#also seems fun to answer queries too

[casuallyanidiot]

yandere vampire whos a total sweetie most of the time, but loses his mind whenever youre bleeding?

This is so interesting and fun! Make it Victorian and it's extra yummy.

Vampire in the Garden

[Yandere M. x Gn reader] tw. noncon, blood, MDNI Nfsw under the cut 1.6k words

You're annoyed and yet flattered to have such a suitor. He's the mysterious marquis who hardly attends social gatherings, and yet he appeared in your garden near nightly. How scandalous!

But he managed to endear himself to you despite the odd visiting hours, and you found yourself waiting up later and later into the evening to greet him. His ashen skin shone even when the moon was new, and he had such a charming smile upon his visage that you found it hard to refuse him.

The marquis sent you gifts often. Flowers from his personal greenhouse, suits and gowns tailored to your form, books that you expressed interest in reading in passing from your nightly chats, and small trinkets and gems would arrive the morning after you awoke. It was truly flattering, and you felt your heart flutter softly each time you graze fingertips now.

You asked him to attend a ball with you, and he did. It caused quite the stir when the wealthy, reclusive man steps into the grand hall only moments after the sun set. He smiled, and you returned the gesture. You could hardly pay attention to the murmurs of the crowd when he had so quickly whisked you away onto the dance floor. He was so beautiful under candlelight that you were left breathless. It was almost unfair how his dark eyes could sparkle with such golden intensity when they looked at you.

He pulled you aside to a moonlit balcony after the music died down, and he slipped a ring on your finger.

"I would be delighted if you would so deign to have me as your husband, my dear," He murmured as if he was a man begging for food, for the right to have something needed to live. He clutched you to his chest in a manner so intimate that you wondered how either of you had ever managed to stay so far apart before. It was quite improper of you at the time, yet you answered not with words to his query but instead a passionate meeting of the lips.

You were married shortly after.

It had been a grand yet private affair, and your things were boxed and packaged, loaded into a carriage, and you were taken deep into the countryside where your new spouse's estate resided. You weren't used to being so isolated from people, and it was odd getting used to living outside of city life, but you weren't one to complain.

Living with Victor, your husband, was smooth and sweet. You found that he tended to sleep during the day and dine, work, and pamper you with affection once the sky streaked orange and dark navy blues. He was truly ecstatic to have you, and you found that you were settling nicely into this odd, nocturnal routine.

You tried not to think about the small, odd things that you found cropping up, though. Servants whispered in the halls about shadows that seemed to linger longer than they should. Gossip surely. Victor also sipped from crystalline wine glasses at almost every supper, and you got the faintest whiff of iron from them.

"Darling, I'm curious. You seem to enjoy your drink quite much," You mentioned one evening, and he seemed to freeze and then bashfully hang his head.

"My dear, I am afraid to say that this is far too harsh and offending for your delicate lips," He teased, and you dropped your curious queries in favor of giggling like a young maiden.

Nothing was out of place until one night, when the stars shone brightly upon your rather scantily clad self. You relaxed within the gardens, enjoying the crisp night air. The roses were in full bloom, a brilliant white shade covered the flower beds. It resembled a snowy field, peaceful and fragrant. You hummed a soft tune as you reached down to pick one of the full, unfurled blooms.

"Ow!" You cried out and hissed softly. "Oh... you fiendish little thing," You sighed and glared at the rose which had been painted with a flash of vibrant scarlet from your blood. How foolish you had been. Of course they would have thorns. Now your poor little finger was bleeding freely and staining your formerly pristine nightgown. You clutched your injured hand to your chest and turned to walk back into the manor to tend to the wound when you spotted him.

His face was downcast, shadowed and hidden from you. His shoulders were hunched, and you blinked in confusion.

"Love? Victor?" You called out to him, your pain forgotten momentarily. He was trembling, and you furrowed your brows. Whatever had possessed him to see him so... eerie? You approached him quickly, your hand cradling his face to bring it into the light.

It was then you saw his expression in all his glory.

Victor's fangs were on full display, drooling and snarling your name against the empty night. His golden eyes seemed to glow unnaturally, and you stepped back in shock.

"V-victor?" You squeaked out, unsure of whether or not you should me scared when his full blown pupils dilated and focused on you.

"Oh darling..." he half moaned as he shuddered in your arms. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest when you felt the razor sharp pinpricks of what you could only assume were claws poking into your shoulders when he gripped you far too tightly. Your lips parted in quivering terror, and all of a sudden, he was sinking his teeth into your exposed neck.

You screamed, but no one was there to help you from the man you wed.

Victor, sweet and gentile, was a beast. He shoved you into a nearby rosebush, and you sobbed as he tore your nightclothes from your trembling body. Never in the months you had been courting would you have ever imagined that he could be so brutish. Tears welled in your eyes, and the blood from your finger was smeared across his face from where you had tried to push him off of you.

Scratches littered your body, and you clutched the crook of your neck from where he had bitten into your supple skin. You whimpered as you felt the flat of his tongue lapping over the weeping cuts on your thighs. His hands gripped the plush flesh in a vice, and he spread them with a gratuitous groan.

"Oh darling, oh [name]," he murmured over and over again as he pressed hot, sloppy, open mouthed kisses to the available surface. In your chest, you could feel your heart break at the sight of how utterly depraved your lover was through the thin slivers of lights that showed off his feral expression. Through the darkness, you could still make out his flashing, toothy grin. His lips were caked with your blood, dripping like poisoned honey and planted across your legs and chest in kiss marks like it was some crude imitation of rouge.

The sound of clothing shuffling around reached your ears through the haze of burning pain and cold realization. What had you done? Who had you married? It was as if you were on some twisted mockery of a wedding night. The Victor you had pledged your vows to was not the one latching onto your neck once again. The bed of roses was that of your new consummation, and you wept as your husband stole the innocence of your soul.

He whispered sweet nothings with the grace of a snarling thing, and lined himself up with your entrance. You cried out in anguish as he took you swiftly. It was a violent affair. His slow, languishing style of making love to you was replaced by a feral, primal fucking. He clutched you tightly to him to save you for shredding your back as he thrust in you. He whispered your name reverently, and you begged him for mercy.

By the time he had gotten his fill of both your body and blood, you were on the verge of fainting and limp in his arms. Your vision was hazy and distorted, and your body bloomed with searing pain. You couldn't handle it for much longer, you hole sore and filled with his his essence, and you passed out with the white roses around you dyed with speckles of your lifeline.

When you awoke in the morning, the curtains were drawn tightly as they usually were during the day. Victor was kneeling over your bedside, his face twisted in worry.

"Darling!" He cried out and cupped your face the second he realized you were moving. You flinched from his now delicate touch, no sign of his claws, and he frowned.

"[Name]... oh my love, you must forgive me!" He said with adoring eyes and a saccharine smile. He grabbed your jaw more tightly than he ever would have before. Your entire body was covered in bandages, and you whimpered as he looked at you almost desperately. It was like he was forcing himself into the version of himself that you had become so comfortable around.

"It was a momentary lapse in judgement, though I must admit that I cannot promise it won't happen again," Victor sighed almost wistfully as he draped over your form in a mockery of an affectionate embrace. Instead it felt far too possessive and constrictive than anything he had subjected you to before. He inhaled your scent and buried his face against your hair. "You're far too sweet for me to show such restraint, my love," He laughed. He laughed like the previous night wasn't one of the most horrifying things you had ever encountered.

