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im-in-vin-ci-ble · 3 years ago

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Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement.

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight.

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said.

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.”

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened.

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone.

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers.

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race.

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs.

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.”

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

#sorry this turned out way longer than expected #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #mark grayson #invincible fanfiction

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zaddylokiandthorsimp · 3 years ago

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Immersed ( part III)

Warning: creepy ram , manipulation, mention of violence

18+ only don't read if you're uncomfortable

“ ram what do you think about these grey one ” I show him the grey bangles that match the colour of my blouse

“ nice but how about the pink one ” he points to the pink bangles kept on display

“ nice but these one goes with my blouse”

“ well then guess we have to buy both” he signals the shopkeeper to pack the bangles as the shopkeeper hurriedly packs them looking happy with Ram's decision

“ but-” “ no but's” he shushes me with a finger on his lips

“ they are a gift jaan for you ” he hands me the bangles I give him a generous smile knowing damn well that he knows I don't have money

“ y/n” I hear someone calling my name catching both my and Ram's attention. We turn around to notice a guy wearing a yellow kurta moving towards us through the crowd

“ hello y/n " he goes to put his hand on my shoulder but stops when he notices ram staring at him with confusion and alert

“ oh ram I forgot to introduce you to shekhar my freind, ” I introduce them with a excited smile on my face as shekhar puts his hand out for a handshake

“ nice to meet you” Ram replies but doesn't shakes his hand still looking at home with suspicious eyes

“ let's go ” ram pushes my shoulder looking at shekhar one last time before leading me through the crowd

Shekhar was like a fresh air in my life air filled with happiness and sunshine that knew nothing other than helping people and loving me

Ram watched you with a smile on his face as you sleep peacefully with you're head resting on his shoulder oh how he wishes to stop the time just you and him like how it's supposed to be with no one else

The sun has gone down indicating that the moon will be coming soon and he can't help but compare you to the moon he is sure you're beauty will even make the moon shy

He remembers you're smile yesterday when you danced in the rain you're smile just like you filled with happiness like ray of sunshine coming to bless his life you are a gift for him send from the above his reward for all the hard work he's done

He remembers when he lost his father you were there with him the whole night consoling him you were there with him when he had to betray his dearest freind you were with him in every aspect of his lief and he wants to keep it like this but now no longer as a friend rather his wife

He remembers evey little things about the day you were born you're favourite food colour the first time you had you're period

He also remembers how you smiled at the shekhar his smile immediately disepearing even thinking about the shekhar makes him puke makes him want to beat him until he dies but he won't atleast not now

He smiles again thinking about the things he'd do to you ones you get married he keep his head on top of yours he closes his eyes and think about the life you'll spend together

Every thing would've been fine if only I knew the difference between love and freindship

He hates the way you're laughing at his jokes what did he say that you found so funny ram bets it something stupid and you're laughing at it because you're just being polite

“ hey guys ” oh how he loves the disappointed look on shekhar's face he thinks he can get to have you all alone

“ hi ram ” he puts his arm around you not missing the jealousy that flashed in shekhar's eye .

“ I think I should go i have work” shekhar leaves you and ram all alone just like he wished

Ram notices the tulip on you're hair furrowing his brows “ why is there tulip on you're hair”

“ oh” you touch the tulip resting on you're hair “ shekhar put this he likes tulips” why are you blushing while saying this god ge wants to punch shekhar for putting tulip on you're hair roses suits you the best and their your favourite he doesn't even know that

That was the start of my nightmare the person who made my life a living hell a big bad wolf disguised as a savior

Tagging my people

@manwalaage @lil-stark @manwalaage @thewinchestergirl1208 @contemporarykafka @gauri-vishalakshi @aurora2238 @irisesforyoureyes @itsfookingloosah @rambheem-is-real @adrakchutneyofficial @nerdreader @mayuriebubblie @darlingletshurttonight @redirection04 @arcxmantula @nainawithspecs @alien-chicken-baby @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @slurrrrp @miriseven @seherie @hissterical-nyaan @bromance-minus-the-b

#ram x reader #dark ram #ram x y/n #self insert #ram charan #immeresed series

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years ago

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$1 Smooches

Author: @alliswell21

Prompt: Everlark and a Kissing Booth [submitted by @mandelion82]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: Modern AU. ~1600 words _____________

“That game was rigged!” Katniss seethed.

“Lower your voice, Brainless! Do you want the carnies to curse you? I don’t, I’m standing right next to you!” Johanna hissed, slapping a hand over Katniss’ mouth.

“I’m sure carnival workers consider that a derogatory term,” Prim sighed, done with her companions silliness.

“Anything is offensive nowadays,” said Johanna, winded, after Katniss shoved her away.

Katniss scowled, giving another shove for good measure, “Cut it out, Johanna!”

Prim rolled her eyes. “You are aware, this is a charity event benefiting the hospital I work for, right? all booths are operated by volunteering hospital employees, which means the ring-the-bottle game wasn’t rigged,” Prim stared pointedly at her sister, “and nobody is getting cursed!” She glared at Johanna next, “Behave!”

There was nothing Katniss hated more than disappointing her baby sister. “I’m sorry, Prim, we’ll be better,” Katniss glared at her friend, “Right Jo?”

“Fine! But I demand a greasy, deep fried treat, and a big sugary drink to go with it!”

“Yay!” Primrose clapped, hooking her slender arms through her sister and friend’s elbows, “Lets have some fun!”

The trio came to a food booth, Prim piped in, “I’ll ordered us a funnel cake and two giant lemonades, you guys go find another game, I don’t mind waiting in line,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…and then we can go to the booth my department set up. My favorite nurse in the whole world is manning it!”

Katniss and Johanna walked past the inflatables and the bouncy castle, trying not to bump into families with rambunctious children, and then, they saw a ridiculously loud-excuse-of-an-eyesore-shack painted in pepto pink, decked to the gills with giant red and pink hearts sprouting from every corner of the stand, and a large, white sign crowning the top, announcing: “$1 Smooches”, spelled in blinking light bulbs, with a neon yellow arrow pointing downwards.

“A kissing booth?” Johanna arched her eyebrows, curiously.

The queue to the booth was very long and to Katniss’ surprise, composed mostly by female patrons.

“What. Is. that?!” Gasped Johanna, pointing to the booth while fanning herself with her free hand. Without further comment, Jo grabbed Katniss’ hand and marched straight for the kissing booth line.

“What—?”

“Come on Brainless, I have two singles in my wallet and a tube of chapstick ready for the hunk selling kisses!”

Katniss was momentarily confused, until she saw a muscular man with a boyish, lopsided smile, taking a crisp dollar bill from a very enthusiastic woman; a second later, the man puckered up his pink lips, and leaned forward, just outside the big window of the booth, forearms flexing deliciously against the sleeves of his polo shirt; a wayward curl of his ashy blonde hair fell over his forehead in just the right way.

“Oh!” Katniss gulped, falling into step with her best friend.

The line advanced impressively fast, for how long it was. In a matter of minutes, which was truly appreciated, since nobody particularly enjoyed being sandwiched between the baking sun and the suffocating blacktop of the lot. The girls were second to next line, but Johanna started sneezing uncontrollably, thanks to the cigarette smoke of a passerby.

“Ugh! This is a hospital’s parking lot! A no smoke zone!” Jo rasped angrily, “Here!” She shoved a balled up wad of cash into Katniss’ hands, and before her friend could stop her, she went after the smoking a-hole, to rip him a new one.

Katniss found herself at the front of line very suddenly, and the man beckoned her forward, lopsided grin, so inviting, she stepped up without consciously deciding to.

The man studied her quizzically for a moment, “Hello, there,” he greeted, “Are you an employee at Panem General, or are you a guest? You look familiar,” he said.

“Guest,” Katniss answered, a little too fast. She stepped backwards, rethinking her situation, the woman directly behind her, gave her a weak push forward, to keep her from stepping on her toes.

The man looked at the ball of cash in Katniss’ hands and smiled brightly. “Would you like to make a donation to Panem General’s pediatric wing? Every dollar counts,” he said softly.

Katniss nodded bashfully, not really understanding his words, too preoccupied with how velvety soft the man’s voice was. She handed him the whole wad, which apparently was $5 in crinkled $1 bills.

The guy took only one, and placed the rest of the money on the counter, next to Katniss’ hand, before leaning forward to brush his lips against Katniss’.

There was no telling how long the kiss lasted, but judging by the aggravated buzzing of complaints coming from behind Katniss, it had been long enough to warrant an annoyed calling out.

“Hey! Stop holding up the smooches!”

Katniss opened her eyes, shifting down to the ball of her feet. She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes and stretched on the tip of her toes during her kiss. She stared at the guy, who looked slightly dazed as he admired her back; his smile seemed even more crooked than before.

“Oh my gosh, you found our booth!” Prim cried out, startling Katniss. “Oh, and you met nurse Mellark!”

“What?!” The crowd behind Katniss grew restless and annoyed by the second. “I haven’t met any nurses—“

Katniss peered back at the booth suspiciously, expecting to see this nurse her sister spoke so much about, but the only person currently in the booth was the kissable blonde man, watching his sister with arched brows and surprise in his deep blue eyes.

“Hi, Peeta!” Prim waved, the guy in the booth waved back, but the next person in line stood in front of him, blocking his view.

“Wait…” Katniss pulled Prim further out, before the mob of angry women throttled them, “That man is nurse Mellark?” She asked, pointing back as discreetly as she could; the man was looking at them with badly veiled concern, while still trying to do his job, as host of the smooching booth. “You mean to tell me, the handsome man kissing half the fair is the nurse Mellark you’re always gushing about, with the home baked cookies and the cute little drawings for the oncology patients?” Her gray eyes x-rayed her sister.

“Uh, yeah,” Prim sounded a bit too nonchalant. “He’s amazing, let me tell you,” she sort of mumbled, studying her cuticles.

“Hey! What did I miss?” Johanna came back munching on a box of nachos, swimming in melted cheese. “Oooh! Elephant ear!” She said, snatching the funnel cake Prim was holding awkwardly.

“Primrose forgot to mention that her most favorite nurse in the whole world is a HE!” Katniss snapped.

“What?!”

“What’s so wrong about that? Men can be nurses,” Prim shrugged.

“But you didn’t tell me he was a man!”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were a sexist pig, Katniss.”

“I am not!”

Johanna giggled, stuffing her face with fair food.

“Nurse Mellark is a great care provider who loves children and does his absolute best to bring joy during the worst time of our patients’ lives…What does it matter if he’s a guy? He’s great! What did you expect anyway?” Prim countered defensively, stubbornly.

“I don’t know! An elderly lady, with lots of motherly wisdom or something… I mean, every time you talked about nurse Mellark, you mentioned delicious homemade pastries, and finger paints, and sweet bedtime stories… I never pictured nurse Mellark to be so…”

“Manly,” Johanna finished, looking at the man in the booth, dreamily, finally having caught on. “He’s more of a tall tree trunk I’d like to climb like a koala bear in heat… now where’s my cash, brainless, my lips are ready for some smacking,”

“Johanna!” Katniss growled, but her friend waved her off. A thought occurred to her just then. “Prim…” Katniss whispered into her sister’s ear, “Are you…okay with this?” She said motioning to the 20 or so women in line. “Are you okay with all these people kissing nurse Mellark?”

Primrose’s lips twitched, “Why wouldn’t I be? This booth was sort of my idea… it was actually more about Doctor Odair selling the kisses, but nurse Mellark was very good sport, volunteering, ” She rolled her blue eyes.

“Mmm… I just thought, maybe you had a thing for him?”

“For Peeta?!” Prim said loudly, before laughing hysterically.

Katniss’ eyes shifted everywhere, and to her chagrin, the man in question— Peeta, apparently— looked up at his name.

“Not so loud!” Katniss hissed, but got interrupted by a booming voice.

“Ladies, it is time for me to take a break.” Announced nurse Mellark— Peeta— A chorus of disgruntled patrons filled the air, but the man raised his hands placatingly, “Not to worry everyone, my pinch hitter, Doctor Odair, is ready to take over!”

As if by magic, the most attractive man Katniss had ever seen in her life— besides the beautiful male nurse, of course— popped from beside nurse Mellark and a collective swooning sigh rapped over the small crowd.

Prim laughed. “Come on, I’ll introduce you guys properly. You’re going to love Peeta!”

“Hell no! I’m paying double for the new guy! You gals go ahead,” Johanna called, wolf whistling at the newcomer, waving two dollar bills in the air.

A moment later, Prim had dragged Katniss to meet her most favorite nurse, secretly crossing her fingers as she made introductions…she thought Peeta and Katniss were perfect for each other, and she wholeheartedly hoped they would kick it off right away, so when she was wrinkly and white haired, she could tell her grand nephews and nieces the story of how their grandma paid a dollar to kiss their grandpa for the very first time.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter 2021 #Valentine’s Day #alliswell21 #submission #prompt

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 1 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

meet me by the train station.

the place's bustlin' and tori's here with me, just in case you're worried 'bout meeting a stranger all alone.

That's surprisingly thoughtful.

And I'm guessing Tori means Toriel?

The goat lady who looked after Frisk?

yup.

she's gotta go deal with some legal stuff 'bout us living on the surface, so she can't stay for long.

but she'll still be here by the time you get there.

Hmm…

Now that just makes me more suspicious of you.

Tell me why it's important that only you specifically want to talk to me about this?

Doesn't Toriel know about what happened down there, too?

yeah, but…

i need to talk to you about somethin' else.

stuff that'll probably be a lil' difficult for me to explain, but that you should still know, being frisk's parent and all.

Now I'm curious.

I'm stuck in some traffic, but I should be there soon.

Would it still be okay with Toriel if I get there in the next ten to fifteen minutes?

textin' while drivin'?

My aunt chose to drive me here.

'Cuz she also said she doesn't trust the whole situation much.

heh.

alright.

tori says it's fine. she doesn't need to leave in the next hour so…

see ya soon, (l/n).

See you soon, mister Serif.

"How's he gonna know who you are if only you have a picture of him?" you aunt asks, eyes locked on the road. Her bright red nails, just as flashy as the rest of her outfit, glisten under the sun, fantasy jewellery and wrist watch doing the same. Her tanned skin almost glows with health in comparison to yours, yet to be healed from the past two months of tension and wait. There's also her signature and almost hair salon professional level of cleanliness when it came to grooming her hair, making her overall, outer appearance far more different and striking when compared to you.

"(Mom/Dad)'s all over the news now!" Frisk says, answering her question before you can even word your thoughts out in mind, too busy noticing how much you've let yourself go in so short of a time.

You plug your phone to the car charger and meet with the side view of your aunt's face. "Like Frisk said. The guy I'm meeting says my face's been thrown out on the news a lot lately, so he already knows what I look like." You pull down the mirror and take a quick look at yourself, eye bags and stress acne now partially covered with a cheap, (s/t) foundation and expression made to look less tired thanks to a full eight hours of sleep. Still, you're far from looking anywhere near to the days before Frisk's disappearance or all the pictures displayed on the news, these from a similar time. All the stress and constant sorrow was still present on most of your features, from something as subtle as the loss of brightness in your eyes to something as noticeable as the drag in your walk and the small slump in your posture.

"Do I look okay, auntie?" you ask, taking advantage of a stop sign.

Brenda spares a quick but meaningful glance at you and a small smile manages to show on her face. She stays quiet even as her eyes go back to facing the road. At a second stop, this one caused by a red light, she looks at you again, saying, "Why are you so concerned about that, dear? I get wanting to look well and dignified for meeting new people, but this is the third time you've asked me today." She giggles when Frisk does, both apparently sharing the same thought. "You look fine, by the way. Though a bit of rest could do you good." The light changes and she carries on driving, slowing down and turning on the signal when she sees the train station to her left. "How many hours do you work, by the way? If you're still working overtime, you should stop that now. Not only for my dear grandchild's sake, but for you to get your long overdue beauty sleep."

"...Sixty hours a week?" you mutter, already anticipating a dramatic reaction from her. Even Frisk seems to notice your answer's not favourable enough to her, so they brace themselves by grabbing on to their seatbelt and pretending they're not paying attention to the conversation anymore.

Staying true to herself, Brenda almost slams the brakes just as she's halfway into parallel parking and snaps her gaze over to you, eyes wide and mouth agape. "What?!"

"Sixty a week," you repeat, louder now. "I had to get my mind off Frisk going missing somehow, so I... took that chance to save up some more by working overtime."

"That's fifteen hours too much, dear." She frowns. "That's either twelve hours a day for five days a week, or working non-stop every day for at least eight to nine hours! No wonder you look so stressed. What about your friends? Your family? Your coworkers?" She seems to notice why you've lowered your voice and does that herself, reminded over Frisk's presence at the back seats. "Oh, honey…" She sighs. "Did you really just work, eat, and sleep those two months they were gone?"

"...Maybe," you reply, looking away from her. "I just didn't know what else to do, and having free time for myself made me feel more guilty about it. The only time I sat down was to watch some TV for when I couldn't sleep at night."

Your aunt finishes parking and lets out another sigh. A gentler look crosses her eyes and she gives in, letting her body relax. "Do you have enough to get by? Please, be honest with me so I can help you out. Alright?"

You smile back at her and nod. "I have enough now. I'm pretty sure I can get by with a regular schedule again."

"With weekends off?"

"With weekends off."

Her smile grows and she unlocks the car, allowing you to step out. "Be careful out there, alright? Just make sure to call me and I'll head back here straight away if anything strange comes up."

"Thank you, auntie. So I'll pick up Frisk at five?"

"Oh, there's no rush. You can always stay the night, anyway!"

After a nod, you get down from the car, open the back door, and climb onto the empty seat left next to Frisk.

"See you later, dear."

You kiss their cheek and look at the phone resting in their hands. There were plenty of questions you wanted to ask them, such as who was Alphys and how she'd gained enough knowledge to develop something with that level of technology, and why it still worked up here despite being programmed to function at the Underground. You remind yourself of the people waiting for you at the train station and wrestle those curiosities down, setting all questions aside for later. "Be good, okay?"

They nod, sign a "Love you!" with their hand, and hold you back to give you a yellow sticky note, folded in two. "Give this to him. And don't forget he can be unexpected sometimes!"

You sign an "I love you, too" back to them, take the note, and step out of the car, waving at them and your aunt before closing the door and pocketing the note away. It stays unread, and while you'd like to know what's written on it as well as the reasons for Frisk warning you about meeting with that monster in particular, they'd specified it was for more sillier reasons, like that of meeting up with a stand up comedian, or more frankly put: a clown or a court jester.

Now alone, you take out your phone and check the messages, a new one from 'Mister Serif' showing up.

hey, uh…

tori hadda go.

an emergency happened, so now she's gotta rush off to the department to see what's up with some documents she turned in.

i know this seems sus as hell, so just wait for me at a more open area, alright?

stick to anybody you're comfortable with and we'll meet there.

I'm honestly touched at how much you're worried about this.

Though all that just makes me think I'm being catfished even more now.

Are you for real, mister Serif?

Can someone be as observant and thoughtful as you appear to be?

see for yourself.

>> Attachment - 1 image

You can't avoid being taken aback when the monster sends you a picture of himself. It's a definite recent one, given he's sitting by a bench close to the train tracks. He holds up a shaka sign with one hand and a coffee cup on the other. A grin decorates his face and the bright lighting shows the picture was taken just now, sun rays piercing through the windows.

I'm somewhat convinced.

need more proof?

Who are you, my Cinder match?

if u wanna.

Oh God.

You're killing me.

inna good way?

Perhaps.

You stop yourself when you realize you're on the verge of flirting with someone you haven't even met in person yet, let alone introduce yourself properly to. The picture he'd sent doesn't help either, as you can only begin to question yourself and your morals over having found him attractive for a split second. While it could have just as easily been the surprise of him sending a picture out of nowhere, it could've also been how laid-back he seemed in that picture, striking a shaka sign that made him look just like a surfer dude and a coffee cup to contrast with that vibe, adding a spark of the typical college student you saw at campus, his hoodie and sneakers only adding to that feeling.

