#n then i see myself n while i see an independent carefree person who's at peace with herself there's also a tinge! of! melancholy n pining..

[monstermp3]

.

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from two anons. No crying involved but definitely an anxiety-inducing situation for RC if that makes any sense. Enjoy! ♥

Words: 2118 Warnings: brief mention of past abusive relationship, attempted rape

“Honey, don’t you think you have enough candy by now? Who’s gonna eat all that?”

“Me!” Your niece stuck out her tongue as she half-walked, half-jumped through one of the many dimly-lit hallways. Her pumpkin basket was full to the brim already but, as you had suspected, there was no stopping her. You did not mind. You weren’t exactly keen on the annual Dauntless Halloween party in the pit. Lots of alcohol, sweaty bodies and so much fake blood it would take you weeks to get it all out of your clothes, off of your body and your hair. You didn’t hate Halloween, in fact you loved it. But you would rather curl up on the sofa in your tiny apartment reading a good book instead of drinking yourself into a coma.

Your niece looked unbelievably cute in her witch costume. Long ginger hair stuck out from under the pointy hat with the fluffy spider sitting on top. She’d had a little black broom as well—and you were not surprised you had had to keep carrying it after only three apartments already.

She was bound to get tired soon, so you kept telling yourself. You could already see yourself becoming a blanket burrito with a steaming mug full of hot chocolate and some of the leftover sweets you yourself had bought for the other children prior to trick or treating with your niece. You were so lost in thought that you only realised too late she had already started at the next apartment door and gave it a vigorous knock.

“Honey, no, not this one!” Shit. Only a few heartbeats later, the door opened.

“Trick or Treat!” She cried out. She was grinning as she held out her pumpkin basket, waiting patiently for her next victim to give her even more sweets. Only the person who had opened her hardly seemed impressed and instead raised an eyebrow at her. Eric used one of his muscly arms to lean against the threshold, his gaze wandering back and forth between your niece and you.

No one ever dared to knock on Eric’s door, presuming he would breathe down their neck for even considering he would give out candy to enthusiastic little children. Unfortunately, your niece did not know that.

Eventually, his gaze came to rest on you.

“I am so sorry, she was too fast.”

“What happened to your face?” He asked instead of reacting to your half-hearted apology. Oh, right. Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks turning crimson red. You had let your niece put some Halloween make-up on you. There was a giant spider with big orange eyes sitting on your right cheek while she had decorated the left with a black spider web. One thing was for sure, your niece would not become the next Picasso.

“Nothing… my niece thought we should match.” And perhaps next Halloween, she should turn you into a mouse so you could hide in a mouse hole to save yourself from Eric’s scrutinising—and now also downright amused—glance. There was a slight hint of mockery sparkling in his blue eyes as well, so you noticed when he stirred.

“Let me see if I can find something.” Oh. That was unexpected. As he disappeared, leaving his apartment door open, you just stood there dumbfounded all the while your niece tripped on the spot all carefree and blithe. This wasn’t really happening, was it? This was literally your nightmare before Christmas!

About a minute later, Eric returned. In his hands, he held a massive bar of Hershey’s chocolate. It was one of those treats only the leaders of Dauntless were privileged enough to receive every now and then. Your niece’s jaw dropped, eyes widening.

“There you go. You think you’ll be able to carry that?”

“Yes! I’m strong!” She pointed out, emphasising her words by making a muscle with her free arm. “Thank you!” As soon as she had accepted the chocolate, she was already off to the next apartment door. Only you still stood there, seemingly frozen in place.

“Uh… thank you.” You managed to choke out sheepishly.

“You’re welcome…” He mumbled in response. “I’ll see you at the party later.” And with that, he closed the door on you, once again leaving you standing there completely dumbfounded.

You had seen him around on Halloween. Eric never dressed up. Instead, he spent the night sitting at the bar all by himself, occasionally chatting to his fellow leaders and sipping some whiskey—completely unimpressed by his fellow Dauntless members’ craziness and excessive alcohol consumption. In that aspect, he was pretty much like you.

You spent the rest of your niece’s trick or treating pondering over his words. You were certainly overthinking it but what exactly had he meant by that? Did he expect you to show up? You had not planned on going. Would it be rude not to show up now? Jesus, it wasn’t like he had asked you out on a date. Eric was merely not as cold and condescending towards you than to others, perhaps because you always made an effort to be nice and polite to him, especially during your initiation.

And yet, once your niece was returned to your sister and you finally rid yourself of all that make-up on your face, you found yourself picking out something to wear to the party. It was almost like your hot chocolate, book and blanket sighed when you left your apartment and headed to the pit instead.

Halloween was on a full moon this year. Maybe you were going crazy. What were you even expecting? In the end, you settled for wanting to prove to Eric that you were a social person who would not curl up all alone on a day like Halloween—that you were tough; that you were Dauntless.

But you were beginning to regret your decision as soon as you reached the pit. Exuberant laughter and chatting along with loud music nearly blew your ears off, the smell of sweat and alcohol immediately numbing your senses. You coughed a little as you started fighting your way through the dancing crowd, your legs stirring you towards the bar almost automatically. Yep, definitely crazy, you thought to yourself.

At least your make-up was a little more on fleek now. You had gone for a mysterious vamp-look, with smoky eyes and dark-red lipstick, a black dress and your knee-high combat boots to complete your appearance. You felt quite sexy but then again, nothing could quite compete with some cosy pumpkin pyjamas.

“Hey, sweetheart… Can I buy you a drink?” Great. There went another reason for which you hated parties like that. Glancing to your left from the corner of your eye, you spotted an already tipsy man dressed up like a zombie approaching you.

“No, thank you. I can pay for it myself.”

“Don’t have to. I’ll pay for it if you’ll dance with me.”

“No, thank you.” You repeated, a little louder and sterner this time. But instead of letting it go, the man stepped right in front of you. He looked still young, probably among the new recruits who had recently passed initiation.

“What are you so scared of? It’s just a drink.” Only ‘just a drink’ was usually accompanied by the expectation of more than just dancing. You were not wary because of prejudice. You were wary because of personal experience in your old faction and an abusive ex-boyfriend.

“Come on, Drake.” The young man joining him was dressed like a zombie as well. They had done well with their make-up. They were nearly unrecognisable. “It’s not your fault you look like a troll. Allow me to buy the lady a drink.”

Annoyed, you rolled your eyes. “I appreciate it but I don’t want either of you to buy me a drink. Let me through, please.” Perhaps you should go find your friends.

Oh, it had been such a stupid idea to ditch hot chocolate and your warm blanket for this, for Eric. But whatever had gotten into you, you were too stubborn to accept the consequences. Only when you attempted to move past them, they cornered you. Two warm bodies pressed against you, one from the front, one from behind. You shuddered when their hands made a move to wander up and down your arms and waist, moving to the rhythm of the ear-piercing music—and even though everything inside of you screamed to lash out at them and make use of your combat skills, you forced yourself to keep calm.

“Let go of me, you scumbags.” You hissed. You’d give them ten seconds at most. If they did not let go of you until then you would kick the shit out of them. One, two, three…

“You’re in Dauntless, act like it.” They were not entirely wrong, so you hated to admit. The majority of men and women here in Dauntless made no secret out of their countless one-nightstands. Sneaking off and making out in semi-public places was risky, reckless and brave all at the same time—even your friends had told you about the adrenaline rush.

Four, five, six…

“She said no.” A stern voice suddenly came to your rescue. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to. Eric stood like a particularly intimidating bouncer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as he positioned himself behind you with his arms crossed.

“Eric! Come join us. We should take this happy ensemble to a quieter place. Ever had a foursome, love?”

“She said no. Take your hands off her before I rip them out and throw them down the chasm. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’ve passed initiation now.”

“Geez, spoilsport. Come on, Drake.”

“I was about to handle this myself.” You hastened to explain when they finally staggered off, lifting your chin up in a proud and independent manner. Eric slightly raised his eyebrows. Well, at least the reason for your presence at this uncomfortable party was here now.

“I know.” Apparently, he’d been headed for the bar as well. With your heart in your mouth, you found yourself following him until you finally reached your destination and asked the barkeeper for a cold beer. Eric went with his traditional whiskey.

