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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

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who you are (T’Challa x Black!OC)

6,281 words

A/N: Damn I wrote a lot. So I want this to turn into a series based around music, but I haven’t figured out the series title yet. It’ll come to me.

As soon as the sun peeked out over the horizon Ashanti’s eyes blinked open. It was going to be a normal sweltering January day in Wakanda, so the merchant tribe girl took advantage of the cool morning air. She threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts before putting on her running shoes and heading out into the world. She stood on her porch to stretch her muscles while she watched the sun begin to peek between the trees. Once she limbered up, she took off for her daily run around the streets of Birnin Zana. Her mind cleared as she processed her dream from the night before.

In her dream, a faceless man walked into her store and browsed for a long time before turning to face her. Ashanti was drawn to him. Her arms found their way around his neck and her lips met his. She felt a buzzing all throughout her body and her lips heated up like she had eaten hot peppers. Their breathing synched up and his hands roamed from her neck all the way down to her ass, cupping her cheeks and getting dangerously close to her dripping pussy. He introduced his tongue to her mouth and her knees buckled as she let out a desperate moan. Just as his right hand slipped under her skirt the sun rose and woke her from her utopia with her mystery man.

Ashanti kept a dream journal, and this one was one she wanted to have on record to come back to later. It felt like more than a dream, it felt too real for it to just be a dream.

Ashanti pushed through her run and made it back to her house in record time. When she walked in the door she could hear the sounds of her roommates finally rising for the day. Ashanti loved living with Kwame and Binta, and there was never a dull day around the house living with the two rambunctious fraternal twins. Both of their parents had died by the time they graduated high school, and the big empty house had been left to them. When the twins met Ashanti they had been looking for another roommate to make it feel like a home again, and it was friendship at first sight. They knew they had found a good match.

“Good morning Titi!”

“Ayy look who it is! How was the run today?”

“You wouldn't have to ask that if you’d join me,” Ashanti teased knowing damn well Kwame wasn’t one for non-sexual physical activity. Kwame rolled his eyes and shoveled more plantains onto his plate.

“Girl you know I don't do all that running mess. For what?!”

Ashanti and Binta giggled as they shared a knowing look and the older twin handed her a plate full of food that she had just whipped up while Ashanti was on her run.

The three of them had lived together since college and fell into their morning routine years ago. Ashanti would rise at the crack of dawn and go for her run, then Binta would get up and make breakfast which was somehow always ready by whatever time Ashanti got back and Kwame finally decided to join the land of the living. Ashanti asked her once how she had perfect timing every morning, and the twins responded in perfect unison.

“Magic.” “Magic.”

Ashanti never asked again, mostly because she couldn’t tell if they were serious or not. She wouldn’t be surprised either way.

Per their routine, Ashanti shoveled her food down and made her way to the bathroom for a shower. She turned on the water to let it warm up, and in the meantime she stripped down to her birthday suit and admired her body in the mirror. She had a love-hate relationship with her body for most of her life, but she found that the more she saw herself naked the more she loved what she saw. Ashanti wasn’t vain though, it was a self-esteem thing.

Once she tore her eyes away from her naked form she stepped into the falling water and just stood there for a moment letting it all wash over her. She grabbed her lemongrass and black soap bar and her loofa and went to town washing her body from head to toe.

Since she was a little girl Ashanti had a fear of singing in public, but when she was in the shower she never held back. Thankful for the soundproof vibranium-laced walls, she belted her heart out to her favorites. She even had a playlist just of songs to sing in the shower. Sometimes she would build a queue, but other times she would let the shuffle button have it’s way. This was one of those times.

This perception's got me restless I ain't dreamin' 'less you're there I supply what you require I need you like I need air You give me life with all the light you're shinin' Oh, there's no question It's evident that you would compliment the love you're not havin'

So how would you feel If I gave you somethin' real? If I told you I was serious I'm not spinnin' your wheels If I open up my heart Took a chance with you and maybe you can show me who you are

She carefully swayed her hips and sang along with Luke James, feeling every bit of the emotion in his words. The song made her feel warm inside like a first crush. That nervous yet adorable energy swirled around her as she reveled in the feeling of puppy love, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ashanti had discovered western music when Wakanda opened itself to the world, and she wanted to personally thank King T’Challa for allowing the joys of R&B and other genres from across the diaspora into her life. The melodies and the beats were reminiscent of music from her home country in many ways, and she gravitated towards the love songs, songs about heartbreak, and ass-shaking music. She needed to feel it either emotionally or physically.

She could’ve stayed in that shower for hours if she had the time, but Ashanti had errands to run and work to do.

After getting dressed for the day, she grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder before heading back downstairs. Binta was lying across the couch staring at their newly installed hologram tv in contempt. Ashanti noticed it was playing some American reality show about rich colonizers that try to look like Black women.

Binta sucked her teeth.

“Can you believe this? Why do they look like that?!” Binta half yelled at Ashanti and half yelled at the screen.

“Because, girl look at us,” Ashanti gestured at her and her roommate’s beautiful assets and they both fell out laughing.

“You heading into work already? It’s barely 8”

“Yeah, I need to get some shopping done before I open up. Be good!” Ashanti pecked Binta on the cheek before sliding her shoes on and heading out the door for the second time that morning.

Ashanti walked through the bazaar and took in the sights and smells. She made quick work of her shopping list and even with being stopped to say hello to every other person she encountered on the way, she made it to her store in record time. She loved the energy of the marketplace as a little girl growing up in the Merchant tribe. When she was seven years old her parents, Chidi and Bisa Mostafa, opened up a restaurant, Zana Cafe, smack dab in the middle of the Birnin Zana Bazaar that’s been going strong for twenty years. When the shop owner from across the street grew too old to run her art supply store she sold it to the Mostafas for a low low price. There wasn’t another shop like it in the market, so Chidi and Bisa tasked Ashanti with keeping it running.

Ashanti eventually saved enough money to buy the shop next door and she transformed the space into a combination art gallery, supply store, and amateur marketplace. She wanted it to be a space where artists of all skill levels could come together, create, and even sell their work. She sold her own handmade crystal jewelry and had a children’s section full of finger paints and fun craft projects. The kids loved when she displayed their art along the shop walls. There was even a classroom towards that back of the multi-use space she used for community art lessons.

Ashanti had named the space after the first person to encourage her art, her umakhulu Taj. She missed her grandaddy more than anything in this world, and she dedicated her creative space to his memory. People from all over Wakanda knew of Taj’s, it being the only shop of it’s kind in all of Birnin Zana.

Chidi waved at Ashanti from across the street while he prepared the restaurant for the morning rush, and she blew him a kiss before stepping into her shop, her happy place.

She closed her eyes and smiled a warm smile before drawing the curtains and letting the light in. She turned on her music and danced around the shop, straightening up as she went. She still had that same Luke James song on repeat from earlier.

Did I mention, I love tension? No more stressin' when we touch My salvation, my temptation I felt safety in your clutch (clutch) Come save me now, just stick around No, you ain't gotta stay long How you make minutes pass like seconds I feel like I gotta hold on (hmm) So how would you feel If I gave you somethin' real? If I told you I was serious I'm not spinnin' your wheels If I open up my heart Took a chance with you and maybe you can show me who you are

A chill went down Ashanti’s spine as that warm fuzzy feeling filled her once more. Her face felt flushed and she kept grinning wider and wider as she shuffled around Taj’s, sweeping all the dirt out the back door. She went to sweep her stoop when the sight of the Dora Milaje caught her off guard. It wasn’t often that royalty made their way to the market, but she knew every shop owner would be clamoring to gain whoever’s attention. She kept sweeping then opened her shop doors wide before heading back inside.

Before she could make it halfway back to her spot at the front counter, she heard the chime that alerts her when new customers enter.

“Hi, welcome to Taj’s, what can I-”, her voice caught in her throat when she turned around and saw the king flanked by two of his Dora Milaje. She noticed two more stationed at the door and looked past them to see her nosy parent across the street staring into Taj’s to get a glimpse of what's going on.

“Kumkani wam.”

Ashanti saluted King T’Challa and a deep rumbling erupted from his chest before he cracked the most adorable crooked smile.

“Please, none of that.”

____________

Mornings in Birnin Zana were always calm and quiet until about 10am when the whole city woke up and went on about their day. This wasn’t the case for King T’Challa who preferred to start his day at 6. It was the only time he could really have to himself without interruption. He would always go for a run around the palace grounds or out into the lush Wakandan forest right as the sun poked out above the trees.

Another thing people didn’t know about the King of Wakanda is that he loved to cook. As a boy he spent so much of his time hanging around the kitchen staff they jokingly put him to work one day and he took right to it. Not only did T’Challa love mornings because of the solitude, he loved mornings because of breakfast. It was his favorite meal of the day. When he was a teenager he often cooked breakfast for his family, but as an adult it’s something he only had time for sparingly. He always had a meeting or a mission or something important and unavoidable in the way.

However, today he had the time because he had taken the day off. As king he answers to nobody but Bast and the people of Wakanda...but there are a lot of people and a lot of problems to solve so sometimes the king needed a day to himself. T’Challa trusted his sister and his cousin to keep things running smoothly in his absence,and he made them swear to only contact him if the country was about to collapse.

These would be a beautiful 24 hours.

After making his way back to the palace he quickly showered and threw on some clothes for the day. T’Challa felt relaxed being dressed-down and thought about maybe doing it more often. The royal robes were so stiff.

The king slid into the kitchen with a smile on his face, humming to some American song he couldn’t get out of his head but didn’t know the words to. He scooped up some mandazi the kitchen staff had left for him and took a bite while he rummaged through the refrigerator looking for whatever called to him. T’Challa found what he was looking for and got to work dicing and mixing and grating his ingredients. He had just thrown a pinch more of cardamom in the pancake batter when his mother strolled in.

“Mholo, unyana wam!”

“Good morning to you too mother,” T’Challa chuckled at the Queen Mother’s jovial mood.

He kissed her cheek and flipped the pancakes on the griddle. He turned around just in time to catch Ramonda taking a swipe of the batter.

“Mama you should know better. What kind of role model are you for your young impressionable daughter?”

“Hush, child”

The two smiled and settled into a comfortable silence while T’Challa sautéed up fragrant vegetables, making Ramonda even more impatient. Just as she was about to ask T’Challa how much longer until they could eat, her young impressionable daughter rounded the corner looking like she had been caught in a tornado. That was the normal for Shuri, a notoriously wild sleeper.

“Good morning mother, Gap Tooth,” Shuri yawned. “ Where’s Braille?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his little sister’s nicknames and cracked eggs into the pan.

“You know that boy only shows up right when the food is do-“

Ramonda was cut off by the doors opening and Prince N’Jadaka strolled in with sunglasses on and the same clothes they saw him wearing when he left last night.

He noticed all three sets of eyes were glued to his hungover form. He was surprised when instead of admonishing him for his obviously very unroyal behavior they all broke out into laughter. He couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Long night?”

“Man you already know, we’ll talk later when there aren’t sensitive ears around.”

The two male cousins dapped each other up before N’Jadaka kissed his Auntie and little cousin on their foreheads.

“Mornin’ Auntie, Rugrat.”

“Mholo Daka.”

“Topographic map.”

Even T’Challa had to give her that one.

The family of four sat down and enjoyed the home-cooked meal of spiced plantain pancakes drizzled with honey, an egg and vegetable scramble, cheese grits, spicy sausage, and fresh fruit.

T’Challa loved seeing the look of satisfaction on people’s faces when they eat his food almost as much as his family loved eating whatever he put in front of them. It was the perfect symbiotic relationship.

After breakfast, T’Challa hung around and chatted with his family while they cleaned the kitchen. They never let him do this part, and since none of the Udakus were big on relying on the palace staff for every little thing, the prince, princess, and Queen Mother of Wakanda rolled up their sleeves to do some quick manual labor. Shuri and Ramonda washed and dried the dishes while N’Jadaka wiped down the table and countertops. He finished and the two male cousins went to take a walk around the gardens.

The second they stepped outside the palace T’Challa pulled out a blunt of the finest Wakanda kush and lit the tip. He pulled the smoke into his mouth and let it float up to his nose. He inhaled and then exhaled the smoke as he felt it take effect. He passed it to N’Jadaka and started talking.

“Last night…?”

N’Jadaka took a hit.

“My nigga...so you remember that hot lil river tribe thang I told you about?” T’Challa nodded as N’Jadaka handed him the blunt.

“So I take her out, right? Tell me why, we get to the restaurant she starts acting brand new? Turns out, this whole time we been smashing she’s trying to lock this down. So I paid for dinner and had Aneka take her home-“

“So where did you end up staying all night?”

“With the waitress.”

T’Challa stopped walking and glanced at his cousin before they both broke out into a fit of giggles.

They continued to walk and talk and pass the blunt back and forth. As they neared the palace doors the blunt had burned down to the roach. The two “went for a walk” so much they had it timed perfectly.

“So what you got planned for your day off?”

“Absolutely nothing,” T’Challa said, grinning from ear to ear. “And it better-“

“Stay that way, yeah yeah nigga I know. The Brain and I got this, go enjoy your day. Do some shit you haven’t done in a while. Be lazy. Make something. Get some pussy.”

T’Challa cut his eyes at his slightly younger cousin but couldn’t deny the truth in his statement. It had been a while for all of those things and damn did he miss them.

He clapped N’Jadaka on the back and turned to walk in the other direction.

“Good idea, umzala.”

“Which one?...Aye I know you heard me witcho supersonic hearing ass…”

T’Challa just chuckled and flipped off his cousin as he rounded the corner.

“Don’t ruin my country while I’m gone!”

“I should burn it down again just for that.”

T’Challa roamed the Birnin Zana Bazaar with his Dora Milaje for the first time in at least two years. Yes, he was a busy man with very little leisure time, but the Bazaar also held a lot of memories that the king would rather not revisit. As he passed the winding staircase he sighed, thinking of his former lover Nakia. She was off living a happy life in America with her girlfriend Janelle and their two goofy looking dogs, and he was genuinely happy for her. He and Nakia had love for each other, but they eventually realized they weren’t in love and decided to split. The memories were bittersweet.

The king decided he would pay an old friend a visit. Growing up, T’Challa only had his father. His biological mother died in childbirth, and since his father didn’t meet Ramonda until he was 12, the only mother he knew as a young child had been his nanny Ada.

She was a firecracker of a woman who never let him get away with anything, and he loved her with his whole heart. She was still an unofficial member of the Udaku family with an open invitation to visit the palace whenever she wanted. T’Chaka and Ramonda had tried to offer her a room in the palace but she refused, saying, “It’s too quiet here.” After she hung up her nanny hat, Ada became an entrepreneur. She had always loved arts and crafts so she opened up an art supply shop in the middle of the Bazaar, thanks to a hefty check from the Udakus. T’Challa used to love visiting Ada’s shop, but when she grew too old to care for it anymore she sold it and he hadn’t yet seen what became of it. He decided he’d stop by the shop before visiting Ada.

People were everywhere, but T’Challa loved the hustle and bustle of the city. Many of the past monarchs avoided mingling with the public more than necessary, but T’Chaka had taught his son the value in spending time among the people. In fact, T’Challa’s favorite part of being king is when he makes his rounds to visit all the tribes.

The king and his Doras strolled through the market, periodically stopping to converse with excited children.

They rounded the corner of the main streetway and he noticed a woman sweeping the stoop in front of what was Ada’s shop. He watched the sway of her hips and tried to read her lips to figure out what song she was singing. As he got closer he could just make out her angelic voice singing over the acoustic guitar in the unfamiliar song. She had a dreamy smile on her face that made her deep dimples come out of hiding, and when she turned around to head inside the shop he noticed the thickness of her ass and thighs.

“Bast have mercy.”

His feet automatically carried him into Taj’s, and when she turned around to face him his knees nearly buckled. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

——————————-

Ashanti felt her cheeks heat up. She couldn’t believe the king was in her shop of all places.

“My apologies, your highness,” she stammered and the broom fell out of her sweaty hand.

Before she could even reach for it, the king had already lifted the old broom from the floor. He passed it to her and when their fingers brushed against each other they both felt static in their fingertips, though neither of them broke their poker faces.

“Truly, it is not a problem.”

T’Challa tore his eyes from hers and looked around the multi-use space. His eyes and eventually his body gravitated towards the childrens’ artwork along the walls, taking it all in with an adorably crooked smile.

“How long has this shop been open?”

“Coming up on two years now...your highness.”

“No need for all the formalities miss…”

“Ashanti Mostafa, my kin- I mean, um, sir,” Ashanti stumbled over her words, unsure of how to address the royal.

“I took the day off so just call me T’Challa, Miss Ashanti,” he winked and continued around the space.

“Is Taj in today?”

“No, Taj was my umakhulu. He died five years ago, so when I got this place I named it after him because he’s the one who taught me how to draw and paint and mold clay...he shared his love of art with me, so I’m paying it forward with all this,” Ashanti gestured outwardly.

T’Challa was in awe of her. He listened to her story and walked towards the artist marketplace section of the shop. His eyes gravitated towards a golden vibranium filigree choker with an intricately wrapped garnet pendant.

“These pieces are beautiful, I would love to get one for my mother and my sister. Does the artist take custom orders?”

“They will for the king.”

“Well sometimes being royalty has its privileges. Ayo, will you get the artist’s information from Miss Ashanti here?”

Ashanti couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was almost stunned to silence. The king liked her pieces.

“Actually your hi-,” she was stopped by a playful warning look from the king.

“T’Challa, I’m the artist.”

T’Challa became more and more enamoured with the shop owner every time she spoke. She was beautiful, talented, and her aura seemed to cover everything in its reach with her warm glow. He would definitely be visiting the Bazaar more often.

Ashanti rounded the counter and fiddled with her rose gold kimoyo beads before her other designs were projected in the air in front of the king.

“I thought you said you painted and molded clay. This is certainly not that,” he leaned on the counter as his Doras shared a knowing glance.

“That’s just how I started,” Ashanti explained. “I still paint sometimes when the mood hits, but nowadays I mostly craft jewelry. Oh I just got into beading, and you wouldn’t believe how sore my fingertips are.”

In that moment it took all of T’Challa’s willpower to keep from reaching out and kissing her calloused but delicate fingers.

Ashanti unconsciously leaned in closer to the king.

“So what brought you to my humble shop, T’Challa? Bast, it feels so weird to call you that.”

T’Challa chuckled, and Ashanti nearly blushed again from the deep rumbling.

“You’ll get used to it eventually. As I mentioned before, these pieces are beautiful. I would like to commission two. What is your price?”

“Two hundred a piece.”

“I’ll give you one thousand.”

Ashanti’s eyes blinked and her smile gradually crept up her chubby cheeks. The two went back and forth for over an hour over the details of the necklaces before the king bid the shop owner adieu with the promise to return in two weeks. Before he reached the door he turned around, almost catching her staring at him.

“I forgot to ask. Miss Ashanti, do you normally play the same song on repeat in the store?”

Ashanti hadn’t even noticed Luke James’ “Who You Are” had been playing ever since she opened her doors. Her mind had been clouded by the king’s powerful aura and kind eyes, and the only sound that mattered in that moment was the smoky melody of his voice. She blushed yet again.

“I don’t normally, but something had me a little distracted today,” she winked at the king. “The artist is Luke James, one of my favorites from America. You should check him out if you like what you hear.”

Her eyes locked onto his and he smirked.

“I’ll do just that.”

---------------------------------- A week passed and both Ashanti and T’Challa had listened to that same song on repeat more times than they could count. Neither one could understand how they had become so smitten with the other in a 90 minute time span.

Even the people around them had begun to notice the changes in their behavior. Unsurprisingly, the first two to say something were N’Jadaka and Kwame.

N’Jadaka slipped into T’Challa’s office after the council meeting wrapped up. His cousin had spent the last hour settling land disputes and was in desperate need of a break. They were too busy to take a walk, so T’Challa poured two generous glasses of the strongest palm wine in Wakanda. It wasn’t enough to make them drunk since the heart shaped herb running through their veins burned off alcohol too quickly for one glass to cause any damage. They’d have to drink a bottle a piece to even start to have a good time. However, they felt the effects of cannabis and psychedelics just like anyone else.

“What’s got you smiling so much? It’s starting to get creepy, you looked way too happy during that land dispute and I know you hate doing that shit.”

“I don’t know what-”

“You're really gonna lie to me? Your favorite cousin? I’m hurt.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his least favorite cousin’s dramatics.

“You are my only cousin, N’Jadaka. And besides, I really do not know what you mean, I have just been in good spirits lately.”

“Mmmhm. You got some pussy, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“You sure? Because you're acting like you got some pussy.”

On the other side of Birnin Zana, Kwame watched Ashanti glide around the living room with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Girl I know you’re not that happy about dusting. Spill.”

“What?” Ashanti giggled. “I’m just in a good mood today, it’s been a good week at the shop.”

Kwame cut his eyes at her and pursed his lips. He didn’t believe a damn thing she said. Binta told him she had seen Ashanti humming and slow dancing in the kitchen the other day, so he knew something had to be up.

“Did you get some dick? Or some pus- nah that’s a dick face right there.”

“Who’s a dick face?” Binta came in and grabbed some coconut water from the fridge.

“Apparently I have ‘just got some dick’ face,” Ashanti responded with an eye roll.

“Yeah you’ve had it for about a week now. Spill.”

“That’s what I said, twin!”

They did their annoying twin handshake and turned back to Ashanti.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s just been a good week at the shop.”

Ashanti tried to get back to her dusting, but they wouldn’t let her.

“Nuh uh girl, get to talking.”

“B…”

“We’re waiting…”

Ashanti rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck, or so her mom would say had she seen it.

“Ok, fine! This man came into the shop the other day and had me blushing like a sixth grader with her first crush. He was just so...fine, and smooth, and sweet…”

Ashanti drifted off into a daydream while the twins sat there taking it all in. Kwame was the first to speak.

“Titi, your nose is wide the fuck open. Did you get his name, tap beads, something?!”

Ashanti couldn’t admit she had a crush on the king. For one, she was a little embarrassed because she knew how foolish she looked pining after a royal who could never return the sentiments. Secondly, if she told them she would never hear the end of it.

“Uh, his name is...Amare.”

Binta’s eyes went soft.

“Amare, I’ve always loved that name. What’s he look like?”

“Like Bast carved him out of vibranium.”

Kwame and Binta look at each other again.

“Like I said...wide open. So when are you opening those legs too?”

Ashanti tried to look busy.

“I’m uh, not sure if he’ll be back. His accent sounded American.”

She knew that would get them off her case. Ever since T’Challa announced Wakanda’s riches to the world they had opened up their doors to the Lost Tribe. For the last two years, Black people from all over the globe had travelled to Wakanda, so it would be an easy cop out for Ashanti.

“Well damn girl, you finally get a man and this is how it goes...maybe one day the king will allow outsiders to move here permanently and you can get your Prince Charming.”

“Heh, maybe. So what’s for dinner?”

——————-

Another week passed and the day had come for Ashanti and T’Challa to see each other again.

Both of them were nervous beyond belief, but only one of them had someone to confide in.

“I’m telling you, T, just be cool. Plus, you’re the king, she’d have to be an idiot to say no.”

