#[ beguiling the devil | got | au ]

[blccdiedcruel]

VERSES. -> a series of canon adjacent, silly, and otherwise plotted out AUs that I'll place Daemon in. Any verse listed here will be available for others to engage with and request. If you're looking to write with Daemon in said verse, especially in memes, feel free to include the verse title, otherwise the default will be Canon.

CANON. | canon.

Canon storyline following HBO Max' portrayal, as well as heavily book canon based, heavily headcanoned. Variety of things taken from either.

TWO TIMES THE TROUBLE. | alternative universe.

Daemon and Deamon Targaryen, twins by birth and spirited all the same. They are identical, down to mannerisms, tactics, and more, with only a variety of differences between them. One brother, Daemon, claims Caraxes. The other, only a year after his twin's claim, Deamon claims Vermithor. It is said to be a sign from the gods to speak to the brothers' rebellious and dangerous heart to claim the fiercest beasts. Canon events may or may not occur, verse heavily dependent on plotting and muse interactions. ( may take inspiration from DRAGONGUARD verse )

A SQUIRE FOR A SON. | alternative universe.

With times growing restless, and the nature of men honing into war, Viserys sends his son to become the squire of the fiercest fighter he knows - hoping that his brother will aide him well and make the boy come to heel. Aegon is raised at Daemon's side, more son than soldier. The two's bond is irreplaceable, forged in trust and never being more than second best to the firstborn. OR; ( Daemon raises Aegon and gives him the love he deserved from a father who loved him. ) Canon events may or may not occur, verse heavily dependent on plotting and muse interactions.

HAND OF THE KING. | alternative universe.

In which Daemon is named Hand after Otto's demotion. Canon events may or may not occur, verse heavily dependent on plotting and muse interactions. WIP.

DRAGONGUARD. | alternative universe.

Daemon swears his oath as a Kingsguard, working his way through the ranks and becoming Knight Commander early in Viserys' reign, earning a name for himself as a faithful and fierce dragon. Canon events may or may not occur, verse heavily dependent on plotting and muse interactions.

BEGUILING THE DEVIL. | game of thrones verse, part A.

He remembers falling, and then Daemon is waking up before the events that butterfly into the fight for the Iron Thone. He is friendless, dragonless, and without any clues of what has befallen his wife, children, or anyone of his past. He's weak, wounded and unsure, but with Dark Sister in hand and a vision of a silver haired girl with three dragons in mind, he sets out to make his mark in the world and - perhaps, understand what magic has brought him here to begin with. ( In most cases, Daemon will ally himself with Daenerys, however, he can be persuaded otherwise. ) Canon events may or may not occur, verse heavily dependent on plotting and muse interactions.

LONG LOST DRAGON. | game of thrones verse, part B.

In which Daemon is a lost son of the Targaryen line. HEAVILY WIP.

name tba . . . | dragon age verse.

name tba . . . | skyrim verse.

[sonder-paradise]

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 — 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

◊ A/N: I rewrote this thing like three times today and each time I hated it so please love this version I beg of you- unedited we die like odasaku :/

◊ Genre: Vampire AU, Drama, Hints of Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Suggestive Content (towards the end)

◊ Pairing: Vampire!Chuuya Nakahara x Vampire Hunter!GN!Reader

◊ Word Count: 1.8k

Chilled air iced your lungs. Leaves crumpled and crackled beneath your running feet. Your chest heaved in the sickeningly acidic atmosphere as you ran. Running through the cryptic forest and away from the devils that lay within it. Pain littered through your eardrums. A pounding sensation unlike any other was thundering through your body. If adrenaline was a drug, you were certain you were drunk off it.

Thick branches snagged and dragged at your legs and flowing cape. Occasionally, a sturdy one seemed to extend itself purposely simply to trip you and cause you to stumble into the mud-soaked leaves below. Yet, even in the turmoil of the situation, you ran.

Your tiresome journey ended at the rusty iron gates of a manor. Eyes barely ablaze, you staggered against the cold bars. Letting your cheek rest against the metal, you inhaled the ice of the air once more. The snow began to fall.

For a moment, you thought perhaps the snow was greeting you. Perhaps it would guide you to the land of no return. Allowing your eyelids to grow heavy, you could feel your body topple onto the hardened dirt of the Earth.

Warmth. It felt like the warmth of childhood. A vanilla-scented atmosphere that beguiled in the delights of sweet red wine and bitter chocolate. Your body slowly came back to life. Stiff limbs creaked and ached as your mind evaluated your state of mind little by little.

A burning fire roared in the hearth and heated the gothic room up rather nicely. The bed you currently lay in was in a state of disrepair. It seemed it had not felt the touch of a human for quite some time. And all around, you noted the labyrinth of novels stacked like pillars.

“So you finally woke up?”

In a flash, your hand was clutched upon the wooden crossbow settled on the bedside table. “Who are you?”

A man’s voice emerged from the shadows. He seemed less menacing as he grew closer to you. Dark blue eyes that glinted with a curiosity and darkness unparalleled to anything you had witnessed before; Striking auburn hair that framed his pale expression and pulled into a neat ribbon at the nape of his neck; And, above all, teeth that shined like the blade of a knife.

“The man who saved your ass from freezing in the middle of winter,” he scoffed.

As he got closer, you could note that his stature did not seem to match the nature of his demeanor. Still, you were quiet.

“And it looks like I’m not getting a ‘thank you’ out of you either,” he continued, clasping the crossbow as well. Your fingers, still numb from the cold, grazed over his own. A strangely chilling sensation struck through your spine. This man did not appear to be human.

“Thank you,” you finally choked out, relinquishing your hold on the weapon.

He followed suit, though stayed at the side of your bed. “You’re not staying here long. I know who you are and I’m sure you know what I am.”

“I know nothing about you nor what you are,” you lied, gazing up at him. “I should at least know my savior's name.” Those eyes really didn’t do your words justice. They seemed inhumane just on their own.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment. “Chuuya…” he finally answered, “And it wouldn’t do any good to lie to me. I already saw your company’s shitty insignia on your crossbow.”

The quick glance to the engraved stake and cross on your bow did little to negate the situation. There truly was no chance in hiding it.

“Then you know I’m a vampire hunter,” you muttered, suspicion lacing your voice, “Why save me if I’m an enemy?”

Chuuya didn’t seem to want to answer your question. His eyes briefly glazed over; as if he was asking himself the very same question. Then he tore away from your gaze. “Just shut up and get out as soon as possible. You humans heal so slowly…”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Chuuya’s voice echoed out. Your journey through the large, creepy manor was cut short upon spotting your Vampiric host.

“It was cold. I wanted to get some more firewood for my room,” you explained, shifting anxiously. As strange as it was, neither enemy seemed willing to kill the other in this situation. Vampire and vampire hunter had been living together symphonically for nearly a month today.

Though little interaction with Chuuya was preferable, you no longer had a choice when he approached your room every day or brought you food when your temperature spiked alarmingly high.

He sighed at your answer regardless. “You’re so fucking troublesome, you know that? I thought I told you to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“It’s still too cold,” you muttered. Even to you, your answer felt weak; like it was some form of an excuse to continue living life with a vampire.

“Humans and the cold,” he grumbled, “Just wait in your room, I’ll bring you your shitty firewood.”

With no other explanation, Chuuya had already disappeared from the spot he once stood. You decided to do the same.

Upon reaching your room, you were unsurprised to see Chuuya already stoking the once dying embers of the fireplace. He paused his work, seemingly accessing the way you walked or your breathing patterns. You could never tell what he was thinking. Sometimes, he seemed like the most clear-cut man. Other times, he was the stoic vampire you were born and taught to kill. He walked a thin line of humanity that never seemed to leave enough room for the imagination.

“Lie down,” he said, “You’re gonna catch another cold if you don’t.”

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice only barely hitched on to the end of his. Chuuya stood once more, crossing his arms over his chest and giving you the same look he had given you a month ago.

“Because I heard a vampire Hunter’s blood is the sweetest, okay?”

He wanted to scoff at the perplexed look in your eyes. “It has to be fresh, you idiot. Drinking ice-cold blood from a dead body is not as appetizing as your storytellers make it sound.”

And yet, it seemed like his answer was weak. As if there was something else to it; something even more that you lacked the knowledge to understand.

But, given the situation and given the fact he had not once attempted to drink from you, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“If that was the case,” you blurted through giggles, “You’ve done a terrible job at being a vampire.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened and he averted his piercing blue gaze away and back towards the fire. If not for the blazing heat of the hearth, you might have noticed the tinges of pale pink highlighting his cheeks.

“Just shut it,” he spat, “I wasn’t about to steal it from you and you’re too sickly to drink from anyway. Besides even if I tried, that fucking crossbrow would be launched into my heart instantly.”

Your laughter nullified and seemed to fill the room with a bittersweet blessing. Perhaps he had been right. There was a chance that instinctively, you would have hunted him like the rest of his kind. His blood would not have been the first vampiric blood to stain your hands nor would it be the last.

“Then how about now? I’ll let you drink some now.”

Chuuya paused, clearly unsure about the subject. In the light of the fire, you could notice how thin he seemed now. His eyes held a peculiar hunger about them. In the dead of winter, you considered the possibility that he had not drunk in quite some time.

He swallowed thickly, growing closer to you slowly but surely. “You’re sure?”

“Did I mention you’ve done a terrible job at being a vampire, Chuuya?”

He ignored your comment this time, glancing from your neck to your eyes as if truly looking for confirmation. The desperation in his eyes grew.

“But yes, I’m sure. You saved my life after all.” You wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. The very creature you were raised to kill meant something more than just another monster to you.

You weren’t sure when Chuuya had finally stood in front of you. His hand reached out to loop around the back of your neck. And like the blazing fire, something deep and tension-filled roared in between the thin space between you two. Your hands found security on the bed as he drew near. His body pinning yours against the soft mattress now.

“Chuuya…?” you whispered into his ear as he nestled in between the crook in your neck.