Maybe when you thought of him yearning for you like you were something he needed to live, perhaps you should've considered it much more harshly.

[crimeronan]

Oh, the great maker of trauma for the beans that are part of Princess Luz Au, heed my query and answer me:

Did Luz get any big bad evil guy energy or skill from being raised by the waste of space previously known as Belos?

I mean as we all know Luz is a precious bean, but I think she deserves to be a little evil towards bad people, like I assume that Hunter is already planning how to murder (or worse) Amity's parents, even if he isn't fully aware of it/is in denial that he is planning the horrors on the for making Amity, but I stay with me for a moment and imagine the verified cinnamon roll Luz Noceda Wittebane putting the fear of Titan into Odalia after learning that she abused Amity.

Also, her snapping out of it after Odalia faints out of fear (and pain), and panicking that she is just like below only for her parteners to be like, 'nooo~ it was hot normal and perfectly sane thing to do'.

this answer Might be disappointing in some ways, mainly: i don't Think luz would be physically violent with them without provocation, and i also don't think she's likely to lose emotional control around them. she'd want to be just as poised around amity's parents as she always was around belos and always is around the coven heads.

HOWEVER. as for the questions of "does luz know how to be scary" and "did she learn that from belos": UNEQUIVOCAL yes. to both.

i've been wanting to play with luz in this space with amity's parents for A While, actually, so. have a little fic :)

-

"Oh, Amity is my pride and joy," Odalia says, placing a hand over her heart. "I taught her everything she knows."

"Yes, I did get that impression." The Empress smiles, rising to her feet. "It's incredible how much she's accomplished in spite of you."

Odalia's breath catches around a shocked, bitten-down laugh. "Your Majesty, begging your pardon, I believe you meant 'because of-'"

"In spite of," Luz repeats, very firmly. "It's fortunate that Lilith Clawthorne has taken such an interest in her wellbeing."

Odalia's smile doesn't waver, but it does remain frozen for several seconds before she says, "I suppose Amity feels the need to invent an adversary. Some great trial she overcame to earn her place here. It's understandable. Children often lack the foundation to understand the sacrifices their parents make. She had a very privileged upbringing."

"Amity has never spoken unkindly of either of you," Luz says, although this she seems to mean more for Alador, whose face may give more away.

She steps lightly down the stairs from the throne, joining the pair of them on the ground. "Amity rarely speaks of either of you at all, actually. That isn't why I've called you here."

Odalia's voice turns cool, corporate. "Then how can we help you, Your Majesty?"

"Did you know that Blight Industries has a higher rate of workplace accidents than..." Luz slides a folder out of her tunic, flips it open, and raises her eyebrows. "...any other company on the Isles?"

This time, Odalia's laugh covers something else. "That's - that's preposterous. Our workplace safety records are excellent. Why, we haven't needed a single intervention by the Healing Coven in... oh, is it three years?" She taps the side of her mouth, frowning. "Four? Five?"

"That's fascinating," Luz says. "Not even for a scrape?"

"Abrasions heal quite well by themselves, given time."

"Absolutely fascinating," Luz repeats. "Did you know that it's illegal to purposefully deny people healing services?"

Odalia scoffs, incredulous. "For scrapes?"

"I know," Luz says pleasantly, "I was surprised, too. There are a lot of laws like that, it turns out. Text on paper that hasn't been enforced in half a century. From what I understand, this one is a holdover from early Empire anxieties. People were terribly worried about not having access to personal healing magic anymore. So healing services had to be protected."

Odalia's smile has become more teeth than pleasantry. "What a fun little history lesson. I'm sure you know all sorts of facts about the early Empire."

"It turns out that it's very easy to put laws in writing," Luz says, "without the intention to enforce them. My father, may the Titan bless him, had precious little interest in the rights of individuals to be seen by healers. But this isn't his Empire anymore. And I find the topic just captivating."

Odalia has stopped trying to hide her impatience, now. "So you'll fine us for not having healers on hand to wave away every little paper cut. That's fine. I apologize for the oversight. We'll settle up and make sure that going forward-"

"Mr. Blight," Luz says, ignoring Odalia entirely, "would you kindly remove your gloves for me?"

Alador startles.

Odalia doesn't glance at him. Her eyes are fixed unblinking on Luz. She speaks through her teeth, nearly a hiss. "Don't feel compelled to do that, dear."

"I assure you, I can compel him to do that," Luz says. Then, in a tone that would almost pass for apologetic if it wasn't so practiced, "I am sorry to compel it of you. I try not to compel my subjects very often. But if you find it difficult to remove your gloves, my scouts would be happy to assist you."

The scouts around the base of the throne don't move. Odalia's eyes slide uneasily over them anyway.

"That won't be necessary," Alador says, speaking for the first time. He pulls the gloves off without fanfare, holding up his hands.

Half of his left ring finger and pinky are conspicuously missing.

If Luz is uncomfortable with this revelation, she sure isn't showing it. "Oh, that's so interesting," she says, leaning forward to get a closer look. "The Healing Coven keeps meticulous records, and I'm certain a partial amputation was never reported to them. You were born with all five fingers, yes? I'm sure Amity will attest to that."

"This was from an accident in my personal lab," Alador says, with the mechanical precision of something rehearsed. "The severed digits were not... salvageable."

"It's so amazing that you were able to make that determination," Luz says, "without even needing to consult the Healing Coven. You must be a very proficient magician."

Alador blinks.

"Regardless," Odalia interrupts, "it happened outside of Blight Industries. The company isn't liable. You haven't 'gotten' us."

"Do you ever test Blight Industries products in your personal lab, Mr. Blight?"

"Prototypes," he says.

Odalia makes a sharp, exasperated gesture. "Alador!"

"That seems like company business to me," Luz says, still pleasant, still conversational. "Now, I will be fully transparent, before you accuse me of anything with regards to prejudice - it is true that I hate you both. It is true that I've hated you both for a while now. If you feel like I'm targeting you because I hate you, then you're very astute."

Odalia's fingers twitch, threatening to curl into fists.

Luz continues, "However, it's also true that there is no bias where my judgment is concerned. Not legally, anyway. So it doesn't matter whether I hate you or not. Whatever I decide to do with you is the Titan's will. Government is amazing."

Odalia exhales sharply.

When Luz doesn't waver, she shakes her head. For the first time, her voice cracks - properly cracks. There's a tiny tremble in her hands.

"Amity won't forgive you if anything happens to us," she says - but there's no bravado, no power, only pathetic uncertainty. "Regardless of any... petty grievances she may harbor. Family is everything to a Blight. She won't forgive this."

"I know that," Luz says. "I promise, I have no intention of doing Amity any unkindness. It's not her fault you two have chosen to be what you are."

Another sharp exhale. Odalia's breathing is ragged, audible. She's clearly not a woman accustomed to fearing for her own safety.

"That's fantastic news!" she chirps.

Luz's smile is beatific, magnanimous. The serene expression of someone who's never questioned the divine right of kings.

"Unfortunately, I'm not wholly opposed to doing an unkindness," she says, "if we can't seem to reach an agreement. It's really up to you how this goes."

She looks from Odalia to Alador and back, tilting her head.

"So. How badly do both of you want to live?"

