#see the description is a joke because the mirror reverie is holding up is the mirror of life trapping

[arcanesarts]

Nothing like the bond between a warlock and their patron !!!

Bonus colorless c:

[imagine-loki]

.....And that’s enough for you

TITLE: … and that’s enough for you  ONE SHOT AUTHOR: ValarieRavenhearst2  ORIGINAL IMAGINE :Imagine getting blind drunk at a nightclub with your friends and Loki protesting that you should head home but you keep saying you’re ‘fine’. After the fourth time you stumble over he’s had enough and throws you over his shoulder and takes you home to look after you.

RATING: 

NOTES: Was gunna make it nasty but ended being happy with cute fluff. 

  The atmosphere at the Avengers base was brimming with excitement as the day was drawing to a close. Friday. Just about all the cadets and agents were ready to hit the town and get the weekend started. Some members who live off the base are arriving back to pick up their friends after getting ready individually. Reverie, an intelligence agent whose role and position has been a constant roller coaster for the past two years, arrives back so that she can have pre-drinks with her friends (who are classed as the rowdy bunch on the base). She had been an active rising star field agent until she was injured in an explosion which resulted in her being benched in intelligence until her performance could be up to scratch again. But since she showed such exceptional skills in her benched field – nobody bothered to hurry the process along. Then along came a certain God of Mischief who needed a lot of one on one time. The job description was more of a Handler but it became a very flexible title. They needed someone who could earn his trust and keep him calm because the directors were all nervous of the murderous persona that was hidden underneath that charming smile. After it was revealed that his war crimes were influenced under the power of the Mind Stone everyone kind of had to just ‘forgive’ him. The exact details are on a need to know basis but currently he’s living on his own wing of the base so that he can be well monitored (just in case). If the Avengers aren’t doing a group mission then he generally stays on the base and keeps to himself. And since he’s generally well behaved the ‘handler’ position has become a flexible term, leaving Reverie’s career once again up in the air.

    Reverie enters the common area of the living quarters where music is already pumping through the speakers as the girls get ready. They all come take a round of shots and some warm up selfies before Reverie goes to check on Loki for the night. She finds him quickly heading back to his quarters and he stops to admire his friend’s striking appearance. He seldom sees her in such a casual attire. Her low cut mini dress was positively revealing, and arousing. The skirt hem swishes around the middle of her thighs as she walks and the neck line scoops over the tops of her breasts to show as much cleavage as possible before they are practically popping out. Though the mesh sleeves and covering runs across her collar bones for that extra layer of security. Loki’s eyes sparkle mischievously with glee as Reverie dances through the hallway to stop him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” She sings, wrapping her arms over his shoulders, which she can reach with ease thanks to her stilettos.

“I was about to ask you the same thing?” He flashes her an accusing grin as his hands come to rest respectively above her waist.

“It’s Friday, come out with us.” She pleas and he mockingly rolls his eyes at her.

“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.” He muses and she presses her body against his as she tugs gently on his neck.

“Please…” She pleads, not planning on taking no for an answer.

“I’m just so awfully busy at the moment.”

“Oh phft, we both know you are just going to go to your room and do nothing. Come on, come live a little.” She forces him to slow dance with her which evokes a small chuckle. “It’ll be fun.” She promises but again he declines as he twirls her out of his arms and keeps walking. “Loki, please?” She makes one last attempt, wanting to spend the night with her closest friend.

“Go have fun, Reve, you don’t need me for that.” He waves over his shoulder and she slumps in defeat, knowing that she can never pull him out quickly from a brooding state.

