#paul x oc
Text
Love at first murder
Paul x f!oc
Happy New Year!
After closing her shop, Nora realised she is being followed. She is prepared and managed to prevent anything bad from happening, but then this handsome boy shows up.
Paul has been feeling like shit lately and figures out why: he has found his mate.
--------------------------------
Sometimes, the boys would jokingly talk about finding their mate. Someone who would complete them in a way. David was deadly serious when he said that he didn't have a mate - although Paul thought Michael would have been pretty close to it had the whole Emerson affair not happened. Dwayne didn't mind the thought of a mate per se, but still, why would he need one when he was more than fine right now? Marko simply refused, even going so far as saying that he'd just kill his mate right then and there - no way that he would be tied down. Paul knew that realistically speaking, Marko wouldn't even be able to kill his mate, but the point was clear.
Paul, however, just always assumed he didn't have a mate. And if he did have one, it had to be someone who knew how to party. Someone who would yell along to his songs and didn't mind the drugs. But he, too, always said he didn't mind having no mate.
Lately, he had been feeling off, though. A strange knot forming in his stomach, tugging him a way from the cave and towards - well, somewhere. The feeling had started almost a month ago, and every single day that he tried to ignore it, it got worse. First, it was a small tug, but now it felt like he was slowly being ripped apart. So, he decided, after abandoning the boys for the evening, he would follow that bloody tug and see where it would lead him.
On the other side of town, in a small bookstore, a young twenty something year old girl sat behind the counter. The store was mostly empty, except for this grandma with her grandson, and she had decided that she could best spend her time reading while they browsed. Tonight's read was - once again - Anne of Green Gables. Oh, how she loved Anne and her dear friendship with Diana. And, how she loved the budding friendship between Gilbert and Anne. It never bored her, even though this was the ninth time that she read it.
Paul frowned as he sat outside the store in a tree. This girl - pretty but yet seemingly quite nerdy - had been the cause of all this? Was this girl - he realised this as the tug in his stomach lessened - his mate?
No. Paul refused. His mate would not be a hermit, a booknerd, someone who would describe every single drug as "You know, weed and such" and then giggle as if ot was something horribly tabboo. His mate couldn't be someone who probably never even heard of Black Sabbath before. How? In every store he heard about finding mates, he had always been told that they were made for each other. But this girl - she didn't seem to be the right fit for him. For Dwayne perhaps, but for him? He shook his head, deciding to leave.
"Was this everything?"
"Yes, thank you Nora. I'm so sorry for coming in this late."
"Nonsense," the girl behind the counter smiled. "I was still here, and I know how important a good book is."
"Grandma said this one had pirates," the boy looked proud. Nora grinned.
"It does! I'm certain you'll like this one. It's quite an adventure." She wrapped the copy of Peter Pan in some brown paper and handed it to the grandma. "That will be seven fifty."
As the grandma and grandson left, Nora closed the shop. She counted the money, put the bills in the save, locked the doors, and made sure the blinds were locked as well. Grabbing her bag, she looked around one last time before nodding. She had everything.
As she walked out the back, she couldn't help but feel as if she was being followed. Multiple times, did she stop and look around, but every time, the street was empty. "If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny!" She called out.
"Who says it's a joke?"
Nora turned around quickly, seeing an older man standing four feet away from her. He had a sickening grin, as if she were his prey. Nora's look darkened.
"What do you want?" She sounded impatient, which she was. She just wanted to go home and watch a good movie, read some more, enjoy a cup of tea, and then go to bed.
"Smile for me, pretty."
"Fuck you, asshole," she crossed the street, her hand gliding into her bag. Her dad had told her to always be prepared. She had forgotten her pepper spray at home, but the boxknife she used to open deliveries to her store was safely tucked away in her bag. Her hand closed around it, ready to pull it out if needed.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, bitch!" He came at her, quickly. She couldn't move away. He pushed her to the ground. He was out of breath, grinning madly. She looked at him. She tightened the hold on her knife. The man moved down as if to kiss her and-
She stabbed him. His cheek. His eye. He fell backwards, his blood covering both himself and Nora. She tried to push him off of her, but he was heavy - to heavy for her. She tried to crawl away from under him but had no luck.
"Shit!"
"Fucking hell, are you okay?"
Nora screamed, eyes widened. "Where the fuck did you come from?"
The boy, tall and looking as if he could have been performing at a rock concert looked at her.
"I heard some struggling and came to see what was going on. "
"Can you help me move him? I-" Nora hadn't even finished her sentence, or the guy had already lifted the man up. Seemingly as if the creep weighed nothing.
"Thanks."
"Glad to know you can defend yourself."
"Hm?" Nora looked up. She had been a bit lost in thought, wondering if she had killed him - and if so, what the consequences were. And then, what was this boy doing here, helping her? And why was he so familiar, so handsome, and why did he feel so safe?
"You did quite a number on him."
"Is he alive?"
"Barely."
"Oh." She sat on the curb still, shaking a little.
"You did nothing wrong," the guy held her hands, having a slightly proud look on his face. "You protected yourself. That's all."
"So we just leave him here?"
"Yeah. It's no one's loss. Believe me."
Nora nodded, getting up with his help. "Let's get you cleaned up. The boardwalk is pretty empty right now, so you can use the showers at the beach without anyone asking questions."
Nora walked with him, not asking how he knew about the number of people on the boardwalk or how he knew that no one would ask questions. Her whole dress was covered with blood, and she thought it was quite noticeable. When they arrived at the showers, the guy turned to look at her.
"I don't even know your name."
"Nora."
"Paul." He grinned. "What's your size? Than I'll get you some clean clothes."
"You really don't have to, I-"
"Come on, when I take you out that's when people will notice the blood on your dress."
"Wait, what do you mean take me out?"
"You know, a date? I'd like to know more about you."
Nora couldn't help but feel flustered. "Alright. I'm somewhere between an M and an L."
"Don't worry, I got you," Paul grinned, "I'll knock three times when I get back."
Nora smiled despite everything. Something about Paul made her feel safe. The way he helped her without asking any questions or being freaked out... she liked it. She liked him - which was weird because she only met him an hour ago. And yet, she realised as she washed the blood of her face, she would follow him to hell if he asked.
Paul still wasn't sure what to think. Nora was different than he thought her to be. Even before accepting that she was his mate had he realised that she was beautiful - but seeing how she protected herself, how she was clearly freaked out by the whole situation, and still managed to think straight. He liked it. He liked her. Maybe, he thought as he grabbed two dresses. Maybe she was the right fit. Maybe he didn't need someone who was exactly like him.
Nora opened the door after hearing three knocks. Paul stayed outside, handing her the two dresses. "I didn't know which size would be better, so I got both." Nora smiled. That was kind of him, she thought as she put the larger one on. It was comfy and warm.
"So," she said as she got out of the shower unit, "if we were to go on a date, where would you take me?"
"Dinner, obviously."
"Alright. But, " and she looked very strictly at him, "I pay. You already helped me with well, you know, and with the dresses. I pay for the food."
"That all depends on who gets the waiters' attention first, babe."
Nora smiled. They decided on pizza, and after finishing it, it had been Paul who had been the quickest in gaining the waiters' attention. It might have been because Paul had yelled: "Yo, we're ready to pay here!" Nora had given him the win.
"Paul?" It was in the early hours of the morning, and he had just dropped her of at home. "Do you want to hang out again? Tomorrow maybe?"
Paul was quiet for a moment before smiling. "Yeah, I would. Pick you up at eight?"
Nora nodded. She had almost reached her front door when she turned around, walked back and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for tonight."
With those words, she disappeared inside her house, leaving Paul alone.
"What's got you so happy?" Marko asked as he entered the cave. "Found a good fuck?"
"Better."
"What's better than that?"
"I found my mate."
"Holy shit," Marko looked at him. "For real? What are they like?"
"Nerdy. Adorable. And absolutely amazing."
"You're whipped dude."
"How did you know?" Dwayne had walked in.
"Ah, it was love at first murder," Paul grinned. Maybe having a mate wasn't so bad.
#the lost boys#marko#david#paul#dwayne#tlb#the lost boys 1987#tlb 1987#the lost boys x reader#lost boys#paul x reader#paul x oc#paul tlb
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
choices
in which servant serena idaho gets roped into being a possible bride for the duke paul atreides to even out the number of candidates.
paul atreides x oc!idaho
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @lizzxoxoxo @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @danni-phant0m @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @lilmaymayy @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @abruuinlove @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden
#paul atreides#paul atreides x oc#paul atreides x original character#paul x oc#duke paul atreides#dune movie#oc#house atreides#lady jessica#leto atreides#duncan idaho#dune#timothée chalamet#timothee chalamet#timothée chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet fanfiction#timothée chalamet x oc#timothee chalamet x oc#timothée x oc#timothee x oc#timothée chalamet fanfiction#timothée fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#my work#my ocs <3#dune 2021#paul atreides x female original character#timothee fanfic#timmy tim
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
We Daren't Go A-Hunting for Fear of Little Men - Chapter One
(Masterlist)
Fandom: Dune
Ship: Paul x OMC, Paul x Duncan
Summary: There were 48 000 gods in their mythologies and not one appeared to him except for HER. She was beautiful, even under the blood and gore which coated her from head to foot. Her skin was as white as freshly fallen snow, her hair soft and silver like starlight spun to thread.
Warnings: Magic au. Fantasy au. Battle. Injury. Blood. Near death experience. Old Gods.
Taglist: @succnfuccubus
There were 48 000 gods in their mythology, Goddesses to watch over lovers who had been lost at sea, to temper the waves and guide sailors home. Gods whose job it was to water the earth with their blood, making it fertile. Gods who pulled life from that fertile land and made the flowers bloom in the spring. Gods and Goddesses of war, death and destruction that lead the dead to the promised land. To lead a fallen soldier to rest and peace.
Every little facet of living life had a patron god for humanity to kneel at the foot of and pray pray pray. And yet…. And yet…
There were 48 000 gods in their mythology and Duncan was praying to every single one. Praying to DANDRA for courage, praying to AILA for strength, praying to NURAND for the will to stand and continue fighting. To ignore the wound in his gut and his life seeping away drip by bloody drip. To let him fulfill his honoured duty to House Atreides, to his Duke and to the boy turned young man who he was most loyal to.
There were 48 000 gods in their mythology and Duncan called upon every one known to share their blessings with those who know death is calling. Dying from a thousand cuts, dying from bright red blood spilt on cold stone, dying from a sword to the core. God whose symbols have been worn by warring tribes for centuries. Through sweeping victories and devastating defeats, cultures and societies waxing and waning. Whose symbols he himself wears, drawn on armour in white chalk.
There were 48 000 gods in their mythologies and not one appeared to him until the very end. Duncan was laying on the cold, wet stone, rain falling warm on his face. He could no longer find the will to stand and fight, his body depleted and weak. He only hoped that he had done enough to protect those he swore to protect. That the House of Atreides would prove victorious in this battle.
There were 48 000 gods in their mythologies and not one appeared to him except for HER. She was beautiful, even under the blood and gore which coated her from head to foot. Her skin was as white as freshly fallen snow, her hair soft and silver like starlight spun to thread. SCATHACH was a Goddess of Death, one who only appeared to those fallen in battle and ready to breathe their last. So Duncan knew his time was up and he was ready for her hand in his, leading the way.
Laying on the wet stone Duncan's eyes fell closed, he had seen the face of the goddess of death and he had made peace with the thought. The world was fading away, the pain in his side, the rain falling on his face, all that remained was the memory of Paul. The memory of his boy, laughing and vibrant and alive. Duncan hoped that his efforts had turned the tide of the battle and the Atreides forces would come out the victor.
Suddenly he heard a voice call for him in the darkness.
“DUNCAN!"
The voice was familiar and otherworldly, pulling him back from the brink. It was full of anguish but underneath was an edge of determination, as strong as steel. He felt hands on his face, burning hot against his ice cold skin. Duncan forced his eyes open, his eyelids felt like lead, but he needed to see, need to know. He saw again the shining face of SCATHACH, before she faded away and in her stead there was Paul, his Paul.
Paul's black curls were soaking wet and clinging to his face and neck in messy clumps. There was a cut along his hairline and a line of blood was dripping down the side of his face, the red stark against his pale skin. Duncan couldn't help but think the colour really brought out the green in his eyes, making them glow like veridian. The chalk glyphs on his armour were only the faintest of smudged lines, their power and protections faded.
'STAY AWAKE' the command was dripping with power, with the weirding magiks of The Voice. 'LIVE'
So Duncan had no choice, his boy, the lord of his heart had commanded it and so it was to be. He found the strength to hold on while the healers arrived. While they patched him up enough to transport him back to the castle. Paul refused to leave his side the whole time, face wrecked with barely disguised pain and line with exhaustion.
Duncan lost consciousness as they were settling him in the infirmary but it was the sleep of healing not death. While he slept he dreamt of Paul. Of when he had first come to work for the House of Atreides, when Paul was barely a teen. Voice cracking and all awkward limbs. He dreamt of the first time Paul won a match against one of his instructors, his joy and laughter ringing through the halls.
He dreamt of Paul, at a Gala hosted by the House a few months back, of the beautiful tunic his mother had commissioned for him to wear. He had stolen the gaze of everyone present, Duncan included. Although he had tried to deny it, to keep his thoughts and feelings towards the young princeling pure. He failed.
Header by me
Divider by firefly-graphics
#kirstin's chronicles#dune#dune fanfiction#dune fanfic#WDGAH#magic au#fantasy au#paul x oc#paul x omc#paul x duncan#atreidaho#m/m
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Under the Veil | Epilogue
Series Summary: Duke Leto Atreides had a woman he loved and an heir he was proud of. The reason why he never married the mother of his son was a political one, the very same reason why he was marrying a girl half his age he had never met.
A/N: sorry this took so long, I hope you'll like it! Please do leave feedback, and reblog!
Words: 1634
Masterlist | series masterlist
The light breeze carried the briny smell of the sea as the sun shied away behind the heavy grey clouds. Sierra was lying on the soft blanket they had stretched on the grass, her head resting in Jessica’s lap as she gently caressed her hair. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the weak rays of sunshine filtering through the thick clouds and Leto moved up slightly from where he was sitting, protecting his wife from the sun, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth to place a kiss on her fingertips. She smiled at him, the joy on her face and the love in her eyes warmed his heart like a gentle flame burning brighter than the sun behind his back. A sudden grimace appeared on her face and came to ruin the peaceful mood and bring worry to Leto’s mind. But she quickly gave him a reassuring smile as she took his hand and brought it to her round belly. The corner of his lips twitched as he felt his child kick against his palm. It never ceased to amaze him.
“She’s grown and healthy,” Jessica said as her fingers brushed either side of Sierra’s jaw as she leaned over.
“I know,” Sierra smiled, sliding a hand in Jessica’s hair and pulling her for a kiss.
Jessica’s lips always tasted sweet, which was always odd. Sierra thought she looked salty. A strong powerful taste that made you thirsty for more. But Jessica tasted like berries, and smelled of flowers. But not the candy like. She was bitter. In a good way. In the best way.
“She won’t be long now,” Jessica added as she brushed her nose against Sierra’s.
“You keep saying that,” Sierra complained. “And she’s still not here.”
“Patience, my love,” Leto said as he moved his hand on his wife’s belly, caressing the soft fabric of her dress. “She’ll be here soon enough.”
***
Sierra had taken the habits of wandering around the castle as much as she could. It was the first thing she did after breakfast and the last thing she did before bed. The windy hills offered her a breath of fresh air she longed for and made her feel like home. She had gotten used to the cold beach and the humid sand, learning to appreciate the salty smell of the sea and the cries of the seagulls.
It had been a hard conversation for Leto to start when they came near her due date and he had wanted her to stop leaving the comfort of the castle so much. He worried she’d start her labor in the middle of the deserted hills, with only Edward there to help her. So they had to compromise, and now Nesta and Caro followed her wherever she went. She hated to be such a hindrance to her housekeeper and healer, but she would have hated being confined to her quarters even more. What she didn’t hate, however, was the constant presence of either Jessica, or Leto, or both.
On that night, after having had a pleasant dinner with them, with Paul and Sisi, she had gone to bed with a relieved sigh of exhaustion. Everything hurt. From head to toe. And yes, perhaps the usual baths she shared with her husband and concubine helped, but it never chased the pain away entirely. And although she fell asleep relaxed on most nights, on that night, her headache and sore feet felt a bit more painful, and she knew she would wake up before daybreak.
A couple of hours past midnight, Sierra was awakened to a wet bed. Leto was fast asleep to her right, Jessica to her left, and an uncontrollable whine of pain came out of her mouth to break the silence of the night and wake the two people she loved most in her life.
Leto blinked as she did her best to sit up, propping herself up with her elbows, biting her lower lip, trying to conceal another cry of pain.
“Sierra?” his tired puzzled voice only a whisper from his lips.
“Leto,” she called, the tone of her voice leaving no place for doubt. He had to wake up. He had to wake up now.
Sierra felt movement from the left side of the bed and light came to chase the night away and reveal the wet sheets under her.
“It’s time,” Jessica said as she nodded to Leto, reminding him of what he had to do.
He jumped off the bed and hurried to the door where he found Edward and his colleagues to whom he gave the orders to start the protocol they had agreed upon months before.
“It hurts,” Sierra sobbed as she tried to take deep breaths.
“I know love, but you’ll be alright, I promise.”
Jessica moved to leave the bed but Sierra seized her wrists and begged with her eyes.