[imaginedanvrs]

encrypted relations

part 6 l masterlist

summary: yelena belova x reader. when natasha takes you under her wing, she becomes like family, and the last thing you want is to lose that. but when you meet her younger sister who you know is off limits, you have to decide between what you really want and hope for minimal damage

word count: 3.4k

warnings: nothing, just platonic romantic fluff with a hint of angst at the end

Yelena scratched her fingers under Marty’s chin as the pair of them waited for you to reemerge from the small supermarket. You had been in there a while and the blonde was beginning to wonder if you had been somehow kidnapped in the building. She wouldn’t put it past you. Just as she was about to send you a text, you came out of the exit with your rucksack noticeably full. 

  “What took so long?” Yelena grumbled. 

  “I wasn’t even that long,” you defended as you started out of the parking lot. 

  “I thought you had been kidnapped,” she huffed. 

  “You said that when I took too long in the toilets last time we went out for lunch.”

  “Kate agreed with me,” Yelana stated.

  “It’s not my fault I got lost!” The blonde hummed thoughtfully. 

  “And you're leading the hike?” She queried. You shot her a dirty look that she merely grinned at. 

  “Don’t you trust me, Belova?” You nudged. 

  “I am just hoping that Marty is secretly the leader,” she said. Marty looked back at the blonde upon hearing his name. “Am I right?” Marty barked back. “Thank goodness,” Yelena muttered loud enough for you to hear. 

  “Ass,” you muttered back. 

  You made it to the start of the trail without digging into your snack supply too much, mainly due to Yelena scolding you for doing so, and made your way through the start of the forest. There was a light chill to the breeze that you knew you would be grateful for once you began to work up a sweat and enough sunshine to pak through the gaps in the trees. As you predicted, there weren’t that many people around due to it being a weekday morning so you let Marty off the lead to ‘scout ahead’ as Yelena called it, leaving the two of you to stroll side by side. 

  You didn’t talk much, not feeling the need to fill the comfortable silence that allowed you to focus on the scenery around you, until you felt Yelena’s familiar hand slip into yours. You were taken aback at first, risking a glance at the blonde who seemed tentative about her actions. You smiled, not saying anything, and interlaced your fingers with her own. It felt right. 

  “How often do you come out here?” Yelena asked as she watched Marty take interest in an oak tree. 

  “Whenever I get the chance, not as much as I used to though,” you answered. 

  “Why not?” 

  “I guess I used to come out here more when I needed to clear my head, around the time I met Nat actually, and I don’t tend to need that so much these days.” You could tell Yelena had some follow up questions there so you swiftly continued. “Besides, I don’t always have the time and I never want to drag Nat out here after her missions and Kate’s not good with nature and neither is Ava so,” you shrugged.

  “Is Ava the coworker?” 

  “That’s the one,” you nodded. A beat passed between you. 

  “She seems friendly,” Yelena noted, yet her tone seemed to suggest otherwise. 

  “Yeah, she’s also really into your sister.” Yelena looked like a deer caught in headlights. You chuckled and gave her hand a light squeeze.

  “That might be good for her, maybe if she got laid she wouldn’t interrogate me about my love life so much,” Yelena huffed. 

  “She does?” You queried, surprised that Natasha was actually so upfront about that with her sister. 

  “Everytime I see her,” Yelena grumbled. 

  “What do you tell her?” You asked, keeping your focus on Marty as he paused to wait for you to catch up. 

  “I tell her I have fun,” Yelena said simply. You nodded, not sure what to make of that summary. The blonde recognised your silence though perhaps misreading your mood. “I don’t tell her about you, don’t worry,” she insisted. 

  “Do you want to?” You didn’t think before you spoke. Yelena didn’t answer for a long moment, making you realise that you had never actually asked the blonde how she felt about keeping your secret from her sister. You never thought that, given how close they were, that might be an aspect of her life Yelena would want to share with her big sister. You had Kate to talk about it with, who did Yelena have? 

  “I don’t know,” she finally said, though she sounded unsure. 

  “Really?” You stopped, pulling on Yelena’s hand gently so that she paused as well. She looked to the floor and you lifted her chin with your thumb.

  “I want whatever you want,” she said, sounding almost too devoted. “Come on,” she smiled, pulling you back to the trail. “I want to see where this ledge is.” 

  “It’s just up there,” you pointed left to a steep hill half a mile away, struggling to forget the obvious signs that Yelena wasn’t as comfortable with your secret as you were, not that you were particularly enjoying it yourself. 

  Marty seemed to recognise the area because he started to dash on ahead until you called him back, cautious of him getting too excited by the ledge. He came back to your side promptly and you compromised with his eagerness by sprinting up the final stretch with him until you reached the top. The ledge overlooked the entire trail with a sea of trees beneath them and the city just beyond it. You could only hear the faint hum of New York if you listened closely for it, otherwise it was pure peace. 

  “This is a cool view,” Yelena stated as she gazed out. 

  You took your rucksack off and pulled out the flannel print picnic blanket that you had triple checked for before you left the apartment, and laid it down on the ground. Yelena joined you as you pulled out the food you had brought, some of which being new to the blonde, and got Marty’s water bowl that you filled with water. 

  “I’m sure you’ve seen some pretty cool views before this.”

  “Yes, I was always the best sniper so I always got the sights,” Yelena recalled somewhat fondly, as though they provided a silver lining in hindsight. “Lots of cities,” she added. 

  “What was your favourite?”

  “Amsterdam,” Yelena answered immediately. 

  “Did you go to the red light district?” You asked, only half joking.

  “Where else would I have been?” She deadpanned. “Our transportation was late so I got to go sightseeing a little.” 

  “I’m sure you got an eyeful,” you accused, making the blonde chuckle without denying anything. 

  “So what if I did, you would too,” she pointed out. 

  “If I ever go I’ll let you know,” you said. Yelena hummed as she rummaged through the snacks you brought. 

  “What is a twinkie?” Yelena questioned as she held up the packaged cake. 

  “Something you need to try if you're gonna stay in America,” you told her almost sincerely.  

  “Nat said she would bring me back food from England,” Yelena said as she opened the treat.

  “She better be bringing me some too!” You exclaimed. 

  “Perhaps I will share,” she considered. 

  “I can’t see you as the sharing type,” you grumbled. 

  “Depends how good it tastes,” Yelena muttered back. You bit back a smile.

  You spent some time with the blonde introducing her to the western foods she hadn’t yet tried, most of which she surprised herself by enjoying, while she pointed out the different species of birds that could be heard from the ledge. 

  “I never knew you were such a bird head,” you quipped. 

  “I thought this was basic knowledge,” she objected. 

  “The red room thought that was basic knowledge?” 

  “I can also identify types of snakes,” she said. 

  “That’s pretty cool,” you admitted. 

  “Snakes are very cool,” Yelena corrected. “I want one.”

  “I would come over to see that.”

  “Just to see that?” She asked, a small smirk playing on her lips. 

  “What else would I be there for?” You asked, a coy smile starting on your own lips. 

  “Maybe the owner of the really cool snake,” she replied, leaning closer to you. 

  “Well I guess she sounds like a fun person to hang out with too,” you muttered, placing a hand on the blonde’s cheek to pull her in for a tender kiss, both of you smiling. 

  “Come on,” you said as you pulled away. “There's a creek a little way North that Marty likes swimming in.” Yelena helped you pack up before you both made your way back down the hill with Marty starting on ahead, his tail whipping through the air frantically. 

  This time, you were the one to reach out and take Yelena’s hand, swinging it comfortably as you felt her give you a soft grin. “How does the assassin keep her hands so soft?” You queried aloud. 