“Well we all know that’s just a lie.” She calls and she can hear him chuckle in the distance before she too, turns on her heel back to the party. She enters the common room again as everyone is ordering cars and taking shots. Katie, another intelligence officer looks at her with an encouraging smile moving her hands to ask whether or not the god of mischief would be joining. She shakes her head with a exaggerated pout before taking a shot. Katie matches her expression but doesn’t bombard her with questions, not wanting to upset her as she knows how much she actually wanted Loki to come. Another girl however loudly boos, commenting how good it was that one time Loki actually came out. Reverie remembers the time fondly, it had indeed been a sensational night. Though it had ended poorly the next day when her boyfriend had thrown a fit about her being so ‘friendly’ with the god. She had actually made out on a dare with two of her other friends as a joke but that was okay “’cause who doesn’t love girl on girl action’ as he put it. But god forbid Loki hugging her around the waist.    Not that it was public knowledge yet, but Reverie’s boyfriend had broken up with her suddenly, leaving Rev reeling in confusion. She had only told Katie because she had caught her having a moment at work earlier in the week. So with her cupids wings on, Katie sneaks out to go get Loki. She sprints across the compound as fast as her high heeled shoes will allow before she begins knocking wildly on his door. When the stubborn bastard takes forever to open up the door she begins calling out. When he does open the door, he appears less than impressed – his scowl would have broken a weaker person.

“You have to come out.” She insists and he just rolls his eyes as he goes to berate her for acting like someone had been shot. “Listen, no on knows, but Reve and Nathen broke up.” She informs, still deciding whether or not she will regret spilling her friend’s secrets. “And you’re her friend so that means you have to come out and support her.” Loki’s eyes widen in contemplation – he can’t say he’s sorry. He hated that little punk but held his tongue for the sake of Rev. He wonders why she hadn’t told him herself? Katie can feel his demeanour softening so she continues to probe him. “Come on, it’ll be fun, she just needs to have a good time and she can’t fully do that unless she’s got her trickster god by her side.” He finally reluctantly agrees and before Katie can order them a cab he says he’ll drive as  Midgardian alcohol doesn’t get him drunk any way.   When the two late comers finally show up at the club Reverie is on her fifth drink and positively buzzing. When she sees Loki swimming through a sea of mortals to get to her she is absolutely elated; cheering with both her arms in the air. She hugs him tightly, trying not to spill her drink on him. She has to yell over the throbbing music even though she’s holding him.

“You came.” She observes with exuberance at her best friend’s sudden appearance, barely making out his appearance between each seizuring strobe light.

“I decided I needed to live a little.” His lips are practically on her ear as they speak. She pulls him on to the dance floor with the other girls who are just as pleased to see him; coming up to grind themselves up on him to welcome him to the dance circle.    With every passing hour Loki notices Reverie trying to drink her body weight and tries to lightly encourage her to slow down. But she continuously boasts that she is fine and continues to dance like there’s no tomorrow. When she’s out of the safety of his embrace he watches as she stumbles spectacularly and he rushes to her thinking that for sure her ankle must be broken. But as he reaches her she’s already back up and bobbing like nothing happened. He already suspects that she’ll be in a world of hurt tomorrow. The night begins to merge into morning and the club shows no sign of slowing down, in fact it becomes fuller and Loki struggles to locate his troubled little friend in a sea of darkness as the strobe lights become disorientating. When he finally catches a glimpse of her, she’s bent up against a wall table taking shots with her friends whilst a group of guys come up behind her and try to start groping her as she dances. Startled by their actions she flinches to try and manoeuvre away but the crowding causes her to stumble. Before she can hit the ground Loki is pulling her back up and into him. With his free arm he slams one of the guy’s head into the table and throws him backwards; and in the strobing light no one is the wiser. Reverie begins to say that she is fine but Loki argues, throwing her over his shoulder and marching out. He piles her into the back seat of his car and switches on the child lock. Her body aches with relief as her legs begin to ache from exhaustion so she doesn’t persist with arguing but manages to sit herself up so she can see him in the rear view mirror.

“Where are we going?” A yawn overtakes her as her body relaxes in to the leather upholstery.

“I’m taking you home.” He tries not to sound too much like an overprotective parent and reminds himself not to chide her.

“Okay.” She shrugs easily, her mind happy to be able to fully shut off as it doesn’t have to worry about getting a way home. “I promise I didn’t invite you to be my deso.” She adds.

“I know.” He chuckles lightly, observing her sitting contently, her head rolling side to side with every turn and bump.  

“When am I going to see you drunk?” She babbles. They’ve shared many drinks together and she’s never even seen him tipsy all because of his godly stature.

“Well unless we raid the cellars of Asgard, then never.” He jokes and she leans forward to rest her head on the edge of his seat.

“I’d do that with you.” She promises and wholeheartedly means it. “When do you want to go? We can go right now, sneak in through some tunnels, you dad would never even know we were there.” She begins to formulate and Loki laughs robustly, reaching over to pat her on top of her head.

