Thank u so much for askin!! Answers will all be below the cut :]

CULE:

(Saoirse) 20: If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so? Re: platonic and romantic love, it's not too different for them! I don't think they see much of a distinction -- for them, relationships are very cyclical, so it's more about the point in the cycle the relationship is in (growing & then fading closeness/intimacy) than other distinctions. For example, she considers Victor a friend, but has a deep, intimate dynamic with him that involves sex. It's more about what the other party wants to classify the relationship as; if they had it her way, she wouldn't label them at all.

(Saoirse) D: Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look? Nope! Saoirse went through a big change when I was first settling on character designs. They've always been goth, but she originally had a different hairstyle (natural hair w/ braids on the sides to emulate a fauxhawk) AND was plus size! I knew I wanted to have plus size characters in the cast, because the splinters can 'choose' what form they pick, and I wanted to demonstrate that fatness was something people can and would chose to be if social and medical stigma around size didn't exist. But then I read a book called “Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia” by Sabrina Strings, where she argues that "slim, desirable white women [are explicitly and figuratively juxtaposed] against corpulent, seemingly monstrous black women." Well... I had made a thin white woman and a fat Black femme (who was also somewhat monstrous as a part of the story) as juxtaposed parties. That book as well as some gift art I received from YOU made me reconsider which characters I wanted to be fat -- and I eventually settled on Carolyn and Victor. I gave Saoirse another one of my favorite body types instead -- broad shoulders, narrow waist!

(Cara) 34: How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?  Ooh, this is a juicy question. Cara tends to move to the beat of her own drum; the rules that society holds aren't necessarily the ones she believes in or follows in her day-to-day life. Where she feels the most guilt is when she feels like she's failed by her own metrics; when she can't live up to the ideals she holds for herself. She pretends it doesn't affect her when she fails to live up to her own expectations, but it will eat away at her until she directs her frustration at the nearest target.

(Victor) 43: If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?  "I'm bi. Why, you interested?" (In fact, the entire quartet is bisexual! As a bisexual myself, it's very important for me to increase bi visibility through my characters. Plus, that way I can smash them together in whichever configurations I please <3)

(Jude) 7: What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling? Answered here!

(Jude) G: What trait of theirs bothers you the most? There's plenty to get bothered over when it comes to Jude, but the trait that bothers me the most is his obtuseness; he REFUSES to be vulnerable with others, and instead thinks he can guess what someone will like better than they can judge for themself. Instead of just letting someone fall in love with him, he tries to put on a show and tailor himself to their expectations. That and his (related) milquetoast opinions bug the hell out of me. Where's the vulnerability?? Where's the locked-and-loaded rant about your least favorite pastry????? He won't risk being 'wrong' for someone, which inevitably means that he's never right for someone either.

TGG:

(Lucia) 23: How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?  She gets VERY competitive when envious (which happens a lot in the story; she has incredible magical talent, which has been outlawed in her home nation, and comes from a very low social rung). She WILL prove that she's the best, that she deserves what she wants, tooth and nail -- even if she's leaving with broken bones and bloody lips. It'll all be worth it to prove everyone wrong.

(Maria) 38: What memory do they revisit the most often? Maria holds a lot of fond memories around the ocean; it was a source of independence and bonding for her and her sister, and represents a wild kind of freedom that she was never allowed to embody growing up. She'll often return to a memory of her floating naked in the ocean underneath a full moon, completely at ease, and completely alone. No expectations, no needs she must address... just her and her skills, and the uncaring eye of nature.

(Maria) F: What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)? LOVE!! I love Maria so much. I've poured so much of myself and my experiences into her. She perseveres alongside depression and chronic pain, and her creative and passionate spirit never dims even in the worst circumstances. Her curiosity, kindness, and fierce defense of the ones she loves is what it's all about, babey!!

(Alaric) 28: Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?  Never. Lies ruined his life at a very young age, and turned him into the bitter fuck he is today. He makes it his mission to force people to face unpleasant truths whenever possible. Otherwise, when the truth eventually reaches you (and it will reach you), everyone will be caught in the crossfire.

(Alaric) B: What inspired you to create them? This is a great question! The seed narrative that would become TGG originally included just Maria and Leander -- but I decided I wanted a messy, bisexual love triangle (as well as a twist on the 'evil advisor' trope), and Alaric was born. Though that love triangle element wasn't retained into the current story, I still think it's a very fun dynamic. Two people who butt heads bond over the man they think they can't have, and have sex with each other as a substitute instead? That's the exact kind of mess I love. If the romantic rivals simply had sex with each other to blow off that frustration, everyone would be happier.

(Leander) 22: How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?  ANOTHER GREAT QUESTION! Leander gets (even more) withdrawn when jealous, mostly because it's a very overwhelming feeling. It's very rare that he's confronted with something he wants but can't have, and even rarer that someone is willing to challenge him. It's... refreshing, in a way. So while he does get withdrawn, it's not in a submissive way, but in a 'the volcano is quiet but there's still molten rock underneath' way. That challenge is exactly what he needs to actually kick his ass into gear sometimes. Be assured; he might be quiet and stony-faced, but the gears are turning.

&LAV: (gonna answer for the main three -- Lav, Ro, and Zan -- since u didn't specify a char!)

40: How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Lav: They try not to think about it (which works sometimes, and not others). They try their best to live an upstanding life, but upstanding lives are just so boring. The constant battle is between impulse and societal pressure, and they've yet to balance them in a satisfying way. Slipping up is a 'flaw' -- but they discover that flaws can actually be kind of delicious when held in the right light.

Ro: Kind of, but it doesn't get to her. I mean, her job is literally to get showered with praise in exchange for performance, so a healthy sense of self-confidence is key. She's had her ups and downs -- and she would say her biggest flaw is her isolation -- but has gotten to a place where she can handle herself with grace and confidence. Sometimes a little too much confidence.

Zan: Very sensitive. He was recently punished -- both socially and physically -- by his superiors for slipping up. Now he's back and trying to prove himself, and he's very aware of how much is on the line. He's prepared to claw his way back to the top (and then some), but he'd be lying if he said he never dwelt on what landed him in his current predicament.

E: Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Lav: They are very pretty, but we don't have much in common. I'm a very energetic person, and they tend to be more withdrawn; they're very refined, and I am... not that. I think we would have great conversations about their work (they carve gems! That's so cool!) but it would be a congenial exchange and nothing more.

Ro: A tentative yes! She's a homebody, so I think she'd appreciate that my idea of a fun hang-out is snacks and a movie at home. However, she's busy as fuck, so we wouldn't get to see each other often. Kind of annoying, but it's always a good time when we do see each other!

Zan: He IS an effervescent conversationalist, but our worlds are so different that I have no idea what we'd talk about. I'm not into cigars, or poker, or couture brands, or other rich fancy status stuff; likewise, he's not super interested in outdoorsy hikes or art, though he does have a good aesthetic eye. We might chat a bit at a bar, but it would be very low intimacy.

[napkinscrawls]

.Crush. ."I made this for you".

Primo/OC | 674 words | Ghoul oc | Ghouls are inhuman

Primo's ghoul is a creative soul. AO3

Primo stares at the line of what were theoretically tiny human sculptures on the raised bed of his lavender. They were lined up neatly & with clear purpose, but the shapes themselves eluded him. He settles in full onto the low stool beneath him, a small huff through his nose.

He knows green eyes were studying him as he in turn studied their owner's latest work.

"The influences of Giacometti are apparent." Primo states.

A giggle from amongst the bluebells as the eyes dart away.

"Though the subject matter is unmistakably profane."

The giggle ends in a bark of laughter.

Primo turns with a raised chin to see the garden ghoul's tail whip around. "Clearly from the mind of a tortured soul." his voice still deadpan but receives the rattle of delight from the ghoul he wanted nonetheless.

Muck's chest flutters under the shake of her stifled laughter. Her upper lip bitten by metallic fangs in an attempt to feign ignorance. A game the two play, their own ritual, freed from service as he now was.

Gardening continues as Primo is careful to work around the slowly drying mud sculptures. Letting them bake in the sun.

After a few hours a sibling emerges to deliver lunch, the sun high in the sky & barely blocked by the overhanging trees. Primo was resigned to the timid prodding of the young attendant, clearly having been tasked with the usual warnings of keeping an eye on this old man's health. As if he didn't know his limits by now. Still, he listens to the same list of reminders with minimal grunting as he relocates to the shade. The same green eyes as before now locked onto the sibling, no sound of a moving tail, only the sharp clips of tiny shears at work.

Once the sibling was satisfied Primo shooed them away, aware of the slowly increasing gaps between snips that grew harsher on each return. Like an approaching step. Deaf to the warning, the sibling hesitates on the path, as they begin to turn back to the retired Papa they register the grey body standing dangerously close to their side.

They flinch at the blank stare & stumble over a greeting to rush out an excuse, & quickly dash down the path they'd arrived through. Leaves swaying as they retreated. The sibling left behind Muck, stood taught & still grasping the shears at her side. She tilts her head at the retreating human. A rustle of fabric behind her has her ear twitch, she didn't need to turn to know it was the movement of Primo's beckoning hand. Muck loafs up the steps to him, an innocent smile on her face & the shears now dangle loosely on a claw.

Primo pats the bench next to him; a cool stone, carved into shape to nestle against the thick tree behind it. Earning a chitter & swift obedience from the ghoul. She nestles into place beside him & eyes the food in his lap.

Another ritual. Muck watches Primo eat with her endless fascination & patience. In between bites he starts, "Is mostriciattola satisfied with her work?"

The question is wide enough to give her pause. She blinks her pupil-less green eyes. His ever levelled voice now gives her no clue as to his intentions.

"Luce dei miei occhi?" Muck croons, twisting her tail in anxiety "Do you not enjoy your peace? A small paradise in the long day?"

Primo hums around another bite, looking out at the gardens designed to hide many alcoves & protect inhabitants from outside intervention. It was once manicured & ostentatious; sharp lines of perfect topiaries to fit with the predecessors of his father's taste. A sight only changed when he inherited the Papa name & even then it was slow progress, he had to obfuscate each climbing vine & wildflower. Until his kingdom of green stood unchallenged.

His old bones feel the pull to the ground as a deep sense of accomplishment washes over him. A chin rests softly on his relaxing shoulder.

"I made this for you." She whispers.

A garden of pleasure.

[capri-sun-clown]

Universal Language - Alastor/OC commission

Luciana defied everything she knew to settle in New Orleans. It's the beginning to her end, but it's also the beginning of something else.

A commission finished for @spookyaimee on Twitter!