“Just shut up before I hurt you.”

Intoxication filled Chuuya’s lungs. You smelled more sweet than he could have ever imagined. It was so heavy and seductive, he strained to find his composure. His arm traveled around your waist, grasping it tightly as if to keep a hold on something real. And yet, you seemed so fragile in his embrace. He couldn’t remember if all humans felt so weak in comparison to himself.

Slowly, you could feel the tip of his fangs graze your skin. Preparing for the ache in your neck to appear, you were surprised to feel it for only a moment. Chuuya held you close. His tongue swiped at the open wound as delicately you felt he might have been apologizing.

Something so simple shouldn’t have felt so intimate. You grasped the back of his coat, trying not to let out the whine of pain your body prompted you to release.

“Just a little more,” he mumbled. You could feel droplets of blood bead against your skin but only for a moment until he licked them away. And as he took in the sweet insobriety of your blood, Chuuya held you as if you were made of glass.

You flinched when he finally pulled away. The raw sensation around your neck crackling with both arousal and hints of pain. Chuuya observed your expression, eyes searching for your own. He seemed to be attempting to answer an unspoken question between the two of you.

His answer lay in the form of the soft, feathery kiss he placed against your neck.

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[blooddrop-palace]

DMC-OC-Week Day 3

(Yep, more Picrew. This time I have something for Tony and Caesar, though!  Since I live in AU hell, this means just about everything I work with already has AU stuff going on… so let’s see what are the interesting things I can share. All links lead to my Ao3 stories.)

Day 3 - Alternate Universe | Past/Future

Seraphina Valkyrie

Her Past - In terms of her past, she was a Holy Knight, but is parallel to Nero in the sense that she is really good at what she does but most of society doesn’t like her. But to be more specific, it’s not that the whole city dislikes her. Many young women admired her because lady knights are rare, and she’s very strong. But her biological grandfather is an influential old coot from a prominent family of knights who had disowned Sera’s mother since before Sera even existed.

The reason her mother was disowned? Because she married an amnesiac outsider. 

Outsiders come to the island once in a while and become indoctrinated into the Order religion, so whatever beef the old man had with the poor man was purely a personal bias. But he made their life a little difficult in trying to demean their social status, but his disowned daughter’s ability as a doctor made good enough positive connections with people that they remained a happy family, until they died to demons. 

And the head of the proper Valkyrie family did not want to take the orphaned Sera in. (Disownership has more to do with finances, responsibilities, and will, and less to do with the name.)

Because Sera adopted a more brazen attitude and doesn’t work very well with most people (once rejected, forever untrusting,) she doesn’t make herself very well-liked to the people more easily swayed by rumors, and a few of the knights who tried to court her were frankly scared of her devil arms that were literally grafted into her arms. 

So, when she met Vergil, who is not only stronger than her but also appreciates her “claws,” she allowed herself to not only be impressed, but also be utterly infatuated. 

AUs - if “canon” is that Sera either died to a demon attack after Nero’s birth, or ended up in Hell when she was trying to protect Nero, then there are plenty of AUs that I have for her. What if she fell into Hell and found Vergil when he fell off the tower, and saved him from Mundus? What if she fell into Hell, found Vergil, but then they both lost and got captured by Mundus? What if Eva survived and brought Vergil and Dante to Fortuna, and she got to know the twins from childhood? Oh, and what if she met Dante instead of Vergil? (This goes two ways: one where Nero has red and gold for his colors. Another is that Sera has Noel instead of Nero.)

Kassandra King

Her Past - Kassandra’s past seems complicated, but it’s fairly simple. She’s part of a part-devil bloodline, where her patron/ancestor is tasked by Sparda to maintain (and thus be sealed with) a Hell Gate on an island in the Eastern part of the world. The bloodline is maintained for several reasons:

The devil that is chained to the gate comes from a hive structure, and any queen or king of a hive needs workers. But the children are also family to him. These part-devil progeny are tasked with protecting not only the vicinity of the gate, but also to hunt down demons and devils that harass the nearby human populations. The prey brought back helps the gatekeeper maintain his strength, and the family structure helps keep the gatekeeper sane, as he is actually quite fond of family. 

Other demonic blood had come to be mixed with the bloodline over time, and ultimately, all of the children of the family undergo a pact with the gatekeeper in order to receive enough power to become a full-fledged devil-blooded devil hunter. The physical feature of this pact would be purple eyes, though there are some children who are born with the color naturally. 

And the bloodline is generally continued by the females of the family going out to beguile human men into one-night-stands. But in modern day, it’s becoming harder to find not only traits from the general populace that would be desirable for a family of warriors, but it’s also not as easy to come and go without a trace.

And Kassy desperately wants to have a proper mate, not just someone she’ll love and leave for a night. 

Meeting Dante for that one night… ruined her.

AUs - My favorite AU for her is one where she actually reaches out to Dante to tell him she’s pregnant, and they make a happy family despite the hurdles of devil hunting getting in the way. 

Arabella, the Crimson Queen

Her Past - The Crimson Queen’s past is simple. This large feathered-serpent devil was a very territorial devil who lived in Hell, and was notorious for keeping to herself. Even Mundus and Argosax didn’t think it was worth it to bother her, since she didn’t bother anyone else... up until one day she got caught up in the upset of the demon world and found herself in the human world by accident, and decided Sparda’s cause was the better cause. While she did not explicitly assist him in his quest, she was once a candidate to be sealed into the Temen-ni-Gru… but Sparda saw it better to seal away problematic devils into it, and let her loose. (While also turning down her proposal to be a mate.)

He eventually found her again when he was establishing Fortuna, and took her in to teach her how to live among humans. For the while where he was a Lord of the island, she worked as his head maid.  After he left, she spent the next several centuries learning to appreciate the simple joys of humanity, and lived in camouflage among humans…

Until one day, Vergil arrived. And that, well, is a different story from her past. 

AUs - I would LOVE to write a mermaid-inspired AU where Arabella is this great underwater serpent, and she saves Vergil from drowning by turning him into Mer. Little did she know, Vergil’s father was also a sea serpent, and so she had activated Vergil’s dormant aquatic blood. He woke up with amnesia, however, so she kept him around. For the next few years that he lives underwater with her, Dante, up above, is anguished about being the one to wash ashore alive after he and his brother’s seafaring trip went wrong, and spends the next few years searching the seas and shores in vain…

Until one day, a fishing boat nets up a young mer-child with white hair, then a large red sea serpent starts terrorizing boats the cross the ocean, and Dante finds a merman washed ashore who looks exactly like Vergil… and he finally learns the truth from his parents about what Sparda is, all while needing to save Nero.

Snow King

Her Past - Snow’s past in “canon” is fairly simple. Her mother being Kassandra, she grew up with her mother, her uncles and aunt, and her cousins, along with their ancestral patron devil. Snow was never given the right to form a pact, however, so her eyes remain blue. When their patron recognized the scent on Kassy being closely related to Sparda, it was decided that the resulting child should not become another servant of the Hive, because she could be so much more than that on her own. 

And more than that, Snow’s blood ties make her somewhat of a… dangerous asset. With the blood of Sparda and Aegis (the gatekeeper) flowing in her, she alone can be used to unseal the gate. When she found this out, she immediately singled out herself as a weak link… but her family refused to let her leave “for the better of the family.” This alone shaped a lot of her attitude towards her eventual meeting with her estranged father, uncle, and cousin. 

AUs - other than an AU where she gets to have daddy dearest in her life alone with two rambunctious younger brothers, I’ve had a thought of what if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family when he was a child, and Dante ended up in Fortuna at one point before Kassy’s family found him, too. So, if Snow’s parents are Kassy and Vergil instead…? And Nero is Dante and Sera’s kid. Yes, I know… sounds crazy. But fun. (I just wanted to write an emotional love confession where Kassy screams at Vergil to come home from the tower haha.)

Noel

Her Past/Future - Noel, as the daughter Dante didn't know about on Fortuna in a “Vergil and Dante switched positions AU”, grew up with similar circumstances as Nero, but some sexism gets in the way. She’s expected to be more better behaved, so her plucky and disobedient personality gives her more trouble than it would for a boy. She was always being compared to Kyrie, but at the same time she looks up to Kyrie, because Kyrie believes Noel is a good girl even if she’s not like her. 

Noel was basically best friends with Kyrie, but wasn’t all that close to Credo until after Credo’s and Kyrie’s parents died. (To Credo, she was just his little sister’s best friend that his family was taking care of, and being seven years older than Noel, he didn’t see a need to become close.) After that, Credo was not only moved (and concerned) by Noel’s bitterness of not having been able to help, he also wasn’t about to turn her to the streets or back to the orphanage, so he taught her to fight. 

Most everything is the same as Nero’s life, except instead of a necklace as a gift for Kyrie, Noel got her a knife. Because “even the sweetest of girls should have something for self defense.” 

Unfortunately, they would lose Kyrie to Sanctus’ plans. Though Credo took less time to debate on who he should believe, Sanctus changes his mind about who to use for the Saviour’s core when he sees how devoted Credo was to family, and takes him instead of Kyrie. When he also decides to take Noel since Vergil was proving too difficult to trap, Kyrie tries to break free with the knife Noel gave her, and so Sanctus kills her. 

Noel would see this as her failure for the years to come, and afterwards tried to leave Fortuna, despite Credo’s pleas to stay. Vergil ends up being the one to convince Noel that she shouldn’t leave the people who care about her like that, though he did give Noel time to figure out things at Devil May Cry, before sending her home with a pink neon sign. It would be a handful of years later, in her mid-twenties, before she and Credo finally address the changing nature of their relationship.  

Anthony and Caesar

Past/Future - There isn’t too much to say about the twins’ past. That they exist means the course the story has taken is a generally happier one, because Dante and Kassy would not risk for more children if life wasn’t stable. 

That said, Tony and Caesar are in two different storylines:

One where Eva survived and took Vergil and Dante to Fortuna, so eventually, Tony and Caesar would grow up in Fortuna, too. There will be adventure, however. Some precarious adventure. 