“Oh I’m sure you would be such an inconspicuous little thief, stumbling around in those ridiculous stilts.”

“Look, buddy,” she hiccups, “we’re not all born with giraffe necks for legs, so we’ve got to get a little creative.” She continues to make him laugh all the way to her drive way, then he helps her out of the car with a supportive arm around her as they walk up the front path. After a brief moment of searching for her keys, Loki just waves his hand over the door and the locks open. “Thanks magic boy.” She mumbles as she stumbles over the threshold, throwing her purse over somewhere and pulling off her heels. Her legs scream in protest at the sudden change in angle and she almost wishes to just cut them off. Loki scoops her up before she can have a tantrum and carries her off to her room; placing her in the middle of her bed. With no energy to open her eyes she lays still, hearing Loki move about her room. “I don’t want to get ready for bed.” She whines as her limbs ache but her mind refuses to let her sleep with her face still caked with makeup. Luckily everything she needs should be within arm’s reach because she planned for this. “Will you help me?” She pleads as she stretches out her body and her arms become stuck above her head.

“Of course I will.” She feels him crawl on to the bed, climbing on top of her to straddle her hips. “What would you like me to do?” He questions, his tone playful as his fingers lightly caress up and down her sides. She giggles as she thinks of many things she would actually like him to do.

“Can you pass me the wipes, they should just be over there somewhere.” Her fingers point in the vicinity of her bedside chest as her arms go to sleep momentarily. Loki reaches across effortlessly and retrieves the packet, pulling a towelette out he begins wiping away the layer of makeup that covers her face starting at her chin. She giggles hysterically which causes his own laughter to rumble with hers. “It tickles,” she laughs and he tries to be more firm to cease her babbling amusement. The black glitter on her eyes is more hesitant to be removed and smudges all around her eyes.

“How on earth were you going to do this alone?” He questions as this task is becoming harder then he thought.

“I don’t know.” She mumbles with a drunken smile, she’s always gotten it off before. The stars just must align at this time. “You need to take the lashes off.” She informs and she would have laughed if she could see Loki’s startled expression.

“How?” His voice goes high as if he’s watching someone give birth.

“You just pull them off.” She tries to wake her arms up so that she can do it herself but it’s going to take a little bit of manoeuvring. Loki gently touches the lashes before gently trying to peel them off. When the first one begins to pull away he makes an uncomfortable groan which sounds like he’s watching someone have surgery on their eyeballs. “It’s not that bad,” she giggles, her arms coming back to life.

“Why on earth do you do this to yourself?” He mockingly questions as he can’t see a substantial reason behind this peculiar task.

“Too make myself look pretty.” She laughs as she’s able to force her eyes open again when he’s finished.

“Reve, you’re already stunning.” She looks up at him and becomes saddened by the adoration she sees in him.

“Nathan doesn’t think so.” She whispers with a mirthless smile as she tries not to cry.

“Then he’s blundering bilgesnipe.” He cups her face gently and kisses her forehead, “why didn’t you tell me you broke up?” He questions as he caress her hair gently.

“I don’t know.” She continues to whisper so she can’t hear the sadness in her tone, “it just makes me sad. And I wasn’t ready for everyone’s harsh opinions.” She shrugs as she avoids his gaze by playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to hide things from me.” He adjusts his body so he’s gently laying on top of her as he kisses her cheek gently. “I’ll always listen.” A small squeak emits in her throat as she wills away the tears; holding his head down so he doesn’t see her cry. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles against her pulse. “He wasn’t worthy of you.”

“Thank you.” She sniffles and blinks away her welling tears. Content and happy in his arms she allows herself to drift off again and when she’s calm Loki finishes getting her ready for bed before joining her; laying down next to her with a protective arm draped across her.

[inkstainedfanfics]

To Newt, With Love

Request: "Hi-Hi! I've read your newt x reader stuff and they are so nicely done, I like your style! Could I request for angsty newt x reader, pure angst. Sadness and all that. If you don't mind of course! Something like 'reader likes newt but newt is stupidly oblivious and he still hanging on leta/is with tina most of the day. At the end, the reader just 'poof', out of touch. Thank you!"