T’Challa had planned to ask Ashanti out on a date. He couldn’t get her out of his head the whole two weeks they were apart, and he took it as a sign from Bast that she was something special.

He was nervous to see her again and he hoped it didn’t show on his face.

Right in the center of the Birnin Zana Bazaar, Ashanti fiddled with the custom necklaces she made at the king’s request. She hoped they were good enough for royalty and her nerves started to get the best of her. Her hands shook and her breathing sped up. She took a deep breath then walked out her shop and across the street to her parents’ restaurant. Her mom was the first to greet her.

“Hi honey, what brings you over to our side of the street?”

“Bisa you know the girl wants something!” Chidi yelled from the supply closet.

“Hush!”

“Hello to you too baba!” Ashanti laughed at her father’s antics.

“I’m just nervous. The king is coming back today...what if he hates them? What if Queen Mother or Princess Shuri hate them?!”

Ashanti started to get worked up again and Bisa rubbed her back in slow circles. Chidi brought her a cup of tea and the three of them sat outside the cafe in silence while she calmed down.

“Sweetie, it’ll be ok. He wouldn’t have commissioned the pieces if he thought they wouldn’t like them. And he’s seen your work, how could he not like it?! If so he’s a fool.”

“Baba! This is the king we’re talking about.”

“I don’t care! Anyone who can’t see my baby’s talent isn’t worth my respect.” He kissed her on her forehead and when he opened his eyes he noticed the women in red coming around the corner.

“Someone’s early…”

Ashanti looked confused for a moment before her mother gestured for her to turn around.

There stood the king and his Dora Milaje.

Bisa and Chidi quickly stood and saluted the king, Ashanti giggled and they looked at her in disbelief.

“That is unnecessary, please.”

“We are sorry, my king. Welcome to our restaurant, we are Ashanti’s parents. I am Chidi Mostafa and this is my wife Bisa.”

“We are so honored to have you.”

T’Challa reached out and shook their hands, shocking the older Mostafas.

Ashanti wondered if she looked this starstruck last time...she concluded she probably did.

However, this time when she stared at him she made sure to take in all his features. The faint crinkle around his eyes and his frown lines reminded her of their slight age difference and the stress of his job. His big bright eyes made him look like a puppy and his gap-toothed smile leaned perfectly to the left.

“Unfortunately I cannot stay long, I have other business to attend to that I cannot get out of. I do hope to see the two of you again, but I believe Miss Ashanti here has something for me.”

“I sure do. Mama, Baba, I’ll swing by later.”

She kissed their cheeks and walked shoulder to shoulder with the king to her shop across the street.

“I have had your parents’ food before, in my opinion it is the best in all of the Bazaar. You are very talented people, Miss Ashanti.”

She was getting really tired of blushing, but it happened again.

“Thanks T’Challa. So, um, let’s get to it so you can get to your important kingly duties.”

They shared a smile.

She pulled out two large velvet boxes and opened them. Sitting among the silk were two necklaces that were more beautiful than T’Challa had imagined.

Shuri’s necklace featured a rough sapphire gem wrapped in wire hanging from a structured v-shaped vibranium collar. The stones set in the vibranium gave the necklace an ombre look as the stones grew lighter and lighter all the way down to the sapphire. The necklace would land about mid-chest on the princess, and T’Challa just knew she’d love it.

Queen Mother’s necklace was even more intricate and more like the necklace he had seen his first time in the shop. The gold filigree collar necklace was dripping with small gems hanging from every loop, with one large ruby set in the middle.

“Miss Ashanti…” T’Challa barely breathed out.

“Oh no, You hate them.”

“No, no! Quite the opposite actually. They’re beautiful, I-I’m speechless.”

Ashanti breathed a sigh of relief.

“As I mentioned before, you Mostafa’s are very talented…and beautiful.”

Ashanti gasped. There was no way…

“My king?”

“What? It is true. You are a very beautiful woman Ashanti, among many other things.”

That damn song started playing in her head and her smile pushed her dimples deeper the larger it grew.

“Thank you, T’Challa. You’re...alright looking.”

They both had to have a laugh at that one.

“Just alright?” He leaned in closer to her across the counter.

“Hm, maybe”

“Will you let me change your mind?”

“How would you do that?” She asked, leaning closer and getting a whiff of the cocoa butter on his skin.

“If you’d accompany me for a night out tomorrow evening I could show you.”

Ashanti froze and backed up. For a minute there she almost forgot who he was, but she had to remind herself that he wasn’t just a cute customer. He was the king, and he had to have been out of his Bast-given mind.

Unless this was something he did often.

“My k-, T’Challa...If you are looking for someone to play with and discard, I suggest looking elsewhere. I’m sure there are plenty of your subjects lined up in waiting for the bachelor king to swoop them up.”

Ashanti immediately regretted her words, but they just seemed to tickle T’Challa.

“Miss Ashanti, I am not that kind of man. I believe you have me confused with Prince N’Jadaka.”

Ashanti snorted. She had heard many stories about the prince and sort of assumed all royals behaved in such a manner.

“Besides I am much too busy to play the field since becoming king. Had you known me 5-10 years ago it would’ve been a different story.” T’Challa winked and noticed her look away to hide her smile. She remained silent.

“Please, it would bring me great joy to see you again. If not I will leave you alone. Just think about it.”

He tapped his black and purple kimoyo beads to her rose gold ones.

“There, now you have my contact information. It’s my direct line, please feel free to use it.”

With that he turned and left the shop. Ashanti had to pinch herself to make sure she was awake. After a minute it started to sink in that the king of Wakanda had asked her on a date.

“That really just happened.”

She stood there in a daze and was only pulled out of it when a customer walked into the shop.

“Welcome to Taj’s!”

—————

Chapter 2

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa #t'challa x oc #playlist

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marcholasmoth · 3 years ago

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OSRR: 2636

today was a pretty good day. it started out with class and talking to an SAS advisor for accommodations for classes, and i took a shower and went to pick up nick so we could head down to the con together. i learned on the way that he watched bleach?? and is familiar with the music???? which was fuckin rad for the ride down because we talked theme songs and sang along with my playlist the whole way down. i love havin my bro around. he's cool.

got in, checked in, went and grabbed badges, ran around for a while, camped out in jess's office to just chill out and wound up putting together staff folders and helping with the paperwork, ran around some more, checked in, went back to jess's office to talk to my student, was online with her for an hour or however long with her, went and had some frustration with where things were for painting fans, eventually got in the swing of it because there was a shitload of anxiety all day about it, made friends, talked to people, had a good time, cleaned up a bunch, cleaned up everything (which took two and a half hours to do), wondered in the meantime where the fuck my dinner was, sat back in jess's office when i was done, felt myself on the verge of a breakdown because it was 11pm aka my bedtime and i still hadn't eaten anything so i went to grab more things from con ops, and then went to the green room and had a breakdown in the corner behind the bar. kianna sat with me while i cried and told her about my predicament, but all things considered, only one person didn't get food, so statistically speaking that's good. it just sucked that it was me, who is alone staffing crafts, who also has a tendency to not eat ever, that it was who didn't get food. so.

kianna grabbed me things to munch while i calmed down and i was really appreciative of her thoughtfulness and consideration, and having someone i was familiar with and comfortable with being the person i needed to talk to made it a lot easier to go in and say "hello i require sustenance," unlike last time, when i didn't even know where the green room was until the night before it was over. the same thing happened then, too. i guess it's just always me. i should plan for it next time.

sigh.

anyway, i hung out with kianna and company for a couple hours and then came back to the room where i chatted with dean for half an hour or so until joel came in, and now he's resting next to me and the poor angel is so tired. i just adore him. i'm glad he's helping run this shit because i could never. thank you, love.

oh! i also made a new best friend today! he's our artist, who does all of the art for the con year after year. he sent a message to jess later in the day asking, "is my new best friend one of lisa's kids??" i laughed so hard.

overall, con good. me hungy, but all good. i hav breb.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #2000s #2600s #sunshine boy #i'm so tired

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years ago

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And I Love Her

Harry Styles x OFC

Warnings: drinking, mentions of substance abuse

A/N: I have a lot of fics I'm working on at the moment. I have so many ideas I just can't keep them in my head. I hope you guys enjoy this one. Please let me know, the feedback is always appreciated. Much love to you all

The summer of '92 in Seatle Washington was like some weird fever dream. Nirvana was hot, everyone smelled like teen spirit and the dirtier you were, the sexier. We partied all night, slept all day, didn't give a fuck about the man and smoked all the pot we could get our hands on. I crashed on friend's couches or slept under the stars when it was nice. The freedom of having nothing to tie me down was intoxicating and I ate that shit up. So when my best friend Anna asked me to go out with her to see some bands at a local bar, I didn't hesitate.

It was a shitty little bar. But I guess it was supposed to be. It was the 'aesthetic' of the day.

My best friend Anna tugged me along behind her. The music was loud, the makeshift stage upfront holding a band that looked like they were plastered and played just about as well. The singer crooning into the mic about losing someone they loved and how life was a bitch. Didn't we all know it too.

Anna pulled me to a booth, out of the way of the small crowd that had crammed into the bar to hear this band play. People thrashing and head banging, twisting their bodies and writhing to the music. Red lights set an ominous glow, the smell of booze and weed filling my nostrils.

I slid into the booth beside her, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She ordered two shots from the waitress that came by while I fiddled with my lighter.

"I thought Shannon and Reggie were meeting us here." I said loudly in her ear. Christ you could barely hear anything over the dude screaming on stage. I rubbed my temples, a slight headache forming.

"They are. But they had to work. Said they'd walk over after....not everyone can live off of painting and commissions." I rolled my eyes. I was a visual artists. I did a lot of abstract and weird art. You'd be surprised by all the people that are willing to buy the craziest shit. There's a lot of weirdos like me out there.

The waitress came back with our shots and I downed mine immediately, ordering a beer behind it. Anna sipped hers, don't ask me why, she always did shit like that. I was getting ready to say something to her about the band playing when I saw him. He came in through the front door and my eyes immediately landed on him.

He had long curly hair that looked as though it hadn't been brushed or washed in weeks. He wore a baggy plain black shirt, ripped blue Jean's and what looked like jet black Doc Martens. A green flannel draped over his shoulders and sunglasses draped on his head. If I had a type, he was it.

He was with a group of people. Anna was talking in my ear but I couldn't hear her, entranced by this good looking man who was now making his way towards our booth.

"You look like a prince." I smirked as he walked by, stubbing out my cigarette. The boy stopped, turning to look me up and down. A wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Would a prince do this?" He grabbed me by my forearms, pulling me to the ground and flipping me onto my back. The floor was soaked in beer, my dress instantly wet as I squirmed beneath the boy above me. He grinned triumphantly as we rolled around, wrestling against each other.

"Stay down." He commanded, pressing my wrists into the floor. I smirked up at him, shaking my head.

"Never." He licked his lips.

"You're a fighter....I like that." His accent was thick. His words rolling off his tongue like poetry as he spoke. It had to be English. His voice was low and deep, his words slow, enunciating every word.

"You have no idea." He stared at me for a moment, eyes leaving my face, trailing down to my chest, I squirmed again only to have his grip on me tighten before his eyes snapped back up to mine.

"Sassy one aren't you." He let me go, getting off of me and helping me to my feet. "Sorry about that love...I really couldn't resist." His shirt was wet with beer, his hair matted and pressed against his cheek and neck. "I hope you stick around for the rest of the show."

"You playin'?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Could be....gonna have to stick around to find out." He reached out, wrapping a hand around my wrist and pulling me towards him again. "If you do decide to stay, meet me in the hallway after the set yeah? Wanna see just how much of a fighter you are." He winked at me before letting go, leaving me breathless and blushing.

What in the fuck?

"Tabbi, you know who that is?" Anna asked me with wide eyes. I shrugged, climbing back into the booth, my dress soaked and reeking of the spilt beer that had lathered the floor. "That's Harry Styles."

"Okay?" I said, glancing up to see him conversing with the band setting up on stage. "Is that a big deal or something?" she looked at me like she couldn't believe I didnt know who he was. it was annoying really.

"He's in the band about to play. One direction and...." she leaned forward across the table, trying to whisper now. "He's just....there's a lot of rumors about him. I'd steer clear if I were you." I wasn't impressed. I thought maybe she wanted him and was jealous of our little flirtatious action a minute ago. I rolled my eyes.

"Come off it Anna. It was just a little harmless flirting. Nothing more...."

Anna didn't say anything else, our attention turning to the stage as the soundcheck was coming to an end. Girls screamed endlessly as Harry stepped forward, guitar slung around his shoulder, a confident smirk on his face.

They opened with a number called 'Little Black Dress.' Wasn't really my style but I listened, observing the band as they played. The short, lanky bassist, covered in tattoos, the drummer with the arrow tattoos on his arm, he was cute too. The blonde one playing guitar alongside the boy I had wrestled-Harry.

And boy did he know what he was doing. Once the song ended and they started 'Stockholm Syndrome' his movements became so sexual. He stroked the mic stand with his fingers, loosely twisting his wrist up and down it, grinding against it, licking his lips, winking and sending kisses into the crowd. The men seemed to love it almost as much as the women.

"Hey guys!" Reggie and Shannon showed halfway through the set. I waved half heartedly, still intrigued by the boy commanding the stage. The music wasn't my favorite. But damn if he wasn't a great performer.

"She was wrestling with Harry Styles." I heard Anna telling them what had happened. Reggie called my name but I ignored him in favor of the band. I wasn't going to explain myself. I hated judging people based off of what other people told me about them. I'd rather find out for myself.

I decided not to meet him after the show. It was true, I was attracted to him. But he was going to have to work for it.

We were standing outside, huddled in our group, smoking and talking about the music when I felt an arm snake it's way around my waist.

"Left me in the hallway. Tsk. Tsk. What a tease." My stomach flipped and I gasped as his fingers slid just beneath my t shirt, just enough to trace over the waistband of my Jean's. I turned to see Harry, his pupils were blown, the green of his eyes only slightly noticable, giving his eyes a soft glow. I smirked, leaning in close, eyes darting to his lips before looking him in the eye.

"Don't you know? It's all about the chase." He chuckled, running his hand through his hair. His fingers glinting with the rings on them when they caught the streetlight.

"The thing is...I don't chase baby." He looked me up and down again, sighing heavily, as though he were bored. "You'll come to me when you're ready for me."

"Harry-" I gasped, a blonde girl shoving me back as she threw herself at Harry, kissing him hard on the lips. I rolled my eyes in disgust, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart and the disappointment in my stomach.

"Hey," I turned to see the bassist, the other one with a shit ton of tattoos. He smiled at me, holding his hand out. "I'm Louis. Sorry about Camille. That's Harry's girl."

"No worries. I'm just glad I didn't hit the pavement." He chuckled.

"Can I bum one?" He asked, watching as I pulled out my cigarettes. I held the pack out to him, he took two, stuck them in his mouth and lit them at the same time.

"Neat party trick." I teased. He shrugged.

"Nicotine addiction. You know."

"Lou." Harry's voice was low, his tone darker as he shouted at his bandmate. Camille had her arms wrapped around his shoulders, he had one hand wrapped around her waist. "We gotta go. Get a move on yeah?" Louis smiled at me sympathetically, pulling a crumbled piece of paper from his pocket.

"My number....I'm havin' a party at my place in a couple days. You should come through. I like meetin' new people. Be cool to hang." I check out of the corner of my eye and see Harry watching me closely, nostrils flaring as I stick the piece of paper in my bra, giving Louis my most seductive smile. Harry wasn't going to win me over. Not that easily. Like I said I like the chase.

"Cool. Maybe we'll swing by."

"Tommo." Harry said louder, a warning beneath his tone. Louis shook my hand again.

"By the way," he asked, before letting go, "what's your name?"

"Tabbi. It's Tabbi." He smiled, bringing my knuckles to his lips and kissing them gently, his lips were soft and he was sweet.

"See ya later Tabbi." I looked, just in time to see Harry look me over once more, licking his lips before walking away with his bandmate and his girl. I kept hoping in a small way that maybe he'd look back.

He didn't.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles serial killer au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #hs imagine #hs fandom #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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thehighlandhealer · 4 years ago

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Trick or Treat, Cont. || Charleson, Bronwyn, Lirim, Aedan, Rory, & Cynthia || October, 2020

Lirim: Lirim tossed his phone onto the table, smiling apologetically at his son. Their first outing with Charles. His first, that is. Bronwyn was another story.

"He said five's fine," Lirim called to Bronwyn. Paint was much more manageable than makeup, in his opinion. His son's whiskers, made of his mother's eyeshadow, would survive the next few hours. Aedan wouldn't care or much notice. His ears were free. When was he going to develop a tail?

Bronwyn: “Five it is!” Bronwyn called back. She was deep in her makeup drawer looking for a tube of eyeliner that seemed to have disappeared. “Why didn’t I draw the whiskers on with eyeliner, they’re goin’ to smudge. Oh! Marie and Lydia have asked us to stop by their houses. No one in this city will have better treats.”

Lirim: "You won't go touchin' your face, will ya, Aedan? Some settin' spray and you're ready to hit the town."

Lirim perked, looked over the mass that was his son's curly hair. "Oh really? Haven't seen them in ages." He hadn't seen much of anyone outside of the art gallery, so no surprise.

A thought occurred to him. Shit. "Guess that means I'm seein' Mason again."

Bronwyn: “Aye, darlin’, it does. Ha!” She returned to the room a few moments later with the eyeliner and her setting spray. “But don’t worry, ev’ryone will be on their best behavior. Includin’ him.”

Lirim/Aedan: Xavier's uplifting words rang in his memory as reminder. He didn't have to be afraid of him. Not anymore. Just confounding that anyone spent any amount of time with that demon.

He didn't have room to judge, considering his favorite Atlas, but he would.

Aedan was about having his fill of this face touching. The squirming had begun.

"Patience, puppers!"

Bronwyn: “I’m almost done, lovey.” Bronwyn made quick work of touching up Aedan’s whiskers before telling him to close his eyes for the setting spray. “There, all done!”

Lirim: "Ya know he's gonna have a fit when ya try and take that off." Oh well. It was just one night. His son was certainly no artist, putting up with the smell of makeup was easier than paint, and it was for a good cause. He didn't have whiskers and he wanted them.

"Alright, Toto, all done. Ready to meet Dorothy?"

Bronwyn/Aedan: “It won’t be so bad. Just one wee little makeup wipe and it’ll come right off.”

Aedan gave his mother a skeptical look but the excitement over the candy he would soon have won out.

“Yeah!”

Lirim/Aedan: "I shoulda gone as the Big Bad Wolf, Miss Riding Hood."

"Wolves are good!"

And Aedan wouldn't hear otherwise. "You're absolutely right. He just had an image issue." Bronwyn was given a look.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. An image issue and questionable manners. Daddy should’ve gone as the Big Good Wolf.” That last added with a teasing look.

Lirim/Aedan: His parents were given a look. The look of a child aware but unable to articulate. Instead, going on about how he wanted a candy apple on a stick.

"You got it, Toto."

Bronwyn: “I think—and I’m no’ positive or anythin’—but I’m pretty sure Auntie Lydia is makin’ candy apples with red caramel.”

Lirim/Aedan: Aedan's eyes couldn't have been brighter.

"Oh boy, Toto's gonna need a leash."

And off their son ran across the house screaming.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. “Oh, aye. I probably shouldn’t tell him there are also goin’ to be cookies.”

Lirim: "Shhh. He'll be in a sugar coma before eight."

Bronwyn: “Eight?” she chuckled. “Aren’t we bein’ optimistic. My money’s on seven.”

Lirim: "That's better than eight. What ya wanna bet?"

Bronwyn: “Hmmm...” She tapped her chin. “Dinner.”

Lirim: "What ya want?"

Bronwyn: “Shrimp and grits with an ungodly amount of cheese.”

Lirim: "Homemade or restaurant?"

Bronwyn: “Homemade. What do ye want if ye win?”

Lirim: "I want... to paint you."

Bronwyn: “Paint me or paint me?”

Lirim: "I mean paint on your body in my studio."

Bronwyn: “It’s a bet. What do ye want to turn me into?”

Lirim: "We'll have to see. Been a long time."

Bronwyn: “Aye, it has.” She smiled and kissed Lirim’s cheek. “Ye can turn me into anythin’ ye like.”

Lirim: "Maybe I've some ideas. In the nude, of course."

Bronwyn: “Well that goes without sayin’. What’s a little nudity after ye’ve impregnated someone.”

Lirim: "Oh?" He laughed. "Speakin' of 'fore I get ahead of myself, how's the Viking?"

Bronwyn: “Still tall, stoic, and handsome. He got a kick out o’ my costume.”

Lirim: "They don't do Halloween in Iceland?"

Bronwyn: “Iceland kind of does a wee, Torsten doesn’t do it at all.”

Lirim: "Makes sense, I guess." Lirim looked in the direction of their son. "And he's good with Aedan?" Hundredth time asking. "He should... be here. He's gonna have a lot more Halloweens."

Bronwyn: She nodded. “Aye, he’s good with Aedan. I asked him to come with us but he’s in Iceland at the moment, takin’ care of some family business.”

Lirim: "Do ya want Aedan to call him dad?"

Bronwyn: “I want Aedan to call him whatever feels right to him.”

Lirim: "Ya'd think I'd be used to it. I mean he already -" He'd stop right there. "Anyway, Charles should be here any minute."

Bronwyn: She kissed his cheek again. “I love ye, Lirim Vivaldi. Ye know that? There’s no timeline on gettin’ used to it.”

Lirim: "Love ya too, Mama B. Ya know he calls ya that when we're alone? Totally picked it up from Lucien I know it."

Bronwyn: “He does?” Bronwyn positively melted at the sweetness of it all. “That’s adorable! And he absolutely did and I’m no’ surprised at all. I love bein’ Mama B.”

Lirim: "He asked about Lucien a few days ago. Didn't realize how often they were together."

Bronwyn: “Aye, the magic of teleportation. I’ve been wantin’ to learn it, I feel bad havin’ Vincent go back and forth so often.”

Lirim: "Can't be easy. I mean, that's why it belongs to familiars, and... demons."

Bronwyn: “Ye’re right. Avalbane is over three hundred and she can’t do it.”

Lirim: "Shit. What's she got over ya, though? Spells wise, I mean."

Lirim turned to the foyer mirror and adjusted his hat.

Bronwyn: “Sheer volume o’ spells. Decade upon decade of experience. That spell she used to help us with Aedan? It’s so obscure she found it on a stone tablet.”

Lirim: His smile softened. "Just had a conversation about that, actually, with Xavier Atlas." He watched for her reaction.

Bronwyn: She didn’t quite frown, but there was a definite tightness to her smile at the mention of that man.

“Were ye indeed,” she said as casually as she could. “Does he get his magic from stone tablets as well?”

Lirim: "I imagine if Xavier Atlas were reborn today, he'd be that bookworm child that turns into a mage. Or a mad professor. Or a politician. Can't really pin which."

Bronwyn: “Or held in a federal prison for tax evasion.”

Lirim: "I mean," he laughed, "they're not saints, but they're hungry, Atlases."

Bronwyn: “That’s definitely one way to put it. Do ye see him often?”

Lirim: "Nah. First time in...years."

Bronwyn: “Was it a good visit?”