Luciana knew her mother would be furious if she were to ever find her again. She had been instructed to go straight to New York, where her stepfather would have his men waiting there for her. However, the thought of the same old and boring life in a new and exciting country was more than Luce could stomach. How could she truly start over again if she was still living the same patterns in the same way?

There is a lot of time to fill when you are on your own in the middle of the ocean. The woman would occupy herself by staring out at the waves as they lap and nip at the boat’s side when it finally hit her. Just as the water rocked against the boat, this idea began to rock in her mind. A change in location isn’t what was important, it was a change in perspective that was needed.

As that thought settled in her mind, she made a silent vow to herself that as soon as her feet touched American soil, she would run. She wouldn’t look back. Luciana found her independence in the middle of the ocean that day and it would be the decision that would lead to the beginning of her end.

New Orleans was the perfect decision for someone like Luce. Just like her, it is reckless and free but not without its charm and warm hospitality. Unlike the Italian woman, it did hold its biases towards those not from the area. More bluntly put, the locals were racist and mistrusting and that applied tenfold to Luce.

She assumed it is a mixture of her being from Italy, showing up out of the blue, and living at the edge of the woods that lead to the swamplands. Still, being driven out of speakeasies, stores, and even the streets at times was exhausting. Why couldn’t she just live her life the way she wanted?

Luce has grown accustomed to it now, finding solace in the little garden she’s raised from nothing more than seeds and soil. She considers this garden her home and the moths that enjoy it her family. She has convinced herself that she needs nothing else in her life other than these moths and her plants.

Months after settling in, she found that she rarely left her property. She had no real need to, not with the locals being as cruel as they always were to her. Looking back on it, she’s thankful she could always be found in the same place. That’s the only reason she’d ever met him in that sweltering summer of 1925. The crunching of leaves doesn’t draw her attention much until it’s accompanied by someone muttering under their breath. Her head snaps up, gripping the metal gardening spade in her hand as she scans the tree line that the noises came from. She isn’t used to locals coming out this far as most try to keep their distance from the immigrant. However, that doesn’t mean the thought hasn’t crossed her mind many times. She was prepared for the worst, she felt.

What she finds is a gaunt brunette man who looks a little out of sorts stumbling through the trees, holding onto the last one for support. He kicks one foot against the stump of the tree, attempting to knock the caked-on mud off his shoes.

The longer Luce watches, the more she takes in the strange man. He seems distracted as he becomes fully focused on his shoes. His face twists in disgust as he focuses on his task at hand. When he finally looks up and his eyes lock onto her, she sees his piercing eyes tucked behind a pair of cheaters. They hold something in them, but she has a hard time understanding what the emotion could be.

He finally drops his indescribable look and offers Luce a wide smile and a small nod as he reaches up to fix his hair, “Evening, Miss!”

The woman lets out a soft gasp, nearly tripping herself as she hurries over to the small waist-high fence that sits around her garden and home. She grins wide, bouncing on the tips of her toes as she speaks, “Conosco la tua voce!”

Alastor shakes his head and offers a small shrug of his shoulders once his hands are clasped behind his back. He begins to walk passed her with no intention to stop and chat, “Pardon me, but I don’t speak the language I’m afraid!”

The woman’s bouncing comes to a stop and she tilts her head to the side as he speaks. She knows she should have expected this, but found herself getting excited at the one English-speaking voice she cares to listen to. She hasn’t been in America very long, but what she had picked up in English had been from this man’s voice on the radio. That she is sure of.

She turns back to point into the open window of her home at the radio. It is currently playing soft music in the background as she works in her garden, but now it is the center of both their attention, “You. Radio…ah, voce?”

She slips back into Italian at the end and wrinkles up her nose as she does, trying to remember the exact word for voice. She tries to remind herself that she should be studying English more in her spare time.

The attempt at thick and broken English isn’t lost on the announcer nor is her recognition of him. A grin slips into his features once more as he finally stops and turns fully towards Luce, “Ah, yes! You must be familiar with my work on the radio! That comes as no surprise! Many people recognize my voice these days though I am surprised that you listen given you can’t understand me it seems.”

Luce stares for what she feels is a few seconds too long as he speaks before forcing a smile for him. She nods along with his words as he speaks, hoping that he doesn’t feel as if he’s wasting his breath on her. Everything he says isn’t reaching her, not fully. While she’s able to pick up some words in his sentences it’s not enough to even begin to piece together what’s being said.

Alastor stops speaking as he notices her stare is intense in focus but vacant in understanding. She’s not picking up on anything he’s saying. Really, he shouldn’t be bothering himself with someone who can’t even understand or hold a conversation but he hesitates to leave.

There is something about the pained smile on her face as she pretends to listen to him that he enjoys and pities all at once. It’s enough to keep him engaged in playing along with this farce, at least for a moment longer, “Can you believe just how many just think the radio is a fad that will pass and tend to stick with their gramophones over live music and vocal talent? Ha! I can’t wait to see them eat their words in a few years when the radio only becomes better.”

He watches her face as she tries her hardest to process the mouthful he’s just given to her at an unreasonable pace. Her smile falters before she tugs it back up into its original position, nodding a few more times. Her eyes flicker over his face, searching for any emotion to go off of.

He chuckles to himself, reveling in how she’s making him feel before he speaks again, “Well, not that this hasn’t been fun but I must be going now. I do hope you can forgive my intrusion on your afternoon…Miss?”

The man pauses, realizing that she won’t understand any of what he’s said anyway, “Do you have a name?”

This is the first time he sees her perk up with acknowledgment, “Luce.”

“My name is Alastor and it was lovely to meet you, Miss Luce.”

And just as soon as he had arrived, he leaves. He takes the way back into town and Luce cranes her neck to watch him until he disappears. Her heart aches for more conversation and a true friend here. She was always such a social creature and now due to the locals’ hatred of her being a foreigner, she has been forced into a life of solitude. At least the small interaction was a nice change.

It would be nearly a week later that the man would return to once again interrupt Luce’s daily routine in her garden. This time she does not notice him right away and he has to clear his throat to get her to turn around. Smirking, he offers her a rather large cooking pot much to her confusion. She looks up at him for answers as she comes closer to the fence that separates them.

“My mother insisted I should bring you some of her cooking when I told her about you up here. Seems she knows you from town or at least the way you’ve been treated. Poor thing.” That had been something he hadn’t known prior to talking to her. This town was full of nothing but lowlifes, that he knows.

He holds the pot very firmly in his hands and as Luce leans in to get a better look, the savory smell of a home-cooked meal reached her nose. She could have cried if she hadn’t been so focused on taking in the wonderful sight before her. She looked up to Alastor for some sort of explanation before bringing a hand to her chest, “For..me?”

“Of course,” Alastor laughs, offering her the pot with a wide grin, “After all, food is the universal language.”

[bun-bujo]

LOGROS DE ENERO DE 2023

·  hacer el setup de twitch

·  solicitar certificado

·  reorganizarse y estudiar mucho

·  archivar los posts de instagram

·  rediseñar tumblr

·  dibujar + ocs

·  encontrar un estilo para la agenda nueva

·  hacer ejercicio

·  hacer el pack de emotes

·  terminar un libro

·  seguir haciendo mini proyectos online

 FAVORITOS DE ENERO DE 2023

❤ celebrar el año nuevo ver las luces de navidad en un pueblito de la sierra de granada

❤ escribir posts para tumblr sobre arte

❤ la segunda temporada de la newsletter

❤ BSD SEASON 4 (!!!)

❤ SSKK nendos (!!!!!!!)

❤ Blue lock (!)

❤ la visita de las niñas la noche de Reyes

❤ la sub del canal de 4l1ce

❤ comprar pegatinas

❤ el anuncio de destinos

[king-bito]

Hey Bito! I definitely want in on your OC game djekdjek. So I would identify as a service submissive/pet/babygirl. I like all the honorifics and kinks that come with those minus age play. I love animals, nature, and learning. My goal is to learn something new every day of my life, no matter how small. I can be a bit serious and it’s hard for me to relax at times, and I prefer being around a man that’s calm, measured, and stern, but opens up for the right person.

Djekdjek k bye never done a matchup 🤗😖😖😖😊

LEEAAAAHHH

I match you with one of my favourites uwu I hope u like him.

This is Moro!

He has so much art my god.

Moro was a very good friend to Lucifer, but never wanted part in the war, and disliked how his friend was so far from himself when so filled with anger and rage, that when he followed Luce down from the upper realms, he decided tosplit himself entirely from his kin and take to the mortal realms depths rather than join the armies in the demon realm.

He adored the silence of the depths and the mysteries even mankind were yet to discover, it gave him time to be reborn, to think and mature, and most of all, be free. The kind of free that Moro didnt really think possible. This ex celestial gave up his wings to reuinite with his old friend when they were both ready, rekindling their friendship hundreds of years later.

Theres a slight love story between the two, ever adoting of eachother, ever respecting eachother, but they arent what eachother need in partnership, so while close, they will never be anything more.

Moro is more aware of this than he would like to be.. So in the dark ages he took to potion making, concocting formulars to alter ones form, be they human, demon, or anything else. To reveal someones true self, their true vessel to match their mind. With many willing subjects, his research continues to this day, but it doesnt exactly pay the bills when magic had to become a secret once more.

You are likely to see moro in a surprisingly clean antiques store, leaning over a ledger or various documents, reading or simply expanding his own knowledge somehow.

Upstairs leads to his apartment, which considering what he is, its surprisingly normal, a bedroom, closet, lounge, kitchen, bath, etc.

Theres a locked door down the hall, that opens for his palm only, or permitted others. When opened, an invisible barrier barely but perfectly holds back seawater as it exits into his deep, deep sea cave abode where his concoctions are created and stored, and he swims freely as his truest self.

Moro feigns charm, quite poorly, he is quiet and reserved, and calm in a crisis, in fact, its impossible to catch the man off guard. He never talks about his past and seems to be stern over any other emotion, but sometimes theres a smile when you turn your back.

Your hunger for knowledge will no doubt integue him as he has so much of his own with so little use for it, but your drive and passion to better yourself makes it hard for him not to enjoy your company

He would also love to try a variety of concoctions on you, from altering your form to heavy aphrodesiacs. Needless to say, he would have something to assist you in breathing underwater so he can show you his home away from home. He will often just take you by the hand and guide you in when you're stressed and let you sit among the glowing plantlife, or have his familiars comfort you. He also welcomes you in day or night if you need him, or if you just need a quiet place to just.. Be. To just watch the sway of foliage, or the glimmer of friendly sealife, and just get away from it all. (just dont break his shit xD)

The bonus of a magic door means you're completely dry when you exit too!