“Please don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetling,” Jessica said as she leaned to press a kiss on Sierra’s temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulled the sheets away from Sierra as Leto rejoined them and went straight to his wife and helped her sit upright. She clung to him as she knew he would let her go to allow Caro and the midwives to do their job. She looked up at her husband, with fear in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile as he leaned towards her and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I will be with you, always,” he whispered.
They remained in each other’s arms for as long as they could, until Caro entered the room and loudly ordered the Duke of Caladan to move away from the princess. He did so with an amused smile that his wife returned. It was all in Caro’s hands now. They were going to be fine.
***
Sierra stared at herself in the mirror, running her hands over her dress, trying to chase away the wrinkles staining her beautiful gown. Jessica appeared behind her, wrapped her arms around her waist and brought her to her chest before she left a kiss on her neck.
“You look beautiful.”
Sierra smiled back at her lover’s reflection in the mirror before she turned around and took a look at Jessica’s own dress.
“So do you,” she said before she leaned to kiss her lips. “Big day, today.”
“Indeed,” Jessica sighed.
“Will you be okay?”
“I’m sure I will be.”
“What a sight.”
The two mothers turned to see Leto, in his uniform, walk towards them, his two year old daughter in his arms.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” he smirked.
“A bit late for that,” Jessica said as he leaned to kiss her, while Sierra took her daughter from him.
“You look gorgeous,” he whispered to his concubine.
“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Sierra cooed at her child. “Did daddy dress you?”
“Daddy tried,” Leto admitted, “but Nesta did.”
The two women chuckled as the toddler repeated Nesta’s name.
“Look at you,” he told his wife, “as beautiful as you were on our own wedding day.”
“Minus the tears,” she added. “Doesn’t daddy look handsome,” she whispered in her child’s ear.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, making them laugh.
Sierra tiptoed as she cupped her husband’s cheek and pressed a kiss on his lips. “We’re going to be late.”
“I’ll go check on Paul,” Jessica said, waving at the little girl before she exited the room.
“Bye, Jessica,” Sierra took her daughter’s arm and waved her goodbye. “You look so pretty,” she repeated before placing a kiss on her head.
“Just like her mother.”
“And what are you trying to get with this flattery, husband?” she said playfully.
“Nothing we can do in the presence of our little one,” he replied with a knowing smile.
“Not that we have time for it, anyway.”
“Indeed,” he hummed as he leaned in to kiss his wife. “We should go. The wedding won’t start until we’re there.”
“And wouldn’t the Prime Minister be heartbroken,” Sierra joked, and Leto’s laugh echoed in the room as they stepped out.
***
It was weird for Sierra to step foot in that chapel once more, two years after her wedding. She remembered everything from that day, everything she had felt, every ache in her heart. But now, all she could think about was Leto’s kind words and his caring gestures. Everything bad had been forgotten, cast aside to leave place for his smile, and the sincerity in his eyes. The memories from that day she had feared were now the ones she most cherished.
She watched Sisi walk towards the altar in her beautiful wedding gown towards Paul, and smiled as she knew both of them wanted this. Yes, it was a marriage for political reasons, but at least they wanted it.
And when they exchanged their vows, Leto took her hand in his, and when they shared they wedding rings, Sierra intertwined her fingers with his, and when they kissed, she tightened her hold on her daughter, with tears of happiness in her eyes.
She had made Leto promise he would never do to their daughter what her father had done to her. He wouldn’t send her away to marry an old man she had never met. She was not the heir, and she would not be a political tool. She wouldn’t need to be, she wasn’t going to be. She would marry for love should she choose to marry at all. But she would be free to do whatever she liked. To study, to work, to love.
And she watched the couple with grateful eyes as she knew the chance they had to have been able to marry for both love and duty, as she knew her daughter wouldn’t need to do either.
*********
Tags: @karolajnx0yep @partypoison00 @beepboopyoda @cute-baby-ducks @theliterarybeldam @slytherisstuff @rayisthehoe
#dune#fanfic#fanfiction#imagine#oc#reader#duke leto atreides#leto atreides#leto x oc#leto x reader#paul x oc#jessica x oc#leto x oc x jessica#lady jessica#jesicca
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone
Juliet was sitting on top of her rental car. It had been an hour since she had taken the wrong exit off route 101 and it was now dark. It was only six o’clock so she decided to look at the stars a while before
she drove into the next town to find a place to stay. She had her phone stolen in San Jose and only had limited money so she’d have to find a job.
The sound of motorcycles interrupted her peace, it wasn’t all too surprising as she hadn’t moved that far away from the road. What was surprising, however, was that these motorists stopped beside her. They clearly knew the area, she assumed they must be locals.
“Hey doll!” One of them called up at her as he stepped off the bike, “What are you doing out here?”
She waved with a shy smile, “Just enjoying the view”
Another wolf whistled at this comment, “I’m liking the view from here” The comment caused Juliet to blush as she hid her face in her hands.
“Don’t go shy now, darlin’” A third voice cooed causing her to redden even more
“You’re totally bodacious, babe! Like your bod is killer!”
Juliet looked up confused, all embarrassment forgotten. “…what?” The four guys burst out laughing, she presumed it was because she had a habit of scrunching her nose up when she was confused. Her mum always made fun of the trait. “Meanies!” she muttered, not thinking they would hear her.
Suddenly they were all climbing onto the roof, “Aww, did we upset you, angel?” He cooed at her again, holding her wrist so she couldn’t cover her face. His brown eyes gazed into her hazel ones intently. She
felt her face heat up as she nodded.
A cackled laugh made her jump, “You psyched her out, Marko! She’s wigging out!”
“So, princess, Marko was calling you beautiful. He said your body was gorgeous. And I have to agree with him, you are absolutely perfect” His explanation was soft and gentle as he caressed her face. As soon as he had released her wrists, she brought a hand to her mouth and began picking at the chapped skin on her lips. “Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself, sweetheart”
The bikers had checked her into a motel about half an hour ago with a promise to return with food. Juliet was putting her clothes away with a dance as she sang. Completely unaware the door had opened. “He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said” She took a breath and her volume doubled, “Marry me, Juliet! You’ll never have to be alone! I love you and that’s all I really know!”
“Nice singing, babe” She jumped as there was a voice from the door, causing her to drop the clothes in her hands. She immediately turned a bright shade of pink as she tried to pick them up.
In a few strides, there were a pair of hands there to collect the fabrics for her. “We didn’t mean to startle you, princess. You were adorable dancing around in your own world” He leant close to her, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke into her ear - his voice deep and soft. She was certain she was as red as a rose at this point, all words lost in the moment.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Keep Your Enemies
Chapter One: Humiliation
AO3 Author’s Note/Info/Glossary one two three four five
All my work is 18+.
I was raised by wolves, taught to fight until the death. Slowly wear you down to your very last breath. I can hear your heart pound; you don’t think I’m a threat.- In This Moment, Hunting Grounds
Seraphine of the impoverished jungle planet Beakkal had made a number of mistakes in the nineteen years of her life. She had sassed her mother one too many times and been slapped in response. She had put the cloth of her young siblings’ diapers on incorrectly, resulting in downright unspeakable messes. She had burned the bread in the bakery her family owned, costing them money they didn’t have. She had eaten too much of said bread and gained more weight than was strictly necessary. She had stayed up too late reading books that were falling apart. She had done a number of things and regretted them.
Planning an assassination attempt on the Emperor most definitely took the cake, though. She hadn’t even gotten that far in the execution of her plans— her plot had been discovered before he’d touched down on Beakkal to make his stupid speech.
As it turned out, she wasn’t the first woman to attempt his assassination. She was one of several dozen who had been shipped off to Caladan, the Atreides homeworld where he had chosen to move the seat of power upon his ascension to the Golden Lion Throne.
All of them were made into dancers for his entertainment. It was beyond humiliating, most especially because so much of her body was exposed. There was a strange contraption sculpted to her breasts so that the tops of them were bare but still held in place, and the skirt of the ensemble was a belt with a floor-length piece of fabric covering her backside and a corresponding one in the front as well. There were two additional pieces of fabric draped below her hips, which were otherwise bare. The fabric was a shimmering white, which was supposed to indicate to the Emperor that she’d never been to bed with anyone. She wouldn’t have disclosed that information had it not been forced out of her by a Bene Gesserit.
A jeweled bracelet adorned her ankle, and a matching veil of jewels and metal concealed most of her face from view. This was for the best, she thought; at least the Atreides wouldn’t see more of her face than her eyes, if he saw her at all.
Sera had been instructed to dance with the others in a group—what she’d been shown hardly seemed like dancing to her; a strange undulating of the hips, mostly—unless she was singled out by the Emperor himself, in which case she was expected to perhaps even straddle him. This was unlikely, she’d been informed, as he’d never requested it before. Still, she’d told the women who had attempted to train her up front that she wouldn’t dance for him no matter what was done to her. Her bones could be broken and she still wouldn’t. They acted as if they didn’t believe her, but she was firm in her convictions.
The Emperor sat on his throne, high on a dais above her and the group of girls where they were being presented to him. She hid behind the others and the bright colors some of them wore. Hiding was easy, she had found— they were all so much taller than she was, than any Beakkalian she’d ever known. One of the women who’d measured her had tutted, informing her she was 4’10”.
The Emperor didn’t seem terribly interested in the group of dancers; he looked at them briefly before continuing to speak to one of several scantily clad (though not quite as much as Sera currently was) woman standing beside where he sat.
“Go!” hissed one of the guards. “Entertain him!”
Several of the women stepped forward hesitantly, beginning to move their bodies the way they’d been taught, and Sera soon found herself without her shield.
“Dance, girl!” snapped the same guard.
Sera didn’t budge.
The movement of the others must’ve caught his eye, because the Emperor shot the group another cursory glance before finding his advisor again, and then—
And then he suddenly stopped speaking to the woman beside him, slowly, ever so slowly, turning his head back towards the lot of them.
To Sera’s absolute horror, his gaze went straight to her.
He stood, all those speaking falling silent as he did. She watched fearfully as he descended the dais without ever taking his eyes off hers, not even for a moment, and within less than a minute, he was standing before her.
He was tall— far taller than she’d been expecting, towering over her and staring at her intently as she shrank back.
Whispers filled her ears of how this never happened, that no dancer had ever caught his attention, he never bothered with them, preferring to speak with his friends, advisors, or concubines, especially those that had beared his three daughters.
When he spoke, she almost didn’t understand him; his voice was low, as if he didn’t want anyone but her to hear. “Remove your veil.”
Sera didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Why did he want her to do that? How dare he order her to do anything?
The guard hissed again. “Do as your Emperor commands!”
She remained still. She wasn’t entirely sure if she could move.
“Either you remove it or I do,” the Emperor warned.
Horrified at the mere idea of him touching her, she hastily removed the veil, turning her gaze to the floor and letting her white-blond curls shield her face from view. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want him to see her.
“Look at me,” the Emperor demanded. “Let me see your face.”
She did nothing, and just when the guard snapped, “You will obey the Emperor!”, the man in question put his fingers beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him, her eyes wide with terrified confusion.
“Sera,” he breathed, awe filling the glowing blue of his gaze, and she gasped, jerking away from him. How did he know her name? Had someone told him? That wasn’t even her full name, it was her nickname, her personal name; only those who knew her called her that. How had he known? Why had he wanted to see her face? Then he turned to the guard who had been so angry at her not doing what she’d been told. “You will never command this woman again,” the Emperor informed him. “From this moment on, she answers to me and no one else.”
The guard sputtered in shock, and Sera choked on the air she hadn’t realized she’d begun inhaling again.
Then, he turned to address his court, who were looking on in astonishment. “I present,” he began, pointing at Sera’s trembling form, “Lady Seraphine of the Atreides, High Concubine and Imperial Consort. She is to be treated with the respect and reverence her position deserves. Anyone found in violation of this is to be brought directly to me.”
There was silence for several seconds before every person in the room knelt with a collective murmur of, “My Lady.”
Finally finding her voice, she gasped out, “N— no,” shaking her head as the Emperor whipped around to face her once more.
“No?” he asked. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
She shook her head more firmly, backing further away from him.
“I won’t be your concubine.”
“You misunderstand, little Sera,” he told her slowly. “I am not asking your permission.”
“I won’t let you touch me,” she hissed. “I’ll fight against you every second, and I will never, never, give you children the way those women have.” She jerked her chin to where his concubines stood, looking on in shock.
“I won’t force you,” he assured her.
“Liar,” she snapped. “I know what you people are like. I want no part in it. You deserve to die.” She spit at his feet.
He smirked. “I was with the Fremen for several years, you know,” he told her casually. “They view that as a gift; the water of one body to another.”
“I’m not Fremen,” Sera pointed out. “I’m Beakkalian. We have no shortage of water, Atreides.”
He shrugged. “You’ll taste me soon enough regardless.”
She jerked forward, ready to strangle him, but guards surged up and grasped her arms, her feet dangling in the air.
“Release her,” the Emperor immediately demanded. “This is my woman. You are not to lay your hands on her. Her body is reserved for me alone.” She thrashed against their hold, desperate to get at him, to throttle him, and was given the chance to do just that when the guards released her, albeit reluctantly.
Sera launched herself at him, intending to tackle him to the ground and choke the life from him, but he caught her in his arms. She pushed back against him, but he was stronger than he looked. He was skinny, but his arms were like iron around her.
“Out,” he commanded his court. “All of you.”
Every person in the throne room shuffled through the doors, which she quickly found herself backed up against, but at least he let her go.
The Emperor was staring into her eyes with an intensity she didn’t know what to make of.
“I’ve envisioned you being mine for years,” he told her, his gaze trailing down her form and fixating on her breasts for a moment before continuing on to where the panels of her skirt left her hips bare. His hands twitched at his sides, and she wondered if he wanted to touch her, hold her against him once more.
With him so close, some traitorous part of her wanted to know what his skin would feel like, if his hair was as soft as it looked. Sera was becoming increasingly frightened. What was happening to her? Had he done something to her, something to make her see him in ways she shouldn’t? This was the Emperor, for god’s sake! She’d planned his demise, and he’d be dead if he hadn’t been caught. So why…?
“You were always meant for me,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I know my destiny, little Sera, and you’re part of it.” Sera tensed at the mention of how much taller he was than her, felt a wave of indignation flow through her, but he ignored the expression on her face. “I’m going to take care of you,” he promised lowly. “In every way. Mentally, emotionally, sexually. You will never know another, and one can give me what you can.”
“I don’t understand,” Sera confessed shakily, too frightened and shellshocked to vocalize anger. “Give you what?”
The Emperor smirked. “You’re going to give me a number of things only you are capable of,” he informed her slowly, tilting his head to the side. “Happiness, sons.” He paused. “Love.”
Rage filled her veins. “I will not— you’d have to force me,” she hissed, “I have no love for you, and I never will. If you touch me, I’ll slit your throat the first chance I get. I swear it.”
He looked insulted, almost. “I’m not going to force you.” He paused. “I won’t take you until you want me, but you are going to want me.”
“I’ll never want you,” she insisted. “Never.”
“You will,” he responded flatly. “I have prescience, Sera. Did you know that?”
She shook her head, eyes wide.
The Emperor nodded. “I know exactly what you and I are meant for, what we’ve always been meant for. The first time I take you, it will be in my bed, and you will spread your legs and beg for me.”
She was confused. Why would she spread her legs? She bled from there, had seen her mother and sister-in-law birth babies from there— why would he want that?
“Oh, my darling girl,” he breathed, caging her in by placing his hands on the door her back was against at either side of her head. “You really are an innocent, aren’t you? Worry not. I’ll teach you. I’m going to fuck you within an inch of your life, give you more pleasure than you know what to do with. You’ll get addicted to me, and I to you.”
“I don’t understand,” she confessed, terrified. “You aren’t going to force yourself on me?”
He shook his head vehemently. “No. I have no desire to touch a woman who doesn’t want it, first of all. Second, I need only wait. You’ll want me before long.”
“I think not, Your Majesty,” she snapped back.
“Call me Paul, lovely one. And you will. I’ve seen it.”
“Seen what, Paul?” Sera demanded, scoffing as she said his name.
“You. Us.”
“Us?”
“It’s difficult to explain when you don’t know how it works,” he informed her slowly. “I’ll describe it in more detail when you’re ready, but I’ve seen us in bed together. I’ve seen you kissing me, touching me, loving me. I’ve seen you pregnant with my children. You are mine, Sera. You belong to me. You have always belonged to me.”
She shook her head. “I’m not yours. I will never be yours.”
“You will,” Paul informed her flatly. “You can delay it, but there is no escaping this. We are inevitable. I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. You cannot prevent it, either.”
She lifted her chin at him defiantly. “Watch me.”
Yeah I know it took me awhile to get chapter one out but what you have to keep in mind is that 1) I’m severely ADD and 2) I do what I want get rekt
Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea
To be added, please ask 💗
#my writing#fanfiction#fanfic#dune kinktober#dune fandom events#dune#dune film#dune movie#dune 2021#dune fanfiction#original character#original female character#OC#fem oc#fem!oc#paul atreides#paul atreides x oc#paul x oc#paul atreides x original character#paul atreides x ofc#paul atreides x original female character
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
It All Started With a Smile
A/N: I love the Lost Boys-- I'm a hoe for them, I'm not sorry. This is a Poly!Lost Boys x Adopted!EmersonOC, might be a series, but there will definitely be a part 2. I hope you guys like it. I also used Google to find the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, and it's up for digital download if y'all are interested. I used pages 50-51.
A/N2: This OC is a WOC, again I'm not sorry.