Lirim: "I needed it. Been meetin' up with a few people I lost." He gestured to the front door. "Charles included."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn reached for Lirim’s hand and gave it squeeze. “Well for that, I’m glad. It’s nice to see ye returnin’ to yer life, spendin’ time with people ye enjoy. Ye’re like a flower bloomin’ after a long winter.”

Lirim: "Only a druid would say that," he laughed. He felt like he'd been doing more of that lately.

Bronwyn: He had and it had not gone unnoticed. It was such a welcome sound.

“It’s true! Ye’re our angelic flower.”

Lirim: Lirim shook his head, rubbed his cheeks with both hands. "Alright, Ridin' Hood, ya all set to go?"

Bronwyn: “All set. I’ve got ev’rythin’ we can possibly need in my basket.”

Charles/Rory: Charles gave a single nod, indicating that Rory could, indeed, be the one to ring the doorbell. He did so with great enthusiasm, before Charles guided him gently back.

Lirim/Aedan: Of course. The doorbell was piano keys, after all. This didn't have to be a child for someone to go to town on it.

"Someone's playing music!" called his son.

"No, I got it!" his father laughed, opening the door less than a moment later.

"Hey, fam!"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn would appear at Lirim's shoulder almost instantly, greeting their new arrivals with a radiant smile.

"There they are! Come in, come in! Look at ye, ye look great!"

Charles/Rory/Cynthia: Charles was all smiles for his friends, tipping back his pointed hat to more easily press a kiss to each of their cheeks.

Rory and Cynthia both were happy to see Bronwyn, Dorothy and a little Tin Man stepping forward for hugs they knew were coming.

"Hello, hello! Rory, Cee, this is... Mr. Lirim Vivaldi." He'd leave it up to the man himself to decide how he wanted to be addressed.

Lirim: "Hi!" The old saying of loving only your kids was relevant to Lirim; he didn't feel like a natural around other people's children and doubted he ever would. But these were Charles'. He got on a knee to shake their hands. He then called to Aedan to greet them.

Bronwyn: The children already knew her very well; they'd both be kissed and given a good squeeze that stopped just shy of mussing their costumes. Their father would be given equal treatment.

She smiled as Lirim greeted them, taking the opportunity to grab her camera from her basket and start snapping pictures.

"I can't get over those costumes! Ye're all so precious I could eat ye right up. Smile for the camera!"

Charles: Charles was not nearly so averse to being photographed as his husband, but there was no need to capture his ridiculous witch's costume for posterity. With a wry smile, he nudged his children gently toward where Aedan stood. "Let's get one of the kids together. Following the yellow brick road, and all that."

He had a sunny smile for Bronwyn and Lirim's son. After all, he did not share Lirim's opinions on other people's children. He'd certainly have chosen the wrong bloody profession, if he did.

"Nice to see you again, young man. You've gotten so big!"

Lirim/Mason/Aedan Mason lagged behind, still warding and locking down the townhouse just a few feet away. His hooded masked figure cut an intimidating silhouette compared to the others. By design, given the city. This was his city and his people, but this was his family, and a priority. He would be watchdog tonight. No doubt with Charles' ability, danger would not survive twenty yards.

Aedan began explaining his costume, as though it were required. Toto for Dorothy! With a bark as real as his dark brown ears perked tight with excitement.

Lirim adjusted his son's curls and returned to his feet. "He really has." The naphil stilled at the sight of the demon, taking a breath. A nod of acknowledgment.

Bronwyn: There was every need to capture Charles' witch costume for posterity and that was precisely what Bronwyn was going to do.

"Aye, let's! Ev'ryone move in closer and give me a big smile!" She snapped a couple of photos of the kids and a couple more of Lirim and Charles. "Mason!" she called. "Come see the cuteness!"

Charles: Charles was not the least bit concerned about the evening. Nor did he believe himself, Bronwyn, and Lirim incapable of defending against any unlikely danger. But he welcomed his husband's presence, all the same. He smiled fondly as Aedan went into the details of his costume. They really were an adorable trio.

"Are we ready to begin? We're following your lead, here."

Lirim/Mason/Rory: "Little terrors in disguise!"

Rory looked back to his father. "Nah uh!"

Lirim locked the door behind them with a flick of his hand. No one around to notice. "Start here and go counter-clockwise, then Coverdale?" he looked to Bronwyn for confirmation.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn mapped the proposed route in her head and nodded. "Sounds good to me! Ev'ryone stay together now, and if ye hear a verra cranky poodle, just walk on by. She only barks if ye give her attention and if ye give her attention she tries to bite ye."

Charles: Charles laughed openly, adjusting his hat as it slipped. "She sounds delightful. I'll keep a wary eye. Do you lot want to leave a bowl of candy out for any kids that come by?"

Lirim: "Last time I did the whole cauldron was gone!" Lirim laughed.

Bronwyn: "I'm convinced that kid who thinks he's James Dean and his mates took the lot."

Charles: "There's always one."

Lirim/Mason: "Should I?"

Mason was already off with the children to the nearest house on their side of the street.

Bronwyn: "We can, if ye like. It's still early, there's a chance bargain bin James Dean won't show up for another couple of hours."

Charles: "I like to, when no one's around to answer the door, but it's your bowl."

Lirim: "Out of that giant school? Not even a maid?"

Lirim unlocked the door with another flick, glanced at his son and ran inside for a jack-o'-lantern bucket, filling it with tiny bags of Reese's Pieces.

Charles: "In Cameron, or wherever else. There's always someone at the school."

Lirim: "Cameron?" The bucket placed. Lirim picked up the pace to join his son.

Charles: Charles followed closely behind, catching a speeding Rory as he returned from the door with chocolate in his once-empty bucket.

"Careful! Mhm. My husband has a house there." For now, anyway.

Lirim: Charles was given a quick glance. "Do you see it as a home, despite being a school?"

Charles: "I do. It's been my home for a long time, now. Well, our home. It'd just be an old house, without everyone else."

Lirim: "Funny, what we put stock in." He flicked his wrist back at the townhouse behind them. "Raised there. Was in stasis after my folks; lived with my Mema. Then it was mine again. Thought about gettin' rid of it, but there's too much in it. Don't have it in me."

Charles: He nodded, glancing at the house briefly, before turning back to watch his children sprint off to the next house. He buried the impulse to ask them to slow down. "I understand that. I might've sold the old place, if we hadn't needed it. And then the idea for the school took root in my head and I couldn't dislodge it. I'd never part with it, now. Means too much. And not only to me. I'll likely pass it on, though. When the time comes. To someone I trust who shares my vision."

Lirim: Lirim nodded, watched his son, his son's mother, the demon.

"Someone like that exist, or still lookin' around?"

Charles: "I imagine it'll be one of my staff. Possibly one of my students, when they're old enough and experienced enough. I'm not opposed to passing my legacy along to my children, but I suspect they'll forge their own paths." He snorted softly, mostly to himself. "Perhaps we need one more."

Lirim: A statement which put a smile on the naphil's face. They were indeed different.

"Got the parental itch for more, huh?"

Charles: Charles lifted a shoulder. "I wouldn't call it an itch, but I'm certainly open to the concept."

Lirim: "Do they all feel like your children?"

Charles: "Yes and no. I love them. And I feel deeply responsible for their wellbeing, of course. I am. But it's... different."

It seemed a poor word to describe the depth of devotion he felt toward his own children, but he couldn't think of a better one, presently.

Lirim: "Never taught anyone anything until Aedan. Can't relate." He adjusted his coat, face contorting with thought. "I take that back. I mean, I walk people through what I do in the studio, but that's -" he waved away his words.

"Anyway."

Charles: "I think I've always wanted to be academic. Teaching or learning. Teaching feels more useful." Less selfish. "Would you ever consider teaching art?"

Lirim: "People gotta learn, someone's gotta teach." But that being said, he scoffed. "Hell no. Probably hang myself bein' asked the same questions all the time. But! That's why people like you exist."

Charles: Charles laughed, a bright sound that carried on the early evening air. "It's not so awful. But, perhaps you're right. 'Those who can't do,' and all that. We should catch up with the children."

Lirim: Such sound paired well with Charles' emotion.

"I get the sayin', but I don't get how that applies to someone like you."

Charles: "Someone like me?" He raised an eyebrow, casting a half-smile at Lirim as he began walking just a bit quicker, slowly narrowing the distance between himself and his family.

Lirim: Bronwyn had gone ahead, probably for his old neighbor. Still, he didn't want her to feel alienated from the conversation. Not that he'd felt anything of the sort; he was thinking too much.

"Ya know. A genius."

Charles: Charles gave a soft little snort and shook his head. "I know geniuses; I'm not one. I'm merely studious. I've spent more than half of my life in a classroom. More than that, I suppose, if you count being on the opposite side of things."

Lirim/Mason: "Just didn't wanna leave the classroom?"

Mason glanced back at that statement, expression well hidden behind his mask.

Charles: He gave a soft laugh, head tilting ever so slightly at his husband. "I suppose not."

Mason: "Why him?" Mason whispered to Bronwyn.

Bronwyn: “Why him what?” Bronwyn whispered back, snapping another picture of the children. “Also which him?”

Mason: "Your him. Why him as the father?"

Bronwyn: "The real question should be why me as the mother."

Mason: "Not even the fuckin' question. Of course you."

Bronwyn: "I was originally a surrogate, remember? He picked me."

Mason: A growl of response. He hadn't appreciated that, either, but such was in the past.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nudged him. "Hey now, why the growlin'?"

Mason: "I don't like the idea of ya bein' used."

Bronwyn: “Mason.”

Mason: "I know."

Bronwyn: She squeezed his arm. "No one used me. I offered o' my own free will and I'd do it again."

Mason: "Does he remember the other one?"

Bronwyn: "We both do," she said softly. "And fuck him right to hell."

Mason: "The kid remembers the wolf?"

Bronwyn: “Oh, never mind I thought ye were talkin’ about Lirim.” She shook her head. “No, we don’t think so.”

Mason: "Has he asked why y'all don't have ears?"

Bronwyn: Another head shake. “No’ yet. He thinks ev’ryone has them.”

Mason: Mason looked back to Charles. With no expression to give with a mask, his arm opened, offering warmth instead.

Charles: Words weren't necessary, and in this instance facial expressions were superfluous as well. Charles understood the offer for what it was and hurried to accept, closing the distance between them more swiftly and pressing himself against his husband's side. There was no skin available to kiss, so he settled for grabbing the hand that wrapped around him.

"Looks like they're getting on well."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn couldn't help but smile at them. They looked so happy; she didn't need to be able to see Mason's expression to see that.

"Aren't they just? They're so sweet," she said, snapping another photo of the kids. "This is a good bondin' activity for them."

Lirim/Mason: "Really glad he's able to have this. Sooner rather than later he's going to be with more of his people. Just need to set a date."

"Away with the druids?" Mason's question directed to Bronwyn. Charles' hand given a squeeze.

Charles: "It is," he agreed, with a nod. "They ought to spend more time together. It'll be good for all of them."

Charles turned his attention toward Lirim, still keeping pace with his husband. "Oh?"

Bronwyn: She nodded. "Yes to both. No' away as in away, but away as in goin' across the pond to learn with some other wee Druids."

Lirim: "Not like there's an angel academy. I want him with his people. He just happens to have more than one set of people."

Charles: "That's wonderful. I'm sure he'll enjoy himself. You'll both be going with him?"

Bronwyn: "It'll definitely give us an excuse to drop in on my family in Scotland more often. My grandda Owen loves Lirim's art."

Lirim/Mason: "Definitely goin' with him. I wanna see everything."

"They aware of everything he is?" Mason asked.

Charles: "Mm. That'll be lovely for both of you." He glanced to his husband, though the face he loved was hidden by that mask. "We should visit Scotland, after the house is built."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Mostly, aye. They know he's a Druid and they also know he's no' only a Druid, but I figured it was best that they hear the specifics from both of us in person."

Mason: "Your gran'mama gonna be there?" Of all those in her family, that woman he could trust. He didn't think highly of the half-angel among them, but that little boy running about with his son was a part of Bronwyn. Under his gray wing of protection.

Charles: "Mm. Such conversations are best had face-to-face. I'm glad you'll be seeing your family, soon." He only wished he had more family for his own kids to know.

Bronwyn: Another nod. "Aye, she never misses a chance to see Aedan or Lirim. Always asks about ye," she added with a smile over at Mason.

"I am, too. I always enjoy visitin' home."

Lirim/Mason: Lirim simply listened. What he felt from Mason was palpable like a humid summer afternoon. Forced trust through others was never real trust. This they could both agree.

"Next time, call me," Mason said, adjusting the hard plastic mask. Too long since he'd laid eyes on the woman that harbored his secret.

Bronwyn: "Aye, I'll do that, and I'll also remind ye to get her some flowers for deprivin' her of yer company for so long."

Lirim/Mason: "She tell ya s'what she wanted?"

"I didn't know he'd met your family," Lirim laughed politely.

Mason quickly brushed his fingers over Charles and Bronwyn's arm, walking ahead to check on the children. Rory and Aedan standing still, negotiating over some undesirable candy.

Charles: Charles kept pace with the remaining adults, but his gaze did skate frequently toward the children.

Bronwyn: "Years ago," Bronwyn said with another nod, smiling after Mason. "Back before I adopted Lucien, when I was...goin' through a wee patch."

Lirim: Lirim cast her a quick look, one of mild confusion, before nodding. "Mm. Feels like yesterday we all met."

Charles: "Does it?" Charles laughed softly. "Feels like it's been a century. I suppose that happens when everything you think you know about the world gets turned on its head." It was as though he could divide his life into two clean hemispheres.

Bronwyn: "I'm with Lirim. It feels like Aedan was still a baby five seconds ago. Feels like I was meetin' Lirim ten seconds ago. Time is a right old bastard."

Lirim: "When I'm with y'all it goes by like that," he snapped his fingers. "When I'm alone time stands still. Great for paintin'," he chuckled.

Charles: Charles pulled Lirim into a brief half-hug. "We should do this more often. Not Halloween, obviously, but the rest."

Bronwyn: "The kids would love it if Halloween came more often," Bronwyn laughed. "But, aye, we should. It'll be good for them and good for us."

Lirim: Lirim was pleasantly caught off guard by the random bit of affection. His smile blossomed.

"Absolutely. I'd love to get some paint on both of ya."

Charles: He lifted an eyebrow, chuckling. "On? As in a living canvas? Or do you want to see me struggle to form a decent stick figure?"

Bronwyn: "I personally would love that."

Lirim: "Now I wanna see the stick figure, but I mean literally on ya."

Charles: "Trust me, you don't. But my skin is at your disposal, sir. I've never been painted on."

Lirim: "I dunno what's stopped me, but it won't stop me now."

Charles: "Good. I'm looking forward to it."

Bronwyn: "It's settled then. Lirim will paint ye and then ye can wow us with yer stick figure paintin'."

Lirim: "What'll ya be doin' while I'm paintin' and he's stick figurin'?"

Charles: "An excellent question. I don't want to be alone in my artistic pursuits."

Bronwyn: "Bakin' probably."

Lirim: "So we get the smell of fresh baked bread mixed with acrylic and oil? Tasty."

Charles: "Sounds like a party. I've never been able to resist baked goods."

Bronwyn: "I've been wantin' to make some potato bread. Found a recipe that looks promisin'."

Lirim: "I'm gonna end up usin' brown and yellow paint and forget everything else."

Charles: "I love potato bread. Now, I'm starving." He was going to have to enact a dad tax on those sweets. "Rory! Cee! Have you gotten any Paydays?"

Mason: Mason looked back, wriggling a small PayDay - all sweets were small these days, weren't they? - before tossing in Charles' direction.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. "I'd be curious to see what magic ye can create usin' only yellow and brown."

Charles: He made a valiant effort to catch the candy, but it tumbled out of his grasp. With a sigh, he bent to retrieve it. Still good. "Thanks, love."

Lirim/Mason: 'Ya didn't play catch as a child,' his husband guessed, smiling through his mask as he turned back to the children.

"Challenge accepted," Lirim grinned. His pride as an artist on the line, he must! Already had ideas.

Bronwyn: "Oh yay!" she chuckled. "I'm definitely makin' potato bread while ye paint in hopes that ye turn Charles into a really beautiful artistic potato."

Charles: 'I did not,' he confessed, popping the little candy into his mouth and tucking the wrapper into his pocket to dispose of, later. He flashed a quick smile. 'I was more of a tree-climbing, bug-catching boy.'

With a snort, he shook his head. "Oh, yes. I've always wanted to be a potato. Dreams do come true."

Lirim/Mason: 'Of course you were. For science.'

"Not a potato! Maybe a uh... maybe a glorious sunrise," Lirim smiled.

Bronwyn: She just could not stop laughing. The mental image she'd conjured of Charles painted like a potato was tickling her pink.

"Aye, that would be lovely. Really anything ye do will be lovely."

Charles: 'For science,' he chuckled at their private conversation.

Charles pressed a kiss to the side of her head. A potato, indeed. "Perhaps not the dream, but I'm willing to be a sunrise as well."

Lirim: "Could paint ya both. Sunrise and sunset. Maybe a full moon. Yellows, browns, blue, black and white..." Annnnd he was going off on his own tangent.

Bronwyn: "And I'm more than willin' to be a sunset. Go crazy, darlin', we'll be yer muses. Won't we, Charles?"

Charles: He nodded, thoughtful. "I've always wanted to be an artist's muse."

Lirim/Mason: "No one’s ever drawn ya? Written a poem? Love letter?"

Mason picked up the pace to his children.

Charles: Charles lifted his shoulder. He wasn't heartbroken. "I've received very touching text messages?"

Bronwyn: "With that face? I'm sure there have been people who've drawn ye and written ye letters, even if they never sent them."

Lirim: "I can see that. Takes guts to give that up. Easy to make em, though."

Charles: He gave a soft laugh. "It's a flattering thought. I suppose we'll never know."

Bronwyn: "Aye, it does. I remember writin' a few letters myself when I was young and shovin' them away in a drawer somewhere."

Lirim: "Still around, maybe? My Mema had this book, had all sorts of love letters - and break up letters - from history. Went back two hundred years, I think."

Charles: "Oh, that's fascinating! Your own little piece of history!" He was delighted.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Aye, they should still be in my old bedroom somewhere. My mama didn't really move anythin' around."

Her face lit. "That's lovely! Does she still collect them?"

Lirim: "Probably. Some of em got published in a book about the same thing. Y'all want a copy?"

Charles: "I'd love one!"

Bronwyn: "Absolutely, I would, too. And ye're both welcome to my letters if I ever find them."

Mason/Rory: The children kept their energy for only four blocks before becoming distracted with their sugary treasures, talking to each other, and complaining of the cold. Despite the chilly wind, Rory, for the first time, refused a piggy-back ride from his father. Not in front of company! But he would ask to make smores, and for hot chocolate with pumpkin marshmallows.

Charles: Charles gently tugged on one of Cynthia's braids, holding out a hand for Rory's empty wrappers. "Done with trick-or-treating already? We can head back, if you'd like. Or home?"

Bronwyn: "I'm with Rory, smores and hot chocolate sound really good right now."

Bronwyn bent to pin back Aedan's hair to keep it out of his eyes. The wind was wreaking havoc with those curls.

"What do ye want, lovey?"

Mason/Aedan/Cynthia/Rory: "Can I have hot chocolate?" Aedan looked to his mother hopefully.

Cynthia was ready for warmth; Rory was ready for a chocolaty feast, which also translated to home.

Mason turned his son around, patted his back. "March."

Charles: "Back it is, then." Charles would not raise protest. He was always ready for warmth, but more importantly, this evening was about the children. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Bronwyn: She smiled and nodded. "Aye, but ye have to promise me to drink all the tonic I make ye first, okay?" Being part werewolf, Aedan's sensitivity to chocolate was always something they had to be aware of. Luckily, it was mild enough that with the right magical precautions, it didn't hinder him from enjoying it completely.

"Did ye get a good candy haul?"

Lirim/Mason: Mason watched in mild amusement as the children spoke at once, bedding down the urge to correct what was quickly becoming rising voices as they compared candy and bargained chocolate versus everything else.

"Gimmie a Twix before ya give em all away, child," said Lirim.

Charles: Charles slipped his hand into his husband's, similarly allowing the children to enjoy themselves without scolding, on such an evening. "Are we going to the party, or turning in for the night? If not, I'll ring Ro and let her know."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed at the chorus of excited voices. Oh yes, it had definitely been a good haul this year. "Aye, a Twix for daddy and a cherry Jolly Rancher for yer mama."

Lirim/Mason: "We'll go t'the Moon if ya want," Mason said. The mask was removed once reaching their street. Placed on Rory's head, grinning at his son's scowl.

Lirim unwrapped his candy and stuffed the wrapper in his pocket. A quick cheers with Bronwyn before popping the whole thing into his mouth.

Charles: That face! He turned to kiss it, briefly. "Oh, yes. A trip to the moon is definitely in order. Perhaps for Christmas."

He spotted the empty cauldron that told of their arrival and laughed. "Gone, already! I hope at least some of the little kids got candy." Charles had a bag stashed at Mason's, just in case they were around if trick-or-treaters dropped by.

Bronwyn: She cheers-ed Lirim back with her Jolly Rancher and took Aedan's hand, continuing to discuss his candy and how cherry was clearly the superior fruity candy flavor.

The empty cauldron had her grinning from ear to ear. "That didn't take long at all!" she chuckled. "If that James Dean kid took his chance, it'll be the only one he gets. Candy's bein' handed out personally now that we're back. But first, tonic and hot chocolate. Ev'ryone take yer wrappers to the trash."

Lirim/Mason: "Make yourselves at home," Lirim smiled, dropped his hat as soon as they were in the door. Easily made a mess again with a quick swipe of his hand. "Pretty much a mirror image, right?" More colorful than the sharp white and neutral palette next door.

Something paused Mason in the doorway.

"Gonna have'ta get rid of that," he hummed, "'less ya wanna take my head off."

Lirim seemed dumbfounded for a moment before it clicked, eyes widening. "Right. Two sec." The many wards placed by - no matter. He'd assumed they'd faded, and then forgotten them completely.

"Bronnie, ya remember which board it was?"

Charles: His eyebrows vanished behind chestnut fringe for a moment. "No, we can't have that. I do prefer you with your head attached, dearest." And he'd stick by his husband's side until the wards were lifted.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn had forgotten them as well, mostly because she'd placed so many of her own.

"It's the one with the scuff mark from my high heel. Three boards to the right o' the bookshelf."

Lirim: "Got it." He'd almost got up for the kitchen, for a butter knife, before remembering his own damn abilities and pulling up the board with gentle coaxing from his hovering hand.

"There it is," he sighed. An unassuming brown bag no bigger than his palm.

"Is this really a ward, or a charm? I forget the damn lingo."

Charles: Charles gave Mason's hand a gentle squeeze. "Head safe? And the rest of your bits?"

Bronwyn: "It's a hex bag, they can be multipurpose. Let's put it somewhere out o' the way for now. I'll dispose of it properly later."

Lirim/Mason: "I'll put in the backyard." Seemed far enough, since being in the floorboard hadn't taken the demon's head living one wall away.

The children had already taken to the kitchen. Mason could hear gasps. A moment later seeing a fluffy white cat flee upstairs in a panic.