It's then that you realize something's off.

If he was holding a cup with one hand and a sign in the other…

Then who took the picture?

Though you're pretty sure you're overthinking the situation now, you're still better safe than sorry and take advantage of your recent fooling around with him to pass that worry off as a joke.

Wait a minute, mister Serif.

yeah?

If you're holding a cup with one hand and striking a pose with the other, then who took the picture?

Or did you use your magic for that?

a random dude who looked trustworthy enough took it for me.

he's one of those guys who're totally ok with us living here at the surface, so he just snapped the picture for me and even asked if it was for a date i was gonna meet and all.

no magic needed.

And I'm the President of the United States.

But, seriously now…

Are you for real?

yeah.

>> Attachment - 1 image

The picture displays him with a bearded, brown skinned man clad in a suit and holding a suitcase, looking ready for work. Still, his smile shows little to no seriousness and instead displays youth and content over having his picture taken with a potential friend. His height surpasses the monster's by half a foot, though when you compare it to the rest of the people in the background, it's clear Serif is simply shorter compared to the average human. You try not to let your eyes linger too much on the monster when you're done looking at the man, not wanting to fall into the trap of your mind having found him attractive earlier ago. Still, you can't help yourself and take a more thorough look at him again, seeing him now with his eye sockets closed, almost mimicking a pair of eyelids squinting in joy. His arm's hung over the man's shoulders, and vice-versa.

i made a new pal.

"meet up already!" - his words, not mine.

Trying to be smooth, huh?

maybe.

is it working?

Somewhat.

But...

Strange Cinder date vibes aside,

I'm almost there.

aight.

can't wait to meet ya, bud.

You slip the phone back in your pocket and go up the stairs of the train station, stopping when you make it to the line of benches close to the tracks. True to his word, the skeleton sits on one of them and the man who'd taken a picture with him is now waving at him, seemingly saying his goodbyes and headed off to work. You approach the station one careful step after the other, pace slowing down more and more as you feel a sudden awkwardness slip on your shoulders.

Your texts sent off vibes you didn't want present now that you were about to meet him in person. You were still worried about what happened with Frisk a few days ago, and how their happiness pretty much froze when being asked if the monsters had treated them well during their time at the Underground. The one you were about to meet could very well be one of those who'd hurt them, so you brace yourself and try not to be swayed by the softer atmosphere present during your texting with him. You acknowledge the man who'd taken his picture with a wave and a smile back at him. Then, you continue walking and finally approach the bench.

"It's nice to meet you, mister Serif." You acknowledge him with a wave, unsure of how friendly you can be with him.

"Likewise, pal." He holds a hand out to you, bringing forth the warning Frisk had given to you about him.

Out of all the things Frisk had warned you about, it was to be careful around the skeleton, but primarily due to how he seemed to be the type to joke around and prank people often. One thing in particular you were warned about was in shaking hands with him, so right as he offers his hand out to you and just as you're about to reach out, you miss his hand, take a step closer, and pull him along for a hug instead. You then unfold the sticky note and press it against his back with enough pressure for him to feel it and let go when you're done.

"Frisk warned me about you, and even though they haven't told me anything I should be worrying about yet, I do know I should be careful for other reasons. And they told me to give that note to you, by the way."

You sit down and watch as the monster attempts to get the sticky note unstuck, his short height proving to be a disadvantage, as it also comes with shorter arms. He goes as far as to use his magic to get it out, leaving you to bite back a smile and wonder if you've been too rude with him just now. Still, you wait and keep your eyes on the train tracks while he reads the note you've left for him.

"Not gonna say anything about it?" you ask, surprised to hear nothing from him even as he slips the note in his pocket.

"Patience, pal," he replies, words followed with a chuckle and continued with a wink. "Just take it as some friendly payback on my part -- Now we're even." He sits back down and meets with your eyes, his expression changing from humoured to stern at the drop of a hat. "So, what you're sayin' here is the kid hasn't said much about me yet?"

"No," you reply, hesitating. You fight between keeping a smile and a frown. "They've been awfully quiet after I asked them if there were any people down there who treated them badly." You catch yourself becoming emotional, so you breathe and blink a few times to fight that back. "It... It feels like they shut themselves away from me, and now I'm not too sure about how to approach the situation anymore." You stop to catch your breath again, feeling yourself grow anxious already. "They can talk non-stop when it's about all the good things Toriel, Alphys, Papyrus, and… And even what you did for them, but whenever I ask if there was anything that made them feel unsafe, they… They bottle up and run off to do whatever chore there's left to do around the house."

A gust of wind helps freshen up your burning face, product of a train stopping nearby. You wait for him to speak up, body tensed all the while.

"Y'know, I…" The monster sighs, faces down, and rubs the back of his neck, looking lost in thought. "I think I can answer that for ya, but it's gonna be a bit of a long story." He glances at his phone for a moment, seemingly to check the time, and later adds, "Wanna head out somewhere to eat? We can talk about it there over food and drinks. Better than talkin' on an empty stomach, don't you think?"

Despite how somber the mood's become, that trademark grin of his you've already grown used to seems to stand out a lot more now, bringing forth a genuine, welcoming expression in addition to the offer he'd made to you. "Sure," you reply, smile returning. "And... Sorry for dumping all that on you all of a sudden."

You both stand up and make your way out of the station, walking side by side as you continue with the conversation.

"It's cool, pal," he says. "I'd be a lot more worried if you didn't worry about it."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

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

This turned out to be a whopping 7k+ word long chapter, so it's been divide into 3 parts (between 2k to 3k words each, which is the usual length of each update).

So... Long story short: there'll be a double update next week in order to post Parts 2 and 3!

Expect the same thing for whenever a chapter exceeds that limit. :-)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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mst3kproject · 4 years ago

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The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues

I found this movie online while looking for From Hell It Came (which I haven’t yet found – someday I will and then you’ll all be sorry) and it looked bad, so I checked out the details. Turns out it stars Kent Taylor from The Crawling Hand, Cathy Downs from The Amazing Colossal Man, and was written by Lou Rusoff, who was behind It Conquered the World, The She-Creature, and… oh god, he also wrote Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow. This is gonna suck goat nads. I must watch it right away.

You shouldn’t picture me groaning when I write stuff like that, by the way. You should picture me giggling like a maniac and rubbing my hands together with glee.

A monster is killing people at sea near an incredibly bleak and depressing California college town, and the bodies and wrecked boats it leaves in its wake are scorched by radioactivity! Washington sends Agent Grant to find out what’s going on, and he soon discovers that the Pacific College of Oceanography is positively overflowing with suspicious characters. There’s the reclusive and paranoid Professor King, who is working on weird experiments in his locked laboratory. There’s King’s assistant George, who follows him around and hides in the bushes to watch what he’s doing. King’s secretary Ethel blames the professor for the death of her son and wants revenge, and George’s girlfriend Wanda is a foreign agent. Not to mention the visiting Dr. Stevens, a radiation expert with an unsettling habit of turning up just in time to discover the bodies. Someone among this motley crew has created a sea monster… and someone else is planning to sell it to the highest bidder!

You know how some movies save their monsters until the last minute, in order to build suspense? Or because what we imagine is always scarier than what we actually see? Or because the monster sucks and they’re ashamed of it? Or some combination of the above?

Phantom from 10 000 Leagues is not one of those movies. Before we’re even a full minute into it, the monster has appeared on screen in all its ridiculous glory. Stevens calls it a hideous beast that defies description but I think I can make an attempt. It looks sort of like the lovechild of a saber-toothed tiger and the Horror of Party Beach. There’s a ridge down its head and back like an iguana and a poorly-camouflaged window in its neck so the dude inside can see what he’s doing. The whole costume is also rather buoyant, and the actor is having to work hard to stay underwater. Sadly, this beast remains lurking in the depths and never shambles out onto the beach to menace sunbathers, which is the only thing it would have needed to make it a perfect bad movie monster.

The creature is not the only nuclear threat in this movie… or even the silliest one! During an investigatory dive, Stevens discovers a glowing patch on the seafloor which he says represents an ‘activated’ uranium deposit with the potential to form a naturally-occurring death ray! We finally get to see this in action when stock footage of a ship passes over it – and turns into a different ship that immediately blows up! I’m just sad this only happens once. The glowing stone itself is represented by a mirror with a light shining on it in underwater shots, and by the reflection of the sun when seen from the surface.

So the effects are not special and make an already silly threat even more hilarious. What about the story? Like all cheap monster movies, the focus of The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues is not the creature killing people but the investigation into it. There’s a large number of potential monster-makers here, which could have made the movie a bit messy – but by the time the words The End appear, we know who all these people are, how they’re involved, and what they hope to accomplish. Even the women are given distinct motivations and personalities, although those fall neatly into the ‘maiden, mother and whore’ tropes I’ve discussed in the past. The dialogue is not exactly subtle, but it seems like I can’t wholly blame Lou Rousoff for Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow.

It’s also nice that, despite the preponderance of White Men In Suits (Stevens and Grant both walk along the beach in suits and ties at all hours of the day and night), the characters all look different enough that I can tell them apart! None of the cast are great actors, with a lot of stilted or awkward line deliveries, but then, a lot of the things they’re saying are completely ridiculous, so I probably can’t lay that entirely at their feet.

Unfortunately, the plot of Phantom From 10 000 Leagues is rather unfocused, and like so many of these films it’s not sure who its main character is. It seems like either Agent Grant or Dr. Stevens, who are each conducting some kind of investigation into the goings-on, ought to be the protagonist… but both are introduced in contexts that make them seem potentially suspicious. Dr. Stevens is actually significantly more suspicious than Grant, because when he first turns up he gives a fake name, and later proves to have actually performed experiments with mutating sea life in the past. Yet for much of the movie, it’s Stevens we’re watching, as he cozies up to Professor King and flirts with King’s daughter Lois. He actually gets far more screen time than Grant, with the latter sometimes being out of the movie for long enough that the audience kind of forgets he’s there.

Stevens and Lois’ love story is, as is probably inevitable for a movie of this kind, completely bland. Kent Taylor and Cathy Downs have no appreciable spark between them, and one gets the uncomfortable impression that he’s about twice her age. The movie never offers even an approximate age for either character, but Lois is still unmarried and living with her father, which in the 1950s suggests she’s in her early twenties. King describes Stevens as a ‘young man’ but between his appearance and his impressive academic credentials he’s obviously not, and when I looked up the actors I learned that Taylor was forty-eight when The Phantom from 10 000 Leagues was made, while Downs was twenty-nine. That’s… well, they’re both adults, but he’s still old enough to be her father, and the younger we assume they both are, the worse the two decade gap gets.

Once we actually get to know the characters, the solution to the mysteries is fairly obvious, but this lets us spend some actual time with these men and find out what they think about the situation. Stevens, who’s been down this road before, wants these terrible experiments to stop before any more people get hurt. King, hearing about it for the first time, is more excited about what he might be able to learn by building on Stevens’ work. This represents an interesting inversion because if you’ll recall, King is supposed to be significantly older than Stevens (though actor Michael Whelan was actually born only five years before Taylor).

Usually knowledge and wisdom are both associated with age. This is a very old trope and has some fairly sound logic behind it: the elderly have had longer to learn and to experience. In Phantom from 10 000 Leagues, however, we have the older Professor King excited by the ground-breaking discoveries made by a younger scientist and wanting to learn more about them, even when the (supposedly) younger Stevens warns him about Tampering in God’s Domain. Each assumes the role their ages might make us expect of the other.

This is reflected in their respective fields: depending on how you define it, oceanography is as old as mankind. Humanity has been mapping the seas for as long as we’ve known how to sail across them, and marveling at the monsters we pull from its depths for as long as we’ve been catching fish. That is the Professor King’s domain. Stevens, on the other hand, is a specifically nuclear scientist. Nuclear physics technically begins with the discovery of radioactivity in the 1890’s, but it seemed like a new and scary field in the 1950s, as the development of atomic weapons forced scientists to take a closer look at the phenomenon’s effect on living tissues. To King, who is an expert in another field, the possibilities of this relatively new work outweigh the potential consequences.

As sloppy and poorly-made as Phantom from 10 000 Leagues can be, this contrast between Stevens and King does make it a movie with something to say. It of course has the standard moral for a fifties atomic monster piece, about paths science is not meant to tread, but it also wants us to think about that connection between age and wisdom. On the one hand, King’s interest in Stevens’ work tells us that you’re never too old to learn something new. On the other, just because somebody is young doesn’t mean they have nothing to teach. If King had taken in Stevens’ wisdom along with his knowledge, a lot of suffering need not have happened.

Even if you’re not into that, the crappy monster, the bad acting, the ridiculous science, and all the sneaking around and backstabbing that goes on makes Phantom from 10 000 Leagues plenty of fun watch. It’s much like Beginning of the End in that it ticks all the MST3K boxes, while remaining coherent enough that you can enjoy the actual story along with the badness.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #phantom from 10000 leagues #it's beginning to look a lot like fishmen #50s

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ellewritesathing · 4 years ago

Text

Figure It Out

Summary: The Fright Club stumbles across an injured werewolf chased out of town by hunters.

Masterlist

Word-count: 2.8k+

A/N: this caliban x fem!reader was requested by the lovely and ever-so-patient @none-of-this-makes-any-sense 💕 hope you guys enjoy!!

When you’re running from something, your body reaches a point where it wants to give up. Your muscles ache, your lungs burn, and all your joints cry out. Every step becomes its own misery when you reach that point - and that was without poison eating away at your insides - but your choices were to either keep running or be killed.

The hunters had fallen away sometime during the night, and it was only after you’d made it out of the woods and spotted the broken and graffitied Welcome to Greendale sign that you realized they'd stopped following you because you crossed town lines. Their treaties prevented them from hunting on land that was already claimed.

Greendale was claimed by the witches. No hunter, regardless of what their prey was, was allowed in Greendale, but that didn’t exactly make Greendale an accepting place. The last werewolf you’d heard of Greendale had been kept as a familiar and killed by one of the witches. The Greendale witches were why you would have kept running if you could.

But you couldn’t. The second your mind realized you were safe from the hunters, it stopped giving your muscles the adrenaline they needed to keep going. Without pure survival to focus on, you were acutely aware of how much pain you were in.

A trail of black blood followed you all the way from the Welcome to Greendale sign to the garage you’d broken into and curled up in. The pain had left you too exhausted to deal with the fear of being found, so you told yourself that you could deal with staying hidden if you survived the night.

It was light out when you woke up, annoying rays of sunlight streaming through the glass on the garage, and now you had to deal with getting out of Greendale and finding your pack before the hunters found you. The problem was that, between you and the door, stood a horde of teenagers.

They stood in a huddle and whispered furiously at each other. Not to each other; they were arguing too much and not listening to each other to qualify as whispering to each other. The sight of them would have been funny - with two being much taller than the rest and having to stoop, while one was annoyed at the close proximity, and the leader being the tiniest blonde girl you’d ever seen - if they weren’t standing between you and your escape.

One of the shorter ones - a guy with a mess of brown curls on his head - spotted that you were awake while you were sizing them up. He patted the arm of the guy next to him - tall, blonde hair, heartstoppingly attractive - and nodded over at you when he got his attention.

“Apologies, my lady,” the taller one said as he straightened up, interrupting the tiny blonde as he did. He looked at you curiously, not malevolently, but not exactly kindly either, “but it appears our friend has woken up.”

The tiny blonde was only momentarily irritated at the interruption, but she looked more carefully suspicious than bothered when she turned to you. She hadn’t managed to do anything to you in the second after saying ‘oh’ and turning to look at you, but your brain screamed that she was a witch anyway.

“Uh, hi,” she said with a second-too-late smile. She took a step closer. “My name is Sabrina and these are my friends.”

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t like lying on the floor with them standing over you. Trying to look tougher than you felt, you pulled yourself into a sitting position.

“Okay, well, we’re here to help you,” Sabrina said. She did her best to push past the awkwardness and connect with you. “So if there’s anything that you could tell us, maybe about how you got that stomach wound … no? Okay, uh-”

You watched Sabrina wring out her hands awkwardly as she cast a look at her group. There was only one other witch, something you couldn’t place, and then three humans.

At least, you thought to yourself, you passed for human.

Sabrina’s friends each mumbled some awkward sentences, except for the tall blonde. He was the one you couldn’t place, but he didn’t make you nervous because of the uncertainty. He made you nervous because he kept staring at you without saying anything.

“-Well, we can’t really help you if you don’t talk to us,” Sabrina continued, her patience wearing thin. She looked like she was going to keep going when the blonde took his eyes off you and straightened up.

“She’s not going to tell you anything,” he said. His voice was more sure of itself than the others, clearly used to being the voice that commands a room “-because she’s afraid. Aren’t you, little wolf?”

“Little wolf?” the shorter one with curly brown hair and the other girl asked at the same time. They were an odd mixture of offense at the pet name and confusion at the origin of the name itself. If you weren’t so horrified by the revelation, their expressions would have made you smile.

But survival came before smiling. You set your jaw as you tried to move again, but you winced at the tugging of your injured muscles. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said through gritted teeth in an attempt to recover.

“Don’t I?” the blonde asked. He smiled as he walked closer to you, each step was as careful as the smile on his face. He crouched in front of you. “I was created in the pits of Hell; I learned to sniff out a werewolf before I learned how to talk.”

“I don’t think a demon has the right to judge,” you said in a strained voice.

He seemed amused by your defiance and used the moment of amusement to launch your attack. You struck out and kicked his leg out from under him. As he fell, you scrambled to your feet and bolted towards the door.

Unfortunately, Sabrina and her horde of friends had other plans. The other tall brunette raced behind you to grab you, and it took all of your limited energy to push him away. The witches were arguing about spelling you, and the humans were worried about their friend.

The tall blonde recovered quicker than you expected. He grabbed you from behind and restrained you fairly easily, despite your weak attempts to fight him off. Eventually, you realized that struggling was useless and decided to save your energy.

“So that was fun,” the other witch said. He pushed some black hair out of his face and sighed, but he shot you a smile anyway.

“Maybe because she didn’t punch you,” the brunette grumbled as his friends picked him up off the floor.

“Maybe because I didn’t attack her,” the witch said with a superior tilt of his head. He looked away from the human and to Sabrina. “Who cares if she’s a werewolf? Let’s just heal her wounds and let her go.”

“Let her go?” Sabrina asked. Again, she looked like she was going to argue when the tall blonde spoke.

His voice rumbled when he spoke because he was so close to you. “While I hate to agree with Nicholas, she’s not a threat, my lady. There is no reason for us to keep her here.”

There was still something about him that you didn’t trust, despite his advocating for your release, but you didn’t say anything. If he was going to be the one that got you out of the witches’ den, then you’d let him and deal with your distrust later on.

“I, uh-” the short curly-haired one started uncertainly. “I agree. I mean, she’s not a threat to anyone other than Harvey, no offense. Are you?”

It took you a second to realize that he was talking to you. He was kinder than his friends.

“No.” Your voice was quiet but it sounded deafening while everyone waited for you to answer. Trying to sound less unsure, you added, “I just want to go home.”

“If that’s the case, why did you come here?” Sabrina asked.

“Trust me, it wasn’t by choice,” you said. You tried to move and the blonde tightened his arms around you. You turned to glare at him. “Do you mind?”

“Are you going to kick me again if I say yes?” he asked. He was smiling again, not necessarily malevolently but mischievously. You realized it was because he was flirting with you.

“Let her go, Caliban,” the witch said. His protectiveness was unusual.

Caliban said something about how dear Nicholas was always looking out for the underdog. Whatever he was implying was clearly pointed at Nick and not you, but it didn’t sit well with you.

Still, he let you go, and you started walking over to the spot where you’d slept when your muscles had enough of your abuse and wobbled underneath you. One of the humans caught you, the girl.

She gave you an uncertain smile as she helped you stand. “I’m Roz,” she said. She nodded to each of her friends as she introduced them. “That’s Harvey and Theo. You already kinda met Brina, Nick, and Caliban.”

There was something about her that made you feel safe enough to tell her your name, even though you regretted it the second you were done. Then she asked where you were from and, again, you felt yourself giving out more information than you would have otherwise.