“You’re shaking.” He remarked, arms crossed on the counter.

“I’m cold.”

“Cold? This is a sauna. You were afraid of what they might do to you.” He said matter-of-factly and oddly, without any hint of scorn in his voice. The urge to react all defensive overwhelmed you nonetheless.

“So? I went through one abusive relationship, I’m not keen on going through that again because some arseholes believe I have to have one-nightstands for the sake of being Dauntless.”

Eric hummed; in silent agreement, probably. For a brief moment, he was still. You took the time to take a few eager sips from your beer. At least that compensated you a little for relinquishing Halloween night as a blanket burrito.

“Your face looks better than before.” He said then.

“Yeah… thanks. I told my niece begged me to do my make-up for her candy hunt. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

The Dauntless leader smirked. “I take it you did not intend for her to knock on my door.”

“No.” No one ever does, you added quietly.

“Well, she seems tough. She should stay in Dauntless once she’s old enough to choose.” He paused.

“I hope so too. ‘Faction before blood’ only sounds easy.”

“Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall. I’m going for a run.” He suddenly commented out of the blue. Your eyes widened. Excuse me?

“Huh?” Frowning, you studied his face, searching for the joke you quite apparently did not understand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eric raised his eyebrows once more. “Was I being unclear?”

“Well, no but—“ There was one thing you knew about Eric for certain. You did not defy him. Ever. There was a part of you which wanted to, simply out of spite but the other… the other had dragged you all the way to this party merely because Eric had suggested to ‘see you there’. Heavens, was this really happening? Was the most fearful Dauntless leader of them all actually taking an interest in you? Should you thank your niece for being the trigger… or damn her?

“Good,” He interrupted you harshly, “Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the training hall.” When you said nothing, too flabbergasted to even respond, he simply downed his whiskey and ordered a new one. Well, Happy Halloween to you. It honestly seemed like this was going to be a promising night after all.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[hkshirayuki]

Not one of your Victim (Gojou Satoru x Reader)

Ch.1 Whine and Expression

Gojo Satoru is currently looking after of his new students.

It's just another day of class. They did nothing particular as he tell them to do self study and while he just observe. Receiving them complaining about how lazy there teacher is.

Gojo Satoru just chuckled as he doesn't care and tell them to get on it.

"I thought were really going to a nice place in Tokyo, Like the tower, Restaurant or Temple, Again we've been deceive" Nobara said.

"Oi, stop whining we got something we need to do" Itadori said.

While Fushiguro just walk ahead them. Getting a head start. Nobara just point a finger at him to tell him to say something or at least join there conversation.

Seeing how they interact with each other bring back memories.

"Itadori Yuji, He is pretty similar to me in the goofy side though" Gojo thought to himself.

While Gojo just said for his students to finish up the assignment he had assigned to them.

After a good thirty minutes they came back. Fushiguro just report what happened and that they successfully exorcise the curse spirit.

"Good job, There's a huge improvement" Gojo said with a carefree tone in his voice.

"Never take his word again" Nobara muttered under her breath.

Gojo just asked them regarding what they learn about the curse they just exorcise. They just replied to his question in a monotone way.

Fushiguro just have a frown as he know that he is lazy to teach them.

"Why not just tell us that your lazy to teach us rather than doing something like this" Fushiguro thought as he sighed at how much of a slacker Gojo is.

While Itadori just asked him directly.

"Here, Gojo-sensei" Itadori said while raising his hand to get Gojo's attention.

"What is he a preschooler?" Nobara thought. Gojo just point at Itadori.

"Yes, Yuji-kun" Gojo said with a carefree tone.

"How would this help us to get stronger?" Itadori seriously asked.

"Oh we're just cleaning up" Gojo replied and the three were merely speechless.

Fushiguro weren't surprised as he is used to it. While the other two just make a fuss and tell him that they were looking forward to there so called field trip and thought it was serious this time.

Gojo just chuckle but soon he received a smack at the back of his head. Which surprised the two students.

"Stop messing with your students, Gojo" The woman said with a serious tone and Gojo just smile.

Fushiguro just look and said "Y/n-san"

Nobara and Itadori just stare at the Stranger with a curious look to see. Someone hit there Sensei for messing with there feelings.

"That hurts, Y/n-chan, you would have at least hug me instead of smacking me at the head" Gojo said with a carefree tone.

Y/n just give him a frown in response.

While y/n just walk towards Fushiguro and he just respectfully greeted the lady.

"It's been a long time, Y/n-san, how you've been?" Fushiguro said.

While y/n just pat his head.

"It is indeed, you sure grow taller, Megu" y/n said with a gentle tone in her voice. Fushiguro just blushed as he crouch down so she could pat him more.

Nobara and Itadori just gossip about the odd behavior of Fushiguro and Gojo-sensei towards you.

After patting him. Y/n-chan heard Gojo Satoru whining about ignoring him.

Y/n approach next Kugisaki Nobara.

"I see, you got a pretty cute girl student too, Kugisaki Nobara...right?"

After hearing y/n call her pretty and cute. Nobara just thought she's a nice person.

"Yes! That's me" Nobara proudly say to y/n.

"An elegant strong and independent young lady" y/n said while Nobara just hold her hand and asked her"Can I call you, y/n-sensei?"

"Oi!" The three boys just said to Nobara.

And the last one is Itadori Yuji who nervously stand while she observe her.

"A beauty approach me" Itadori said to himself.

"Itadori Yuji-kun? Sukuna's vessel"y/n muttered under her breath.

She just stand up there thinking when Sukuna just suddenly speak.

"It's been a while since I saw a beautiful geisha" Sukuna said. Itadori feel embarrassed as he just apologise of what Sukuna said.

While Gojo were jealous and hostile at the comment that Sukuna said about you.

"Oh, am I sensing hostility?" Sukuna said towards Gojo who is glaring at the mouth at Itadori's cheek. Sukuna just chuckled as he spoke that if he could take over Itadori's body he would love to observe you more closer.

Gojo were about to grab Itadori when y/n just smack his forehead.

"Why are you glaring at the boy"

"Ouch, that hurts y/n-chan"

"Stop whining, aren't you the strongest? Act properly"

"No thank you~ I'm fine with how am I"

Itadori and Nobara just asked Fushiguro what is y/n and Gojo-sensei relationship with each other.

"Don't asked me, Even Myself, I'm confused" Fushiguro replied.

"Are they friends or enemies?" Nobara and Itadori thought while Fushiguro just nod at there confused look.

Gojo were merely clinging on y/n and she just push him away.

"Get off me" y/n irritated said.

"No I don't want to! Your so cold,

y/n-chan" Gojo replied while clinging at her body.

After trying to convince him with words. Y/n just finally snapped at him.

Gojo just chuckled at her reaction.

"As I thought y/n-chan look good with an expression in her face"

"This is an annoyed expression" Y/n said with an deadpan expression.

"Okay, okay I'll stop, so what brings you here?" Gojo said finally acting like a proper adult.

"I just happen to passby, when I saw Megu"  y/n replied and Gojo just pout.

"Only Megumi-chan!? What about me?!"

"I won't probably approach you, if I see you" y/n quick response.

"How cruel, After the years we've been together"

Y/n just wear a deadpanned expression when he talk that they been together.

"Please don't use such as a suggestive words, I don't want anyone to misunderstand it"

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

Not one of your Victim is original published on my Wattpad account. Hkshirayuki

Next ch👇

https://hkshirayuki.tumblr.com/post/646005538114715648/hkshirayuki

[niksixx]

Plus One

Hello hello hello!!! Here it is. Part 1 of my new Nikki Sixx mini fic. I love this piece, and I just hope you all will enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. This fic has more of a modern feel (so basically, present day setting with an 80s Nikki Sixx 😃).

Requested: Graciously by my incredible followers and mutuals :) 

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x OC Pia Worthington

Description: Fake dating your best friend when you’re secretly in love with him? Pia Worthington knows exactly how that feels. 

A/N: Leave comments and reblog💜 Thank you always💜

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Pia’s POV*

As I clutched the red embroidered invitation in my left hand, the black decorated RSVP in my right hand, and stared down at the gold embellished invite on my kitchen counter, I realized that my worst nightmare had come true.