Moro is kind and loving in his own way, not voiced so much but he will make physical gestures to include you or look after you, but he mostly just watches and lets you be.

In the bedroom he is a switch, he likes to watch you explore dynamics and kinks and is eager to provide where he can, but he does lean more on the dominant side, even while receiving.

He hopes you like tentacles, they gross most people out, so his heart will skip a beat if you ever admire his mer form >>

And just to top it all off, all this history he never talks about? All those emotions he struggles to convey? You'll learn a little more about him as you grow comfortable with eachother, and after a while, he will answer any question you ask him about his past.

Fun fact: he has a younger brother who acts like a shouta but is a psychopath. They hate eachother and you'll probably never meet him xD

Damn some of this art is ancient im so sorry xD

Love calimari? He isnt offended.. He just might not join you xD

[sunshinejihyun]

Wedding Bells - Saeyoung Choi

Summary: A dating app brings two unexpected people together

A note about this work: All of the RFA members have significant others (besides Saeyoung, MC is used for this fic as normal) that are referred to by name. Those are my OC’s and they’re the names I use when I play those characters routes. I just needed to give everyone a happy ending, okay?

Here is a quick breakdown: Yoosung and Wenyn Zen and Briar Jaehee and Cordelia Jumin and Luce

You can meet all my OC’s here!

Word count: 5.4k

Masterlist

“What do you mean I have to have a date to your wedding?” Saeyoung Choi stood staring out his kitchen window, his phone pressed against his ear and his best friend, Yoosung was spewing some ridiculous ideas into his ear.

“I mean just that. Bring a date, everyone thinks you have a girlfriend.” Yoosung’s voice sounded muffled on the other end and Saeyoung’s brow furrowed. “Sorry, Wenyn was trying to tell me something. But seriously, bring a date or else!”

“Where am I supposed to find a date in the next two weeks?” Saeyoung rubbed at the part of his nose that his glasses rested. “You know what - never mind. I’ll figure it out. Talk to you later!” Before Yoosung could get another word in, Saeyoung was pressing the end call button.

Two questions were ringing clearly in his head: first, why the hell would Yoosung tell everyone he was seeing someone and where the hell was he supposed to meet a girl to bring to a wedding on such short notice?

Sitting himself down at his computer, Saeyoung found himself looking at dating sites, only half considering making an account. After one bad tinder date, he had ended up deleting himself from the app (and hacking into her phone to erase his number, but that was a different story) and vowed to never go on another dating app. But desperate times called for desperate measures, so he’d have to make do with the resources he had which is how Saeyoung found himself signing up for Tinder for the second time.

-

“Any luck on the date hunt?” Yoosung had stopped by Saeyoung’s bunker in hopes of stowing away for a few hours; wedding planning was tough and the blond needed some time away from it all.

“No, I rejoined tinder but it seems the only people who match with me want me to pay for their OnlyFans - I don’t even know what that is! - or just don’t respond! I’m getting frustrated.” Saeyoung whined, glaring at his blond friend. “Tell me why you had to tell everyone I was seeing someone?”

“I don’t know! You’re the only one from the RFA not bringing a date, I didn’t want you to feel left out!” Yousung replied, looking over Saeyoung’s shoulder and swiping right on the tinder profile Saeyoung was currently looking at. “What if.. You make your own app?”

“My own app?” Saeyoung echoed and Yoosung nodded, letting Saeyoung bounce the idea around in my head. “I’d have to hack some websites like Facebook and Twitter to advertise it, but that would be a good idea.”

Yoosung grinned, happy to have supplied Saeyoung with a good idea and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Wenyn’s probably freaking out wondering where I am since I said I was going to the convenience store for milk. I’ll text you later and check on how your app is coming along!”

Saeyoung barely heard his younger friend, mind already reeling as he started figuring out how to design his new app.

-

“MC! Good morning, the usual?” Jaehee Kang was standing behind her bakery’s counter, cleaning the steam spout on the coffee machine as you approached the counter. Ever since Jaehee and her partner Cordelia had opened up this shop, you’ve been a frequent customer and have become friends with both the women who ran it.

“Good morning, Jaehee! And, yes please.” You replied, looking down at your phone and chewing your nail nervously.

“Something on your mind?” The girl’s long hair was tied back today and you laughed as she continually pushed a piece of hair that fell out of place before starting on your coffee order,

“Eh, it’s nothing bad. Just having a family party and everyone’s expecting me to bring a date. A date that I definitely don’t have.” You locked your phone before shoving it in your pocket so you were able to grab your drink from Jaehee.

“I have a friend who just finished designing an app,” Jaehee’s voice was soft as she spoke of this person, like they were someone who she held very dear to her heart. “It might help you with your problem. It’s called Wedding Bells, look it up on the app store.”

“Wedding Bells? I’m not looking to get married!” You laughed and headed for the door, letting the next customer order from Jaehee. She sent you a small smile and a wave before putting all her attention on the man standing in front of her.

As you were walking back to your house, curiosity got the best of you and you pulled out your phone before searching Wedding Bells on the app store. A simple ‘W’ was the app’s logo and the description was: ‘Looking for a fake date to a wedding or another family function? Look no further! With Wedding Bells, you’re connected with other people looking for dates!’

Without thinking about it too much, you downloaded the app and when you got home, you sat down and started filling out your profile. It asked for specifics, like the exact date and time you needed someone with you as well as your likes and dislikes and from there gave you a small list of 10 people they think you’d be a good fake date for and vise versa.

Scrolling through the first two profiles, you were virtually unimpressed. These people seemed bland - like they had no personality, which was probably the reason why they weren’t able to find dates. The third profile you clicked on had potential, he seemed funny in his answers and like he actually cared about how people perceived him. Plus he was good looking, which was always a bonus. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided to message him.

MC: Hey, Saeyoung! I see you need a date to a wedding, what a coincidence, I’m also in need of a fake date to a family function.

You put yourself out there, now no one could say you didn’t try. Just as you were about to exit out of the app, you noticed that Saeyoung was typing so you stayed, anxious to see his response.

Saeyoung: MC! Greetings! Yep yep yep I need a date… it’s to my best friends wedding and everyone thinks I have a girlfriend! You have any experience in the being-a-fake-girlfriend department?

MC: Can’t say I’ve ever been someone’s fake girlfriend, but I have been a real girlfriend once or twice so I think I can handle it!

Saeyoung: Amazing! I think I’d be a great fake boyfriend if I did say so myself! Would you be interested in being my fake girlfriend?

MC: Only if you’re interested in being my fake boyfriend!

The rest of the night was spent chatting with Saeyoung. You had even switched over to a video call at one point and the entire time was spent with you both choosing outfits for the other to wear to the events. You had even caught a peek at him shirtless a few times during that process, which was a very welcome surprise.

“I can’t believe it’s already 3am,” Saeyoung whispered. You were both currently laying in bed, each holding their phone with one hand, your head being popped up by the other. “You’re so easy to talk to.”

“You are also,” you admitted, moving your hair out of your eyes. “I think I should probably get some sleep now.”

“You should, you’ll need that beauty rest for the wedding.” Saeyoung teased, sticking out his tongue at you.

“Says you! You look like you haven't slept in days!” You watched as he closed his eyes, his breathing starting to slow. “Goodnight, Saeyoung.”

Sleepily opening one eye towards you, he sent you a crooked grin. “Goodnight, beautiful MC.”

-

The wedding day was approaching fast and Saeyoung was a nervous mess. Throughout the week of getting to know MC, he had quickly come to enjoy her silly little texts she would send during the day and the nightly phone calls that went into the early morning that they spent planning their fake relationship and just learning about each other.

Saeyoung was curious about MC. She was quick to laugh at his jokes and was even speedier at supplying her own remark back. She would be the perfect date to Yoosung and Wenyn’s wedding, she was so perfectly in sync with him that no one would be able to suspect that they haven’t been together for the last six months and he only hoped she thought the same about him.

“Hello? Saeyoung?” Her voice brought the redhead out of his thoughts and he zeroed back in on what she was saying. “As I was saying, give me a run down on your friends that I’ll meet at this wedding! I’m gonna need to be on my A game if I want them to like me.” Saeyoung smiled at the bright girl in front of him, so eager to please his friends and set in on telling her about his friends and their significant others

-

“Your chariot awaits, m’lady!” You opened the door to your apartment to find Saeyoung standing there, a corsage in his hand and a goofy smile on his face.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” You replied before accepting his outstretched hand. “I got you a pink boutonniere to match your tie and my nails, I hope that’s okay.”

“I’ve never gotten one of those before so the fact that you even got me one makes it more than okay.” Saeyoung answered honestly before leading you to a red sports car sitting out front. “Figured we’d arrive in style.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had a nice car!” You exclaimed, getting in the passenger seat, careful not to wrinkle your dress. “What is it you do for work again?”

“This and that,” he answered nonchalantly before throwing you a grin and putting the car in drive. “Now, are we ready to go?”

“I was born ready, fake boyfriend.” Saeyoung laughed at that before turning on the radio. The beginning of the car ride was spent with you and him quizzing each other on your fake relationship but by the end, you both were belting along to the loud music blaring through the speakers.

“At last we’ve arrived!” Saeyoung exclaimed before getting out of the car. “You stay there, I’m going to come open the door for you and then put this corsage on your wrist.” Sitting still, a smile played on your lips as you watched the lanky man run around to your side of the car and open the door for you. “Wrist please,” silently holding out your left arm to him, he gently gripped your hand, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern for a second before letting go to slip the band on your wrist. “There, it looks good! Matches your dress and everything!” It did, although it wasn’t what you would have picked out for yourself. The corsage was adorned with deep green and white flowers and light pink and silver ribbon woven throughout. It went well with your black and green dress, and it was from Saeyoung which was the most important part.

“Okay, now let me put this boutonniere on your jacket.” You opened the case before pulling out the simple pink rose with white ribbon wrapped around it. “These get a little tricky to put on, so hold still.” You warned, hand poised with one of the needles ready to pin the flower to his jacket. As you were about to pin it, Saeyoung shifted his weight from one hip to the other and you pricked yourself, blood immediately blooming at the small wound. “Ouch!”

“Oh man, I’m so sorry MC!” Saeyoung replied, gently grabbing your hang before bringing the finger up to his mouth and gently sucking on the wound to clean it of blood. You watched him, open mouthed and he immediately dropped your hand, face flushing red. “I have no clue why I just did that.”