“Why did you come all this way?” Roz asked. She seemed genuinely concerned about you.

“My pack was attacked by hunters,” you said. “They didn’t follow me once I crossed into Greendale.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sabrina asked. “We’ve had some run-ins with witch hunters.”

You shook your head. “Different kind of hunters,” you said.

You pulled your hand away from your stomach and looked at the black blood. It should have healed by now, but the blood was still thick and dark. At least it wasn’t smoking anymore, but you would still die if it wasn’t treated.

“That doesn’t look good,” Roz said, sounding uncertain.

“Doesn’t feel good either,” you said. You pulled your lips into a tight smile and shrugged off everything else. “I’ll be fine once I get home.”

“Let me take you to my aunt,” Sabrina said. “She specializes in herbal medicines.”

“Thanks, but I can take it from here,” you said.

“Nicholas was the one that killed the wolf,” Caliban said. The casualness in his voice made you stop walking. “No one else has blood on their hands. You’re safe.”

“I think that’s a relative term,” you said.

“Please,” Nick said, as gently as he could, given the annoyance at his friend. Maybe 'friend' was a relative term as well. “Let us help you.”

---

One of Sabrina’s aunts was all too pleased to treat you, but the other was less happy to have you in their home. She didn’t like dogs. You reminded her, as politely as you could with wolfsbane blackening your veins, that you weren’t a dog.

Despite the emotional control you were capable of, if Hilda had waited for a half-hour more to treat you then you wouldn’t have been able to control the shift. The humans were handling your wolfish tendencies better than you expected them to, but your presence seemed to remind Nick and Sabrina of a memory that made him sad and her uncomfortable.

And then there was Caliban. You couldn’t quite figure out how you made him feel. He watched you more carefully than the others, not because he was afraid of you, but because he was trying to figure you out. You liked that you weren’t easy for him to figure out, but you hated that you didn’t know what he was thinking.

Did he think you were impressive for making it this far on your own? Was he wondering if you were a bitten wolf or if you were born this way? What had he meant when he made that comment about sniffing out werewolves - did those memories have anything to do with why he stared at you the way he did?

The hunters attacked before you had the chance to bring the answers to those questions to light. They appeared out of nowhere, just as Hilda took out a pie (‘because she can’t send you home on an empty stomach!’), with their guns blazing.

Unfortunately for you, the witches were on unsteady terms with their higher power. Their powers were fickle and fleeting, which meant they couldn’t be counted on for reliability in the fight.

There were other ways to fight, of course, because the humans were still around and they were determined not to lose, but any supernatural intervention had to be left to you and Caliban.

Somewhere in the middle of the fight, you took shelter behind a family-sized headstone. You were about to get back into the fight when Caliban appeared next to you, out of breath and with blood on his cheek.

His cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide, and his smile crooked. He looked so completely and utterly alive that he made your heart beat quicker just by standing next to him. His smile curled deeper when he noticed your staring.

“See something you like, little wolf?” he asked.

Deciding that if you were going to die or get out and never see him again anyway, you smiled and leaned in to touch his face. You cupped his cheek and ran your thumb underneath his eye.

Pulling your hand away, you showed him the red stain on your thumb. “You have blood on your cheek.”

You and Caliban made a good team, all things considered, and managed to get rid of the hunters relatively quickly after the headstone moment with the help of a few spells and a scary-looking baseball bat. Your success was not without injury, on both sides, but nothing had been laced with wolfsbane or any other lethal plants.

You sipped on Hilda’s healing tea and watched her treat the others. The humans were her first concern, but their wounds were superficial, and they went home soon after the fighting stopped. It was strange to see how close they all were with each other and then see how easily the witches adapted to their night without the humans.

They settled easily, as if they hadn’t just been attacked by hunters. They’d been kind enough to invite you to spend the night, but you were still deciding if you could survive spending another night in Greendale.

As you excused yourself to nurse your healing tea on the patio and look out at the night sky, you had to admit the view was nice. You were trying to trace how far you’d have to run on your way home when Caliban sat next to you on the porch swing.

The swing rocked back and forth as you glanced at him. He’d showered and changed since the fight, as all the other witches had, and washed away all the blood from his face. Caliban stared straight ahead at the night sky, but you knew he could tell whenever you looked at him.

Yes, you thought to yourself as you took a sip of tea, the view here was very nice.

“Are you staying?”

You hummed and turned to look at Caliban, pretending not to be paying as much attention to him as you were. “Hmm?”

Caliban smiled as he stared at the sky. It was very clear that he knew what game you were playing when he turned to look at you. “You’re a long way from home. Are you going to travel all that distance in the dark?”

You shrugged. “What does it matter to you?”

“Never said it did, little wolf,” Caliban said easily.

You rolled your eyes and looked back at the night sky. All you knew was that you had to be back before the next full moon … but one more night couldn’t hurt.

“Truth be told, there’s something about you that I can’t explain,” Caliban confessed. He reached his hand out and touched your cheek. His fingers were warm. He wiped something off your cheek and pulled his hand away to show some of Hilda’s healing whatever-it-was. Even pulled back, Caliban's hand was still close to your face. “I’d like it if you stayed until I figured that out.”

“Kiss me,” you said without thinking about it.

You thought he’d argue but all he said before he leaned in was “okay,” and then he kissed you. It made your heart race so quickly that for a second you worried about shifting in front of him. He pulled away as soon as your anxiety set it.

When you caught your breath, you asked, “Figured it out yet?”

“Not even close,” Caliban said with a devilish smile.

#figure it out #caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Caliban #caliban imagine #caliban x reader

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riderunlove · 3 years ago

Text

Guns and Ghosts 14/16(?)

Normal was more difficult than he’d hoped, because it was a new normal. Not that anyone would acknowledge the new parts. He remembered everything that he had done for Caleb- and how he had been treated there. Sometimes he flinched when Reggie threw himself at him for a tackle hug, or started looking for exits when Alex started a very frustrated rant. If they noticed his reactions, then they got twitchy. He tried explaining a couple of times, and they had just made feeble excuses and left, not ready to talk about it. It got even harder as flashes of the in between time started to come back. He stopped calling Julie “boss”, unable to stand her pained expression. They’d lived with his quiet shadow and didn’t want to be reminded of that. Undercover personas had never been his strength, but he would make this one work. He could be the version of him they needed, and he’d figure out the rest. He shoved the dark moments down, hid his nightmares, and never let on that some of the changes that made him into the ghost were permanent. There were days it was agonizing and overwhelming, but he would do what it took to protect his family-even if it was from him. It mostly worked, but nothing was foolproof.

Last night, Julie, Flynn, Reggie and Alex had all gone to Ray’s for dinner- which he didn’t even find out about until he asked Bobby later while scrounging for leftovers. He told himself it was expected, it was almost Alex’s birthday. They always celebrated with Ray. Trevor wouldn’t have let him go anyway. He wasn’t supposed to leave the base. He’d been wandering the halls, trying to relax enough to sleep when he’d overheard them return. Alex had been ecstatic because he’d finally gotten to introduce Willie to Ray- and of course it went wonderfully. Luke wondered briefly if anyone had noticed his absence.

But today was going to be great. He’d make German chocolate cake for Alex’s birthday, like he did every year. Reggie was the chef, but he was a better baker. Assuming Alex doesn’t think I'm trying to poison him, half the time he refuses to eat something if he knows it’s from me, he thought bitterly. He shoved those feelings down, if he didn’t get started he wouldn’t be finished before his spar with Reggie that afternoon.

He wasn’t alone for long.

“What are you up to?” Julie asked, a tentative smile on her face.

“German chocolate cake for Alex,” he replied. A peace offering.

“He’ll love it! Can I help?”

“Definitely, the recipe is a bit complicated.”

They fell into a rhythm, an easy conversation flowing as they reminisced on previous birthdays, terrible gifts and general shenanigans.

Soon enough the cake was in the oven, and the topping was simmering on the stove, and all that was left was the clean up. The worst part of baking by far.

He felt Julie looking at him, and he glanced up to meet her eyes. A soft smile turned into a smirk and they reached for the spoon at the same time. He grabbed it first, but she surprised him by closing her hand over his, lifting it and the spoon and smearing batter across his cheek.

“It’s on now, Molina,” he threatened playfully. He swiped his finger through the bowl, and booped her nose, covering it in batter in retaliation. Their cake batter battle resulted in both of them covered in it, and the kitchen an even bigger mess.

The unrestrained laughter, and Julie’s beautiful smile were more than worth it. She helped him clean up, washing dishes with her side pressed firmly against his. For a few brief moments, everything felt perfect.

She pulled him into a gentle hug before going to a meeting and Luke headed towards the gym. He could get a couple of sets in before Reggie showed. He loved him dearly, but he was always late.

When he arrived, Alex was already there, pretending to work out on the treadmill. Luke pointedly ignored his suspicious gaze even as it made his skin itch. Sudden changes were difficult for his friend and he didn’t want to push him. It’s not personal. He’s always been anxious. The more times he told himself that lie, the less he believed it. He made Alex uncomfortable. He stretched, and started a short circuit workout.

He’d completed the circuit twice when Reggie rushed in. “Sorry I’m late. I thought maybe we could use knives today.”

A harsh cough from the other side of the room had Luke replying “I’ll pass, but you should use one. It’s good to practice with an armed opponent.”

Reggie nodded agreeably. “I’m ready if you are,”

They started out simple, warming up muscle groups and practicing basics. Julie joined Alex, who was now just intensely observing.

Reggie was struggling to focus and they definitely should not have been sparring with a knife. Distracted, he nearly stabbed Luke in the stomach. Unthinkingly Luke let himself phase out and the blade passed through harmlessly.

For a beat no one moved, then Reggie’s face collapsed into guilt, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I could’ve really hurt you.”

Luke forced an easy smile, “I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m fine. But I think we’re done with weapons today.”

Reggie nodded carefully, clearly waiting for some other reaction. It came immediately.

“What the hell was that?” Alex demanded, striding towards them.

Luke turned towards him in confusion. Dread pooled in his stomach.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Julie asked, eyebrows creased in worry.

He opened his mouth to reassure her, but was cut off.

“You can phase? Can you do the poofing thing?” Alex was squaring up for an argument.

Luke nodded. The sick feeling was spreading from his gut into his chest.

“Oh, and now you stop talking too. I thought they had a solution,” frustration and hurt colored Alex’s voice.

“To stop the flickering, so my cellular structure doesn’t degrade. The rest is permanent,” he forced his tone to stay even.

”You didn’t feel the need to tell us? How are we supposed to trust you if you are going to hide things like this?” Alex’s expression closed off.

“That’s not fair. I wasn’t hiding it, you assumed,” he countered desperately.

“You let us, and we both know that,” Alex snapped coldly.

“I honestly thought you knew. I wanted you guys to be comfortable,” he was pleading now.

“Comfortable, right, as if it’s that simple. You were Caleb’s pet nightmare for over a year. Don’t forget that I saw you in the field, I know exactly what you are capable of. After Julie found you, you were incapable of making your own decisions. You wouldn’t even eat unless someone told you to but then miraculously you wake up as yourself again? Totally believable,” bitter anger leaked through Alex’s voice.

“So what, you think this is some elaborate scheme with Caleb? That I’m secretly here to kill all of you?” Luke knew better than to rise to the bait, but the combination of fear, pain and anger swirling in his gut made it impossible to resist. First they wouldn’t talk about it, now they were going to use it against him.

“I don’t know what this is, because I don’t know what you are. You’re not even human anymore.”

Luke was too stunned to formulate a reply.

“Guys, this isn’t helping anyone.” Reggie broke in, voice shaking. He always hated it when they fought.

Shock melting into a deep hurt, Luke took a slow breath and popped to the music room, grabbing his electric. He needed to be alone and they’d never look here. His friends still thought he couldn’t play. At first he was excited to tell them that he could, but a feeling of unease had stilled his tongue. Now he was glad he’d decided to wait. It gave him a safe place to be himself and try to work through his emotions. Emotions everyone believed he didn’t have anymore- or that he wasn’t allowed to have. Fuck he was so tired of being looked at like some kind of monster. Hell, Alex had essentially just called him one. The worst part is that he wasn’t even surprised. He flipped through his notebook until he found an empty page, and let words flow.

He played until his fingers bled, until his grumbling stomach and shaky hands pulled him out of his spiral. He checked his phone. No calls or messages, but it was much later than he thought. He’d definitely missed dinner, but the fridge had to have some kind of leftovers.

“I thought you might have run off, you missed the big party,” Bobby drawled.

Shit. Alex’s birthday dinner.

“Nah, I just needed some time to myself. Process some things.”

Bobby shook his head and chuckled darkly. “I’ll bet. Everyone seemed pretty tense. Never thought I’d say this, but I think they preferred you the way you were when Julie found you.”

Luke glanced at him sharply.

“Sure, they kept complaining about wanting the real you back, but you were a lot easier to handle when you followed Julie around like a lost puppy.”

He rolled his eyes, and huffed a bitter laugh, but the painful seed of doubt knotted in his heart grew.

“They left you a plate. It’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.” Bobby said gently, studying him for a moment before rolling away.

The plate of leftovers wasn’t the only thing in the fridge. The German Chocolate cake he’d made for Alex sat there, untouched. He cut himself a small piece and threw the rest of it away, allowing himself the petty action.

The next morning everyone acted as though nothing had happened. “Where were you last night? You missed Alex’s birthday dinner.” Julie asked.

Yeah and you let me, the growing doubt whispered. “I just needed some time to think, so much has changed.” Luke answered mildly.

“You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?” She looked worried.

“Of course.” He smiled, even as the lie burned. No one called him on it. The seed bloomed into thorns.

#there is a reason for this #i swear #but i chose violence and i'm sorry #everyone is having a very hard time but it WILL get better #these disaster adults need to learn to communicate #winter soldier au #jatp #mere pretends to write sometimes

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advernia · 4 years ago

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What do you think would happen if Alice had fallen into Cradle with her child? I’m particularly curious about Sirius and Luka OwO

in general i’d say the presence of the mother-child combination in cradle would (rather, should) raise the tension higher because two people from the land of reason = two people who can repel magic, yeehaw. i think that gives the magic tower more incentive to be aggressive point blank bc 1) two magic repellers = greater chances of world domination plans being thwarted, 2) on the other hand they will make excellent test subjects, 3) them being blood-related + different ages (and possibly genders) opens more avenues for varied forms of experimentation, and 4) more ways to enter the land of reason, hella rad.

there’s probably more but morbid thoughts aside... here’s some general scenarios!

sirius:

he grew up having lotsa siblings + if you count the black army as the whole he’s raised a lot of brats lmao, so alice having a kid doesn’t faze him the slightest!

in the prologue where ray ends up catching alice, sirius ends up catching her kid instead. thinks the kid’s five years old or something. sirius is about to ask the child some basic questions, but the kid suddenly points to a running blanc so whoops. before the strange pair go rushing after blanc, kid says a thank you, mister! and that earns immediate brownie points because the! kid! called! me! mister! and sirius proceeds to make that veeeery clear to ray lol. maybe to fenrir and seth too, later.

so after all the prologue drama, alice & the kid formally introduce themselves as mother & child to the black army. there’s a few murmurs of reallys and awwws because tbh alice looked rather young to be a mother but oh well. it doesn’t change sirius’ welcoming and accommodating approach, though he keeps more tabs on the child because honestly...

a young child in the barracks... where there’s a stocked armory + shiny magic crystals... ridiculous brats - ehem, grown men prone to showing off + creating trouble... yeah. though it’s really not a hassle on sirius’ part to somewhat act like a babysitter, he gets to suffer being teased about nonsense like paternal instincts coming to life in full force lol!

though seriously speaking, he’s very careful not to ask / bring up the biggest subject of them all: alice’s husband (if there’s even one to speak of, ooh). on the kiddo’s side of course, it’s already hard enough that someone so young suddenly ends up in a strange place + gets their mother and themselves threatened by a whole goddamn army (sirius, to lancelot: i stg what are u doing???) + has to live out a whole month in a new environment all of a sudden, so he believes the least that he & the black army can do is keep the child comfortable enough so that the feeling of fear would be lessened, get a sense of comfort going on. sirius definitely can’t blame the kiddo if they start crying out for their father/home though - though he knows it’s not his fault + can’t do anything much, he’ll feel bad about the fact that he can’t do much for the child’s homesickness.

he’s not going to broach the topic on alice either - if alice wanted to talk, then he’d do his best to listen. if she didn’t then he wouldn’t dare ask, it’s a very personal topic after all. who was he to pry into her personal matters when she + her child would be leaving in a month???

so picture this: he did say he’ll help watching over the kid, but there’s not much to do bc her child is good enough. what a little angel, polite and curious and quiet. maybe a little too quiet, withdrawn??? hmmm. either way, the child didn’t seem too (pro)active. or was playful the term sirius was looking for?

like sure, there’s the loud laughs for stupid antics, answers when talked to, smiles and walks around the barracks on their own but... more often than not, the child keeps close to alice or is just around her general line of sight. separation anxiety, maybe??? that’s natural, so okay. or maybe it’s alice who’s always hovering around her child??? either way, there’s nothing odd about that, but upon longer observation...

the kid is just... really responsible / really loves their mom??? alice watering the plants??? quickly looks for another watering can / gets a bucket of water to refill the can with. general cleaning or laundry??? puts a hold on whatever they were doing, rolls up sleeves, gets ready to do some work. prep work for dinner??? peeling’s a bit wonky, but they’re doing their best while trying not to cut themselves...

this strikes off as a bit funny to sirius, because wow, they really are related. where alice is quick to offer her help on all sorts of tasks in the barracks, her child is just a step behind her, little hands willing to do some work. on some tasks, alice does tell her kid that she’ll be alright doing it on her own, but her kid insists doing it alongside her anyway. and that there, that’s a very alice thing to do, too. sirius - heck, maybe the black army would know that by now as well, lol, considering how alice flutters around the barracks looking for something to do if she’s not having some alone time + private time with her child.

though, as much as the help was appreciated... it doesn’t sit well with sirius that the mother & child are spending most of their hours working rather than enjoying themselves in cradle. he thinks it’s a shame, especially for the kid. back when sirius was younger, he would...... then he’d go to....... and then sometimes he’d.............

.... right. if the guests wouldn’t relax themselves, then sirius would take it upon himself to show them a good time. it doesn’t have to be through big events, it doesn’t have to be everyday, it doesn’t need to be through fancy or expensive gifts either...... if only just to see both of them smile more often, then it’s definitely worth the time thinking about.

more bonus points if he’d get to see alice’s kid start acting like... well, a child! while there’s nothing wrong with being responsible or wanting to help, a kid should definitely experience all sorts of things, explore what they can, and most of all, enjoy themselves.

that’s what it means to be young, and alice should do the same as well... being in cradle is their adventure, after all! they’re not completely unrelated to the war but..... if anything else, sirius wants to fulfill the black army’s promise of precting them until the full moon comes around, and when that day comes.... he hopes the two have made a ton of good memories of their stay in cradle.

......... funny that this guy’s thinking about how make the two relax when he can’t even stop and do that for himself lmaooooo

luka:

lol he starts off the same as he’s always been in most routes: shying away + nothing much to say to the parent/child combo now suddenly under their wing.

though, he does keep watch of their eating habits on the first days of their stay: alice eats anything + everything so that’s a relief, she’s adjusting. now if only he can say the same for her child....

imagine alice’s kid still being uncomfortable & cranky a few days in cradle + black army company, refuses to eat much even though his mom’s urging him to. breaks into a tantrum one day, saying that i wanna eat mama’s cooking instead! or something similar for everyone in the dining room to hear before storming out. ooh. there’s a brief silence - most stares land on luka, who isn’t really offended.