High school reunion.

Work party.

Wedding.

And a plus one line on all three cards.

At twenty-seven, I’d like to think that I am a successful woman with her priorities straightened out. I opened my own small business at seventeen, landed a job as a makeup artist in a beauty salon at twenty two, and became a homeowner at twenty five. On Thursdays, I run a book club, and volunteer at my local SPCA on Monday and Wednesday mornings. From an outsider’s perspective, one could say I have it all.

But like everyone else, I’m still not satisfied with my life. There’s something missing, something I won’t be complete without.

Love.

How cliche, right?

I know what you’re thinking. Pia, you’re a young, successful, independent woman. You don’t need a man. You shouldn’t want a man.

But of course, the only man I’ve ever wanted never wanted me back. Funny how that works.

Again, I’m only twenty-seven. Time is still on my side. But I’d be lying to you if I said I didn’t think about giving up sometimes. I see my friends falling in love, getting married, having babies, and I want that for myself.

Well...most of that. I can do without the kids part. What I want, what I truly want, is a wholehearted love. And one man always comes to mind no matter how hard I try to push him away.

Aside from being my neighbor, Nikki has been my very best friend and the love of my life for so many years. Our friendship blossomed ten years ago when his friend group mingled with mine back in our third year of high school. We were a crazy bunch with various personalities, but it just worked. We all clicked.

Out of the eight of us, Nikki and I were thick as thieves even though our personalities couldn’t be anymore polar. While I was best friends with Amanda, Charlotte, and Vivian since the fifth grade, my relationship with Nikki was just so different. There were things I could talk to him about, and instead of Charlotte’s judgment, I was greeted with Nikki’s comfort. We were an adventurous duo, never doing the same activity twice, which was a huge difference from letting Vivian decide what our group would be doing each weekend.

Aside from being my best friend, Nikki was the biggest supporter in my life. He was the only one that stood by my side, defending my integrity, when my friends were skeptical about my lipstick business. Of course, when I became more established, the girls had dropped dollars on every shade and made sure all the girls in our class knew about my business. But Nikki? He let me test the lipstick. On him.

Senior year was the year when some of our group decided to take things to the next level. Vince and Amanda experimented as a couple, and it unsurprisingly only lasted a good four months before Vince had moved on. At eighteen, he’d already had a reputation for sleeping around, and Amanda, the poor soul, was just clueless to his cheating.  

I think the biggest shock was when Nikki and Charlotte had started dating halfway through senior year. From the sidelines, I watched as they became the it couple. I was happy for them, (while simultaneously trying to bury my jealousy), but I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of them together. I never would have thought that Nikki’s carefree spirit would mesh well with Charlotte’s stuck up attitude, but for the year they were together, I was proven wrong. Luckily, my relationship with Nikki wasn’t affected. We were still each other’s best friend.

And then college happened.

Well, for some of us.

Vivian and Charlotte attended the most prestigious universities money could buy, and Amanda and I had been accepted into cosmetology school. Luckily, my small business was booming, and I was able to pay for my classes without any help from my family. While the girls and I were off getting our degrees and licenses, the boys were forming a band. An interesting one at that.

By junior year of college, Nikki and Vivian had become official shortly after Viv’s 21st birthday. Again, I watched from the sidelines as the man that I loved gave his love to another woman for three years. This time, I could feel a shift in my friendship with Nikki. We talked a bit less than what was normal for us. Over the years, I barely saw him. His band, officially named Mötley Crüe, had taken up the time he wasn’t spending with Vivian. I had become a mere afterthought, and my heart broke each time I wasn’t able to see him or talk to him. And, to make things even more strange, Tommy and Charlotte had drunkenly eloped in Vegas after one of the boys’ concerts and decided to stay married. At 24, it seemed like everyone was finding their soulmate. Nikki had Viv, Tommy had Charlotte, Mick and Amanda were giving it a try, and Vince and I both weren’t so lucky in the love department.

Fast forward a year later and life for all of us had changed drastically. Nikki and Viv had broken up and it was messy, to say the least. Nikki wasn’t too affected by the breakup, but Viv’s rage had turned her into a woman none of us knew. I had finally worked up the courage to tell Nikki how I felt (and believe me, I wanted to tell him) but, alas, shortly after Mick and Amanda had called it quits, Amanda and Nikki had fallen head over heels for each other. Vince and I were still painfully single (although Vinnie didn’t seem to mind the freedom) and were given the title of ‘godparents’ to Tommy and Charlotte’s son. The boys’ band had become one of the biggest bands in America. And to distract myself from the pain of watching Nikki fall in love yet again with someone who wasn’t me, I bought a house to wallow in.

Which, finally, brings me back to today.

I’m Pia Worthington.

27.

Homeowner.

Business owner.

Makeup artist.

And devastatingly single.

So, what happened to everyone else?

Well, Tommy and Charlotte remain happily married with two little boys. Who knew one drunken night in Vegas could lead to a happily ever after?

Mick and Vivian had married last year and were expecting twin girls. Yes, this shocked everyone, but they were a match made in Heaven. Who knew? Somehow, Mick had broken down the walls around Viv’s heart, and she loved him fiercely.

Vince and Amanda had decided to try again. I was proud of Vince. He’d done a complete 180, always treating Amanda with the respect she deserved.

And Nikki and I? We’re still best friends and closer than ever. We’re happy, all eight of us, after years of drama, devastation, and heartbreak.

With a sigh, I grabbed all three invitations in my hand and plopped down on my sofa. Okay, so I lied, I’m not completely happy. The plus one line on each invitation was just a painful reminder of how lonely I was.

And then my mind wandered to Nikki. Asking him to be my plus one would be practical, but I’m not sure my heart could handle knowing it wasn’t real.

But as I glanced down at the invitations once more, I realized that I couldn’t keep living like this. For years, I’d been pining over a man who dated all of my friends and neglected to give me a chance. I shouldn’t still want him as much as I do. He’s made it clear that I’m not and will never be more than a friend. And it’s about time I move on from the fairytale ending in my head.

So with a firm grip on the cards and a stern look on my face, I flung open my door and marched right over to Nikki’s house.

And he answered on the third knock, looking even more handsome than the last time I’d seen him.

Yeah...getting over the fairytale in my head? Not happening.

[thekrazykeke]

Title: Best I Ever Had

Fandom(s): Black Panther, MCU

Relationship(s): T’Challa x reader. T’Challa & Okoye. Reader x OC. Ayo & reader.

Request: Any time I read a story about Reader fucking up or not doing right by Tchalla she’s either evil or he just leaves her crying in the dust. I want a fic where she fucks up but apologizes, confesses how much she really loves him and is just scared, and HE. FORGIVES. AND LOVES. HER. And she shows him how much she loves him...wink wink. Basically what we do for Erik in these docs where he fuck up but we forgive him! Except Reader and his level of fucked up! Thank you!

Requester: Anonymous

Summary: I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m afraid of surrendering control too quickly, of putting my heart in hands that do not know how to hold it.

Warning(s): Angst, bad decisions, fluff

(Suffer with me) @adiafegan @wikiwakanda @melaninmarvel

Honestly, T’Challa is a cinnamon roll and if anyone’s unhappy in a relationship, just end it. I give that advice every time, you do more damage staying with somebody who you honestly don’t even like because you scared to be alone/lonely. That’s fucked up, so just let that person go, let them be with someone who can appreciate them. Anywho! I know it’s probably implied in the request about ‘Erik’s level of fucked up’ meaning she is supposed to be having an affair/cheating but I couldn’t go through with the whole thing because I’ma sucka. 

#CheatersNeverProsper

~

You had been born in a country that didn’t want you and fighting against a system designed to keep you at the bottom, scrambling for scraps. Being black in America meant that from jump street, you’re at a disadvantage. Even more so, you’re a black woman, and that comes with it’s own set of stereotypes and little boxes to be checked off so other minorities and Caucasians can feel justified in their treatment of you. 

Be too loud, then you hood. Talk too soft, then you shy, overlooked. Dress conservatively, you a square. Show some skin and you a ho. So what do you do with these mixed messages thrown in your face all the time? 

Not give a fuck!

Or at the very least, master the art of pretending to not give a fuck. 