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, Cursing, second hand stealing, not beta read, hints at a boner (ya gotta squint to see it lol), OC is a bit annoying but who isn't, We really only meet Marko (teehee)
Word Count: 9787
(GIF by @jordanlahey)
MINORS DNI!!!!
Chapter 1
“Well, kiddo, how was the trip?” Glancing up from my book, I pull my headset off, giving grandpa a questioning look, “Didn’t hear me, did ya?”
“Sorry, Papa E.” I give him a sheepish smile, book marking my page, as I sit up on my bed motioning for him to sit as well, “You now have my full attention.”
“Just wondering how you liked the trip over here.” He gives me one of his rare smiles, as he takes a peak at my book, “Homeric Hymn to Demeter, eh? Getting some light reading done before the semester starts?”
I can’t stop the smile that finds its way to my face as I admire the worn book cover, “Something like that, yeah… but I already graduated, remember?”
“Oh, yeah… It’s this growing old business, I tell ya. Don’t do it!” Papa Emerson furrowed his brow staring at a spot on the floor, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on his face, which caused him to give me a questioning glance before he started laughing himself. After a few moments, we clam down, and he pats my knee, smiling as he does.
“That was a good laugh, but as far as growing old goes, I don’t think I have much choice.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s true. Can’t live forever.” There’s something odd about what he said, almost as if he doesn’t actually believe it. I can’t help but look at Papa’s face questioningly, as he gazes back at that spot on the floor. A beat of silence passes between us, and before I can question his words, it’s broken by Sam and Michael running down the stairs.
“Those boys are going to tear my house apart.” There’s a grumble in Papa E’s voice as he casts his eyes to my closed door, sending his own hard glare through– like he’s willing those two idiots to stop. Chuckling, I shake my head at his antics, nudging his shoulder.
“Gramps, no matter how hard you glare at the door, and try to send a telepathic command to those buffoons, they’ll never stop… Unless, you know, they break something.” I sigh as I hear Sam’s muffled yell coming from downstairs, and Michael’s panicked voice as the sound of glass reaches our ears, “See.”
“BOYS!” Mom isn’t one to yell– not to me anyway– but when she’s had enough of the bullshit, she’ll let you know, and right now, she’s done with Sam and Mikey, “If you aren’t going to help, go expel all the energy outside.”
Papa E sighs deeply, rubbing his face as he worries about what just broke. Getting up, I walk to my door, glancing out, mom’s already found the dustpan and started cleaning up the broke mug.
“It’s alright Pops, it was one of the mugs I made in ceramics a while back.” Shrugging, I sit back down, smiling at him, “I made it for dad, but I guess it wasn’t something he cared for since it's here.”
“You know, your mother is the only woman I know, that gets the worst deal out of a divorce.” Grandpa looks up at me and laughs at the deadpan look I give him.
“Well, she married a dick, whaddaya expect?... Plus, she’s just so… so…” Sneering at my hands, I try to think of the right word, thankfully grandpa pitches in.
“Nice?”
“Yes! Like that bastard made your life miserable! Be angry, have rage! You’re entitled to it!” I don’t even try to hide my own distaste for mom’s civil approach to everything, “I don’t understand why– or how she’s so calm about all this?! He basically kicked us out of the house, because he isn’t man enough to go work and find his own place to stay.” By now, I’m pacing around my room, throwing my arms around, glaring at an invisible person as I give them a piece of my mind, “Like, dude, you kicked out your OWN KIDS! If I ever see his face again, it’ll be too soon.”
“Seems like you’re picking up the slack on that anger.” Papa E, has an awkward kind of smile, as he watches me with raised brows, “How do the boys feel about this?”
Sighing, I sit back down, picking at the threads of my ripped jeans, “Sammy is only 14 and has this thought that if it doesn’t work out here, we’ll go back to Phoenix, and dad will magically take us back… and Michael… Mike thinks he’s unbothered, cool, and in control of his very fragile 17-year-old life. I think he thinks that if he doesn’t talk about it, it's not going to bother him, but it does– it bugs the hell out of all of us. I can hide it better, but this is Mikey’s own father. How do you just roll with the thought of your own father dumping you and making you fend for yourself?... That piece of shit.”
“Hey.” Grandpa gives me face for my language, to which I apologize for, “... Well, I suppose I can’t be too hard on you… You’ve always been my favorite.”
Laughing, I lightly push his shoulder, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I helped you with your taxidermy when I was 7, would it?”
“... Maybe…?”
“Oh geez Gramps.” Sharing a chuckle, I recall when mom found the two of us in his ‘secret red room’ and totally flipped because my skin was turning red from the formaldehyde. On top of that, my throat got super irritated, and I was grounded, forbidden, and banned from Gramps’ workshop– by mom, “Remember when mom came in looking for me, and her eyes totally fell on the floor from how red I looked–”
“-- HA! Do I ever– and I said, ‘Lucy, relax, we’re in a red lit room course she’s going to look red’.”
“Oh my god, YES! And she pulled me out into the living room, then grandma came in from the kitchen, wondering what all the fuss was about.”
“... Yup… She wasn’t too happy.” He lightly chuckles at the memory of grandma walking out in a dirty apron and a wooden spoon with cookie dough on it, then the calm expression on her face morphing to extreme panic. She also ‘grounded’ Grandpa, but not before giving him an earful about responsibility and how not to let children play with dangerous chemicals.
He was banned from his red room for the next 4 weeks; so he taught me to ride a horse instead… and that is its own can of worms. Let's just say that mom freaks whenever I’m close to a horse.
“I had so much fun, though, I was so annoyed that they weren’t listening to me.”
“Yeah, well, they were just looking out for you. You can’t blame them for doting on you, you’re the only girl, after all.” Papa E gives me a gentle smile as I all but forget my previous anger.
“That’s true.” A comfortable silence fills the space as we sit side by side, then I hear the faint sounds of the horses neighing, “... Can I go ride a horse?”
“What?!” Grandpa snaps his head to me so quickly, I thought he gave himself whiplash for a second, I can’t stop the snort from the look on his face, “And give your mother another conniption, no, thank you. I plan to live the rest of my days as stress-free as I possibly can.”
“Ah, come on!” I smile widely at him as he gets up, disgruntled, and making his way to my door, “~It’ll be fun~.”
“No.” He points a finger at me sternly, but I still smile at him, mischief dancing in my eyes, “I mean it, Alex. Give your mother a break.”
Losing my smile, I nod my head, picking up my book, “Fine, I’ll just do some more ‘light reading’ then.”
“What about unpacking?”
“I’ll do it later.”
Laying down, I hold up my book, feeling bored and less enthused about the move. I’m not even reading what’s on the page, just aimlessly flipping through, wondering how in the hell am I going to make living here worth it.
I could get a job to help mom out, but Mike said there wasn’t anything legal around. How does Papa E pay the bills? He’s been retired for ages, but he owns a good bit of land, he has to have some way to keep the lights on, and feed not only himself but the horses also… He does have all that weed in the back…
“Maybe there’s a kitchen hiring?... Nah, that’s not happening, I don’t even like washing my own dishes. Damn, this growing up stuff is hard.” I huff out, slamming my book down on my lap. Turning on my side, I stare at my ‘Return of the Jedi’ poster, “What would Yoda do?... Okay, well, I’m not living in the swamp, so that’s out. Can’t join the ‘Living Force’ either… I could do a Princess Leia and kill my pimp, haha! Yeah, that sounds like a great time… Nanook’s my Chewbacca.--”
“--Knock, knock.” Sitting up on my elbows, I’m greeted with my mom’s serene face, peeking in through my doorway, “Hey Pumpkin, I saw your door was open.”
“It seems that everyone forgets to close it once they leave.” I roll my eyes, but motion for her to enter. I don’t miss her ‘subtly’ looking around my room– one Return of the Jedi poster, a stack of boxes in the corner, a few clothes hanging in the closet, a suitcase open and messy, a half filled bookshelf, a pair of boots, flip-flops, and 4 pairs of sneakers thrown about the room, “At least I started… and made my bed. Did the boys even make their beds?”
Mom playfully rolls her eyes at me, sitting on my bed with a bounce, “No they didn’t, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then, pray tell, O’ dear mother of mine: Why hast thou entered mine sacred domain?” Mom lets out a small laugh at the way I dramatically lower my voice, answering in a high-pitched one in return.
“I have come to inquire, if thou– O’ Great One, wishes to be in attendance with thine brothers and I for a trip to the boardwalk?”
“Eh, sounds crowded.” Grinning at mom, I give her a light shrug.
“They have games.” She presses.
“Sounds loud.” I deflate slightly, losing my smile.
“Food?” She offers.
“Sounds like a stomach ache.” I grimace.
“... Boys?” She’s grasping at straws.
“Boys you say?” I’m intrigued, “Tell me more.”
“Oh you.” She hits my leg, and I laugh at her growing smile. Shaking her head, she continues, “I’m going to be looking for work, but I figured it would be a good time for you and the boys to go out and have some fun… So, would you like to come with us?”
“... Sure, someone needs to watch those two.”
“Thank you, but I just want you all to have fun, make some friends.”
“Mom… Me? Make friends? I haven’t ‘made’ friends since I was 10 years old. Besides, friends are so overrated.”
“Oh, pooh.” She swings the pillow at me, hitting the top of my head. Smiling, I dramatically fall back on the bed, “Come on, get ready, your majesty.”
“But I am ready.” I look down at my very wrinkled Queen t-shirt.
“Alex. You really what to wear those clothes?” She wrinkles her nose at my day-old clothes, then starts rummaging through my suitcase, “What about this? You’ll look so cute!”
“Mom, I hate pink… Plus, I think that’s yours.” We both tilt our heads to the side, looking at the blouse.
“Oh! This is mine. How’d it end up in your clothes?”
“I dunno.” Getting up, I pull out a cropped black and purple striped bowling shirt, “How ‘bout this, with the acid washed jeans, and… hmm… these paint splattered converse?”
“Very nice… Wait, isn’t that your father’s shirt?”
Chuckling, I look at the cut shirt with pride, “Yeah, but after it met my scissors in an unfortunate accident it became mine.”
“Oh, Alex!” Mom gives me a disapproving stare, before she smiles, “It looks better on you anyway.”
“Duh, everything does.” Tossing the shirt on the bed, I search for my towel, “Thought we’ve been over this before, mom?”
“Silly me, I must’ve forgotten.” Leaning against my door frame, she keeps her smile pointing at my leather jacket, “Remember to bring a jacket, it gets a little chilly here at night.”
“It’s like we never left Arizona.” Mom chortles at my joke, as I press a kiss to her cheek. Making my way to the boys' bathroom, I add, “I’ll be ready in 15.”
………
“So you think mom will be able to find a job in this hellhole?” I spare Michael a glance, waiting for his answer as we work our way through the crowd on the boardwalk. Part of me wishes I just stayed with mom while she did her job hunting, but I know she’d shoo me away to ‘go have fun’ and to ‘be young and happy’.
God bless that woman.
“Dunno, maybe. I hope so.” He tugs his jacket tightly around himself, as we brush past people, who are trying to get a good spot on the beach. He watches our surroundings like a hawk tugging Sam out of the way every now and again as people aimlessly walk around, probably trying to pickpockets as they bump shoulders with everyone, “If not, we need to get jobs.”
“Yeah, we know how much you guys hate working.” Sammy gives us a playful sneer, and I shove him lightly ruffling his hair in the process, “Hey! Watch it, Alex!”
“You’re such a drama queen, Sammy.” I chuckle, rolling my eyes at our younger brother.
“Am not!” Sam tries to punch my arm, but I take a big step forward, making him punch Mike instead. He gives Michael a sheepish look before running ahead of us, tugging on one of my braids in the process.
“Whatever.” I glare at Sam as he sticks his tongue out at me, while I lightly hit Mike’s chest and point to the different stands on the boardwalk, “I’m gonna go check those out.”
“What about the concert?” Sam’s face is full of childlike concern, as he looks a bit disappointed that I’m “ditching” them, “I promise not to tug on your braids again.”
“Yeah, you better, but I’ll be a few minutes, alright?” I look at the growing crowd making its way to the beach, slightly grimacing, “‘Sides, you know how I feel about crowds. If anything, I’ll be up here, and I’ll be able to see you guys just fine.”
“Alright, just be careful. Come find us if anything weird happens.” I smile at Mike’s words with amusement as he looks down at me, face completely serious, “I mean it, Alex.”
“Yeah, remember, we’re living in ‘The Murder Capital of the World’ now.” Sam smirks at me with raised brows as I playfully roll my eyes at him, turning to walk away.
“Alex.” I groan at the ‘mother hen’ tone Mike gives me, making me stop to turn and look at him, unamused.
“Okay mom.” I sass turning on my heel making my way to the stalls.
I take my time perusing the jewelry, clothes racks, and knickknacks spread across the different tables and stalls. One piece of jewelry catches my eye, when I hear someone let out a whimper, looking to my right I see a boy just got his septum pierced and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Smirking, I walk over to the very open and not up to code piercing stall and watch as the boy admires his new bling.
“That’s a rip-off, you know.” A voice says in my ear, making me move away from the sudden voice with annoyance heavy in my features. I’m met with a grinning boy with hazel eyes, with blonde curly hair, in the most… interesting jacket I’ve ever seen— in fact his whole choice of wardrobe is interesting, definitely bold, that’s for sure.
His grin never leaves, but he ends up putting his gloved thumb in his mouth as he waits for me to say something, giving him another once over I tone down my attitude giving him a nod.
“No, duh. If I wanted an infection, I wouldn’t pay $30 to some guy on the boardwalk; not when I can do that at home for free.” Looking back at the piercing stand, I shake my head in disappointment as three girls get ready to get holes placed in their lobes, “Nah, if I want to get more piercings Imma just go to a tattoo shop.” I let out a light huff, flicking my braids over my shoulder, flashing my various piercings. The boy's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as I send him a smirk. Turning on my heel, I continue to walk around the stalls, smiling at the sound of heavy footfalls chasing after me. Raising a brow, I send a quick glance over my shoulder as the boy crowds into my space once he catches up with me, “Personal space is a new concept for you, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t answer, just smiles widely, moving closer into my space before backing off. His eyes never leave mine during that entire interaction and under normal circumstances I would’ve freaked out, but something about this seems… far from normal, that and I was feeling adventurous. Not really the best feeling to have in the ‘Murder Capital of the World’, but I’m sure it’s fine.
“You’re new here.” It wasn't a question.
“Uh, yeah. How’d you know?” I squint at him, leaning away from him, making him chuckle at the look on my face. By now, the concert is in full swing and the fourth song plays over the speakers, making it more difficult to even hear yourself think, let alone someone else talking.
“Haven’t seen you before.” He shrugs his shoulders, moving closer to me again, causing me to continue to try to have some kind of distance between us. Just because I can’t hear him, doesn’t mean he needs to walk closer, he could just raise his voice.
“And you’ve seen everyone in Santa Carla?” I raise a brow at him as he slowly pushes us to the darker and more secluded parts of the boardwalk. Spinning on my heel, I turn back around, walking to where we just came from.
“Where ya goin’?” He catches up to me quickly, walking behind me. I stop abruptly, making him collide into my back; I have no idea how fast he was walking to catch up to me, but I wasn’t expecting to lose my balance and fall forward from it. Thankfully, he has quick reflexes and grabs my waist, halting my fall, “You alright, girl?”
“Peachy, boy.” My face is stern as I glare up at him, but that damn grin is still on his face– like he just hit the jackpot. Like this I can appreciate his features more; his smooth skin, the chisel of his jaw, the hook of his Romanesque nose, his big doe eyes— that at first glance seem innocent, but upon further inspection show mischief and danger. As the music continues to blast over the speaker, he begins swaying us to the music. He may not be the tallest or strongest looking guy ever, but that doesn’t mean anything; I can feel the strength behind his hands that seem to hold me closer to him, making me feel… the rest of him.
“Maybe I’m imagining that.” Turning to look up at him, my eyes jump from his lips to his eyes; before I look up at him through my dark lashes, “Or maybe not…”
Placing my hands over his gloved ones, I intertwine them, pulling them off of me and walk out of his grasp. He rolls his eyes at me as I flash him a wide smile, walking back to the stalls.
“I need to buy something.” I jog over to the table searching for the piece I saw earlier and let out a triumphant laugh as I pick up a small gold skull charm, “Sweet.”
The boy comes behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, blinking at the charm with a furrowed brow. I hate to admit it, but he’s getting cuter by the minute, and it’s getting hard to think clearly with all this touchy-feely couple shit.
“You like skulls?” He takes the charm out of my hands, looking at it closely before looking back at me.
“Yeah, I like a lot of things, skulls is just one of them. You don’t know me, so I don’t know why you’re surprised.” Chuckling, I take the charm back, giving it to the vendor who bags it, but not before she shifts her gaze between the boy and me. I give her a questioning glance, but she busies herself with the other things on her table, ignoring us completely, “Weird.”
“So, what’s something a girl like you likes?” His voice pulls back my attention as he reaches a hand out to play with one of my braids. Quickly, I pull my head back and holding his wrist in a tight grip.
“A girl like me?” All friendliness is gone from my demeanor as I give him a warning glare, “Don’t touch my hair… unless you want me touching yours.”
All he does is smirk, and hold his hands up in mock surrender, but something in his eyes tells me he understands not wanting to have a random person touch your hair.
Continuing my perusing, I’m accompanied by my ‘golden noodle haired shadow’ who seems to have a reputation of sorts here, as people move out of our way, with the most apprehensive faces I’ve ever seen.