He held his hand out. A lack of static as Lirim excused himself to the back door. Fucking angels.

"Head's safe," he confirmed, stepping inside.

Bronwyn: "Don't scare Pancakes, lovies!" Well, one of them would be receiving a swipe at the ankle at some point this evening. Pancakes would require some soothing.

"Aye, verra much so. Sit, sit. What would ye like, what can I get ye?"

Charles: "Remember how it was with Frankie, in the beginning," he called to his children. "Be patient and don't harass the cat!"

He shook his head, fond, and took the offered seat. "I'm quite all right, darling. Thank you."

Lirim/Mason/Aedan: Lirim was laughing at the sight of Jude. The patient older tabby, accepting his fate in Aedan's arms, carried about with dangling legs.

"Y'all gonna say no t'some wine? What about some," what the hell was this, "pumpkin liqueur? When'd I get this? Was this you?" he asked Bronwyn.

Mason stood beside Charles for a beat, hand firm on the back of his neck, massaging. He separated long enough to find the children.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn looked at the label on the bottle. "Oh! Aye, it was me. I wanted to make an adult pumpkin spice latte. It was bloody good too. I want to try it in pumpkin pie."

Charles: "I'll never say no to wine." A statement that was perhaps a little too true. "Or pie."

Lirim/Aedan: "I do have a chocolate... mud... pie... thing. S'got some cake crumbled on top like dirt and -"

"GUMMIES!" Aedan shouted. "Mama! Can I - Can we have some?"

Bronwyn: "Let me make yer tonic first, then ye can have some. It won't take long, promise." She didn't want an upset stomach ruining his Halloween.

Luckily, she kept all the ingredients on hand and was able to get it going fairly quickly. "Do ye want me to mix it in water or in juice?"

Charles: "Sounds interesting. I can't say I've ever tried that before." But chocolate was chocolate. He reached out for the minds of his family. Where had they gotten off to?

Mason/Aedan: "Apple juice, please." Better manners around company, Lirim noted to self. That was usually the case.

The children had surrounded the cat tower and released Jude, who took to cleaning himself just out of reach at the top. The children were bored within moments.

"Put y'all's candy on the table. We'll go through em," said Mason, casting a quick glance to Lirim. Chocolate pie and red wine. This was turning into an absolute gem of an evening, Lirim thought.

Bronwyn: "Okay, I'll mix it with apple." She kissed the top of his head and got a jar. Time was she would've gotten a bowl and whisked everything together but shaking it until it was mixed was easier. And faster.

Speed was of the essence today.

A few herbs, a few mysterious liquids, and a little magic later, Bronwyn was pouring her concoction into a cup of juice and handing it to Aedan. The tonic made it take on a curiously orange color but the taste wouldn't be altered too much. It would be as if some strong, unsweetened tea had been added to it.

Charles: Charles smirked, but left them to their piles of sweets. Lectures about cavities and thorough tooth-brushing could wait until bedtime. "Can I help with anything?" he asked their host.

Lirim: "If ya wanna help me cut up some pie?" offered between grunts of effort as he argued with a corkscrew and a rather large bottle of zinfandel. Last time he tried to pull a cork via telekinesis had resulted in both a broken cork and bottle. His patience was not made for such delicate work.

Charles: "I think I may be better suited to opening wine," he offered, laughing, and stood to lend a hand.

Lirim/Mason: "He has a gift," said Mason. "If there's alcohol, he can open it. No safe too secure, no lock too strong."

"In the case," Lirim offered the bottle. Corkscrew far too deeply embedded.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn left them to the wine while she got the hot chocolate going, keeping one eye on Aedan to make sure he drank all the juice.

"If that is indeed the case, then Charles, there's a bottle o' scotch in my pantry that seems to have been welded shut. Yer help would be appreciated."

Charles: "Hilarious." He fixed his husband with a very dry expression before turning his attention to the lodged corkscrew. "Goodness." It took a bit of coaxing, but Charles really was a magician of bottle-opening. With a triumphant grin, he set bottle and cork on the table a minute later. "I'd be happy to help, Bronwyn darling."

Lirim/Mason/Aedan: "Lucien been gone that long ya gettin' your whiskey stuck?" Lirim laughed. There were only two Fera in existence which didn't frighten him to his core. Lucien was family, as much as he had fought tooth and nail.

Aedan handed his cup to his father, ready for his hot chocolate.

Mason settled between his children at the glass table, stealing another PayDay for Charles, and a swirly lollipop to bite like a heathen for himself.

Bronwyn: "It hasn't been stuck as long as that," Bronwyn chuckled, putting all her tonic ingredients away. "I was makin' somethin' with it and I'm pretty sure some caramel got stuck in the threads o' the bottle that I forgot to wipe off." That was her theory anyway.

Charles: He had to wince. Could a demon chip a tooth? He didn't know, but it just wasn't right. 'Heinous.' He smirked at his husband before plucking the candy from his hand. "Thank you." He fiddled with the wrapper.

"Bit of warm water should do the trick, then," he said to Bronwyn. "At least, that's how I get syrup bottles open." He thought idly of how perfect a stack of pancakes would be.

Lirim/Mason: Lirim glanced Charles' way, wondering what it was he was borderline yearning for. Maybe he didn't want to know. Sexual desire seemed to just exude from the two of them. Inspiring, but he was grateful to not be telepathic.

Mason watched his husband with challenging eyes, taking another slow performative bite.

'Should see me with jawbreakers.'

"Ffffriggin' hungry," Lirim sighed, catching that particular word split second. "Who wanted pie?" A few small plates had been filled. Ones for the children half size.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn grinned at Lirim. Nice save, she mouthed to him.

"I'm pretty sure we all wanted pie. I definitely do, and that hot chocolate. Is there such a thing as too much chocolate in one sittin'?" Probably, but it was Halloween! It was a day for treats.

Speaking of.

"I need to go refill the cauldron for any more kids we get."

Charles: 'You're a madman.' He shuddered at the very thought, but the lightning flash of a grin gave away his amusement. He popped the little candy into his mouth and bent to give his husband the briefest of kisses. They were guests, after all. Manners make the man.

"Not in my opinion, but I'm hardly an authority. I can fill it, if you'd like. Or start on the hot chocolate?"

Lirim/Mason: "You'll have chocolate every day, but hell hath no fury if it's spicy."

Lirim looked up at the couple, impatiently chewing and swallowing before speaking. "For serious? What about a chocolate martini? Or a mudslide?"

Bronwyn: "No no, it's fine. I'll get the candy."

She went to get the bag, only to poke her head back in a few seconds later. "Are chocolate martinis bein' made? If so I want one!"

Charles: His nose wrinkled in undisguised distaste. "Of course not. Spicy chocolate is an abomination." Charles lifted a shoulder. "I don't mind a splash of bourbon in my hot chocolate."

Bronwyn: "What's this spicy chocolate ye keep mentionin'?" Bronwyn asked the room at large. "Spicy like chilies or spiced like mulled wine?"

Lirim/Mason/Rory: "I mean I want chile-chocolate melted n'put in my mouth," said Mason. "With cinnamon."

Rory's eyes lit up. That was exactly what he wanted.

"I got a habanero in the fridge?"

Charles: Ugh. Corrupting the children. "I'll settle for whipped cream, if you have it."

Bronwyn: "There's a sweet shop near my store that has all kinds of chocolate. I'll bet they have chile chocolate."

Lirim/Mason: "Still open?" Another PayDay was swiped from the pile, now divided into three among the children. Cynthia had traded most chocolate for bubble gum.

"That pastry shop?" Lirim asked. "Oh! I got uh, Cool Whip?"

Charles: "That'll do," he nodded. All this talk of peppers had him needing a balm.

Bronwyn: "No, no' that one, although I have been meanin' to go into that pastry shop. The sweets shop is in the opposite direction, next to that maternity store I shopped at when I was pregnant with Aedan."

Lirim/Mason: Oh fuck, the memories. Both Lirim and Mason were staring, and both looked away almost simultaneously.

"Hot chocolate with cinnamon, then. Chocolate dipped peppers when home." To the delight of their son.

Plates were each given forks, and a cabinet opened of its own accord, so it seemed. A pot floating to the stove.

Charles: Charles lifted an eyebrow at that little exchange but said nothing. He finally claimed a seat and a plate to go along with it.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn noticed it as well, and though she had a clue as to the cause, she filed it away to ask later.

And there was the doorbell.

"Candy time!" Off she went to hand out treats.

Lirim/Aedan: Aedan ran off to help his mama, and Lirim only glanced over his shoulder before looking back at the cocoa powder, milk, and small jar of cinnamon. As though he'd never made this before in his life.

"Thinkin' hot chocolate and a chocolate martini."

Charles: "Do--" He chewed and swallowed a mouthful of pie before making another attempt. "Do you need a hand?"

Lirim/Mason: Lirim slowly looked back with apologetic eyes. "Aedan drinks Ghirardelli with peppermint because God only knows why. I dunno how to do it up fancy."

Bronwyn: "He knows it's the superior combination," Bronwyn said as she returned with Aedan in tow. "Don't ye, lovely? Chocolate and peppermint all the way."

Charles: Charles stood, pushing his plate closer to his family in case any of them wanted to finish his barely-touched dessert. "It's hot chocolate, my friend. It hardly needs to be fancy." He took a place beside his host at the stove. He was no cook, but warm drinks were a skill he'd mastered. Enough milk for everyone was tipped into the saucepan to heat.

Lirim/Mason: Peppermint? Rory was making a face. One Aedan had made at the idea of spicy chocolate. Mason was smiling at Bronwyn.

"I don't do fancy, but I didn't figure y'all'd want the Aedan special," Lirim chuckled.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn just chuckled, returning Mason's smile as she bent to kiss his head.

"One of us wants the Aedan special," she said, taking a seat at the table. She'd probably end up standing to get the door many many times before the night was out but in between she wanted all the time she could get with everyone.

Charles: "Oh, well, no peppermint for me, thanks. I'm a cocoa purist." He leaned against the counter while he waited for the milk to heat.

Lirim: "Purists go first, then." He looked around the room. At this blend of two families. He never would have imagined something like this years ago. Couldn't even imagine his son. Sometimes he still couldn't get over it.

"Happy Halloween, y'all."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn caught Lirim looking around and smiled. She wondered what was going through his head but judging from his expression, it was only lovely things. As it should be at moments like this one.

"Happy Halloween indeed!" she said brightly as the doorbell summoned her once more.

Charles: "Fair enough." He lifted his head in the following silence. Charles, too, was curious, but not enough to go digging. His mouth curled into a smile and he nodded. "Hear, hear!"

#Trick or Treat chapter #lirimvivaldi #aedanvivaldilynott #masonatlas #askprofessorx

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authorgirl1111 · 4 years ago

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A/N Hey. New chapter hope you enjoy it!

Cut into multiple parts because the actual chapter was like 30+ pages. Hopefully the rest of the chapters won't be that long.

Question: Would you all prefer to have long chapters given to you in one update or cut up into smaller segments? Let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy

Chapter 2 part 1: Meeting the Slayer

Meeting the Slayer Part 1

Buffy nodded absentmindedly as Xander and Willow talked about how they buried The Master's bones before she turned back to Xander. "Anything else?" She asked desperate to get as far away from the topic of the Master and last May as possible.

"Outside of that the only other thing of interest was someone ran over the 'Welcome to Sunnydale" sign last week," Xander said with a shrug. "Should have seen it, the thing looked totaled."

"Oh yeah, I noticed that while we were driving in," Buffy said as they walked along. "What happened?"

"Dunno. happened sometime during the night, the running theory is that someone got tired and weren't being as careful as they should have been."

"They find out who did it?" Buffy asked looking straight ahead.

"If they did the police are keeping quiet," Willow said. "You don't think it could be vampires, do you?"

Buffy sighed. "I don't think so," She said. "You said it was a week ago? Most vamps don't wait a week to start creating carnage. You did say the vampire we just fought was the only one seen all summer." She stepped away suddenly tired and desperate to be as far away from the subject of vampires as possible. "Well, I should probably get home, clothes won't unpack themselves."

"Oh," Willow said looking a bit upset. "Well ok then see you."

"Oh, come on," Xander said. "Unpacking can wait an hour or so can't it?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not this time." She said.

"You should at the least contact Mr. Giles about the vampire," Willow said.

Buffy scrunched up her nose. "I'll see him in school." She said before she walked off.

The dream wasn't a cohesive narrative. Just a wave of images she couldn't stop, and Aisling in the center trying so hard to ride the wave and fighting against the need to just push them away.

Aisling could only hear, and feel, and see snippets as all the memories rushed past. Throughout the sequence, the same verse of a song she had never wanted to hear again played itself over and over.

Fire, so much fire- unable to get out-

"Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa-

"Close your eyes Aisling."

"Go mbristear do chosa bean Pháidín-

"Release him- "

"Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa-

The sounds of bones cracking-

"Go mbristear do chosa 's "do chnámha-

"Precious doll- "

"Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa-

The flash of steel, a cut wrist-

"Go mbristear do chosa bean Pháidín-

Blood, so much blood

"Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa-

"They're dead Bit"

"Go mbristear do chosa 's do chnámha-

Carrying her father to their hotel as he bled from his wounds-

Over and over and over again they played in her head, snippets of the worst moments of her life, with that song playing in the background. As the images and sensations passed by her and the song replayed its final verse (Her favourite verse) curled in on herself and covered her ears and shut her eyes, waiting for it all to end.

***

Aisling opened her eyes as she shot up from the bed. She looked around, and took a deep breath, and put a hand on her heart.

It was racing. She winced her dad might have been severely weakened from Prague, but his five senses were still so much more superior than hers. She took a deep breath and tried to will her heart rate to slow down.

When she was confident that her heart was beating at such a rate that her father wouldn't ask questions, she pulled off her covers and slid out of bed.

She shook her head trying to clear her head of the dream, her therapist had told her that change could bring back the nightmares and a change that was brought about by a traumatic event would make it all the worse. She'd dealt with this before, she'd had to move because of dangers before, she could handle this now-

Knowing that did not make her feel better and didn't stop her from focusing on the fact that it was different now. Her father had never been so severely injured before. If something went wrong; if her name on the rental agreement wasn't enough to keep vampires out…

"Princess?" Spike called through her closed door.

Aisling jumped and turned her head she hadn't realized that she hadn't moved. "Yea?" She asked crossing her arms.

"Can I come in?"

Aisling turned toward the windows in time to see the sunrise. "Wait!" She called climbing over her bed and hurried to the window. For a moment she took a second to stare at the sunrise before she pulled the curtains as hard as she could over the windows. When she was satisfied that no sunlight could get through, she walked toward the door and opened it. "Hey, da'."

Spike's stood on the other side of her room his eyes lingered for a moment on the three scars that ran down the length of her arm. She looked down.

"Your heart rate spiked – twice." He said. "Are you ok?"

"First day o' school," Aisling said attempting to wave him off. Her accent had lessened over the years, but it still came out on occasion "You know how it is."

Spike leaned against her door frame. "Are you sure?"

Aisling stared up at Spike and looked away. "Yea."

Spike stared down at her for a long moment. "You know you don't have to pretend with me, right?"

Aisling shrugged. "I had a nightmare – but I'm fine. I get them every time I change schools. It's… fine." Inwardly Aisling winced at the repetition.

Spike raised his eyebrow, which emphasized the scar on his left eyebrow. "Is that right?" He asked.

"Yea," Aisling said. "I need to shower." She said walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out her housecoat. "Can you move?"

Spike rolled his eyes and moved out of the way. "Don't think we're done talking about this missy."

"There's nothin' to talk about," Aisling said. "And shouldn't you be restin'?" She asked.

"I'm fine at the mo'," Spike said.

"Uh-huh," Aisling said. "And you accuse me o' pretendin'?"

Spike glared at her. "Just- just go take your shower.

Aisling laughed before she disappeared into the bathroom.

***

An hour later, she exited her room, her curly black hair was tied back in a ponytail, her nails painted almost blood red. Her clothing consisted of dark blue jeans and a white tank top. Her large round dark blue eyes stared up at him questioningly.

"You look good," Spike said taking a sip from his cup of warmed blood.

Aisling smiled her-the corners of her lips turning upward. "Thanks, Da'" She said softly.

Spike smiled and walked forward and kissed her on the forehead. "You're welcome." He straightened and turned toward the kitchen. "Now have some breakfast, I'd rather not have your first day of school be ruined because you fainted after not havin' eaten."

Aisling chuckled and shook her head. "I've gone without it before," Aisling said as she went to sit at the kitchen table. "It's not a problem."

Spike sighed as poured out some cereal and some milk into a bowl and slid it over to Aisling.

"Eat, and don't forget your meds."

"Aye aye," Aisling said as she scarfed down her breakfast. When her bowl was empty she pushed it away and stood and left to the bathroom to take her meds.

The minute Aisling was out of sight he dropped his head onto his arms suddenly tired.

Or, well, no it wasn't sudden, he'd been feeling tired since Aisling entered the kitchen, but he hadn't wanted her to worry.

He wanted to drive her to school this morning – first day and all that, but now he didn't know if had the strength to make it downstairs, let alone drive Aisling to school.

He didn't know how long he was like that when he felt someone's hands on his upper arms.

"Come on," Aisling said gently pulling him up. "Bed."

"I'm fine Ash."

Aisling nodded and smiled softly. "It's fine, I promise."

"It's tradition," Spike argued.

Aisling sighed. "I know, but this isn't my last year of school, there is always next year. Besides, you and I both know that you aren't a stickler for tradition anyway."

Spike sighed. "It's different when it's you."

Aisling squeezed his arm. "Rest, I wanted to walk to school today anyway."

"Alright." Spike gave in. "I do love you, Princess."

Aisling leaned forward and they both kissed each other on the cheek. "See you later," Aisling said waving as she walked away. "Get some rest."

***

Finding the school wasn't hard. She had seen it several times over the past week as she explored the town. She knew exactly where she had to go to get there even if she had chosen to walk.

The problem however was finding her way into the principal's office. She had no idea where it was and the school had called her on Friday to let her know that she had to be at the office to pick up her schedule, documents that needed to be signed, and that the principal wanted to have a word with her.

Aisling had a feeling the principal wanted to talk to her about the number of schools she'd been to. He wouldn't be the first principle concerned over the number of times she'd had to move around.

Still, the class was gonna start soon and she still had no idea how to find the office. She looked around for someone to ask and spotted a girl with long brown hair and bangs held back with a hair clip. She had on a light blue sleeveless shirt with a white and black striped skirt and white heeled shoes.

Given the confidence, she was exhibiting it suggested that she was the alpha especially with the way all the other girls were hanging off her every word. She straightened the black leather jacket that she was wearing fixed her hair took a deep breath and walked forward as confidently as she could.

"Art and buildings? I was totally beachless for a month and a half. No one has suffered like I have. Of course, I think that that kind of adversity builds character-" She heard the girl say as she walked up to her.

"Uh 'scuse me?" Aisling said with a light wave. "Sorry to interrupt but I'm completely lost."

Aisling could feel herself getting measured as the resident alpha looked her up and down.

"Nice shoes." The girl said sounding vaguely impressed. "And that leather jacket is tres chic."

Aisling couldn't hear any lies in her tone and decided to take her at her word. "Thanks. Sorry for interrupting, but I'm lost, and I desperately need to find the office to get my schedule and papers to be signed." She said, "I'm Aisling by the way, I'm new."

"Sure…" The girl said before she started rattling off directions. Then her eyes caught hold of someone a couple of feet away. Aisling turned her head to see who Cordelia was staring at and saw a man with dark hair and a receding hairline, who appeared to be about as tall as Aisling and kind of reminded her of a Ferengi. "Or you could just talk to Principal Snyder there," Cordelia said pointing off.

"Ah," Aisling said. "looks strict."

"Yeah, word of warning, he hates students." She said her voice low to avoid being heard.

"Like bad at hiding, he hates students, or gleefully lets everyone knows he hates students?" Aisling said her voice equally low.

"Leaning towards that second one." The brown-haired girl said.

Aisling pursed her lips and nodded. "Ah, might as well get this out of the way, thanks," She said starting to walk off then she paused and turned back around. "I'm sorry I didn't quite catch your name."

"Cordelia Chase." The brunette said with a wave. "See you around."

"You too."

***

"Might as well be talking to myself," Snyder said Aisling watched as two adults walked away from him and had to bite her lip from chuckling.

"Principal Snyder?" Aisling stepped in with a smile. "I'm Aisling-"

Snyder glared at her and Aisling found her smile wilting.

"Can't you see I'm-" Snyder said turning around and noticing that Mr. Giles was nowhere to be seen. "Talking to someone…"

"My apologies," Aisling said bowing her head slightly. "But I was told that before I head to my first class this morning, I had a meeting with the principal. Who, I was told, is you."

"Least you aren't transferring halfway through the year," Snyder said walking away from her, Aisling walked up after him. "Unlike another troublemaker student."

Aisling wisely kept her mouth shut.

Snyder walked ahead of her, occasionally pulling students out and warning them to 'spit out that gum', 'tuck in that shirt', and at least once to 'stop laughing.'

Oh yeah. Aisling thought sarcastically. This is gonna be fun.

Snyder led her through the school to the principal's office and opened the door and lead her through it.

"I see you've moved schools quite a few times, Miss Pratt." Principal Snyder said when she entered.

"I have." Aisling nodded.

Snyder narrowed his eyes at her. "Any particular reason why?"

Aisling shrugged. Cause I live with a vampire who hunts demons for a living?

"Dad and I don't like being tied down to one place for too long," Aisling said giving the usual answer she gave when asked that question.

Snyder's eyes narrowed. "I can sense you're a troublemaker, Miss Pratt," Snyder said leaning forward over her file. "I don't like having troublemakers in my school. Since there's nothing in your record that suggests delinquency I'll just have to settle with letting you know that I'll be watching you very closely – understand?"

Aisling bit the inside of her cheek to keep from losing her temper.

"Now Ais-ling," Snyder said with a slightly smug smile. "Anything to say before you pick up your schedule?"

Aisling fought demons, vampires, and entire mobs of human beings. Principal Snyder in comparison was a small man, who liked acting tough to compensate for his small demeanour.

Still. Getting kicked out of school on the first day was not a great way to start the school year.

"No Sir." Aisling said paused and then decided 'screw it'. "Except, really – it's pronounced Ash-ling." She said before she jumped out of her seat and ran out the door before Snyder had a chance to yell at her.

***

Buffy sighed as she sat in class vaguely aware of the new student that walked into class and sat just in front of her after having spoken to the teacher for a moment.

"Hey." The girl said her hand outstretched. "I'm Aisling; I'm new." She had a slight accent that Buffy had trouble placing.

Buffy forced a smile on her face. "I'm Buffy." She said taking the proffered hand.

Aisling's eyes became questioning before she sat turned to pay attention to class.

Buffy tried to pay attention to class like the good student she was supposed to be, but she found herself without the energy, her mind constantly drifting to other topics. Memories and feelings that she didn't need or want, but still they came at the most inopportune time.

For the entire day, she found herself unable to concentrate only barely able to be present when Ashlyn-or whatever her name was-asked her a question about the assignment the teacher had set, as well as a question about where the library was located.