Mama taught you to be independent and how to take care of yourself, pay your bills on time and be a lady. Daddy had a gambling addiction and while he could be sweet as gold, the pipe dream of hitting big and being a millionaire is too tempting for him to kick; you learned that some people are just lost causes.

The core lessons stuck. 

Throughout your life, you bumped your head, stumbled and got lost trying to find who you are as a person. You lost friends along the way, chasing your dreams. Romanticist to the core but you’d been played too many times to the point where you knew all the tricks; you ended up being the one calling the shots in relationships. 

No one had the power to hurt you anymore because you wouldn’t let them. 

One night them and move on, that’s the number one rule. 

Until T’Challa Udaku. 

He swept in your life and thrown everything out of wack. You was used to the hood niggas, fools who wanted you to spread your legs and close your mouth or the hoteps who were fake ‘woke’ and wanted you to be ‘all natural’ and worship them for breathing. Workplace hook ups were entirely too messy. Businessmen, lawyers, doctors, etc. were serious about their craft but they tended to prioritize work over relationships in your limited scope of experience. 

This man, though? 

He was...He is good. 

He treated you with respect, listened to and valued your opinion. Had no issue with spending money on you and wouldn’t complain about the price for anything, opened doors for you and treated you as if you were important, beautiful. T’Challa is one of those rare, one of a kind people and for some reason he wanted you. Can you imagine that? You, one of the many translators that the U.N. had employed but out of everyone there during the press conference where he made history by announcing on live television that Wakanda would be more involved in the world, and share it’s resources, after decades of isolationism, it’s you who caught the attention of a king?

Talk about surreal. 

Admittedly, you thought that T’Challa was just after some easy pussy. You wasn’t no ugly bitch, you’re confident enough to say that much, but you didn’t have time for other people’s foolishness, not even, maybe even especially, a king. Thus, you ignored the chemistry between y’all and tried to keep from lusting over his sexy, polite ass. 

It’s an exercise in failure. 

The first time you ended up in his bed, or to be specific, in a ritzy upscale hotel and he’s all up in ya guts, hitting your G-spot and making you see stars, the morning after, you blamed it on being drunk even though all you did was nurse a beer all night. You tried to sneak up outta there without causing a scene but the Dora Milaje caught you; Okoye didn’t think much of you but your presence seemed to amuse Ayo, her amusement growing when T’Challa joined y’all in the hallway and dismissed them. He wanted to see you again and you made up an excuse for why you couldn’t, or so you tried. It’s a little hard to stick to your guns when he’s french kissing you so sensually and skillfully, reminiscent of when his tongue had played wit yo punani...

Long story short, he’d gotten his way, much to your (delayed) irritation.

Again and again, y’all linked up and the dicking down that you got is always good. Your prerogative is to keep your distance and although you had tried, there’s just something about T’Challa that drew you in, made the walls around your heart trembled and shivered with the need, the want to come down and let him in, especially when he’s open with you. Somehow this had been going on for a month before he asked you if you would date him and despite your misgivings, despite the instinctive response to deflect and retreat, you told him yes. Yes, you told him even though you wouldn’t allow him to come to your house. Or meet any family members. Yes, you told him and while you liked him, truthfully, you’re sprung and in love, you still tried to remain a sense of separation, of independence because that’s all you knew and the rings of self-preservation crawled up your spine every day that you spent at his side and he proved to be a genuinely good man. 

Good men didn’t love like damaged women such as you.

The two of y’all had been together for just under four months now and it’s clear that he wants more. Hell, he deserves more, deserves better. And part of you wants to give in and trust that T’Challa will catch you, each time your mouth opens to throw caution to the wind, you become frozen and chicken out. Maybe it’s that type of vulnerability which Sebastian DeMarco, your ex, sensed and capitalized on, suggesting that y’all get drinks and catch up while he’s in town. Any other day, you’d have refused, cited work, going to church on Sunday, or any other random thing you could think up. 

No, not this time, this time, you said yes. And you didn’t tell T’Challa about it. You said that you were working late and that you’d see him tomorrow. He’d texted back an affirmative, the response a little more clipped than usual since y’all had gotten into an argument earlier. 

For the first time in awhile, you didn’t think about anything or anyone’s feelings, let alone your own. You got turnt the fuck up, bih! It was so much fun, so easy to get a rush of this type of energy. Sebastian had always been fun type, wild and carefree, why hadn’t you hung out with him again before now?

Turning to ask him, you blink when his lips are on yours. 

Just as you go to shove at his chest and demand what the fuck--

“Y/N.” 

Oh. No. 

Heart beginning to pound with anxiety, drunkenness starting to wear off, you turn to see that it’s T’Challa and another male, some resemblance to him, possibly his cousin that he sometimes talked about? 

“Ba--” You try to take a step toward him while the other guy immediately went after Sebastian (”Wassup, nigga!?” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, bro, I’m just tryna smash!”). 

“You told me that you were working late.” T’Challa stated, voice frighteningly blank. “You lied to me.”

“I just needed a night to myself.” The minute to those words leave your mouth, you know it’s a mistake. Hurt flashes across his face before his features become frighteningly blank. 

“Do not worry. You can have the rest of your nights to yourself, from here on out, Y/N Y/L/N.” He says in the coldest tone you’ve ever heard from him. “N’Jadaka!” Calling out sharply to the other, at the corner of your eye, you see that Sebastian’s face is a mess of bruises and bloody. “Let us go. We are done here.” 

“Nigga, is you forreal?! He kisses yo girl and you letting his punk ass walk away breathing?”

“T’Challa, please.” You try to plea, but he ignores you.

“Now, cousin.” As T’Challa turns to go, you reach out for his hand and he dodges your touch. “Do not---!” Biting back words, he shook his head, disappointed and disgusted.  

You stand there, trembling with suppressed emotions, watching as he got further and further away from you, his cousin chewing him out,  tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. Leaving Sebastian groaning on the ground, you find a cafe and have the owner call you a cab. Once you arrive at home, you stand in your empty, lonely apartment. Hand going to your head, you walk past a mirror hanging on the wall, pausing as you catch sight of yourself. 

You look shell-shocked, dumbfounded. Like a woman who had the world in her hands but lost it because she was an idiot. A surge of anger flows through you and you yank the mirror off the wall, flinging it. 

Shards of glass decorating the wooden floor. 

Pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, you laugh and laugh and laugh. Until you cry. For the longest, you just stand there, shoulders shaking and breath seizing your throat as you tried to be silent in your misery. 

And things do not look brighter in the morning. In fact, things look absolutely shitty. Your head hurts because you’re hungover, you can’t talk because your voice is scratchy and you just look like a straight up mess because you fell asleep on the couch, without a bonnet or scarf or nothing. 

Wolf Woman is a thing now. 

If you had the power of time travel, you’d rewind back to two days ago, when you’re in another fancy hotel room, T’Challa tracing the words, ‘I love you’ into your skin while you were ‘asleep’. You cry in the shower because of that. You cry while making breakfast. 

You cry before you leave out for work.

Sebastian calls you while on break and you let it go straight to voicemail. Then delete his number and contact info that he’d snuck into your phone yesterday. God, was it really just yesterday when your whole world came crashing down? Fingers hovering over the buttons, you stare at the screen for a new text message, leg bouncing up and down with anxiety. What do you say, what could you say? Exhaling roughly, you send him the address to your apartment and turn off your cellphone, because you’re a coward. 

Even now you’re trying to protect yourself from more pain and rejection. 

If he doesn’t show up, he doesn’t show up. You’ll accept it. Leave his life and let him move on with someone else. That’s what a good person would do, right? Right, and you’re trying to be better. Throughout the day, you try to focus, but it’s pointless as your mind keeps going back to him and you know your boss is irritated by your behavior but you’re not called out on it, thankfully.

When you get home, it’s not T’Challa waiting for you, but Okoye and Ayo. 

You’re barely able to get a foot out of the car before the General of the Dora Milaje is on you and not in a sexy way, but in a threatening, I will end you type of manner. Her elbow is braced against your throat, applying pressure and she smacks the shit out of you more than once. Literally, you don’t think you have any taste left in your mouth or feeling in your face before Ayo pulls her off.