“MC?” You heard your name being called and you turned to find Jaehee and Cordelia making their way over to you and your date, Cordelia’s arm was wrapped around one of Jaehee’s, both of them with confused smiles on your faces. “I didn’t know you and Saeyoung knew each other?”

You glanced nervously at the boy standing next to you before clearing your throat. “Yes, Saeyoung and I have been dating for six months now.”

Jaehee sent a confused look your way. “What are you talking about? Just last week you were in the shop complaining about not having a date to a family function. I recommended trying my friends app and…” her speech slowed down before she stopped completely, realization dawning on her face. “Oh! I see, you downloaded Saeyoung’s app and you two are now pretending you’re in a relationship.” “Don’t worry!” Cordelia’s bright smile was a welcome change after the awkward encounter. “Your secret is safe with us! Have a nice time guys, we’ll see you inside.” Jaehee bowed her head to you both before reconnecting her hand with her partners, both of them whispering quietly to each other as they walked inside the venue the wedding was being held in.

“Jaehee said I downloaded your app?” You turned to pin the flower again and this time he let you step closer. You could feel Saeyoung’s breath disturbing some stray strands of your hair as you adjusted the flower so it was sitting straight on his jackets lapel.

“Surprise?” Saeyoung’s face was contorted into an awkward sheepish smile and you rolled your eyes with him. “I didn’t want you to think I, like, hacked your list to put me on there because I needed a date. The algorithm naturally matched us, I had nothing to do with it. I created the app and then answered the questions same as you and every one else who’s using it.”

“I think that’s really impressive, Saeyoung. And it’s another fact that I know about you - you create apps - that we can sell to make our relationship seem real.” You found yourself getting lost in his eyes. Normally when you video chatted with him, he was wearing glasses  but today he must have been wearing contacts. His honey colored eyes portrayed his every emotion, and it would have been easy to spend all day looking into them.

“Umm… we should probably head in.” Saeyoung suggested, holding out his hand for you to intwine your fingers with him. “Ready, darling?”

“Yes sweetie,” you giggled, letting him lead you into the venue. When you walked in, an impeccably dressed man with long silver hair waived you both over.

“Saeyoung!  We were starting to worry that you wouldn’t show up. And you must be MC! So nice to meet you, I’m Zen and this is my girlfriend, Briar.” Zen gestured to the girl sitting next to him and you smiled at them both.

“Nice to meet you both, I’ve heard lots about you guys.” You replied, Saeyoung nervously  squeezing your hand as he watched Zen’s face. Zen was the tough one to trick; he was an actor so it was super easy to tell when others were bluffing around him.

“All good things, I hope?” Zen looked at you curiously and you flushed before turning teasingly to Saeyoung.

“Mostly,” Saeyoung sent you a small smile and you smiled back before finishing your sentence. “You know Saeyoung, he has to throw some weird facts in about everyone. He was telling me about the time he sent a picture of him dressed as a maid and you-”

“Okay! I get it, he’s an annoying jerk who promised not to tell that to anyone.” Zen’s face dropped into a pout and you internally ‘aww-ed’ when Briar leaned over to kiss his bottom lip that was sticking out.

Soon after, the service started which made it hard to talk to anyone. As Yoosung was saying his vows, you looked over to find Saeyoung swiping away at a tear that had filled his eyes and you reached over and reattached your hands, squeezing gently. “You okay?” You whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, leaning his head on your shoulder. “I’ll tell you more later but I never expected to be friends with these people for this long, let alone see my best friend get married. Just kinda hit me all at once.” You didn’t respond, opting to rest your head on top of his and you both stayed like that, your breathing in sync with each other for the rest of the ceremony.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I think that was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” Zen remarked once Yoosung and Wenyn had walked out of the venue as man and wife. “It’s time to head over to the reception.”

You and Saeyoung took your time walking over to the reception hall, your hands still connected and a comfortable silence settling over the both of you. “What did you mean earlier?”

Saeyoung stopped and pulled you to a small bench, both of you sitting down, your thighs pressed together. “When I met this group of people, I was working for a secret agency as a hacker. I couldn’t make friends then and when I did, I’d have to change my identity eventually and never talk to them again. With the help from Jumin, I was able to successfully get out and start over after deleting my data and information from their systems.” Saeyoung turned his body slightly to face  you and you could see how hard this was for him. His lip was trembling  and he had a deep sadness etched in his eyes that was replacing the normally playful gleam. “That’s also a reason why I never met anyone romantically, I didn’t want them to get to close and then have to hurt them in the long run.”

“But you don’t have to hide anymore, you can be with someone now.” You pointed out and Saeyoung smiled sadly. “Have you thought that maybe…” you trailed off, shaking your head almost like you were physically trying to rid yourself of the thought. “Never mind.”

“You can ask me if you want to,” Saeyoung encouraged, his smile causing your heart to stutter for a moment before it permanently picked up speed. You swallowed hard and wiped your sweaty hands on your skirt before smoothing it out, playing with the hem to avoid meeting the eyes that you continuously find yourself lost in.

“Just hypothetically… do you think you’ve already met the person you could be with romantically?” Your heartbeat was in your ears and you could barely hear his response after you turned to look him in the eyes. Those damn eyes. They were already hard to resist but when he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world and you were sitting so close to him that you could feel his breath on your nose, those were the only things in the world you could look at in that moment; everything else in the world had faded dim behind those golden eyes.

“MC…” Saeyoung’s hand came up to gently push your bangs from your eyes and when he did so, his fingers lightly brushed your forehead before his palm rested on your cheek. “I…” he inched closer to you and you could feel his breath against your lips. Not wanting to waste a moment more not kissing Saeyoung, you met him the rest of the way. The kiss was awkward and clumsy and your teeth clashed quite a few times - it was his first kiss after all - but everything about it in that moment was just so Saeyoung and it had you yearning for more. Saeyoung’s other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you up so you were straddling him, your knees resting on either side of his legs on the bench, feet dangling off. Once he had pulled you closer, his tongue quickly darted out in search of yours and when you eagerly met his with your own, he moaned softly, sending a shiver down your spine. Pulling away once, he softly pecked your lips again before helping you off his lap. “Well that was…” you giggled as he adjusted his pants, hands covering his crotch, and waited for him to speak. “That was-”

“A sight for sore eyes?” A black haired man cut off Saeyoung and you watched as his cheeks flushed red at the sight of the older man. “I wasn’t aware this was a soft-core sex warehouse, I thought it was a wedding reception.”

“Um, Jumin… this is my girlfriend, MC. Darling, you remember me telling you about Jumin?” You immediately straightened up where you were sitting, eager to make a good impression on another one of Saeyoung’s friends.

“Yes, I do. Saeyoung told me that you helped him get out of a bit of a sticky situation. You seem like a very good man to have done that for him, and without you I never would have met him. So, thank you. And you must be Luce?” You directed your attention to the small redheaded girl standing side by side with Jumin.

She nodded her head and Jumin cleared his throat. It was crystal clear that when he was in a room, he naturally commanded the attention of everyone around him and you found yourself shrinking into Saeyoung’s side as he fixed his stare on you. “We should be heading in, yes? We wouldn’t want the bride and groom to think we’re all being rude.”

Once Jumin and his wife walked inside, you buried your head in Saeyoung’s chest, face blaring red in shame. “That was mortifying!”

You could feel his laugh vibrate through his chest as he cupped the back of your head holding you to him. “At least now they have no reason to doubt us!”

Pulling away from him you frowned before standing up. “We should head on in,”

“We should,” Saeyoung agreed, linking your fingers together. You turned to go and as you did, he pulled you back to him, sweetly connecting your lips once more. As your chest collided with his, you let out a ‘hmph’ sound that caused the redhead to smile and softly nip at your lip. “I couldn’t help myself, you’re so cute.”

“So are you,” you admitted and he laughed before letting you lead him into the wedding reception.

The reception was already filled with dancing, drinking, and all other kinds of celebrating when you and Saeyoung finally made it inside the room and when Yoosung and Saeyoung made eye contact, the blond quickly made his way over to you both.

Without saying anything, Saeyoung wrapped his arms tightly around Yoosung’s shoulders and you saw his amethyst eyes widen in shock before closing as he let out a deep sigh, wrapping his arms tightly around his best friends waist. You looked away from the pair, letting them have their moment, and made eye contact with Jaehee who quickly made her way over to you.

“It seems you and Saeyoung are getting along well?” She nudge your side and sent a wink your way, causing your face to flush as you look at the ground. “I mean, I’m glad it’s you he ended up bringing, instead of a complete stranger.”

“I’m starting to think you’re right,” you admitted, glancing at Saeyoung and when your eyes met he smiled and threw a cheeky wink at you before excusing himself from his conversation and crossing the room to you, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“Jaehee, what are you and my gorgeous girlfriend of six months up to?” You felt Saeyoung pull you closer and you immediately relaxed in his arms, moving side to side to the beat of the music.

Jaehee narrowed her eyes at him and sighed, pushing a piece of her hair out of the way. “You’re really subtle at this,” she remarked sarcastically. “Anyway, I should be getting back. I’ll catch up with you both before I leave.” You watched as she wandered back over to her girlfriend and taking her hand, spinning her around.

Turning in Saeyoung’s arms, he tightened his grip on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me”

“I don’t dance.” His voice was low and husky as apposed to his normal higher voice with a teasing lilt, something that sent a shock straight to your stomach and caused butterflies to permanently reside there.

“Please,” you begged, tugging on an unruly lock of hair that was sticking out from the back of his head. “For me?”

Saeyoung brought his lips up to your ear, brushing them against it as he spoke. “Everyone will be looking at you if I take you on that dance floor. I want you for myself. Next time, I won’t be able to handle myself if you wear a skirt that short, you’re driving me crazy.” That last word was barely a whisper but it left you a mess on your insides, your legs felt like jelly.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” You whispered back and before you could say anything else, his lips connected with yours for the third time that night.

“Aw, look at these two love birds.” Zen teased as you both broke apart. “Do we hear more wedding bells in the future?”

You and Saeyoung shared a look before bursting out laughing. No one but Jaehee, Cordelia and Yoosung understood why something like that was funny, but they all looked on at the both of you with small smiles playing on their lips - they were just glad Saeyoung was happy.

After the reception, Saeyoung and you were in his car, his hand resting possessively on your thigh and when he pulled up to your apartment building, he turned to you. “MC,”

“Saeyoung.” You replied, reaching out to brush some hair from his eyes. “I don’t want to go inside. That means leaving you.”

“I’ll see you the same time next week.” He replied, a faraway look in his eyes. “I can’t wait to be your fake boyfriend again.”