She could tell that the newbie was aware that she was distracted but outside of giving a fake smile there wasn't anything else Buffy was willing to do to prove that she was fine.

So instead, she did something else – she tried to alleviate her feelings by forcing herself to think about something else.

"So…" She said "Newbie huh? Where from?" Buffy asked after class as the new girl walked along beside her. Willow and Xander keeping pace on the other side.

"Well, I was born in Ireland," Aisling said indirectly telling Buffy where her accent was from. "But I've lived in America for years, recently moved here from Los Vegas."

Xander chuckled. "That must have been interesting."

"What did your parents do there?" Willow asked curiously.

"My dad's a private contractor and a writer," Aisling said with a smile.

"So, he doesn't work in a casino," Willow asked.

Aisling rolled her eyes. "No, though he has gone there from time to time to play poker."

"Your dad a big gambler?" Xander asked.

Willow's eyes widened and hissed "Xander!" In a low shocked voice.

Aisling shrugged. "He likes to play, and he's good." She said then smiled gently. "He's responsible."

"That's good," Buffy said distractedly.

"Everything alright?" Aisling asked turning her attention to Buffy. "You seem…" Aisling looked around trying to find the right word.

Buffy jumped and turned around. "Oh – yeah." Buffy scoffed waving her hand. "I'm fine."

Aisling sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Rough summer?"

"No! No…" Buffy winced at her defensive nature "Is it that obvious?"

Aisling smiled sympathetically. "Me too," Aisling said. "Dad got awful hurt while the two of us were vacationing. Ended up having to cut our vacation short."

"Sorry to hear that," Buffy said. "Is he better?"

"What happened?" Xander asked.

"Took a bad fall." Aisling said before changing the subject. "Do you know where the computer science room is? It's my next class."

"Oh yeah, Willow takes that class," Buffy said pointing to Willow.

"You a computer whiz?" Willow asked brightly.

"Oh no, but it can't hurt to learn how to use them," Aisling said waving toward Willow. "Get the feeling that knowing how to use them is going to beneficial in the future."

Willow stepped forward. "Well, I can show you where it is!" Then she became hesitant. "That is- if you want me to?"

Aisling smiled and linked arms with Willow. "Please, newbie here, any help given to me by anyone would be welcome. Especially after the lecture, I got by Snyder just before class."

"Lecture?" Xander stepped in Buffy herself leaned over intrigued. "Ooh, what happened?"

"He… was concerned over the number of schools I'd been to in the last few years," Aisling said. "Thinks I'm a troublemaker, just because I've moved around a lot." Aisling rolled her eyes.

"Moved around a lot?"

Aisling nodded. "Yeah, Born in Ireland, moved to America when I was around 8, and dad moved us around. Neither of us like being in one place for too long."

"Ireland?" Buffy asked. "Guy I know's from Ireland."

Aisling looked impressed. "Fellow Mick huh? He go to school here?"

Buffy paused and suddenly looked as though she wished she'd never brought it up. "Uh No. He doesn't. So anyway Ireland huh? That must be fun."

Aisling nodded. "It is. Dad and I go back there every other summer, was supposed to go there this summer, but I changed my mind last minute," Aisling said, Buffy vaguely noticed that Aisling's eyes went slightly distant at that, but before Buffy could even think to comment on it, Aisling shook her head and continued. "We take turns choosing summer vacation destinations every year. I usually choose Ireland, but decided on Prague…" She paused and looked around at everyone staring at her "and I accidentally revealed that dad and I have a lot more money than most people, here didn't I?" Buffy wondered what the look on her face must have been because Aisling immediately looked uncomfortable. Buffy tried to smooth out her features.

"Only by the fact that you can apparently afford to leave the country every summer," Xander said with a sarcastic grin.

Aisling winced.

"It's fine." Willow jumped in. "Not unless you're the type to flaunt it, like a certain queen bee we know."

"Cordelia Chase?" Aisling asked. "Met her before class, she pointed out Snyder to me."

"Be warned she'll only put up with you until you threaten her status – then she'll drop you like a hot potato."

"Yeah, I've been to enough schools to know how most Queen Bees work," Aisling said. "The last school I went to, her daddy owned one of the top casinos in the Strip… and was a major benefactor to the school, needless to say, that girl was the walking definition of untouchable."

The bell rang.

"Shoot," Willow said linking arms with Aisling. "We're late, we gotta go, Bye Buffy, bye Xander." She said before she hurried off with Aisling.

"Uh bye!" Aisling said as Willow ran off with Aisling in tow. "See you later!"

"Bye!" Buffy said waving as Willow and Aisling hurried off.

***

"So… I hate the principal." Aisling said into her phone as she sat outside during Lunch a half-eaten sandwich in her hand. "But other than that…"

Aisling heard a tired chuckle on the other line. "You've had bad principals before. We're generally able to sort them out by Parent-Teacher Night."

"Yeah, but their hatred of kids and teens wasn't so… blatant. It's both refreshing and weird." Aisling said taking a bite out of her sandwich deciding not to bring up if Spike would even be well enough to head out to PT night.

"You alright?"

Aisling nodded her mouth full of food that she quickly swallowed. "Yeah, I can handle an awful principal."

"Good," Spike said. "I mean not good but…"

Aisling chuckled. "I know. It's fine, I only need to worry if I get sent down, and I'm really good at not having that happen."

"Just be careful, alright? You're over a Hellmouth. It's not just students and teachers you have to worry about."

"I know," Aisling said taking a bite out of her sandwich. "I have lived on one before y'know."

"Don't remind me." This time Spike sounded bitter.

"Wasn't so bad," Aisling said. "Can confidently say that I have, in fact, lived through much worse."

"Amazingly, that's doesn't make me feel any better." Aisling could almost hear Spike rolling his eyes at her.

"Aisling!" Aisling looked up as she saw Buffy, Xander, and Willow walking toward her. She smiled and waved as the three walked toward her.

"Who was that?" Spike asked.

"Just some people I met in class," Aisling said. "I Gotta go. Try to get some rest. I'll see you when I get home alright?"

"Your making friends?" Spike sounded almost thrilled at the idea.

Aisling rolled her eyes, for a vampire her father could get so weird about the most human things. "Possibly, I'm not sure. I gotta go, I'll tell you more when I get home."

"Fine," Spike said. "I love you, princess, alright?"

Aisling smiled. "I'll talk to you later." She said just as the three students walked up to her.

"Love you."

"Love you too," Aisling said before she flicked her phone closed. She looked up and smiled at the three of them. "Fancy meetin' you here." She said. "What can I do for ya?"

"Sitting by yourself is no fun on your first day," Willow said sitting beside her. "Thought we'd keep you company."

"Oh, thanks! It was no trouble." Aisling said with a smile. "Just thought I'd call my dad let him know how my day was going."

"You two must be close." Xander said.

Aisling smiled and looked down. "Yeah, his work keeps him busy but when he's home he does his best to make sure that we spend as much time together as we can." She said with a shrug.

"So, what did you think of Miss Calendar?" Willow asked. "Pretty cool huh?"

"Yeah, she is," Aisling agreed, taking another bite of her sandwich. She looked at Buffy who looked like she was starting to Space out. "What about you Buffy?"

Buffy turned to Aisling her eyes wide. "What?"

"Your day, how was it?" Aisling asked with a small smile.

"Uh" Buffy gave a one-shoulder half shrug. "It was fine."

Aisling nodded. "So, have anything decent to do in this town?"

"There's this nightclub called the Bronze." Willow cut in with a smile. "Club let's just about anyone in, everyone goes there."

"Nightclub?" Aisling said.

"Yeah, that's not a problem is it?"

Aisling shrugged and took another bite of her sandwich. "Music any good?"

"Oh yeah, the Bronze does live music almost every other night," Willow said eagerly. "You should check it out one of these nights."

Aisling shrugged. "Maybe."

***

"Sorry!" Aisling said into her cell. "I'll be out in a few minutes, I just wanted to check out a couple of books for English."

"What books?" Spike asked.

"Uh- shoot." Aisling cursed as she realized she forgot what the booklist was. Aisling pulled the list out of her book bag. "Pride and Prejudice, Lord of the Flies, Wuthering Heights…"

"We have Pride and Prejudice, so you don't need to bother checking that one out," Spike said.

"I remember," Aisling said. "The other two, however-"

"I can wait," Spike said. "See you later, Bit."

"See you," Aisling said closing the phone.

The Library wasn't too hard to find once she'd stopped and asked Cordelia where it was. She found Cordelia to be a little tactless but not overtly off-putting in her help

She opened the double doors and walked into a middle-aged man and a blonde girl in a tank top and leggings, the girl was doing flips and jumps over the room. Aisling was mildly concerned that the books would be destroyed but given the middle-aged man didn't seem concerned over the books, she had to assume that it was a common occurrence.

Aisling coughed to get their attention and the blonde immediately stopped her gymnastic routine while the middle-aged stood straighter at seeing her there. The blonde girl turned her head and Aisling immediately recognized her as Buffy.

"Yes?" The man asked stepping forward.

"Sorry." Aisling said, "I needed to borrow a few books for class-though I can come back early tomorrow instead."

"No, no." The man said. "It's fine I'm Mr. Giles the Librarian, what books did you need to get?"

"Wuthering Heights and Lord of the Flies" Aisling rattled off.

Giles pointed off to a nearby bookshelf. "They should be there."

"Thank you," Aisling said, she turned to the blonde. "Hey, Buffy." She said waving slightly.

"Hey, Aisling," Buffy said.

"So… any reason you're working out in a library, instead of the gym?" Aisling asked as she made her way to the bookshelf.

"More private," Buffy said a little too quickly. "No one comes in here." Her eyes widened and she turned to Aisling. "Uh… you know regularly."

"Hmm," Aisling said as she looked around the bookshelf and smiled when she found what she was looking for. She grabbed the two books off the shelves they had been standing on and smiled as she turned to Buffy.

"How was the rest of your day?" Buffy asked.

"It was fine," Aisling said. "Very little homework, but that's to be expected for the first day of school, right?" Aisling's eyes caught the sight of another book and she gasped and grabbed it.

"Emily Dickinson?" Buffy said. "Someone I dated, once, liked her."

"Yeah, I like her rhythm… as well as listening to my da' rant about how… American she is.

Though honestly, I don't get it… he likes her poetry too."

"American?"

Aisling paused and smiled. "Yeah, my da' was born in London."

"Ahh," Buffy said. "So, your Irish-English?"

Aisling shrugged. "I'm adopted."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Aisling shook her head. "It was a long time ago," She said softly.

"Still…" Buffy said. "Can't have been easy."

"You have no idea," Aisling said. "But what in this life is?"

Aisling handed the books to Mr. Giles. "London, right?"

"Yes. How did you-"

Aisling smiled. "My dad was born and raised in London too."

Giles nodded and finished checking out the books for Aisling and handed them back to her.

"Nice to meet you Aisling."

Aisling smiled and nodded she turned to Buffy. "See you." She said before she hurried out the door.

***

Aisling saw the black Desoto as she made her way off school property. She stared for a moment before she smiled and shook her head and walked toward the car.

Aisling knocked on the window, she watched through the darkened windows for Spike to cover himself with the blanket. When she was confident, he was sufficiently covered she quickly opened the door entered and closed it.

Spike removed the blanket and tossed it into the backseat. "How was school?"

"Fine," Aisling said tossing her backpack in the backseat. "Met some interesting people… specifically this one blonde girl."

"Interesting how?" Spike said as drove off.

"She was doing gymnastics in the Library." Aisling said, "and the Librarian wasn't scolding her the look on his face seemed to suggest that it was a common occurrence."

"Huh."

"I know that not every athletic girl I meet is gonna be the Slayer. I mean hi I exist. But I mean it is strange. And given the fact that the Librarian is from London-"

"I'm from London." Spike cut in with a raised eyebrow.

"Who seems to oversee her training in a very empty Library, it does suggest something strange is going on," Aisling said.

"Did you tell her your suspicions?"

"And risk being wrong and mortifying myself on the first day of school?" Aisling shook her head. "No."

Spike smiled in spite of himself. "That's not what I meant. Most humans aren't aware that such a thing as a Slayer exists. You revealing yourself-"

"Might reveal more about me and my family than I want." Aisling finished. "I know. We did talk though, both now and at lunch."

"What'd you talk about?"

"She knows I'm adopted. There's a club called The Bronze that everyone goes to."

Spike nodded but decided against giving Aisling a final decision on whether he wanted her out after dark. On the one hand, he knew she could take care of herself – Prague had proven that and she'd gone out after dark multiple times in Vegas - but on the other Hellmouth energy tended to make demons and soulless vampires act even more hostile than normal.

Still, if she was befriending the slayer assuming her assumption was correct… it would give her a smidge more protection.

"Da'?" Aisling said staring up at him.

Spike turned to Aisling and smiled. "What else did you and this strangegirl talk about?"

***

"You know, I could have walked home from school," Aisling said as she watched her father lean tiredly against the doorframe. "You don't have to waste what few precious moments you have feeling 'ok' coming to pick me up."

Spike pushed himself off the doorframe attempting to wave away her concern. "Nonsense, dropping you off and picking you up on the first day of school is tradition."

"I once again feel the need to iterate: you hate tradition," Aisling said taking his hand and leading him to the Master Bedroom. "Come on. Back to bed. Then I'll make us some dinner and we can eat together."

Spike make a face. "I'm not a child, Bit."

"No, you're just stubborn and gormless," Ash said. "Bed. Now." She said pulling him along.

"When exactly are you gonna stop treatin' me like somethin' breakable."

Aisling turned and smiled, and Spike immediately realized his mistake.

To her credit Aisling didn't bring up the hypocrisy of his statement and instead answered his question by pulling on his arm roughly, Spike nearly fell over luckily for him Ash caught him and held him steady. "When I can pull your arm and you can resist better than that."

"You caught me off guard."

Aisling raised an eyebrow and Spike suddenly had a feeling of what it was like for Aisling throughout the years.

Spike sighed. "Did I ever make you feel breakable?"

"You're a vampire with superhuman strength, speed and agility, any human who knows you would feel breakable in your presence," Aisling said as she opened the bedroom door, she turned to see Spike looking at her guiltily. Her gaze softened and she stepped forward. "You helped me feel strong."

Spike scoffed, "That was cheesy."

"Yea, but it's true," Aisling said. "Now come on, I'm hungry and your hungry." When Spike looked like he was about to open his mouth and retort. She fixed him with the same glare he would throw at her when she was being obstinate.

He did not like that. That she could just throw everything back into his face and he couldn't do much against it.

Especially when he knew that she was right.

Hope you enjoyed it. I did have an extra seen of her actually making Spike's dinner but I cut it out as it didn't actually lead anywhere. (Might have it in Part 2) though not entirely sure.

Song’s in the dream sequence is: Bean Phaidin, the version I’m familiar with is the one sung by Celtic Woman. Though there are other versions sung before Celtic Woman sang it.

#Buffy The Vampire Slayer #vampire and his human child #spike #buffy summers #Aisling Pratt #Xander Harris #willow rosenberg #Principle Snyder

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fanfic-inator795 · 5 years ago

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Michika and my “A New Slice of Life” fic (and it’s sorta sequel-oneshot) lately, so screw it. Headcanon time

Warning: this got SUUUUUPER long

Michika:

Despite being semi-aquatic, Michi doesn’t really care for seafood. She’d rather have cucumbers/other veggies or noodles. She also just LOVES fruit and baked goods, but strangely enough also enjoys black licorice

Along with being friends with Mikey, she runs into Piebald during one of her swims on the surface, and the two become fast friends. While she’s not super into horror movies, they definitely bond over their love of pranks

One day when they were bored, Mikey taught Michi about splatter paint art, and now it’s one of her fave things to do

Prefers lakes over oceans, and will hang out in parks on the Surface because of this

Has excellent aim and is great at long range attacks, thanks to her water gun and a decent throwing arm, but is below-average when it comes to close combat, and will resort to scratching/biting if she can’t get away

Despite her trickster personality, she’s loyal enough to keep a promise (sort of a Kappa’s thing) though only for friends. For anyone else, they have to get her to somehow spill her bowl water in order to ‘earn’ a promise from her

First few times she slept over at the Lair, she just slept in that moat they have in the atrium. Though, as she and Mikey got closer and she was more okay with sleepover cuddle piles with the others in the tv room, she was willing to pour her head water into another bowl and sleep somewhere dry

If she comes over when Mikey’s in the middle of doing art, she’ll just grab a bowl of chips or salad and sit on his hammock, munching away and watching, occasionally giving a comment. Mikey likes having the company and the extra perspective

She only steals food. Everything else she has, from her clothes to her water gun, she found abandoned or in the trash. She doesn’t have any morals about stealing non-food items, it’s just that she doesn’t feel like she needs to. She needs to eat, not wear fancy clothes or glittery jewelry

TV is kind of a novelty for her, since I don’t think there’s a ton of it in the Hidden City. She enjoys watching Cutthroat Kitchen with Mikey and gets a mild kick out of Lou Jitsu movies. She’s also a huge fan of comedies

Speaking of Cutthroat Kitchen, she and Mikey love to egg each other on into doing these sorts of challenges when they feel like cooking together

*Raph, walking into the kitchen to see Mikey and Michi doing a sort of three-legged thing, half-laughing and half-yelling at each other* “Uhh, are you two angry or havin’ fun?” “YES!”

After hearing enough of it from Mikey and Hueso Jr., she develops a mild love of rap/hip hop and Spanish music

She and Junior take a while to find common ground, but they do get along pretty well. They like to sass each other at times, and while Michi likes to make herself laugh, she appreciates that Junior can make her laugh with his jokes and comebacks

Hueso Jr.:

He’s autistic and finds it really hard to be social at times, but can be very talkative and expressive around his father and his friends, and when comfortable, he can be a bit mischievous and silly/loud. He also has anxiety, though is able to work through it for the most part

Has a dry sense of wit, just like his dad

Is actually quite skilled at cooking technically, he just doesn’t have any passion or drive for it

Likes playing sports ball/soccer/baseball with Mikey and the Turtles when he’s in the mood. Is also good at fencing, thanks to lessons from his dad

Through the events of ‘A New Slice of Pizza’, he ends up discovering a love of flower arrangement and table setting/making centerpieces, and while it starts out as just a hobby, he can’t deny it’s his love and makes a decent career out of it

That being said, he sometimes helps with the management stuff at Run of the Mill when Senor Hueso needs him to

Given that the Turtles have already paid his way for it (lol, love that line in ‘Portal Jacked!’), Junior does go to college for two years. He gets an associate’s degree in Literature

Through his love of wordplay and skeleton puns, he also ends up sort of getting into poetry. It’s more comedic and clever, though it’s still embarrassing for him to share. He sometimes help Mikey with rap lyrics as well

Likes music (classical, easy listening, alt. rock) and usually listens to Spanish artists

While being the same age as Mikey - 13 years old - he’s a few months younger (the opposite of Michi, who proudly reminds others that she’s 13 and a half, thank you very much)

While he may literally be all bones, he still enjoys hardy and filling foods. Lots of meat, lots of spices and heat, and (naturally) enjoys Italian and Mexican cuisine

He’s good at avoiding Michi’s pranks, which both impresses and annoys her

He’s not very good at art in terms of drawing or painting, but will still sometimes doodle and color with Mikey when Mikey’s in the mood for it and will still enjoy himself

Will watch anything and be okay/mildly entertained, but specifically likes watching sports

Mikey:

Works at Run of the Mill from age 13 to age 18, coming up with no less than a dozen one-of-a-kind dishes while there, becoming friends with all of his co-workers and earning plenty of fans through his awesome cooking skills and table service

When he starts traveling the world for a few years, both above and below the surface, to learn even more about food and cooking techniques, Michi comes along for the heck of it, and they both make sure to keep in contact with Junior as well as the Turtles/April/Splinter

When he does eventually open up his own restaurant in his late 20s/early 30s, he only had one name in mind for it: “Razz-ma-Tazz” A mix of Italian/American/Mexican/Asian cooking. Pretty much any delicious dish any human, mutant or yokai could ask for!

Enjoys cuddle sessions with his friends as much as he enjoys having fun and getting into shenanigans with them

Often sketches out candid moments he remembers (Michi catching a snooze under water, Junior smiling to himself as he’s writing out a poem, stuff like that)

As soon as he’s old enough for them, he switches from covering himself with paint and stickers to covering himself with tattoos, and is VERY proud of them

Takes care of the stray animals that hang out behind his restaurant, feeding them leftovers and giving them names

In his early-20s, after seeing April and his bros get into romantic relationships (April with Sunita, Leo with Usagi, and Raph and Donnie with two of my best friend’s OCs, heh), he starts to realize “Hey, you know what? I think I like Michi and Junior that way too!” He never really thought or cared about his sexuality too much beforehand, so realizing he’s bi and polyamorous isn’t too big of a deal for him

Unlike his brothers, who were absolute DISASTERS when it came to romance, Mikey ironically was the most mature and straight-forward about it despite being the second-youngest in the Jitsu fam. He just sat them both down, told him how he felt about them - BOTH of them - and was honest, along with telling them that he loved them just as much as friends, so if they didn’t feel the same or weren’t comfortable with the poly idea, that was totally cool.

As such, Michi and Junior both took some time - first thinking about it alone, then discussing it with each other. Eventually, they came to the conclusion that they loved Mikey too, and that they were close enough to each other that they didn’t mind being co-partners and having the same boyfriend along with being friends with each other

Everyone but Splinter was surprised with this outcome, but the entire fam (Senor Hueso included) was totally happy and supportive of them ^v^

Isn’t totally sure about being a parent with how busy his restaurant and his art keeps him, but in the meantime he volunteers with programs like Big Brothers/Big Sisters and mentorship programs, and occasionally fosters kids for several weeks

Two decades or so and hundreds of dishes later... and his favorite food is (and always WILL BE) pizza or pizza-esque dishes

Aaaaaand that’s all I have for now! If you made it this far - thanks for reading!! ^v^

#rottmnt #michelangelo tmnt #headcanons #my oc's #my fanfics #long post #lgbt headcanons

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crimsonrae · 4 years ago

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Bear and Birdie

Chapter Three

Summary: AU Howard only ever had Birdie to confide in as a child and Steve only ever had Bucky. So, what happens when more than just a supersoldier serum connects these people? Told in a collection of one-shots and flashbacks, rating subject to change.

Bucky BarnesxOFC

Rating: Mature

1935 Kingston, New York

"Elena Marie Turner. I forbid you to leave. Unpack your bags this instant."

Elena sighed and tried not to roll her eyes as she finished buttoning her coat. She wearily met her mother's furious gaze as she checked her appearance in the hall mirror, "I'm leaving, mother… whether you like it or not."

"To do what? To attend classes for a degree you'll never use? Your place is here." Vitoria Turner declared with a raise of her chin and for a moment her daughter could see the cold beauty her mother had once been, "Now the Fall Gala is in a few weeks and Mrs. Mallard's son has recently become partner in his law firm. You would do well to court his interest. I was already engaged to your father when I was your age."

This time Elena did roll her eyes as she turned to face Vitoria, "I don't think you understand, mother. In less than ten minutes Howard will be here to pick me up. I am moving to the city indefinitely. I've spoken with Uncle Leo; there is enough money in the family account to keep the estate running for the next five months. I suggest that you find new living arrangements before then. Perhaps you should speak with Fergus."