“Have you no shame?!” The fierce, bald woman demanded, her eyes wild, angry.

“General...General, stop.” 

“You think that because he is soft for you that you can treat our king in any manner--” Ayo blocks her before she can lunge at you again. “I should kill you!”

“I just want to see him.” You say, calm and even toned, heart racing with adrenaline. 

“And you think you have the right?!” Okoye presses a hand on Ayo’s shoulder, about to push her aside but Ayo isn’t budging. “I knew you were not right for him...I told him, I knew it!”

Before you can come up with something witty or smart-alecky to get another smack across the face, “That is not up to you.” 

Okoye ceases trying to murder you for the moment, “Kumkani...”

Ayo hesitantly let her go. 

“We will discuss this breach of trust and insubordination later.” T’Challa says calmly, as if he hadn’t just probably witnessed that embarrassing one sided fight. “Dismissed.” 

“Kumkani...” Disbelief coats Okoye’s voice and features. Ayo, however, merely crossed her arms in the Wakandan salute, marching away. “T’Challa, are you really going to just forgive...” Looking at you with disgust, she closes her mouth, curtly nodded before she also saluted and marched away.

Silence lingers between the two of you for several seconds. 

“Do you want to...come in? Talk, maybe.”

“I do not think that is the best idea.” T’Challa stated, clipped and short. “I should be going as well. I only followed them because I wanted to know what all the secrecy was about and now I have my answer. It does not interest me.”

“Please, T’Challa...” Hand on his wrist, you’re surprised that he allows this. But also, you’re elated because only a day without him and you think that you’re going crazy. You had spent so long with his arms around you, in constant contact, that now that you’re on you’re own, you’re constantly cold, bereft. “Please, just five minutes. Please.”

T’Challa half turned to face you, looking down at you with a blank expression, “I told you that I was done with you.” 

“You’re going to throw away me away for one kiss that I didn’t even initiate?” Again, you’re putting your foot in your mouth. “He kissed me. He kissed me, I didn’t want it.”

He scoffed. “Yet you let him kiss you all the same.”

“I was going to push him away. You came across us before I even got the chance--” His hand is on yours now, he’s trying to get you to let go. “I’m telling the truth, T’Challa, please. If you would just listen to me...”

“You had months to talk to me!” T’Challa shouted. Then when he realized you were staring at him with huge eyes, his normal soft tone returned, “You had months and you chose to just lead me on. Making a fool of me, Okoye was r--”

And you couldn’t stand this anymore. “I was scared, okay?!” Apparently today is the day for dramatic outbursts. “I was t-terrified....of the way...that you make me feel and I...” Vision going blurry with tears, they fell down your cheeks unchecked. “When I get scared, I try and push the problem away but I didn’t want to push you away. And I’m sorry I’m difficult and mean and I don’t always know how to talk about... about anything, but I love you. It’s scary because you see through me sometimes and I can’t...I can’t...” Hiccuping, you let go of his wrists to cover your face, trying to maintain some dignity. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m sorry.” 

This is it, the end of the road, sis.

You had made your pitch and now that he’d seen you for the pathetic, waste of space that you are, just like you promised, you’d let him g--

T’Challa gently gripped each of your wrists, moving your hands out of the way. Embarrassment welled through you and in reaction, even more tears fell down your face. You want to stop crying but it’s so difficult and this isn’t cute or right, tears are not to be used like weapons against people that you loved, after all. “...Do you realize that this is most you have confided in me since we met?”

Guilt stabbed through you. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stop saying that.” He lets your wrists go and you let them drop to your sides. “...I was hurt by you kissing that man, yes. Or he kissed you, there is no real difference. But more than that, I was hurt that you lied to me about your whereabouts. I thought I needed time and space away from you, and while I am irritated by Okoye’s actions and interference in my personal matters, her concerns are well placed.”

Swiping at your eyes, you try to get ahold of yourself, “I know.” You bite your bottom lip to avoid apologizing again.

He lifts your chin, making you look at him. “Do you know? Do you understand how cruel you have been to me?” T’Challa doesn’t let you get a word in edgewise and keeps speaking, “We would probably both be better off and better people if we stop seeing each other.” You try and look away but again, he makes you keep eye contact. 

“But like the fool that I am, weak as you make me, I still love you.”

Then much to your astonishment, T’Challa is crying too. 

You probably look like two idiots, crying outside like that and making gossip for your neighbors, but you don’t care. For once, the facade of being a strong, take no shit type of woman is the last thing on your mind as you blubbered, apologizing over and over again. Eventually though, the two of y’all did migrate to your apartment. The reality that you could have lost him, and very much still could if you didn’t handle your shit like an actual functioning adult and communicate more, hit you full force in the face. 

“‘Challa.” Fingers massaging the pulse point of his left hand, you waited until he hummed, showing that he’s listening, “I love you.” Glancing up, you see that the umber skinned male is watching you. Maintaining eye contact, you guide his hand downdowndown, the fabric of your booty shorts the only obstacle, “I love you and I don’t want anyone else to t-t-to...touch me...” Voice stuttering towards the end as his fingers have disappeared underneath the shorts and his long middle finger dips into your puss til the knuckle, sinking in and out, in and out. Hips rising of their accord, wanting more of that touch, still, you tried to stay on script. With shaking, unsteady fingers, you got the zipper of his pants down. When he added another finger, brushing up against your G-spot teasingly, you went a bit cross eyed before you clenched your eyes shut.

T’Challa smacked you on the ass, hard, causing you to flinch and moan. “Do not stop. This is about me right now, not you, and if you cum on my fingers before I am inside you...”

Oh God, the thought of cumming on this man’s fingers. Pulling down his boxers, his dick came free, saluting you practically; your lips find the mushroom head, kissing the tip before swirling your tongue around, collecting pre. You heard him let out a quiet hiss, abdominal muscles tensing and flexing before he relaxed, and rewarded you by adding one more finger. Deciding to be a bit of a tease too, you massaged his balls gently, kissing along either side of his cock for a few seconds and just before he could warn you again, you took him in your mouth. His hand is on the nape of your neck and his hips rose, making you take more and more, relaxing your jaw, you let him use you, fuck your throat. 

By now, you’re practically soaking his hand and maybe even the couch. 

You could probably cum from this. 

As if sensing wayward train of thought, T’Challa removed his fingers and you let his dick fall out of his mouth without being told. 

“Come here.” There’s no way that you’d disobey. Half rising up, you straddle his waist, legs thrown over either side of him and you sloowly sink down on his cock. T’Challa’s hands are on your hips, fingers slightly bruising when you’re finally seated and he’s buried to the hilt. You have to pause for a second there because he’s not some small guy. It’s only when you’re squeezing his shoulder and wiggling in his lap does he start thrusting. The rhythm is slow and drawn out, he doesn’t rush to get off and he’s not going to let you off that easy either, you belatedly realize when you shuck off your shirt and his head dips to take a nipple in his mouth. 

T’Challa knows your body so well and he has the restraint to edge you over and over again, asking in a calm, almost unruffled tone, who you belong to, who is fucking you so good, and each time, you answer him, all but screaming himhimhim, you belonged to him. And just when you thought that you couldn’t take it anymore, he changed up the game again, delivering short, hard strokes to your G-spot, fucking you so good, so right and when you came all over his dick, screaming his name and probably disturbing your neighbors, but who cared cuz the dick was too bomb-- His spine stiffened and his hips stuttered as you clamped down around him, trying to suck him for every last drop of cum as he came inside you. Leaning heavily against T’Challa’s chest, you can feel his own heart thundered beneath your ear, “I love you.”

You heard him snort. 

Then his hand circled the nape of your neck, thumb caressing the skin. 

“I love you too.”

Not everything is magically fixed between the two of you, even with the best dick session to help things along, and the both of y’all knew that. But this was a start, y’all were going to work it out, then maybe, hopefully, be better in the future.