“I can’t wait either,” you agreed and leaned in to rest your forehead on his for a moment before getting out of the car.

“Hey, wait!” You turned around and watched as Saeyoung got out of his car, walking up to you and cupping your face. “I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend next week.”

“You don't? Well, I was under the impression that we were getting along well but...” The end of your sentence fell off as your brows furrowed in confusion and he was quick to retrace what he said.

“No, not like that! I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend because I want to be your real boyfriend. I know it seems sudden, but it’s not really! We talked for a week before this and I enjoy your company and people say that when you know, you know. And I know. You’re the one for me, right now in this second.” His eyes were pleading with you and your heart swelled as you listened to the words coming out of his mouth.

“Would you be interested in being my real boyfriend?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips as you repeated the words he asked you a week ago, only this time you were asking for real.

“Only if you’re interested in being my real girlfriend!” Saeyoung replied, before his lips delicately brushed yours, just long enough that he could inhale your breath and leave your heart beating in your chest.

“Text me when you get home, I want to make sure you made it safe.” You said after he had pulled away to study your face, eyes brimming with tears. “Hey, what’s going on?” You cupped Saeyoung’s cheek and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and letting a tear roll down to his chin.

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” he replied, eyes opening and looking at you intently. “It feels nice to have someone care like that.”

“Well get used to it mister,” your thumb brushed under his eyes, catching another tear before it could fall. “I’m gonna care the heck out of you.”

Saeyoung laughed and you found yourself laughing with him, eyes welling with tears as well, and when he noticed you were both crying tears of joy, he laughed harder, causing you to as well. “I should get going, let you sleep.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you whispered, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. “I just said hello.”

“It’s not a goodbye.” Saeyoung promised, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise, it’s a see you soon. And I’ll text you when I get home safely.”

You looked up at him to find you already looking at you. Saeyoung was looking at you like he couldn’t believe you were real, almost like you were part of a dream and every moment he was expecting to wake up. “You better,” you jokingly threatened before standing on your tip toes to press one last sweet kiss to his lips.

After watching him drive off, you followed the steps up to your apartment and hopped in the shower, checking your phone after you had dried off. Two notifications had popped up in the time you were away from your phone.

First checking the message from Saeyoung, a smile danced across your lips as you read it: Just got home. sweet dreams. I know I’ll dream of seeing you again.

You quickly replied that you were glad he made it back and you’d dream of him as well before you checked the second notification from Wedding Bells. It was a message from someone on your list of 10 people and you exited out of it before deleting the app. There was no need for it anymore; you had someone to bring to weddings and family functions now.

A week later when you introduced your family to your boyfriend Saeyoung, you proudly showed off your relationship with him, eager to display to your family how amazing he is. He did well too, got along with your younger cousins and helped your mom cook dinner and by the end of the night, everyone couldn’t wait to make plans to see the both of you again. Saeyoung had not only wormed his way into your heart, but the rest of your family’s as well.

“I think they liked me,” Saeyoung joked once you guys had left your parents house. You both were back at your apartment, him holding you in his arms as you both lounged on the couch.

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, moving your head to press a kiss to his jawline. “They loved you. I haven’t seen my family that enthusiastic about anything related to me since I graduated college. I’ll have to keep you around purely for that fact.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have a huge family for you to meet.” Saeyoung’s voice drooped and you shook your head smiling at him.

“What are you talking about? I met your family at Yoosung’s wedding. Like it or not, but those people love you. Family isn’t blood, it’s the people who love you unconditionally. And there’s a whole bunch of them for you specifically.” You had turned so you were facing him. “Everyone who I met that day cares so deeply about you, never for one second think that you don’t have a family.”

“What would I do without you?” Saeyoung’s forehead came to rest against yours and you laughed, ruffling his hair.

“Perish, probably.”

“I care for you more than I probably should.” He admitted, honey eyes locked on your own.

“I don’t know about that.” You responded. “I care for you a lot too.”

Saeyoung leaned in to gently brush his lips against your own and he pulled back, a goofy grin on his face. “Am I the smartest person in the world for creating that app, or what?”

“Or what.” Grinning back at him, you squealed as his fingers prodded your side, hitting a ticklish spot. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Your laughter rang out in your quiet apartment and Saeyoung wanted to record that sound to have it play whenever he forgot how beautiful your laugh was. “I’m extremely grateful that Jaehee recommended me the app that you made that resulted in me meeting you.”

Saeyoung didn’t respond, instead opting to hold you close and pull you onto his lap before both of you settling back down. He played with your hair as your eyes started drooping and once your soft snores filled the room, his eyes closed as well, content to fall asleep holding you.

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

Get To Know Your Tav!

I was tagged by @my-favourite-zhent , so I'll put my Ruganfucker Tav.

This is Luce Locke (she/her), Wood Half-Elf, College of Lore Bard. My failgirl who has risen to the occasion.

What is Your Tav's...

Favorite Weapon?

Wits first and foremost. But physical weapons: Rapier now that she's slightly less of a failure. Pre-tadpole, daggers because they were conveniently discrete (and cheap). Luce begins her adventure with almost no combat skills at all but slowly learns to spar with Wyll.

Style of Combat? In short: evasive maneuvers. In long: what I like to describe as "If they can't catch you, the consequences of what you just said can't hurt you."

Deepest Desire? To belong.

Guilty Pleasure? Pub Quizzes. Trivia. Little tiny useless facts. Fucking loves them. It's the whole reason she became a 'bard' in the first place. No one gives you a second glance if you're at the pub too often if you're a bard. "Lass, why do you know all of this stuff?" "I'm uh...College of...Lore?" "I don't know enough about bards to argue with that."

Best-Kept Secret? She's very deeply in debt to multiple pubs across the city and banned from most of them. But has been consistently swapping identities for the last three decades so they haven't yet pieced together that they've all been screwed by the same woman. Fatal Flaw? Flighty. Staying in one place makes her nervous. The need to keep moving so consequences don't catch up with you is too deeply ingrained for her to ever move past it. (Also the regrettable neck tattoo. It gave her a defining feature and made the pub-hopping a little more difficult.) Favorite Scent?

Cloves. She associates it with winter feasting and happy drunks.

Favorite Spell/Cantrip(s)? Vicious Mockery -- she learned that one almost entirely on accident. Speak to Animals -- she didn't learn it until her adventure. But she can't help but consider how useful it could've been pre-tadpole. She's not above eating food procured by a friendly rat. Pet Peeve? Stereotypical bards. Their stupid little outfits. Their flouncy word choice. The flashy colors. Everything about them is grating. It may be envy, it may be some internal self-hatred. It may be me projecting. But she fucking hates Volo and Alfira. Regardless, she's made sure they get their best endings...just far away from her. It also makes Milil a delight to meet. He's so salty. Bad Habit? Keeps running her fucking mouth and ending up in situations.

She didn't, but the sheer implications of this screencap were too good. Hidden Talent? Can sleep anywhere at any time, no matter what. Blinks too long during Raphael monologues to get a nap in. Semi-eidetic memory, but usually for the most seemingly unimportant things. Leisure Activity? Casual breaking and entering. "Oh, I'm so sorry...wrong house." Favorite Drink? Anything that's free. Tends towards spiced drinks. Comfort Food? Scones. Despite the incident.* Favorite Person(s)? Romantically: Halsin and Shadowheart Platonically: Karlach and Wyll Favored Display of Affection?

Touch. Alone and transient for too long, you end up starved for it.

Fondest Childhood Memory? Getting to visit the city for the first time. It was so deeply foreign to the life with an Elf Ranger mother that it was enthralling. It's why she settled in the Gate when she left home. Anything Else You'd Like to Share?

She is a pre-canon Ruganfucker. I realize now I called her a Ruganfucker early on and then never brought him up again. They were not continual or long-term.

Luce Drawings: Current Day Luce Casual Hangout

Outfits Answered Asks: Favorite Items

*Favorite Memory

Ideal Home

I can't remember who's been tagged, but tag yourself and say I did it if you want. uwu

[foodscarf]

Let’s go Trisha with 10, 16, 17, 28?

YESSSS DRISH

10. Who’s the first person your oc goes to to talk about something that made them happy? Sad? Angry?

Pre-time prison? No one, unless you include her python Florence. Trish does not talk about their feelings if they can help it, and especially not to his family.

Post-time prison? It's a toss up between Touma and Luce, maybe Shrike if she's also feeling like going and doing something physical with this whole Emotions thing

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

10 step skincare routine followed by making sure every entrance in the house is locked, kissing Touma goodnight, and cuddling up with her Barret M82.

17. If your oc had a social media page, what would it be like? What would they post about? How much personal information would they feel comfortable posting on it? How often would they update it?

Trisha would straight up be running an ARG loosely based around good ol Time Prison

28. What’s your favorite thing about this oc?

Fuck, probably how fun it is to contrast his deadpan vocal delivery and lack of outward emotion with just the most batshit crazy actions and scenarios. Like it's just so much fun

[captain-s-rogers]

Have A Little Faith In Me

(gif credit to the creator)

Part One

Master List Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC // Clint Barton x OFC Word Count: 1,900 Warnings: none? A/N: Debuting for OC Day 2020! Here’s the first part of the rewrite of my first ever Marvel series! If you want to be added to my tag list please let me know! Feedback is cool :)

Rockefeller PR firm. Though not connected to the famed family by any means, legend had it the J.D. Rockefeller himself had hired the founding members to handle his public relations in the very early success of the family. As a show of gratitude, in addition to a substantial cash and client flow, Mr. Rockefeller had allowed the firm to use the family’s prosperous name.

Anyone who was anyone in New York City knew of and often employed Rockefeller PR. The firm put on benefit events like they were going out of style, constantly hosting galas and banquets for one charity or another. Of course, with the guest lists for the events most often restricted to Manhattan’s elite, the donations poured in left and right. The firm had reached their renowned status as the most profitable and most charitable over the years. 

In more recent years, Sophia Hawkins and Lucy Cleveland had made names for themselves as the firm’s most successful representatives. That success had given the clout they needed to swing an event entirely different from anything the firm had done in a long time -- possibly ever. 

For starters, this event wasn’t being held to raise funds for an art gallery or secure investors for a corporation. This event was being held to raise funds to donate to several different organizations that supported the US troops and veterans. Not to mention, the event was made open to the public -- another component which had never been a part of a Rockefeller PR event. The thing was 1940s USO; everyone who showed up to attend the event was required to dress accordingly and make a donation at the door, in addition to their purchased ticket, of course

Both Sophia’s and Lucy’s grandfathers had fought in World War II, which had been Sophia’s inspiration for the idea. The firm’s executives hadn’t been keen on the idea when the two women first presented it, but between the excellent publicity that would come from supporting the troops and veterans, and the girls’ track record of successful events, convincing them to endorse the event hadn’t taken but a few minutes.  