..... well, okay, so maybe it did sting a little bit. alice apologizes to luka before going away to calm her kid down. fenrir + ray tell him not to worry about it, seth + sirius muse about the kid feeling all homesick / sensitive. cue other soldiers saying something about puberty (whut lol). or y’know, kids being kids.

luka tries thinking about the kid’s situation for a bit. away from home, living in a whole new environment, surrounded by a whole lot of other people with attitudes and faces way different from those around at home... huh. that kinda sounds like himself in a way, except that the away from home bit on luka’s part was a voluntary choice.

having realized that, luka has a better guess of what the kid might be feeling. overwhelmed, definitely. from a very hostile welcome with handcuffs + the red army carrying the threat of death, suddenly being surrounded by the kindness of the black army is a total 360. must feel unreal, suspicious, even. the sight of real weapons around, the existence of magic and all that, unknowingly having a power so strong the whole country fears it. sounds like too much too process for a child.

..... alright, but looking at alice’s kid being unfriendly + clingy to alice 24/7 + being such a crybaby also reminds luka of... uh, himself, when he was younger. not to his own mother, but to... well, jonah, ugh. it’s not an easy pill to swallow (it takes grudging acceptance), but at least luka gets to know why he always felt some pang of irritation looking at the child.

so the next time the kid starts crying over something/causes trouble for alice, luka surprises everyone in the room by taking the initiative to scold the kid for acting so selfish. tough call, by the way - the child is wow, stubborn as hell + likes to keep the waterworks going while screaming; luka’s got a pretty good idea of what he wants to say but is having trouble getting it across properly and in a less menancing manner, so in short its a mess. witnesses ray blackwell + fenrir godspeed find the whole scene sorta funny though, much support lol.

alice wants to cut in, but sirius + seth tell her to leave it to luka, who seems to be winning since her kid’s running out of energy from crying & shouting at the same time. luka seems to be calming down too, because his tone + volume + facial expression is getting less stern. this seemed like a good time to mosey out of the scene so sirius ushers the audience to go away lmao, even the worried mother (who, decides to eavesdrop instead. no one has the heart to pull her away... so they hover around the doorway with her too.)

not arguing with luka anymore, the upset kid starts to babble of nightmares about the scary men in red with their sharp swords, not wanting to sleep because maybe when they close their eyes mama might suddenly be gone and they’re all alone, the scary feeling of losing mama to strangers, and the list goes on and on. its a collection of fears + worries of a child, and luka’s patient enough to listen. in fact, he smiles wryly when there’s mentions of monsters under the bed: it’s embarrasing, but luka used to cry over that too.

... seeing the kid bawl their eyes out like this, luka really is reminded of his younger self. the clinginess, sudden outbursts, the fear of maybe one day, they’ll be left behind and will be all alone. luka might be speculating the kid’s feelings, but more than anyone else, luka would be the closest one who could relate to what the kid was going through because.......... he acted that way towards jonah, back when they were younger.

he wonders if they’ve mentioned any of this to alice, even if just the smallest of their fears. he wonders how long they’ve been bothered over those fears, if they’ve been sleeping well at night. with all those questions in his mind, luka’s not so sure what to say; how to comfort the child.

he still tries though, even if his words come out a bit clumsy, even if the kid’s still sniffling all the way through the process. it’s a quiet moment, one that lasts till the child has cried themselves to sleep. they just stay that way for awhile, the kid resting their head on luka’s arm, until luka decides to carry the child back to their room........ alice must be worried.

..... she is, actually. when she and luka talk, she keeps quiet of her eavesdropping. luka doesn’t tell her everything either, because he believed that some of the things they talked about are better said by the kid themselves rather than him relaying the message to alice.

there’s nothing much to say after that, so luka goes on his way. alice says a very sincere thank you before he goes. she... has a lot of other things to say other than just that, but.... maybe another time. maybe when she’s plucked up the courage.

anyway, after all that alice’s kid seems to have gotten off their... spoiled phase, lol. still a little clingy to alice, but is getting less prickly + talking to others now. most notable development though, is if the child isn’t around their mother......... they could be seen hanging around luka.

.......... cue comments on how heartwarming it is to see a young child tottering around luka like a little duckling. luka does not appreciate the teasing. especially when it comes from seth + fenrir because why are their grins so big??????? but he doesn’t say anything against the kid following him around lol.

#askdfghjl #ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #sirius oswald #luka clemence #... honestly if alice had her child with her the first thing i thought was....#family apPROVAL FIRST IKEMANS no route progression for u if there's none lol #lmaooo earn them kid brownie points before getting to the final boss bruhs

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thefinalcinderella · 5 years ago

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 1 - The Residents of Chikusei-sou (Part 4)

It’s out

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Shindou is the reading for 神童 (prodigy) as well as 震動 (tremor, vibration)

2. 鯖 is the character for mackerel, with the fish radical on the left

3. Jizo or Kshitigarbha is a bodhisattva who is the guardian of children

4. Backchanelling means “ a sound or gesture made to give continuity to a conversation by a person who is listening to another.” The Japanese word is aizuchi which I couldn’t find a good way to explain in the text

5. Banchou Sarayashiki is a ghost story with several versions, all of which involve a servant, 10 dishes, and broken trust. I think the version referred to in this chapter is the folk version where a beautiful servant is blamed and killed for breaking one of ten dishes, and came back as a ghost counting the dishes

6. King says 住人が十人 (juunin ga juunin)

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Musa Kamara parted with Kiyose at Chikusei-sou's entryway and climbed the stairs to the second floor to return to his room.

When he had just arrived here last spring, he had been terribly anxious about living in a wooden house, and he had been nervous walking in the hallway. In his hometown, the house where his family lived was a colonial Western style house made of stone. He couldn't imagine things like thin walls that allowed you to hear people talking from next door or narrow hallways that made even passing by someone difficult.

But now, Musa loved the building Chikusei-sou itself, and its residents who were in the same generation as him.

Musa thought about Kakeru, who he was introduced to in the bathroom of the main house. He hoped he would able to get along well with Kakeru. Musa recalled his quick and nimble movements, like he did some kind of sport, and how he looked at Musa with a slightly bewildered look, and his determined eyes. No doubt, Musa thought, no doubt Kakeru will also fit in here quickly.

The door to Room 202, which was in the middle of the three rooms on the left side of the hallway and just before Musa's room, was slightly open. He passed by and peeked inside. The resident of this room was Sakaguchi Youhei, a fourth-year sociology student, and the one who lived in Room 205, which faced Musa's room, was Sugiyama Takashi, a third-year business student. They were watching TV together.

"Good evening."

Musa greeted them because he felt like talking to someone. The two in the room turned around. "Oh, come in," they carefreely urged.

He was served with a can of beer with water droplets on it, and he sat in seiza on the tatami.

"King-san, are you watching quiz shows again?"

Looking at the celebrities pushing buzzer buttons in the cathode-ray tube, Musa was a little bit shocked. Sakaguchi of Room 202 had a pastime of watching all the quiz shows, even recording them. At Chikusei-sou, he was called King with some teasing. It had the meaning of "Quiz King."

"'Course I am."

As he said that, King violently hit the tissue box placed close at hand. And then, "The Baths of Caracalla!"

He shouted the answer to the question at the TV in a loud voice. The tissue box was his substitute for a buzzer.

"I never get bored when I watch a quiz show with King-san."

Sugiyama laughed, encouraging Musa to drink bear with his hand. "He makes incredible reactions."

Sugiyama's nickname was "Shindou." At first, Musa felt suspicious as to why this person with such a quiet way of speaking was called "Tremor." (1) Shindou had immediately told him, "You're mistaken."

"I was born in a village deep in the mountains. It takes two days for me to make my homecoming. Oh, do you know 'homecoming'?"

"Yes, I do. But does it really take you two days? Even when I go back to my home country, it takes about a day to fly from Japan to there."

"Oof, so I come from a place that's farther than your hometown timewise? I'm seeing how deep in the hinterlands my village is once again. Oh, you know what 'hinterlands' mean?"

"I do not know that. Does it mean rural?"

"Yes, exactly. In that village, I'm called 'Shindou.' Well, just a local one, anyways. Oh, 'shindou' has the meaning of 'child of the gods'…"

The residents of Chikusei-sou mostly spoke to Musa in rapid slang without any consideration for him. In the first place, Musa had an intermediate or higher level of Japanese proficiency, but he was at a loss with slang. Only Shindou carefully explained the slang he didn't know and the difficult words for him. Thanks to him, Musa had come to be able to speak Japanese more and more comfortably. Even so, since he was following the example of the well-mannered and gentlemanly Shindou, he tried to avoid using the slang he learned as much as possible. Nico-chan, who lived on the first floor, sometimes laughed that "I can't feel on edge with Musa's language."

While drinking beer, Musa watched the quiz show for a while.

Only King, the twins, and Nico-chan had TVs in Chikusei-sou. Because the smoke pollution in Nico-chan's room is awful, they rarely approached there. King watched quiz shows endlessly. That was why when there was a show they wanted to watch, they generally went to the twins' room.

Even now, they could hear the sounds of the TV from the twins' room, but no sounds of talking. Apparently, they were spend in the night quietly with just the twins without being disturbed by the noisy senpais.

Without getting bored, King continued to hit the tissue box and answer questions from outside the cathode-ray tube. And then as soon as it turned to commercial, he fast forwarded through it with the remote control on hand. Is this a video? Musa noticed for the first time.

The commercials quickly flew past, and then the show came back on again. This time, it wasn't a corner with a quick buzzer format. King finally averted his consciousness a little bit away from the TV.

"Hey, Musa. Shindou is keeping quiet and watching the quiz show. It's unbelievable."

Unsure of what he was saying, Musa tilted his head. King turned all the way around to face Musa and Shindou, who were sitting next to each other.

"When you're watching a quiz show, wanting to answer the questions is human nature. It's like, 'Writing 青 with the left fish radical becomes…?' 'Mackerel!' (2) And yet he's keeping quiet. There's no competition here."

"King-san, you shout out the answers even when you're watching by yourself."

Musa said, as he thought about hearing King shouting out contextless words night after night from the room next door.

"Of course I do. That's what quiz shows are for. I really don't get guys who just watch stiffly like Jizo." (3)

Is that so, Musa thought.

"Is that so?"

Shindou said aloud, objecting. "I think it is you who's in the minority, King-san. I have no idea how you can get so fired up when you aren't even a contestant."

"Why don't you try apply for the program as a contestant?" Musa interjected.

King visited quiz websites on the Internet and enthusiastically tackled quiz questions everyday. He was so devoted to quizzes that he even stepped into the smoke hell that everyone was afraid of to borrow Nico-chan's computer. Surrounding him from a distance, the residents of Chikusei-sou watched over his passion for taking quizzes.

"Answering questions faster, more accurately, and more than the famous quiz kings from outside the screen is the way of enjoyment for true connoisseurs."

King puffed up with pride. King seemed bold and shameless, but he actually had social anxiety, so he couldn't appear on television or anything like that. Musa, who became aware of that, didn't say anything more. Shindou also gently backchanneled with "Is that so." (4)

King seemed a bit awkward, so Musa decided to provide a new topic.

"Do you two already know that a new person has come to Aotake?"

"When did they get here?!"

"What kind of person are they?"

The two instantly bent their bodies forward. King even lowered the TV volume. It seemed that it was quite an interesting topic for him and Shindou. Musa was pushed by the momentum and told them about meeting Kakeru in the bath.

"I believe he just arrived tonight. Haiji-san says he's enrolled in the sociology program. Haiji-san seemed happy."

"I have a bad feeling about this," King muttered.

"Why is that? Kakeru seems like a serious and good person."

"The character of the newcomer is not what King-san is worried about," Shindou explained. "You know about it too, right, Musa? About how Haiji-san is eager to have Room 103 filled."

"Yes, but what about that?"

"That's the point." King put an elbow on his crossed legs and affectedly stroked his chin with his palm. "Musa, you must also have kept hearing it since spring. Haiji muttering 'Just one more, just one more…' like 'Banchou Sarayashiki.'" (5)

"What is a Ban-chou Sara-ya-shiki?"

"That's a—"

Cutting off Shindou before he could tell him, King came to a conclusion.

"There's definitely something going on. Haiji is plotting something."

"Why is it so important to him that ten people live in Aotake?"

Shindou tilted his head, thinking. King solemnly began his deduction.

"This is my fourth year living here, but ten tenants…that just now wasn't a pun." (6)

"I understand. Continue."

"There has never been ten people living here. That's because there are only nine rooms here."

"That's right."

"However, this year is different. It was decided that the twins will have Room 201. And then, Haiji started chanting like a phantom. 'Just one more.'"

"It's true that Haiji-san seemed fixated on ten people."

Musa also nodded. Kiyose would probably be dispassionate and not show much emotion no matter what turmoil occurred in Chikusei-sou. However, this year, it could be seen almost too easily that he was worrying over whether or not there would be a tenant in the vacant Room 103. Musa had also wondered what was that about, and thought it was strange.

"What exactly is going to happen when there are ten people?"

"No idea."

Despite the conversation he started, he threw his suspicions away quite easily. "Maybe a ghost counting plates will show up."

"You were the one who kept going on about how 'there must be something, there must be something,' so how about thinking about it a bit more?"

Shindou complained at King, who had pulled out of the conversation and was once again absorbed in the TV. However, King was already preoccupied with the quizzes and only returning vague responses. Musa and Shindou discussed Kiyose's intentions for a while, but unable to come to a definite conclusion before very long and ended it.

Room 202 fell into silence for a short while.

Even the TV was waiting for the answer of the quiz contestant with an exaggerated pause. King murmured, "At any rate, if it's the case that something bad happens to us, Haiji will let us know. He's naggy and makes snide comments when you skip cleaning the toilets, but well, other than that, he's a good guy."

That's exactly right, Musa thought. It was impossible that Kiyose would do anything that trap the residents of Chikusei-sou into a difficult situation.

Musa did not have a "bad premonition." That was because the Kiyose he met just earlier seemed quite happy. About as happy as when Musa saw snow piling up for the first time in his life last year.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations

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everythingoesnk · 5 years ago

Text

Once in Rockfield Farm (3/5)

summary; 🤡🔫

word count; 4 970

disclaimers; this is my least fave chapter don’t ask me why. tell me what u think please i’m so conflicted !!

warnings; nopeee

part 1

part 2

********

By the ridiculous number of plaques of the albums' sellings and accomplishments hanging along the corridors, it was quite obvious that EMI moved a lot of money.

With your middle finger, you went over the edge of one of the paintings. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on it.

The boys’ manager and lawyer invited you to wait for them outside.

Roger’d already warned you that they wouldn’t allow you to be present. Not that you cared or wanted to. But at some point you were growing tired of sitting alone doing absolutely nothing.

Once they abandoned the office after what seemed an endless time, you immediately hauled yourself to your feet.

“You’ll kiss the floor we step on as soon as we introduce you to A Night at the Opera, my dear," Freddie told Foster as he left the room.

Ray followed the grandiose Freddie with his eyes, a bit of mistrust in his face.

"I very much hope so" he answered before closing the door.

"It went well?" you asked to no one in particular, holding your purse against your tummy.

"We think so" Brian murmured.

"He doesn't believe we're going to present him the best album in history," Freddie bragged confidently as if it were definite that they were going to do so.

"Will you? Create the best album in history?" you smirked.

"Yep," John replied with all the sincerity in the world, leading the way to the elevator.

Roger stood beside you as the group left the building behind, and pulled a pack of ciggies out his pocket. In record time, he brought one urgently to his lips.

"You don’t think we can?" he inquired you, aiming the other way before blowing the smoke out.

You extended your hand and he understood the message.

Before shoving the package back, he took out another one, and with the cig hanging immobile in your mouth, Roger lit it for you.

At that exact moment, while he was concentrated on the task, you realized how long and thick his lashes were.

"I haven’t said such thing"

"Lovebirds, when you’re done with whatever it is you have to do, come to Mary's”

Roger nodded at Freddie’s words.

Posterior to waving the other three goodbye, you glanced at him with a puzzled expression.

"Right. This way"

"What are we doing?"

"Do you always have to ask questions?"

"And do you always have the habit of not answering when being asked?" you objected.

"When we get there you'll know it"

"You’re impossible" you groaned, and quickened your pace.

He took a new puff on the cigarette and looked at you jubilantly, pushing his tongue into his cheek, enjoying your harmless tantrum a little too much.

If only you knew how much he loved these domestic moments with you.

"Not that much, believe me"

In what sense is that addressed, even?

Although you didn’t speak much because Roger was intent on not getting lost, obediently following the instructions Clare had patiently listed him the night before, from time to time you exchanged a word to fill the silence.

You really appreciated the stroll. The last couple of weeks it’d been home-uni-home-uni-home-uni. You’d missed the active streets of London, the continuous loop of the loud noises and the accent.

"I think we’ve got to turn to the right"

He didn’t seem completely sure of his own words, and because of how fast his eyes moved from side to side, you knew he was struggling.

Eventually, he managed to ubicate himself.

"We have to cross the park and technically we’ll be able to see it"

"You'll see it, you mean. I don’t know what there is to see"

Roger rolled his eyes and put his hand on your lower back to guide you.

Checked first if it was okay to go ahead, and ignoring that the light was red, you passed the zebra crossing together.

Bringing you back to an old memory, it made you recall how several weeks ago you witnessed the boyfriend of a classmate of yours do the same with her with hectic traffic when they were late for their class. Nevertheless, it was also something a father could do with his daughter.

Why were you spinning around the matter? Nonsense.

But it was cute that he kept you close while crossing the street, though. Had it been a reflex action or had he been fully aware of doing so?

The thread of your thoughts caused you to space out, and as a result you didn't notice until then that you were approaching the exit of the aforementioned park.

Your heart enlarged a couple of sizes when he nonchalantly slipped his hand out of your back to entangle his pinkie with yours.

The pulsations your heart kept on producing were hard, so hard they hurt. Persistent and quick like a hummingbird’s flap.

As lightly and subtle as he did, you slowly proceed to move your fingers and hold his hand in its entirety, both of you looking ahead as if looking at each other would turn out to be too much right now.

It all felt too intimate, hands being the only method you used to talk to one another during the remaining bit of the walk until the final destination.

Roger stopped walking, and you did too.

You fixed your eyes on the store window before them: there were two mannequins wearing sets that genuinely caught your attention. From where you were stood, the store seemed to be empty. Sign that it was expensive. The walls inside were painted with neat white, thin golden lines forming patterns on the walls. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, so large that you were surprised it stayed in place without falling off, dragging the roof along with it.

You looked suspiciously at Roger.

"What are we doing here?"

“See if you find out yourself. After you," suggested Roger, and as on the day you met, gesticulated you to go first.

A tune rang in the background announcing your arrival after you stepped right in. It made the employee’s head lift up. She left her position behind the cashier and walked towards you. Her outfit was all white with a golden headband, matching the drawings on the walls and the rest of the store.

When the three of you were together, you noticed that both of you wearing heels surpassed Roger by a few tiny inches. It didn’t seem to bother him, perhaps he didn’t even detect it.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

"Clare’s friend?" Roger asked.

"Oh, Roger and (Y/N), I’m guessing. Very well, come with me"

The girl marched away, Roger with her.

He turned around and stopped when he saw you hadn’t moved.

"Ay, what's all this?" you whispered, not wanting the woman to hear you as not to be impolite.

And who the hell was Clare?

Roger grinned.

"This is my surprise"

Head in a muddle, you let Roger lead you to a small room filled with clothing items where the saleswoman’d been waiting for you.

A tray of tea and freshly made biscuits filled the air with a nice scent of sweet and salty.

"Our firm is not particularly well known for its catalogue of dresses, we rather excel at accessories such as handbags and glasses. Either way, I hope you find one you like. Anything you need, call me"

In the blink of an eye she was gone.

"Roger, care to explain?" you asked after a pause, looking around.

"Yesterday you mentioned you didn't have your graduation dress. I know your father's behaviour saddened you, I thought this would cheer you up"

"Shopping? Don’t tell me that, Roger. I didn’t take you for a sexist"

He looked like if you just hit him across the face.

"No... I never... I didn’t mean... I just wanted to have a nice touch, to buy it to thank you for—"

"I'm messing with you. Of course I don't think you're a sexist. I know very well you did it with the best of— What did you say? Buy it?"