“So are you gonna keep following me or don’t have someone else you can bother?” I muse, sending the boy a glance over my shoulder. He keeps his eyes on me like a man on a mission, grinning as he does.
“Why? You tryin’ to get rid of me?” His smile grows at the playful eye roll I give him. Shrugging my shoulders, and slowing down my pace, so we walk next to each other, I link my arm with his. I don’t know why I did it, I just did, and he seemed to tense for a moment before relaxing as we walked at a leisurely pace.
“You know, I could get rid of you, but I figure why not get a tour from someone who seems to know this place like the back of their hand? Plus, I get the feeling you know where all the cool jewelry is.” Giving him a grin of my own, he nods his head in excitement, tugging me to all the small shops lining the boardwalk.
By the time we reach the last shop, I have four bags holding my precious treasures; the great majority of the pieces I bought are going to be made into necklaces, bracelets, and/or earrings– it’s a bonding activity my mom started with me when I was 8. It helps relax us and take our minds off of the stress in our lives, unfortunately during my parent's divorce, we haven’t been able to make or mend any pieces for the past 2 years.
My smile is bright and cheery as we make our way to the railing on the boardwalk, overlooking the sea of people headbanging and dancing to a very oiled up man playing a saxophone. I can’t stop the face that I make, taking in the man’s appearance, with wide eyes I glance at the boy who just laughs leaning against the railing.
“I mean, whatever floats his boat, I guess… He’s got the body for it.” Tilting my head, I trail my eyes over the performer's body, admiring the chains adorning his neck and waist, “Just wasn’t expecting the hip thrusts though.”
We share a laugh as I look over the sea of people, to find my brothers. Sucking my teeth, I turn around, scanning the ever-growing crowd. Furrowing my brows, I take a few steps forward until I’m stopped by a hand on my wrist, looking behind me, I raise my brow at the boy.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were tryin’ to ditch me.”
“Who me?” I feign ignorance as the boy squints his eyes at me, chuckling I shake my head at him, “Dude, I can’t ‘ditch’ you when I don’t even know you.”
“Marko.” Not breaking eye contact, he gently tugs me back to him.
“Really?” I scrunch my face, looking him up and down, “You don’t strike me as a ‘Marko’.”
“What do I strike you as?” There are goosebumps on my arms, as he rubs the top of my knuckles with his thumb. He begins leaning his head down towards me, but I pull back, looking up at him with a coy smile.
“I don’t know, but it sure wasn’t Marko.” The sounds of the boardwalk seem to melt into white noise as we simply stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. My eyes track his, and almost like magic I’m being pulled into those hazel pools– Oh man, if my brothers could see me now.
“Oh shit, I need to find them!” Blinking quickly, I take my hand back shaking off the haze I was in, “Well that was weird…”
Marko pouts slightly, but doesn’t make any more moves, much to my disappointment. Sighing, I rock on my heels awkwardly looking around, “Alright, well it’s been real, and it’s been fun, but I gotta go. So… bye…?”
Marko gives me a smirk as he watches me shift around, “So you are tryin’ to ditch me.”
“Well, I’m not, not trying to ditch you.” Scratching the back of my neck, “But I need to find my brothers, which means we then need to find our mom, so unless you want to meet her this is where we part ways, I’m afraid.” My tone is light and teasing as we start walking through the crowd aimlessly.
“If I meet yours, you met mine.” Marko lightly bumps his shoulder with mine, causing me to laugh at the action, “You’ll have more fun too.”
“Oh?” My questioning glance is meet with a proud smile.
“Mhmm, guaranteed F-U-N.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders, laying his chin on top of my head.
“Oooo he can spell!” Placing my hand on my chest in faux shock, I’m given a scoff and light shove.
“Shut up.” Marko rolls his eyes, but is smiling as he looks at everyone but me; it’s like he’s shy, but he doesn’t seem like the type.
“Well, maybe I can meet them next time.” Shrugging my shoulders, I stop walking, looking around the crowd for my brothers; then I spot Sam’s weird coat thing, “He wears the weirdest shit.”
My eyes shift to Marko, as I pause for a moment, “And Sammy isn’t the only one.”
“What’s so funny?” He squints his eyes at me, making me shrug and look away from him. He didn’t seem to like that, and grasps my shoulder, turning me to face him. Putting my hands up, I give him my best poker face.
“Nothin’.” I try to hide my growing smile from Marko by looking back into the crowd again. Sam looks so lost as he spins in circles, possibly looking for Mike. “Look, I gotta go, but maybe I’ll see you around?”
“I’m here every night.” He’s thrown out his line.
“That so?” And I’m the dumb fish swimming to the bait.
“It is. Maybe next time I can show you the sights.” Oh yeah, I’m a dumb fish.
“I thought I already saw the sights?” I trail my eyes over his form slowly and deliberately, when I lock eyes with him, his expression lets me know that he understood my hidden meaning.
I may have taken the bait, but he wasn’t expecting a catch this weighty.
Taking a few choice steps towards me, he stops when his chest touches mine. Tilting his head, he looks down at me with hooded eyes, “You liked ‘the sights’?”
“Oh sure! Why do you think I’ll be back tomorrow night?” I raise my chin up to him, giving him a sly smile, “How many brothers did you say you have?”
“Three.”
“Awesome, hopefully I can see three more sights.” I pause for a moment looking over Marko’s face with concern, “Just out of curiosity, how old are you– like, you are over 18… right?”
“You have no idea.” His words were mumbled, but I heard them clearly as I give him an unsure smile.
“What was that?”
He smirks at my questioning gaze, “I’m 19.”
“Oh sweet!... And your brother’s…?”
He sighs, raising his eyes to glance at the sky, like this was the dumbest line of questioning he’s ever been through, “I’m the youngest, so everyone else is as old as shit.”
“HA! My brothers feel the same about me. Speaking of my brothers, I really need to go find them. Til we meet again, Young Marko.” Grabbing his hand, I kiss the top of his gloved knuckles, giggling at his wide-eyed face, “See ya on the flip side, dude.”
With a skip in my step, I creep up behind Sammy, slamming my hands on his shoulders– scaring the poor kid– smiling gleefully at him.
“Alex!” He places his hand on his chest as he takes a deep breath, “Oh geez, you scared me. I thought you were someone else.”
“My bad, bro. You headed somewhere?” I give him some space before we walk side by side.
“Yeah, I found a comic shop! I figured you’d want to come.”
“Hell yeah, dude. Let’s go– wait, where’s Mikey?” I look around the crowd, trying to find Michael’s jacket.
“He’s following some girl.” Sam rolls his eyes, making his way through the crowd, while I’m stuck in place gapping like a fish. Once his words sink in completely, I run after him.
“What do you mean, ‘he’s following some girl’? Why is he doing that? Did he forget where we moved to?! Why am I related to an idiot?” Sam laughs at my words, giving me a look I’ve seen too many times to count, “I know I’m adopted, damn, you don’t have to keep reminding me.”
Wrapping his arms around, Sam rests his chin on my shoulder, “Adopted or not, you’re still my older, sassy, cool, and annoying sister, and I love you no matter what.”
“Alright, alright, let me go. People are starting to stare.” I glance around the crowd, feeling out of place and self-conscious about Sammy’s display of affection. Just because we were raised together, doesn’t mean everyone else knows that– it wouldn’t be much of a problem if we were the same race, but one look at us, and you know we aren’t ‘brother and sister’. Sure, Sammy and Mike don’t look alike, but both take after their parents… and I take after mine. Growing up was very interesting, but I wouldn’t trade my doofus brothers for the world.
Let’s just say, I add more… color to their lives.
“Let them. I’m hugging my sister, a few stares from random assholes isn’t going to change that.”
And they add color to mine.
I snap my head, staring at him with wide eyes, “Ooooo you cursed. I’m telling mom.”
“What?! You curse all the time!” He lets me go, glowering at me.
“Yeah, but I’m an adult, I can.” Flicking his forehead, I hand him two of my bags, “I won’t tell mom if you carry these two bags.”
“... You’re a slave driver, you know that, Alex?” He grumbles, but takes the bags.
“Consider it penance for my people.” I lightly shove him forward, as he stares at me with his mouth hanging open, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”
“What’re in these bags, bricks?” Sam opens one of the bags, peering inside with furrowed brows, “Why is it so heavy? It’s just jewelry?”
“It’s not that heavy, Sam. I only got a few pieces.” Rolling my eyes at his whining, I start feeling the weight of my own two bags… and they are kinda weighty. Stopping at a picnic table, we place the bags down looking at the contents, “Okay, so I bought a bunch of little skulls, feather charms, an assortment of beads, a few chains, and patches– wait, patches?”
I pull out three stacks of random patches ranging from hellfire and skulls, to crude innuendos.
“You also got stickers– ooooo, you better not let mom see these.” Sam holds up a sticker with a topless lady sticking her forked tongue out. Snatching the sticker from him, I quickly put it back in the bag. He looks at me, unimpressed, and the way he crosses his arms, makes him look just like mom.
“I didn’t buy these!” Gazing in another bag, I see that it has rings, bracelets, and a few earrings. Saying that I’m feeling confused is an understatement, “I don’t understand, I don’t remember…” I feel Sam’s eyes on me as I try hard to remember if I did actually pay for any of this shit. Then it hits me, “That little bastard.”
“Who?”
“Nothin’, c’mon, I’ll deal with this later.” Gathering my bags, we continue our trek to the comic shop. Once we reach, we smile at each other like the nerdy little idiots we are and go our separate ways– Sam goes right to Superman, and I go to X-Men.
All my attention is placed on finding a new comic to add to my collection, but as I pick up comic after comic, my enthusiasm is slowly fading at the inconsistency of the comic placements. It’s like they were haphazardly placed, or just put down next to the comic that “looked” like it belonged to. Scoffing, I toss the comics back, annoyed that whoever did this, literally had one job, and they couldn’t do it. Turning around, I scan for Sam, wondering if he’s having the same problem I am; with wide eyes, I see that he has a whole different problem.
Two boys, around his height and age, are basically accosting him, as he probably tells them, he isn’t looking for trouble. Gritting my teeth, I make my way over to them, ready to fight these two little bastards if I have to– and seeing this is the ‘Murder Capital of the World’, I just might have to.
“What’s going on here?” Crossing my arms, I stare down the two boys, who jump at the sound of my voice. They move closer to each other, glancing between each other and my brother. The one with brown hair squints his eyes at me, sizing me up, before speaking– in the MOST ridiculous voice– taking a step towards me.
“This is a private conversation, it doesn’t concern you.”
“Oh, I think it does.” I hate when I speak like this because I sound like such a mother, but sometimes that’s the only way to make children listen to you– and listen, they did. Both boys blink in mild fear and confusion as Sam sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. And that’s when I catch a glimpse of the comic in Sammy’s hands, “Oh, hell no. No way, no how.”
Holding my hand out, he places the comic down, giving the boys an ‘I told you so’ face, “I told them I don’t do horror comics.”
“And they still pushed this on you?” I’m annoyed– you can hear it clear as day– jutting out my hip, I place the comic down on top of the Superman comics, “Let’s learn a life lesson, shall we boys? When someone says ‘no’, don’t go and pester them, or push them into doing something they don’t want, or like. If you’re not careful, you might wind up in the pokey. Thankfully you two are young and can learn from this mistake,” Stepping forward, I jab them both in the chest, giving them a warning, “Don’t make it again.”
A few seconds of silence go by as the two glance at each other, nodding back at me. Smiling oh so sweetly, I beckon for Sam to follow outside.
“Okay, but I still haven’t gotten a comic I want yet.”
“Ugh, Sam.” Turning around, I tilt my head at him, as he pouts at me. Rolling my eyes, I hang my head, defeated, “Alright, get your effing comic, but be quick about it.”
As I turned away from the trio, I couldn’t help but hear the sounds of harsh whispering that sounded along the lines of ‘who is that’, ‘are you in danger’, and ‘she’s scary’. All of which brought a smile to my face, because let’s face it, when an Afro-Latin American woman tells you off, it’s scary as hell.
They are so lucky I can’t speak Spanish, I would’ve cursed them up and down until the coqui’s came home. Glancing at them from over my shoulder, I see that Sam does seem to be searching for a comic, but those boys are still trying to push the horror comic on him again. Growling, I get ready to tell them off, when I see movement out of the corner of my eye; turning to see what it is, it’s a group of people guffawing loudly, almost like they were intoxicated. Furrowing my brows, I watch as they laugh and sneer at… me, I guess… but they’re also eyeing the comics in the cart next to them.
“Uhm, do you know who works here?” I keep my eyes on the group of people, while speaking to the boys over my shoulder.
“Us. Why?” A part of me wants to keep quiet about what’s about to happen due to the amount of suspicion coming from ‘Baby Rambo’, but swallowing my pride, I point at the group.
“I think they’re–” I jump at the yell that came from the seemingly quiet, dark haired boy.
“--HEY, WAIT!” He takes off at the group with Baby Rambo in tow, “COME BACK, YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR THOSE!”
Puffing out my cheeks, I turn to Sam, who’s just as lost as I am. Not knowing what else to do, I point to the exit, “Wanna go home now?”
“Yes, please.” His voice is heavy as he shakes his head at what we just witnessed. I ruffle his hair, making him swat at me again, laughing I put my hands up in surrender, successfully lightning the mood.
“So where do you think Michael is?” My mind is going through a bunch of different scenarios as to what could’ve happened to Michael following a random girl on the boardwalk.
“Not sure, but if we see a girl running for her life, I think that means we found him.” We share a laugh, wiping our imaginary tears. Catching my breath, I pause for a moment, seeing a blur of blonde move through the crowd. Trying to see through the crowd, I lose sight of the blonde hair, frowning, I look back at Sam, but he’s not next to me anymore. Fear lurches in my chest as I look around for my baby brother, but instant relief washes over me when I spot him AND Michael. Breathing out a sigh, I walk over to them, hands in my pockets, “There you are, c’mon let’s go.”
Walking ahead of them, I hear Sammy chuckle, “She stiffed ya man, let’s go.”
At this I freeze, look over my shoulder with a face Sam describes as “The Joker”; basically, my eyes get wide with glee, and my smile is board line insane– according to Sam, but this is the same kid who thinks monsters live in his closet still. I’ll admit, it isn’t the most innocent of smiles, and it can be a bit creepy, but I just hit the ‘blackmail jackpot’! Who wouldn’t have an insane smile on their face, when they find the reason their brother’s being a total creep; I mean, just wait until mom hears about this!
Not moving from my spot, I reign in “The Joker” smile, glancing between Michael and the girl. She’s cute, with big brown doe eyes, even bigger brown curly hair, and she has a sweet kind of smile on her face, almost flirtatious, as she looks Mike up and down; but her smile fades away when she sees me. Raising a brow at her, I give her a smile of my own, sizing her up– unfortunately, the rest of her is blocked by a dude in all black.
Moving my attention to him, I can’t stop but smirk at the white hair he has; he gives me a once over, seemingly annoyed by my presence. At that moment Sam moves to my side, whispering something to me in my ear, but I wasn’t paying attention– he was giggling too much, and White Hair was staring at me hard. I’m not one to back down from a challenge, so I stared back just as fiercely. He shifts his gaze between Sam and I, and I guess something clicked, because the hardness in his eyes softens, and he smiles at me.
My own gaze softens as well, but instead of smiling, I squint at him, because that was a random 180, and nothing good comes from those. The sound of revving engines gets my attention, and I realize that there are more people with this duo. A brooding brunette with a child sitting on the back of his bike, who seems to be yelling at the person next to them, but that person isn’t paying any attention to the small boy; the reason being because they’re staring at me.
I’m greeted with an all too familiar grin, and mischievous hazel eyes; my eyes widen slightly at the sight of Marko, and that’s when I look over the group again. Locking eyes with Marko again, his smile confirms my unspoken thought.
These are his brothers.
He gives me a small nod, switching his gaze between Sam and Michael, I give him a lopsided grin, and a mild head bob, making him chuckle as he turns his gaze to the other blonde next to him– and this guy is… Woooo, I don’t think words can describe him. He has wild blonde hair, a black jacket, black mesh top, THE dirtiest white pants known to man, and seems to be headbanging like there’s no tomorrow.
… Huh, I described him… Sweet.
Shaking my head, I look back at Michael who is still staring at this girl like a love struck fool, and I don’t stop my eye roll. I’m never going to let him live this down– EVER! Looking down at my sneakers, I walk over to stand next to Michael, place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it harshly. His tenses up, wincing as he finally acknowledges my existence… Well, the look on his face says that he had no idea I was there in the first place, so I give him the same look, only mockingly.
“What? Did you forget about me?” I send little glances to the girl, as she watches us with curious eyes, “That cuts deep, dude.” Michael gives the girl a sheepish, and embarrassed look as he brushes my hand off of him, and being the older sister I am, I’m going to take it a step further, “Wow, you don’t want me to touch you? That’s a first. Guess that means I won’t be sleeping in your room tonight then, huh?”
He snaps his head at me, cheeks turning red, with pleading eyes– to be fair, the last time Michael and I slept in the same room was when I was 10, and we shared a bunk bed, but these guys don’t need to know that.
So with a triumphant smirk, we watch as White Hair, snickers at Michael, and speeds off of the boardwalk with his gang in tow. Poor Michael, stands there, watching with a crestfallen face as the bikes disappear from our sights. Leaning on my hip, I sigh, watching with him for a few seconds before looking up at him.
“You know they aren’t coming back, just because you look so pathetic.”