Word Count: 2,643

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Part 2   |   Part 3   |   Part 4   |   Part 5

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in

The midnight blue dress draped over your body shatters the beams of golden sunlight streaming through your window, sending specks of glittering light all over the white walls of your bedroom and the pastel green sheets of your bed. You hardly notice, though, as you struggle to clasp a delicate silver necklace around your neck. The fine chain, soft as gossamer, tangles around your fingers, fighting your attempts to secure it. The struggle proceeds for a minute before you can drop the chain and watch it shimmy into its place in the dip between your collar bones. A beautiful gift from an old friend.

An old friend you’re visiting in five minutes, if the godfather clock standing in the corner is correct. A bundle of nerves flutter in your stomach. You haven’t seen Newt in months. Any time you wrote and told him you’d be able to make time, he’d been too busy. Then NEWT exams rolled around and every spare second of every day was dedicated to scrawling out notes and rereading the same chapter five times until you could nearly recite the entire textbook word for word. The grueling effort paid off, though, earning you high grades in every subject.

Today, you celebrate with your best friend of seven years. The two of you agreed to meet at your house at noon before traveling out to Hogsmeade to enjoy butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and then find a dancing hall. You know Newt has a fondness for dancing unmatched by many others, even if he may be reluctant to admit it.

One more glance in the mirror satisfies you. Not a hair is out of place, your elegant silver earrings brush the tops of your exposed shoulders, and the dress gleams, not a hint of lint on it. You step from the mirror’s gaze and cross the room, enjoying the clacking of your heels against the wood floor. On your dresser sits an ornate black box. Swirls carved and painted white loop around the wide case, meeting on the top to circle around Newt’s full name.

You lift the case and hold it in one hand, popping it open with the other. The top flips up to reveal a heavy watch with a broad face. Black hands point to Roman numerals to give the time to its viewer. A thick leather strap lays stretched open, ready to wrap around someone’s wrist. Giving in to one last bout of paranoia, you step back and sit on your bed, lifting the watch from its case and flipping it in your hands. You breathe a sigh of relief; the engraving is what you requested.

To Newt,

With Love.

The engraver had even carved the outline of a badger under the second line, a nod to Newt’s old house, his favorite thing about Hogwarts. He was so proud that first year when the sorting hat announced Hufflepuff. With both the tenacity and loyalty of a badger, you hadn’t for a second questioned the decision.

You run your thumb over the small design. Newt should’ve been able to graduate without any attack to his already damaged reputation. A small flare of anger and indignation at the school’s treatment of your best friend arises within you. Professor Dumbledore saw Newt’s innocence. If only Headmaster Dippet wasn’t so scared of the fantastic creatures in the world. Accidents happen. It’s not like that’s the first or the last one. Especially not if they keep admitting people like Leta into the school.

You scowl, remembering the night Newt approached you with the story. His voice barely broke the quiet murmurs of the common room when he’d asked you to accompany him elsewhere. Worried by his curled posture and darting gaze, you’d shoved your paper and quills to the side and stood, wondering who you’d have to lecture for mistreating him now. He led you into an empty classroom, where he told you he faced expulsion. Without letting you ask anything, he relayed the entire story, admitting that Leta begged for his help with the experiment. Then he pleaded with you to keep the story a secret. He said he only told you so that you wouldn’t be disappointed in him.

You were, though. He’d told you earlier in the year he would stop spending time with Leta. He’d lied. Nevertheless, you assured him you’d keep it a secret if he agreed to stop seeing Leta for good. After much arguing, Newt had relented. With a sigh of relief, you’d hugged Newt and pretended to not notice how tightly he gripped you.

The grandfather clock bursts into song, breaking you from your reverie. You place the watch back into the case and close the top, slipping the box into a secret pocket you’d sewn into the dress. High noon. Newt should be here any minute.

You step into the hallway and descend the twisting staircase to the empty sitting room. No troublemaking wizard yet. With a shake of your head and glance at the time, you take a seat on the firm armchair, waiting.

The first fifteen minutes don’t surprise you; Newt is always late. The next ten have you up and checking your letter to confirm the time you’d agreed to meet. After another fifteen minutes, you’re completely and utterly irritated. You haven’t seen each other in months. Does he not care?