Wide-eyed, you were shaking your head no.

"Yes. Buy it"

"Why would you do that?"

"To thank you for your hospitality"

Also because Roger simply wanted to give you the world, but since it's something that takes time, he decided this was a way to start. But he meant what he said: adopting four crazy and weird children for months… no one in their goddamn right mind would have agreed to that.

The first couple of following days after their arrival, having very little confidence around any of them, you didn’t really hang out together. Still and all, after some time but soon enough, you learnt that the four of them were warmhearted, fun and loving people.

"I know how hard you’re working to earn that diploma. We’re proud of you"

"Roger, you already pay me a rent. And I know you are, but it’s not necessary. You don’t have to do this, I can pay for it myself” you said too quickly.

“I know you can” he shrugged, letting you know he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Because of the look he was giving you, all defensive, you knew he already made the decision.

Arguing was only going to make you lose a valuable amount of time you could invest in killing the curiosity raised by the outstanding dresses displayed out front.

Following Roger's orders to take a good look at them, you picked three that you thought were pretty and elegant. One was black and the other two different shades of blue.

When you glanced up at Roger to tell him you were done choosing, he was no longer on the small sofa near the fitting room devouring the biscuits like the last time you saw him.

A one-sided grin lifted the corner of your mouth when you spotted him snooping on the other side of the room, rummaging through the dresses as well to be occupied. By his expression of absolute concentration it seemed that he was really putting effort and interest in the mission beforehand.

He turned around unexpectedly and smiled delightedly at you.

Every time he did smile like that, you could feel your soul leaving your body.

From time to time you had these intermissions where the world around you gradually began to slow down, Roger Taylor as your only source of light.

It was one of those.

"I have these," you said shyly after some time of you two staring at each other. "Have you found any I could try on?"

“Not really”

Seventeen minutes since you entered the dressing room. Roger was bored.

“Can I see?”

“No. The black one’s so ugly on me” you roared, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You’re not being objective. Let me see”

“No”

“You look gorgeous”

You quickly turned on your heels, ready to hit him in the head for not listening, but he was nowhere to be seen. How the hell…?

“How can you tell?”

“I just know”

You laughed it off, blushing.

“So cheesy”

“But you’re smiling”

“Roger! Are you seeing me?” you asked, staring intently at every part of the curtain to see if maybe there was a tiny hole in it where he’d been peeking at you.

“No, but I can hear it in your voice”

“Shut up” you giggled.

“Can I see now?”

“No, you can’t”

God.

You weren’t sure about this.

You weren’t sure about this at all.

Roger taking the credit card out of his wallet to pay for something that was not going to be his but yours made you all flustered and uncomfortably red as hell itself in the face.

You took his hand before he could pass it to the woman.

“(Y/N), stop” he chuckled and gave her the card anyway.

He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek so casually, like if said actions didn’t have consequences. Hello? Your heart combusting, perhaps?

“There you go,” the woman handed him the bag, “tell your sister I said hi”

“I will” Roger nodded.

“Your sister? Clare?”

"Uh-huh"

“Younger or older?”

“Younger”

"You didn't tell me you had a younger sister," you said as you two initiated your way to Mary's.

"You didn't ask. Aren't you gonna tell me which dress you've chosen?" he cocked an eyebrow at you. "I paid for it, I believe I have the right to—"

You wanted him to see it the day of the ceremony, to make it a surprise as well.

"Please don't remind me you bought it. It's embarrassing"

Roger snorted a chuckle.

“Oh my God, woman. You’re so worried about it”

"We've got to be frank here. Mary told me you guys are broke, because you had issues with… whoever in the past. And now you take me to an upper high-class store to buy me a dress. Don't take me wrong, but I just don’t get it”

“Don’t have to swear on it” he noted quietly to the last part.

You sure weren’t getting anything.

“We firmed a contract we shouldn’t have. Life goes on and we’re with Rheid now, about to launch a masterpiece that will change our lives forever. Every penny he’s given us is for the album, but I know it’s gonna pay off. Of the little I had left from before, I wanted to do this. It’s my money. I do whatever the fuck I want with my money”

You didn’t say anything, perplexed.

He wished you'd understand the real reason why he wanted to make you happy. To cover your whims. To take care of you.

“So,” you spoke after a while, breaking the ice, “A Night at the Opera”

“Freddie’s suggestion. Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s weird, but it sounds like Queen”

He grinned.

Freddie said that enough was enough, that they deserved to disconnect from work for the group’s sanity.

They were getting ready at Mary’s to head to the nearest pub –putting it in his words— to dance until their feet bled and hopefully drink like psychopaths. He dictated how disappointed he’d be in them if they didn’t wake up naked and hangover in the middle of nowhere.

He was now in the bathroom applying black eyeliner to John.

“Can we come?”

Mary and you opted for a chill sleepover at first, but you changed your mind and managed to persuade her to go out as well, telling her you couldn’t remember the last time you went partying together.

Brian and John didn’t speak up, expecting Roger to do. When you saw that neither of them were saying a word, you turned your gaze towards him. He was wearing a seemingly chill unbothered facade, pushing aside how your request had tickled his stomach.

"Sure" Roger replied, mouth curving into a perfect smile.

Mary told you you could choose whatever you wanted from her closet in case you wanted to change to a more appropriate outfit for the occasion.

The two of you hurried upstairs.

It was evident that once you were there you were gonna dance all freaking night, so you picked a pair of denim bell-bottoms to be comfortable, a basic top, and kept the pair of black heels you had on already. Then you ran to touch up a little the makeup you had previously put on in the morning, adding a bit of glitter to your cheekbones.

Listening to the front door open and Freddie screaming to get your fat asses down there, Mary rushed to put a sparkly belt on while both of you trotted down the stairs.

“We’re coming!” you shouted, jumping to skip the last three rungs.

Sliding the back of your hand across the forehead to remove the sweat, you took Mary by the arm and escorted her to the opposite end of the pub, fleeing from the group of girls who were screaming at you for having spilt drink on them by accident. Mary tried not to fall while you made your way through the congregation of people going against your flow.

You raised your arms and kept dancing carefreely, ignoring the looks of all kinds you received.

Mary knew she’d never be on the same level as you. Her knees were begging to stop, meanwhile you were as fresh as a rose. It didn’t seem like you’d been dancing for over two hours without a break.

The boys, even Freddie, had also thrown in the towel a while ago.

"(Y/N), I'm going with Freddie!" Mary shouted, grasping you by the shoulder.

"What about me?"

"Come, I’m not keen on leaving you on your own" with this said, she began to gently push you towards where the boys were.

You were careful not to stumble since the drinks you had consumed earlier were already coming into effect. The purple, yellow and blue lights that illuminated the area disorientated you, so without question you let Mary lead you.

"Mary, I've saved you a seat, darling" Freddie said, patting the empty space next to him.

You frowned when you saw there was no room left for you in the booth.

"Shit”

John laughed when he heard the disappointment in your drunken voice.

Roger didn’t stutter. He held your hand and sat you on his lap.

"I don’t like this posture. Your thigh will hurt you, y’know what I mean?" you slurred.

Yet your actions were contradictory, because you moved to squeeze against him, too exhausted all of a sudden.

"I'll handle it," he murmured, fighting the instincts that grew inside him to touch you everywhere.

Fiddling with your necklace, you looked at the people on the dance floor.

You’d been wasting your time with them, bizarrely enjoying being so proximate to Roger more.

Speaking of the devil, the bastard had unbuttoned his shirt at some point.

The top you wore had its back completely uncovered; as a result, your sticky skin collided with his. Not that you complained, in fact, the contact made you horny. Could it possibly be that you were just dreadfully drunk and that your five senses were way more sensitive than usual? And that it didn’t have anything to do with Roger?

You’d been secretly having lascivious dreams concerning him for a hot minute, but resigned to admire from a distance. So no, he absolutely was the one to blame.

Roger waved his glass of tequila, offering you some.

As you were already drunk from the shots you had with John as soon as you stepped in, when you threw your head back to swallow til the very last drop, a lot of the liquid dripped down the sides of your mouth, staining your top and wetting your neck.

You laughed, clearly too tipsy to be upset.

Roger watched you attentively.

Many inappropriate thoughts seized him as he saw the liquid running down your collarbone.

You deposited the glass back on the table.

“You won’t be dancing anymore?” Roger asked.

“Perhaps at another time. I like it here”

“I like it too” he replied, and added in a small voice the following request hoping you wouldn’t get to hear it through the music. “Don’t leave”

You listened without interest as Brian and Freddie exchanged opinions on whether they should or shouldn't add a guitar solo in an almost finished song. John looked at them as if it were a tennis match, throwing glances at Mary from time to time that she returned. They knew they had to act before they started an argument, so Mary proposed to go dance some more.

Freddie followed her, and you saw him complaining to her about Brian's last-minute changes. John gestured Brian for the two of them to leave the booth as well, pointing discreetly with his thumb back to Roger and you: Brian understood.

"They’ve abandoned us" you stated, staring at your friends walking away until they were no longer in sight.

Now it was you sitting on the leather sofa, with Roger tucked between your legs –clearly if he sat on your lap he wouldn’t even last five minutes because you wouldn’t put up with it any longer than that, so it wasn’t worth a try—.

You had your feet against the edge of the table, legs wide apart to make room for him. At first he wasn’t sure, but quickly changed his mind when your fingers slipped into his hair, lazily massaging his scalp.

The idea occurred when he proved your point, telling you to sit on his left thigh because the other was getting numb.

He was in a trance, and felt his eyelids heavier by every second, not because he was sleepy but because of the pleasure.

“Fuck” Roger muttered thoughtlessly with his eyes closed, catching you off guard.

A sudden increase in your heartbeat, now irregular, rattled you.

“Wh-what?”

Embarrassment crept up his face when you stopped.

“Sorry, I don’t know what was that, it just felt good and—“

Your core was throbbing. You were so confused but so pumped at the same time.

“You want me to continue?”

He turned his head and scanned your features. He definitely didn't expect that, thought you'd want him to get off you instantly.

The intense eye contact that followed earned you another electrifying whip that shook every corner of your body.

When Roger went back to his initial position, you smiled mischievously.

He had to keep biting back his moans throughout the entire thing.

The mixture of alcohol running at an unrestrained rhythm through your veins, including how dangerously turned on you were by Roger’s constant heavy breaths, pushed you to take a step further: you traced your finger along the curve of his jawline, painfully slow, and with the tip of your nose you drew patterns on his neck, observing hungrily his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard.

Roger looked up at the ceiling and attempted to count its tiles. Anything that'd distract him from having a boner, really.

"You good?" you teased with a smile, whispering near his ear.

"I wish I could answer honestly"

"Do it, I won’t judge"

He ran a hand through his golden hair, feeling really irritated that this was happening now, where he couldn’t rip your clothes off.

Saying he was having a hard time keeping it together doesn’t do justice to the reality of how much he had to retain himself.

"Say it" you insisted, intrigued.

In a hoarse whisper, pretty much thanks to the alcohol and the inebriety that your touch drowned him in, he grew the balls to actually say what was crossing his mind.

“I’ve never had the urge to taste a woman this bad”

You grinned, and that throbbing kept escalating.

“Oh, Rog. You couldn’t be any more subtle, could you?” you laughed, burying your hand one more time in the mess that his hair was, pulling it.

Literally, you couldn’t control yourself.

It’s his fault!, claimed a voice in your head. For being too fucking irresistible.

"Don't" he desperately groaned, taking your hand in his.

He sat straight.

“Why?”

Roger gave a small sexy laugh, and he turned to look at you in the eye, shoving the hair back of his face.

“Wanna hear me say it or feel it yourself instead?”

“(Y/N)”

A bad feeling that you did something terrible sunk in when you saw Mary towering over you, her mouth set in a line.

If yours'd been watering seconds ago because of Roger's cock being hard because of you, now it was as arid as the Sahara desert.

"I need a ‘you-know-what’," she said, the ‘you-know-what’ item usually being a tampon. This time it was only a petition for you to follow her quickly, “come with me”

Once inside a bathroom stall, she locked the door and sat on top of the toilet seat, crossing her arms and looking at you as if you were the biggest crackhead in the world.

"What the fuck was that? What were you thinking? What was all that about?" she argued.

"I don’t understand a word you’re saying"

"If I’d gotten there just ONE second later you’d be sucking him dry right now. Don’t play dumb with me, (Y/N)”

You leant your back against the door.

"Mary, cutie, this conversation’s stupid"

She put her hands on her hips. It made you giggle that she was so angry.

"I already explained to you what Roger is like. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll forget you and drool over the next one" she hissed matter-of-factly.

"Why are you acting like I’m in love with him or something? We’re adults having a good time. If there’s physical attraction, why shouldn’t we able to fuck?"

She winced, and focused on the first question only.

“You aren’t?”

You furrowed your brow. Okay, maybe the conversation was more serious than you thought. Alcohol slowing your brain down didn’t help the situation either.

“You’re being weird”

“And you’re being an asshole! Are you even listening to me? Roger’s a—“

“What?! What is he, Mary?! Enlighten me! And I do listen to you, always! Sure I remember me phoning you after that day I sang ‘All Too Well’ to him and you saying I shouldn’t get too close. But he’s been nothing but nice to me, M. He’s polite, funny, sweet… What the hell did he do to you?” you asked, staring at her with a look of incredulity, not recognizing the person in front of you.

“To me? What he did to endless women that once were in your place. He’s used them all and he’ll use you too”

When she pointed an accusing finger at your chest, where the heart is, you could feel yours dropping.

That you liked each other physically was undeniable, but what you didn’t know was that you cared about him so intensely. When and how did that happen?

It was true that out of Queen he was the one you talked to the most and the one you had the best time with, always joking and finding interesting subjects to talk about. Above everything else, he became a confidant. And it felt mutual up until now.

Had he been toying with you just to get in your pants?

“But… he helped me cope with my dad, and…”

“And what was he supposed to do?”

“And today…,” speaking was so hard. You were scared you’d choke clumsily with your own saliva, “today he bought me a dress. For my graduation”

Mary’s strong gaze changed, and she pulled herself to her feet. You swore something was eating her alive internally, but she was good at pretending she had it all together.

“Buying your love and attention. I saw it coming”

Mary let a calculated pause set between you two.

“You’re my best friend, (Y/N). I don’t enjoy doing this. I… I want to protect you”

She sighed and left when you didn’t open your mouth.

A couple of minutes later, you did too. Staring at yourself in the smudged mirror, you couldn’t tell whether you needed to go home or have twenty more drinks.

“Finally” you suddenly heard Roger say. He hugged you from behind right away, stopping you from literally rushing to John to tell him you wanted to leave. “I missed you, love”

Although you noticed your pulse rapidly accelerating, Mary's words seemed to be floating through your mind with a big neon sign with the word “alert” above them. She’d known Roger for a longer period of time than you did, and saw every lover appear and vanish whenever he found a new interest.

It just… You had to accept that one way or another, Roger was most likely to create damage.

“I want to go home, I’m wasted”

“Go home? We’re having a good time” he pulled you closer once again, his hands resting on your stomach.

He debated whether to bite your earlobe or not. One second later, he went for it.

You moaned. Loud. You wanted him to do it again.

“No, stop” you turned around and took two steps backwards, convincing you it was for the best.

He looked nothing but shattered.

“What’s the matter?”

“Forget what happened earlier. It was foolish”

Roger blinked too many times. He didn’t want to believe that you were being serious.

However, you looking everywhere but him was everything he needed to confirm you meant it.

Anger, exasperation and hurt clouded his face.

“So, we were this close” he began, his thumb and forefinger almost touching, “to make out about ten minutes ago, and now you want me to simply pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Well, I don’t want to ‘make out’ anymore, easy as that”

“I just can’t fucking wrap my head around it” he snapped.

It wasn’t about making out or not: he enjoyed your company and loved the way you made him feel when you were together. And he thought… you felt the same.

His heart was pounding so fast in his chest he thought he’d suffer a stroke.

You lapsed into silence, broken only by the one thing that made Roger understand why you were rejecting him.

“All girls swoon for you. Find another one to spend the night with, it won’t take you long, really. And please do forget about whatever happened between us in the booth”

It sounded way crueller than you wanted to. You wished you could take it back, but what's done cannot be undone.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything for a while.

Knuckles white and breathing uneven, Roger got closer and bent forward invading your personal space.

“Assuming I’m a womanizer, eh?” he replied coldly, jaw hard.

Curling up into a ball and crying never appealed to you that much before.

“Don’t worry. I will”

********

tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring

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bluespiderlilies · 5 years ago

Text

Reincarnation | Hashibira Inosuke

chapter: one / “boar boy.”

chapter: two / “check.”

chapter: three / “in the shadows.”

chapter: four / “endure.”

chapter: five / “in the clouds.”

chapter: six / “senses.”

❝a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.❞ ── chinese proverb

You hummed in satisfaction, cupping porcelain cup filled with the warm green tea in your hands as you watch the sun slowly reveal itself to the world; spreading her golden rays of light. Everything around her was bathed in crimson and the color of a blush, the clouds above decorated with a hint of sky blue and wisps of silver.

You sipped on your tea, the bittersweet taste dancing on your tongue before you swallowed, warming you up from the inside to protect you from the chilly morning breeze—which was especially strong today.

“Thanks for the tea, Grandmother Shiori.” You told her, placing your hand over hers, as she was sitting beside you while sipping on her own tea.

She smiled gently at you, eyes twinkling. “You know you don’t need to thank me, (Name). I think of you as one my own.”

“I know. But it’s a habit, after everything you’ve done for me and for the sake of my grandmother, Yumi.” You smiled back, placing your empty cup of tea back into the tray.

You brushed off your new haori—it was plain black with silver trimmings along the hem of your sleeves, along with a full moon with two crescent moons parallel to each other on the back, colored silver as well—and your Demon Slayer Corps uniform from any dust, adjusting the sheath of your katana the rested on the side of your hip.

Shiori watched you as you strapped your quiver onto your back, slinging the bow across your body as she fed some nuts to your crow, Kemuri.

“Alright, I should get going now,” You sighed, patting yourself to make sure you had all of your things on you. “Come on, Kemuri. Lead the way.”

Kemuri cawed in response, fluttering her wings before she hovered above you, flying east of the village.

“Good luck. Make it back safely.” Shiori said, voice laced with a hint of worry as she waved her hand at you.

You turned your head as you walked, a small smile forming on your lips as you waved back. You turned your head back to your crow, entering the forest as she guided you to the village that needed help.

∞

It was around noon.

You have been walking for quite a while now, only stopping twice to eat or to use the restroom. Kemuri, a couple times, said that you were almost there—

You got a feeling that she was just lying to encourage you.

“Kemuri,” You called out to her, taking out a strawberry from one of your pouches that held food, “eat this.”

You threw it towards her, which she caught with ease. She happily ate away, her flying now slowed down a bit.

However, what caught your attention was the faint sound of chatter in the distance—and lots of it. That, to you, meant that you had finally arrived at the village.

You sprinted towards the noise, the sight of houses, shops, and crowds of people meeting your vision. You smiled to yourself, increasing your speed.

“I’m finally here. What a walk.” You mumbled to yourself, entering the village. Your eyes scanned the place, taking each and every detail of the village—in case you needed it in the future.

What caught your eye, though, was the all-too-familiar sight of a boar head, shirtless man, and hakama with animal hide on it. He was seated at a restaurant, his boar head beside him, scarfing down his food.

You smiled, remembering the times you ate with him during the Final Selection—no matter who he was with or where he was, he would eat his food like that. It was probably in his nature.

You shook your head, making your way to the restaurant before you sat on a seat next to him. He didn’t notice you, however, as he was too busy with his tempura, takoyaki, and yakitori.

“Hello, Inosuke. Long time no see.” You greeted him after you made an order, placing your head on the palm of your hand.

“Hah?” He paused his eating, turning his head to look at you. He squinted, tilting his head before you spotted a hint of recognition in his emerald eyes. “Ration woman.”

A drop a sweat trickled down the side of your forehead, pursing your lips in an exasperated expression. “Ration woman? You remember me for that?”