“Shut up, Alex.” He sneers at me, bringing a smile to my face as Sam and I watch him stomp off. I nudge Sam, wiggling my eyebrows at him, “Watch this.” Sam looks at me expectantly, as I clear my throat, smiling, “~They’ll be back tomorrow night~!”
Mike stops in his tracks, looking at me over his shoulder with untrusting eyes. Sam laughs that the sudden interest Mike has now, and I smile as Mike’s face morphs into hope. He rushes back over to us, tightly holding my arms, he begins to shake me back and forth.
“Wait, they are?! How do you know?! Do you know her?! Did you talk to her?! What’s she–”
“Whoa, WHOA! Slow down, Lover Boy! Let’s just say I have a reliable resource.” I shake Mike off of me, smoothing out my jacket.
“Who?”
“Who?”
I frown at my brothers as they ask the same question almost in sync, “‘Who?’ What’re you guys? Owls?” Shaking my head, I walk ahead of them towards the exit, “Never mind who; c’mon let’s go find mom.”
Finding mom proved to be easier than we originally thought, because she was already waiting for us in the parking lot, as we neared the car, Sam started to tease Mike about how he struck out with Big Brown Doe Eyes. Mike retaliated by flicking Sam’s forehead and getting into the front seat before him. Sam whines about it, until I whisper in his ear.
“Let him have this, we have blackmail on our side.”
Sam’s face looks like it’s about to split in two from his smile, we side into the backseat, and mom looks at us with her sweet smile that crinkles around her eyes when something wonderful happens.
“I see smiles, did you all have fun?” Her voice is way more chipper than it’s been since we arrived in Santa Carla.
“Yeah, something like that.” I glance at the back of Mike’s head, as he glares at us from the rearview mirror. Looking back at mom, I incline my head to her, “But it seems like you’ve had a pretty good night too.”
“Oh! You’ll never believe it!” She gushes as she looks at each of us, we all have a pretty good idea as to why she’s happy, but we wait for her to share. Smiling even more brightly, she confirms our thoughts, “I got a job!”
“Yay! Congrats mom, that’s great.” Leaning over, I give her a hug and kiss her cheek.
“Does this mean we can get a TV now?” We all ignore Sam’s question, as we give mom her spotlight.
“Oh, thank you, sweetie. I wasn’t sure if I’d find a job, but I did.” Her smile is still going strong, and has me wondering if something more happened.
“She’s just really happy about getting a job.”
Pulling out of the parking lot, she turns the spotlight on us at the sound of Sam complaining about my ‘heavy bags crushing his feet’.
“So, Alex, did you have a good time?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Giving her a light shrug, I hold up my four bags, “I got some jewelry for us to work on, but since you’ll be working I don’t know how much we’ll be able to do…”
“We’ll find time. I promise.” I match her smile as she gazes at me through the mirror; but there’s something bugging me– something about her smile that rubs me the wrong way. It’s so happy, and genuine– it’s one I haven’t seen in about 3 years– I don’t want to ask her if she ‘meet someone’ while job hunting, but the nosy part of me reaaaalllly wants to know.
“... No. Now’s not the time.” I glance at Sam and Mike, knowing that if mom really did find that ‘someone’ they aren’t going to be thrilled– hell! I’m not thrilled… but I should be, it’s just hard. Sighing, I lean against the door frame, watching the city lights blur by; the sound of bike engines has me looking around out of Sam’s window and my own I hunt for the bikers, and I’m not alone, Mike is doing the same thing, which gains mom’s attention.
“What? What’s going on?” She begins to panic a bit, as she looks at the dimly lit road, and then at us.
Mike and I share a look of mile disappointment, but reassuringly smile at her nonetheless, “Nothin’ mom, just need to watch out for bikers is all.”
“Oh, I thought I was about to hit something.” She breathes out a sigh, rolling her eyes the way only a mother can, as we continue home.
My mind is still occupied with mom’s smile and this new job, and sucking on my teeth I lean forward glancing up at her.
“She’s still smiling.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I clear my throat, “So, mom.”
“Hm?”
“This new job– what is it?” I try to keep my voice as light and as innocent as I can, but it’s kinda hard when her smile widens again.
“It’s at a video store–”
“So we are getting a TV?!” Sam leans against me, pushing my face into the back of mom’s seat. Growling, I elbow him in the gut, making him sit back wincing, “OW!”
“Back off!” My voice is low, as I glare it him, making him gulp and scoot away from me.
“-- Well, no, not quite. Televisions cost money, and I only just got my job. But if you want one so badly, you can always save up and buy one.” Mom’s genuine smile shifts into a playful one as she watches Sam’s hopefully continuance morph into one of confusion.
“But… I don’t have any money. I used up the rest of my allowance to get toys for Nanook, and we won’t get any ‘til you give it to us.” Sam is out of sorts as he goes huffs out a sigh, crosses his arms, glaring at the floor. Mom just laughs as she pulls off the highway towards the smaller streets.
“So it’s a video store, sounds fun.” I give mom a smile, bringing her back on topic, and that ‘oh so happy’ smile is back, “Which store?”
“VideoMax.” She’s beaming.
“Uh-huh– met anyone?” Calm down, Alex, again, she could just be excited about the job.
Letting out a chuckle, I shake my head, “I like how I asked ‘which store’ like I know where anything is here. God, I’m an idiot.”
“At least you finally admitted it.” Mike chimes from the front, smiling mockingly at me, to which I respond with a smack to the back of his head, “Wha– HEY!”
“That’s for thinking you were being cute.” I glare at him as mom chides the both of us, “He started it.”
“Did not!”
“Did too.”
“Guys, please! We’re almost home– look, we all just had a nice night out, let’s not ruin it with petty arguments.” Mom looks at the both of us pleadingly, waiting for our answers; rolling our eyes, we give each other stony smiles ‘apologizing’ and looking out our respective windows.
Michael and I haven’t always been like this, but I can’t figure out why he’s turned into a dick around me, but if he doesn’t change his tune, he’s going to get punched in the face. For now, I’m just going to chalk it up to the move making things different and stressful. We still love each other– we both know that, and mom knows it. Unfortunately, she also knows we don’t mean our apologies, but she’s not going to push us since we’ve appeased her. Sighing, she continues to talk about ‘VideoMax’ and her boss, but I tune her out, glancing up at the moon, the cloudy night, and the few stars that can be seen, and the body falling out of the sky–...
.
.
.
Looking back over the ocean, I frantically look for any signs of a body hitting the water, but I never see any. Blinking in confusion, I try to focus on the water again, but I still don’t see anything– it’s too dark, and we’re too far away.
“I need to get a grip, how would a body fall OUT of the sky? There aren’t any planes.” For good measure I look up searching for airplane lights, and there aren’t any. Gulping, I shake the forbidding feeling that moves up my back, settling on my neck. Rubbing my neck, I can’t help but wince at the feeling of hands squeezing my shoulders; shivering, I zip up my jacket, looking up at the sky again, “It was all in your head. Relax, Alex.”
“Yeah, relax.”
It almost feels like someone whispered deep in my ear– which would really be in my head, but it wasn’t my voice, it was foreign, and it sounded like a guy. I glance at Sam, but he’s in his own little corner of the car, probably still thinking about his TV problem, while Mike is leaning his back on the seat, eyes closed.
“Alright, so… it wasn’t either of them.” Looking in the trunk with fear and timid movements, I’m greeted with an empty, dark trunk, “... I’m losing my mind. Awesome.”
I wasn’t able to dwell on my questionable grip on sanity, because mom has already pulled into her parking spot, turns off the car, turning to look at us with that smile again. Not sure if I should feel grateful or not for the car coming to a stop, as we take that as the queue to get out and head inside; I’m the last one out, since no one wanted to help me with my damn bags.
Huffing, I pick up a few pieces that slipped out of one of the bags under the driver's seat. Reaching under mom’s seat, I pull out the last skull charm, placing it in my jacket pocket as I flip my braids out of my face, “I’m gonna beat up that little imp, next time I see him.”
I’m not so annoyed with the fact that he snagged a few things, as I am that he put them IN MY BAGS, and didn’t say anything. If he got caught, we both would’ve gotten in trouble, and I’m not trying to make my mark in Santa Carla a bad one… at least not yet.
Slamming the door closed, I start my little trek to the house, taking a moment to look up at the sky again. Smiling, I close my eyes as a breeze blows by…
“See~...Ya~.... Alex~.”
Opening my eyes quickly, I look around the fairly well lit walkway, but with a frantic expression that would have my brothers in stitches. My heart is pounding in my ears, as I press my lips in a thin, tight line, slightly sucking them in, trying to hold back any potential scream from coming out prematurely.
Not gonna lie, the voice almost sounded like Marko, but there’s no way.
Is there?
Not seeing, or hearing anything, I open my mouth ready to ask the age-old question that gets people killed in every horror movie…
“Nope, not today.” Booking it to the front door, I swing open the door, making Papa E look at me with a scrutinizing gaze. Closing the front door, and locking it, I give him a wide awkward smile as I make my way to my room.
“You alright there, kiddo?”
“Oh, yeah! Totally not hearing things in the wind or anything.” I giggle out nervously as Papa E stares at me for a few seconds with the same expression– it almost seems like he’s trying to figure me out, but then he just blinks, gives me a nod, and takes a swig from his root beer, making his way to his Red Room. I look at him confused, “Uh, okay… Good– good night?”
Shaking my head, I head to my room, tossing the bags on top of my suitcase, laying down with a heavy sigh. Taking out the skull charm, I stare into its black eyes, thinking back on the events of the night. Tonight was definitely one for the books, I did things I wouldn’t have normally done back in Phoenix. Maybe this move was exactly what we all needed, who knows what lies ahead? This is our fresh start, a new chapter in our lives where we don’t have to worry about so asshole making our lives miserable anymore. We have a chance at something great, something wonderful.
“Marko, huh?” Grinning widely, I toss the charm in my suitcase, and get ready for bed.
While I brush my teeth, I pick up my book rereading what I skipped over– which wasn’t much, “Cha’ter 3, ‘Sh-ing, O Muse o’ Hermes, t’e Sh-on of Zeus,’ blah blah blah…” Spitting out the toothpaste, I rinse quickly, making my way back to my room, reading on the way, “‘... Cronion wooed the fair-haired damsel without the ken of the deathless gods or mortal men. Now when the purpose of mighty Zeus was fulfilling…’ Zeus really doesn’t know how to keep it in his tunic.” Making my way to my room downstairs, I slip under the covers, opening my book again, “‘... In that hour she gave birth to a son, subtle of wit and wile, a robber,’ this sounds vaguely familiar, ‘a reiver of cattle, a captain of thieves, a prowler of the night, a pilferer at gates, who was ere long to make known fine doings among the immortal gods.’” Closing my book, I stare at my comforter with a deep crease in my brow, “Is… Is the universe telling me Marko is Hermes?”
Shifting my eyes around my room, I seemingly wait for someone to just pop up and give me the answer, but of course that isn’t going to happen. Of course, Marko isn’t the god Hermes, even if he does seem to be an almost perfect replica of the god.
“Even if he does have similarities to Hermes, he isn’t him at all.” Scoffing at myself, I place my book on my nightstand, turning off my lamp, “‘Sides, it’s not like he can fly.”
Laughing to myself, I close my eyes, falling into a deep and calming sleep.
--------------
Taglist: @jezabella8 @thelostone91
--------------
Really hope you guys liked it❤️🦇❤️🦇❤️🦇❤️🦇
#It All Started With a Smile#Lost boys#the lost boys 1987#marko x oc#paul x oc#david x oc#dwayne x oc#the lost boys x oc#poly lost boys x oc#woc!oc#tlb x woc!oc#fanfiction#chapter 1#the lost boys#tlb 1987#tlb dwayne#vampire babies#emerson oc#sam emerson#michael the lost boys#star and laddie#star#star tlb#the frog brothers#alan frog#edgar frog#the lost boys x woc reader
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
Playing Games
Part XI
Paul Lahote X OC
Synopsis: Elle is heartbroken after Paul reveals he’s a shifter and she thinks he’s lying. Will she hear him out?
Warnings: angst, heartbreak, internal monologue, drinking, not wanting to eat
Word Count: ~800
MASTERLIST
XI
It’s been a week—just one week—and I feel like I’m dying. Maybe every other heartbreak was just what I thought heartbreak would be because this is so much fucking worse. And, honestly? Paul isn’t making it easier. He’s leaving bundles of flowers at my door every day, twice this week he’s texted me asking if we could talk, and now he’s sent Seth to visit me at work. I’d call the police if I were actually angry or scared or anything but truthfully there’s nothing creepy about it. I know, I wouldn’t believe me either, but it’s true.
And now here’s Seth, pretending to look at books. I wouldn’t put actually wanting a new book past Seth, but he’s looking over at me nervously every couple seconds so it’s pretty evident he’s not here for a tantalizing read.
It takes 10 minutes or awkward silence and frequent glances for Seth to come up to the counter empty handed. I remember the first time Paul visited me at work—this isn’t like that. Seth is nervous and shy and seems more like a child needing to ask for help.
“Heeey Elle.” His greeting is drawn out and gentle.
“Welcome to Elder Stories. Can I help you find something?” I keep it matter of fact. No, not matter of fact, more cold. I feel guilty. It’s killing me to be so cold to someone who’s constantly so warm and kind.
“Uhm, no I’m actually here to talk to you. About him. Paul. About Paul.”
“We have a lovely history section if you’re interested in non-fiction.”
“Elle, please. He doesn’t know I’m here and he’s probably hate that I am. I just—I don’t think you guys—“
“You don’t think we what?” I snap, raising an eyebrow. If I show even a single emotion, I will crumble. I know I’ll crumble. And I can’t have that.
Seth is quiet for a minute before he speaks up.
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys.”
“Yeah, Seth. You don’t know. And to say Paul’s hurting? I’m hurting, Seth. I am. He did this, not me.” I turn to shelve something and quickly wipe my eye as I do. My voice was softer. I can’t be soft—there’s not exactly someone else here to cover the counter for me so I can cry in the bathroom.
“I’m sorry. I just thought maybe you’d be willing to talk to him. Just a little. It can be in public or whatever I don’t know. I hate seeing you guys like this.” I keep my back turned. Seth is sweet, he’s soft, and he seems to be the kind of person who never wants anyone to hurt. But people hurt sometimes, trust me. What feels like hours pass and then I hear his footsteps recede and the front door jingle and close.
***
A beer and a pizza but I’m not really hungry. It’s Friday night and I feel absolutely empty. I keep staring at the pizza, tempting myself to eat, but I can’t bring myself to do so. I’m all too entirely vacant at the moment. I take another drink, the label remains in-tact.
Was Seth telling the truth? Did Paul really not know he was there? Were they manipulating me? Is that all I am—some idiot to manipulate and lie to and hurt? But no, Seth wouldn’t partake in that, right? I don’t know.
I don’t know anything.
If I saw anyone else throwing the pity party I’m throwing myself I’d roll my eyes and think they’re dramatic. But now I feel it and now I know and I don’t know who to talk to about it. My dad is out of cell reception right now and it’s hard to know what he’s say—would he want to decimate Paul for hurting me or would he think I should hear him out? What would I prefer him to tell me?
Another beer later, I grab out my phone and let a breath out. Okay, fine, hear him out. I can hear him out. I can do that. Maybe he’s simply delusional. Is this smart or even safe? Who’s to say. But right now it feels right. Difficult, but right.
I press call.
***
Okay, maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I had one too many drinks and I should go home. The leaves rustle behind me and I feel my stomach sinking. This isn’t how leaves rustle when there’s only 2 feet. Swallowing hard, I turn slowly. Carefully. This should be in public, why did I say I’d wait outside my house? I’m an idiot and now I’m going to be murdered by a gaggle of shirtless men. Spun 180° now, I let out a deep breath and open my eyes.
Oh. My. God
#Paul#paul lahote#pack#multipart#wolf pack#wolves#wolf#werewolves#playing games#paul lahote fanfic#paul lahote fluff#paul lahote fanfiction#OC#paul x oc#paul lahote x oc#twilight#twilight fanfiction#twilight fandom#twilight fluff#vampires#original#original character#fanfiction#fan fiction#angst#sad
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter Six:
Skipping Stones
Masterlist
<- Chapter 5 Chapter 7 ->
Trigger Warnings ⚠️:
None?
Filler Chapter ahead
Unedited!!!
‘Bold and italic’ = Hanna’s thoughts
Song: Take me Home Tonight by Eddie Money
(This song is intended to fit this chapter.)
Silence fell over the area as the last headlight from their bikes disappeared into the darkness. The only sound echoing in her ears was the erratic beating of her heart as it nearly leapt out of her chest.
Who were these boys? And better yet, how did the curly haired boy know her name? So many questions danced around her head to the point where it started to make her feel dizzy. Did she also tell them her name without realising it, too?
Not understanding what had just occurred, Hanna covered her face with her hands. Her mind overloading with too much information to take into consideration where she was, or who was standing directly behind her, for that matter, until the person behind her asked her a question that caused her heart to momentarily stop inside her chest.
"- H-Hanna, i-is that really you?"
---
Steamy hot water cascaded down her tense figure as she stood under the steady streams. The house was quiet, save from the water swirling through the pipes and the distant footsteps belonging to Mr Emerson that she could hear downstairs.
'How did it all come to this?' She pondered solemnly, wrapping her arms around her small frame in an attempt to comfort herself. 'Falling into another time period — no — another dimension? How was that even possible? Surely it wasn't. Not even remotely.'