"Perhaps I shall. At least I have one child who obeys me." Vitoria sniped as she stalked towards her daughter, "You step out of this house and I will disown you, Elena. Is that what you want?"

Elena silently wished her cousin would appear. Her mother had officially grown desperate if she was threatening disownment. Behind Vitoria's outrage, she could see her mother's fear. The money her mother had inherited after Samuel's death was almost gone and since Uncle Howard had neglected to put Vitoria in his will, she had no money coming from the Stark side of the family. Vitoria had become dependent on her children's inheritance to maintain the wealthy lifestyle to which she was accustomed. More specifically she had become accustomed to her daughter's inheritance. Fergus had squandered his within a year of their father's death. For a brief moment, Elena almost felt guilty for leaving her mother and unofficially cutting her off…almost.

The journal that Howard uncovered had been the first of many finds for the cousins. Howard Senior made copies of every letter he ever written and sent and Elena had found those letters bundled in the false bottom of his desk drawer. Vitoria had been more than aware about the circumstances surrounding her husband's death. She had even used that knowledge to make her brother cover Fergus's gambling debts. Elena was not about to forgive that anytime soon.

"Honestly mother, I don't care." Elena smiled bitterly, "I think I'll wait outside."

She made it two steps before she felt her mother's fingers dig into her arm, "You can't do this Elena. I'm your mother for God's sake."

Elena did not even blink, "It's not that I can't. It's that I already have."

The sound of a car rumbling up the drive could be heard from inside the silent house. Carefully, Elena slipped from her mother's grasp and picked up her luggage, "That's Howard. Talk to Fergus, mother."

She quickly stepped outside and placed her bags into the backseat of her cousin's car as he came to a stop. The clicking of heels told Elena that her mother had followed her out, but she refused to acknowledge her presence any more than she had to. Howard looked at her in question, but she shook her head. She did not want to get into it. Her morning had been long enough already.

"You won't last out there. You'll come back to me, Elena. More than likely pregnant with someone's bastard child." Vitoria began to rant, "You're better off here."

Elena continued to ignore her as she slid into the passenger seat. Howard looked furious and it was only because his cousin grabbed a hold of his elbow that he refrained from saying anything or even getting out of the car. She had heard worse.

"Howard…Howard Stark don't you go anywhere, young man!"

The two cousins exchanged a look and Howard placed the car into gear and drove off, leaving Vitoria yelling after the car. He glanced over at Birdie and with a chipper voice asked, "So, how have you been?"

Elena sent him a dry stare but could not help the smile that was curling the edges of her mouth, "Well, mother found out from Uncle Leo that she's being cut off from my finances yesterday. So I've been in hell for the past day and a half."

"And now you've successfully escaped your mother's clutches….We should celebrate." Howard suggested with a grin.

She shook her head at him, "I think you do enough of that for the both of us."

His grin slowly slipped away, "Yeah…."

She smiled sadly, when did everything become such a mess?

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1935 Somewhere in New Jersey

Bucky blinked dazedly as he rubbed at his cheek. His skin was hot beneath his fingers and he nearly winced at the knowledge that he had a pink handprint painted on his cheek. Jesus, that girl could slap.

"Well, that went well."

Bucky frowned as he turned to glance at a smirking Steve. Grumbling, he asked, "Why'd we come to Jersey anyway?"

There was a pause as Steve rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck as he thought over the past few days. He raised a pointed brow at Bucky as he stated dryly, "You wanted to celebrate and somehow breakfast turned into drinks and then it gets a little fuzzy."

"Fuzzy's one word for it." Bucky muttered tiredly as he cheek throbbed in time to the hangover headache he was nursing. In truth, he remembered a good deal of the past few days. A mix of celebrating his eighteenth birthday and Stevie's acceptance into Columbia. It was one of the few times he had been able to cajole his best friend into drinking more than a pint. He smirked quietly to himself – he'd never miss out on a drunk Steve, "Though I do recall you and Julie were havin' a good time."

Steve flushed red at the reminder of the pretty brunette that had been kind enough to sit with him after a bumbling dance attempt. He had lost track of time in the bar as she engaged him in a lively discussion on the Public Work's projects and the artistic style that was arising from the governmental art. He had never met someone who was as interested in the current policy as she had been – not that they had talked just about art. He grinned slyly as he recalled the way Julia had stolen a kiss...talking had become limited by that point. Ruefully, he wished he had gotten a phone number or an address from her before she had disappeared into the night. It wasn't often that he met a girl that truly liked him or that he liked in return.

He sighed almost wistfully, "Julia, not Julie."

"Close enough." Bucky returned with a shrug, he had been around for the first few bits of Steve's interaction with Julia and had rolled his eyes before slipping off to dance with a few girls himself. Somehow, he had lost track of his friend or was it that Steve had lost track of him? A thoughtful frown flitted over his features as he remembered becoming entangle with a girl – Sally. He grinned before the throbbing in his cheek reminded him that Sally hadn't taken too well to his advances in the daylight, "Did ya get her number? You two seemed to be hittin' it off pretty well."

Steve shook his head, "No, didn't get the chance. We should be headin' back, Buck."

Bucky pursed his lips, unsure if he should press the issue of his surrogate brother's dating habits or move on. He already had one headache; he decided he didn't need another one. Yawning tiredly, he nodded his head, "I don't really remember how we got here. And I'm not sure either one of us has enough money to make it back to Brooklyn."

Steve paused, "I thought you held back a few coins to get us on the train back."

Bucky snorted, "Did I do this before or after I had a few?"

"Point taken." Steve muttered drolly, not remotely surprised by his friend's actions, "Hitchhiking?"

"Hitchhiking." Bucky agreed as he swung his coat through his arms and tugged on his cap. The balmy Summer had turned into a brisk Fall and it seemed as if both Jersey and New York would be feeling a bitter Winter. It wasn't a pleasant thought to have now that both Steve and himself were out of the orphanage.

He would need to check out Mrs. Rogers old apartment for heat and sealed windows when they got back. He and Stevie had only been able to stand a few minutes inside the old apartment before Bucky felt the urge to leave and by the almost dourful glint in Stevie's eyes, he wasn't far behind. The impromptu trip to the bars and subsequently New Jersey had been more for distraction than anything else. Despite the memories the flat brought up for both boys, it would now be their home and as such needed to be able to bear the brunt of a New York Winter...or at the very least keep the boys warm and provide a decent place to rest for when Steve would inevitably become sick.

Bucky swallowed tightly – without the orphanage they would need to find a new doctor and pharmacy. He could already see the bills for that piling behind his eyes as he felt an uneasy fear slither through his gut. The image bore too much resemblance to a time when he was younger and the doctor's bills had piled before his father. Silently, he swore to himself that he would never let things become that bad. He loved his father, but he wouldn't become him.

"Buck?"

James blinked as he realized that Steve had been calling him for sometime. A concerned spark glittering in his surrogate brother's eyes as he stood next to someone's farm truck, "You okay?"

Bucky was quick to smile as he pushed old memories back into the depths of his mind, "Nothin' a little hair of the dog wouldn't fix."

Steve rolled his eyes, "I don't think I want to see another drink for a week. Come on, I got us a ride."

"Yeah, yeah – I'm comin." He muttered as he reassured himself that they would get through this – things weren't bad yet after all.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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If you would like to be tagged in my stories please add yourself to the taglist linked in my bio!!

General Taglist (All Writings)

@bichibibi @madbaddic7ed @beckster07890 @herefortherealdeal@foxyjwls007 @spencer-is-amazing

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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yes-i-have-thoughts · 5 years ago

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Old Friend (BATIM Hell’s Studio AU)

TRIGGERS: Near death experience (very vague but still), death mention SUMMARY: Things are a bit much for Bendy, so he gets out of work for a little while. On the way, he picks up a surprise for a friend. NOTES: I’ve already posted this on another site as a kind of vent fic but I kept forgetting to post it here like a complete idiot, so now I’m doing it. It’s semi-unedited because I couldn’t think of a way to fix it. Based heavily off a comic done by @doodledrawsthings that hit pretty damn close to home for reasons I couldn’t figure out. Will I link to it? Yes...Once I find it again. ^^; Also another shot at writing Bendy’s accent that probably went better than the first time around (I hope so, anyways)

A car whizzed by, horn blaring as a short figure jumped onto the sidewalk. "Jeez..." The figure glared after the car as it sped down the road. "There's a speed limit sign for a reason, ya dillweed."

Bendy checked himself over for any melting ink caused by the scare. Arms are okay, face is okay, legs are covered by pants so they're okay, feet are-well, feet, but they look like boots still so they should be okay. Tail hasn't budged from around his body, the hoodie isn't sticking to him and nothing's going fuzzy so nothing's gonna melt anytime soon. Phew. "Can't afford to start meltin'," he said to himself, pulling his baseball hat down lower and fixing his hoodie. "Gotta lot of stuff to do. Deadlines ta meet, people ta meet, cartoons ta make, people ta spook..." He started walking in the direction of his workplace/home when something caught his eye. An art store, several years old and looking like it. The window was a bit dusty, the front stoop was worn down and the bell barely visible through the front door's window was tarnished. It was filled with people, though, and had an advert that caught Bendy's attention-a sale on art supplies. Bendy grinned and bounded up the stairs, work temporarily forgotten. The owner smiled at him and gave him a nod when he came in. The memories this place held. The days of hiding out here, looking at book after book, testing out paints, having to pay for them (and the floor damage) after, a friendly voice re-hashing what the grouchy then-owner of the store had told him: "Ben, I know you like paint, but maybe let me buy them before you start messing around with them." Bendy found himself staring down a rack of high-quality sketchbooks. A voice nagging in his head told him that he was going to be late for work, but it was overthrown by the louder voice telling him that he had space in his backpack, spare money and a friend he was due to visit anyways. Wouldn't hurt to bring a surprise, right? If the other voice had sentience, it would have growled in annoyance as Bendy reached for the books.

The traffic near Bendy's next destination was a fair bit more lacking. This was a relief to Bendy, seeing as-him being not the tallest toon on planet earth-he looked like a child visiting his parents whenever he opened the gates, which led to people feeling sympathy for him. He hated sympathy. The toon flipped the latch up and pulled the gate open, slipping inside without bothering to close it again. He paced up and down the row of gravestones for one in particular. "Come on, come on, where are you-" He gasped suddenly, seeing a group of people walking towards him. He quickly ducked behind a large gravestone and tried not to strain his ears too much as the people walked past. One of them, a woman, was sobbing her eyes out as a man comforted her. "He's not in pain anymore, Sarah," the man said in a low voice. "I know-" she blew her nose into the tissue her escort had offered her. "I just hate to leave him behind like this..." Bendy knew the feeling. He remembered all too well how leaving his friend behind had felt like a blow to the chest. It still stung leaving him behind after casual visits, but what can you do? It's not exactly legal to bring a dead body home, plus Joey would have a fit. The toon stayed tucked with the gravestone as the slow funeral procession walked by, none of them noticing him. The gate latching closed gave him the green light to move again. "Sorry, Molly," he said as he patted the gravestone. "May you rest in peace. Say hi to Susie for me." Time bled away some more as he paced the rows again, stopping once he found the one he was after. Reading the name was like knocking on the door to an old friend's house. His eager smile deflated a little. "Howzit goin', Henry?" He greeted the month-old gravestone. "Hope ya ain't sick of me comin' here. Of course, it ain't like ya could tell me that anyways. Not while yer six feet unda." He knelt down in front of the gravestone and opened his backpack, rustling around in it to gather all of his new stuff. "So get this," he started, "they were havin' a sale at that art store down th' street. Two for the price of one." He proudly pulled out a stack of sketchbooks and grinned. "I am now currently in possession of six brand new sketchbooks. Th' good ones, too! Not like a buncha prin'ner paper stuck between two pieces of cardboard." "Was gonna head back home, but uh..." Bendy's smile deflated again as he looked down at the sketchbook, feeling a little silly over what he was going to say. "I dunno, I just started thinkin' about how we always went down there to look around durin' breaks. I just figured..." Things started getting blurry. He wiped his arm over his eyes irritably. "Figured it'd be nice, to...Um..." Screw the blurriness. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Nice to just sit down and draw wit' you again. Y'know, for old times' sake..." Drops of ink got onto the cover of one of the sketchbooks. Bendy wiped at them and watched them smudge all over the green-patterned cover. Green swirls on a black background. Henry's favourite colour over Bendy's ink... He shook his head and grabbed a new pencil, settling against the gravestone with his pack to draw a little. Joey was going to worry for a while, wondering where he'd gone-and yes, he was supposed to be at a meeting in an hour. But they can all wait. Henry needs company and Bendy needs a break. It's only an hour away, after all. Besides, if he needs to, Bendy can just take the bus.

#El writes #batim fanfic #Hell's Studio AU #death mention #vent fic

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darknytemare · 5 years ago

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Into the Twisted Depths [A VIXX Parallel Colloboration]

Pairing: Hongbin (Lee Hongbin) [VIXX] x Female OC

VoodooDoll!AU

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: fantasy, mythology, horror, dirty-ish/implied/maybe smut

Warnings: Blood, voodoo ritual mentions, gore mentions, pain/sensation ‘play’ mentions

Summary: At a time where the number of Voodoo Dolls is representative of one's power. Hongbin is the 6th Voodoo Doll conjured by a young priestess. He was sent by a powerful deity to keep watch over her. That’s fine until he decides he wants her power.. and her whole existence for himself.

Note: loa/lwa - the name for the patron spirits/deities of voodoo

Baron Samedi- The loa of the dead [think similar to Hades]

Ayan LaRoche - Voodoo Priestess OC

Ayan was born and raised in the bayou of Louisiana. The dialogue will reflect some 'twang' and spatterings of Creole dialect.

Even though this is for the VIXX Parallel Collaboration, I may continue this as a series.

What rotten luck was this?!

Hongbin grunted as life, or something like it, suffused into his body. He could feel the ligaments moving as his fingers wiggled in the air. The disdain on his face at the sight of himself was hard to hide. He wobbled like a puppet on a string dangling from a great height.

The substance that ran through his veins slowed as he heard the echo of footsteps. His lip stayed lifted in a half snarl. The guttural sound vibrated against his vocal cords. The push of tension caused his biceps to flex, almost violently, against his shirt.

That was until he saw who was walking toward him.

The shadow of a tophat, the scent of a cigar, and the pasty white painted skull over a brown-skinned face.

He wanted to disappear; to become so small and insignificant that he could forget the sight in front of him.

Every every poppet knew for whom and what purpose they had been created. It was rare that one of the loa bothered. Let alone the Lord of the Dead himself.

"Ah, I see you awake now." The loa smirked at Hongbin's sudden shrink in attitude and demeanor. "Dat's good, dat's good. Nah, I know you might be havin' a question or two 'bout why you here." There was a thick cloud of smoke that lifted from the deity's nostrils.

The smile on Baron Samedi's face gave Hongbin a cold chill. "I need you do sumthin' fah me." The taller man tugged at the bindings holding the voodoo doll aloft.

"I need you to keep an eye on someone fa' me. You see, dis girl? She special. I like her. She gotta lot of learnin' for she can be a power to be reckoned with." Baron Samedi stopped to level a dark umber gaze on Hongbin.

"You need'ta keep the unsavory 'way from her, ya'hear?" The sudden baritone of the deity's voice caused Hongbin's knees to buckle. The overwhelming power filled the room, leaving him only able to nod with wide eyes.

"Good, good. No one gets near her, Hongbin. Do we understand each otha'?" Hongbin nodded vigorously as he swallowed the lump in his throat. The loa smirked while picking an object from a nearby table. He turned toward the dangling puppet with a particular glee dancing in his eyes.

He knew what was coming before Baron Samedi reached him. He could see the sharply jagged edge on the ice pick. His lips flattened into a straight line as he steeled himself for the onslaught.

The pain never bothered him at first. The first initial puncture, scratch, or gouge was nothing at this point. It was the speed of delivery that always killed him. Some of the priests or priestesses were quick with their work. It prevented the pain from building in the doll.

It always made it easier to cause the maximum amount of pain to their intended victim.

But some caused pain to the doll and the victim. They said it was probably as close to watching the deed from far away. It wasn't that way with the loa, unfortunately.

They gave pain, relished in the suffering, and needed the experimentation to learn about humanity.

Samedi was twisted, perverted, and sadistic. This was nothing more than entertainment for him. This was also an early lesson. That he wanted what he wanted.

.....and that he wouldn't accept failure.

Others.

There were never others.

At least not in his time in service, had he seen others. Hongbin heard about those that had been able to conjure more than one doll. There was a time, long ago, when someone had three. That woman was descended from a strong line - the first line. She was a descendant of the one who started everything that would be Voodoo. That woman had children but then moved to Haiti.

Removing herself and her kin from Louisiana due to the state that the art had devolved. It was considered hoodoo, entertainment, and a child's play. That woman returned sometime later with her children in tow.

She had risen in her craft to take on the title of Mambo. The highest and most important places a person can reach. Her children were exceptional, as well. A son, musically gifted, and in tune with nature. A daughter with a wicked streak and a penchant for darker dealings.

He only knew of the woman by one name - The Black Mamba. To the public, though, she was Mambo LaRoche. A formidable woman of high power who understood the balance between the light and dark elements of the craft.

The community was devastated when Hurricane Katrina stole her away from them.

It stole all but one.

“Wake up.” A lilting purr slithered across the shell of his ear. Hongbin stirred with the sensation of cold metal against his back. The air was thick with incense, blood, and magic. An echo of laughter, drums, and the rush of power caused his heart to beat fast.

“Come on now. You can do it.” There was the scent of lilies in the air, causing his head to sway in its direction. A delicate finger trailed down the center of his bare chest. He twitched as the finger trailed a muscle at the dip in his groin.

His lips parted on a soft moan. Samedi beat him until he lost consciousness, only for him to wake up to this? He could feel lips soft along his jaw. She spoke to him in a language once thought long dead. It was so beautiful, it seemed to dance across his skin.

The scent of blood filled his nostrils, his mouth watered, his body reacted violently. His eyes snapped open as a shadow hovered over him. "Blue." He murmured absently. Her eyes were so blue. Crystalline. Icy. The adjective to classify them was out of his reach. He just realized as the moon spilled light upon them both - he'd never seen a blue like it.

"Well, well. Look who decided to finally wake up." Her lips curved into a smile as she tucked her fingers under her chin. "Th'names Ayan. Ayan LaRoche, enchanté ."

The blue-eyed Creole stood, as regal as queen, with her hands clasped in front of her. The heavy pressure seemed to evaporate at that moment. Hongbin could feel beads of sweat sliding down the sides of his face.

A thick swallow as she crouched above him. The whisper of thin linen against his skin caused him to moan. He could see the moonlit silhouette of her body through the gauzy material. The uptick of her breast and the prominent push of her nipples. She brought his hands to the wide expanse of her hips.

Arousal.

Instant. Obvious. Painful.

He could feel the power radiating off her skin. The surge of it pulsed under his fingertips. The warm slide of her fingers against the throb of his erection caused him to moan. His fingers dug deep into her flesh as she settled over him. Every vein in his body seemed prominent as she swiveled her hips.

Bloodied hands pressed against his chest as she moved, chanting. The moonlight seemed to spotlight the sealing ritual. Her feet dug into the ground as her voice crescendoed. Hongbin remembered, suddenly, a warning. He remembered the threat beaten into his flesh.

But as her body tugged and molded around him? He forgot about it. He forgot all of it. She connected to a wealth of power long left untouched within him. He could feel her peel back the layers of his spiritual reserves. Their bodies and spirits thumped against each other, seemingly to no end.

Before he knew it? He had rolled them, anchoring her upper half to the ground. She let out a shrill sound that made his stomach knot. He didn’t care about the gore covering her fingers. He kept chasing the link, the thing that sealed Doll to Practitioner. “R-right...there.” She gasped. The warm honey of her voice vibrated in the air as he held her hips upward. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as she dissolved into orgasm. He tilted his head as he met the pure white, then suddenly golden tone in her eyes.

His brow furrowed as her body seemed to pull all of him inside of her. He lurched as his own orgasm gave chase.

Hongbin felt it at that moment - there was no bottom. She had reached all the way inside of him, farther than anyone before. Yet, he couldn’t find her. Like there was no end to her.

"Welcome to the family, sug'." Her voice was like warm honey. Rich, silky, and sweet - strangely no different from her singing to her speaking. Ayan's gaze lifted toward the face of her newest doll.

Six.

There were never others.

The most that there had ever been was three.

He was now one of six.

Samedi, what have you gotten me into? Who is this woman?

Everything seemed to get warmer, fuzzy - the air was so sweet? He wavered as he looked down at the woman smiling up at him. But it was a different voice that he heard.

"You need to wake up, little brother." A soothing, melodic voice chided. The night seemed to fizzle away as the voice continued, beckoned him to wake up.

Wait a minute?

Wake up?

Didn't he do that already?

"Time to wake up, little brother." Hakyeon's voice was so damned soothing.

"What happened? I - I was up already?" The confusion was thick in his voice. His mouth was so dry as if he hadn't spoken more than a few days.

"Shhh." Hakyeon placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You'll get sick if you're not careful." Hongbin shrugged him off with a growl.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine! There's no way that I could get -" He was too panicked to notice it at first. He had been so busy trying to find the wounds that plagued him not too long ago. The burning sensation crept along the surface of his skin.

From the feet to his knees, he thought it was just from movement. From his knees to his hips, he felt it was his body finally moving. The sensation crept up his torso, to his neck, and then it was behind his eyes.

Then it filled his head as the sound of a scream filled his ears. Oh, it was his scream. It had been a while since he had made a sound like this. The power overwhelmed him as he clawed at his skull.

The connection. The link. The establishment of the thread that binds the voodoo doll to its owner. It washed over him like a tidal wave. He saw visions, clipped projections of memories from the other five. Hakyeon sighed slowly, waiting for Hongbin to calm himself down.

It took him five minutes to regain his composure - it never took that long. He turned to the side and was violently sick when it was over.

"Good, she's ready for you now." The older doll smiled, pleased even, as he turned to depart. "There are fresh clothes in the bathroom. Make yourself presentable and then take the path to the house. Don't keep her waiting."

He moved from the bed in a rush to the bathroom. They may have been 'dolls' in a sense, but their forms still required the typical maintenance. Bathing was essential and enjoyable - a luxury even.

The hot water over his skin eased the tension from his muscles. He rotated his joints under the hot spray. He would have to ask how long he was asleep. He grits his teeth as he hurriedly washed and dressed.

He had already kept her waiting. "Tsk." Hongbin was dressed in a sweater, slacks, and shoes too shiny to have ever seen a speck of dirt. He admired his reflection in the mirror before leaving their space.

There was a path of carefully laid gravel. The crunch of his shoes on the ground was the only noise in the area. The moon was full, bright, and beautiful in the Louisiana sky. He spotted a set of double French doors open wide toward a parlor decorated in ornate Victorian style.

His steps were quiet as he entered the parlor. His fingers were a whisper over the costly, ornate wooden backs of couches and chairs. He heard the sound of singing? Or was it humming? It was close.