Another fifteen minutes and you decide to check The Three Broomsticks. Newt’s so disheveled all the time, he may have forgotten to meet you here first. Closing your eyes and picturing Hogsmeade, you apparate.

You land in front of The Three Broomsticks. The clamor of overjoyed students slams into you as soon as you open the door, as does the stench of sweat worked up by the crowd.

Some boys you took potions with whistle at you as you walk in the door. One even swaggers up, hands extended to try to balance out his wobbling. He says something so slurred you can’t even detect where the words begin and end. The firewhiskey coating his breath burns your nose. You shove him backwards, into the waiting arms of his friends. The area erupts into a raucous laughter.

You roll your eyes and scan the room for Newt’s shy wave or face of freckles. Nothing. You scan it again with no different result. One final search leaves you fidgeting with your bracelet. Where is he?

“Well don’t you look quite lovely today. You passed?”

You turn to face Matilda, a twenty-something year old worker that’s waited on you and Newt every time you visit. Thank goodness, someone that knows him. “With flying colors.”

Matilda beams at you. “Congratulations, dear. I told you you could do it. You’ve got quite the brain.”

“Thanks, Matilda.”

“You’re here to celebrate? Is there something I can get you, dear? A cold mug of butterbeer, maybe?”

“Have you seen Newt? We were supposed to meet here.”

She purses her lips as she thinks. “You know, I think I saw some freckle faced man wandering into town, all dressed up. I don’t know that it was Newt, but I remember thinking it strange because the woman he was with wasn’t as fancy as he was.”

“He was with someone?”

“Yeah, that girl he’s been in town with almost every week. You know the one, don’t you? Long, dark hair? It’s almost always done into some cute braids.” Mistaking your stunned silence for uncertainty, Matilda continues. “She’s just a little shorter than him. They never come in here, though.” She scrunches her nose. “The poor boy dotes upon her, but I don’t know, there’s something about the girl…”

“How often did you say they come here?”

“Mmm, I’d say at least once a week, sometimes even twice.”

“When did that start?”

“Early last fall. October, maybe?”

“Thanks, Matilda. I need to go.” Your words are breathless as you spin toward the door. You don’t hear her shout to have a lovely day, too lost replaying her description in your mind.

Leta Lestrange. To a T.

Newt blew you off for that lying bitch.

Oh, there will be hell to pay.

You storm out the door and stride to Honeydukes. No Newt. No lying bitch.

Racking your brain, you step back out into the warm air of Hogsmeade.

Butterbeer and beef stew float out of the nearby Hog’s Head. Students mill around the streets, shoving each other and laughing at jokes. You start towards the Hog’s Head, tugging the hem of your dress down as far as you can without exposing too much skin at your chest.

You emerge, uncomfortable and angrier than ever, and consider the one, final place Newt would bring someone he cares about.

Madam Pudifoot’s Tea Shop.

The cheery sounds surrounding you do nothing but worsen your mood as you stalk down the road, glaring at anyone that has the audacity to even glance at you. You hear their whispers behind you after you pass but don’t care. They’ll have plenty more to whisper about if Newt is at the tea shop.

You march up to the windows and press your forehead against the glass, warm from the sun’s rays. Peering inside, you note the people you know, surprised by some of the couples enjoying a meal together. No sign of either Newt or Leta, though it’s hard to see between all the frills and decorations zooming around the store. You never liked the shop for that specific reason.

You’re still searching every face for Newt when someone clears their throat behind you.

You turn, snarl on your lip, and freeze.

“What are you doing here?”

It’s Newt. Alone.

The anger flares again. “What the hell do you think I’m doing? I’m looking for you.”

He bites his lip. “I’m sorry I was late. I forgot we agreed to meet.”

His white button down is ruffled and the first two buttons are undone. A streak of dirt runs down the front right pocket and you can smell whatever beast he was working with on him.

“What were you doing?”

He stares at his feet. “I was working with a hippogriff.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Oh really?” You shift weight to your right foot and cross your arms. “That’s a pretty bold thing to do alone. What if you had been hurt?”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Why don’t you look at me, Newt?”

He looks up under his eyelashes, head still bowed.

“Now why the hell don’t you tell me the truth?”