[ecotone99]

[HR] [MS] Last Year in Gevaudan

My return to Gevaudan was in the middle of the month of April. I found the town of my birth near unchanged since I had left it for university almost a decade ago. And while parents hand long since moved away from my familiar childhood home, the roads that I knew to be paved were still paved and in the same semi-shoddy state as before and the gravel roads upon the outskirts of town remained as they were too, and from my window on the third and final floor of a small apartment building I could have sworn that the skyline hadn't changed at all. Over the course of May and early June, before the first incident, I found myself returning to my old ways of life, dropping my suburbia learned way of living. I reconnected with old friends from my childhood, and while I wouldn't consider us to be friends yet again, I still enjoyed the act of catching up.

It was late June when the corpse of Mr. Valet, a fellow tenant within my apartment complex, was discovered on a rarely used stretch of bad road on the outskirts of town named Jeanne street. He was mangled, torn apart in fashion most visceral and scattered in pieces across 20ft within a ditch along the side of the road. An animal attack was suspected from the ripping and the tearing of the flesh. While the nature of the death was more than disturbing what would truly proturb me was my scarce interactions with his recent window.

Mrs. Valet seemed to be smaller than she was the previous day. Squatter and yet thinner, as if the weight of losing her partner pressing down on her had physically lessened her mass. It was a haunting visage, and while I didn't know Mr. or Mrs. Valet, having never truly spoken to them besides the occasion pleasantries and formalies one is expected to exchange within a hallway, the aura of death and mourning would hang over the complex. For the coming days my mind would turn towards thoughts of my own mortality, although this memento mori didn't seem exclusive to I alone, as the depressive air seemed to briefly encompass the town, spreading like a disease from the several separate focal points of those directly affected by Mr. Valet’s untimely passing.

This feeling was only worsened by the small media circus surrounding the entirely unusual event. Due to the incredible gruesomeness and sheer unlikeliness of a death like that occurring so close to a residential area the story managed to make its way onto the front pages of many of the major state-based newses. But as the news tends to do, they moved on once any exploitability had vanished from a tragedy, and so Gevaudan fell back out of the limelight and escaped its downwards aiming aura and returned to the small, unnoticed town I believe all the denizens preferred it to be.

The next few weeks seemed tranquil. As June turned to July spring would flourish into summer and I finally remembered the carefree days of my youth, it almost seemed as if the last decade of my life had never happened, and I had never left the small town of Gevaudan. I enjoyed walking up and down main street, exploring the small mom-n-pop shops that, along with the nearby farms, made up Gevudans local economy and enjoying the warmth and scent of the summer-time air. I stopped taking weekly trips to an out of town chain supermarket in favor of walking to the shop of the small local grocers whenever one of my provisions ran low, and while their options were limited I enjoyed the simplicity of it, and I did find the amount of locally sourced independent goods a pleasant thing to have within my cabinets even if they were more expensive than anyone could truly justify.

The local societies seemed to use summer as the time when all local events and functions were celebrated. And while I had no interest in the children's parades, flower festivals and celebrations of summer I did find myself intrigued by the outdoor movie nights the local all-ages Gevaudan rec. Center planned to be holding. The flyers and schedules were stapled to telephone poles across town. The planned list of films were ideal for the demographic and the season, not too scary for children and nostalgic for adults. Jurassic Park, E.T. and Star Wars were slated to be shown every other Saturday night, starting at 7pm and ending alongside the film, and for location a great sheet had been propped up in the park in order to project the pictures upon.

The first movie night was late mid june, sometime between the 20th and the 25th. E.T. would be playing, and besides the fact that I had no one to accompany me to the viewing, I still planned to watch the film with the rest of the town. I arrived around 6:30 and spread out a thick sheet on the ground towards the mid-left of the clearing that was to be the showings auditorium. I suppose the exact specifics of the film don't truly matter, but I can assume that it was enjoyed by all and I found the communal experience to make the viewing of the film far more enjoyable than watching it alone and I left the screening content and happy.

A second body was discovered the next morning. Only 50ft from where just the night before I and several others had let themselves and their children relax and be totally unguarded the mangled corpse of an unknown man was discovered by a person, one who chose to remain anonymous. The body was in a gruesome state upon its discovery, pieces partially rendered from the torso and a large amount of flesh from its stomach and torso, along with its right arm, was missing. In retrospect I assume it had been consumed by that entity. The cause of death was declared soon after, animal attack. Knowing just how close I was to the scene of that action only a few hours before it occurred made me sick. I felt nauseous, even worse than I felt the month before when Mrs. Valets sorrow had infected the surrounding reaches. I got sick those days, I threw up repeatedly. Again and again, it was dreadful.

The local Huntsman Club was the first one to take action against this new threat. For the first time in decades a bounty was posted, 500$ to the one who bags the creature. Several others would back the bounty, raising it to a bit upwards 1000$. The fact that within a single month two incredibly violent animal attacks had taken place, and all within the boundaries of this town I had slowly begun to recognize as home once again, was not something that both I and many others couldn't tolerate. I backed the bounty, I donated what money I could spare towards it, as I saw it and as I still see it, it was what the least that I could have done.

The media circus returned once more, and it stayed for longer this time. I began to realize just what the presence of this aspect of the media does to the areas of its surroundings. It acts like an anchor to the atmosphere. It keeps the air of paranoia and fear and so many other unnamable emotions in the location long after it would have naturally faded. So the paranoia would stay, the next death was not a question of if, but a when. The children who had played outside late into the night since the school year had ended were rushed back inside as soon as darkness fell by fearful parents and businesses were closing earlier than they had before, no one went out to dinner anymore and the movie nights had been canceled. An unofficial curfew had been self imposed upon Gevaudan.

It was sometime during this season of paranoia when I would hear the suggestion of who or what was behind these awful attacks. I can't recall who I heard it from, perhaps some minimum wage cashier worker or some unknown character on the street had told it to me. Nevertheless this unknown figure proposed the idea of were-wolf. It was preposterous, and so I laughed. But it would be a lie to say the thought hadn't found its place at the back of my mind.

The news trucks of the nearby counties left two weeks into the brief time of fear that they had helped preserve, and with them the palpable anxiety of the past fortnight began to peel away like a dreadful dead scab. It felt like summer again, the air was light and breezy and people stayed out later, people went to resturants again. This would be the last time Gevaudan would feel like Gevaudan, like the town I was beginning to love once more.

I came to dread the full moon, as I had said before it was preposterous, and still I dreaded it, I don't know why. Tommy Boulet was seven when he went missing in late July. The beasts bounty was raised by hundreds of dollars, the local government stepped in and an official curfew of 8pm was enacted. The news trucks returned, they were larger now, more important trucks from more major news corporations. And for the first time someone made a connection between the deaths. They were all the nights of the full moon. For the first time the suggestion was out there in public, the idea of the were-wolf. And for the first time in my life, while gazing upon the bounty stapled to the telephone pole across the street from my building, I considered buying a gun.

The rest of July and well into August was horrible, with news trucks having returned and seemingly in larger numbers than before the dreadful atmosphere that they search and yet exude was here to stay. The death of two full grown men is a tragedy in its own right, but the loss of a child is worse, so unimaginably worse than the death of an adult. It feels wrong to compare the worth of lives by the years lived but I find the human soul values potential over all else. Unlike with the death of Mr. Valet the feeling of sorrow felt by all denizens of the town was genuine. Just the fact that something so pure and innocent was gone from our town deeply rattled our very being. Even if we had never cared for or noticed them before. That dreadful scab which had only just been peeled away had reformed.

Nothing could ever compare to the emotional impact that the death of a child has, and so I wasn't surprised when the next death failed to strike the same nerve as the previous passings, and I found my reaction to it to be almost routine by now. It seems that the scab that the media had heldfast upon this town not only encapsulated the strange emotions that follow a death, but seemed to seal the emotions that would follow another death, dulling and diluting its effects. A farmer discovered the body this time, god that's horrible to say, ‘This Time’. It was a woman, not that it matters when for the first time I was shocked to see it as just a body, not a lost life to be mourned. Once more it was partially consumed, just as the victim from June, and if more so this time. I didn't learn this victim's name, in a sense it didn't matter, how many can be killed on a routine basis before a death changes from a dreaded possibility to a routine reality?