  “It’s important to moisturise,” she said simply, enjoying the way you ran your thumb over the back of her hand. 

  You made it to the creek within an hour, comforted by the fact that it was entirely the same as the previous times you had visited. As you strolled down, you found the thick oak tree that had fallen over the creek what looked to be years prior and didn’t hesitate to climb onto it with Yelena close behind. You held out your hands steadily, cautious of any slippery spots and occasionally feeling Yelena’s hands on your waist to steady you. You made it to the middle and sat down, your shoes barely an inch above the water. 

  Marty stood several feet in front of you in the creek, unaffected by the gentle current that only reached his stomach in the deeper areas. You kept a watchful eye on him as you picked up the stick on the tree and threw it as hard as you could, making Marty go bounding after it. Yelena laughed lightly as she observed your dog find the stick with impressive ease and come bouncing back, surprising you both when he stood in front of the blonde to give her the stick. 

  “Does that mean he thinks I’m in charge?” Yelena asked as she took the stick and threw it back into the creek, getting it significantly further than you did. 

  “He has good intuition like that,” you said, taking your phone out to snap a couple photos of Marty running back. 

  “And you found him in a dumpster?” Yelena recalled. 

  “Yeah, he was being kicked out by a family of raccoons,” you said, remembering how you had been passing by the alley when you heard the commotion. 

  “And he protects you every night,” Yelena mused, throwing the stick again.

  “In his defence, he was injured at the time! I took him to the vet and… I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be good for both of us if he stayed with me. He seemed to agree,” you recalled. “He stopped my nightmares,” you added after a pause. 

  Yelena glanced your way for a second then looked back at the creek, considering her words. “What did you dream about?” She asked outright. You didn’t mind. 

  “I kind of used to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D before I started working for them,” you started. Yelena looked at you with a wide grin, seeming somewhat impressed. 

  “No way,” she laughed. “And they hired you?”

  “Thanks to Nat,” you nodded. “Anyway I used to pass on the information I found to some not great people and it got a lot of people hurt,” you explained, the guilt still present. “So I used to dream about what happened to them, because of me.” Yelena stared down at the water running beneath her, knowing that feeling of guilt all too well. 

  “You help people now though,” she said. “You made it work.”

  “Yeah,” you smiled. You had rebuilt your life the way you wanted it, you couldn’t dwell on past mistakes.

  You stayed by the creek until Marty eventually tired himself out and decided to head back. Yelena hopped down first, greeting Marty several steps ahead and giving you a chance to take your phone out again and take a swift photo of the blonde while she was distracted. You smiled at the moment you had captured and pocketed the device before Yelena noticed. 

  The blonde gave a dramatic cry of distress when Marty began to shake all of the water from his body while Yelena was standing too close. “You’re not ready for a dog if you didn’t see that coming,” you called to her. She gave you a middle finger in response as she wiped the droplets from her face. 

  “Now I’ll have to shower you both down,” you told her with a tut. 

  “I’m not sharing your shower time with your dog,” she told you with a glare though she held out her hand to take your backpack from you to give you a break.

  “Thank you for showing me this,” Yelena said.

  “Thanks for coming,” you shrugged. “I knew you would like it and you’re not bad company,” you quipped. 

  “You’re not so bad yourself, detka,” she smiled. You loved when she called you that, but you were admittedly more conscious of it since pondering the ethics of keeping what you and Yelena had a secret. 

“We’ll tell Nat soon,” you said suddenly. Tell her what you weren’t sure, having never used any label with Yelena before. “Just let me get my will finalised first.” Yelena gave you a soft smile that you got the impression from that she wasn’t entirely certain. 

  “We don’t have to,” she assured but that didn’t matter to you now that you knew how she really felt. You needed to ask Yelena what you would even tell her sister. It felt like you were more than friends with benefits but to say it aloud? To be the one to do it? You didn’t want to risk discovering you were wildly misreading your connection to Yelena. You didn’t want to be the one to admit you wanted to be more than that. You didn’t ruin what you hoped to someday look back on as your first date. 

~

You didn’t look up when you heard the six small wheels run across the floor in front of your desk followed by the dull thud of your coworker propping her elbows up next to your screen. She peered around to gain an awkward look at your work before setting her gaze on you. You cracked a smile but didn’t meet her gaze having been used to Ava’s interruptions since you first met her.

“You wanna come over to eat leftover pizza and watch cringy reality shows tonight?” She asked. 

  “I don’t even get fresh pizza?” You quipped. 

  “I’m too broke to spend on you,” she said with a grin until you swiped your hand out to knock her elbows off your desk. 

  “Some other time, Nat’s coming over tonight.” It had been a while since you had seen the redhead. She had been away for a few months which you had leant to be normal in the years that you had known her, but it didn’t mean you hadn’t missed the Russian. 

  “Tell her I say hi,” Ava smirked.

  “Stop trying to get in her pants, she’s too much of a workaholic to try that with,” you chuckled as you saved your latest report. 

  “As long as she’s not straight I can still work my magic.” 

  “Work it at Stark's next party,” you said with a pointed look. As much as you loved Ava, you weren’t going to spend your rare evening with Natasha as a wingwoman. 

  “Fine,” Ava huffed with a smile as she pushed herself back from your desk and wheeled back to her own in the office chair to grab her bag as you did the same. 

  The walk back to your apartment was as safe as they came. Once you reached the mainland, it was a ten minute walk to your apartment complex with every step of the way being unofficial S.H.I.E.L.D grounds just like your apartment. In some sense, it was a safehouse. Not all of its tenants were those that needed some precautionary protection, but they were all S.H.I.E.L.D personnel. 

  In your first year working at S.H.I.E.L.D it was mandatory that you lived in the building, partly as house arrest and partly from genuine concern. Though you had struck a deal with division that let you off lightly, there was still a trial period needed to ensure that you had the intentions you claimed you did. But they had also never found Rae. She never returned to your old apartment though occasional public security footage showed that she was still out there and able to avoid S.H.I.E.L.D with alarming ease. 

  After the first year, you were welcome to continue staying in the apartment building and Natasha had insisted that you should for your own safety. The redhead had given you various self defence lessons and encouraged you to take the ones S.H.I.E.L.D offered, then told you it was best to stay at the building for practicality. Then she had told you, in a less guarded tone, that she wanted you to be safe. That protectiveness had only grown over time. 

  When Natasha arrived, she brought with her a six pack of beers which you knew meant a lot of catching up. “Hey, flash drive,” she said as she hugged you in the doorway, holding on for a second longer than usual despite holding the pack. Yeah, she had a lot to catch you up on and she wasted no time in doing it. 

  “Then, being the dumbass she is, she put her batons together and shoved them into the propeller! Luckily I had a parachute pack on and got to her quick enough to get it on her otherwise I would have been so pissed at her!” Natasha exclaimed before taking the final swig of her beer. 

  “She sounds badass,” you input as you tried to visualise everything Natasha described. Her little sister sounded like somewhat of a firecracker and you were dying to see that in person. Maybe it was just the alcohol in your system, but Natasha made Yelena sound like someone you definitely wanted to get a drink with. 

  “I’m sure you two would get on great,” Natasha said as she rolled her eyes with a small smile. 

  “I hope I do meet her soon, I want to hear all about what you were like as a kid,” you admitted. Natasha shook her head as her smile widened, though a second too long passed for her to think about how things weren’t always good. You knew this, she had told you before. Once you had told Natasha about your time living with Rae, she had decided to share that vulnerability and tell you about the red room. So to hear that the redhead and her sister had been able to give them such a blow? You were thrilled for her. 