Yet, no matter how hard she tried to piece everything together -- to find some logic behind what had transpired-- here she was. Completely and utterly alone in a strangers house; taking a shower without even thinking twice.
Freezing in her place, Hanna turned off the shower abruptly. No longer wanting to waste her time bathing in a strangers bathroom.
Grabbing a fresh towel from the rack next to the shower, she quickly wrapped her self up and began to dry off; her hands rubbing non-too-gently across her skin, causing red blotches to appear on her arms and legs.
"Make yourself at home why don't you." Hanna whispered to herself harshly. Her voice dripping with hateful sarcasm. Truthfully it wasn't even her idea in the first place. But since the incident outside, she clammed up; refusing to cooperate with the old man downstairs, who, for some reason, seemed to know who she was.
Finishing up, she gripped the shower curtain and slowly pushed it to the side, stepping out onto the shower mat opposite the sink and a small warped glass window. A small paddle-head hairbrush rested on the sinks rim along with a fold of fresh yellow and blue flower print pyjamas — two things she received from the man before he left her to have her shower.
Wasting no time at all, she dressed. Her thoughts circling the same thing over and over again like a broken record, 'How do I go home?'
Picking up the discarded towel, Hanna hastily dried her hair before running the soft bristles of the brush through the damp locks; a whimper falling from her mouth every now and then from the large knots that had managed to accumulate in the shower.
"Oh! for-!" She cut herself off as a shot of pain travelled from her now sore scalp. Her brows furrowed in anger at the uncomfortable sensation and she had to try her hardest not to beak down and cry.
"Hanna, are you alright in there?" A male voice questioned softly from the other side of the door causing Hanna to drop her brush out of fright.
Finding her voice she let out an unsure, "Y-Yes! Yes, I'm fine."
A brief silence met her from beyond the door and she began to wonder if he had heard her or not, that was until he let out a bemused sigh, "I'll be downstairs inside my red room. Come down when you're ready to talk."
Without waiting for an answer, Hanna could hear his footsteps receding back down the hall before descending the stairs. His words weighing heavily on her mind. Was she ready to talk to him? Ever since she arrived her words were nothing short of vacant — full of confusion and built on adrenalin which had dissipated fast the moment she entered Mr. Emerson's house.
Truthfully, all she wanted to do was sleep and pray that when she awakes, she'd be back in the somewhat-dingy-but-tolerable hotel room not far from the ocean front in Santa Cruz — surrounded by her family.
Alas, she doubted things would be so simple.
Sighing heavily, she finished up in the bathroom and gingerly opened the bathroom door. Once again, silence enveloped the house; the only noise being the dull creak resounding from the doors old metal hinges.
Stepping out into the hallway, Hanna began to survey her surroundings, something she was too distracted to do when she first entered the house. Hard wood floors, aged yet weirdly intact wallpaper that had an eerily close resemblance to the colouration and pattern of her night clothes, as well as the countless stuffed animals and antlers littering the walls and cabinet tops.
'Great,' She thought, 'I'm dressed like wallpaper; inside a kooky house; in the middle of nowhere.' Hanna rolled her eyes and let out a silent groan at this unfortunate realisation, her hands picking at her top and the hem of her shorts self consciously.
Moving onwards, the staircase came into view; the wooden banister slightly uneven from being hand carved. With a moment of uncertainty, Hanna reached out and grasped the small wooden sphere sitting atop the start of the steps, the smooth wood caressing her fingertips as she careened her neck to peer down into the front room.
The interior of the living room was vast and open, allowing access throughout the house by the various open entryways; the furniture a few worn out couches and a corner full of old junk that — from what Hanna could only guess — had presumably sat there for decades.
Pulling back, Hanna contemplated whether she really wanted to discuss tonight events with the strange old man. To many it seemed like the best and only palpable thing to do under the circumstances; but she was also aware that things would become real if she spoke — something she wasn't comfortable about coming to terms with.
Seconds stretched into minutes as she stood there, teetering on the edge of the first step contemplating her next move.
With a deep breath she began her descent down the stairs, her heart thrumming nervously inside her chest causing her breath to come out somewhat unevenly.
Stopping in her tracks she surveyed the rest of the room; her eyes focusing on the closed wooden doors at the far side of the living space where movement could be heard.
Concluding this to be the 'red room' the old man had talked about, she made her way over to the doors with slow steps; eyes raking over the different taxidermy and miscellaneous objects scattered hazardously about the place with little to no care.
With three knocks, she waited with bated breath. The sound of a chair scraping across the hardwood floor caused her to momentarily freeze up before taking a step back.
The door opened swiftly, the face of the old man peeking through the gap with an unreadable expression etched onto his aged face as he gazed upon Hanna's unsure figure looming a few feet away from him.
With a tight lipped smile he squeezed through the door, trying his best to obscure the interior of the room from her brown eyes, remembering how much she despised his line of work and how it made her uneasy.
"Let's go get coffee." His voice was light, however Hanna could hear the tightness hiding under the easy-going façade.
Screwing her face up in confusion she looked down at her night clothes then back up to the old man who had already began to shrug on a worn beige corded jacket. "Umm..." She paused, tilting her head to the side with disbelief, "Now? Isn't it a bit late for coffee?"
"It's never too late for coffee," he deadpanned with a small shake of his head, his fingers now fiddling with the front door keys, "Anyways, it just turned ten O'clock."
Swallowing a protest Hanna glanced around to try and find a clock, not entirely convinced that the time was so early. Swerving her body slightly, she soon found the object she was looking for displayed beneath the wooden skirting above the kitchen archway, its hands confirming that it was in fact only ten.
"Get a coat and some shoes on and lets go." He gestured towards the stairs with his head before leaving out into the front yard, the front door snapping shut behind him.
"Ugh..." She blinked slowly, "This is gonna be some night."
---
"Just a vanilla shake," She spoke with a small smile, her fingers playing with the cheap plastic-type leather seating of the booth, "Thanks."
The waitress — a stubby woman in her late fifties with thick rimmed glasses — shot her a knowing look before turning to Mr Emerson, "The usual, Dennis?" The question earning her a small nod and another thanks from the old man, "Coming right up! It'll be out shortly." She smiled at them both before slipping away towards the kitchen; swerving around teenagers as they entered.
"I don't usually come here at night," Mr Emerson started, scrutinising the surprisingly crowded diner, a distasteful look etching its way onto his face as he spotted a group of punks throwing fries at each other across the room, "Not my kinda crowd."
"Then why did we come here?" Hanna enquired, her attention also focusing on the rowdy teens across the diner.
With a dry laugh the old man turned back to her, his aged blue eyes locking onto her young dark brown ones, "I felt it might be best to talk in a more public environment. It can be quite..." He trailed off trying to find the correct words, "—Suffocating at home, especially since this situation is extremely sensitive," He paused with a sigh, "And I saw the way you looked when you came back; confused and uncomfortable. So I thought it would be better to speak here rather than back at the house."
Hanna could only nod in reply, thankful for his decision to bring her here rather than to stay there.
"Besides, the coffee here is so much better than the one back at home." Mr Emerson stated, humour present in his voice as he attempted to ease the tension; an act which earned him a small smile form the young woman across from him.
"So what happened, Hanna? I mean — one moment you're leaving for work and the next you've fallen off of the face of the earth! For a while I was convinced it was an act of rebellion; but I knew that couldn't have been it! You're not the rebellious type!" His words were desperate — voice high with deep confusion.
"I-I don't know what to say." She stuttered, her eyes now staring down at her lap where her fingers were playing with the zipper of her light blue jacket.
"Anything! Where did you go? Why did you leave? Were you kidnapped? Did someone say something to make you run away?" His questions came one right after the other making her stutter and recoil in her seat. "Where -"
"I was with some friends." She lied, cringing at how bad a liar she was and knowing that he could probably guess that what she said wasn't the truth.
Sitting back with an exasperated look across his face, Mr Emerson gave her a pointed look.
"Was it that boy again? That Shane kid who hangs around your group of friends? Did he stop at your work and take you somewhere?" His voice was firm. Cold. She could see the distrust brewing in his eyes as he spoke of the boy.
Not knowing who he was talking about, she chose to lie once again; he didn't seem to hold much liking towards whoever this guy was and she wasn't ready to see his face become any more sour than it was already,
"No, it wasn't him. It doesn't matter." Her eyes stared into his, her palm growing clammy as her eyes threatened to look away from the tense blue staring back.
"Of course it matters!" Mr Emerson started, bringing his hands up to rub his creased brow, "You were gone for 3 months — no calls."
Before she could reply, a large vanilla shake was slipped under her nose catching her attention and making her look at the waitress who awkwardly stood before them dishing out their orders.
"Thank you, Elsie," Mr Emerson smiled, his icy countenance thawing away quickly at the sight of the older woman and the food, "It looks great!"
"Aww, thanks, dear." She replied, the awkwardness vanishing after hearing his words and a warm smile blessing her wrinkled face.
Tuning them out, Hanna looked down at her milkshake, absentmindedly stirring it with her straw.
How could she explain herself to Mr Emerson if she couldn't even explain herself to herself?
The commotion in the diner began to escalate causing the atmosphere to buzz with intensity; all of which was ignored by the brown eyed girl who sat absentmindedly sipping on her milkshake. It wasn't until a tap on the window next to her that she fell back into reality.
Swinging her head to the left, her eyes met with the familiar blue that belonged to one of the boys who took her home earlier.
Smiling now that he caught her attention, the tall blond sent her a seductive wink before turning on his heel and heading towards a row of stripped bikes, each one accommodating three other familiar boys.
Not really knowing what to do, Hanna turned her attention back to her milkshake; her body slowly sliding down the chair to try and hide her awkwardness.
"— What d'ya say?" Mr Emerson enquired looking at her expectantly.
"—Hm?" Hanna replied, eyes shooting up towards Mr. Emerson to see that he was now talking to her and not the waitress. Her eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.
"About your job. I asked if you feel comfortable returning to your work?"
"Oh! Um..." She trailed off not knowing what to say.
"You don't have to go back straight away. In fact, it would be best for you to take some time off. Get your bearings sorted." He advised with a small nod.
Agreeing, Hanna nodded her head. The idea of going to work in some unknown place frightening her a bit.
"Okay. No problem. I'll let Ned know the situation. I believe he'll be glad that your back and unharmed. You caused a lot of panic for everyone here." He spoke again, chewing lightly on fries as he did so.
"I'm sorry." She apologised wholeheartedly, deciding to just play along with whatever was going on; noting that she would have to do a bit of digging around for information to make sense of what was happening.
With a tired sigh, Mr. Emerson leaned back in his seat; blue eyes scrutinising Hanna's sincere expression with an absence of emotion.
"It's okay." He breathed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The tightness of the conversation now loosening and once again becoming more light-hearted.
Smiling back at the old man, she resumed drinking her milkshake — the creamy flavour relaxing her and putting her into a calm state.
"Ain't they the boys who took ya home tonight?"
Mr. Emerson's question caught her attention immediately. The straw that she was sucking on falling away from her mouth as soon as she looked back towards the bikes she saw mere seconds day ago.
Sat astride their steel steeds were the handsome boys from before. The blond who knocked on the window stood next to the pale blond, both nursing cigarettes in their hands, all the while the other two were conversing with each other — about what, she couldn't tell as their words were masked behind their jaw-dropping smiles.
"Y-yeah..." Hanna replied, her eyes stuck to the four like glue.
"Hm." Mr Emerson breathed distastefully, "I think it's time to head back. It's getting late and I think ya need some rest."
Without waiting for a reply, he stood up from the booth; money already out and his jacket halfway on his shoulders, "Come on."
Abiding by his decision, Hanna began to slide out of her seat; the soft leather of the booth lightly sticking to her bare thighs as she moved.
"Goodnight Dennis! It was good seeing you again." The waitress, Elsie, called out as she watched them leave the diner. Replying with a carefree wave, Mr Emerson guided Hanna out into the crowded streets of the boardwalk — the brunette still transfixed on the mysterious boys sitting on their stripped back motorcycles.
"Come on, come on." Mr Emerson lightly scolded, "There's no time to ogle at boys. We need to get home."
Half listening to his words Hanna picked up her pace next to the old man, swerving around the odd pedestrian as she went.
Reaching the strip that lead to Mr Emerson's jeep, Hanna realised just how close the boys had situated their bikes to where they were parked, their presence a mere stone throw away.
"Damn punks." Mr Emerson muttered to himself, his body already halfway inside the vehicle.
Ignoring his snide remark, Hanna hopped into the passenger side of the jeep, her eyes looking back to the boys only for her breath to catch in her throat when her eyes met with the crystal clear blue that belonged to the pale blond.
With quick movements she looked away, pretending to be interested with the zipper of her coat. Her mind buzzing over the fact that she just got caught staring at the attractive boys.
As the jeep engine roared to life, she took one last sneaky look at the men, brown meeting blue once again.
Smirking at her embarrassed state, the pale blond blew out the last puff of smoke from between his thin -- yet soft -- looking lips before crushing the butt of the cigarette underneath his boot.
Not being able to tear her eyes away, she watched as he peeled down the opposite end of the boardwalk, the other boys following close behind -- each one sparing her one last glance before disappearing into the darkness beyond the boardwalk's lights.
Tag List 🏷:
@nataliewalker93 @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @aldhidbah
#Spotify#tlb 1987#the lost boys#lost boys#tlb#alex winter#david the lost boys#kiefer sutherland#brooke mccarter#billy wirth#the lost boys x oc#paul x oc#david x oc#marko x oc#dwayne x oc#1987#michael tlb#michael emerson#sam emerson#vampires#arieslunaangel
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝕬𝖘 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖘𝖔 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖜
chapter 2;
tw: mentions of somebody disappearing
After meeting Johnny the days went by without a trace of him, it was as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth.
To add to that, something weird was going on. There were days where David just couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Whether it was on the boardwalk, in a bar, or damn, even during a kill in an isolated area of the beach or a dark alley - he always felt a pair of eyes staring a hole in his back but, when he turned around, nobody, or nothing was behind him.
He was starting to get a bit frustrated and it reflected in the way he was treating the others. He was moodier - as if he wasn’t already - snappier. He was also a bit more paranoid than usual. Something was clearly going on.
The others were weird too. Always on edge.
The thing is; they all felt it. They all felt those eyes stalking them in the dead of night as they were doing whatever.
Dwayne was alert, more than usual. At the slightest sound he would jump and stare into the darkness. He would look frantically in the shadows for someone or something - he always found nothing.
Paul was paranoid, what if somebody was spying on them? What if they knew they were vampires and they wanted to hurt them. Maybe he should stop smoking so much weed.
Marko was pissed off most of the time. The fact that he couldn’t pinpoint what the source of that sensation was, was frustrating him. He would kill his victims with far more anger, lashing his frustration on them and sometimes on the boys too.
This, of course, led to a lot of discussions and petty arguments. Whether it was Dwayne being paranoid when Marko almost got himself burnt alive because he almost didn’t make it in time to the cave after a kill, or whether it was Marko being angry at Paul for one particular joke of his or Paul not understanding why everyone was so calm, or David being angry at everyone for the slightest inconvenience, the slightest delay, everyone was on edge, at their throats.
It got so bad that sometimes they wouldn’t even talk to each other.
Even Max would soon find out how much on edge they were.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
They were at the video store, all together. David was talking to Max about what was going on and the others were roaming around.
“Man, I feel weird even here. And it’s certainly not because of the poor choice of horror movies in this place. Really chucky in the slasher movies’ section?” Paul said.
“You feel weird everywhere, smoke less weed. It’s getting to your head.” Marko snapped.
“And yet you don’t seem to have a problem smoking it.” Paul responded as he shot his head toward him.
“You still smoke more than me.” Marko replied. And another argument began.
Dwayne tried to stop them “C’mon kids be nice to each other.”. But it was no use.
“What does quantity have to do with this weird…feeling anyways? Besides, you are being a bitch these days. Guess you should try having less dick up your ass, Marko!” Paul snapped.
Marko, snapped his head towards him and stared, then launched himself at Paul.
That’s when David and Max interrupted the conversation to separate the two and then drag them to the back to have a more private conversation.
“I leave you for 5 fucking minutes!!” David shouted at them. Then turned to Max “See? This is what I was talking about.”
Max nodded “I’ll look into it, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. You’re just going through a phase. You all worry about each other. Go have fun together and it’ll pass. Besides, there are no hunters around for now, but I have taken some precautions.” He went inside again and when he came back there was a kid with him. He had shoulder length hair and a blue jacket.
“Why don’t you take care of him and show him around?”
His presence kind of helped the guys as now they had to actually worry about something (or rather someone), but actually what did the trick was Max’s words. The fact that he had dismissed their worries made them believe that was, maybe, a quickstep.
His name was Laddie. They welcomed him with open arms and after a few days the mood changed.
Dwayne was like a dad to him and he was in charge of the more practical aspects of taking care of him - providing for him in any way possible, teaching him how to read, looking after him.
Paul and Marko were essentially his playmates. He played tricks on the others with Marko, while Paul took him to some questionable events (concerts and forbidden sections of the video store) - much to the dismay of Dwayne. David was all in all neutral, after all he was just a kid, it was of course a new preoccupation to the list, but he didn’t mind that much and he was better with them than if he was alone.
So they started going out with lighter souls and while the feeling was still there, it seemed that things were going well.
Except…
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
One particular night the group had gone on the boardwalk together.
Dwayne felt like staying close to David. Maybe he would wander a bit and have fun with Laddie, but at the same time he wanted to keep himself and everyone in range of vision.