The death didn't seem to effect the town nearly as much as the last three, it was almost reassuring, knowing I was part of an unaffected group, not just one jaded individual. Instead of the dread and tragedy of death something else would seize the town this time around, it was a sort of perverse fascination with the creature that had perpetrated these actions. The connection between that date of death and the lunar cycle were undeniable now, and for the first time the word were-wolf was openly discussed. The news trucks never left, but more came, and more important ones too. The story was given different names, some honest and some sensationalized, and the entity itself was given multiple names too, “the Beast of Gevaudan”, “the Beast of Jeanne Road'' and “the Werewolf of Gevaudan” were all suggested and passed around.

September came before I knew it, school reopened and the town fell into a strange sense of normality, with the ever present news trucks anxiously awaiting the next moon the town became known to the outside world. Gevaudan became the wolf-town, a new media fascination, the town stalked once a month from a creature of classic filmic fiction. Were-wolf became the popular term for it, and that only incited more media coverage. It didn't matter what it really was, if it was a wild animal, or a serial killer, or some poor sap crippled by a rare mental illness that the pop psychologists and amature criminal profilers claimed to be lycanthropy, and some believed that it was truly a were-wolf, although I suspect that they were only young children and the elder folks who hailed from the european nations across the pond where superstitions like that in a time and place like that were still acceptable. It didn't matter what you believed it to be, the name used in public was always the same, the were-wolf.

Two went missing in september, two teenagers who broke the curfew in order to escape into the woods together. Only one would be found, partially consumed and in a gruesome state like all the rest found before it. That's not what truly mattered that month, the most important discovery was the first eyewitness account of the creature. A young woman named Jenna Chastel had seen the entity and besides this one encounter, she was an entirely unremarkable individual. I don't know if her story was true, or exaggerated or entirely fictionalized. Frankly it didn't matter really, Chastel received her 15-minutes of fame, the media that had become a permanent fixture upon this town had something extra to report on and the idea of the were-wolf became even further cemented within our town.

At this point the phenomena of the were-wolf had undeniably changed from its original state as a deep striking feeling of fear and had become something like a festival, the same sense of pride one finds in towns like Flatwoods and Point Pleasant, although those encounters were far distant by the time the signs and statues had been erected, in comparison our attitude was premature. Somehow in only a few short months it had become like the deaths didn't even matter anymore. The local theater played classics like the Wolfman and the Howling and an American Were-wolf in London, the Hunt for the creature changed from a serious matter of old fashioned home-stead defense, and instead into an almost jovial competition and the bounty itself was raised far beyond what it was when the creature was considered to be just a wild, violent animal, and rebranded to officially read “the Were-wolf”, and on the telephone pole across from my complex I found a flyer stapled to it. It read “Now selling Silver Bullets”, I did not concern myself with the rest of the ad.

At this point the streets had become congested by the news trucks. The main street I personally had fallen in love with once more over the past few months with its characteristic locations and small stores entirely free of a franchise, had become almost unrecognizable. I no longer left my apartment in order to take my near daily walks in fear of the reporters swooping down upon me, like a hawk upon prey or perhaps with the length of time the story had gone on, a vulture upon a carcass, and asking for my personal take on the recent deaths that plague Gevaudan. While I had no care to share my opinions, nor my disgust with these scavengers of the press known as sensationalist journalists many of my fellow townsfolk didn't share in my beliefs of quiet respect. How quickly the people around me were able to transform the situation into one of personal gain was almost impressive. The streets were as full as during the summer months, perhaps more so, just full of people, seeming to mull around aimlessly in hopes that they would be the ones selected by the journalists and be awarded their brief moments of on-air recognition.

Trick or Treating was cancelled by the town government, a depressing but still needed action, while the deaths and their relation to the full moon were undeniable to the town government, along with most of the citizens who fell under their jurisdiction, chose to favor the idea of it being the work of a serial killer or a mad man. This is one of the few situations where one would chose the reality of a murder stalking their streets to some kind of fantasy. But this didn't stop the halloween festivities, if anything they were boosted and the holiday celebrations were more intense than any of ones I can recall from my local childhood. It didn't matter what it really was, the entity was named the were-wolf and the presence of such a creature no matter its true nature was an undeniable additive to the halloween spirit. Even if we didn't intend it we celebrated it, and the day before Halloween when the lunar cycle was at its maxis and the now monthly hunt for the creature was about to commence and an aura of comradery and good times ahead filled the air. And although I stayed in that night I heard from a second hand source the day after that Gevaudan Firearms, the small gun shop that occupied one of the cheaper plots of land at the far end of main street that had been responsible for the Silver Bullets ad I had seen a few weeks before, had run out of their new signature item.

The half eaten body of a huntsman was found only a few hundred feet into the woods a few morning, Halloween morning. They were only seemingly just beginning their hunt when they were attacked, I found it to be no surprise that the jovial attitude the hunt had portrayed would ultimately betray the hunters, at this time they seemed to be the only ones out at night were the hunters, so the death of one of their own was, by this point, an eventuality.

I believe the strange celebratory mania that swept the town was at its peak from late October to mid November, or perhaps this is when it would begin its eventual decline. The films in the local theater were becoming something less and less people were interested in seeing, and besides the brief surge of popularity that the horror hunger of Halloween would bring they simply weren't economically worth it anymore. The gothic horror section that had been able to make its way to the recommended reading was able to remain for a few more weeks before falling back from the front windows of the bookstores and libraries and into the depths of obscurity where only horror fans and strange romantics would look. Although i have no doubt that if trick or treat was permitted that year that the were-wolf would be the most popular costume.

November was the worst month by far, a child went missing again this month. But their body was discovered this time and in a similar fashion to the other's. Were-wolf mania died with the death of this child, for the town at least. While we grieved the media made no attempt to mourn and I found myself disgusted by their never-ending reporting, and I found myself disgusted by the town itself, by how we ignored the murders in favor of celebrating our new found celebrity even if it was at the cost of our neighbors lives, and moreover I was disgusted with myself for standing by and doing nothing for so long. This was a time when I needed to take action. That was the day I bought my gun, my silver bullets, and signed up to make my participation in the hunt official.

For the entire month of december anxiety welled up in my stomach like magma beneath a thin crust of cooled igneous rock. I threw up multiple times in the week before the hunt, and on Christmas when I had no one to celebrate with I considered not going on the hunt at all. But still, when the day of the full moon came I fought back my nerves and clad the warmest clothes I owned, took my gun and went out into the cold black lit only by the glistening moon in all its glory.

It was snowing that night, and it fell from the skies as fat wet flakes. I had never hunted before, and the gun felt unfamiliar in my hands, but still I knew the crunching sounds beneath my feet would betray my position and so I would walk slowly and deliberately through the snow. I lost track of time, the moon seemed almost motionless in the sky and what could've been minutes became hours. I truly am not sure as all that I was able to consider in the moment was making sure my steps were as sure-footed as possible in order to reduce the amount of possible sound I would make. I didn't notice the creature until it was only a few dozen feet away from me.

It was hunched over a huntsman on its hands and knees, pulling away flesh from a torn open hole in their vest. Even in the dim lighting of the moon through the clouds I could see the thick redness of the huntsman blood staining the snow and dribbling down the creatures chin and coating its claws. I was terrified, more terrified than I ever have or ever will be. I threw up right there, and the magma breached the thin stone. The creature's attention was drawn to me immediately.

It rose from the hunters corpse and turned to face me. The creature, the were-wolf as I now truly knew it to be, was a massive entity, nearly 8ft tall and an ungodly, abominable mix between the traits of a wolf and a man. Its body was proportioned like that of a human in some senses, but entirely unnatural in others. Its arms were gangly and skinny, and save for its oddly long paw-like hands with clawed bony, fingers, they seemed to be mostly human. Its legs resembled that of a wolf more than anything, with muscular thighs and bent in an unnatural way with feet double their natural length, as if they had been misshapen in a way to allow running at more impressive speeds.

Its torso was more like that of a humans in shape with with lupine aspects pulled over it, like a strange suit of skin, it had six nipples that ran parallel in rows of three and it was hunched in a manner like the weight of its upper body was too much for its back, and its spine bulged from its back, finally ending in a small, near vestigial tail. It appeared to be sexless as far as I could see. Its head was too large for its body, and almost all wolf, save the eyes. Massive and wild but with yellow eyes that still seemed to portray some hidden sentience, perhaps even emotion, as odd a trait as that is to prescribe to such a beast, and yet its teeth were bared in a way that seemed too animalistic for anything an intelligent human could, and even worse its breath rolled out of its blood-soaked mouth as thick steam.