The night of the benefit arrived, with a line forming out the door a couple of hours before the designated start time. Sophia and Lucy were dressed to the nines, double checking that everything -- from the menu to the music -- was in order. The servers were dressing in period-appropriate waiter and waitress uniforms, and the trio of women singing were emulating a 1940s singing group to a T. While the musical act ran through their era-specific setlist, Sophia and Lucy shined up the finishing touches on the decor. 

“Soph!” Lucy called out across the banquet hall, “do we need to alter the table settings? Caitlyn still has place cards for high-profile clients set out.” 

“We can just toss the cards, since there’s no guest list and we’re closing the doors as max capacity,” Sophia replied, already plucking name cards from a nearby table. 

“Do we have enough food?” Lucy continued. 

“We’ve got the chefs cooking for one-hundred-fifty and there’s one-hundred seats. I think we’re okay,” Sophia smiled. “Calm down, Luce. Everything is going according to plan. Nobody can plan like we can.”

Finally, Lucy was able to calm down. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” 

The women smiled at each other; everything was going to be perfect. Despite Lucy’s worries, they were well aware that this had been one of the smoothest events they had ever planned. Not having to please a bunch of snobby clients made the process a breeze. 

With only a few minutes to go, Sophia and Lucy decided they were happy with the state of things. After a short breather, they told the doorman to begin letting guests in the hall. 

Manhattan’s elite mingled with some lesser known citizens, filling the room and milling about the dance floor with freshly served drinks. The two event planners flitted about, adjusting table placements as necessary, making sure the food and drinks stayed well-stocked. The turnout was set to be huge, and within ten minutes of the doors opening, the hall was filled to capacity. 

Once everyone had found their seat, Sophia made a brief yet spectacular speech welcoming everyone and thanking them for their donations -- with the total amount to be named later in the evening -- the musical act took to the stage. Drinks continued to flow, the appetizers were served, and the nostalgia of the songs pulled a few couples to the dance floor. Sophia and Lucy stood at the back of the room, admiring their handiwork. 

“Ya know, Soph, I think we did a good job with this one,” Lucy mused, accepting a martini from the bartender.

“I think you’re right,” Sophia agreed. She sipped wine from the glass in her hand and took another cursory glance over the room, ever vigilant for any little thing that might go wrong. 

“Everyone seems to be having a good time,” Lucy added. “And, speaking of a good time, I do believe that gentleman in the corner is eyeing you. He has been all night.”

Sophia choked her drink. “You’re kidding, right? Lucy, tonight is not the night for your games, friend.”

“I’m not playing games,” Lucy laughed. “See, over by the band? Tall, blond. Might have to call the doctor, since he’s been nursing that beer for over an hour. But, yes, friend, he keeps glancing over at you.”

“I think you’re full of shit,” Sophia mumbled, though she looked somewhat hopeful as she threw a casual glance in the direction Lucy had indicated. She locked eyes with the man Lucy had nodded toward. 

“Still think I’m full of shit?”  

Sophia scoffed, shaking her head before she downed the rest of her wine and set the glass on the bar. Yes, she had been hopeful seconds ago, but this man was beyond handsome -- and she was on the clock, to boot. 

“Go, talk to him!” Lucy urged.

“Not a chance, Luce. We’re working, remember?” 

Before Lucy could come up with a suitable response to change her friend’s mind, the man in question started towards the two women. When he was close enough for them to see he was, for certain, headed in their direction, Lucy whispered a quick ‘good luck’ in Sophia’s ear, then made herself busy checking on the status of supper.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the man began, “but are you Sophia Hawkins?”

Sophia nodded. “I am. Can I help you with something?

“I’m Steve Rogers,” he introduced, extending a hand. When Sophia slipped her hand into his for a confident but cautious handshake, he continued.  “I wanted to thank you for coordinating this event. It’s a great cause, and I’m very impressed with the level of authenticity.”

Sophia faltered for a moment, running through her mental files so could explain the familiarity of his name. She recovered quickly, pasting a polite, professional smile on her face. 

“We did our best to make it as authentic as possible. My grandfather and great uncle were in World War II, and my co-planner, Lucy’s grandfather was in the war, as well. We were able to find a lot of photographic evidence to go off of.”

Steve hesitated, casting an uneasy glance at the ground before meeting her eyes again. “Yeah, my grandfather was in the war, too. I think he would appreciate how well you pulled it all off.”

“Why, thank you,” she smiled. They stood in silence for a moment, and Sophia noticed the authentic detail of the Army uniform Steve was wearing -- even with the best costume designers, nothing they had provided for the waitstaff or singers was this authentic. The longer she looked, the more familiar the uniform seemed. 

Steve met her eyes. “Everything all right?”

Sophia nodded and quickly dismissed the strange familiarity as something she had seen in her own family’s photos. “Is the uniform your grandfather’s?”

Again, Steve hesitated, almost as though he was looking for the right words to answer an otherwise easy question. “It was. Found it in my mother’s attic before the event. Since time-period attire was required, seemed like the uniform was the way to go.”

“It suits you,” Sophia smiled. She turned away for a moment to ask the bartender for another glass of wine. 

Steve quickly took a sip of his beer while he waited for her to return to their conversation. He looked around the room, catching sight of the dance floor; a warm blush creeped over his cheeks and down his neck. The tempo had changed from upbeat and quick to slow and steady. A surge of confidence swelled in his chest, pushing him to act on impulse. Steve finished off his beer and set the bottle on the counter, then extended his hand to Sophia again. 

“Forgive me if I’m out of line, but would you like to dance, Ms. Hawkins?” Steve asked.

Sophia’s blush matched his as she turned to set the wine glass on the bar. She accepted Steve’s hand. “Call me Sophia, and I’d love to dance.”

The couple eased into a simple waltz as the music began to build from the first verse into the bridge of the song. They danced in silence through the chorus, concentrating on the steps before changing focus to each other. 

“You told me about your family, but what made you decide to do an event open to the public? I’ve been told your firm generally caters Manhattan’s high-status citizens.”

“We do, you’re right,” Sophia confirmed. “Lucy and I have done so many of those, we wanted to do something different. We were looking through old family photos together one night, just for fun, and the idea to do a benefit for the military came to us. The USO theme followed.”

“I don’t want to sound like a broken record,” Steve smiled, “but you did a really fantastic job.”

Sophia showed her appreciation for his compliment with a modest smile. When the song ended, though she was reluctant to do so, she thanked Steve for the dance and turned to return to the bar.

“Sophia?” he called, gently grabbing her wrist to keep her from getting too far..

She turned to face him, brows raised in question. “Mm?”

“Would you want to get dinner some time? Maybe get to know each other better. Sometime when you’re not working.” 

Sophia didn’t bother to stop the ear-to-ear grin that spread over her face. “I would love that.” 

A pen was handy in the pocket of her dress, since she was, in fact, working. She took Steve’s hand again and jotted her number across his palm. She clicked the pen before putting it back in her pocket. 

“I’ll call you in a few days,” Steve promised. “We’ll work out the details.”

“Sounds good.” Sophia nodded and winked at him. She turned to walk away, this time looking over her shoulder to add, “Thanks for the dance, Captain.”

He froze for a moment, fearing that Sophia was aware of his full identity. Her eyes glanced to the patches on his jacket before she turned away from him; that had been what tipped her off to the rank. When she was back at the bar and conversing with her friend, Steve looked down at the phone number written across his palm. With a suppressed but victorious smile, he worked his way back into the crowd.

@arrowsandmixtapes​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @growningupgeek​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @kitkatd7​ @patzammit​ @sagechanoafterdark​ @what-is-your-plan-today​

[aftergloom]

About & Content Advisory

“nxctuary” is a person in the age of majority in her home country. All posts are considered to have some degree of adult content and are labelled with content advisories where necessary in the tags, often prefaced by “cw:” for “content warning” to facilitate filtering for potential triggers. “Nxctuary” is a pseudonym, but you're welcome to call her Kira, Luce, Lethe, or octobertown as she’s written (or currently writes) fanfic and original fic under any of these names.

She prefers she/her as a pronoun. 

By default, assume that this blog uses explicit language and shares explicit sexual content. Any fandom content created or shared on this blog should be presumed to be explicit in nature. In no uncertain terms: this is an adult blog, for other adults, curated by an adult, sharing adult content.

Where appropriate, tags are attached to posts to enable you to better control what you see. Included is a list of frequently occurring tags and content warnings that are used here. Given that this list is a living document, it may be updated or adjusted at any time. 

FANFIC/MASTERLIST

Some things get posted here but the body of my work lives at Ao3.

A NOTE ON THE CONTENT

This is a multi-ship, multi-fandom blog. Current interests are per the ships list, but you get a bit of everything in here. The greater focus of the content that I’m producing currently is centered around Star Wars film franchise, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Star Wars: Rebels, legends material, graphic novels, and whatever the hell else catches my fancy. 

I have background work in problematic ships and while I might not be actively pursuing or posting content for them, I do have WIPs that I’m trying to finish. When they go live, chap updates get posted. Don’t like it? Filter the tag or don’t follow.

My sideblogs are noted at the bottom of this page in the event that you’re searching for specific sliver of something that doesn’t get folded into this blog. 