  “She’s helping the other widows now, the ones we couldn’t get to.” You hummed, thinking about the scale of what Yelena was taking on. “I told her I would help as much as I can but…” she gestured around. 

  “The rest of the world needs you to,” you shrugged, knowing that was what she meant. 

  “I wouldn’t be back if I wasn’t so sure I was leaving it in safe hands,” Natasha admitted. “I just hope she's not doing anything I wouldn't do, especially with Alexia there to encourage her.” 

  “You wouldn't be happy if she did some of the things you do actually do,” you pointed out. 

  “That's different!” She exclaimed with a laugh. “I have a lot of big sister nagging time to make up for! Just wait until she has her first girlfriend.” Oh? 

  Natasha must have noticed you taking note of that because she tapped your cheek with the back of her index finger. “Don't even think about it,” she warned with a knowing smile, making it impossible to tell if she was joking or not. You were about to ask, but Natasha was reaching for the TV remote. “And you better not have been watching Survivor without me.”

[bonnymori]

Captain's food rolls

A/N: This is me trying out writing again, seeing the scene where Kid and Luffy eat a bunch of mochi in Udon gave me an idea. This work feels very goofy for me lol, this whole post is silly, including the pics, I think I'm gonna use this format for now

Word count: 1,3k

Contents/Warnings: Silliness ahead, two lovers being silly. Next up is a law draft ig, either law or killer or heat

The sand under your boots is a comforting contrast from the crass waves of the sea, rumbling and coming near your feet - but not reaching quite yet.

It's unusual, but today is a great day, after a great battle against many marine ships, that you honestly wouldn't dare count, the Kidd pirates share a feast and drinks in a pacific island (even though Kidd scored the secluded place with no 'pacific' methods).

What is unusual, you would ask? Well, normally on the day-to-day of the Kidd pirates, meals are fulfilling, but not so much as to be bloated after eating. Of course, the massacre soldier – and crew's chef – Killer goes great lengths to make sure every member eats well and has a chance of asking for more, but still, in the sea you can ever eat so much, food needs to be watched so the ship doesn't run out again.

In a banquet, though, it's highly different.

The other pirates were kind – terrified – enough to make the beach look very presentable, placing up lighting upon the coconut trees and laying out tables for your friends to enjoy. It looks like some sort of luau, an illuminated beach next to the pitch black ocean, with lots of barbecued meat and endless pitchers of beer. The crew is scattered over the place, most of them are still eating, a few went down the city to find a pretty face to sleep with, and some of them who've had enough of eating are busy playing cards, such as Heat and Wire – you can always observe how they finish eating together, and go kill time together, it's a heartwarming friendship (or more?) between pirates, very similar to the captain and his right hand man.

Speaking of which, during these celebrations, the captain's table is always at the center, a big round table where he can lay down plates and food to scarf down as the night goes on. You observe the captain, aka your lover, fill his belly with delicious meat and booze, a small smile forming on your lips as you know what to expect when the party ends.

It's when something unusual happens, and you can't help but feel giddy.

"Your social energy has ended already, Y/N?" A pair of crewmates join your table, more specifically Hip and Emma, who also seem to huddle together whether to dance or eat during the feasts.

"I guess yes, you always come to a more far away table when you get tired of partying around." Emma answers Hip's query herself, bringing her beer mug to toast with yours, which differently than hers, is almost empty. She observes the small grin plastered on your face and chuckles, "I bet you were looking at the captain just now."

"My, you caught me red-handed." They both giggle at your comment, and you prop your chin on your hand, thinking of a good response, "You know I can't help it, he always looks pretty cute and round after eating so much."

"Yeah, when that happens he can't be rough around the edges anymore, afterall he won't have any edges!" Hip exclaims then covers her mouth to laugh, pulling Emma with her to Wire's table, "We're gonna gamble too, see you Y/N!"

You wave bye-bye to the duo, they are so very sweet.

As they walk away, you glance yet again at your beloved Kidd only to see that he has given up eating to chug on a few pitches of beer, excitedly talking to Killer in the process. Since you don't like approaching while he's eating – it's so messy he's akin to a piggy – you decide to go see him now, just because you'd like to kiss him bye-bye before you retire to the ship.

He doesn't seem to notice when you appear, planting a kiss on his goggles-free forehead, "Hi Kiddo, having fun so far?"

"Heck yes babe, I'm stuffed, and not even done yet." The redhead doesn't even mind the affection, too buzzed and full to protest. You look down, and it looks like he's already displaying a little belly.

You gasp lightly when his arm loops around your waist, your own arms embracing his shoulders and bringing his head closer to give him another kiss, this time in the top of his head – which he happily leans into, after all his hair is a soft spot.

To think about it, from this angle above, his hair really looks like a tulip.

He seems to indulge in your kisses, the alcohol making him loose to public displays of affection.

"Okay okay," You say while pulling him off from you, his arm is bulky but he's weaker from the beer, "I came to tell you I'm heading to the ship to take a short nap. See you later lov."

His eyes blink open, staring at you for a short moment where he lets you go with a 'okey' – you think he got the memo just fine.

Your trek to the ship is quickened by your jumpy strut.

Nap well taken, you've decided to wait for your lover on the deck, knowing very well most of the crew must be passed out on the beach, whether it be the sand or upon the tables or chairs, some would even sleep over the grill so as not to lay on the ground – you can think of a few that would be laying on the tables as well. The point is, nobody really could bother you both at this moment.

Oh lawd he's coming, is your first thought, spotting a big red dot far from the ship, walking with no difficulty yet swaying nonetheless, you just know Kidd is going to have a killer hangover tomorrow.

It's unusual, only happening during the days he feels famished enough to eat for three people in one sitting, his tough muscles disappearing under the new gained weight, how he does it, you cannot know.

But every time you think, he looks so cute.

Your big, angry boyfriend now turned into a big, round boyfriend climbs the plank ladder that leads up on the deck, stopping only once he is a few steps away from you.

There, he flops on the floor, sitting as he looks at you expectantly, knowing damn well that you like his softness when he's chubby like this.

"It's fucking weird the fact you think I look… nice like this." Eustass is the first to break the silence, avoiding the word 'cute' as he huffs at you. It seems his angry act is back, now that he might be a little sober.

Kid groans at your giggle of amusement.

"You look so squishy and soft, I can't help but love your rolls." You walk over to him and make yourself comfortable at his side, resting your head on him but not your weight, or else gastric reflux could a bitch about it at any moment.

He rolls his eyes and looks away with a small blush, his arm looping over your waist much like in the party – at this point, this action feels so familiar to you, you can almost feel it when it comes next. "Satisfied?"

"Very much." You chuckle at him, and silently, sneak your hand up to squeeze one of his chubs.

The big red lets out a yelp caused by the unexpected action, glaring angrily at you. "Hey!"

Even though his tough act, on the inside, Kidd was actually happy to receive free affection, being the selfish bastard he is. At the same time, he couldn't be more relieved, knowing that you could have reacted the opposite of this, and thankfully, you had not. And he loved you for it. But of course, he'd never say that even in a million years.

Eventually, the both of you stilled, the playful bicker coming to an end as the sea waves filled in the silence.

Now there are only two lovers, sleeping soundly side to side.

And content smiles on their faces.