The others had decided to wander off into the crowd. Marko and Paul wanted to let loose. With this newly found peace they wanted fun, they craved it.
David wasn’t particularly worried, as he watched Marko and Paul disappear in the crowd, but he was vigilant .
He waited a bit and then told Dwayne that he would go looking for a victim.
“Wait for me here.” and after Dwayne gave him the heads up he needed, he headed towards the sea of people.
That day it seemed there were more people than usual, probably because it was the middle of July. A really hot July. And people (or rather humans) just loved going out on summer nights. "I almost feel bad for them" he thought as he scanned person after person to find his victim.
But as he was caught up in his search he suddenly stopped. The feeling had come back and this time it was stronger than before. It felt big and dark and it felt like it would hurt him. Hurt Marko and Paul.
He decided to see if they went back to Dwayne on the beach.
“Did you see Paul and Marko?” David asked Dwayne.
“No, I last saw them when they said goodbye.” he responded.
“Fuck”.
He tried to contact them telepathically to make sure that they were ok. Nothing.
“It doesn’t feel right”, Dwayne could see the worry on David’s face. He had known David for so long that he had learned how to discern the emotions that he tried to hide because he was the leader, because he had to protect them, because they were brothers, because he loved them and he would risk it all for them if anything happened.
But as he was thinking Dwayne felt the same dark sensation lurking, alerting him. He was scared, scared for Marko and Paul. He looked at laddie and he was scared for him too. What if it could harm him?
“We should go looking for them.” Dwayne said.
“Yes. You go left and I go right.”
“Follow me bud.” he said to Laddie.
And they were off into the crowd. They looked for Paul and Marko everywhere. Attractions, shops, diners, places to get drinks, even clubs, record stores, vhs stores. Nothing. And the feeling was always there, all too present for both David and Dwayne.
David was starting to get more erratic, he could contact mentally Dwayne which was a good and a bad sign. The fact that he could, meant that he wouldn’t lose him, but why couldn’t he contact Marko and Paul? He was constantly checking on Dwayne.
And Dwayne, on the other hand, was just as anxious. Constantly checking on Laddie too.
They agreed to head back to the beach.
They constantly tried to contact them but there was no response.
David was about to suggest to Dwayne to contact Max when he saw them. Paul and Marko were by their motorcycles.
David was furious with them and he stormed their way. Followed by Dwayne.
The feeling had changed, it was less heavy and it almost felt as if it was…amused? It was like a gentle laugh and it infuriated David even more. He didn’t like being made fun of. By whatever.
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU TWO BEEN, UH?” he screamed at them
“We just went around some stalls and grabbed some drinks” Marko replied “No need to get so pressed about it.”
“We couldn’t contact you, Marko, both of you.” Dwayne tried to ease the situation.
“And the feeling was back” David continued with a serious tone.
“Oh come on David, you’re just paranoid.” Paul replied with an annoyed tone.
“We didn’t feel anything, besides even Max said that it’s nothing to worry about. Let loose a little” marko finished his sentence and there was a pause.
David got closer to him and he grabbed his jacket David was furious with a rage that he couldn’t describe as his.
“Paranoid, uh? Do you think it’s funny? Do you even know what could happen to us if we were found by…” but before he could continue
“Hey, guys what’s up!” a familiar voice chimed. “Oh did I interrupt something?”.
It was Johnny.
David turned around to get a look of him; he was wearing a white tank top that looked like he had cut himself, a leather jacket and a pair of blue denims and dirty sneakers. In his left hand there was a plastic glass of beer that he brought to his lips to drink all the while looking at David with a glare that he could quite make out. It was mischievous and smug.
“Hey, J where have you been?” asked Paul excitedly getting close to him.
While Paul grabbed his right arm in a handshake he answered “I’ve had some work to do.”
Johnny looked at the others “and you guys? Where have you been? Oh hey little bud.”
Dwayne got closer too “The usual, having fun… what work did you do.”
“A family friend. I work at his club.” he answered
“Oh really, I’ve been to a lot of clubs, which one?” replied Paul.
Now Johnny had the attention of everyone. Marko and David too, after they cooled down.
“His club is The Lily.”
“Oh really!?! I’ve always seen the craziest stuff go down there.” Paul hollered. Johnny smiled, not exactly pleased with the statement.
“So you guys are down for any fun?” he wanted to change the subject
“Hell yeah!!” they all hollered.
Except for David he was behind the others looking at the scene.
As they got closer to the life of Santa Carla, Johnny started to be left behind, slowly finding himself closer to David.
“So did you find your sister?” David asked while looking in front of him as to check what the terror twins and Dwayne were doing. Laddie was running around but he stopped to listen. Marko quickly glanced at them, he had heard the question.
“No, not yet. But I’m not worried, she’s a tough cookie. We’ll find her.” he answered.
“How long has she been missing?” he continued, not looking at Johnny yet.
“Almost seven months.” his tone was less cheerful than before and he chugged what was left of his beer. They still hadn’t looked at eachother.
“And why did she leave?” Laddie had found enough courage to ask the question.
Johnny took a deep breath. “Touchy subject” David thought to himself. He turned slightly to his right to look at Johnny's face. He was clearly hurting a bit.
But as he was studying him, he turned around too, to look at him,and he could have sworn that when Johnny locked his pale blue eyes with him, David felt Johnny’s heartbeat quicken.
“We don’t know bud. A lot of stuff happened, all at once. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Sometimes people just want to leave, but it’s not forever.” he said as he looked away.
“Do you have a picture of her? Maybe we’ve seen her.” Marko chimed and with that Johnny was brought back to reality as he shook his head.
“Yes actually,”Johnny replied, fishing in one of his back pockets to take out a wallet “here you go” he said as he opened it and five photos came out. They were in one of those plastic things where you could put more than one picture and it would open falling down. The sight had caught the attention of the other boys too.
The first picture was one of a little girl, dark hair and a missing tooth smiling wide.
The second picture was one of a girl, still with dark hair-the same that the kid and johnny seemed to share apparently- and bright eyes though the colour was impossible to decipher as the pictures were in black and white. She was smiling and she was waving at the camera. David felt weird looking at her, maybe it was because of the cross necklace around her neck.
The third picture was one of a girl, sitting on the front porch of a house wearing a white dress, she had a cigarette in her hand and she was looking at the camera, she had the same penetrating stare of Johnny but with a set of untamed hair.
The fourth picture was one where the four siblings were all together. The kid, the brunette, Johnny, the wild haired girl and a blonde girl. They were all smiling except for the blonde.
The last picture was a picture of the blonde girl. Her face looked concentrated, she wasn’t looking at the camera, but in front of her. Her blonde hair was lit up by a ray of sunshine that came from behind her. Her nose was pronounced, a kind of nose that some would describe as European, her eyes were big and her eyebrows slim, slightly scrunched, her mouth seemed to be dark in colour, but the black and white was unforgiving. She wasn’t wearing fancy clothes, but she looked elegant, maybe it was her posture.
“The first is Sonny, in a few months she’ll be twelve. This is when she had lost one of teeths. What’s your name bud? ‘Cause you two could get along” he turned to Laddie.
“I’m Laddie.” he said excitedly, then he turned to Dwayne who encouraged him, probably to remember what to say. “Nice to meet you, you are the buzzcut guy that fights like a beast.”
Everybody laughed. Clearly he had picked up on one of the conversations between the guys. But Johnny didn’t mind.
“Yeah, sound fitting. Anyways the second one is Hagata. She's ok, a sweet girl. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. She moved here with me”. Johnny saw Paul open his mouth “No she’s not the one missing.” he said with a soft chuckle.
“Third is Lydia…”
“I like that one!” Marko interrupted.
“First she’s my sister. Second, chances are she won’t like you. She’s a pain in the ass.”Johnny replied sternly.
“Hard to get, sounds fun!” Marko replied and Johnny shot him a glare that could kill 100 men instantly, his cold eyes brighter than ever. But he turned back to the pictures.
“Fourth is us at our old house, a while before Mo disappeared.” David looked at Johnny; he looked at the girl in the picture and there was no denying he was sad. He lifted his eyes to look at David that was on his left and he felt it again: his pulse had quickened. Maybe he liked him.
“And this must be her then.” Dwayne pointed at the last picture.
“Yes it’s Morgan. She’s always been quiet, but my god Sonny adores her. She misses her a lot. Kinda reminds of you and the little bud, Dwayne.”
“Damn she’s hot!” Paul exclaimed as he got closer since he was left a bit outside of the circle that had formed. Everyone laughed. Even Johnny, a cringed and slightly pained laugh.
He put away his wallet, and there was a small pause.
“We haven’t seen her but if we do we'll let you know” David reassured Johnny.
He got closer to him and again he felt his heartbeat pick up. He put his right arm on his shoulders and his heart didn’t stop running.
“Let’s go have some fun, shall we?” and as the others hollered and screamed with excitement they got lost in the crowd.
#marko the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#david the lost boys#paul the lost boys#laddie the lost boys#tlb 1987#tlb x oc#the lost boys#dwayne x oc#paul x oc#marko x oc#david x oc
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝙼𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚎 2 𝚒𝚗 2023 :
𝚅𝚜 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 :
....𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎...
(Y’all when I tell you i’m going to write for that man…)
#i lost my blog#i’m a shit#x reader#smut#x oc smut#dune part two#dune part 2#dune x reader#dune x you#austin butler#feyd x reader#feyd rautha#feyd rautha x reader#paul atreides#paul atreides x reader#dune 2 x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
a piece of me dies every time im reading a fic and taylor swift lyrics pop up😭 then i realize the description of the oc or “reader” are very white coded like OH! that’s not…
#black reader#x reader#x oc#LIKE PLSSS I PROMISE THERE ARE OTHER ARTISTS WITH BETTER SONG TO USE#austin butler x black!reader#timothee chalamet x reader#black!reader#carmen berzatto x reader#paul atreides x reader#jake sully x reader#austin butler x reader#kennedy talks#peeta mellark x reader#finnick odair x reader#poc!reader
601 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiii!
Can I request a paul x reader who’s pregnant and he gets realll handsy….
Thank youuuu!
Thank you so much for this request. I’ve been imagining Paul as a father and umf yes, get me pregnant daddy. Here you go, hope you enjoy it!
“Baby, please! I need to finish the dishes” you push your boyfriend’s hands away from your stomach as you continue washing the plate you’ve been busy with for the past five minutes. Ever since you told Paul you were having his baby, he can’t seem to get enough of you. His hands will be everywhere, anywhere at anytime. And so are his lips as your neck and shoulders were marked with many hickeys and lovebites. “You can finish them later, just want to look at you” he mumbles into your hair, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to his chest. You giggle and turn around in his arms, stepping on your toes to peck his lips. “You’re always looking at me, Lahote.” “Don’t blame me, you just look so beautiful carrying my pup” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses your hair.
“Paul!” You giggle as he keeps on assaulting your neck with kisses, licks and bites. “Give up y/n, when i was pregnant with Asher, Sam was exactly the same.” You look over to see Emily standing in the opening of the door with an amused expression on her face. She walks over to the two of you and smiles at Paul. “I’ll take over from here” she takes the plates out of your hand and gives you a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Have fun kids” she waves you away and turns on the water to finish washing.
As you and your boyfriend head up to the guest room, Paul can’t help himself and smacks your ass. “Let’s go baby mama, gonna make you feel real good” he smirks as he opens the door for you. Before you have a chance to walk inside, Paul’s hands are all over your body. His one hand fists your hair, bringing your face closer to his and claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss while the other takes a hold of your ass and squeezes it as if his life depended on it.
“Paul, shit” you whimper as he sucks and bites your neck, you tilt your head slightly to give him a better angle and he takes it hungrily. “Fuck baby, you look so fucking beautiful, just can’t stop looking, fuck” he growls as you palm his cock and run your fingers over his entire length. “Just need to look at you baby,” he grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him. His eyes darkened by lust and desire make you feel something you’ve never felt before, you feel wanted, even when looking like this. You glance at yourself in the mirror that’s standing in the corner of the room.
“See how beautiful you look, carrying my pup, our pup” his hands drift of to your bump, caressing it with both hands. His fingers rubbing smooth circles on the sides of your stomach. You reach your arms up and wrap them around his neck. You lean up and let your lips brush his.
“We love you, Paul Lahote”
“And i love you both so fucking much”
#paul lahote#paul lahote imagine#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote x you#paul lahote smut#paul lahote fluff#paul lahote x y/n#paul lahote x oc#paul lahote angst#twilight imagine#twilight#twilight wolf pack#twilight imagines#twilight wolves
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
We Daren't Go A-Hunting for Fear of Little Men - Chapter 4
(Masterlist)
(a/n not me updating this fic after working on chapter 4 for 2 years, Please be proud of me and give me all the love)
Fandom: Dune
Ship: Paul x OMC, Paul x Duncan
Summary: They stuck to the edge of the cliffs and looked down onto what they could see used to be the enemy camp, now abandoned.
It was located near an ancient ritual site set down at the base of the bluff, the beach spotted with debris and still smoldering fire pits. The enemy must have known they were coming and knowing they were at a disadvantage down in the gulf, they had abandoned their camp.
Warnings: Magic au. Fantasy au. Battle. Injury. Blood. Near death experience. Old Gods. Minor Charactor Deaths. Bit of implief smut at the beginning.
Taglist: @succnfuccubus @softhecreator @almostg @gatoenlaciudad
Duncan made a full recovery from the wounds he had suffered during the attack on Caladan. A fortnight of rest in combination with the green, herby tasting concoction from the healers really did the job, and any lingering ache in his gut was soothed. It didn't fix the ache in his heart or the pit in his stomach that followed his conversation with Paul, but then nothing but time would help with that. He had done the right thing in turning the younger man down, he had.
As soon as Duncan had been cleared to return to active duty, he jumped right into preparing his soldiers for the next assault. He had to get his body back to proper fighting shape, and he used the increased workload to try and not to think about what Paul was getting up to with his new friend behind closed doors. A difficult task as Xander was now one of the Atreides' Warmasters, both for the elite group of soldiers Duncan trained personally and for Paul.
Duncan had approached the Queen about retaining Xander as a tutor to expand Paul's magical education. Lady Jessica had been hesitant at first; she had trained Paul in the magiks of her own sisterhood, the Bene Gesserit, but eventually acknowledged that expanding Paul's education would be a valuable endeavour. Bene Gesserit teachings would help Paul with handling court intrigue and decision making, but Arcane Magik was designed for war and was a skill he should know.
The decision to offer Xander a contract to train the soldiers paid for itself almost immediately as the Atreides spy network discovered that it was their long time enemy, the Geidi Prime Empire, ruled by Vladamir Harkonnen, that had orchestrated the attack on Caladan. They had hired a company of mercenaries from a clan of warriors who worshiped CASONO and EASATH, the gods of dishonourable battle. These mercenaries were known to employ both swordsman and mages alike, so the specialized training Xander could offer would be incredibly beneficial.
When they finally received a new report about the remaining mercenaries within their borders, it was to inform the King that a camp had been found in the western woods, a mere 10 kilometers outside of the capital. Duncan couldn't help but be relieved by the news, as sitting idly had never worked well for him. He needed to deal with this threat to his King and his home.
It would also offer a relief from being in Paul's presence. Duncan had attempted to get over his feelings for the prince but had so far been unsuccessful, and he hoped distance and a good fight would help.
Paul had seemed his normal self after Duncan rejected him; he treated Duncan no differently in public nor in their private interactions. Duncan could admit he was now more aware of the not-so subtle looks Paul gave him and the intense way the Prince watched Duncan, especially during training. But Paul had always looked at Duncan like that; the only difference was that Duncan now knew the emotions behind the scrutiny.
The only real change was a new habit of Duncan catching Paul in compromising situations with his new paramour. One such incident had occurred in the secluded hallway which led to Duncan's quarters after dinner on a warm evening.
Duncan had just changed out of his dinner attire and into a set of threadbare training clothes, with plans for a short private training session, when he stumbled across Paul with a cornered Xander in an alcove. Paul had Xander pushed up against the wall and the Prince was on his knees for him.
Duncan couldn't see exactly what was happening, but the motion of Paul's head, the fingers threaded through his curls, and Xander bitten off moans gave him a pretty good idea of what act was occuring. He had quickly snuck back to his room, chest churning with a mix of jealousy and arousal, and had to take himself in hand. His back was pressed against the closed door, head thrown back, panting hard enough to make his chest heave. It took barely a dozen strokes before he was spilling over his fingers, and his gut filled with shame and guilt.
When he received the orders to deal with the remaining mercenaries, he had been filled with relief at the chance to put some distance between himself and Paul. Duncan wasted no time in gathering his best unit of men and made ready to head out and investigate the reports.
It was too good to be true, however, and it was as though the gods decided to mock Duncan's relief at escaping the Prince and his lover when the King ordered that Paul and Xander were to accompany the party, as their arcane knowledge would be a great asset. Duncan had no reason to deny the King's request, and so the next day, on foot and with just light supplies, the group headed out.
The morning dawned cold and wet, typical for the early fall season in Caladan, and Duncan led the party out the south end of the city. Duncan wanted to make sure they had the element of surprise, so the decision was made that they would travel the long way around to the area where the reports stated the Geidi Empire soldiers were camped out.
Duncan kept the group at a brisk pace; they kept chatting to a minimum and made excellent time. The sun had just reached its highest zenith when they reached the western coastline. They followed the cliff edge until it met the southwest edge of the woods. They made a fast meal of jerky and fresh, sweet apples before Duncan divided his men into groups of twelve to begin their search.