Another is simply a “canon events still happened mostly”, and the most interesting thing to happen would be their interactions with Vergil post DMC5. 

Now, a little part of me does want a bit of mundane drama. Like, maybe a whole Patty-shaped drama, since these two are just about a year older than her. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a girl named Katherine involved, and there’s a whole lot of confusion on how anyone is supposed to handle this problem. (Tony: And this is why I skipped prom!!)

[mysterioh]

𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓙𝓮𝔀𝓮𝓵 - 𝓫.𝓫.

PAIRING: THIEF!BUCKY BARNES X READER - (1950s AU) 

SUMMARY: James Barnes is a notorious jewel thief known for looting the rich while they drink and dance in merriment. During one particular heist, he ends up purloining the rarest jewel of them all; your heart. 

Sneaky was his middle name. So was devilishly handsome, but he decided to keep it Buchanan. His mother wasn’t a big fan of him being known as sneaky or a handsome devil. Whether she liked it or not, her son was just that and he had no shame in it.

After years of living in the lower-middle-class district of Brooklyn, Bucky learned one thing. Rich people suck and there’s nothing wrong with taking a little or a large amount of their fortune. Not like they needed it anyway. Their savings were endless with their vaults brimming with shining jewels and priceless artifacts.

No one knew who James Barnes really was and yet his name was plastered on top of every wanted list of every police station in the western world. He was cautious and nimble, swiping away riches underneath the very noses of their possessors as they frolicked about in their satin dresses and grey striped flannel suits. Without a picture or witness to his name, people didn’t know what to believe. Some believed he was an apparition sent by God to punish the corrupt while others speculated he was a Soviet spy gathering information while taking a little prize for himself.

He didn’t care much about what people thought and often found himself chuckling at the outrageous names bestowed upon him while reading the paper as he sat by the warm oceans of sunny beaches with a half-full glass of Cognac resting between his fingers. It was all so entertaining to him. The mystery around him brought him pleasure as to many others who had become fans of his works in exploiting the rich with some of them being the rich themselves.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I said maybe you should go dance,” your mother suggested.

“I don’t know. I’m not that good,”

“Of course you are. You’ve taken lessons with your sister. You’re just as good as her,” she retorted.

“I don’t think anyone would want to dance with me,” you said, hoping she would just let you be.

“There’s a fine line of young men waiting to ask for your hand,” she responded before whispering into your ear. “I think Captain Stark has an especially burning desire to dance with you,” she chuckled. “He’s been looking your way all night.”

“Mother!” you replied with red cheeks and a pout. “You shouldn’t assume such things.”

Your mother sighs before taking another sip of red wine from a crystal glass.

“I don’t know where you get your timid behavior from. Certainly not your father.”

“And certainly not from you,” you poked fun at her.

Your mother glares at you from the corner of her eyes making you chuckle in delight.

“Excuse me,” a man with chocolate brown locks and dazzling blue eyes stood before you. “I was wondering if you would like to dance?”

You stood agape at the sight of him. His hair was well-kept, gelled over to one side with a clean-shaven face showcasing the defining lines of his sharp jaw. His physique was lean and adorned in an expensive black suit. You had never met a man as handsome as him. Nor did one ever make your heart hammer against your chest so wildly when asking for a dance.

“I, uh-”

“Don’t stutter, Y/N,” your mother admonished quietly. “Answer the young man.”

Your cheeks grow red by your embarrassing action as you look down at his hand waiting for yours.

You take his hand shyly with a small smile. “That would be nice.”

He smiles wide, as he gently wraps his fingers around yours leading you to the center of the hall where elegantly crafted gowns swept along the floor with grace and the clatter of footsteps mixed with the poised, youthful laughter of young men and women in the air.

He turns towards you, keeping your hand in his, and places his other hand on the small of your back. You blush underneath his warm cerulean gaze as he led you in a traditional waltz.

“Do you come to these often?” he asked.

“Hmm?”  

“Do you come to these parties often?” he repeated.

“Oh yes,” you replied. “My mother enjoys them very much.”

“And you don’t?”

“They aren’t really my cup of tea,” you confess. “Not to mention they become redundant after some time. Same old songs. Same old gossiping. It gets boring after a while.”

“Seems like you’re looking for something new.”

“I guess you could say that,“ you said with a sigh.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked. You looked up to him with perplexity hidden in your gaze. It was as if he was reading your deepest thoughts.

“The right time I suppose,” you said as he swept you across the dancefloor.

“No time like the present,” he responded, his eyes gleaming underneath the crystal chandeliers.

“It isn’t as easy as it seems,” you stated, “not when you’re stuck between four walls and under a heavy weight of responsibility.”

You didn’t know why you were having this kind of conversation, especially with a stranger. You didn’t even know his name and you were telling him the things you couldn’t tell anyone else. Maybe it was his anonymity that allowed you to do so.

"We are all burdened with something, but should we really let those things get the best of us?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Then why not do what you want?” he asked, his voice painted in excitement. “All it takes is a willful heart and a leap of faith.”

Your lips curl into a gentle smile while adoring his flawless features and brilliant aura. You might just take that step if he’d take it with you.

“You seem like the adventurous type,” you commented earning a chuckle from him.

“I guess you could say that. I enjoy the thrill and rush of a chase.”

“I’m sorry I never got your name,” you said, a bit embarrassed by your rude behavior.

“Personally, I don’t find names that important,” he stated.

You gave him a confused expression with your brows furrowed. “Well I should have something to call you by,” you stated, offended by the prospect of him not caring for your name.

“Then you can call me James,” he replied. “Just James.”

“As you wish Just James,” you teased making him chuckle again. His voice was a sweet melody to your ears.

“And yours?”

“Y/N,” you replied, “Just Y/N.”

The music came to a stop denoting the end of the song and everyone on the floor claps for the musicians. Bucky lets go of your hand and you feel a shiver of loneliness run down your spine.

“It was a pleasure to dance with you, Miss Y/N,” he stated taking your hand in his once again causing a spark to light up within you. “You are an impeccable partner.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you returned the compliment.

“If you’ll excuse me there’s somewhere I need to be,” he replied.

“Of course,” you stated. “It was nice meeting you.”

Bucky responds with an affirming nod and turns to leave. Deep down you wish he didn’t. You were only left alone for a short time until you hear a voice call your name.

“Miss L/N,” Tony calls from behind you.

“Captain Stark,” you replied with an inkling of distaste in your voice.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all night,” he stated. “But I never got the chance.”

You smile at him with your insides hurling. Why was your mother so good at reading others?

“Well I’m here now,” you replied with a sickeningly sweet smile. “What is it that you’d like to tell me?”

Tony begins to speak and you listen quietly with your thoughts on a completely different person. It’s only until you see said person sneakily passing by one of the hallways did you return to earth.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you apologized, trying to come up with an excuse. “I think my mother is calling me.”

Before he could even respond, you quickly walk past him with a sigh of relief as you rushed through dancing couples swaying along the waxed floor of the ballroom. You exit the room leaving behind the sounds of jubilant voices and clinking of glasses of champagne.

You run down the hall decorated with ornate designs and Romantic art with crystal chandeliers lighting your path. You run past open glass doors leading to a balconied niche catching a glimpse of black in the corner of your eye. You step back and find him standing there.

“What are you doing?”

He bites his tongue as he turns his head to see you standing by the doors underneath the luminescent rays of moonlight making you shine brighter than any diamond he’s stolen before. It was as if he was in a scene from an old fable stepping off its page as he stood there beguiled by your beauty.

You notice the bag in his hand and your mind clicks right away. James.

“You! You’re the mastermind jewel thief, James Barnes, aren’t you?”

“The one and only,” he replies unabashedly.

You were taken aback by his blunt and fearless attitude. “Aren’t you worried I’ll tell on you?”

“Something tells me you won’t,” he stated. “And even if you did, who would believe you?” he questioned, forming a pout on your face. “After all, James Barnes is just a ghost story.”

“I’ve read about you in the paper. Didn’t you steal the Devil Eye’s at the Smithsonian just a month ago?” You asked leaning into his space making him take a step back. “And slipped the world’s most expensive diamond necklace right off the Duchess of Berkshire’s neck just last week?”

Bucky looks at you with amusement. You were too close to him with your face right in his. Not that he minded, but he knew you wouldn’t do something so bold and unladylike if you knew what you were doing. You were filled with wonder and awe for catching a mastermind crook and being the first to see what he looked like. And you had to admit, he was a sight to behold. Even in the dark, he could distinguish the excitement written on your face and your eyes glimmering in the light just like the jewels in his bag.

He chuckles at your childlike reverence and you stand back confused. “You know more about me than I do,” he noted.

You stood agape with your cheeks burning in the cool air. “I-well, that is,” you began to stammer while playing with your hands. “I just think you’re interesting.”

He raises a brow with a smirk gracing his features. He shouldn’t be here. He should’ve left ten minutes ago. If his calculations were correct, the guards would have already found an emptied vault sitting with nothing but a thank you note from himself. If he left ten minutes ago, he would’ve been well on his way out of town, but who cared about a silly schedule when a cute girl was showing an interest in your daring escapades?

“You go on all these amazing adventures,” you noted. “It’s like reading a novel but it’s real. I just think that’s exciting.”

“Then why not come with me?” he asked out of the blue and without an inkling of fear or nervousness.

“Me?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes, you,” he replied with a chuckle coloring his words. “You wanted something new, didn’t you? Then I’ll take you with me.”

“Oh well, I don’t know,” you whispered. Your once excited state now wavering in front of him. “Sometimes I say crazy things.”

There’s nothing crazy about wanting adventure,” he responded. “Do you really want to live the rest of your life trapped in what others want?”

You remain silent, uncertain in how to reply. “I-I can’t,” you denied. “Maybe someday, but not today.”

You looked away from his prying gaze with a sense of regret hidden in your words.