[wilderebellion]

Mentopolis: Wordplay for Episodes 1 and 2

(One for episodes 3 and 4 will be coming)

Cerebell Pacific - The cerebellum is a part of the brain that affects motor control and, to some extent, cognitive functions. In the city of Mentopolis, this is where the Synaptic Switchboard resides. Older telephones utilized switchboard systems. The name is a play on one of the real life telecommunications companies that formed under the Bell System. [Side note: Pacific Bell became AT&T California and Bell Atlantic became Verizon.]

Occipital Park - Occipital means related to the back of the head. The occipital lobe has several areas related to vision. Possibly a play on New York's Central Park.

Cortex City - The cortex of the brain handles higher functions like consciousness. The cortex has 4 lobes: frontal, parietal, temporal, and occipital, which seem to be a LOOSE basis for the mapping of the city's districts. It is NOT a one-to-one correlation, though. Many famous cities are nicknamed as ____ City, such as Empire City (NYC) or the Windy City (Chicago).

Motor City - A section of Mentopolis that corresponds to the limbic system. This area contributes to behavior, memory, emotions, motivation, etc. Also the nickname of Detroit due to the automotive industry.

Imelda Pulse - (Impulse) Her family is influential, not simply because they are "old money" but because they are among the few who can directly influence The Big Guy. The Pulses may have been here before the city was founded, which I took as referring to the stages of fetal development. Imelda herself is prone to being reckless in an impulsive sense, to both positive and negative effect.

Hunch Curio - (Curiosity) He's a private detective motivated by curiosity, and eager to answer questions. He isn't always the deepest thinker; he tends to take a pretty simple approach. His body of work is built on answering pretty much any query that crosses his path. Unlike Danielle's character, he seems to thrive on the "puff piece" mysteries that she's grown tired of, and they often run into each other while working. To their mutual frustration.

A real swingin' dick - Fun wordplay here. A shorthand way to refer to a detective, typically a private investigator (see the Theme song for Shaft). It is also, of course, a slang term for male genitalia. Makes for easy double entendre: Hunch is a real on-the-move, following-the-clues professional, and/or he maybe has a big penis.

The Fix - (Hyperfixation) A fixer of situations. The Fix eliminates distractions, as requested by the DA's office, that could compromise The Big Guy's work. He's not only efficient, but he LIKES his job, weirdness and all. He is honest, straight-forward, and genuinely nice most of the time. He has a fondness for children though he's not instantly better at interfacing with them compared to adults.

Mark Bition - (Ambition) Can we PLEASE talk about the detail of that TIE, though?! It's doing so much for not only the art composition, but also just informing the personality of the character. Like, yes, obviously, homeboy's the District Attorney, he travels in a fancy car with a souped up engine, is well-dressed, etc. HE WEALTHY. His stocks and social status are on the RISE! But there's also a slightly unnerving, possibly sinister undertone to him. That arrow-esque tie not only evokes rising wealth, but also kinda resembles a devilish tail.

Don Avaricci - Part of the criminal underworld. Avarice is greed. His enforcers/thugs/goons include Roscoe Hungry, Johnny Gullible, and Simon Praise, to name a few. Per the Adventuring Party for "The Scattered Mind", Brennan indicated this crime family is all "appetites" of a kind.

Conrad Schintz - Con Schintz (Conscience) Conrad is a "too small" boy living on the streets and selling newspapers. He's the under developed moral compass for Elias Hodge; he has an inkling of what good and bad decisions are but has reservations about speaking up.

Justin Fication - (Justification) The only part of Elias' mind that isn't humanoid. Which is sort of a fascinating choice - that the part of his mind that requires REASON is remarkably intelligent, but also the most animal-like. If Justin is somehow a manifestation of Conrad's who goes away when the kid starts to grow up I will lose it

Anastasia "A" Tention - (Attention) As a reporter at the Daily Observer, it's pretty straightforward that she's got a keen eye. What sets her apart from Hunch is she's after the Bigger Picture and things making sense. She's less prone to instigating violence, but she can keep her cool under pressure

While we see the first name Anastasia on the character card, I noticed Danielle mostly refers to her character as A. Later conversation suggests she is a less well-known relative of the Pulse family, which might make her name originally A. Pulse.

A Pulse -- > Being "on the pulse" of something means to "be aware of the latest things happening" about a topic, which lends itself very well to a reporter.

It's possible the names Anastasia and Imelda were chosen because they sound uppercrust, or because of their connections to influential families. More literal name meaning seems less likely at this juncture, but with D20 anything is possible. (While Anastasia is related to resurrection, the name Imelda is related to an all-consuming fight or powerful battle)

Anastasia's file number is 001, and Imelda's is straight up ?? - I got a little lost in the sauce a few days ago trying to analyze everyone's file numbers. At first, Imelda's seems like a fun nod to her being the "mysterious" femme fatale type - and yet, because of the genre and how talented Siobhan is, I'm now instantly suspicious that some other shoe is going to drop. Like she's secretly working for the DA or Don Avaricci or something to obfuscate the mystery.

Norrell Ojiccle - (Neurological) Murder victim, employee at Cerebell Pacific for the Switchboard. Seemingly an average brain citizen. He may have sought out the prohibited Oxytocin at Sugah's due to loneliness. His death is quite possibly the first domino in an onset of Depression for Elias Hodge, or something more complicated. Also, he has four arms. I'm not letting that art detail go until we get a crew Adventuring Party for this season. His file number refers to the police code for a murder.

Daniel Fucks - Proprietor of Sugah's, and the go-to guy for pleasures and delights, carnal or otherwise. The pleasure center of Elias Hodge's brain.

Sugah's - Located in the pleasure center of the brain. The name refers to sweets. In this setting, this is the speakasy/club where you come to find something to feel good. Pleasures could be based in anything one might find enjoyable, but the establishment seems to be popular as of late because of the prohibited substances due to city ordinances.

Donna Fucks and Club Spice - Due to improv worldbuilding from episode 2, these may now exist. Donna is the sister (possibly twin?) to Dan, based on the correlation between pain and pleasure. She runs a parallel club (possibly with more adult themes) and works even more than Dan does.

Leon Logic - Mayor of Cortex City. Insistent upon how much "sense" his campaign makes. His abbreviated name L. Logic could suggest illogic - though this is not confirmed. Maybe he's just the "face" or "mouthpiece" of the leadership structure, and someone else is coming up with the "big plans" for Elias.

Hans Schadenfreude - (Do I really have to explain this one? Avenue Q has a whole song about it) Okay fine - coming from the wonderful German language, this refers to deriving pleasure from the misfortune of others. Every Hans interaction is S Tier, he's probably my new fave Brennan NPC.

Libby Longshower - She's the waitress at Sugah's, which suggests she's some kind of pleasure. She might be a simple one, the feeling of luxuriating under hot water. Her name might also be a nod to the more physical self-pleasures that one someone might enjoy and it results in a long shower. Her file text describes her as one "steamy" tomato and her file number might be a reference to a police code for lewd conduct.

Joey Sneezes - Seems to be a specific type of pleasure, the relief of a good sneeze.

Oblongata Station - The Medulla Oblongata is where your brain and nervous system connect. It has a lot of functions, which makes sense why the stationmaster in Mentopolis has so many different levers to access certain functions. The trains seem to operate along the nerve connections. The stationmaster's name is Max Medulla [although I think the character file spelled it with one "l".]