“So what?” He growled, shoving some takoyaki in his mouth.

You winced at his messy eating, glancing over at Kemuri, who was currently perched on the sign of the restaurant.

She, like the crow she was, gave you a blank look.

“Nothing. It just means you have a shitty memory.” You shrugged, taking a takoyaki ball, which only fueled his anger.

He was about to yell at you when you shoved the takoyaki ball into his mouth, seemingly making him shut up and get distracted, once again, by food.

You had done that multiple times already—whenever you said something that set him off, you'd shove food in his mouth or distract him

So far, it always worked.

A small smirk made its way to your lips as you thanked the old man with the bow of your head as he set a bowl fresh, steaming ramen in front of you and some chopsticks beside it.

“So,” You started once again, as you waited for your ramen to cool down a bit. “Are you here on a mission?”

Inosuke’s emerald eyes shifted over to yours, eyes narrowed. “Hah? How the hell did you know? I don’t need any help.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you don’t decide. ‘Cause I’m here for the mission too. It’s the disappearing village.” You told him, voice dropping to a whisper that only Inosuke could hear.

“I don’t care. I’m going to beat you!” He declared proudly, chest puffing up with pride as he swallowed some of his tempura.

“Mhm, you do that.” You hummed, mixing your ramen with your chopsticks before you raised it up to your mouth and ate it.

As you and Inosuke ate in silence, you heard someone take a seat beside you. Curious, you shifted your head towards his direction slightly, enough to observe his features.

He was quite tall, even while sitting down, by a head. He wore a navy blue kosode under his navy blue haori, decorated with a white dragon pattern to contrast the color.

Your eyes trailed up to his face; admittedly, he was quite handsome. He had a cute, round face—messy, reddish-chestnut brown hair framing his face. He had large, almond shaped lime green eyes with a small beauty mark underneath his left eye.

He seemed about your age, if not older by one or two years at least.

He caught your eye, making you divert your attention quickly to your ramen, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

You felt your cheeks heat up, feeling his piercing gaze as you raised the chopsticks to your mouth, slowly chewing your ramen.

“Hello, miss.” He greeted with a sly grin, voice deep and silvery.

You swallowed, licking your lips nervously before you answered. “Um, hello.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you on the way back to my home. You and your friend there are Demon Slayers, no?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, curiosity shining in his lime green eyes.

You narrowed your eyes. “Yes. It’s clear from the uniform and weapons. Why do you ask?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No reason. It’s people like you that make our world a better place.”

You nodded slowly. Just what was he getting at, exactly?

“Yes. Thank you for the compliment, um…?”

“Shoji Akio. Please, call me Akio.” The said man, Akio, told you, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Thank you, Akio. I’m (L/N) (Name). The one beside me is Hashibira Inosuke.” You introduced, bowing your head slightly out of politeness. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. After all, you’re very pretty and it’s hard not to notice. S’why I came here.” He grinned, winking at you.

Your eyebrow twitched.

Man, you really hated guys like that. Frankly, this was the first time that it happened to you, but after witnessing it way too many times…

Men could be real shallow assholes.

You barely acknowledged what he said, instead slurping your ramen as a response to his irritating words.

He smirked. Were you getting shy?

“Would you…like to go on a date with me, maybe? You know, get to know each other.”

You slurped. After a moment of chewing your food and swallowing it, you looked at him.

Without any hesitation, you answered, “No.”

Akio blinked, almost falling out of his seat out of surprise. What? No girl has ever declined him—that wasn’t fair!

“Huh? Why not?” He asked, trying to keep his composure.

“I just don’t want to.”

“But, don’t you want information about the village?” Akio asked, pointing his chopsticks at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “Yes, I do.”

“Then I can tell you during our date.” He told you, shrugging non-nonchalantly as he began mixing his bowl’s contents with his chopsticks.

You snorted. Who did he think he was?

“You are so disgusting and conceited that it’s very sad and concerning. You think you have the right to blackmail or bribe me on going on a date with you, in exchange for information?” You let out a chuckle. “I can simply ask anyone. It’s not just you in this damn village, bastard. Grow up.”

You slammed some of your money onto the counter, sliding off the chair easily. “Come on, Inosuke. Let’s go.”

“Hah?! I’m not finished yet—”

“I’ll treat you to a large meal after our mission. On me.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle at the thought, a smug grin making its way on his lips as he put on his boar head. He proceeded to roughly grab your hand, leading you in a direction you weren’t so sure of. You were just glad that you got away from Akio.

The said male watched you and Inosuke, wide lime green eyes following your figure. He was just so, so...surprised and baffled by your words.

The restaurant owner shook his head and looked at Akio with pity in his aged brown eyes. “The young woman is right. She doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, the villagers would be willing to give her any information about the demons in our village.”

Akio sighed, his gaze shifting to the bowl of udon in front of him, head low.

He really felt shameful for what he did. For the first time ever.

You certainly taught him a lesson he didn’t know he needed.

∞

It was the evening, now.

The sun was in the west, slowly beginning to make its descent below the sky, decorating the horizon with rich colors and shades of red and orange. The clouds blushed a warm hue of a deep pink and orange, as if they were shy from the warm rays of the sun.

You bowed your head respectfully at the older woman, thanking her for the extra bits of information about what happens to the village. Narrowing your eyes at Inosuke to do the same, he merely ignored you as he crossed his arms, watching the older woman like a hawk.

Why was he so wary of her? She was a kind old lady, who even offered you two dinner for the hard work the two of you were doing.

“Come, Inosuke. We have to get to the place where they supposedly come out.” You prodded, gesturing with your head to a small field located at the end of the village.

“Stop telling me what to do! You’re not my boss!” Inosuke growled, clenching his fists.

He still followed you, though.

You rolled your eyes, deciding to give in to his charade to pump him up a bit.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m not the boss; you are.”

Steam came out of the nose of his boar mask as he puffed his chest with pride, cackling loudly.

“Yeah, I am! I’m your boss!” The volume of his cackles increased as he said so.

You silently chuckled out of amusement. He got all giddy and happy when praised, huh? It was almost cute.

Almost.

You sat down onto the grass, watching Inosuke absent-mindedly as he charged at trees head first, yelling his signature ‘pig assault.’

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought, mulling over the events so far today. You remembered that Grandma Shiori wanted to talk to you about your sword—and you weren’t so sure why. She has seen it before, right? You saw the way her eyes lit up in recognition…or did you read her wrong? Well, sometimes you did over analyze. Overthink. It was a bad habit.

What sort of pissed you off today, though, was the nerve of that boy—Shoji Akio, was it? Yeah, you didn’t like him.

Boys like him think they are all high and mighty just because they are good looking. Boys like him think they are a lady’s man, just because he could woo a couple girls. Because they thought he was handsome. Boys like him were nothing but trashy womanizers.

Looks didn’t matter, however. Inside, he was a large piece of shit.

You sighed.

Anyway, onto the information you had collected with Inosuke.

One: apparently, as soon as the sun would set, the entire perimeter of the village would shake before it descended into some sort of dark, misty place.

Two: When that would happen, multiple demons would come out, dragging unlucky victims out of their homes to eat them. So far, there has been seventeen victims. Seven women. Seven men. Three children.

Three: it started around two weeks ago. Nobody knew how the demons got to their village; since it was up high in a mountain, and there were some wisteria flowers on the path to the village. You deduced that the demons probably saw some alternative way to get to the village.

Four: finally, it was impossible to escape the village. As soon as you stepped in, you couldn’t get out; the moment your foot steps out of what they called the ‘village zone,’ you’d get sliced in half. You figured it was some sort of demon blood art.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, taking in a deep breath before exhaling. You needed to clear your mind, or else you wouldn’t be able to fully focus on your task right now.

The sun had finally set.

The moon, now crescent shaped, revealed herself to the quiet world. She shone brightly amidst the blanket of darkness, her friends, the glimmering stars, decorating the night sky—as if they were specks of snow that clung onto one’s clothes.

The village was quiet, and there wasn’t a single person in sight. They were probably hiding, now, with firearms, swords, and other weapons prepared in case the demons were to invade their homes.

Inosuke had stopped ‘practicing,’ his pig assault a while ago, now waiting beside you for the demons to come out.

As if on cue, you could feel the ground beneath you tremble. You quickly got up and brushed off any grass and dirt from your hakama, hands tightly grasping the hilt of your katana that sat comfortably on your hip.

You could feel the village descend, watching as the trees seemed to stretch into the skies above, grass appearing as if they were as long as the susuki grass. Once it stopped, everything, indeed, was shrouded in some sort of…dark, murky mist. However, you could still see the faint illumination of the moon above.

“Hah, I can feel them.” Inosuke muttered.

You nodded in response, backing up. Your back touched his, stance ready just in case any demon was going to attack you from any direction.

All of a sudden, you and Inosuke could hear loud, chilling cackles of multiple demons. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, heart beat beginning to increase.

You drew out your katana, the loud shing! of metal echoing throughout the empty village. You grasped it tightly, brows furrowed in concentration as you saw figures beginning to emerge from the shadows.

“Hello, dinner!”

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #inosuke hashibira #inosuke x reader #inosuke hashibira x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader

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omg-baeyoung-baeran · 4 years ago

Text

Marked with the Kiss of Death: Chapter One (A Mystic Messenger AU Fanfiction)

Archive on Our Own Link

YT Trailer

Genre: Crime, Action,Thriller, Romance, Comedy, Drama

Pairings: Saeran/MC 2, 707/MC 5; more to come

Summary:

Would you rather be famous but live with a criminal?

"I swear he finds me anywhere I go! I see his white hair in all---"

The feeling of freezing arms snaking around her waist gave her sudden reconsiderations of her life decisions.

"It's just how it is, Princess."

Or would you rather hide from a criminal and live as a beggar?

"Sorry, I don't have coins," he muttered as he ran his hand through his unruly red hair.

His boyish charm has sufficed her eyes, but not enough to please her stomach.

"Big bills are fine."

He never knew beggars can be so picky.

o-o-o-o

Every waking minute, she wondered… just what the hell is wrong with him?

“Yes, princess—”

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again—my bodyguard is broken.”

o-o-o-o-o

Ayu clipped two braided blonde locks in a half ponytail. Although she preferred a full braid, her chin-length hair forbade her to do so. She sometimes wished she had not cut her hair, but the barrage of compliments from her social media had tickled her narcissistic side.

It took merely a week before she eventually grew bored with the limited variety of styles she could do.

“Pink or nude? Red is good too, though?” Ayu shook her head. “No, that’s trying too hard.”

Looking into the mirror, she pictured two versions of herself, one sporting a pink shade, the other with a nude shade. At first, it was a simple dilemma that boiled down to three choices— would she go for a feminine, striking, or a subtle kind of beauty? With the striking red out of the picture, her options narrowed down to a subtle nude or a feminine pink.

Eventually, she set down the other two tubes, settling for feminine, “Pink it is.”

Twisting the cap open, she looked at the mirror and swiped the applicator on her lips. She smacked her lips twice to even the colour out. Once she was done, she placed it back in the tube and twisted it close.

For her most dreaded part—contact lenses. As the fanmeet fiasco happened fairly recently, she was yet to get used to poking her eyes.

‘I just got your messages~!’

Ayu switched off the alarm notification and checked the time— 2:00 P.M.

There was no time for contact lenses.

“Guess I’ll go nerdy.”

o-o-o-o

When she says her heart almost leaped out of her chest, of course, it was an exaggeration...

...but there was no denying that he scared the living daylights out of her.

“Do I know you?”

There was no knock on the door; not even a text message—as she opened the door, she found herself face-to-face with astranger in a black suit, waiting in the front door.

“Sorry I’m late,” he bowed. “I was told a princess needed a bodyguard?”

‘Princess? Bodyguard?’

Frowning, Ayu eyed him up and down; he was of average height—with her stopping just below his ear—and had white hair with its tips a faded red. Despite the white hair, he did not seem old—he looked to be in his early 20s, in fact. Just like her.

Was it too late to take out her pepper spray? He might attack her anytime.

“Bodyguard?” she scrunched her brows. No one informed her about a new bodyguard. “How would I know if you’re telling the truth? Do you have any proof to validate your claims?”

“Yes,” he fished through his pocket and pulled out a phone. He quickly tapped his fingers on the screen, then handed it to her. “You can call your dad.”

Though suspicious, she took the phone from his hand.

His contacts book had only one contact in it— Big Boss.

Her lip curled into a sneer at the name, ‘Big Boss? Cringey.’

She pressed the ‘Call’ button and held the phone against her ear. Two rings later, the other line picked up.

“Ray? You called?”

Sure enough, it was her father’s familiar deep voice. And he knew Ray… So Ray was not a random die-hard fan trying to get close to her.

“Dad?”

“Oh, princess, it’s you. I see Ray has arrived.”

“What’s this about a bodyguard? What about Mister Park?”

“Ah, about that… I replaced him. I figured Ray would handle the job better.”

So he was still hung up about the fanmeet incident! Granted, it only happened three weeks ago but...

“Dad! I swear he did nothing wrong! It happened so fast; no one could have foreseen it!”

“Still, it was his job to act fast.”

Ayu let all her stress out with a sigh. As his only daughter, her father cared for her too much that it bordered on overprotectiveness.

Scratch that; it was not borderline—he certainly was overprotective.

“Okay, Dad. I’ll call you later. I have to go.”

After saying their goodbyes, Ayu tapped ‘End Call’ before handing it back to Ray.

“So…,” she crossed her arms, “you’re Ray?”

He took the phone from her, then nodded with a polite close-mouthed smile that screamed forced. Being in the showbiz industry had exposed her to such smiles that she was no stranger to it.

After all, she herself was an expert at that sort of smile.

“Just Ray.”

Uncrossing her arms, she nodded. “Well, at least you’re on time. I’m going to have lunch with my friend. Do you know where Chamwon Restaurant is?”

“No, but I can use Noogle Maps.”

“Alright,” she nodded and walked past him. “Let’s go, then.”

o-o-o-o

“Zen-oppa!” Ayu excitedly waved, bouncing on her heels.

A handsome long-haired albino turned his head to her direction, “Ayu!” He waved back, motioning them to come over.

“Hey,” she tapped Ray’s shoulder, then whispered, “Does my hair look good?”

“Of course, Princess,” Ray vigorously nodded. “You’d still look good even without it!”

‘Is complimenting me also part of his job description? Dad really did things overboard.’

Though weirded out, she led him to their reserved spot, with Ray following exactly five steps away.

Multiple eyes followed their move, but no one dared to get close. With the peaceful atmosphere and customers minding their own businesses, she could not help but feel that their lunch would go smoothly.

“I’m sorry! Did you wait long?”

Zen shook his head. “No! Come on, let’s order.”

Pulling their chairs back, they were about to take their seats...

Ayu paused, wearing a look of plain confusion on her face. Zen, too, had an identical expression on his face.

Source of confusion: her new bodyguard.

It must have been a strange sight: three adults, pausing mid-sit with their asses hovering over their chairs.

His first day working for her and he was not doing a good first impression.

‘What does he want?’ Standing straight, Ayu held Ray’s arm and pulled him up. “Zen-oppa, will you excuse us for a moment?”

“Um, sure,” Zen said, confused, but sat down anyway.

“You can order now! We’ll be back reeeaal quick!” She faced Ray and released his arm, cocking her head to the side and motioning him to come with her.

He nodded, following Ayu as she led him further from the table. With Zen out of earshot and taking a menu from a waitress, Ayu placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder and pushed it down, making him bend to her height, and whispered, “Okay, I know Dad told you to be this overprotective, but I promise to give you a bonus payment later—just please! Sit somewhere else!”

Ayu made sure her smile did not falter. Personal space in public places was a luxury celebrities like her could not afford. A headline of "Idol caught mistreating her bodyguard?!" would prove detrimental to her image… especially in Zen’s presence.

Ray whispered back, “A bonus payment is hard to enjoy when I'm missing my head.”

‘You coward. Can you even call yourself a bodyguard?’

“You don’t have to worry. Just enjoy your date—”

“Shh! It’s not a date!” Blood rising to her face, she darted her head side-to-side, then sighed in relief. So far, no one noticed.

The showbiz industry was an unforgiving one—she was basically “owned” by her fans. Being in a relationship was seen as something of a betrayal to them. Even being seen with Zen was a surprising sight, and rumours about their “dating scandal” used to pop up.

It had caused an uproar within the fandom so as a result, she always assured her fans that they were just friends.

Unfortunately.

The explanation seemed to satisfy them, as hanging out with Zen was not much of a shock anymore.

“And don’t mind me. I promise you’ll forget I even exist! Trust me," he beamed at her with an innocent smile on his lips.

"Does this face look like it trusts you?" she hissed back in a harsh whisper.

Ray studied her face, and for a moment, he thought he was looking at something utterly hideou—

"Yes," he answered briefly.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Let’s go back. Oppa must be hungry.”

Heading back to the table, Ayu took slow strides to calm her nerves, gazing longer at Zen who was intently reading the menu, unaware of the attention she was giving him. Even from afar, Zen gave off an aura of unrivaled beauty and charm. Hell, even the way he flipped pages stirred in her tingles of teenage giddiness.

How anyone could look perfect just by doing nothing was something Ayu once thought impossible. But the first time she laid eyes on him, she realized just how closed-off her world had been.

She was not alone in thinking that; almost everyone in the room had their eyes fixated at Zen, and not just because he was a famous celebrity.

The closer they got to their table, the more the surroundings blurred for her, and the more focused Zen’s beauty became. Ayu somewhat hated the paparazzi, for despite how perfect Zen looked in every angle, they lacked the skill to capture the breathtaking beauty he possessed. A disgrace to photographers around the world, was what they were to her.

At least the paparazzi's incompetence worked in her favour, for she was one of the lucky few able to admire his beauty in the flesh

“Sorry about that,” Ayu spoke as she reached their table.

“It’s fine.” Zen handed her the other menu.

“I haven’t introduced you guys to each other. By the way, this is my new bodyguard, Ray! He replaced Mr. Park just a while ago.”

“It’s fine! So, are you ready to or… der?” Zen’s voice faltered at the end.

Confused, Ayu followed his line of vision and frowned. She was willing to give him a second chance since not everyone should be judged by their first impression but this…

Ray, arms crossed over his chest, stayed rooted by Ayu’s right.

“Oh,” Zen was the first to regain his senses, “don’t you want to join Dongwon? You might feel out of place.” he pointed to a nearby table where a tall, bald man sat, reading a menu.

“It’s fine. Just enjoy your meal, Sir.”

“But—”

“Ah, don’t mind him,” Ayu dismissively waved her hand. They were just wasting their time. Smiling through gritted teeth, she gave Ray’s arm a squeeze. “Ray here! He’s just really,” she squeezed it tighter, “reeeaaally… passionate about his job.”

Ray pulled his arm out of her grasp, “Ahaha! You overestimate me, Princess!” He said, sporting a big smile on his face, intensifying in Ayu an urge to rip it off of his face.

“Ooh, 'Princess' ?” Zen said with a playful quirk of his brow.

“Ah! That’s what he used to call his bosses! It kinda just… stuck to him! Old habits die hard, you know?”

‘How dare Ray embarrass me in front of Zen?! What if he found it cringy?’

“If you say so, Princess!” Zen teased. For some reason, "Princess" sounded far better coming from his lips. As usual, Zen will always be the exception. “Well then, at least take a seat,” he requested and gestured to the chair beside Ayu.

Ray shook his head. “Oh no. I’ll stay here.”

“You’ll,” Ayu choked out her next word, “what?”

“You know, I need to act fast if something happens to you,” he said matter-of-factly.

She did not know what potential her father saw in Ray; all she could see was Ray teetering on the fine line between caution and paranoia.

“Ah, you don’t have to!” She forced a smile, shaking her head. Surely, not even he was dense enough to miss her straightforward message.

‘Seriously. You. Don’t. Have. To.’

“Oh, what’s wrong?”

Dongwon walked over to their table, then slightly bowed. He stood by Zen’s side, mirroring Ray’s position.