“Until then let me give you something to remember me by,” he smiles genuinely before placing a peck on your sweet lips that had your knees melting and heart soaring.

He turns to leave, but you catch him by the hand.

“Wait,” you stop him by the hand, “when will I see you again?”

Bucky gives you a wide grin. “I go wherever the wind takes me. If it ever comes by here again so will I.”

You frown at his vague answer. “So not anytime soon.”

“It’ll be sooner than you think,” he said, turning back to you and lifting your chin with this hand to take your lips captive once again in a deeper and much more passionate kiss.

You could hear the voices of men shouting down the hallway and Bucky pulls away from you faster than you’d like him to. He picked up his bag and slings it over his shoulder.

“I should go,” he said with a small smile hiding his desire to stay.

“You should,” you replied. He gets on the fence of the balcony ready to jump off. He turns to you one last time and gives you a salute with a goofy smile before jumping off. You run over to the balcony edge and lean over to see if he made it. You sigh in relief at the sight of him running off towards the forest and giggle to yourself while resting your chin and arms on the balcony railing.

“Miss L/N!” Tony called as he ran towards you.

“Captain,” you replied as you turned to him.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighed. “That man didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Of course not,” you replied turning back towards the view. “He was sweet and charming,” you smiled with a far-off look.

Tony’s brows knitted in confusion. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I don’t think you know who you’ve been talking with. That was James Barnes! The notorious jewel thief that has been terrorizing the lives of innocent people.”

“Is that so,” you responded not listening to his explanation.

“He just raided your uncle’s vault. Your mother fainted at the news.” Tony informed.

“What a pity,” you said nonchalantly.

Tony remained puzzled by your complacent attitude towards the entire ordeal. Suddenly it hit him and he quickly turns to leave.

“I must catch him right away,” he said as he stalked towards the door.

“No,” you caught him by the arm with both of your hands. “Don’t do that. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Tony turns to you. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I have to. He’s committed a major crime. He’s stolen your heart!”

Taglist: @chuckennuggets1213 @marshyrebelcloud​ 

A/N: Bucky you goof you can’t ask a girl you just met to run away with you.

[swindlersstole]

mermay sunday

yeah we’re forgoing the 6SS in favor of mermay because what’s better than ONE mermaid? it’s TWO mermaids

this was going to be a oneshot but it my deep-rooted craving for univeristy aus + the allure of the fantasy boarding school set up has turned this into. A Thing. and i don’t know where This Thing is going because I only have this and two other scenes in mind BUT that’s besides the point. this is going on ao3 eventually when this first part gets fleshed out a little more because I finished this at 2 AM this morning.

as a disclaimer i DID binge re-read a centaur’s life to get a feel for how i wanted this to be written, so there’s a lot of show don’t tell for how the races all work. there is method to my madness i swear this

~

come, all you sailors

At this point in his casual observations, Nova felt confident enough to say that this was most definitely not a crush.

A crush, in his opinion, required at least a name to go on, never mind a voice or any inkling of a personality--none of which he had at his disposal. All he had of this mysterious(?) other student was his face and a bare bones idea of his library schedule. Neither of which was bad, necessarily, because watching a guy that handsome intently studying the sky through a telescope and pouring over astronomy books was something Nova found very enchanting. It made the study nights where he knew their schedules lined up something to look forward to.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stranger tap a pencil against his cheek (he was left-handed, Nova had noticed that ages ago) and run a hand through spiky blue hair before going back to the telescope. He looked through for a moment, before turning away to dig into the black coat hung on one side of his chair, retrieving what looked like a protractor and returning to his writing.

From his table shelves away from the observatory window, Nova pretended to push his own hair behind one finned ear--to better keep an eye on the subject at hand.

He supposed he should have felt bad, snooping on somebody like this, and he did to a point, but there was always the chance that this wasn’t his or the stranger’s fault. For all Nova knew, this sudden fascination might’ve just been some underlying effect this stranger had on others; sirens weren’t the only fae folk out there who could do that, though he wasn’t sure of any who could do it subconsciously. 

It was one of his worst fears and the reason he kept his mouth shut so much, sure, but he knew it was all in his head. Mostly. But Nova figured it didn’t really matter what the guy was--it didn’t change his charm at all.

So yes, three months into this person-watch, Nova felt confident enough to say that he was… taken, with the student. Not a crush in the slightest. It felt like it could get there pretty fast though, if he closed the gap, so Nova decided to keep this admiration at a distance and to himself. If he didn’t have a name to attach to the (very roguish) face, he felt confident that the infatuation would pass.

If nothing else, it helped him pass the time waiting for his sister to respond to her texts. And speak of the devil herself, there she was.

It wasn’t often that Jade and Frysabel had time to come visit, let alone together, and Nova wasn’t about to pass up the chance to see his sister and sister-in-law if they wanted him around. He could fawn from afar any other time these days--though he could neither confirm nor deny if he took longer than usual to gather his belongings into his bag.

The stranger didn’t notice the quiet shuffle of Nova’s movements, or if he did he didn’t make a point of showing it, not even when Nova began a steady pace walking behind him. It was the quickest way to the nearest staircase down, so his path was at least justified, infatuation or no. And he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what this mystery student was even studying; astronomy, obviously, but maybe a minor in divination? Though Nova wasn’t entirely sure how that process worked, so who could--

“Ah--!” He managed one quick, subtle glance at the stranger’s textbook before Nova’s foot caught the leg of an empty chair, and he stumbled to the ground. He managed to catch himself before any real harm could be done or disturbance be made, but there had been no avoiding the stubbed toe through his sneakers, and he hissed in pain as he rested on his knees. “Ghhh…”

“Whoa, hey--are you good?”

A tentative hand fell on his shoulder, and an unfamiliar voice called out to him, and all at once, Nova forgot about the sting in his foot. And he hoped, he prayed that when he turned around, he wasn’t going to see what he thought he was going to see. But fortune is a fickle mistress, even among the fae.

The stranger had abandoned his belongings in favor of coming to the ground alongside Nova, if only to make sure he was alright. He’d only ever really seen the stranger’s face in profile before, so he was familiar in theory with the blue of his eyes, but Nova hadn’t realized just how deep that blue went. It struck him like the ocean reflecting the bright summer sky, something he normally found comfort in, but having the sea look back to him with alarm and worry like that made his stomach flip. 

“I--y-yeah, I’m okay!” All Nova could do was laugh to force away the heat in his face. Beguilement aside, he did just essentially trip over his own two feet in clear sight of someone, so at least his embarrassment couldn’t have read as anything but that. “Just--forgot my land legs for a second, aha.”

The stranger didn’t say much, but gave a hum of acknowledgement as he looked him over. “No torn fins, scraped scales, nothing?”

“Nah, it wasn’t that bad a fall. Maybe a bruise, but I’ll live.” Nova tugged at the tips of one fin sheepishly. “Uh… sorry to bother you.”

“Hey, as long as you’re not hurt, right?” And the stranger smiled at him and oh, wow, did he ever have a smile. The sight of it near blinded Nova to the hand the stranger offered him when he got back on his feet. “Need a hand?”

“Oh--” Nova cleared his throat before taking the hand offered to him. The stranger was warm to the touch. “Thanks.”

It was when the mystery student had pulled him back up that Nova saw it--crumpled on the floor next to his chair lay the stranger’s coat, forgotten in a heap. Even from a distance, Nova could tell it was of exceptional quality, a black moto jacket with a dark blue fur collar; he’d seen the stranger wear it a few times, even though it seemed far too warm out for a coat so heavy looking, but the guy wore it well, so Nova wasn’t complaining. Without much thinking about it, he darted towards the coat and picked it off the ground, dusting it lightly at the collar.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve knocked it over.” He laughed again, awkwardly, before turning to hand the coat over. It wasn’t leather like he thought it had been—in fact, he couldn’t rightly name what it was made of, now that he was holding it—but there was a faint inkling of enchantment on the coat, and that was enough an indicator as to its value for Nova. “Hate for it to get stepped on, it’s a pretty nice… uh.”

Nova stopped talking as soon as he looked at the stranger again. Any sense of concern or amusement had faded from his now very pale face, and was instead replaced with overwhelming panic. Maybe even fear. All the while, he just stared unseeing at the coat in Nova’s hand, as though lost in a terror-induced trance.

“Are… you okay?” But the stranger didn’t seem to hear him, lost wherever his mind had wandered. Nova thought briefly to use his voice and pull him out of… whatever he was in, but going around hypnotizing people for every little thing was a tad worse than just irresponsible. The idea still lingered though, even as he asked again, “Is something wrong?”

“What?” Almost immediately, the stranger snapped back to earth with a shake of his head. “I mean--no… No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He placed a hand on the coat, and waited for a second, like he was expecting Nova to snatch it away from him, and when he didn’t, the stranger pulled the coat back to him, carefully. Again, much quieter, he said, “Thank you.”

“Sure?” Well… that was odd. But then again, fae had all sorts of rules and conducts for things, and history notwithstanding no one could really expect to know all of them. The best one could hope for was to just be polite, and if Nova had really done something to offend this guy, he was pretty sure he would have known by now, if the number of men Jade had thrown to the ground for the offhand succubus comment was any indi--

Nova gasped, quietly, to himself. “Jade.”

“Jade?” The stranger repeated.

“Ah—my sister, she’s waiting for me outside, I forgot.” There was a clumsy shuffle as Nova stepped around the stranger, and headed back to the stairs with a bit more speed. But that would have been rude, just to leave this person that helped him hanging like that, and he turned back around to give the stranger a half wave goodbye. “Sorry about--all that. I’ll see you around!”

Were he not in a library, Nova would have bolted towards the stairs to get out of that mess of an interaction; he couldn’t bear to look behind him to see whatever the stranger’s reaction to that had been. He kept his head low to the ground as he bounded down the steps to prevent just that, all the while trying to will away the growing dread in his stomach.