SHIPS

#Darth Maul x Reader Star Wars, all universes  CW: F/M, all warnings apply Active: Reading/Writing

#Feral Opress x Reader Star Wars, all universes CW: F/M, all warnings apply Active: Reading/Writing

#Savage Opress x Reader Star Wars, all universes CW: F/M, all warnings apply Active: Reading/Writing

#Feral Opress x OC (Kai Dara Koth) Star Wars, all universes CW: F/M, all warnings apply Active: Reading/Writing

#Opress Bros x Reader Star Wars, all universes CW: F/M, all warnings apply Active: Reading/Writing

#mauldra Star Wars, Maul/Eldra Kaitis, AU CW: F/M, Enemies to lovers, power dynamics, explicit sexual content, violence, various kinks. NO underage. Active: Reading/Writing

#feralsoka Star Wars, Feral Opress/Ahsoka Tano, AU CW: F/M, character death Active: Reading/Writing

#reylo Star Wars, Rey/Kylo Ren, or Rey/Ben Solo CW: F/M, Enemies to lovers, power dynamics, explicit sexual content, violence, various kinks Active: Writing

#griddlehark  The Locked Tomb trilogy by Tamsyn Muir, Gideon/Harrow or Gideon Nav/Harrowhawk Nonagesimus CW: F/F, horror themes and gore Active: Reading

#ryro X-Men Movieverse, Rogue/Pyro or Anna Marie/John Allerdyce CW: F/M, Infidelity, power dynamics, friends to enemies to lovers, explicit sexual content Active: Reading

#romy X-Men (All verses), Rogue/Remy LeBeau CW: F/M, enemies to lovers (Evo) Active: Re-writing

#dramione Harry Potter, Draco/Hermione CW: F/M, enemies to lovers, explicit sexual content Active: Reading

#drarry Harry Potter, Draco/Harry CW: M/M, enemies to lovers, explicit sexual content Active: No

FANDOMS

#ACOTAR (A Court of Thorns and Roses)

#ACOMAF (A Court of Mist and Fury)

#ACOWAR (A Court of Wings and Ruin)

#Crescent City

#The Locked Tomb (Gideon the Ninth, Harrow the Ninth)

#Lore Olympus

#Nevernight

#Shadow & Bone

#Six of Crows

#Star Wars

#Star Wars: The Clone Wars

#Star Wars: Rebels

#Throne of Glass

#The Sandman

#X-Men

#X-Men: Evolution

FREQUENTLY USED TAGS (FIC)

I really had to think about this. It reads like the weirdest grocery list ever. For your convenience, I’ve compiled a collection of CW tags I’ve used before (and I will likely dabble in again) in the event that you need to parse what you see from me on your feed. I’ll try to stick to these tags as best I can when posting new work of my own, or when posting fic recs.

#cw: abo

#cw: abo tropes

#cw: BDSM

#cw: blood

#cw: bondage

#cw: breath play

#cw: character death

#cw: choking

#cw: cuckolding

#cw: cunnilingus

#cw: daddy kink

#cw: darkfic

#cw: degradation

#cw: depression

#cw: D/s

#cw: dub con OR #cw: dubious consent

#cw: explicit

#cw: explicit sexual content

#cw: explicit language

#cw: fellatio

#cw: group sex

#cw: gore

#cw: hair-pulling

#cw: hotwifing

#cw: horror

#cw: infidelity

#cw: knotting

#cw: masturbation

#cw: oral sex

#cw: praise kink

#cw: primal kink

#cw: spanking

#cw: suicidal ideation

#cw: violence

#cw: voyeurism

SIDEBLOGS

@fuckyeahroguegambit

Obsessive adoration of Marvel's merry mutants from South of the Mason Dixie: Rogue & Gambit, fuck yeah. ROMY.

@maulfvckers

Low-key Sith simping sideblog: all Maul. Nothing done by halves. Curated Maul-centric reblogs and recs. NSFW/18+

@darthsomethingsomething Warm-up smutty sideblog for Opress Bros ficlets/drabbles/hcs. Nothing over 2k. Deeply NSFW.

[gloves94]

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 2

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Abuse!

Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War… But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life’s purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness…

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

1 9 9 1

"Oi! You said you'd give me five quid for it!" A young girl accused with a stern expression at an older boy. "A quid per pound."

This had not been a fair deal.

The boy wore a smug expression on his fox like face. On one hand he weighted a fat paper bag filled with Dairy Milk chocolate bars and Maltesers amongst other chocolatey goods. The rest of his squad, all just as tall and hulking  snickered as they greedily ate the candy.

"I said five quid per pound of quality candy, this is all rubbish. Besides, I hate chocolate! You get squat Dots." He laughed loudly before chewing on a mouthful of chocolate bars.

"But you're still eating it!" She pointed upset.

The group laughed cruelly.

"You better give me my money Nico!" She threatened both fists clenched at her side, eyebrows furrowed into a scowl.

"Or what?" He huffed towering over the eleven-year-old poking her chest. "What are you going to do about it?" He challenged pushing her. "Go and cry to Ms. Wool about it?" He pushed her to the ground, and she fell back to the pavement on her behind glaring at the bullies. She should've really thought this out more thoroughly.

"Just you wait-" She growled out rolling up her sleeves, looking as menacing as she could.

It was then that a startled look crossed Nico's face. He turned white. "Let's get out of here!" His friend slapped the other on the chest and looking terrified as the three scrambled away quickly even dropping the bag of candy on the alley way.

"Ha!" She bounced to her feet triumphantly.

Yeah! That'll show them!

It was then that she felt a strong grip seize her shoulder.

Uh-Oh

Her legs moved but she felt an object come down hard on her shoulder. She spat a curse and looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Cowell, the owner of the General Store she had just stolen candy from, and the bitter old man did not look pleased. His black cane buried on her arm.

"Oh! You're going nowhere this time you scantly thief!" He pulled her to him and grabbed her shoulder with his hand.

Head sunken low, he walked her back to where she came from. All the way grumbling and muttering insults and curses.

"Should've known you were up to no good, same as always," he muttered more to himself before ringing the doorbell of the old building.

Ms. Wool opened the door. A plump woman with a pig's face that always seemed to be wearing the dreaded color pink. A cloud of gagging  perfume usually wafted around the middle-aged woman. Her face immediately morphed into a deep scowl that made her fat bottom lip stick out.

"Can't let you out of my sight, can I?" She glowered at the girl.

"Caught her with her sticky fingers looting my candy jars this time," the upset man pushed her forward making her stumble towards the entrance of the orphanage.

"Oh Phil," Ms. Wool shook her head slightly before digging into a coin purse. "What's the damage this time?"

"'S just candy Cordelia," The old man said gruffly leaning on his cane dismissing her offer. "'Ust make sure this one 'ere stays out of my store!" He pointed his cane at the girl's chest making her inch back.

Ms. Wool's sharp hands sank into her shoulders as she apologized to the store owner and brought the girl inside of the orphanage. Nel didn't feel her stomach sink until the door closed.

"Can't let you out of my sight, can I? You little thieving tyke!" Ms. Wood's polished hand reached for the girl's ear and she angrily pulled on it as she dragged her away into her hellish office. Other children that lived in the home laughed and pointed as they saw the much familiar scene unfold before them. Ms. Wool's office was a damp place, colored in warm pastel shades and drying flowers with floors and ceilings from the 1910's the time when Wool's Orphanage had originally been built.

"I'm not scared of you!" She declared stupidly. "Oh, you should be! You stupid girl!" Wool scolded. "I've had it up to here with you!" She crossed an arm over her forehead. "I've tried being nice, I've tried being patient. Seems like this is the only way you'll understand." She said opening a door next to her office and tossing her in. "In the Chokey you go!"

The door slammed on her nose.

The Chokey was a narrow cupboard that was filled with broken glass sticking out of the walls with nails on the door. It was a place of utter terror that the mere threat of it was enough to make children tremble in fright and fall straight into line. The cupboard was so narrow you couldn't sit or squat in it without being hurt. Sometimes kids were kept here for hours. Nel presently had the record for the longest lock in having been kept in for a whole day. Something she was awfully proud of and she felt gave her some pomp and superiority over the other children in the home.

"Let me out of here you wretched witch!" She shouted at the door bending her hand on a glass free spot on the door.

"You will stay in there until you finally learn your lesson! Even if its tomorrow!"

She heard a door slam signaling that Wool had exited her office.

Nel stood in the dark room. Eyes peeled; angry fists clenched at the sides. All she had wanted to do was to make some money to buy some art supplies for her own. After all she was an orphan, not possessing a single penny to her name. It wasn't fair. No matter how hard she tried to hold on to any material possession - every time she got something, anything nice be it a candy bar, socks or a sweater, the gift was usually always picked away by the older, stronger kids in the home. Sometimes she wondered what her life would've been like if she hadn't been dumped in this doldrum.

Nel stayed locked up for hours. Her bored eyes attempted to find shapes in the darkness through a strained vision. Scratching a nail against the door's paint she attempted to carve her name into it as she carefully calculated and planned her next scheme to make money. Perhaps she could scam some local kids into buying pet rocks or swindle them into some equally ridiculous scam. She made a mental note to next time make Nico and his goons pay her before engaging in business with him.

That was until the door opened. The light momentarily blinded her.

"There you are!" A younger voice spoke and the eleven-year-old was brought into a warm embrace. "Are you okay? If you know that Nico Shaffer and his gang are going to do you dirty why do you keep hanging out with them?" Lucy, Nel's absolutely favorite person in the world, said holding on to her arms with care.

Lucy was only a couple of years older than Nel. The young girl couldn't remember a time in which anybody else that had ever cared for her. Certainly not Ms. Wool. The girl was more of an older sister than just a fellow housemate.

"I have to show 'em who's the boss around here," Nel said with a huff before sticking her hand into her pocket and handing her friend some candy. "I got you some Whoopers," she grinned handing over her friend the candy.

"Sometimes I think you enjoy setting off Ms. Wool," Lucy shook her head and regardless took the candy and pocketed with a smile.

"Only sometimes," the girl smiled cheekily.

The two girls made out of the office quickly hand in hand.

"Stealing is wrong Nel. Don't do it again." the older one scolded to deaf ears that would most definitely do it again. "What did you even want that money for?"

"I wanted to buy some paint. You know? So that I could paint my walls."

"Your walls or Wool's walls?" the Lucy rolled her eyes knowing that the young girl would probably paint a splash or horrendous colors in the cafeteria which would mortify matron. "You know Ms. Wool would most definitely not allow that."

The younger one smirked slightly having been caught in her mischievous plan to bring some life into the dull building. "We practically live in a jail Luce, it's not fair. Maybe just- maybe some color would make everybody's day better? It was for the greater good!"

"Hey Nel! Heard you stole some candy from old man Cowell!" A younger boy called from the corridor. Enjoying the attention, the girl turned and threw a candy at him "You bet!"

"Stop it! You're going to get in more trouble," Lucy slapped her hand as they  reached the small room were the young girl was kept to herself. Nel didn't care. That boy owed her now. She'd think of what favor she'd bug him with later. Maybe she'd ask him for his bread if she was ever locked up without dinner again.

Her room had once been the laundry room and broom and storage, but a bed had been added for the girl to sleep in. She slept there alone, mainly for the safety of others… You see, weirdthings tended to happen around the girl -

"Ms. Wool!" A loud sing song voice called. "Nel still has some candy and is keeping it to herself!" A most pesky snitch alarmed loudly.

Both girls turned to glare at Aisha by far Wool's favorite and a total kiss ass. Always wearing pink in an attempt to please their matron.