Chief Alexander Tightass - Literally A Tightass. The uptight chief of police. Works in conjunction with the DA's office but only within the bounds of the law. He's not immune to temptation (see flirting with Dan Fucks) but he doesn't give in to it. He's very committed to his job, much like Elias has been for Gobstopper Industries.

Donny Urges - An urge/desire/impulse that seems to have become an Intrusive Thought. Now neutralized.

Freddy Focus - Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Observer. He has one big eyeball which is also the logo for the newspaper. He seems to intense but limited perspective - he prioritizes urgency and short-term developments over the "bigger picture" stuff. Maybe the one eyeball also indicates this lack of perception.

Receptors - Not really a pun, but they function much like post office workera or message couriers. Different receptors report to different authorities: Wilton, for instance, answers to Dan Fucks.

Millie and Ollie - Workers at the memory bank which is the library of the Hippo Campus.

Wilton - An elderly pleasure receptor from the genitalia. His appearance is a reference to "blue balls" and his name is clearly a play on "wilting" as in a flaccid penis.

Shock troops - Also known as assault troops in the real world, they are formations to lead an attack. In Mentopolis, they are a personification of actual Shock following a trauma. They jump into action to silence pain through violence and arrest.

[sneap-sneap]

Missy’s Idea, pt 1

Heyyyy, this is the little thing I wrote! It involves Martin, who is a stuffed animal cat who likes to overfill himself, and his friend/sort-of girlfriend Missy, a flesh-and-blood cat.

———————————————————————

“What does it feel like?”

Missy’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice, and she turned to give him a look. “Martin, that’s so vague I don’t know how you expect me to answer-“

“I mean, what does being really full feel like to you?” Martin asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Missy absentmindedly scratched her side with a claw, her paw moving towards her belly as she considered. “I guess…it has a lot to do with the pressure. When you’ve eaten a lot, it’s really tight and you feel really stretched out.”

Martin squinted at her. “Well, I know what it feels like to be stretched. My stomach can stretch wayyy more than yours!”

“Martin, you do not have a stomach.” Missy rolled her eyes. “You’re basically a cloth bag of cotton fluff. It’s way different when it comes to an actual gastrointestinal system.” She paused for a second, and Martin looked at her in curiosity. He was used to being somewhat dismissed, but it seemed like she was really considering his question. Martin watched her rub her paw up and down her belly. She pushed the soft fur back and forth along the curve, somewhat more swollen than normal but nowhere near her maximum. It made sense, her interest in his query. Her belly-focused activities with Martin were some of the few times he saw her show her actual feelings—a rarity for the standoffish cat.

Missy looked at him, interrupting his thoughts.

“There are more…stakes when I’m the one overeating. I think that’s what makes it so thrilling to me? I could get sick, or get a bellyache, or indigestion, whatever. Trying to stay on the balance of discomfort and pleasure is really exciting. Also, I don’t know, your body pushing back against what you’re doing to it? Like, your body will stretch basically however you want. To get this gut-“ she patted her stomach “-anywhere near the size of yours, I have to force it to go against what my body is telling it. My instincts are telling me, ‘that’s enough,’ but I’m disobeying them and gorging myself even further. That disobedience is reallllly fun.” Missy grinned, showing her sharp canines. Martin felt a little thrill run through him.

“It feels really heavy too. You can’t swallow liquid or anything, cause you’ll get moldy, but especially with liquid there’s a density that makes the sensation of being full extra strong. You’re just so…weighed down by your own gluttony. Plus it’s really bubbly and gurgley when I chug something carbonated. Sometimes I can sort of feel the bubbles moving around, and I know you like listening to them. Not to mention the feeling of cool liquid hitting your stomach, especially if you’ve been eating something warm. That’s a little shocking of a sensation and, I don’t know how, but it always makes me feel so much more stuffed than before.”

Missy’s cheeks were tinging pink, Martin noticed. It might be possible that she liked this…hobby? Interest? of his more than he had expected.

“Also, when my paws, or your paws are pressing against my belly, there’s so much more resistance than there is with the stuffing you use.” Missy squirmed a little in her seat. She demonstrated by poking her abdomen, pressing on about an inch with some effort. “Especially if I’m really packed full, especially if you helped me keep going and keep eating way after I was satisfied, my belly gets pretty hard. I guess you’ve probably noticed; you’ve touched me a lot. But pushing into my full belly isn’t like squishing yours. Although that’s really fun too. You’re pretty much always soft, but my belly is so…substantial, so solidly packed and attached to my body, like I’ve made it that way, I put so much inside of me that it hurts, I disregarded my internal messages to stop and therefore put myself in a position that’s sort of taboo in a way. It’s so good, Martin. It feels so good.” Missy’s pupils were dilated as she studied him, and Martin suddenly felt as examined as the initial question had been.

“I wonder…” Missy trailed off, obviously thinking hard. “I have an idea! Martin, wait here.”

She hopped up from the couch and went into another room, leaving a confusedly almost-aroused Martin. After a few minutes and some rummaging noises, she came back with a belt and a corset. She dumped these on his lap and ran off again, returning with a huge bag of rice.

“So. Martin.” Martin felt a tingling sensation when she said his name like that. Like he had something coming for him. Something good, but knowing Missy, something really intense.

“I’m gonna put this belt and corset on you, so you can feel the tightness, and then I’m going to fill you to bursting with rice. I always feel so heavy after eating rice, so I think you’ll really get a sense of how it feels to be a little helplessly full.” Missy’s eyes had a mischievous but genuine glint, and Martin couldn’t resist his curiosity.

“Okay.” He said, grabbing her paw and putting it on his belly. She flushed under her fur. “Fill me up.”

[nostalgebraist]

@dubreus replied to your post “it's going to be fun to watch the realization...”:

this seems like a very straightforward bet that you could specify the terms simply, and also one where you're obviously wrong.  how about "on mar 1, 2024, will (bing/google) show RLHF GPT results on the main (bing/google) search page, for 50% of users for 50% of search queries?"  bet you 85% that they do.

Sure, I'll take that bet. DM me?

That said, the OP does not imply any specific forecast like this. We should be clear about the difference between

The right answer to the question "do 'people want' RLHF GPT search?"

Whether or not the companies in question will eventually converge on the right answer (whatever it is), given enough time

In the case where they are initially wrong, how much time it will take them to converge

What a change in this belief would look like in terms of publicly visible behavior

My OP was about taking a position on 1, with 2 as a background assumption.

Insofar as it took any position on 3, it was a mixture of explicit but vague ("slowly"), and implicit and sort of trivial ("not so slowly we will never observe it"). And in any case, taking these positions was not the point of the post.

It took an implicit position on 4 ("some relatively unambiguous signal"), but mainly as a background assumption akin to 2, about companies not being arbitrarily irrational. This also was not the point of the post.

This is very different from the positions taken by the party on either side of your bet. I'm happy to do that too, but as an additional thing, not as an operationalization of my post.

[manor-tea-time]

do you ever wonder about your life? Hm… What’s a moment you cherish?

— 🦋

AAAA This was a really fun one! I enjoyed thinking about their thoughts on life in a more philosipal lens! Thank you Butterfly! :D

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Wayne -(-⊕ ζ ⊕-)< :

Wayne blinked, processing the question for a moment before speaking. "I do often reflect on many aspects of my life... mainly how unlucky I seem to be with my choices in the long run." The lampsmith made a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. Hesitance more than evident on his face and in his voice as he spoke. "Specifics are often hard in that regard for me. Apologies."