See you around? He pinched the bridge of his nose. I’ll see you around? Ugh, of all the things to say…

~

The days after the incident passed by without much meaning. The entire interaction and Nova’s parting words to the cute guy had haunted him, as he expected, and even Jade had laughed at him a little over dinner that night because of course he had to explain to her his sudden desire to die, but aside from all that, nothing had changed. Classes came and went, he still chatted with Gemma and Faris like he always did, got calls from Mum and Grandpa--in retrospect, Nova might have thought this to be a sign of the oncoming storm, but he was so eager to block out how astronomically bad he’d messed up at just talking to a new person that little else seemed to register. He almost succeeded, for what it was worth.

And then came a knock at his door.

It wasn’t ideal for Nova to avoid the library. The place was more reliably quiet that late at night than the dorms could be, and a few of the books he needed for his studies were too old to be checked out normally. But even less ideal than that was bumping into the handsome stranger again, and by that point he wasn’t going to get any of his work done by fault of the existential shame, so he planned to stay in his dorm until the incident would be long forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.

But the universe just couldn’t let Nova have this one pass, because when he opened the door to his dorm, the stranger was there, still wearing that fancy coat even indoors. “Oh, good, you’re actually here.”

The instinct to just close the door and pretend like this moment wasn’t happening was very difficult to fight. There were a multitude of questions as to why the moment was even happening at all, and as much as Nova knew better than to be a jerk, he felt pretty entitled to those questions. “You were looking for me?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” The stranger crossed his arms. “It’s Nova, right? Shell said I’d find you here.”

“Oh--Shell sent you?” That did put Nova at a considerable amount of ease; if the campus merfolk advisor had told the stranger where to find him, then it did make this whole encounter significantly less like a horror movie set-up; Michelle doted on him as much as Jade did, she wouldn’t put Nova in any sort of harm.

“Something like that.” The stranger seemed to agree. “You know she wouldn’t send a stalker your way.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” It did beg the question as to how the stranger knew Shell in the first place, but that was beside the point right now. “But then... did you just need me for something?”

There was very obviously something up; something in the way the stranger glanced aside and furrowed his brow raised a flag in the back of Nova’s mind, but what that flag was, he couldn’t yet say. 

“So--listen.” The stranger started after a pause. “This is really weird, and I get that, and if you’re busy right now, I won’t get in your way, but… do you have a minute?”

“A… to talk?” No, Nova, to jump off a cliff, what are you even saying-- “I mean, I don’t have anything pressing to do. What’s up?”

“It… well.” The stranger paused again, and Nova clearly saw the rise and fall of his shoulders, like he was bracing himself for a hit. “I can’t—it’s about when we ran into each other.”

“Oh, no.” Nova’s fins flared out nervously. All of a sudden, his fear of a racial violation came back full force. “What did I do?”

The stranger lifted up a hand as though to try and calm him. “No, no, don’t—don’t panic, it’s not like that. You didn’t do anything bad.”

“But I did something.” It wasn’t a question.

“You…” The stranger’s hand fell to his head, fingers more pulling on his hair than combing through it. “Did… kind of? It’s not—I don’t think you meant to, but it’s still—look, I really don’t want to be talking about this out here.” He stopped to take another deep breath. “Can I come in? If that’s okay.”

There was no way for Nova to see where this was going, and he wasn’t sure if he liked any of the directions he could think of. Again, Shell would not have put him or anyone under her care in any danger, and it wasn’t like he thought the guy was actually a stalker (in this case, Nova honestly fit that bill a bit more considering), but there was a lot to be concerned about regarding a stranger asking to come in his room half-past ten. 

Instinctively, Nova knew he should say no.

What he said instead was, “Yeah, sure. Come on in.” And he stepped inside for the stranger to pass through.

Why am I like this.

The stranger sighed out a “Thanks” and walked through the door, a fleeting sense of anxiousness in his steps, and Nova could only liken the sound of the door clicking shut to the sound of his own fate being sealed.

“This isn’t a vampire thing, is it?” Nova asked, distantly, anything at all to clear the air. If nothing else, it might explain the inherent attraction thing, especially coupled with the invitation. Unless the stranger was also just trying to be polite.

“Man, if I was a vampire, this wouldn’t be an issue.” The stranger managed a laugh, just as awkward as the rest of this conversation, but he still looked effortlessly cool leaning against Nova’s desk. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not a disappointment, no.” Nova seated himself on the edge of his bed, if only to keep a respectable distance. “Just trying to figure out how you know Michelle.”

“Oh--I’ve been helping her with her walking.” The stranger explained. “Mermaid legs, you know. Not that strong. And she wants to be on her feet for her wedding.”

Nova did, in fact, know that, because Michelle was beyond excited for her wedding and was pulling out whatever stops she could, and there were few of her students that weren’t doing something to help the cause. Nova was no exception, but that was beside the point. “So she asked you to help her train? That’s a big ask for a student.”

“It is, yeah--but I knew her beforehand, too. She knew I could help, and I knew she could… well.” The stranger gestured to him. “Point me to you. And keep mum about it.”

“Uh… huh.” Nothing odd about that at all, no sir. “Why does she have to keep quiet, exactly?”

The stranger opened his mouth, and Nova could clearly see a flicker in their eyes that said he certainly had words to say, but they weren’t coming out as quickly and as easily as he had probably hoped they would. His hands dropped down to gesture to some imaginary object, and he looked at Nova dead-on, and confused as he was Nova couldn’t find it in himself to pull away.

“...so.” The stranger took one of those hands, and placed it on the breast of his jacket. “It’s about the coat.”

There wasn’t much in the way for Nova to hide his wince. Of all the things it could have been, he had a sneaking suspicion the coat was going to be the problem here. “Did I do something to the enchantment?”

The stranger looked taken aback by the question. “You can tell it’s enchanted?”

“I mean, not what it’s enchanted with,” Nova clarified, “but, yeah. I knew as soon as I touched it.”

“How did you know, though?” The stranger raised a brow.

“Forging major.” Nova shrugged. “Minor in textile sciences.”

“There’s sirens in the forging curriculum?” The stranger seemed genuinely surprised. “Huh. I thought you guys were all about the performing arts.”

“Life is in the details. And making things from scratch is still an art.” This wasn’t the time or place to get into that sore spot. “But, anyway. Did something happen to the spell when I picked up your coat? Because--look, I can’t fix that myself, but I’m happy to get whatever the components are to--”

“No, no, it’s not--not that kind of enchantment.” The stranger clarified. “It’s, uh… it’s always been a part of it.”

“Always… oh!” Nova palmed his fist. “So, it’s in part of the material? That makes sense. Is it just cosmetic damage, then? I can fix that.”

He hadn’t thought he’d said anything strange, but the stranger just looked at him with something like marvel in his eyes. “...What? What did I say?”

“You really don’t know, do you.” The comment was quiet, more to himself than to Nova, and the stranger glanced to the ground in thought. “Well… that’s good. Definitely makes this easier.”

“Makes what easier?” Far be it from Nova to lose his patience, but this roundabout game of questions was running his nerves ragged. He had an infatuation with this handsome student, he wasn’t blinded by it. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever it was I did, but if I don’t know what it was, then I can’t fix it.”

“It’s not… something you have to fix.” The stranger explained. “But you have a right to know what’s going on. Just--gimme a minute to… no. No, you know what? There’s no good way to put this. I’ll be blunt.” 

Nova said nothing, merely waiting for the stranger to explain himself; after what felt like a long while, the stranger dropped his hands to the side in resignation, looking at Nova dead-on. 

“I’m a selkie.”

High-strung as he was at the moment, Nova was smart. He liked his puzzles, and he didn’t mind a bit of detective work here and there. Sometimes, though, it paid to remember that often times, the simplest solution to a problem was usually the correct one, and the answer to his questions in this case didn’t get better than those three quick words.

The handsome stranger was a handsome selkie. Selkie pelts were historically coveted. The coat was enchanted. Nova had picked up his coat. The dots connected practically automatically, and all at once the blood drained from Nova’s face.

“Oh.” Nova muttered, mouth painfully dry. “Oh, no.”

“...Yeah.” The selkie bit down on his lip as he nodded. “It, uh--least now you know how I know Shell.”

“Oh, Spirit--” Nova leaned over into his knees, holding his head in his hands. “As if that last run-in wasn’t enough of a disaster, I--” He snapped back up, panic writ bold on his face. “I wasn’t trying to steal it, I swear, I would never--”

“No, no, we’ve been through that, you obviously weren’t trying to do harm.” The selkie assured. “The fact that you didn’t know you were holding a pelt the whole time sort of drives that home.”

“I’ve never held a selkie pelt before!” Nova cried in a hushed whisper. “I didn’t even know there were selkies on campus.”

“You’re not supposed to know. There’s a lot of privacy policies specifically for us so no one steals our pelts.”

The selkie raised a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, stepped forward and placed it on Nova’s shoulder. Nova jumped from the touch, but his hand was warm, and his grip was comforting. “I get it, I do. You were doing the right thing. You didn’t do anything bad.”

Nova glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back to the selkie. “...but then--what did I do?”

The selkie’s fingers drummed against his shoulder. “See, that’s… the part that’s making this weird.”

It was another long moment while the selkie took a seat on Nova’s bed besides him. Judging from the color starting to bloom on his cheeks, Nova suspected this was so he didn’t have to look directly at him.

“So… selkies have a long history of people stealing our skins. Everybody knows that.” When Nova nodded, the stranger continued. “And you weren’t trying to steal mine. We’re clear on that. But what you did, it… returning a selkie’s missing coat has a very specific meaning in the culture, and you know how these old fae laws are, so it’s taken… pretty literally.”

This just kept getting worse and worse, but at least there was some solace for Nova that whatever this meaning entailed, it wasn’t his imminent doom. If an old fae law was going to kill him, it would have done so already. “...what’s the meaning.”

The selkie looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Nova saw the blush that had just started spreading on his skin turn ever more red, before the selkie closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a proposal.” He groaned. “You know… the marriage kind.”