"Shut your mouth Aisha or I'll shut it for you!" The other shouted angrily from across the corridor.

It was then that Wool came stomping by from around the corner.

"SAINTDAY!" She bellowed her surname angrily. Her eyes scanned the corridor for the young girl before focusing on her. "Ah, there you are!" Her eyes turned into slits.

Aisha smirked looking pleased with herself.

Nel shrunk a little, hiding behind Lucy. She was bracing herself for the scold that would come from exiting the chokey when she saw that a tall man with a long white beard and peculiar lavender robes was trailing behind the wide matron.

Ms. Wool sank her hand into Nel's lower arm and dragged the girl inside of the small room, the man tailing behind entered as well. Lucy was locked out; she hung her shoulders lingering around ready to press her ear against the door. What a most peculiar looking man…  She thought to herself.

Wool knowingly stuck her head out before Lucy pressed her ear against the door and barked at her to get lost which sent the fourteen-year-old skulking away.

Back inside Wool turned her attention to the brunette. "What have you done now you wicked child?" She glared hands on hips demanding an answer.

"I did nothing, swear!" She said innocently raising up her hands looking at the older man with the half-moon glasses with an innocent expression.

Albus Dumbledore looked at the expression on the child's face that was sitting in the small bed. Despite the pout on her face there was an air of mischief that made him aware that he should know better when trusting her. It had been decades since the last time he had been to Wool's Orphanage. The last time had been under similar circumstances instead visiting a student with the last name Riddle.

"You will apologize to the man and tell me what you did!" Wool knelt and pinched the tender part of the girl's arm making her painfully hiss at the sensation.

"That is enough Ms. Wool," Dumbledore said sternly glaring at the Muggle woman.

"I am here on official school business," the man with the twinkling eyes said stroking his beard. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly and I have come to personally deliver Ms. Saintday her letter of acceptance."

"School of wizzah which what?" Wool cocked her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes in mistrust.

She took the letter from the man eyeing the parchment sealed with an official wax stamp with wary eyes. Nel never received any mail. As far as she knew there was nobody outside of the orphanage that would write to her.

Miss E. Saintday, Laundry Room, Wool's Orphanage, London.

Blinking twice she ripped the envelope open. Curiously reading the contents of the green letter head.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY Underneath was the Headmasters name. Followed by an acceptance, instructions for admission and a list of texts and materials that would be required by the school. The letter was signed by the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, in a curvy signature.

Nel hadn't even bothered to listen to what Wool was bickering about with the Headmaster.

"Is this real?" She asked the man with her eyes growing wide. "This is not a joke is it?"

"As real as you and I Ms. Saintday," The man smiled down at her kindly.

The man who had introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore explained that there was another world which was unknown to, to regular or non-magic people that were called Muggles and the Nel was a witch. A powerful being capable of magical powers. He explained this was all extremely secretive and that nobody must or should know. He explained that Hogwarts was a most prestigious school and the Wizarding School of the UK were most witches and wizards attended for seven years to earn their education.

"You don't want this one I'm telling you!" Wool suddenly laughed loudly. "She's brought me nothing but trouble since the day she was left in my doorstep!" Nel ignored her with a glare. "Set my curtains on fire, once somehow made a student magically appear on the roof, made my teapots sing! Summoned snakes out of cookie jars! Lightbulbs explode around her! All sorts of devilish things! I know she bullies the other kids. I don't know how she does it, I just haven't caught her yet. And school-" She laughed woefully. "Not a single knot or bolt in this one's empty head."  She knocked on the back of her head, which made the girl rub the sore spot. She turned to look at the Headmaster with fearful eyes. Would he withdraw his invitation now that he knew this?

"I believe I myself once set fire to my dorm's curtains. An atrocious shade of red. Accidentally of course," he smiled once again which brought some comfort to the orphan.

"Forget about it!" Wool exclaimed getting ready to exit the room. "I'm not going to fork a single penny over so that this one can go to a fancy boarding school to learn how to pull rabbits out of a hat!"

"I assure you that money will not be a problem Ms. Wool. There is a special fund set aside to assist students with financial needs. Of course, Ms. Saintday will have to maintain an outstanding average to maintain this scholarship."

"Ha! That's a lost cause," Wool huffed humorlessly.

She was ignored. The older Wizard stood up and met the girls' dark brown eyes. Eyes that to him seemed distantly familiar.

"So, what do you say Elowen? although I believe you go by Nel," he inquired.

"What do I say?" She repeated. If anybody had asked her what she really thought, she would've said this entire thing was a hoax. Maybe this funny looking man was actually a child napper, but anywhere was better than Wool's. However, he did not seem harmful, not like the type of man to be vile or malicious. "Of course!" She jumped to her feet. Worst case scenario Wool had always warned her that if she was ever kidnapped that the kidnappers would have to pay her a ransom to take her back.

"Very well then," Dumbledore bowed slightly at Wool. It was then that he pulled out a wand from inside of his long shimmering sleeves. He turned to her little belongings and flicked his wand opening a suite case and made all of the clothes, shoes and other little objects leapt in, in a neatly folded manner.

Nel's mouth gaped a jar at the magic in fascination. Wool looked terrified.

"It's real!" She exclaimed with disbelief.

"I'll be waiting for you at the entrance Ms. Saintday, so that you may bid your goodbyes and gather other belongings," he said as he headed towards the exit. "Wait!" Nel stopped him tugging on the back of his robe. "Can my friend Lucy come with us to? She's brilliant, much better student than I am!" She pleaded.

The man stopped and looked back at her kindly with his twinkling eyes.

"Nel," he began. "I'm afraid that Hogwarts is real for us, but it is not real for Ms. Bonilla," he began to explain. Somehow already knowing Lucy's last name. "Ms. Bonilla is a Muggle, and only witches and wizards can attend or see the school."

"But-" She pleaded. "Can you make an exception? She'll work hard I promise!"

Dumbledore placed a hand on the girl's head. "I'm afraid not child," he rested his hand there for a moment before vanishing into thin air.

Nel looked at the ground sadly. What would she do? She couldn't leave Lucy behind like that.

"Don't look so sullen," Wool's voice suddenly made her snap out of her thoughts. "You'll be back soon. I give it a day before that man is back begging me to take you back from who knows where," she said sticking her nose up in the air. "Very well then, say your goodbyes, Ta-ta." She clapped her hands and pushed her out of the room.

She looked at the austere corridors and the dirty floors recording them all into her memory. She would've really loved to splash them with some bold greens and yellows just to bring some life to this decadent place. Ms. Wool passed her in the hallway.

"Clown's come to take you back to the circus?" A voice called from one end of the corridor making her head snap in the direction. "'About time Freak Show," It was Aisha and Alf, two other members of the house who frequently taunted Nel.

"At least I'm getting out of here unlike the likes of you!" She shot back.

"At least we weren't abandoned here. Even your own parents didn't want your wart-face," Aisha laughed cruelly.

Nel stayed silent. That one hurt. The fact that she was an unwanted child hurt her more than she would ever let on. After all most kids living at Wool's belonged to parents that had lost custody of them, had been deported or had even passed away. Nel had been one of the few that had willingly been surrendered at an abbey's doorstep without a single hint or clue of who she was.

The day she was found they sought for records of her or the people who could be her parents yet found none. She was named by a Cornish nun and given the surname Saintday having been symbolically found on November 1st, All Saints Day.

"Yeah, nobody's going to miss your ugly spotted face 'round here," Aisha stuck out her tongue making a reference to the dotted beauty marks that marked the girl's face; which was considerably her most striking feature. She had managed to count at least ten of them. The marks were scattered in the figure of something, but she didn't know exactly what it was.

Angry she rolled up the sleeves of her black jumper.

"Want a souvenir so you don't miss me too much?" She threatened with a raised fist.

She was about to walk forward and put the bullies in her place when two hands reached and turned her around.

"Is it true?" It was Lucy kneeling down to her level to meet her eye. "That you're leaving?" Her dark eyes were wide with concern.

Nel looked down, almost in shame avoiding Lucy's eyes. "I know it's sudden, but I've been accepted to a school in Scotland. That funny looking man, he's come to take me," she wanted to tell Lucy she was a witch. Wanted to explain what it meant, but the vow of secrecy kept her from doing it. "But- I'm not sure if I want to go," she said feeling a sudden emptiness inside her. "You won't be there-"

"Nonsense!" She exclaimed. "You're going."

"I asked if you could come but he said no!"

"Doesn't matter," Lucy smiled at her encouragingly. "Just promise you'll call. Yeah?"

With her eyes brimming with rare tears Nel nodded and hugged her tightly. "Go," Lucy ushered her off. "Make the best of it, learn and most importantly be good Elowen Saintday."

The girls beamed at each other. "I'll see you during the holidays!" The younger one cried.  She didn't know what she would do without Lucy.

"Oh," Ms. Wool crowed looking down at the troublemaker. "You'll be back," she added smugly. It seemed like the woman was getting ready to enjoy the peace and quiet that would come. For now, Elowen Saintday would be somebody else's problem.

xxxxx

STARRING THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES with ADAM DRIVER as SEVERUS SNAPE

Xxxxx

AN: Any "To Protect" fans out there? Shoutout to you!

[foxesandmagic]

Replies

To everyone who I included in the ‘OCs this month’ and you commented or reblogged, thank you for sharing your wonderful OCs with us, I wish that I had more time to read everything, but hopefully one day I can read more!

@ocfairygodmother: Thank you for all your wonderful comments on things; and for being a fantastic role model within the OC community.

@missemmalie: Thanks so much for the comment about Luce! I always worry about how well rounded characters are, and that really made me feel a little better about her.

@fiercefray: Thank you for the comment about the Piccola Rossa series characters. Hopefully I’ll get to editing the next book at some point, ha!

@sgtbuckyybarnes: Thanks for liking the gifset for my Peaky Blinders fanfiction. Hope when/if you get to watch Locke & Key you enjoy it. Also, thanks for thinking Delilah’s OCMultiverse job challenge looked good.

@catharticallysarcastic: It really is good to have some laidback characters as well. And no worries - if really works.

@raging-violets: I’m really glad that you like my OC names, thank you. I never realised they rolled off the tongue for other people, I thought it was just me because I was so used to them, ha! Also, I agree with being able to look at Logan Lerman’s face all day. The word Prestige is awesome! And thanks for liking the title for that, Rhuben.

@heirsoflilith: I know what you mean with the timezome thing - I get so lost 90% of the time! Also, thank you so much for saying about your PMs, it means a lot. Also, I’m really glad that you like Hector, so thank you.