I clenched my hands around the gun just from pure tension of seeing such a creature, accidentally pulling the trigger and letting out a shot before I had any time to aim. My silver bullet lodged itself within the beast's shoulder, and immediately its attention was torn away from me and towards its new injury. In its pain, rage and dare I say, fear, it created a sound so horrible and unnatural that I believe no human nor animal could ever reproduce it fully. It then grasped at its shoulder with the other arm and turned to run back into the black, beyond my field of view. And there I stood, grasping the gun that had lodged a legendary item into a legendary beast, and through a lucky shot that was entirely the reaction of nerves drawn too tight had saved my life.

A woman's body was found the next day, washed up on the shore of a nearby river with a thin blanketing of snow atop her frozen body. She had a hole the diameter of baseball burned through her shoulder, and at the bottom of that hole they found a small squashed piece of silver, I have no doubt that these were the remnants of a bullet.

I had never met that woman before in my life.

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[checkyesifulikeme]

on my birth chart & w. sidereal 

LONG ASS TANGENT THAT NO ONE BUT ME COULD EVER POSSIBLY CARE ABT BELOW LOL. i just needed to put it into words somewhere 4 myself.

when i first discovered the sidereal zodiac something clicked, like, automatic. i don’t want this to get confused as me trying to push anyone’s hand, to accept a system that does not resonate- although i definitely think it’s worth some digging, i really do. but i understand we all see through a different lens. some pick up what others put down and vice-versa. i 100% believe that both can be valid simultaneously- to each their own! but i was just in the shower thinking about how much sense My personal placements shifting { a little to the east or a little to the west } just Makes. i’m still a virgo rising and an aries sun. my moon shifts to sagittarius which DID throw me for a loop at first lmao. i’ve always clung very tightly to my capricorn moon, although it’s in detriment, it just made sense to me. but with further inspection it came together. a cap moon always resonated because of how quickly i push things away and how i just have trouble making sense of my emotions in general. but there were things that did not resonate, too. i don’t feel that my lower, emotional, instinctive self has trouble feeling necessarily- not to say that cap moons don’t feel but they are considered more detached- i’m steeped in my feelings. but sag moons, and the pada my moon falls into in particular (vedic- which utilizes the sidereal zodiac)- has trouble taking their feelings and connecting them to the outer world. a break in connection. they’re described as more carefree, expansion seeking (i def did not ID w/ the ‘traditional’ trope of capricorn+saturn placements), c h a n g e seeking. i feel like people on the outside who don’t understand my inner workings (which is ofc most ppl) might see me as saturnian in my emotions but i don’t really agree, they’re very, even OVERLY present at all times but connecting them to the surface, connecting w/ those around me through them, can be a bit foreign to me. which my moon in the 4th pada explains fully. along w/ that is my virgo asc: critical, nervous, detail-oriented, a bit of a ‘fixer.’ this is the lens i am filtered through when it comes to the general public. so it makes sense that this earthy screen door breaks up my fire to those who don’t know me well or those i don’t Want to know me well (sun, mars & saturn in the 8th house). place a hand on the screen and it’s hot, you can feel it on the other side, but the image is broken into bits n pieces. my sidereal pisces mercury on the other hand CLICKED instantly. dreamerrrr, to a T. a bit of a space-cadet. wonderful with words on paper and in my head, i love my inner monologue, but everything comes out discombobulated and easily misconstrued on the surface. as a kid i lived in my fantasies and when i say lived i mean LIVED like, convinced myself they were real because i indulged so often type-lived in them. lolll. i also like to make the point that because your sign only ever moves one over, it makes sense that my or your tropical chart could feel relatively homey. everything is connected, right? so why wouldn’t neighboring signs have energies and traits etc. that bleed into one another a bit? it’s all up to your interpretation anyhow. astrology is universal, it’s a tool for understanding at it’s baseline. and if everyone has different lenses, this makes sense. that’s why i don’t like when people try to invalidate those who make the switch to sidereal like ‘oh you just want a different sign’ ‘so you’re just saying you suddenly don’t relate to your tropical chart at all after utilizing it for X amount of time? sounds fake but OK...’ YK? LOL. energy is energy. energy bleeds. and aside from just that, the configuration (and this is the biggest piece of the puzzle for me) essentially just re-configures itself. scrambles all of the pieces into different places. in my chart in particular i see this, which is part of why the transition was so easy to make sense of for me, i think. i can totally understand someone looking at their sidereal chart and being totally put-off if nearly all of their signs have shifted in different directions and EVERYTHING’S completely different, but like i said before, i still think it’s worth looking into and doing some uncovering because in most cases i believe it can make sense. but like i said before, everyone has their lenses and experiences and perceptions and i 100% believe BOTH zodiacs are valid! (7H mercury hiii) this is just my take. energy bleeds, it’s fluid, it moves. idk. just something to think about, if that makes any sense at all to anyone other than me lol. MOVING ALONG ! so yeah your mercury sign has a great impact on your perception+communication, right? it’s almost holding hands with my asc, in my mind. all of the signs+planets are holding hands in the grand scheme of things but my asc and mercury just Feel like BFFs (they are sister signs after all!!!). virgo+pisces working together to shape much of my perceptions+communications when it comes to the outer-world with my virgo asc sitting in the passenger seat and my pisces mercury sitting shotgun. ya, that’s perfect. then those close to me experience more of my fire+water combo, when my guard is down and i feel free to express my innards with a certain level of authenticity that my virgo would otherwise have it’s grip on. next is my aries mars which again, makes toooo much sense. tropical = taurus. slow to anger? uhhhhm? that was the first thing to pop into my mind. i’m very impulsive and angry and childish and reactionary and moves-too-fast-for-my-own-damn-good when i’m excited or angry- anything that brings drive into the equation. i want X outcome, thing, whatever & i want it N O W ! very me, lol. before i chalked this up to being my aries mercury (communication) & sun but again, it’s like i had 1,000 piece puzzle that i’ve been trying to finish forever and almost all of the pieces were in place but there were just a few with familiar edges that fit but not quite. and then sidereal came along and i was able to pop them all in place, exactly how they should be, and suddenly everything is clear as crystal. it still blows my mind to think about lmao. then my venus OH my VENUS ! in sidereal aquarius as opposed to tropical pisces. nownownow. another one that felt very RIGHT but i definitely did experience some trouble detaching from my pisces venus because aspects did makes sense. but. again. the fucking 1,000 piece puzzle. my pisces mercury + my aqua venus. those piscean, compassionate, dreamy, almost unconscious traits. i still felt them, they were very real, very there. it was just a matter of interpreting exactly where those traits tied back to. venus represents: “love, romance, sensuality, culture, beauty, affection and social appeal.” ! aquarius is: “progressive, original, independent, humanitarian.” i relate very very very much to aqua venuses. in love of all kinds very detached, extremely open-minded yet at times stubborn (seeing as aqua is fixed air), i feel suffocated without my independence like clingy-ness makes me feel like a wild dog (which could previously be chalked up to my aries stellium ofc) PARTICULARLY in romantic relationships. there is definitely some pride here as well (fixed). aquas a bit of an anomaly because it’s so extremely independent and One but at the same time humanitarian and forever-extending to contain More. ‘One’ can be interpreted that way, though, singularly or collectively. makes cents. in relationships i’ve always vowed to never ever ever say i love you first, make the first move, etc. because i’m too proud and too comfortable with being detached, leaving no room for painful rejection (my virgo asc also comes into play). but it was easy for me to mix that up w/ a pisces venus because of my pisces mercury- my communication style. my deeply empathetic Understanding and wish to understand, to unravel and envelope- all while being fiercely independent and determined to have a clear and defined Self within that curiosity and feel for all else. y’know? idk if this makes sense to anyone but me but it makes the MOST sense to me lol. 1,000 pieces. and when it comes to sidereal the arrangement is unnervingly Me. so yeah. that’s why i use sidereal LOL. { not getting into further placements bc do u see how fucking long this thing is already but believe me i’ve got plenty more where tht came from :p } TOODLES.