Rescind the previous solace. Nova just decided he would rather have death. 

“So… wait. Did I--” He pointed to himself, then to the selkie, then back to himself, and again and again and again, each one more frantic than the last. “Are we--”

“As far as selkie law is concerned, we’re engaged.” There was a significant slump to the selkie’s shoulders as he said that. “So at least now you get why the subterfuge--but, listen!”

Before Nova could ask further, the selkie sat up, trying to force a reassuring smile. “This sort of thing isn’t totally a freak accident. It happens a lot more often than you’d think. And it’s an easy enough thing to undo! So you don’t have to panic about it.”

“That’s--a really big ask.” Defeat made his body feel astronomically heavy, but Nova forced himself to sit back up. “I just… I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“What are you sorry for? Of course you had no idea!” The selkie laughed a short, surprised laugh, and if circumstances were any different, it might have made Nova’s stomach flip. “The only thing you did wrong was be a decent guy. I should be apologizing to you for dragging you into all this.”

“You couldn’t have foreseen this, either!” Despite himself, Nova managed to return an exasperated smile of his own. “But if this is something that happens a lot, why bother telling me at all?”

“You answered your own question: it happens a lot.” The selkie shrugged. “It’ll get undone, sure, but there’s no telling how far back in the queue our case would be. It wouldn’t take longer than a year, but it’s still going to be a good few months before it’s annulled. And we’d need both our accounts to prove it was an accident in the first place.”

“I--” Nova blinked. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Exactly.” Hands on his knees, the selkie looked up at the ceiling. “Then there’s the binding.”

“The--excuse me?”

“You know how the stories go, don’t you? A selkie who has their pelt stolen is bound to the one who holds it until they get it back.”

Nova’s eyes narrowed. “But I didn’t steal your pelt.”

“No, but this whole pact thing is done through it.” The selkie fiddled with the sleeve of his coat as he spoke. “It’s not like I’d be following you around every minute of every day, but… you’ll be seeing a lot of me in the months to come.”

He laughed again, more quietly to himself, and regarded Nova with a raised brow. “Definitely a lot more than the weekly library trips.”

“Oh--” This night was really proving to just be one heart attack after another. Maybe, if the universe wanted to be nice, it would let Nova get away with this one little vague mislead. “You noticed?”

“We’re always sitting in the same spots. Same times, too.” The selkie gestured. “It felt like we had a thing going. Always thought it was kind of nice.”

Of all the boons the universe could give him, it had to be that one, huh.

“Anyway.” The selkie sobered up, and continued. “I needed to tell you all this, but you hadn’t been around the library in a while, and I started to get antsy. And that’s why we’re here  now. The weirdness of this is all on me.” His expression fell serious. “I’m not going to push you into anything--you can ignore me, if you’d rather not think about this. I’ll keep out of your hair as best I can, if you need space.”

“No! No, that’s not--don’t do that.” Nova hadn’t meant to sound so desperate when he said that, and he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “It’s not like I blame you for all this. That’d be insane. And I can’t just let you deal with all this on your own. I need to take responsibility.”

That last part had sounded fine in his head, but after actually saying the words themselves, Nova threw his head back with a groan. “‘Take response’... could I have possibly picked a worse phrase.”

“Probably.” There was that quiet little chuckle again, and all of a sudden Nova felt better about his anxiety-ridden vocabulary. “Good to know you plan to take care of me~”

“Shut uuup.” The words came out with a shaky laugh as Nova ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever happened to ‘in sickness and health’?”

“We’re still riding this out together, aren’t we? I’m glad for that.”

There was a considerable amount of relief in the selkie’s voice, and when Nova looked back to him, that relief was in equal measure in his eyes. “I mean it. You kind of learn to expect the worst when it comes to your skin, so… I’m glad you’re a good guy, is all I’m saying. I think we can get through this in one piece.”

Nova wasn’t one to fawn over any bit of praise that came his way, cute guy at the source or now, but it was hard not to get a little flustered after… well. Everything. “...I could always turn out to be a jerk, y’know.”

The selkie shook his head. “Shell wouldn’t like you so much if you were.”

“That--yeah, I’ll give you that,”

Seemingly satisfied, the selkie held out his hand.

“The name’s Erik, by the way.”

The suddenness must have surprised Nova more than he realized, because it garnered another chuckle at his expense. “What?”

“Well, I just realized--I knew who you were this whole time, but you didn’t have my name.” The selkie--Erik--flashed his canines. “Not exactly proper if you don’t know your fiance’s name, right?”

Nova sputtered at how casually he’d joked about that, and Erik kept laughing at him, but soon enough the sheer ridiculousness of the situation began to dawn, and Nova managed a few quick laughs of his own before taking Erik’s hand in a firm shake.

“Nice to meet my future husband.” He joked back, and suddenly, the problem at hand felt a lifetime away.

[michaelmalloryfanfic-blog]

fic update: o thou, destroyer named - chapter ii

they are like two wounded animals circling one another, waiting to see who will strike first

. millory au .

post links: chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //

ao3 links: chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //

chapter summary: mallory's pov...kinda. i guess. i don't even fucking know. these first two chapters are more character studies than anything else. 

Resurgence is like being born again. You come back screaming. Always. At first the screaming is only on the inside but soon enough it will find a way out. You will scream. That’s something you can trust. You come back reaching, clawing at the air and looking for anyone, anything to hold on to. Everything is new. Everything is bright and burning. It’s so painful you forget your own name.

Somewhere at the back of her head she knows that this knowledge is not her own. A voice is ringing in her head that isn’t her own. Someone has explained this to her before.

A face floats above her like a specter. He has an eerie beauty about him that is repellent yet intoxicating. She’s still half dead but she feels. At the sight of his face, something pulls at her. It’s visceral, innate. She knows his face before she even remembers her own name.

Resurgence is like dying all over again. It is the worst way to come back. The beetle, the dust in your lungs, dead blood pooling in any place it can settle. And it all has to come out, one way or another. Better to descend. Better to experience hell on loop. Better to return through the dust. This revelation appears suddenly, as yet another voice in her head. She still has yet to remember her name.

To put it frankly, resurgence sucks but it’s different for everyone. For Mallory, it’s a little like football.

Mallory had always been fascinated by football but for all the wrong reasons. Or so she’s been told. She remembers the first time she watched a game. She can’t be any older than four because her daddy is still living with them. He’s sitting in his old, ratty recliner. The smell of beer and sweat permeates the air. On the tv screen, a game plays out in silence.

Mallory can’t be sure if he had actually watched the game on mute. She tries to remember her father. Is that the kind of thing he did? She can’t be sure but she remembers it being silent the first time she sees a game of American football. It’s brutal the way they all crash into one another, the violence only heightened by the noiselessness. It scares her but also beguiles her. Even then, as young as she was, she understands the concept of momentum. Each violent encounter, the savage dance serves to facilitate a movement towards a goal.

She’s only four but she’s rapt as one team crawls forward. Her tiny fists are balled so tightly but she hardly notices. It isn’t until hours later when her mother puts her to bed that anyone notices the bloody, crescent-shaped marks on her palms.  Closer, closer, closer . Her body is a rubber band, pulled so tightly that she could snap. She can hardly breathe. And then, just like that, it’s over. Her father swears, tosses his nearly empty can of beer at the tv. She’s confused. She doesn’t understand what’s just happened. It’s her wailing that draws her mother’s attention. A screaming match begins between her parents.

The game is futile, that’s what really fascinates her. And though it is true that this could be said of any sport, in no other is it as evident and frustrating as football. Back and forth, back and forth. Even if you make a point, even if you win, you always end up back at the middle of the field, at the beginning. Win or lose. You get reset. Nothing changes. Nothing grows.

If God and the Devil were playing football, this cold, stone floor beneath her is their field. She’s the only player. She just has to figure out what team she’s on.

“Welcome back, Mallory.”

The face above her speaks her name and the sound of it is a sledgehammer to her chest. She opens her mouth and screams.

There’s blood in her mouth. It cold and bitter and she can’t shake the feeling that she’s been here before. She tries to sit up but fails. There’s a shuffle of shoes on the floor beside her head and a ruffle of fabric. A hand slips beneath her neck and helps her up. It does the trick and she flies forward. Blood and bile comes up in equal measure. It spills out of her into her lap. Through tears she sees that she’s got it all over her hands, her apron, her sleeves. It’s disgusting. The smell rises to her nose that’s already burning and full of the smell of her own sick. It turns her stomach. And through it all there’s a steady hand on her back. It doesn’t move, doesn’t make an effort to comfort her but it's comforting all the same.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles first to herself into her own ruined lap. Then she turns to look into the face that she knew in this new life before she even knew her name. “I’m so sorry.”

His face is void at first, beautiful but frighteningly still. It gives nothing away and Mallory begins to feel sick again but then he smiles. His lips curve slowly, carving his face nearly cherubic. And that smile, so lovely, so perfect, it would have been sweet if not for the eyes. Bright and devouring. She smiles back, acutely aware of how the blood must still be coating her teeth. As her mouth moves into a shaky smile, she can feel her chapped lips crack.

It’s Mead that helps her to her feet but Mallory notices that the grim, older woman never looks at her. Mead’s always got her eyes glued to Langdon. They seem to communicate without words. It’s a sudden change and Mallory doesn’t understand how it has happened. Venable is nowhere to be seen.

“You need to get yourself cleaned up,” Mead says and though she isn't affectionate or even kind, Mead is careful at least.

It is a strange sensation to be treated carefully. Mallory doesn’t really know how she became a personal assistant. In fact, she has no fucking clue. She can’t remember what her father was like. Can’t remember most of what her life was like. That’s not right. That’s not normal is it? But there’s this whisper at the back of head that tells her not to worry, to ignore the gaps, the static in her head where her life is supposed to be.