“Oh, um, want to sit with us?” Zen offered, albeit confused.

To Ayu’s dismay, Dongwon shook his head. Things seemed to be going in a direction that strayed from her original vision.

“Hmm, I see?” Zen said. “We’ll order takeout for you after, how does that sound?”

The two bodyguards nodded, mumbling their thanks.

“Okay! Now that that’s settled… Ayu, is there anything you want?”

Humming to herself, Ayu flipped a page and shrugged, “I’m not sure. Whatever you think is good.”

“Okay! I’ll just order the usual then.” Zen raised his arm, catching not only a nearby waitress’ attention but the other customers' as well.

They must have wondered if their presence was an elaborate endorsement; after all, having two celebrities hanging out in basically any place—from five-star restaurants to junkyards—was bound to bring attention.

The waitress that came over was a young woman, possibly around 18 to 19, with a name tag that says "Jihyo".

“Yes?”

For a second, Ayu was unable to suppress the frown from showing. Once she noticed, she quickly replaced it with a smile.

‘Who the hell does this girl think she is?’

Being in the entertainment industry made it easy to discern that type of voice—one she heard a lot from girls; it was the voice that made her want to slice her ears off.

Ayu looked in disgust, as the waitress swayed her body side-to-side, bouncing on the balls of her feet and looking at Zen with an awestruck expression.

‘Please mess up our order.’

“We’ll have Set C….” Zen showed her the menu, pointing at their order.

The way the Jihyo girl’s face got closer to Zen’s triggered within her an urge to….

Jihyo scribbled their order on her notepad, particularly slow for a two-word order.

‘Hurry up.’

Once she was done, she bowed and left the table. Ayu’s murderous thoughts were finally put at ease.

“So… about your role!”

Zen’s face lit up. “I’m glad you asked!”

“What’s your role?”

“Okay, so it’s a murder mystery show. Basically, my character is a lawyer prodigy. Something happened in his past that made him into who he is, which I won’t say because it’s a spoiler. So anyway—”

Not once did she chime in or cut his words off, only nodding every so often. The combination of Zen’s perfectly-sculpted features, enchanting red eyes, melodic voice, and passion for acting never failed to capture her in a trance.

“I’m sure you’ll do a good job!” Ayu gushed. “Can’t wait to watch it!”

Zen chuckled, “When I first heard the summary, I thought it might be something you’d like.”

“You thought so?”

“Here’s your order.”

To her relief, a different waiter came with their order. After turning the grill on, he set down two trays of raw meat and plates of side dishes—kimchi, fish cakes, japchae, steamed eggs, and baby potatoes.

“Order’s complete. Enjoy your meal." The waiter dipped his head, and left.

o-o-o-o

‘Discomfort by proxy’—did such a term exist? If so, that was the perfect way to describe what Ray currently felt, what with all those stares directed at the two celebrities. How could anyone get used to this? It was hard enough to eat with just one person staring, but more than one? He might as well be a zoo animal, then.

Glancing to his left, Ray spotted a group of high school-aged boys five tables away, two of them holding menus in front of their faces, trying to catch a peek of his oblivious boss. Today was a lucky day for those boys, as their idol crush was too busy making disgusting googly eyes at Zen to notice them.

“You mentioned you wanted to try acting, right?” Zen asked.

“Oh… yeah. I just wanted to try it out like once, but I’m not really actively looking,” Ayu shrugged.

“Hmm, if you want, the director told me he has a friend who’ll be directing a film! And she’s looking for actresses who can star in her movie.”

“Ooh! What’s it about?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll ask him.”

“Tell me, okay?!”

With another glance to the left, Ray saw that those boys now had phones discreetly peeking out from their menus.

Ray rolled his eyes. Seriously, who were they fooling?

He shifted to the left, blocking Ayu from their view. Though faced away from them, he could hear them whining how perfect the photo would have been were it not for “that photobombing tofu”.

He suppressed a snort, ‘Tofu? That’s the best you can do?’

As derogatory as it sounded, it did not bother him at all. After all, pale skin such as his own was sought after.

“So Sienna—”

The brief frown that rose from Ayu’s face did not go unnoticed to Ray’s eyes.

Sienna Park, the visual, center and lead vocalist of the girl group his boss’ daughter was from—Dandelion; also considered the second-most popular member after Ayu.

Zen, however, was unaware of the sour change of mood, for her face reverted back to its over-the-top cheerfulness in an instant.

‘Well, idols have to keep up a facade…’

It jarred Ray as to how she could switch from sweet to murderous with ease.

Click!

Ayu’s head instinctively snapped up. “Oppa!” She squealed.

‘Oppa,’ Ray almost sniggered at that. ‘Do girls actually think they look cute saying that?’

“Hmm, what caption should I put?” Zen sang teasingly.

“Delete that!” She threatened with wide eyes, only for her growing grin to render her threats futile, as though she enjoyed being teased by him.

‘Get a room…’

“Why not? It looks cute! See?”

Zen held his phone in front of her, which showed a candid shot of her, mouth slightly open, in the middle of talking and flipping over a piece of beef.

“Cute?” A dust of pink slowly spread on her cheeks as she turned her head away.

“Yeah. I rarely see you with your glasses on. It always looks so new to me.”

“Oh… Maybe I should’ve worn my contact lenses instead,” she pouted, before adding a new set of strips to the grill.

“Nah, that’s not what I meant. I think you look cute with your glasses.”

Her hold on the tong loosened.

Shing!

“Ah!” She exclaimed, recoiling as the meat sizzled and spattered oil droplets on her.

Zen took the tong from her, taking over. “Do you disagree that much?” He chuckled at her flustered face.

“O-Oppa! You’re such a joker!” She sheepishly laughed. Without the tong to keep her occupied, she fanned her reddened face with both hands.

Ray wanted to throw up all over their fishcakes. It was hard to stand there with a straight face.

Before he could actually throw up, Ray stopped listening in on their conversation. It’s not like there was anything interesting to take from it.

As for her father, he could finally sleep at night without worrying about Zen stealing his only princess away. From the looks of it, his paranoia was baseless, as it was all unrequited on Ayu's part.

With a father like that, he pitied any guy unfortunate enough to catch Ayu’s fancy.

“Ooh, I think this is done,” Zen said, switching the grill stove off. One by one, he took each slice and placed them on another plate.

“Hmm!” Ayu gushed as she inhaled the barbecues’ mouth-watering aroma. “This looks so good!”

“Eat up,” Zen said, handing her a pair of metal chopsticks.

“Yes! Thank you for the food!”

She waited until Zen took the first bite. “Is it good?”

“Yep!”

Using his own chopsticks, he pinched a chunk of rice, adding a small slice of pork along with it. With a palm below to catch any falling grain, Zen brought it closer to Ayu’s mouth. “Say ‘aah’!”

‘What do you think you two are doing?’

They were famous celebrities; would it kill them to be more careful? Surely, this would cause a dating scandal.

And a scolding from Big Boss as well.

Just in time, he could already see someone pulling out a phone from two tables away.

Eyes closed, Ayu leaned forward and opened her mouth, “Aaaahh.”

‘You’re not helping matters at all, dummy.’

Ray moved to her left side, just before she took a bite, hiding her from the photographer’s view before giving the camera a “little” smile— an apology for ruining what should have been a perfect shot.

But his apology seemed unwanted, as they scowled both at their phone screens and him.

“Is it good?”

“Mm-hmm!” Ayu nodded, simpering, and seemingly disconnected from the real world.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Zen nodded, before facing Ray. “Mister Ray, you really don’t want to sit?”

“It’s fine,” he shook his head with a forced smile. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

“Hmm, I see—”

Bzzt! Bzzt!

“Oh, just a moment,” Zen said, glancing at his vibrating phone, then at Ayu. “Sorry. Can I take this call? It’s a bit urgent.”

“Sure! Take your time!” She nodded.

“I’ll be quick!” Zen held the phone near his ear, speaking in a hushed tone as he headed to the bathroom.

With Zen away to take the call, the whole table was quiet. Ayu continued eating without him.

This was bad. The absence of a tall and handsome guy like Zen to be intimidated by made it easier for average no-name guys to try their luck.

Not even 10 seconds after Zen left, a young man, holding a journal and pen, was heading towards their table.

How foolish. Ray may not be as tall or breathtakingly handsome as Zen, but it didn’t matter. Now that he was paid to be stuck by Ayu’s side, the chances of ever coming near her were close to nil.

The date had numbed his mind so much, he might as well amuse himself.

Taking advantage of Ayu’s absentmindedness, Ray sidled to her left, placing a hand behind her and resting it over the chair’s rail.

Ray’s protective stance prompted the young boy to stop in his tracks, looking as though he was having second thoughts.

He flashed the young man a cheeky smile that was in no way welcoming.

Put off by the hostility emanating from his smile, the boy’s conflicting thoughts were put to rest, and he finally backed out.

With his intimidation a success, he straightened his posture.

“Okay, done!”

Her rat-tailed friend finally arrived.

Zen announced, then pulled his chair back and sat. “Did you wait long?”

“Nope, not at all!”

“Soooo… how’s this charity thing of yours doing? Something… F.A? ” Ayu questioned with a slight tilt of her head.

“RFA? It’s doing well! Hmm, we still don’t have a set date for the next party, though.”

“Oh, I see,” she nodded.

“I’ll send you and the girls an invitation once our party coordinator decides on the date.”

A split-second pout crossed her face but was immediately replaced with a full grin.

“Yay!” Ayu clapped. “What will the party theme be?”

“Umm…”

Their heads turned at the stranger’s sudden arrival.

“O-oppa…”

‘Oppa? The princess wouldn’t like that.’

The barely noticeable twitch in her eye was enough proof.

A slightly chubby girl approached their table, accompanied by another girl who looked the same age as she did.

“Go on,” said the other girl, giving her friend a light push towards Zen.

“Yes?” Zen flashed her a polite smile.

“U-um…”

“She wants an autograph!” The friend said, sipping from her mug and positioning herself near Ayu.

“I-I…!”

“Oh, sure!” Zen said, easing her nerves. “No problem at all!”

Etched on his boss’ face was an uncomfortably wide smile that failed to reach her eyes.

“R-really?!” The girl smiled, handing to him a DVD case of Tei’s Tea Leaf, the film that skyrocketed his fame, making him a beloved household name.

Smiling, Zen took it, “Mm-hmm!” He stretched a palm out to his bodyguard, who then placed a black marker pen on it. Uncapping it, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Y-Yoori!” The girl blushed, leaning closer to Zen.

Hidden underneath the table was Ayu’s tightly-clenched fist, nails digging in her palms sure to leave a crescent-shaped mark.

“Okay! Yoori, ” Zen mumbled as he wrote his message. “May you always be happy and healthy. Make sure to always eat your meals…”

Face still close to Zen, she snuck a glance at her friend, mouthing something before giving a slight nod.

Something seemed off.

Ray jolted his head to his left. Something was definitely off. No one, not even Zen’s bodyguard, paid attention to the mug in the girl’s hand, hovering above Ayu’s head, and slowly tilting downwards.

Quickly shifting to the side, he reached out to grab the girl’s wrist.

“Ow! W-what the?!”

“Ray?!” Ayu abruptly stood, widening her eyes at him. “What are you doing?! Let her go!”

She reached a hand out to pull Ray away from the girl, but was too slow to stop…

the tea…

from spilling…

on…

Zen.

Splash!

“Ah!” Zen stood, hair dripping wet and clothes stained with black tea, squeezing the liquid from the drenched part of his shirt.

Ayu snapped her head towards Ray, “What did you just do?!”

She had on her face an absolute look of disgust.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry! He didn’t mean it!" She panicked. "What to do, what to do…?” Ayu grabbed a fistful of tissues and dabbed them on his damp shirt.

“This has gotten… a bit out of hand,” Zen lightly chuckled, rubbing his nape. “Take out?”

o-o-o-o

“I forget this usually happens when you’re famous.” Zen joked once they reached their car.

“Same.…”

For the first time since meeting Zen, his humour was lost on her. She’s always laughed even at his unfunniest jokes, but now... How could she laugh when the day she’s been looking forward to the most turned into such a wreck?

“It’s weird. You know, I sometimes invite Sienna here—”

‘Sienna this, Sienna that.’ That cursed name always brought out a frown on her face.

“—but this never really happened.” Zen scratched his head and chuckled. “You be careful, okay?” He held the door open for Ayu, handing her the take-out bag and waved. “Make sure Mr. Ray doesn’t skip a meal!”

With zero enthusiasm, she nodded, forcing out a smile that failed to reach her eyes. “Sure!”

The windows rolled up, and they sped off. Ray did not turn the radio on this time and simply drove in silence, occasionally glancing at her from the rear-view mirror.

As for Ayu, she was too busy cooking up a plan on how to get away with murder.

o-o-o-o

Ayu slammed the door open, hitting the wall with much force, and stomped her way in.

Following exactly 5 steps behind was Ray, carrying a box package under his arm and staying silent all throughout.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Ayu kicked her wedges off of her feet and flung them to opposite directions.

“I hate her. I hate her. I hate that… UGH!” She tightened the grip on her handbag’s strap, knuckles turning white and fingernails digging into her palms. The temper she kept contained the whole car ride was now bubbling beyond her control.

Skipping the mandatory 5-second countdown, she snapped her head at Ray and snarled, “YOU!”

Stomping her way towards him, Ayu jabbed a finger on his chest. “First day working and this is what you do?! Why did you have to mess this up? What right did you have to ruin everything? Everything was going well until you decided to literally spill the tea on Oppa!”

Ray said nothing, simply watching her seethe with anger.

“AND. THAT. SIENNA. He had barbecue with Sienna before… me? Huh?”

Ayu grabbed fistfuls of her hair, yanking it at its roots. A glimpse of Sienna eating and laughing with Zen flashed in her mind—fleeting, but enough to fuel her rage.

Taking deep breaths, she paced back and forth around the living room. With gritted teeth, she let out a soft scream, controlled and barely a scream at first, gradually rising to a crescendo.

And thus came the apocalypse.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

She picked up a throw pillow from her couch and hurled it towards Ray, who barely avoided getting hit. “AAAAAAAHHHHH! I CAN'T EVEN!”

Nothing was safe in her presence. Any object unfortunate enough to be within arm’s reach was practically Sienna and Ray in her eyes.

She grabbed three more pillows, hurling them one by one in every direction. “AAAAAHHHHH! CURSE! EVERYTHING!”

Even her Louis Vuitton handbag was not spared from the madness. She unzipped it with much force, almost detaching its zipper, and dumped all of its contents on the ground.

She picked up her first victim—a pressed powder around ₩78,000—and threw it across the room, letting out a long, ear-piercing battle cry. Not even the slightest hint of regret crossed her mind as it collided against the wall, dropping to the floor with a loud crack. Her ₩78,000 pressed powder was now barely worth a cent.

Her second victim—a flower vase she received from a fan two Christmases ago—met the same fate as the first. Who cares if it was a gift? Who cares if they were expensive? She. Wanted. Everything. Destroyed.

Imagining the scattered ceramic shards as Sienna’s face was doing nothing to curb her bloodlust. Driven by the memory of their disastrous date, she picked them all up, not caring about the wound or even worse, the infection she could get.

It’s fine as long as they die before she does.

“AAAAAAAAHHH!”

From the corner of her eye, Ray was darting his head side to side.. The chaos unfolding before him went beyond his control.

It was not enough. Thrashing the whole living room was not bringing any satisfaction at all!

If laws did not exist, she would have killed those two already!

Lastly, she caught sight of her phone, grabbing it and dialing the only person she knew would understand her.

At the first ring, the other line picked up.

“Yes—”

“FIRE HIM! FIRE! HIM! I WANT ANOTHER BODYGUARD! IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE MR. PARK! ANYONE BUT THIS PIECE OF TRASH! THROW HIM AWAAAAAAAAAAY! AAAAAAHHH!” She screeched at the top of her lungs.

“P-princess, calm down! What’s wrong?”

“MY BODYGUARD IS BROKEN!”

“What?”

“RAY! HE… RAY! HE RUINED EVERYTHING! I’LL NEVER GET THIS CHANCE AGAIN AND HE–HE! UUUUUGGGGH!” She repeatedly stomped her feet.

“Deep breaths, Princess, deep breaths. What did he do?”

“RAY! HE SPILLED—"

Then followed a string of curses befitting a sailor. If her words could be censored, it would merely be a continuous, uninterrupted beeping noise.

“Give Ray the phone. I’ll speak to him.”

“FIRE HIM, OKAY?”

Ayu tapped the loudspeaker button, stomping towards Ray, who was standing still, carrying a box package under his arm.

She shoved the phone on Ray’s free hand. “You’re screwed.”

Ray held the speaker near his mouth. “Yes, boss?”

She crossed her arms and loudly tapped her foot. If looks could kill, Ray would have been shish-kebab by now. To be more precise, he had already been impaled by her death glares immediately as they stepped out of the restaurant.

“What just happened? I don’t understand what she’s saying. She said you spilled a girl on her tea? And someone’s shirt was drenched with this Zen? What? W-what does that mean?”

“Ah. That.”

“So you really did something?”

“Yes, but not in the way she makes it out to be.”

Ayu uncrossed her arms and stomped her foot. “JUST GET TO THE FREAKING POINT ALREADY!”

“I’m not done talking,” Ray coldly snapped.

She gaped at him in a scandalized manner. ‘How dare you?’

“And she’s right… somewhat.”

Irritated, she huffed a few stray hair strands away from her face, ‘Somewhat my ass.’

“I did spill the tea on Mr. Zen but I was only trying to stop the girl’s friend from spilling the tea on your daughter.”

At Ray’s words, the frown on Ayu’s face slowly faded and was soon replaced by confusion. The tea was meant for her?

Stills of that unfortunate incident flashed in her mind—malicious intent hiding behind a useless piece of trash’s youthful smile, aiming a water gun at Ayu’s eyes, hellbent on blinding her with whatever unholy mixture she had concocted.

If Ray had been with her back then… would he have prevented it? She watched the conversation between her father and her bodyguard, a somber look marring her face.

“What? Why would they do that?”

“Simply put, they dislike Ayu..”

“This is unbelievable! How could anyone dislike my Ayu?”

“Heh, I wonder how as well,” he sneered as he sent a sidelong glance her way.

Ayu’s spirits sank lower. All this time, she was lashing out at someone who... did not deserve it?

Having tea spilled on her was not nearly as dangerous as the time she nearly went blind. Unlike then, the one from the barbecue place was merely an expression of hate rather than a desire to harm, but still….

“Tell me their names! I’ll make sure—”

“Stop!” Ayu marched towards Ray, snatching the phone from his hand. “No need! Goodbye, Dad!”

“Princess—!”

She ended it before he could say another word. She knew it was rude, but she did not care anymore. He’d forgive her anyway.

She looked around her, at the mess...

'Mess' was an understatement; it was a trainwreck brought about by her rampage— the aftermath of a friendly date gone horribly wrong.

With the anger ebbing away, only silence was left between the two.

“Are you being honest with me right now?”

“Yes.”

“You know I could fire you anytime, right?”

“Yes.”

Blue eyes scrutinized his mint ones, intently searching for the slightest hint of a lie… at least something to justify her outburst...

However, Ray held his ground, staring her down with the same intensity as her. He looked as though he was challenging her, disregarding the fact that he was still working under her…

...as if he thought they were equals.

“Are we clear? Can I go now?”

She was the first to break eye contact. “Do… Do what you want,” she said, casting her gaze on the ground.

He bowed, carrying the box package under his arm, then left.

o-o-o-o

He had seen better content from Nat Geo Wild.

Ray rolled his eyes and scoffed. Handling his boss’ daughter’s tantrums was not part of his job description; last time he checked, he was a bodyguard, not a babysitter.

Her shrill voice was grating to the ears. He knew how much her father doted on her. Judging from his boss’ stories about her, he expected a spoiled princess wannabe…

...not the batshit crazy woman package that came with it.