“I did.” His Adam’s apple bobs.

You narrow your eyes. “You’re such a horrible liar. Where is she?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Newt, where the hell is Leta?”

“Please.”

“I know you know where she is because Matilda told me she’s seen the two of you about. All year. And for some reason, you’ve never stopped in to say hi to her.”

“I-“

“Where is she?” You growl.

“Newt, honey, you don’t have to deal with her.” The soft voice drifts from the young woman walking out of a nearby shop.

“Leta.”

“You should leave Newt alone. He wants to spend today with me, not you.” There’s no malice in her voice as she glides to Newt’s side, but her quick frown at you suggests how she really feels.

“I’ve known Newt for seven years. I know that he can speak for himself.” You face Newt. “Can’t you? Or is she your secretary now?”

Newt holds his hands out, palms toward the sky. “I didn’t mean to miss our date. I swear. I just lost track of time. None of this is Leta’s fault.”

“Just like you nearly getting expelled wasn’t Leta’s fault?”

Newt straightens, eyes narrowing. “You promised not to talk about that.”

“And you promised not to talk to that lying bitch beside you.” You fling your hand out and point to Leta.

She wraps herself around Newt’s arm. “Let’s go, Newt. There’s people watching. You deserve better.”

Newt glances between the two of you.

You drop your hand. “I can’t believe you’re actually considering siding with her on this. She’s a bad influence on you! Why can’t you see that? She’s just using you, Newt. She’s just using you to take the blame for her mistakes so she doesn’t have to deal with any of the consequences. She’ll never actually love you or care about you. She doesn’t care if you get hurt or expelled. But I do. I’ve been your best friend for seven years. I know everything there is to know about you. You can’t honestly be telling me you’ll let some tramp ruin this friendship.”

“Newt, honey, let’s go.” Leta widens her eyes, playing the fearful victim as Newt looks down at her.

You shake your head. “Don’t, Newt. Tell her to go. Tell her to leave and come with me. The hall should still be open for another two hours.”

Newt looks between the two of you again. His mouth opens then closes. Leta squeezes his arms as you glare at her.

He looks at you again. “I’m sorry.”

The world ends for one tiny, microscopic moment as you look into Newt’s eyes and see him choose Leta over you.

“Seven years of friendship and this is what I get? What great loyalty.” You dig into your pocket and rip out the watch’s case. Striding forward, you shove it into Newt’s gut. “Some fucking Hufflepuff you are.”

His eyes widen and you know how much you hurt him.

Good.

You clench your jaw, inches away from the boy you grew up with at Hogwarts, the boy you’d whispered secrets to in the middle of the night, the boy you’d spent every single possible minute with for years.

The boy you don’t know anymore.

You jab a finger in his chest. “Never try to contact me again. I want you to pretend I never existed. You’re dead to me, and I will be the same to you.”

Tears brim over the bottom of Newt’s eyes, the very eyes that had taken in your worry the first day on the train as he stepped in your cabin, armed with a lame joke to try to ease your anxieties about the trip and the new school. God, you’d fallen in love with him that moment—in love with the shaking boy that tried to calm you down before he tried to calm himself— without even realizing it, and now he’s here choosing someone else over you.

You fight your own tears as you step back. “Good riddance.”

Then you apparate back to your house, your room. The wood floor bangs against your knees, but you don’t bother noticing the pain as you yank out a box of letters that stores every letter Newt sent you over the summers when the two of you couldn’t see each other. It catches on the bed frame and falls open. The letters scatter over the ground.

You pick up every single one and rip them into hundreds of pieces.

As soon as the last one is nothing more than miniscule shreds, you fall onto your side, grief and anger and betrayal fighting to earn your attention.

The letter confetti sprinkled around you gives grief the edge. Your best friend, your favorite person, just chose someone else over you.

The tears fall before you’re even aware of them.

It’s a long time before they stop.

Your fist pulses in pain from pounding it against the ground as you choke on your own sorrow, unable to scream enough curses at Leta and her manipulations.

The stream of tears slows, eventually turning into soft cries. You curl in on yourself and close your eyes. Newt’s gone. For good. He wanted Leta more than he wanted you.

Unable to find any more tears to shed, you drift off into a restless sleep where you dream about Newt’s smile.