He felt his heart quicken as he entered the open space of the dining room. His brow furrowed as he followed the song through the house. The click of his heels against an old hardwood floor almost tapped in time with the voice. He was panting and didn't understand why.

This home was ridiculously large for no reason! Where was that sound?! By the time he realized he was on the other side of the house. Another set of french doors opened toward the courtyard that dazzled with white roses. He stood in the doorway; his eyes pinned to the back of an ornate wingback chair.

The voice stopped, suddenly, as his footsteps announced his presence.

Laughter. A throaty, warm, laugh that sent prickles across his skin. He saw the delicate shine of polish on her fingers. He was almost afraid to get a full look at her.

"Come closer, suga'." He did as he was instructed. He moved in front of the shadowed space. The clouds began to break as he noticed an odd gleam coming from her face.

"Blue." He murmured absently. Her eyes were so blue. Crystalline. Icy. The adjective to classify them was out of his reach. He just realized as the moon spilled light upon them both - he'd never seen a blue like it.

A long, massive, moment of silence stretched for what seemed an eternity between them. Hongbin still had her hand in his own, the delicate knuckle adorned with crystal-studded rings.

His grip tightened, a reflex, as he couldn't keep himself quiet. "You're the most powerful witch in all of Louisiana."

She tilted her head with an amused smile as his lips brushed against her knuckles. There was a sudden pull in her lower half that caused breath to slither from her mouth.

Hongbin’s gaze rose to hers as the corner of his mouth lifted.

And she would be his, easily.

#vpcollab #vixx parallel project #voodo doll #Honbin imagine #VIXX imagine #vixx smut #hongbin smut #female oc #voodoo

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fandomsforyourthots · 6 years ago

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Failed Lessons || Modern ArthurXF!reader

So I had gotten a suggestion for an idea for a fic, and halfway through me writing it, my kid decided to try to eat my phone, deleting everything. So I said fuck it 😂 i needed to write something cute to get my mind off it. So have some fluff!!

*************

He doesn't notice her walk in at first. Her steps are light and she's gentle on the door as she opens and closes it behind her. That's why when she finally speaks, Arthur nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Looks like it’s just me and you tonight sir.”

“Jesus Christ! Woman you nearly gave me a heart attack!” He shouts as he clutches his chest before taking a deep breath.

He quickly closed what looked like a journal of sorts and set it down on the desk in front of him before sighing and meeting her eyes.

“Wasn’t my intention, I promise.” She says intently, taking a few steps forward and placing what looked to be a slew of art supplies on a table in the middle of the room. “I was running late so I figured you would have already started, but…..”

“Yeah…” He looked around at the two empty rows of tables, and then back to her as she stood near one a row away from him. “Suppose schedulin' this at seven pm on a Tuesday wasn’t the best idea.”

She let a string of gentle amused laughter pass her lips and Arthur couldn't help but to notice that it was a pleasing sound to his ears.

“Yeah, can’t see too many adults this day in age having the free time to take a free art class at the community center on an evening in the middle of the week.”

“Alright, now yer just rubbin' salt in my wounds.” He says through a chuckle.

She chuckles along with him until she notices that he's packing up his own supplies.

“Hey, you aren't gonna leave are you?”

“That was the plan, unless you plan on tryin’ to endure two hours of my company alone.”

She smiled at him and grabbed her things before replacing them on the table right in front of his desk.

“I didn't fight to find a parking spot amidst all those youth basketball moms just for my art teacher to run out on me due to his poor planning.” She teased as she sat in one of the two chairs at the table, patting the other one in a gesture for him to sit.

“I'm (Y/n) by the way.” She says as she opens her sketchpad and neatly arranges a few pencils next to it.

“Arthur.”

A soft smile tugs at her lips as she looks up at him. “It’s nice to meet you Arthur. I'm not gonna lie, you aren't exactly who I was expecting to be leading this class.”

“Oh yeah?” He questions as he sits down next to her and places his supplies on the table. “And who exactly was you expectin'?”

“Some wrinkly old lady dead set on teaching about the exciting art of knitting maybe.”

That pulls a laugh from Arthur’s mouth. He opens his journal to a blank page before looking over at her supplies and then her. She had started doodling on her pad so Arthur took the time to study her.

He watched her eyes dart across the page silently as she made lines and shades here and there across the paper, noting the pretty shade they turned when the bright light of the room hit them just right.

He found himself attracted to her, glad that she seemed to be the only adult in the city with the free time to take an evening art class.

“So, you gonna teach me anything or are you just gonna stare at me for two hours?” She asked playfully as she looked over at him.

Arthur could feel the blush creeping to his cheeks at being caught, hoping that it wasn’t as deep as it felt.

“My apologies, didn’t mean to be a creep.” He muttered, before picking up his own pencil and sneakily starting a profile sketch of the woman next to him.

“No apologies needed.” She responded before resuming her drawing. “So, Arthur, is this your full time job, or are you just channeling your inner Bob Ross for a night?”

He laughed at that, and she smiled at the sound of it, secretly happy she could pull such a sound from the man.

“Well technically, this is my day job, just not here. I teach, or attempt to teach, art at the middle school a few blocks from here.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise but kept her eyes on the paper in front of her. “So you teach art to children?”

“Like I said, I attempt to. The lot of them usually just end up havin' a competition to see who can leave class covered in the most paint, or lead, or charcoal, or whatever.”

The statement itself would make anyone seem like he hated his job, but (Y/n) noticed that there was no malice in his words. In fact, there was a subtle happiness in his eyes now as he switched pencils and continued to draw.

She couldn't help it, but as she was looking at him she noticed just how handsome he was. His brown hair was a little past the middle of his ear and parted on the left side, tufts of it swaying gently as he moved with his pencil.

His eyes were the prettiest shade of blue-green she had ever seen, like the ocean on the clearest and sunniest of days. And he had the starting stubble of what was surely a nice beard growing in.

He was god damn dreamy.

“And what is it you do for a livin', miss?”

“I actually teach as well, believe it or not. Ballet.”

He looked over at her with a teasing grin. “Ballet huh? You any good?”

“Well I do teach it, so……”

“…. Right.”

They both shared a lighthearted chuckle at Arthur's failed attempt at teasing her before falling into a companionable silence. They sat next to each other with nothing but the sound of pencil, paper, and a few words here and there between them for almost three hours, and it would have been more had Arthur not glanced down at his watch and noticed the time.

“Jesus.” He muttered as he sat back in his chair and wiped his face with his hands. “I reckon we’re the only ones here at this hour.”

She looked up from her nearly finished sketch and yawned as she nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, didn’t realize time was moving so fast.”

She stood up and gave a long stretch before beginning to pack away her pencils. Arthur reached for his own belongings as well, but before he could make any progress he happened to lock eyes with her sketchpad, his own eyes thinning in confusion.

“Well shit, miss.” He muttered as he slid the pad closer to himself and gazed at the picture on the paper with a mixture of emotions.

He looked up at her in hopes of conveying his question, but when he saw that she wasn’t catching on he decided to look back down.

“This is…..well…. me, first of all, but besides that it’s really damn good.”

“You really like it? Wasn't too sure if I was gonna do you justice.”

Arthur still looked utterly lost. A silence hung between them for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and slid the object back to her.

“You do know this was a class for beginners, right?”

She couldn't help but to chuckle softly to herself as she started to gently tear the drawn on paper from the stack. She could feel Arthur watching her as she gently scribbled on a clean portion of it before pushing it over to Arthur.

“I do know this class was for beginners actually, and I’m afriad I haven’t been very truthful with you Arthur.” She giggled out as she gathered her things in her arms and turned to him. “I teach ballet at the dance company a couple blocks from here, but I also teach a few classes here from time to time. I was on my way to my car when I saw you in here looking a little lonely, figured I’d come keep you company if you wanted it.”

It took Arthur a moment to react, his eyes scanning hers for any sign of a lie, before his confusion gave way to soft laughter.

“So you dance, you draw, you lie, is there anything you don't do miss?” He asked with an amused tone.

She joined in his laughter as she slowly headed towards the door to the hallway, her hand stopping on the knob so she could look back at Arthur.

“I don't text back after twelve.” She said cheekily, nodding towards the drawing on the table before turning and leaving the room.

Arthur’s brows were knit together as he looked back down towards the little scribble now in the bottom right corner of the paper. It was her name, and what he presumed was her phone number, and all he could do was scoff as he neatly folded and tucked the paper into pocket.

************

Later that evening, at around eleven fifty-eight, (Y/n) smiled softly to herself as she lay in her bed. She stared up at her phone in her hands, the bright light illuminating the surrounding darkness.

She hadn’t been expecting the notification, but there it was, a text from an unknown number. She opened it and laughed out loud when she read it.

‘Did I make it?’

Her thumbs tapped away before hitting send. With a content smile, she locked her phone and placed it on her nightstand before settling into her bed for the night.

***********

When Arthur's phone went off at exactly twelve he felt that he opened the text a little to rapidly for his liking. Though, when he finally did read it, he was glad he had. His nerves had been racing at the idea of texting her, but when he saw her response it all melted away.

‘You sure did. Have a good night Arthur. P.S. Shitty class by the way, I didn’t even learn anything ;)’

He chuckled to himself and tossed his phone on his bed.

“What a woman.”

He stripped down to his boxers and flipped the lights off before collapsing in his bed. He knew he was going to be dogshit tired during class later that day, but he finds himself thinking it was worth it. Especially when he finally drifts to sleep and can only recall dreaming of a certain sneaky ballet teacher.

#arthur morgan #rdr #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #fluff #modern arthur morgan #teacher arthur morgan

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gotatext · 5 years ago

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TASK OO1 / OOC SURVEY.

[kermit voice] hallo.... its me

YOUR ALIAS & NICKNAMES — nora

AGE — 23

TIMEZONE — gmt

PREFERRED PRONOUNS — she/her

MBTI — enfp-infp border cos im an introvert who Masquerades as an extrovert :)

HP HOUSE — i spent 10 yrs of my life thinkin i was gryffindor.... to find out.... huffle....puff......

ARE YOU A STUDENT? WHAT DO YOU STUDY? — i fuckin wish! being a student was dope af i got stressed about essays like once a month and apart from that i was just chillin, surrounded by really intelligent people every day n livin it up on the party scene. adult life fucking sucks no one wants to have fun cos we all work fuckin tonnes of hours so we can afford to eat and get paid peanuts xx

ARE YOU ENJOYING IT? — im really afraid of bein one of those jock types who peaked in high school but i deff peaked in uni like 100% i was way more interesting 2 years ago

LINKS TO OTHER ACCOUNTS & SOCIAL MEDIA — im not showin u my instagram bc im a fuckin embarassment but this is pinterest , this is my personal blog, this is my writing / 1x1 blog i never use any more n this is my trash talking twitter where i mostly just cry about timothee chalamet and bash the tories.

DISCORD USER — kristine’s forehead vein#8664

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE FICTION GENRE? — i dont read fanfiction much but when i do u can be sure it’s slow burn angsty enemies to lovers mutual pining heart attack every time one of them accidentally brushes the other’s hand

TOP FIVE FAVOURITE FILMS — suspiria (2018 luca guadagnino version rogue i kno but i prefer the remake), the lobster, before sunrise, baz luhrmann romeo + juliet, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, thoroughbreds (REC!! so underwatched pls watch it. compelling female characters), hunt for the wilderpeople (also so underwatched), swiss army man, call me by your name, atonement, moonrise kingdom, trainspotting, the florida project. i rlly like films ok

A BOOK YOU FEEL “CHANGED” YOU? — the song of achilles by madeline miller n also fen by daisy johnson

A MOVIE YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN? — booksmart cos its fuckin dope

WHAT IS YOUR SIGN? — libra

ARE YOU INTO ASTROLOGY? — i like to pretend im super invested in it mostly to anger my friends but tbh.... i just use it as a rough guide for character creation.... its fun but i dnt .... fully invest in what it has to say..... altho i am the most unbalanced n indecisive bitch on earth so i guess they got that right !! i just live to please baybeyy!

WHAT PLATFORMS HAVE YOU ROLEPLAYED ON? — tumblr for about 8 year (omg) n before tht facebook..... i was very embarassingly in a twilight rp..... i wrote jane..... i also rped as a scene kid oc n when i was like 12 i was on some weird forum harry potter roleplay where i basically played a self insert with georgie henley as the fc......

WHAT OTHER HOBBIES DO YOU HAVE? — i used to have so many hobbies but now i jst lie in my bed staring at the ceiling. but before i was workin like a dog i loved reading, writing, acting in theatre productions..... going out on the town getting bevved..... big druggy EDM nights in warehouses tht probably weren’t liscenced for tht many ppl..... gigs... costume-design and making, spoken word poetry, acrylic painting n rollerskating but my sister broke my skates abt two years ago in vengeance and i’ll never forgive her that fuckin bitch

HAVE ANY PETS? IF SO, TALK ABOUT THEM! — no my landlord is a fascist

IS THERE A TV SHOW YOU RECOMMEND A LOT? — i’ll never stop reccing euphoria!! also i was pleasantly surprised by looking for alaska!! but i also rlly like bob’s burgers, parks and rec, good omens.... black mirror, n sharp objects. lovesick on bbciplayer (n netflix i think) is also rlly fun

ANY SHOWS YOU LIKE SOME MIGHT BE SURPRISED TO HEAR THAT YOU DO? — maybe love island, idk if i talk abt that much bc i am ashamed but i am so obsessed with it. i even got the love island game n got so invested in my fictional relationship w bobby tht i had to delete it

WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? WOULD YOU RECOMMEND IT? — god god... i haven’t finished a book in ages.... i recently started reading milkman by anna burns, the bees by laline paull and everything under by daisy johnson.... bt the last book i read cover to cover was probs circe. defs read it. feminist and witchy

CURRENTLY READING? — i jst said this but the bees, everything under and less so milkman cos im finding milkman a bit tough

LAST FILM? REC IT? — i watched ladyworld the lord of the flies all-female remake n even maya hawke could not save it.... dnt get me wrong from an art film point of view i loved it but it felt a bit underdeveloped n a level media studies for me..... apart from tht?? the runaways (yorkshire film not released yet at a preview screening) and threads (also a yorkshire film from the 80s about nuclear apocalypse)

THREE MOVIES YOU NEED TO WATCH — portrait of a lady on fire, i work at an independent cinema n we recently had a preview screening and everyone said it was SICK, uhhhh short term 12, n the new eliza scanlen movie babyteeth

WHAT MOVIE DO YOU THINK YOU’VE SEEN THE MOST TIMES? — madagascar because when i was 12 my parents bought me a little television with a dvd player in it for my birthday and madagascar was the only dvd i owned for like..... the first two years of havin the absolute luxury of a tv in my room so i just used to watch it all the time n i now basically know the script inside out

WHAT ALWAYS PUTS YOU IN A GOOD MOOD? — nothing, life is pointless n i hate fun, let me rot in peace

WHO IS YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICIAN / BAND? LIST IF THERE ARE MORE THAN ONE. — ughhh god probably lcd soundsystem. gorillaz, the streets, tame impala, talking heads, soft hair, i also love lizz tho n also angry twangy guitar girl bands like girlpool, courtney barnett, best coast, cherry glazerr,

WILD NIGHT OUT OR QUIET NIGHT IN? — quiet night in my party days are over i cant even be bothered to go to the shops if its past 4.30pm and dark these days

ANY PHOBIAS? — clowns n rats

DO YOU LIKE BUGS? — absolutely not

BIRDS? — yes but not if they fly in my face

ARE YOU A CAT OR DOG PERSON? BOTH? — i love both i want one

BIGGEST PET PEEVE? — tory middle aged boomers who treat me like actual shit on their shoe because i work in the service industry like thats my choice and their poor economic decisions didnt mean i have to do a shitty job to afford to live bcos of austerity n cuts to arts funding meaning i cant get a job writing unless i self-fund :)))

FAVOURITE THING ABOUT THE RPC? — that everyone ive met through rp is a fuckin LAFF

TOP TEN FAVE FCS TO USE? — god .... diana silvers, timothee chalamet, margaret qualley, kristine froseth, froy gutierrez, zendaya, elle fanning, astrid berges frisbey, hunter schafer, leonardo dicaprio

FIVE YOU LIKE WRITING AGAINST? — herman tomeraas, hunter schafer, saoirse ronan, timothee chalamet, froy gutierrez

FAVOURITE TYPE OF FOOD? — linda mccartney 1/2pounder mozzarella veggie burgers, sweet potato wedges, tomato soup, mozzarella sticks, brownies

WORST FOOD? — green things like broccoli n sprouts gross. baked beans cos as a kid ppl used to do baked bean baths for comic relief / red nosed day a lot n i thought when they were finished in the baked bean bath they just put all the cold beans back in the tin. actually anything small that moves around on your plate. peas. spaghetti. sweetcorn. i dont like small things i cant control.

DO YOU PLAY VIDEOGAMES? IF SO, WHAT ONES AND ON WHAT PLATFORM DO YOU PREFER? — last year my housemate had an xbox n i went through a phase of obsessively playin fable 3 it was amazing. i had like 5 husbands and 3 wives and loads of kids but they all ended up leavin me cos i spent so much time out doing quests neglecting them

ANYTHING ELSE YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE TAG? — this

LASTLY, HOW DID YOU FIND US? — im one of those bitches who was in this grp all the way back when it was swipe... so quirky and original!! i knew the band before u! anyway im goin now this has been sufficiently embarassing..... i am lame

#huntingtonooc #huntingtontask #huntingtontask001

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zayashmaya · 6 years ago

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Gods and Monsters - 3 - Off to the Races.

Other chapters here!

Marvus x Reader; SFW

Your favorite clown comes to your rescue.

My ... man is a tough man But he's got a soul as sweet as blood red jam And he shows me, He knows me Every inch of my tar-black soul

- Lana Del Rey

You didn’t see Lanque for the rest of the evening, which was all fine and well once you were two drinks into some serious shit on the dance floor. Remele certainly knew her audience — the purplebloods in attendance had quickly taken control once they trickled in with fashionable lateness, and everything had been set up for the ensuing clownery that followed. With Marvus at your side and your veins flooded with dubious alcohol, you felt nigh unstoppable, letting loose your inhibitions among a sea of trolls who would have killed you on the spot in a fit of capriciousness.

But a few of the clowns had come by to ruffle your hair and honk at you in recognition for having been a frequent presence in the church. You’ve certainly come far from the days of running for your life and getting trapped in an alleyway with a purpleblood seconds away from bludgeoning you to death. You kind of like them now.

And you definitely liked the way Marvus watched you as you swayed to the dizzying rhythm of pulsating music. Even his hands caressing your bare skin sent ripples of ticklish excitement throughout your body. It felt so different from when you had danced with Lanque. More on your terms, so to speak, and thus more thrilling. All in good fun, you thought. It’s not like he was serious about his flirting, anyway.

The purplebloods finished off the party with a frenzy of rapping that Marvus felt compelled to join. Stelsa had found her way to your side and eagerly followed your lead as you both giggled and danced your sanity away. You recognized some of Marvus’s lyrics from a few performances you had attended, and screamed your head off with the crowd as you sang along, feeling the heat of the lighting and the blurring colors collapsing all over you in swirling synesthesia, until you embraced the euphoric sensations and became one with the music.

Chucklevoodoos, a voice whispered through the cracks of your fraying mind.

Who cares, you answered back. I want this. I want this.

I feel whole.

Marvus was watching you. You felt compelled to direct your entire attention solely to him, not to any other highblood or to Stelsa but to him and him alone, and for a moment you heard the cheers of partygoers distorted into screams of pain before he beckoned you over with his arms spread out in theatrical showmanship. You clawed your way through the masses and into his waiting embrace, laughing for no reason and yet there was every reason to laugh —

“Snap out of it babe,” he said as he directed the microphone away from him, and even though the cracks were suddenly breaking and collapsing like shattered glass, all you could think of was how he said it just for you, only you, only you —

“What if I don’t want to,” you whispered, but nobody heard your admission.

As your fingers dug into the lapels of his jacket, you pressed up against him and scanned the crowd in a moment of clarity. Stelsa. Was she safe? Did you imagine all of the blood and death and fire?

Marvus’s arm was wrapped around your back as he held you close during the madness. You ran a shaky hand through your hair and wondered where the night would lead, because the highbloods were getting a little too rowdy. A gentle pat to your behind pulled you out of your thoughts, and you threw a scandalized look to Marvus as he grinned down at you. With the microphone poised before him, he called out to the partygoers, “Hey.”

That simple word held all the weight of an important command. The crowd fell silent, and a shiver rolled down your spine. You pressed your forehead to his side and tried to make yourself seem as small as possible, conscious of being stared at by so many people.

“Yall havin a good time??” The crowd roared to life in answer. “Lemme hear u give it up for the mutherfxxer who made it all happen, ufeelme?!”

Amidst the chorus of cheers, Remele bounced up to the clearing where Marvus waited for her, snatching the microphone out of his hand and baring her fangs in a wide smile as she addressed her attendees. You huffed a quiet laugh as you listened to her shill out her latest art pieces and advertise her gallery.

“ — and I woulde like to thank one of my best supporters, my very goode friend and my darling muse!"

You jerked your head towards Remele as she zeroed in on you. “Please, no — “ you begged, but she already grabbed hold of your upper arm and snatched you out of Marvus’s embrace. You looked back at him in a silent plea, but he only winked at you and flashed his toothy grin.

Remele whirled you around to face the crowd. The spotlight was on you now.

You meekly waved and prayed for the ground to swallow you whole. “Tonighte, dear guests, I have a confession to make,” she dramatically said, her eyes flashing in excitement. “Were it not for our resident alien, my gallery might never have gotten so muche recognition! Because she was responsible for the gruesome murder of a highbloode mere steps from my gallery, all of those perigees ago!"

”Remele!” you screamed in a whisper, withering away from the crowd as it erupted into bewildered laughter and indiscernible heckling. “What are you doing?! They’re going to kill me!”

And not just the attendees, but Marvus, too. God, you could hardly bring yourself to look at him, because even though Remele was technically the one who killed the purpleblood, you were still pathetic enough to get yourself into trouble in the first place, and the last thing you ever wanted was for him to catch wind of your fucked up escapades, and now your mind was racing a mile a minute but Marvus was just looking at you with raised eyebrows, and he didn’t look angry, just thoughtful —

“Oh, relax,” Remele cut into your mental breakdown, ignoring your attempts to claw your way out of her grasp — she was ridiculously strong — and continued her speech. “In honor of my muse, I have channeled my inspiration for that fateful nighte to create — “ She threw her arm out in a wide arc and directed everyone’s attention to a covered canvas mounted to a wall. ” — this!”

A rustblood scuttled over as if on cue and tore down the white fabric covering the canvas. All eyes were on Remele’s latest painting. Perhaps now was your chance to abscond? Maybe you could use this precious time to find Stelsa and hightail it out of here with one last ‘fuck you’ to Lanque —

Except your attention was entirely captured by the painting as soon as you dared to glance at it.

You were the subject, pressed flat against a dark wall and limbs splayed out like a cheesy damsel in distress, gripping the brick behind you as you stared at the viewer, all wide-eyed and afraid. And, much to your mortification, you were naked — or rather, lacking any sort of clothing while retaining no bodily features characteristic of your sex. Remele had never seen you naked, after all. Rather imaginative of her to paint you completely sexless and alabaster white, with red and purple stains blotched over your figure as though you were covered in blood.