The woods were still, the space between the tall fir trees dark and thick with a dense rolling fog that came in from the ocean. The air smelled of salt and damp.
They searched for hours, up and down the coastline and in the thick woods, but found no sign of the enemy. The sun was well past midday now, and Duncan knew they only had a few hours of daylight left at best.
As each group met back up at their designated rendezvous point, one of Duncan's men finally found a clue. As the fog had cleared throughout the day, a column of black smoke appeared in the distance, further south along the coastline than they had been searching.
Duncan had his men, Paul, and Xander ready themselves before they began to march in that direction.
It took nearly an hour but finally they came to a clearing at the edge of the cliffs, the ground filled with lush, soft looking grass and full red blooms, firelillies.
A bad omen.
Firelillies only grew on ground where blood had been spilt with malice and bad intent. A warning and reminder to any that see them.
They stuck to the edge of the cliffs and looked down onto what they could see used to be the enemy camp, now abandoned.
It was located near an ancient ritual site set down at the base of the bluff, the beach spotted with debris and still smoldering fire pits. The enemy must have known they were coming and knowing they were at a disadvantage down in the gulf, they had abandoned their camp.
Duncan pulled Paul and Xander aside to discuss their next move. He looked to Paul first. "What do you want to do?" Duncan could tell that Paul was surprised at Duncan seeking his council. Duncan had almost a decade of experience in this area, and Paul was just there as magical support.
Paul snuck a quick glance at Xander before he met Duncan's eyes again.
Duncan waited as Paul gave his question some thought. "I think we need to go down and check the area for anything they could have left behind."
Duncan held back a grin at Paul's tone, his decision sounding more like a question than a statement. He was right but still needed more experience to build his confidence up. He nodded at Paul to let the younger man know he agreed.
Duncan looked to Xander next. "Can you sense their magic? Would you know if any traps or wards have been laid?" He asked.
Xander's eyes flashed an even brighter shade of blue before he closed them, his head tilted to the side as though he was listening for something.
Duncan swallowed down his impatience as they waited in silence to see what their resident magik expert could detect.
When Xander finally opened his eyes, his answer was not what Duncan had hoped to hear.
"They left their wards up but just knowing that they are there should mean we won't have much trouble passing them. They were most likely used to keep away the local wildlife." Xander paused and licked his lips nervously. Duncan did not like that. "That place… it feels off. What was it, this place?"
Paul was the one who answered. "It used to be a ritual site, a place to make sacrifices to the old gods. It hasn't been used since my grandfather's time, when worshiping the old gods fell out of style."
Xander nodded, a contemplative look on his face. "I won't be able to tell more until we have passed the wards, but we should be careful all the same. Best to refresh the glyphs before we begin our descent."
Decision made, they quickly redrew the warding on their armor and weapons before Duncan and Paul led the men towards the narrow path which cut into the side of the cliff. They left half the men at the top of the incline to guard their retreat, then began the trek down to the beach.
The path was narrow and crumbling, and they could only move two or three men across at any time, so it was slow going.
Duncan knew without needing to ask when they reached the edge of the wards; even he could feel that strange brush of something foreign against his mind. Telling him to turn back, that there was no reason for them to continue down the path.
Knowing the ward was there made it easy for the group to shrug off its effects, but the closer they descended towards the camp, the more Duncan could tell that the mages of the group were still affected by something. As they stepped off the path and onto the sandy shore, both Paul and Xander began to appear very ill. Their pallor changed, getting paler and paler, almost translucent. Their eyes seemed to sink in, with deep purple bruises forming underneath.
Duncan had to steady the prince as he stumbled over an exposed root. "What's wrong? What's happening?"
Paul shook his head sluggishly “I'm not sure…” Paul answered slowly, “it just feels wrong.”
They both turned to look at Xander for answers and Duncan was startled by the mage's appearance. His eyes were completely black with dark veins spreading out over his face, and his skin gone completely white.
His breathing was shallow, his chest moving rapidly, and he sounded out of breath as he answered their silent question. “They have done something to the site,” he explained, “something to corrupt its energy. They have made it dark and twisted. We need to proceed with caution.”
Duncan nodded, “slowly then.”
The group cautiously moved towards the stretch of beach in front of the entrance, the white sand littered with broken pieces of old broken bones and campfire debris. The walls around the entrance were covered in symbols. Runes and Glyphs depicted the Old Gods, including the mother Goddess EVIKA, but Duncan could also make out symbols for NINURTA, LANUARIA and GALAR, all a part of the original pantheon of Gods from which all others were descended from.
As they crossed the last few meters to the cave, both Paul and Xander stumbled and fell to their knees. The mage had his hands clenched on either side of his head, his eyes closed, and face pinched with pain. The prince was fully hunched over, and Duncan could hear the soft pained sounds that escaped his throat.
He rushed to Paul's side and grabbed his shoulders and knelt down so he could look into Paul's face. The Prince's eyes were completely black now too, and were wet with tears of pain.
Duncan was just opening his mouth to give the order for them to retreat, that they needed to regroup and assess whatever was happening to Paul and Xander, when crazed laughter sounded from deeper in the cave. It got louder and louder until a hooded figure stepped into the fading light.
"How the mighty House of Atreides has fallen, hiring a dark mage when they have a Bene Gesserit witch married into the family." The voice was feminine, husky and sickly sweet. When she threw her hood back, a long dark braid streaked with silver fell over her shoulder. Her face was heart shaped and would be devastatingly beautiful if it wasn't for the crazed look in her eyes, the taint of insanity in the cruel twist of her lips, and the arch of her brows.
She started to cackle uncontrollably as the sun fell behind the edge of the trees and distant mountains, casting long shadows across the beach.
"You will fall under the power of ANHARCATH!” she shrieked, and her eyes bled black.
The shadows inside the cave begin to lengthen and stretch out and come alive as tendrils which never quite settled on a form. The mage’s control over whichever god they had tried to summon was incomplete, which meant it could not take full form. It shifted between vaguely humanoid shapes, but was taller than any man Duncan had ever seen, with limbs too long and great antlers upon its head.
Duncan felt the clench of cold fear in his gut, and he could feel the sweat gathering at the small of his back. Duncan had never felt this kind of fear before, not even when he was laying on the cold stone, dying from the stab wound to his gut. He spared a quick thought that it must be a power belonging to ANHARCATH before he began ordering his men into attack formations.
Paul was barely on his feet, swaying and using his staff to hold himself upright. Xander was standing under his own power, but he looked inhuman, his eyes completely black and shiny, like the scales of a deep sea fish. From the tips of his fingers, magik sparked and fell with black lightning as he moved to intercept ANHARCATH, and with a wave of his hand, a wall of light blocked ANHARCATH from attacking. Or it did for a minute before it disappeared, but ANHARCATH raised one claw tipped shadow hand and swiped out, cutting through armour and flesh as the first of Duncan men fell in a spray of blood.
The battle was chaotic; Duncan could barely keep up as ANHARCATH attacked on the command of the mercenary caster. ANHARCATH not being fully manifested in their plane did not stop his men from falling under the onslaught, one after another. The sand had grown muddy and wet with their spilled blood.
Paul managed to find the strength to stand and was fighting with the enemy caster. She clearly did not have experience in close range combat, as Duncan could see how Paul's attacks threw her off balance and made many spells pitter out and die uncast. It was lucky as while Paul was standing, he was clearly unsteady, and only two decades of intense training kept him going.
Duncan was torn between moving to help his Prince or aiding his men, and the equally unsteady Xander was fighting off one of the most reviled gods in their pantheon.
Xander took the decision out of Duncan's hands when he threw a short blade in the swordmasters direction. When Duncan caught the blade, he could see that it had strange glowing symbols sloppily written along the metal.
"Kill her and whatever spell she used to summon ANHARCATH should end. Use that blade!"
Decision made, Duncan rushed to Paul's side, intercepting a dagger the mercenary witch had aimed at Paul's throat. A swing of the enchanted sword and her arm went flying in a spray of blood, severed just above the elbow.
She wailed in agony, clutching the stump of her arm while blood continued to drip through her fingers onto the sand.
Her face twisted in hatred. “I'll fucking kill you!” she screeched, thrusting her blood soaked hand in their direction, a ball of vibrant purple lighting crackling in her palm.
‘FREEZE!’ The power of Paul's command in The Voice was shocking, given how weak he appeared, but it was strong enough that even Duncan found himself frozen for several long seconds by proximity. The mercenary mage was hit with the full power of that command, and she trembled in place, chest barely moving with her breath.
It almost felt dishonourable to take advantage, but the command had no effect on ANHARCATH, and another of Duncan's men fell to its shadowy form. The fight needed to end, and it needed to end now.
It only took Duncan three long strides to cross the distance and one well practiced strike to sink the enchanted blade deep into her chest, puncturing her heart. He watched her face go slack and saw the shine of life leave her eyes before he ripped the blade from her flesh, and she crumbled to the ground, dead.
As soon as the woman hit the dirt, an inhuman wail left the shadowy form of ANHARCATH, like the pained cry of some sort of dying animal. It shrieked and growled as its form grew fainter and fainter until it faded away to nothing. The silence on the beach was shocking after the chaos of the fight.
Duncan rushed to Paul's side, checking the Prince over for any serious injury but besides a few scraps, he seemed no worse for wear. The black was fading from his eyes and some colour had returned to his face, a wash of pink under the dirt.
Paul brushed Duncan's hands away gently. “I'm fine Duncan, thank you.”
Duncan turned away to take in the state of his men, and to his horror, only three of the two dozen men he had brought down to the beach were left standing, with the addition of Paul and Xander. Duncan will have to send a retrieval team to collect the bodies of his men so they could receive a proper burial.
They did not delay their journey home, and the further away they got, the more the effects on Xander and Paul faded. Both mages were still unsteady, but the black had completely faded from their eyes, the black lines were gone, and they looked well and healthy.
They were almost half way home when Paul questioned the other mage in a quiet voice. “Was her blood black?”
To which Xander responded, “The colour of her blood was the least of my worries.”
Duncan frowned at the question; had her blood been black? He would have to discuss with Lady Jessica the best way to cleanse the site of its taint, and quickly. They did not want that corruption to spread, not after what it cost them on that beach.
#kirstin's chronicles#dune#dune fanfiction#paul atreides#duncan idaho#paul x oc#paul x m!oc#dune fandom#paul x duncan#atreidaho
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Lost Boys Sexy Mate Headcanon
David:
•He is the hardest to get to know in the group, the most closed off despite the fact that he talks to people the most as the ‘Leader’ of the group
•David is a Dom if ever there was one, he needs to be in control at all times
•He would never let anyone know it but he craves his mates attention desperately, and if you make the mistake of pulling away from him before he’s ready for you to move you will regret it
•He doesn’t always have to be touching you like some of his brothers with their mate but he does always need to be able to see you. If he looks back from scoping out the packs next meal and can’t immediately see you then he is instantly ready to slaughter whoever has stolen you from him!
•David loves blindfolding you when you play together. The trust you give him makes him the happiest vampire in the world, the faith that you have in him to not know whether he is going to run a feather over your flesh or his own fangs is incredibly arousing to him
•He’s a bit too controlling for you in the beginning but you adapt to it quickly, moving into the cave with your mate about a week after meeting him and turning that next weekend as David wasn’t okay with allowing his precious mate to be at risk a moment longer than she had to and you were completely fine with that
Dwayne:
•Dwayne is quite a bit like David when it comes to his mate, he doesn’t always have to be touching you but he does always have to see you however he finds the need to touch you quickly growing on him as you take to hanging off of him most of the time
•He shocked you when you found out how much of a cuddler he was when you’re alone or in the cave, his brothers sometimes like to tease him for how ‘clingy’ he is when you’re snuggled up on the couch but you just flip them off and run your fingers through his hair. He loves laying his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you as firmly as he could…honestly he just loves laying his face between your breasts
•He wasn’t a fan of toys until he caught you with your vibrator one night and from then on his favorite thing was taking you apart with it before stretching you out on his cock until you’re a boneless puddle unable to move
•Dwayne isn’t very jealous but it doesn’t mean he’s not possessive as fuck, he knows you would never be unfaithful but he believes only he should ever be allowed to touch you
•He quickly took to taking pictures of you. He ‘bought’ a Polaroid so that he could take pictures of you any time you were doing something he thought was ‘cute’ which was all the time. Dwayne knew that once you turned he would never be able to take pictures of you again so he wanted all he could get now. He convinced you to allow him to take some sexy pictures of you as well, he has many of you under him with your hair over the pillows and your breasts either in a lacy bra or exposed for his pleasure. His favorite picture however was an image of you in a black lacy bra and panty set, straddling his bike on the cliff by their cave at sunset that he carry’s in his wallet everywhere he goes
•2 weeks was all it took for him to get you to come and live with him in the cave, drinking his blood that very same night and joining their eternal family
Marko:
•Marko often pulls you as close as he can, loving it when you wrapped yourself around him like a spider monkey
•He is a very jealous mate, glaring at every male that so much as looked at you sideways and often getting into fights on the boardwalk with Surf Nazis as well as just normal tourists, once even punching a 12 year old boy in the nose for looking at your ass
•One thing that Marko loves is fucking outside, and he loves fucking you in the rain. It started as something you did to be out of the cave so his brothers couldn’t bother or tease you, and it was one of his favorite memories, pinning you to the tree, your clothes soaking through and heavy as he brushed your drenched hair out of your face and saw your cute little smile, pulling you into a passionate kiss and spending the next hour and a half playing with you in the storm as the waves crashed so loudly you could barely hear each other
•Marko shocked you a bit by not allowing his brothers to touch you at all for quite some time after you got together. He knew they wouldn’t hurt you but he was so possessive and protective of you that he didn’t like the idea of anyone but him touching a single inch of you
•It was on your 1 month anniversary that you moved into the cave and you lived there with him for several months before turning and joining the pack, Marko not being as pushy for you to turn and wanting you to experience all your human things before turning so you wouldn’t regret it
Paul:
•Paul had his hands on you 110% of the time, constantly needing skin on skin contact with you whenever possible
•He was the most touchy and attentive of the vampires, and while he’s always been flirty and a bit of a man-whore, that completely changed when he found his mate
•Paul loves finding new ways to pleasure you, and tease you as well, which is why he was always open to trying new things. His favorite thing that he has discovered with you is your fluffy tail plug which he got you matching ears for to be his little pet
•Paul doesn’t mind fucking you in front of his brothers. He actively tries to cover you as much as he can from their sight but for the most part he would rather put up with them being in the room rather than not touch you at all
•You found out quickly in the relationship that he had never gone down on a girl before when he admitted it to you, desperate to have you wrap your legs around his head but not wanting to hurt you. You thought he was sweet, and honestly his embarrassment was adorable. He had never had a real committed relationship before (only fucking girls before feeding on them and never having a relationship before being turned at 18 by David and Marko) and now that he did he wanted to give you everything and make you scream like a good boyfriend is supposed to (and not how he normally makes women scream)
•He ended up being extremely good with his mouth and eating his mate out became one of his all time favorite things to do to you, loving the way your legs shook around his head and you soaked his face
•Paul was a fantastic mate and after moving into the cave a few weeks into your relationship you offered to turn so that you could be with him forever and Paul was beyond happy about it as he had tried so hard not to pressure you into becoming a vampire for him but he knew as you drank his blood that night that you had the rest of eternity together
Lost Boys Masterlist
#vampire#The Lost Boys#marko the lost boys#david the lost boys#paul the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#cult classic#vampire headcanons#David#Dwayne#Paul#Marko#the lost boys imagines#lost boys imagine#Lost Boys smut#lost boys x oc#lost boys x y/n#lost boys x reader#lost boys fluff#lost boys Headcanons#david lost boys#paul lost boys#marko lost boys#dwayne lost boys#lost boys#vampire imagine
618 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist
Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)
Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE
Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.
But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.
She is Arthur’s Angel,
but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.
And by extend, you are too.
Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.
TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)
ACT I.
♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes
♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared
♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞
♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour
♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes
♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned
♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞
♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams
ACT II.
♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll
♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞
♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn
♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did
♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die
♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞
♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World
♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)
♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)
♢ Ch. 18 ||
ACT III.
♢ Ch. 18 ||
♢ Ch. 19 ||
♢ Ch. 20 ||
♢ Ch. 21 ||
♢ Ch. 22 ||
♢ Ch. 23 ||
♢ Ch. 24 ||
♢ Ch. 25 ||
♢ The series can be longer.
Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.
Related works - in chronological order-
♢ From Blood We Will Grow
♢ To Bark and Bite
♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)
♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)
♢ Perfect Lines
♢ Savage Daughter
♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)
♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)
♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)
♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)
Moodboards and other content
♢ Playlist
♢ Moodboard Aesthetic
♢ Moodboard Chapter 6
♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer
♢ Moodboard Chapter 12
♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer
Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko
#arthur shelby#arthur shelby x reader#Peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#Arthur shelby x oc#Thomas Shelby#Tommy shelby x reader#Tommy shelby x oc#Arthur shelby x you#arthur shelby jr#arthur shelby x y/n#Arthur shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fanfic#john shelby x reader#Arthur shelby x ofc#Heaven Shelby#Polly Gray#Michael Gray#tommy shelby#peaky blinders x reader#Paul anderson#Cillian Murphy
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
doing-something-unholy
sinhound
myhobbitpippin
Myhobbitpippin
guiltybydesign
lonely little baby
franklyfontaine
welcome to nuka world
azdesertflyer
The only look I have