Here’s what she tells herself. Assisting just comes naturally to her. She actually enjoys how her clients’ incompetence strikes such a high contrast to her own capabilities. Mallory would hate to admit it but there’s a high that comes with having someone be so completely dependent on her. She feels like she’s worth something. And for the first few years Mallory believes that she’s excellent at her job. Glowing reviews, high praise and all that shit. It isn’t until Coco that Mallory starts to doubt her abilities. Coco makes her feel like she’s back at that fifty yard line. Futile.

But she wasn’t lying to Langdon. She didn’t want to kill Coco. Maybe maim her a little. Rip her hair out, break her fingers, her legs. Just enough to make her even more dependent. Because the sad truth is that Mallory doesn’t just need Coco to need her, she likes it. It occurs to Mallory that she’s never really understood how life works.

Langdon watches them for a few moments more before turning and leaving the pair behind. The sight of him leaving sparks an ache in her chest. That pulling once again and she gasped so slightly that Mead didn’t even notice, continuing to urge her forward. But Langdon pauses as though he feels it too. He doesn’t turn back, doesn’t look at her but she feels him, feels him pull at her.

“Ms. Mead,” he says. “Once you’re done with that prepare for our journey.”

Mead doesn’t reply. She doesn’t need to. Instead, she continues to push Mallory forward. Mallory’s legs are gelatin beneath her. Mead pulls Mallory closer, causing Mallory to lean further into the older woman. Mallory has no choice but to drop her head on to Mead’s shoulder It is surreal. The taste of her own blood is still in her mouth and that string pulling at her chest. Pulling, pulling, pulling. She thinks to herself, what happens when it snaps?

[ivyquinnauthor]

WIPs List

I needed to start keeping track cause they started really creeping up on me! I promised myself I wouldn’t be a multiple works-in-progress person this time for fandom, but I think I need to admit that I lied to myself, heh.

Work in Progress Series

1) Culinary Advice - 45,000 words (so far 10 complete shorts). Crossover between Lucifer and Miranda (yes, you read that right). Summary: After he got caught with his green card wife, Gary Preston moved to Los Angeles to tend bar inadvertently at Lux. Also, Lucifer can’t help buy try and play matchmaker and try and fix Gary’s love life.

2) The Devil and Trixie Espinoza - 150,000 words (7 complete parts of varying lengths). Current story and eighth story is in progress, called “Devil of a Time.” Series Summary: “Takes place about ten years after 3.24 "A Devil of My Word" in New Orleans. After Lucifer killed Pierce, he was punished for killing a human and forced into permanent, full devil-form. Chloe rejected him and, terrified, fled with Dan to Texas to raise Trixie far away.About a decade later, Lucifer and Maze have relocated to running a demon/hell-themed bar with the most "real" looking make-up in the French Quarter called Tenebrae. Trixie, a freshman pre-med student at Tulane, happens to wander into his bar with her sorority sister and learn so much more about what happened to send her family packing and about why her mother and Lucifer imploded.After he saves her one night from a vampire attack, Lucifer and Trixie work on establishing a friendship on their own terms...even if the Devil is more prickly and bitter than ever. Good thing that Trixie's even more stubborn than both her parents combined. (Focuses on Maze-Trixie friendship as well as on Lucifer-Trixie friendship.)”

3) Monstrous - 10,000 words. (Part 1 Monere is complete; sequel Monstrare posting soon). Summary:  After Lucifer returns from Hell, self-actualization, self-esteem issues, and jitters over taking things to next level with Chloe result in some...unusual intimate situations. NSFW, adult-works, and definitely monster!sex. Deckerstar

4) Satan, M.D. - 4,000 words on part one called “Don’t Tell Me Why”. Summary:  “Based a bit on a cracky what-if discussed at FH on what if Lucifer had been a doctor instead of just a club owner/singer. He's still the Devil, but a devil who's spent a long time on earth trying to keep the humans who vilify him alive, while partaking in his usual hedonistic delights until Chloe Decker comes into his life. Very alternate universe, based around plot points in season one.” Based structurally a bit on the t.v. show Rush (fusion of plot ideas, not a crossover). Deckerstar

**

Work in Progress Stories:

1) Recurrence - 79,000 words. Story Summary: “ Goes alternate universe after 4.09 (Save Lucifer). Lucifer's relegated to desk duty by a concerned Chloe after the masquerade at Lux. Meanwhile devil power flare-ups mean he needs help to get everything under control and truly forgiven before he can get back to work or his life. Cue the help of an over eager forensic scientist who's seen too much and yet is still rolling with the punches.” Ella and Lucifer friendship heavy with bonus Azrael.

2) This Ebony Bird Beguiling - 23,000 words. Story Summary: “Goes alternate universe with the episode 1.12 "#TeamLucifer." Lucifer finally confronts Chloe back at her home about why she makes him vulnerable and discovers the detective is hiding quite the secret of her own.” An AU with winged!Chloe and based on an FH prompt. Deckerstar

**

---Right now, I’m working on getting the eighth part of The Devil and Trixie Espinoza done, posting weekly on "Monstrare” starting tomorrow, and posting the first story in Satan, M.D. “Don’t Tell Me Why,” weekly till its done as well. 

---After the eighth part of Devil and Trixie finishes:

1) Finish Recurrence (I’m actually fairly close there and have the rest outlined). 

2) The next installment/11th short of Culinary Advice. 

3) Really dig more into This Ebony Bird Beguiling (it’s the least outlined and least developed currently). 

A.k.a busy summer but working around a lot of school stuff since we’re still telecommuting ‘til May. I swear I didn’t forget anything, just been a long, long spring!

[greenconverses]

6, 11, and 12 for your Roman! Percy fic please?

6. What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

I’m probably going to finish all the parts of it? It’s the first cohesive multipart fic I’ve written in like... three years? I don’t really count the teachers AUs or whatever else because they’re more... multi-part snippets than a full-fledged story. 

11. What do you like best about this fic?

Annabeth’s character. She’s usually my go-to narrator for AU fics (why? who knows), and she’s a little more bitter and hardened in this universe. She’s got a chip on her shoulder from growing up in Jason’s shadow and Luke’s betrayal hits her much harder at 17 than it did at 12. She has a rough time after the war. By the time we meet her in New Rome, she’s put some of the pieces together and is starting over, but she’s just sort of... coasting until she meets Percy. 

He’s what really gives her the motivation to finally claw her way out of the messy, angry, disconnected hole she’d fallen into after the war -- and it’s not because of the healing power of true wuv or whatever. They’re both missing someone in their lives that challenges them and makes them want to try, to be better. 

This upcoming chunk of narration kinda sums her up pretty well: 

She wondered how she must appear to the others around them, wrapped in Percy's arms like this. A Greek temptress, beguiling their most feared and powerful warrior? (...) Or, perhaps, a dark queen in her own right, with enough ambition and power to stand with the devil and have no fear?

Annabeth knew which one she was.

12. What do you like least about this fic?

THAT IT’S SO LONG. Seriously. The full thing is 11K right now and I still have significant portions to write. I thought it was going to be, like, 6K when it started it and the majority of it would be smut. I know y’all don’t care, but I HATE IT when I write long for something that was supposed to be simple. 

[jezabellgirlandfriends]

Review by JG

Scorched by Jade C. Jamison My rating: 4 of 5 stars

“We’ve always got the music, man…and music always makes everything better. Music would always be the cure.”

This was a thoroughly enjoyable story of young and forbidden love as Sam Archer falls for his young next door neighbour.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, Sam heads in search of solitude but finds himself living next door to a girl who simply takes his breath away.

Fighting to remember that Gracelyn Ward is much younger than him, and with a beguiling innocence, Sam struggles to keep his distance from Grace but with all good romance stories, Sam’s efforts are in vain as both he and Grace become enamoured with each other.

What starts out as a simple, and unexpected, friendship eventually becomes more as Sam and Grace take tentative steps towards love. Sam, having had multiple partners, is conscious of Grace’s innocence but doesn’t realise the full extent of it until their fate is sealed. Sam tries to be open and honest with Grace and is keen to extend the same courtesy to her parents, but Grace is hesitant and their relationship becomes clandestine and you can’t help but await the inevitable fallout.

Whilst I loved the way Sam and Grace fell for each other, I struggled to come to terms with the age difference. Whilst she is 19 years old and clearly an adult, the way she has been protected by her parents and their religious beliefs, makes her come across much younger. I don’t know if that was the intention or just the way Grace appears to readers but her lack of sexual experience means she is the polar opposite of the groupies of the same age that Sam faces regularly. That said, what feels like an almost seemingly impossible romance becomes a reality as Sam falls in love with Grace.

I didn’t think anyone could rival Clay/Jet but Sam Archer managed to turn me upside down with his sweet, caring and tender ways. Gone was the hardcore rocker and in its place, we get to see the real man behind the showman. I loved the way he tried to protect Grace from the problems that their relationship would inevitably bring and when he realised that she was it for him, he comes back to her doing what he does best.

As expected with Jade C Jamison, this was a well-written story and not without the usual band references that she is known and loved for.

We are proud to provide honest and unbiased reviews written from the heart.

LINKS

Goodreads

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075PKJMTQ Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075PKJMTQ Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B075PKJMTQ Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B075PKJMTQ Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/scorched-jade-c-jamison/1127133247?ean=2940154866498 Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1287799401 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/scorched-31 Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jade_C_Jamison_Scorched?id=q6c2DwAAQBAJ

BLURB

When you play with the Devil, you’re going to get burned.

When Sam Archer, bad boy rock star, decides to move out of the city and do some soul searching, the last thing he expects to find is his new neighbor Gracelyn Ward.  She’s everything he’s not—19 years old, religious, and an obedient child—but he finds himself falling for her anyway.

Gracelyn Ward has always had a crush on Sam—who hasn’t?  But she never thought he would be moving next door to her family and end up being so…likeable.  Sam is everything Gracelyn’s parents never wanted for her, not to mention that he’s over 30.  Despite her better judgment, it’s not long before she’s falling in love and beginning to question everything she’s ever held dear in her life.

When her parents give an ultimatum, Grace and Sam are torn between desire and obligation.  Will they succumb to the fire or will they get scorched by the flames?