He was expecting at least a "thank you" from her, even when his effort deserved nothing short of a bow of gratitude. Were it not for him, those dirtbag fans of hers would have flooded in, asking for autographs and ruining her date. She should have been thankful that he was considerate enough to help her enjoy her date in peace.

| From: Big Boss

|You did a good job today. Keep it up. Be ready by midnight sharp tomorrow.

Ray shot a glance at the box package under his bed. Another one? He’d have to be extra careful around Ayu, then.

“Tsk, tsk… useless brat….”

‘Condoms exist to prevent the birth of such abomination.’

o-o-o-o

As Ray stepped foot in the dining area, he was greeted by the smell of bacon and butter.

Ayu, who was seated at the other end of the table, glanced up at him. Upon meeting his eyes, she hung her head down, playing with the ends of her hair instead.

Across from her, at the spot he usually sat on, was an untouched plate of five greasy bacon strips and scrambled eggs. Beside it was a plate of pancakes stacked atop each other, drizzled with syrup and topped with slowly melting butter.

Bzz!

A fly flew past him, then landed atop a strip of bacon.

Ayu waved it away, but it was a stubborn one, moving on to another strip instead. “TCH!” She shooed it again, and the fly eventually gave up and went away.

“You should’ve eaten it sooner if you didn’t want flies getting to it.”

“I don’t eat these stuff.”

“Why is it here, then? Is Boss coming over?”

“No.”

“Ah. How about that pretty boy?”

“I don’t invite men to my house. And Zen is too much of a gentleman for that.”

“Ah. Your frie—”

“AH!” Ayu slammed her hands on the table. Testing her patience first thing in the morning was not good for anyone’s health. “JUST EAT ALREADY FOR GOODNESS—!” She stopped herself before she could continue further. Closing her eyes and taking a sharp inhale, she composed herself.

“Eat it now if you don’t want it to go cold,” she said in a somber tone.

This brought about a scowl to Ray’s face. Was it that hard to say sorry? She was in the wrong, yet she still held her pride.

He figured her father had probably instilled in her mind how she never needed to apologize.

“Tough luck, then, Princess.” Ray reached for an apple in the fruit bowl, then bit into it.

She felt annoyed at how the seconds ticked at an unbearably slow pace, and his loud munches only worsened it. Was it that hard to eat? If it was a matter of taste, there was nothing to worry about. She can cook if that’s what he was worried about.

After what felt like an eternity, Ray swallowed. “I don’t eat those kinds of food too.”

He stood up and headed straight to the door, leaving her sulking.

‘Go choke on your pride and bacon. See if I care.’

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger saeran x mc 2 #mystic messenger 707 x mc 5 #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger fanart

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modestlyabsurd · 6 years ago

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Wallflower's Diner (Loki x Reader)

The old familiar ding-a-ling of the entrance bell. You hear it every morning when you clock in for work, and all day long during your double shifts; it sings its welcome for hungry people as they come into the diner.

Wallflower's was a little twenty-four hour hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon with a nice, artfully modern atmosphere. Regulars among newcomers come in every day, greeted by a happy person and the smell of food cooking, but what really reeled them in was the tasteful, down to earth decor and style. Natural light shines through wall to wall windows.

Happy green succulents and wildflowers sit on tables in abstract pots and vases. Bright murals of inspiring quotes swirling above skyscrapers color the walls, inside and outside. The tables were covered in reusable cloths with uncolored pictures of birds and cityscapes, and each table gets a box of washable markers to color with while they wait for their food. Even the to-go boxes are decorated with intricate designs.

Landing a job at this gem was something to be appreciated - and you did.

Even though you had to work double shifts five or six days a week to support yourself - the cost of living for a young person in New York was far more than you expected - you loved working at Wallflower's. It was such a happy place.

Some days you worked the kitchen, some days you worked the front house. Today you worked the kitchen. And since it was one of those mornings where frankly you didn't feel like waking up at five o'clock, at least you wouldn't have to deal with the public.

The morning breezed by smoothly as you sliced bread, cut fruit and vegetables and mixed pancake batter. Breakfast tickets started piling in at six o'clock. Soon, the kitchen smelled of coffee, omelettes, sweet pastries and fruity smoothies. You and the rest of the staff were popping out orders and washing dirty dishes like clockwork. A few people even dropped coins and bills into the tip jar on the order counter.

You recognized some of the regular orders and thought of the faces belonging to them while you cooked. One came in that made you smile upon reading it; breakfast burrito with scrambled eggs, peppers, cheese, sour cream and avocado (extra crispy, smushed down flat).

And before your mind can put it together, here comes a flash of blue as Peter Parker runs in the kitchen, peeking into the ticket window. "Hey Y/N!" he pants, resting his chin on his propped up elbows on the window. He resembles a puppy in the most ridiculous way.

"Hey Pete! What on earth are you doing here this early?" Peter usually came in after school hours to pick up a snack - a strawberry mango smoothie on most days - so seeing him before school even began was unusual.

"We were outta milk, so I couldn't have any cereal."

"Really? I'd die."

He laughs, "I know right? And plus I haven't had a breakfast burrito in a while so it works."

"How's Aunt May?" you ask while pouring eggs onto the griddle, thinking fondly of how much she cares about Peter and how much she really deserves a vacation.

"She's good. She's been worried a lot, though. About the internship."

The internship for Tony fuckin' Stark. Man, that kid got blessed.

"I'm sure she is - I mean, she's probably not ready to let go of you yet, dude. And you have been a little more stressed out lately," you fold the pastel yellow eggs on top of each other in a roll and add a dash of seasonings - onion, cayenne, parsley - just 'cause he's special.

"Yeah, but I'm fine. She literally has nothing to worry about, I grab coffee and sweat towels for a team of superheroes. How is that dangerous?"

You cock your eyebrow. He thinks he's slick. He has no clue that you know he's Spiderman on the weekends, and that's what he does for Tony Stark.

But it's fun to watch him stammer and stutter sometimes when you're onto him.

"It depends on the superheroes, I guess. What are they like, anyway? The Avengers, that is," you ask inquisitively.

"Oh man, Captain America is so cool. He talks about his life back in the forties all the time, about the radio stations, the sports, and sometimes he talks about his time in the war and it helps me with history tests - b-but don't tell anyone that! That's cheating!"

"You're such a goody two-shoes." Of course, so were you. It's a part of why you and Peter became friends. "Don't worry, I won't tell. What about anyone else?" you say, generously sprinkling the cheese onto his unrolled burrito.

"Uh, oh! I - ah," a waitress places another ticket above his head. After watching to make sure she left back into the dining area, he leans even closer into the ticket window. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone this."

"Spill the tea, Parker."

He stares as you carefully roll his burrito up with gloved hands, fighting with himself. He promised Happy he wouldn't tell, but he wants to tell someone so bad! And he trusts you. You've been there for him; you've talked to him for your entire hour-long break of your twelve hour shift when he failed his driving test. You've helped him study at the library before. You've even given him food on the house, which he knows is on you. You're a few years older than him, but he really considers you a friend.

As his face becomes sweaty from steam and his stomach growls at the sight of his breakfast crisping up, he gives.

"I met Thor the other day."

"You what?!"

"Shh!" he smiles hugely, "be quiet! Yes, they came from Asgard two days ago." Both yours and Peter's eyes have grown wider by at least two centimeters.

"Thor?!"

"Yes Thor! The real Thor! And Loki."

Your heart sank a mile.

That can't be right.

"Wait, his brother? The one who tried to take over Earth? Loki? He's here too? Why is he here?!" you hiss, flipping the burrito violently, the questions tumbling out before Peter has time to answer them.

"Hold on, hold on! Wait! He's good now! He's different! He doesn't want to kill anybody!"

"You talked to him?!"

"Yes! Well, I didn't really talk to him much, but he did say hi to me when Mr. Stark introduced us. Then he disappeared for the rest of the day."

"Not suspicious at all!"

He chuckles at the whisper-yelling you're both doing. Thankfully, he'd expected such a reaction. "C'mon, I know it sounds crazy, but Thor says he's had a change of heart. Maybe he's worth a chance, y'know? I mean, he hasn't hurt anyone yet. Well, actually he did - "

"I don't even wanna know," you close your eyes and wave your hands, dismissing the thought of whatever it was.

"It was just a prank! It was actually pretty funny."

"I'll take your word for it, loser." You wrap his extra crispy, smushed down flat food in some recycled paper, then drop it into a bag with whimsical designs all over it. You write on it with a sharpie, You're really not a loser. "Actually, y'know what? I wanna know all about this later. It sounds too good to be true."

"Believe it, babe. Keep the change!" He throws five dollars at you and it lands on the hot griddle and before you have time to berate the little rat for contaminating and for calling you babe, he's running away. The door ding-a-ling's as he bolts through it.

You're left, picking up the bill off the stove before it catches fire. The burrito only cost a dollar and some change, so that was a fat tip; especially for a cook.

You pocket the money, shaking your head and smiling to yourself. "Have a good day, loser."

Aside from the usual lively, tiring high you get from working, talking with Peter was the highlight of your day. It left you eager to know more about the Avengers and their stories, about history, about Asgard, about space, about everything.

You kept having to stifle a nagging emotion - anxiety? fear? maybe just nerves - when your mind pulled to the fact that Thor's brother Loki is on earth at this very moment. Only by grace were you not affected by the attack on the planet years ago, but the damage was done regardless. You were merely lucky.

The disgust and disdain wanted to take over and sour your outlook, but pure curiosity overpowered that. Peter claims that Thor vouches for Loki now. He's biased, you think to yourself, before the angel on your shoulder pipes up, So are you.

By the time you realize you're having a mental conversation with yourself, the countertops are wiped sparkling clean and ready for the five o'clock turn of shifts. The natural light had moved, casting longer dramatic shadows in different patterns across the checkered floor and painted walls.

Part of you was a little bummed that Peter hadn't returned after school to pick up his usual smoothie. You'd really wanted to learn more of the Avengers and the mysterious Loki. If only you could ask May, but Peter said he wasn't supposed to tell anyone and by the sounds of it, he hadn't. You clock out at five-fifteen. Alas, you'll just have to wait.

Thank heavens the next day wasn't a double shift, since you were waiting tables. Although you still had to wake up at five in the morning.

The sun shined through the diner windows in warm yellow rays, a nice contrast to the brisk morning chill. The week had ended, taking some of the initial hustle and bustle with it. Rush hour didn't start until afternoon hours on weekends which gave you and your co-workers a bit of down time to relax.

But to your surprise, a hostess flags you down in the kitchen as you're pinning an order to the ticket window. She pulls you by the arm out of earshot and says, "There's a party out there and they asked for you to be their server. By the way, it's the Avengers."

You stare at her, but you don't see her.

"Huh?"

"The Avengers are here."

Breaking yourself out of your anxious stupor, you roll your eyes incredulously. "Quit lying. It's the Delgado's, isn't it? With their prim and proper etiquette and - holy hell."

You peek over the bar.

It's the Avengers.

Habitually you begin counting heads. So, it's not all of them; there are six heroes and you only count five heads - is that Peter? - sitting along the makeshift party table toward the shadowed back of the dining area. That's definitely Peter, with Thor, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Jesus gremenies Loki is out there too?!

Only when a sharp pain shoots from your bottom lip do you realize you're chewing it, thinking of all the ways to curse Peter later.

In a rush you thank the hostess and pat down your waist apron to make sure everything's there, then you're standing at the front of the table overlooking the civilian-dressed Avengers.

Your usual, partially rehearsed introduction goes exceptionally smooth. "Hey guys! Welcome to Wallflower's! My name is Y/N and I will be your server this morning. Is this your first time here?"

Tony Stark who sits at the end like a throne speaks up, "It is, thanks to the kid, here," he mumbles, elbowing Peter in the arm. "He says he knows you."

"Yes, unfortunately, I do know Mr. Parker - "

"Hey!" Peter suddenly stops petting the succulent centerpiece at your fake cringing, making the whole table laugh and smile. All but one. Beside Peter.

One of the two sitting closest to you.

"Well, I dunno what all he briefed you on, but as you can see your table is a giant washable coloring book," they look down, suddenly noticing all the little swirls and blank spaces empty of color. You pull out small boxes of assorted washable markers from your apron and while you pass them around, realize you don't have enough for everyone.

"That might be the niftiest thing I've ever seen," says Steve Rogers. Captain fucking America! He's already drawing on his space.

You beam at them, "Yeah! It's one of my favorite things, getting to see the way people draw and color on their tablecloths. But it looks like I'm one box short for you guys, so I'll bring one more with your drinks. Everyone know what they're having?"

The first three, Tony, Peter and Steve, order their fountain drinks without a problem. The last two, however, haven't the first idea what a Coca-Cola or a Sprite is. Peter takes it upon himself to try and explain the concept of carbonated drinks, but fails miserably. Leaving Thor and Loki with even more confusion.

"Do you serve alcohol?" Thor asks innocently, making you nearly bubble over laughing.

"I'm afraid not. But we have coffee, sweet iced tea, orange juice or just plain water if that'd be better," you look between them, and you can't hold Loki's gaze for too long. It's intense, almost invasive; unlike the blond brother's lighthearted aura.

Immediately Thor answers, "I'll have black coffee. Very hot, please."

You take a mental note of that request, a stupid smile covering your face. Then you look to Loki, who is now choosing to stare intently at his menu. "And for you, sir?"

He contemplates his answer as if he's being interrogated.

"Plain water will be fine."

As soon as you're out of their view, you scramble away to the kitchen with a rush of unreleased adrenaline coursing through you. Your mind's racing, your heart's beating and you're pouring the heros' drinks like a mad person. Hell, you almost spilled hot coffee on your hands from shaking so much.

The worst part was it came from you fanning over the Avengers.

You reminded yourself to focus. It was a rather slow afternoon - especially considering the circumstance that would presumably bring people to see - but there were still three other tables you had to tend to.

On your way back to the dining room you almost forget to grab another box of markers before your hands are full with the drink tray. Weaving through a couple customers and other waitresses you make it to the long table.

You circle the table to sit everyone's drinks in front of them. Everyone's locked in a childlike trance as they color and doodle on the tablecloth; you glance around and notice the one who isn't. No one gave Loki any of the markers.

"Here's your markers as well," you lean over and extend your hand with the box to Loki. He averts momentarily from staring at your face to the markers. His mouth opened and closed, not sure of what to say. So he extends a frighteningly pale hand and takes them.

He accidentally brushes his fingertips to yours.

You both jerk away.

Damn, his hand is freezing, you thought, hiding your hand behind your back and flexing a fist; it lingered like a static shock.

He's gotten wide-eyed now, nearly apologizing. You can't help but feel bad for snatching your hand away like that.

"Cold hands means a warm heart. A-at least, that's what they say," you stutter. Loki retorts, looking down at his markers.

"You must be quite cold-hearted then."

"Loki!" Thor scolds. Although the others were now giving him dirty looks, you sensed not a bit of malice in his comment. In fact, your cheeks were heating up a great deal.

"Please, Y/N, don't mind the asshole," Tony says waving his hand in Loki's direction.

"Oh believe me, I've dealt with far worse just this week. Being called cold-hearted is a nothing," you assure them. The genuine grin on your face is helping a lot. "Are we ready to order?"

With that, you scribble each of their orders down onto your notepad before gathering the menus and making way back to the kitchen. The steamy heat hits your face like a splash of cold water. Exactly what you need.

You almost want to giggle out loud at the fact that you're semi-nailing being the Avengers' waitress. They're happy, they're comfortable, they're talking with each other. Coloring the table, still. You glance their way as you cover your other tables' refills and cheques and notice that every time you do, Loki looks up at you. Piercing enough to make you quickly avert.

The clock ticked away, closer to your thirty minute break. As much fun as you were having, the anxiety level was up there. Your mind went back to how you'd seek revenge at Peter. Maybe you'll add a big splash of lemon juice to his smoothie on Monday. Or cayenne pepper. That would be entertaining.

Once you get out of the groove, the nerves crawl up. So you occupy yourself by clearing off a couple of finished tables, balancing them on your arms to the kitchen to be washed. When you get there, the cook is placing the last plate of the team's order on the counter. Perfect timing, you think to yourself.

Defying all odds that have previously proven you a clumsy mess, you singlehandedly bring out all five plates into the dining room and make it to their table. Instantly, the markers are forgotten and the smell of toasted bread, sweet tomatoes and fresh herbs arouse the guys from their drawing. Tony, Steve and Thor are practically drooling from hunger, Peter makes grabby hands for his food.

Loki's food is served last, following the order in which it was taken. You set his plate in front of him, covering whatever he'd been diligently drawing.

He looks up at you again, meeting your eyes, and holds them there for a second longer.

"Thank you."

That feeling in your hand earlier? It's back, but now it's spreading through your sternum.

"You're welcome."

You find yourself still staring even after he's dropped his grateful gaze to his plate.

Air shoves its way into your chest.

"Alright! Please enjoy, and you guys just let me know if you need anything." A round of muffled appreciation sounds come from the team as they've already began shoveling.

What am I feeling? Pre-heart attack symptoms?

People are clearing out, leaving only the team and two others dining. This gives you a chance to do some cleaning up before you take your break. And a chance to sort your thoughts.

Is he mind-controlling you? No way, that couldn't be. There's no way he'd be going places like normal people with them if that were the case. But that sure is how it feels. Like you can't get rid of the thought. The coldness. The way he holds your gaze.

Who knew that simple eye contact could arouse so many feelings?

It also feels completely and morally wrong. Love at first sight is a farce, let alone with someone of Loki's caliber. He likely looks at everyone like that. A manipulation tactic. It's not even the first time a customer has tried sweet-talking a waitress. Of course, calling someone cold hearted is certainly a unique way of sweet-talking.

But it was the way he said it!

You're no fool. You know when you're being flirted with. Or are you? Who said that one innocent comment is flirting? You very well might be a fool at this rate.

Beads of sweat have bubbled on your forehead. You wipe them on your forearm.

Before you know it, your section of the dining area is clean. Spotless, even. You take the rag to the back to be washed with the dishes. Glancing at the clock, a sigh falls from your lips; you let another waitress know you'll be taking your break.

Being on your feet for four hours straight left them aching. Sitting on the curb was a great opportunity to stretch your legs out and pop the muscles in your back as well. You revelled in the breeze fanning your flushed face, watching the city bustle by. People on their phones, texting or talking, bums smoking cigarettes.

You stared at the scuff marks and worn spots on your boots. Distracting. From the fluttering in your chest. What an strange feeling. Warm, exciting. Queasy. Longing. All somehow from a single touch - a mere meeting of the eyes. I must be insane.

The shrill ding-a-ling of the door brings you back to reality.

Thumps hit the door behind you. Footfalls rumble the concrete and before you process it, men come barreling out and run down the sidewalk. One takes off in flight in a wisp of blond hair. It's then you realize that was Thor, and the rest of them following in their inferiority.

Tony Stark then leisurely exits Wallflower's, hands in his pockets. As if none of that happened.

Dumbfounded. That's the word.

You raise your head to look up, since he's blocking the sun from your back. "Uh, shouldn't you be with them?" you ask with a nervous chuckle.

"Probably. But I had to make sure you got this." He hands you a small white envelope with the Stark Industries logo on it. Without another word he begins strolling away toward the others, now a few blocks down.

Huh. You already miss them. Him especially. Dammit.

You open the envelope and inside is a flat stack of green. Twenties? You count them, trembling.

A three hundred dollar tip?!

Upon further investigation, you found their plates cleaned and strewn about the table from the dramatic exit. As you took them, you looked at everyone's drawings and colorings. Peter had nearly colored a paisley print in reds and purples, Steve had began a detailed doodle of Wallflower's Diner from the outside (he never finished the sign), Thor and Tony had the absolute messiest pictures ever, and Loki.

Goodness gracious, Loki.

He'd written admiring adjectives beginning in letters that spelled your name in loopy, beautiful handwriting. He'd began drawing intricate filigree around it, but didn't get a chance to finish. You traced the designs, engulfed by the artistic quality. Overwhelmed with sudden emotion. Breathless. No one's ever done anything like that for you...

So you're not insane!

Maybe you'll reconsider taking revenge on Peter...

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