What the fuck, Remele. Did you really look that pathetic to her that night?

Your mouth simply hung open in shock while the audience ascertained the painting with thoughtful murmurs. Remele waited with baited breath, whispering to you, ”Just you waite and see, I’m gonna be fuqueing loaded after this!”

Suddenly, a voice rose high over the crowd and called out what appeared to be a price.

Remele squeeled. You felt your soul leave your body. That better not have been Zebruh.

As if on cue, an intense bidding war began over the painting. You closed your eyes and hung your head, letting Remele flop your arm around like a limp noodle in joy as the price rose higher and higher still. This was it — your lowest point. Your cowardly self on display for other people’s pleasure, awaiting a lifetime of being gawked at by a privileged highblood. And worst of all, you weren’t even going to get a cut of the profits.

Within minutes, the haggling price had skyrocketed to what you imagined to be astronomical numbers. Most of the bidders had dropped out as well, with just a select few voices trying to outbid each other. A small part of you was surprised that they hadn’t attempted to resolve the conflict with good, old-fashioned murder and mayhem. Judging by the growing agitation in the bidders’ voices and the heckling of the crowd, that outcome might not be far off from the future.

And indeed mayhem ensued. Four highbloods had rendered each other into a pile of limbs and — and bicycle horns — before Remele threw her hand into the air and called out, “Looks like it’s time to wrap this shitshowe up! Going once, going twice, to the gentlemane with the facepaint and broken horne — "

A hand came down over your head and ruffled your hair. Somehow, you knew everything would be okay.

“Na b i’ma take dat home tonite,” Marvus cut Remele off. “I’ll take it for dubble tha price k :o)“

”Solde!” she shouted into the microphone, and you breathed a sigh of audible relief.

Yet your momentary reprieve was ruined once you realized that Marvus had spent a ridiculous amount of money on a scandalous painting that he had no need for. A sense of guilt hung over you as Marvus waited for the canvas to be brought to him, keeping a steadying grip on your shoulder and commanding someone nearby to hand over the payment on his behalf.

“You really didn’t have to do that, Marvus,” you quietly said, tugging on his sleeve to catch his attention.

He merely grinned. “I did dis for a more selfish reason than u think.”

“Why? Don’t tell me you actually wanted that thing?”

“Fxxk yea i did brohime, i wanna b lookin at dis erry day to remember i got one dangerous lil mama who could knock me flat on my azz n paint da walls w my blood. Shit’s hot yo.”

“I’m sorry to break the fantasy, but Remele was pretty much embellishing her story. I didn’t actually kill anyone, I would never do that!” you whined.

“Mebbe not then,” he said, his eyes staring straight through you as though he knew more than you let on. “But u prolly did a whole lotta damage to otha ppl jus by being on dis planet. A wicked shorty like u can’t survive here for dis long w/o causing sum mischief. Basically, u iz one dangerous lil alien.”

Discomfort gripped your heart. Marvus was right; you were inadvertently responsible for a few deaths. Thankfully none of your friends suffered from your magnetic ability to welcome danger —

— Karako bleeding out from his stab wounds, seadwellers laughing in the distance —

— Daraya engulfed in flames as she fought through the pain —

— Boldir’s life withering away right before your eyes —

— Zebruh’s limbs torn apart in a frenzy of bloodlust —

You jolted and blinked through a haze of phosphenes coloring your vision. What were you thinking about again?

“Hey, it b ok u know.” Right, Marvus. Focus back on him. The painting is under his arm now, mercifully covered up so you didn’t have to look at it again. You welcomed the cold seeping into the skin of your shoulder from his touch. “U ain’t gotta b lookin so sad, doll. It just b dat way around here.”

You sucked in a shaky breath and mustered up a smile. “I know. And I guess if there’s anyone who I’d rather keep the painting, it would be you.”

Marvus lightly papped you on the cheek with the back of his hand. But before he could get a word in, Remele suddenly draped herself over you from behind. “Hello my sweete muse, please text me whenever you’re free againe; I’m going to make a livinge off of you!”

“Of course," you hastily replied, eager to worm your way out of her grasp and disappear. “I’m so … grateful that you painted such a — a charming rendition of me. You’ve truly outdone yourself!”

“It’s fxxn aces,” Marvus pipped up.

“Thank you so muche!” she gushed, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was amping up the charm for his sake. Her tactics were so shameless sometimes, but you loved her for it. You weren’t that much different from her in that regard.

“By the way, Remele, have you seen my friend Stesla anywhere around here? You know, the tealblood who speaks without stopping to breathe.”

“Ummm,” Remele hummed, tapping her cheek with a finger as she looked around. “She shoulde be lurking somewhere in the back, methinks. Thanks for introducing us, she’s gonna be so fuqueing useful in the long run. Juste like you!”

“How kind of you to say,” you humorlessly said.

“Mhm! Anyway, I muste get going. Goodbye, sweete muse!” And off she went, gone in a flash to conduct more mischief.

Marvus tapped you atop your head. “Hey.” You looked up to his sneaky face. “U lookin about as done w all dis as i b. Wanna bounce?”

Oh you sure as fuck did. The weight of tonight’s eventful party was finally starting to come down on you. “How do you always know? I’m starting to think you have some sort of savior complex.”

“Juss for funny lil hornless aliens who hang around weirdos.”

“Are you a weirdo, too, Marvus?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Hellz yea fam, but maybe not as much as u.”

“I am not!" you laughed, lightly swatting his forearm as you two walked towards where your instincts told you Stesla might be. “But seriously, thank you for getting me out of here."

“Don’t b thankin me just yet lil mama — maybe I got sum nefarious plans cookin in my think pan,” he teased and winked.

You chuckled. “I’m sure whatever you’re thinking of would be a million times preferable to being mobbed by frenzied trolls.”

“Ye tru. Lemme take u home, babe. Need me a lil bit of company in my sicknasty limo.”

“Oh, you didn’t come here with the other purplebloods?”

The corner of his grin turned up higher. “Sure did, but they ain’t who i’m lookin’ to take home tonite.”

You furrowed your brows at the strange phrasing — why would Marvus be so eager to take me back to my dilapidated hive instead of enjoying his friends’ wild company — but Stesla’s fashionable physique was in sight beside the restrooms, dabbing her face with a small powder puff while looking into a compact mirror. You called out to her in greeting, and she instantly perked up, hiding her cosmetics away in her purse before skipping up to you.

“OH MY GOODNESS DARLING THERE YOU ARE I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER GET TO YOU TONIGHT HOW ARE YOU DID YOU SEE THAT INCREDIBLE PAINTING MY IT WAS SIMPLY EXQUISITE I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THE MARVUS XOLOTO ACQUIRED IT — “

You practically pounced on her with a killer hug that would have knocked the air out of a human. But Stelsa was a force of nature in her own right, and as such, merely squeaked and hugged you back.

“I am feeling a little overwhelmed right now, Stelsa,” you confessed, murmuring into her chest before slinking out of her grasp to look at her. “I think I’m ready to leave now. Did you want to stay a little longer, or can I drop you off back home?”

“I SIMPLY CANNOT LEAVE JUST YET THERE IS STILL MUCH TO DISCUSS WITH REMELE AND SO MANY NEW POTENTIAL CLIENTS TO MEET HERE I WILL HAVE TO STAY BUT DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME PLEASE HURRY ON HOME AND REST YOU MUST BE EXHAUSTED AFTER THAT BIDDING DEBACLE AND I SEE THAT A CERTAIN SOMEONE IS WAITING FOR YOU — “ Stelsa peered over the top of your head in the least discrete way possible. Unbeknownst to you, Marvus waved back. “MY OH MY IT’S A GOOD THING I MANAGED TO PRIMP YOU UP BEFORE THE PARTY JUST LOOK AT YOU GETTING LUCKY HMMM?”

Your mind had wandered during her monologuing, so it took you a moment for her last statement to shock you back into reality. “Th — that, that isn’t what’s happening!” you hissed in a quiet whisper, blushing brightly at her implication. “He’s just my ride home, don’t be preposterous. Anyway, are you sure you’ll manage on your own here? I’m worried about leaving you with all of these highbloods around. What if you get caught in another deadly moshpit or whatever?”

Stelsa giggled and placed her hands on her hips. “DON’T BE SILLY I CAN HANDLE MYSELF JUST FINE I DON’T WORK OUT FOR NOTHING YOU KNOW.” Oh, that’s right. You forgot Stelsa was ripped.

“I’ll trust you … but I’m not letting you go that easy!” You fished out your phone and quickly got to texting. “I’m going to let Tyzias know that I need to leave you here. And you better send me a message when you get home, or else I’ll go looking for you, and you know what happens when I have a mission in mind; things can either go horribly right or horribly wrong — “

“YES YES DARLING I WILL BE SURE TO DO SO THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH A LOVELY FRIEND NOW DON’T KEEP YOUR OTHER FRIEND WAITING TOODLES AND BE SAFE!”

She urged you along before you could get another word in, and you nearly stumbled like a clumsy fool if not for Marvus catching your fall. “Reddy reddy, buddy?”

“Ready ready,” you breathlessly replied, graciously allowing him to lead you away hand-in-hand.

The crowd parted for the both of you on your way out. You caught a glimpse of a few glares and reddened eyes being thrown at you, and if you had a death wish, you might have stuck your tongue out at them. But you were a flimsy human with too much to lose now, so you stared straight ahead and focused on matching Marvus’s quick strides.

The quietness of the outside was jarring to your senses after enduring the loud music and boisterous socializing. Alternia's twin moons cast their colored rays onto your shimmering skin, lighting it up in a dazzling shine that could not meet its full potential under artificial light. Your vibrant glow must have caught Marvus's attention — he turned to look at you with widened eyes and paused his step. “Damn, lil mama,” he smoothly cooed, beckoning you into a twirl as he admired you from all angles. “Now I know I said earlier that u be lookin good an all dat, but dis is sum wild shit.”

You giggled. “It’s just the wicked glow of the Mirthful Messiahs watching over me,” you said and pointed to the sky with a smile. “Get it? Two moons, two prophets.”

“Amen, baby. The messiahs are errywhere and in errything,” he replied, guiding you towards the limo with an arm swung around your shoulders.

The driver was waiting patiently, bowing in respect as he opened the door for you. For a brief moment, you spared Lanque one final thought and wondered how his night had gone after your mini feud got cut short. But with Marvus hot on your heel as you clamored into the limo, you decided that your mental energy had better trolls to focus on.

#homestuck #hiveswap #friendsim #marvus xoloto #marvus xoloto/reader #marvus/reader #marvus x reader #marvus xoloto x reader #remele namaaq #stelsa sezyat #gods and monsters #fanfic #lanque bombyx #lanque x reader #lanque/reader #lanque bombyx/reader

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darcyfirth · 7 years ago

Text

Hartwin fic recs (2/?)

[Long post]

These are lovingly saved in my laptop's Kindle and I love them dearly. It's umbrellas this time, glasses if I made part 3.

Authors' tagged tropes are included and I tried my best not to include spoilers. As usual my comments are in italics.

☂️ Sparking - LapisLazuli. E, 2k. Traped in a closet trope.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Harry whispers, calm as you please, as if Eggsy’s face isn’t pressed directly into the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder, as if Eggsy isn’t drowning in the fucking scent of his cologne, as if the fabric of his bespoke suit isn’t caressing Eggsy’s cheek like a goddamn lover.

☂️ Red Striped Ties - violentcheese. G, 1k. Red string of fate AU.

"Eggsy is the ragamuffin kid who refuses to stop hanging the Kingsman Tailor shop because he has a crush on Harry Hart, the owner."

Eggsy follows his string patiently. Harry ignores his.

☂️ You Get Up With Fleas - evil_brainmate. T, 74k. Corgi/prince!Eggsy. My first time prompting someone (with my old url) and the result is so much more than I expected.

Eggsy is a fairy prince, trapped in the human world and cursed to transform each day into a corgi. Harry Hart is a gentleman spy, and mortal, who picks him up thinking he's a stray. The two of them must work together to find a way to break the curse.

☂️ Paint With all the Colours of the Wind - Della19. G, 1k. Soulmates AU.

Harry x Eggsy soulmate au where you only see colour once you meet your soulmate (so you don’t know them until you see them).

And it goes away when they die.

☂️ our vintage misery - fideliant. E, 23k. Pining, slow burn.

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?

On a difficulty scale of one to saving the world, love shouldn't be this far off the charts.

☂️ into the wails of your windfight - fideliant. E, 8k. Pining.

It takes a mission gone wrong for Eggsy to find out that even in real life, the dead don't always stay dead. Sometimes the movies get that part right, it would seem.

☂️ Class Of Conduct - fideliant. E, 13k. Slow burn.

Or, Six Things Eggsy Has Learned About Being A Gentleman

“Lesson number one,” Harry says. “Manners matter.”

☂️ Random Access Memories - fideliant. E, 20k. Memory loss.

Having a supercomputer in your head isn't all that much to be cracked up about.

☂️ down dark tides the glory slides - fideliant. E, 23k. Pining, memory loss.

You only ever truly hurt the ones you love.

☂️ Or Else - breakdancingfish. M, 4k.

Before they’re allowed to go out on their own, Eggsy and Roxy form a four person team with Harry and Merlin, completing several missions together. Oh, and Harry is the world’s biggest tease. Of course.

☂️ We Are Faking It - lokidiabolus. T, 62k. Fake relationship, slow burn.

For Eggsy it was a thing - he was taking from Harry enough, now was the time he should give something back. Even if it meant playing his lover to get the mission going and catch the culprit. Who would it be if not him, right? Right.

☂️ 57 Degrees. Precisely. - Galahard. M, 6k. Marine!Eggsy, texing, coffee shop AU.

In an alternate world Eggsy goes into the Marines, and stays in the Marines. This is a take on that au, though please forgive my lack of actual Marine knowledge. Also included: finicky coffee drinkers, texting addictions, and baristas with ulterior motives.

☂️ A Not So Lazy Evening - Galahard. E, 3k. Bottom!Harry, PWP. Really good read.

☂️ Vermillion - Galahard. E, 14k. Shy!Harry, slow burn.

He didn't know what to do with that. He didn't blush. He wasn't some teenager to be so affected by anything Eggsy did. Though really, he couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at someone and not pictured them in his bed but rather his dining room, chowing down on too sugary cereal while loudly revealing his plans for the day.

☂️ Soulmates - Galahard. 1k. Soulmates AU. How much do I adore this? A lot.

For Harry Hart's 16th birthday he not only gets his soul mark.

He gets a complete sentence.

☂️ Withdrawal - Saucery. T, 1k. Pining, finger kink.

Eggsy goes into withdrawal without Harry’s touch.

☂️ The Language of Flowers - Saucery. M, 1k. Flower shop AU, florist!Eggsy, lawyer!Harry, meet-cute, mutual pining.

Eggsy is a florist with an attitude. Harry is a lawyer with a conscience. Flowers bring them together.

☂️ The King’s Thief - twentyfourblackbirds. T, 8k.

"Harry," Eggsy said one day, while Harry was deep in a report about weapons smuggling in Ukraine. "I really fancy you." "Mmm-hmm," Harry responded, flipping to another chapter about airline safety standards in Indonesia. "If I had to say it," Eggsy mused, slightly put out, "I would, in fact, say that I am deeply, wildly, and madly in love with you." "That's very good, Eggsy," Harry said absentmindedly, scrawling his signature at the bottom of the paper. Eggsy sighed. "Sometimes, I might think you don't listen to a word I say."

☂️ Patience and Sheer Determinaiton - blacktofade. E, 47k. Fake relationship, prostitute!Eggsy.

Harry goes undercover to infiltrate the circle of a corrupt overlord and is given Eggsy, a young prostitute, as a token of goodwill. Harry has to live with Eggsy and keep him safe, while maintaining his cover.

☂️ Care and Custody - esama. T, 50k.

Eggsy takes out the medal in slightly worse circumstances, asking for a miracle.

☂️ How Eggsy Met Harry, As Told Through A Series of Soul Marks - thayde. 91k. Soulmates AU, WIP. I would warn you that this hasn't been updated for a long time now but if you have a brave heart then march on soldier.

Eggsy stares at the Mark on his chest sometimes, and wonders if his soulmate would ever settle for street trash like him.

☂️ Boyfriend Material - Deepdarkwaters. E, 3k. Mutual pining, oblivious!Eggsy.

"Are you a cigarette? Cos you're smoking hot and I wanna put your butt in my mouth."

☂️ Pig Latin - aerospaces. E, 10k. Fluff.

In Kenya, Eggsy falls off a flight of stairs. Or: lessons in cohabitation.

Eggsy discovers the joys of a home-cooked meal among many other things.

☂️ Considerably Less Cannibalism - LizaPod. E, 6k. Shaving, barebacking. This one is the myth, the legend, the fic.

It is a real, physical struggle to not stare like a dogger while Harry shrugs off his jacket and undoes his collar, sets his signet ring aside. He has detailed, minutely detailed, fantasies about unbuttoning that fucking collar. At least he’s not wearing the holster right now, or Eggsy’d be sprung already. “It’s time you learned the fine art of the straight razor shave.”

Eggsy gives him his best you havin’ a fucking giggle, mate eyebrows. “Like Sweeney Todd?”

Harry’s sigh is just bordering on melodramatic, but he’s also got that odd— Roxy calls it enigmatic—smile he gets when Eggsy trots out some unexpected bit of culture. "Yes, Eggsy, like Sweeney Todd."

☂️ Kiss Me Now (before I can run) - persephoneggsy. M, 37k. Soulmates AU.

It wasn’t unusual, Eggsy told himself. There were plenty of people- just a little under half of the world’s population, really- that weren’t with their soulmates. Some of them just hadn’t met yet; others had died beforehand; and then there were the people in Eggsy’s situation. Sometimes people genuinely didn’t want their soulmates. Either they were in love with someone else, or they just didn’t like what they got stuck with, and Eggsy imagined the latter was very much the case with him and Harry. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt like for him, the world’s prime example of a posh bloke, to have his soulmate be some beaten-up kid. He would have rejected him too.

Or: soulmate AU where you know your soulmate from the moment you touch them, and when you do, their name gets written over your heart like a brand. But that's not always a guarantee.

☂️ “It suits you, you should keep it” - eggsystolemyhart. G, 600-ish.

"What...?"

"Pardon, Eggsy."

"What...?"

"Did you not hear me previously? I said it suits you, you should keep it."

"What...?"

☂️ Five Stars, Would Shag Again - EmmyAngua. E, 6k. Seduction.

This time, the penultimate task isn’t to seduce an heiress, it’s to seduce an agent. Merlin assures the final three that the agent is chosen entirely at random.

So of *course* it’s Harry.

☂️ are we human, or are we dynamite - randomhorse. M, 13k. Pacific Rim AU.

It’s been seventeen years since Harry has lost his co-pilot Lee Unwin in the drift, and still the world won’t stop ending.

In the Hong Kong Shatterdome, Merlin is launching a new line of Kingsman Jaegers fit to fight Category 4 Kaijus emerging from the Breach.

In the suburbs of London, Eggsy Unwin gets the draft for Jaeger Academy.

☂️ who got the keys to my bimmer - hartwinning. M, 69k. Mutual pining, mechanic!Eggsy, UST, slow burn.

"What's the difference between a BMW and a porcupine?"

Harry gives him a slightly bewildered look and furrows his brow.

"A porcupine has the pricks on the outside," Eggsy finishes.

☂️ hold courage to your chest - Fahye. E, 46k. I adore this.

Eggsy slumps against the wall, feeling every bruise like it's new, and tells the truth.

"You want to make sure I jump when I'm told?" he demands. "It'd better be you doing the telling, Harry."

☂️ Bang to Rights - concernedlily. E, 17k. Police AU.

Constable Unwin never met a tailor before, but he knows this bloke who keeps turning up at his crime scenes ain't one.

☂️ Breakeven - theshizniiit (orphan_account). E, 85k. Omega!Harry, mpreg.

When Harry walked inside the church (and then out of it, and right into Valentine's bullet) he didn't know he was pregnant.

And now he's back from the dead. This time, with an extra passenger and quite a few problems.

☂️ The New Age - DivineProjectZero. Soulmates AU.

It starts with being cursed.

No, scratch that. It starts with a garden and a serpent. And no, it goes a little differently from what you’d think.

☂️ You Are Beautiful - Sheepie. G, 8k. Coffee shop AU.

Eggsy Unwin works as a barista at the Suited Bean. He's been in love with regular customer Harry Hart for a long time, but he never said anything. Who would want to date someone his size? But Harry sees nothing wrong with the way Eggsy looks.

☂️ Couple of (Couples) Mugs - ilokheimsins. T, 2k. Fluff.

Harry and Eggsy absolutely do not have couples mugs that proclaim their love for one another. Harry is about 70 percent sure of this.

☂️ Gimme All Your Love - midnightsurge. M, 11k. Fireman!Eggsy, rimming.

“Sorry,” a soothing, male voice started hesitantly, “but… didn’ I pull you out of a burnin’ building a few weeks ago?”

Harry nearly choked on his drink as the question registered in his mind, his brown eyes flicking to the side to confirm that, yes indeed, it was Eggsy standing there with wide eyes.

“Fuck, sorry!” Eggsy apologised profusely as he held his hands up, wanting to help but unsure how to do so. “Ain’t meant to startle you!”

Eggsy is a fireman. He saves Harry's life when a mission goes awry. A few weeks later, they meet again.

☂️ Rules of Insanity - inthepapers3times. E, 54k. Dark!Eggsy.

The worst mistake of Harry Hart’s life started like many of the minor mistakes he had made: with a one night stand. If only he had taken the taxi all the way to his house. Maybe then he wouldn't have met this particular young man, and he wouldn't have taken him home. Maybe then all of this could have been avoided.

Harry gets pulled into a dangerous game with Gary, a disturbed man he barely knows, and has no choice but to play along.

Gary is in control completely. He makes the rules. Harry is just forced to follow them.

☂️ dig in your fingers - kirkaut. E, 42k. First time, body worship.

The lack of a silver suppository has set Eggsy upon a certain path. The way that Eggsy looks, dripping wet and half naked, sets Harry on another.

(Or: Total Canon Re-Write, aka The One Where Harry's Libido Saves His Life)

☂️ sins without tragedies - kingstier. T, 11k. 5 + 1. Fake marriage.

"Harry, are we married?"

"Aren't we?"

Or, the five times they're practically married and the one time they're not (yet).

☂️ 5 Knots Harry made + 1 Knot Eggsy tied - therune. T, 2k. 5 + 1. I love this immensely!

Whenever Eggsy gets dressed in his suit he purposefully skips a button or struggles with his tie so that Harry is forced to step into his personal space and fix it for him.

☂️ Like Real People Do - coloursflyaway. T, 3k. 5 + 1. Undercover, first kiss.

Five times Eggsy called Harry a pet name, and one time Harry called Eggsy one.

#hartwin #kingsman #hartwin fic #harry hart #eggsy unwin #fic rec #kingsman fics #ao3 #M/M #Darcyfirth's lists #i wanted to include several more #but they're deleted :(#like blessed are the thieves who stole my heart #it was a wip but so so good

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