Excerpt

“You have a great singing voice, did you know that?”

Sudden crippling shyness grabbed her around the heart as it started pounding hard, but she forced herself to swallow. What she thought was happening wasn’t really happening, was it?

She felt herself titter, unable—maybe even unwilling—to believe it. “Nah. I’m just acting. See, that’s the cool thing about actors—”

But then Sam’s face was right in front of hers and there was no denying what was going on. “You are adorable.”

Adorable? She got ready to retort, to ask him if he meant like a kitten, but his lips brushed against hers and any and all thought escaped her head. The only thing there was the leftover melody of GNR floating around her brain pan, but the rest of her was thoughtless…

And focused.

Her heart felt like it had jumped in her chest as she felt tiny snowflakes hitting her cheeks, making Sam’s lips feel so warm, they were almost hot. It was just a small, slow feathering touch against hers, enough that she could even pretend it wasn’t happening, but her lips parted in response.

For a bigger excerpt, you can read a full chapter here!

The Feverish series

Feverish (#1) Boiling Point (#1.5) Scorched (#2)

The Feverish series is a spinoff of…

The Bullet series

Bullet (#1) Rock Bottom (#2) Feverish (#3) Fully Automatic (#4) Christmas Stalkings (#4.5) Slash and Burn (#5) Locked and Loaded (#6)

[tbehartoo]

Summer Days pt 5

Characters: Levy McGarden x Lisanna Strauss (Levanna)- Characters from Fairy Tail by Hiro Mashima

Rating: General? Teen? I don’t know, where do you stand on fluff?

Summary: Modern AU vignettes where Lisanna and Levy spend a summer together for @filiadcorblog

on AO3

*Lockser’s Water World- Local water park, wave pool, lazy river, sunscreen and sunburns

Lisanna looked at the view in front of her, looked at Levy, and then looked back at the view. The sight that greeted her was slightly … sad. Water slides that had been bleached colorless from obviously spending too many years in the sun, a wave pool that boasted six inch waves, a kiddie pool that seemed to be half the size of one that was easily purchased at the local supermarket, and a slow moving moat running around it all were all that she could see.

“Remind me again why we are going to a water park when there is a perfectly good beach just ten minutes away,” she said.

“Lisanna, I promised you an authentic Magnolia experience,” Levy said as she led her toward a bank of lockers. “Which means you get the bad along with the good.” She was looking for a free locker that wasn’t broken. “And when you’re in high school your first summer job is either here or the fast food places, if all the college students have gone home.” She found one that suited her and started putting their bag and towels in it. She pulled out the spray on sunblock and applied another layer offering it to Lisanna as she continued, “And if the college kids haven’t gone home you’re babysitting and doing yard work hoping to have the money to be able to come here to hang out with your friends once in awhile.” She put the sunblock away and pulled out a padlock and key. She checked that the key did indeed open the lock, then secured their items as well as could be hoped and strung the key around her wrist. “And don’t let the look fool you. They might not be the highest slides in the world, but they’re still fun, and the Black Hole gives me chills every time.”

“So you started out as a lifeguard?” Lisanna asked, curious.

“Oh no,” Levy said perfectly seriously, “I started out on the clean up crew and managed to make it to the snack shack by the end of my first summer. I had to get CPR and some other special training before I could do the lifeguard position.”

Lisanna was surprised to hear that, but she hadn’t given pool cops much consideration before. “What was your favorite position to work here?”

“That’s hard to say,” Levy said as she showed Lisanna where to pick up one of the mats needed to slide on the first ride, “because each area has it’s own unique, soul-sucking boredom associated with it. Being lifeguard at the wave pool is just a lot of counting heads over and over again, and an occasional whistle blow to make everyone get out while the pool has to be decontaminated.” Levy shivered at a particularly nasty memory. “The kiddie pool is just a constant repetition of the phrase ‘No running!’ while the little imps continue to dash around the place.” They’d finally reached the end of the line and now had to wait patiently as people moved one space at a time. “Doing refreshments wasn’t too bad, except when the patrons are complaining about slow service or the price of the food. Did you know most people don’t realize that servers don’t actually set the price of the food? And that they aren’t the ones to have instituted the No Outside Food or Drink policy?”

Lisanna giggled. “Really?” she asked in mock surprise, “I am shocked to hear it.”

“Yeah,” Levy said dryly, “you’d think more people would have figured it out.”

“So, you didn’t have anything that you liked to do when you worked here?” Lisanna asked. “That sounds like a lot of bleak summers.”

“No it wasn’t bleak,” Levy hastily said, “but it was work, and sometimes all you can say is that it was work.” She smiled and added, “I think I enjoyed working the slides the best. Especially the ones the littles would go on. When you could see that they were so scared to go on their own, but then they work up their courage, and they scream all the way down you think you’ll never see that one again, but then here they come right back and sometimes it’s the whole scared-courage-scream cycle and other times they have a fire or are ready to take on the bigger slides. That’s really the best.”

Lisanna looked carefully at the line they had been shunted into and noticed that they were at least a foot taller than most of the rest of the line. “Levy, are we in the line for the little kids’ slide?”

Levy smirked mischievously. “You have to start at the bottom and work your way to the top before you’re ready for,” she paused and then dramatically said, “The Black Hole.”

Lisanna laughed but stopped when she heard the child next to them gasp.

“You’re going on the Black Hole?” he asked with widened eyes.

“Uh, yes?” she answered.

“Have you gone on it before?” the girl next to him asked. She looked almost like a smaller clone of the boy, leading Lisanna to think she must be his younger sister.

“Um, no,” Lisanna was wondering about the awe she heard in the little girl’s voice.

“Wow!” the girl said, “You’re so brave.” She turned to the woman who was obviously with them. “Mommy she’s going on the Black Hole!” The girl looked back at Lisanna in admiration. “Isn’t she brave?”

The woman laughed. “Yes she’s very brave,” her eyes twinkled as she looked at the two young women, “but I think she’s probably old enough to- survive the Black Hole.”

Lisanna heard similar statements from everyone at the park. In line for the slides, lounging in the lazy river, or making small talk with the cashier at lunch the infamous slide was spoken of with reverence, awe, and in some cases unabashed dread. The unbridled fear seemed to be catching, especially as they stood in line waiting for their turn to go down the tube of terror.

“Levy, what have you gotten me into?” Lisanna wailed as they neared the top.

“Lissie, I promise you won’t die from going on this ride,” she answered with a wicked grin. “And if your heart stops,” she continued on, “I know exactly where they keep the AED.”

“Somehow, that’s not really comforting,” she eyed the nervous girl in front of them. One more rider and it would be her turn.

“Look Lissie, I’ll go first and meet you at the bottom. Okay?”

Lisanna looked relieved at the small reprieve from her impending doom. “Okay.”

The last sighting she had of Levy was her blue hair disappearing into the murky shadows with a scream torn from her throat.

Levy waited with great anticipation at the bottom of the slide. When Lisanna shot out from the bottom her eyes were squeezed shut and her arms firmly clutched across her chest. It took a moment for her to realize that she had stopped moving. She stood up looking around wildly.

“You!” she pointed a finger at Levy when she finally found her. “You devious,” she started in Levy’s direction, “cunning,” she finally made it out of the pool, “horrible, beguiling she-devil!” She had finally reached where Levy waited, tears running down her cheeks from laughter. “All day you tormented me with this,” she accused waving in the direction of the water slide, and Levy merely nodded. “I’ve been hearing the horror stories from every man, woman,and child in this park!” Again Levy could only nod. “You let me believe that this was going to be the most thrilling, heart stopping, terrifying ride I’ve ever been on!” she stamped her bare foot on the pavement. “All!” she poked Levy’s side, “Day!” she poked her other side as the giggling woman squirmed away from her finger, “Long!” a poke to her midsection. “When really it’s just-”

Levy threw a hand over her mouth, abruptly stopping her tirade, her other arm supporting her back so that she didn’t accidentally push Lisanna over.

“Shhhhhh!” she whispered in her ear. “This is all a part of the fun! Don’t spoil it!” Levy suddenly seemed to realize how close she was holding Lisanna and, recognizing that Lisanna wasn’t going to interrupt, she let her go and stood back. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t let you finish that sentence out loud where everyone could hear you.” She looked around then quietly offered as she leaned back in, “It’s like Fight Club. No one talks about the Black Hole after they’ve been on the Black Hole.”

Understanding bloomed across Lisanna’s face. She was trying to maintain her righteous indignation but it lost to her natural disposition for fun. She let out a little chuckle. “Oh, you got me. You got me good Ms. Levy Aloysius McGarden.”

“Aloysius?” Levy was clearly confused.

“Give me a break it’s the worst name I could think of in the heat of the moment,” Lisanna said with a grin. “Make no mistake, I will be getting you back for this.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Levy said. “So...uh...Do you want to go again?”

“Are you kidding?!” Lisanna scowled and Levy looked worried. “Of course I want to go again! And this time I’m keeping my eyes wide open.”

As they stood in line a nervous voice cut into their conversation.

“Excuse me, but have you gone on this slide before?” the young man, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, asked.

“Yeah,” Lisanna said with a friendly smile.

“How bad was it?” he asked clearly worried.

“Well I know it’s different for everyone,” Lisanna said, “but I hear that they have lifeguards with defibrillators at the bottom just in case your heart stops.”

He moaned and closed his eyes at her words while Lisanna turned back to move forward in line.

Levy put her arm around Lisanna’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “That's my girl. You were perfect,” she whispered into her ear.

They moved forward again. Levy looked closely at Lisanna and put a hand to her face. There was definitely a lot of heat there, and Lisanna had paled, like she might faint soon. Levy began to worry since heat stroke was nothing to take lightly. She declared, “We’d better get in the shade and maybe apply more sunblock after this ride. Your cheeks are starting to turn pink.”

Lisanna knew it wasn’t the sun that was heating her up, but merely nodded in agreement.

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