"As for what I cherish, I suppose the close bonds I have with others. I find it something that brings a warm glimmer of comfort to me... even in the most bleak of moments."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Ivy ξ(❁) ⊕) ξ:

"What a interesting question for such a dainty creature to ask. Although, I'd imagine thats qutie ironic coming from me, Huhuhu!" The Costume Maker held up a hand to her face as she giggled. "To answer your query, I often question how my life might have led if certain things weren't scarred for good so to speak. I suppose a good example is if my mentor was actually here - or even alive for me to speak to."

"Its all listless dreaming on my part. Nothing quite ment to be held all too seriously I assure you." She shrugged, waving a hand dissmissively. "As for what I cherish, I'd have to say its my positive memories. They tend to make me stronger when I have to face a negitive one."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

LeRoy 🗝️>(⊖▼⊗´)•ζ :

"Often when I take walks in the mornings. The quiet mornings out there coupled with your thoughts tends to allow them to wander a bit." He chuckled. "Its quite nice sometimes. Although, in the terms of your question, I suppose it may be a little more sad as my thoughts often drift to escaping this place. I'm unsure if it would even be possible to return to life as I knew it... Its a little discouraging."

"Ah! However, I do have many of my prized possessions here with me. I find it quite hard for a memory of someone to die if you have something that reminds you of them." He grinned. "Watches, rings, scrapbooks of photos, I cherish those memories and people greatly."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Delilah Ⴑ(‘❁◡❁’)Ⴑ:

"Well, yeah. Of course I do - who doesn't is a better question." Delilah lightly teased. "I've had many questions to myself as I've been stuck here. I sometimes wonder if I should have tried to do things like reconsile with my family before this all happened. Would that have helped my case here in any way? Would it have made it worse? I don't think I'll get to know."

"On the brighter note of cherishings, I do appreciate being able to continue my art here regardless of the circumstance. I also appreciate the uh - community this place has. I certainly don't feel insane for any paranormal encounters I have. Most of the time people have seen worse!"

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Pip (◼⊗_⊗’)/* :

"Yeah." Pip mumbled, picking at a loose thread on his cloak. He'd need to fix that later. "Sometimes I wonder if I'd cause less trouble if I liked the subjects my parents deemed impressive or smart. Not that that matters much now, but it would be nice to know if they could be happy together again."

"I enjoy what I create and share with others. Storytelling is just so much more fun with company to react to the good parts with you."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Miss Manni (,◡ _ ◡,):

"Oh, dear what an interesting question." Miss Manni tilted her hand into her palm, taking a moment to think. "I do. I'm often meloncolic about my life in the past, what could have been, and simply what is now. Its always quite the debocle to figure out why my fate led itself to here."

"Although, I must say, I do treasure the many faces I've gotten to meet over my new chance at life. The additional freedoms from certain societal standards has been quite the needed vacation for myself as well in a way. Its strange to think of a place like this in that light though, isn't it huhuhu!"

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Eleanor (´⬬_⬬`)< :

"I think of a lot of things. I often have time to reflect." Eleanor said, pausing for a moment as they set their pet rat down before they continued. "People's motivations, forgotten contexts hidden in memories, and much more. I wish to know how they'd change my views on my past."

"I appreciate the stage along with the new friends I have aqquired here."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The Shadowed Man /++ ◡ ++\:

"Hrmmmm... why yes, little butterfly. I do." A layered laugh echoed from the shadow as they tapped their hand upon their cane. "Although, I'm afraid I've existed far too long for such reflections to particularly make a interesting impact on me like the one you'd like."

"As for cherishings, I quite enjoy when humans have someting uniqe they bring to my interactions with them. Not only will it entertains us both, but it makes their pitiful existence so much more memorible."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

[tekeruthechaotictrap]

Lament of a Nobody (Chapter 5)

Meeting Calvin "Freckle" McMurray

Yet again Ivy finished dragging John to another stranger to the Russian Blue. This time someone with a young face accompanied by Rocky, who would immediately recognise John.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Purple pants!"

"I thought I told you not to call me that" John would say already annoyed.

"Oh that's right, you mentioned you met Rocky already. So that means I just have to introduce you to one person!" Ivy would exclaim, rushing towards the ginger and grabbing onto his arm. "This is Calvin, though we tend to call him Freckle! He's Rocky's cousin and my boyfriend!"

Calvin meekly waved at John and uttered a small "Hello, nice to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you too Calvin." John would reply.

"He's pretty quite, but just as cute!" Ivy would say, causing Freckle to blush. "He's also pretty new here too, so you've got something in common!"

"So what is your job than Calvin?" John queried.

"Freckle here's our muscle!" Rocky would reply before Freckle could even attempt to. "I know my cousin here doesn't look like much, but he's great with a gun. You should see him out there! Just..." Rocky would proceed to make juvenile gun sound affects while miming out some shooting, before laughing maniacally.

"I... see..." John would say, clearly quite perturbed. "Could have let the man answer for himself, but I suppose at least I know now."

"Yeah Rocky, let him answer for himself. Got anything you want to add Freckle?" Ivy would say.

Freckle opened his mouth for a few seconds, before closing it again and shrugging.

"Well..." Ivy muttered. "Ummm. Oh! He's also quite the handyman! It's not his job but he does like fixing things up."

"Y-yeah. It gives me something good to do when there's nothing else." Freckle would state.

"A useful skill for sure, saves money one could waste hiring another to help." John would say. Giving a small, polite smile.

"Glad to see this is at least going smoother than it did with Viktor." Ivy would say. "Unlike that conversation you boys seem to be getting along just fine.... well, by you boys I mean Freckle and John. Something tells me John and Rocky's relationship is well... Rocky, for lack of a better word."

"We had an altercation-" John said.

"He made me fall to the ground!" Rocky interrupted, causing John to glare at him for a few seconds.

"However, I am willing to ignore that for the sake of having an amicable environment at work here." He continued.

"Glad to hear it my compatriot! Truce then?" Rocky would say, going for a handshake.

"Yes, I suppose so." John would say, returning the handshake.

"Did.... did you get any of that Freckle?" Ivy asked.

"Most I got is they fought. And I guess they're making up now?" He replied.

"Well at least they're getting along now! Gonna make life for John here that much easier!" Ivy said walking towards John and playfully nudging him. "Welcome to the Speakeasy! I promise you'll have a lot of fun here!"

The 4 of them continued to mingle for a few minutes in casual conversation. They seemed to be getting along well, welcoming the new colleague. Allowing a living question mark into their lives.

"Come on!" Exclaimed Ivy. "Not even a little clue about what your real name is?"

"Of course not Ivy, what would be the point of an alias otherwise!" John would reply.

"John Doe?" A small voice would speak out from outside the quartet, it was Horatio. John turned to him. "Mrs M wants to see you to give you your first job. She wants you to see her in her office."

"Alright, thank you Horatio." John would say, straightening his fedora. "Well I suppose I must go for a few minutes, pleasure to meet you all."

Ivy, Freckle and Rocky all returned the sentiment leaving John to go towards Mitzi's office.

[matchmadeinsevenhells]

different anon, but I love ComW, so definitely ready to plague you with questions:

- was Maegor’s unwilling hunt Rhaena, and did it involve her trying to kill him like in canon?

- was it a spur of the moment decision for Aemond when Luke walked in or is this something he’d been planning for a while? It definitely seemed like Luke could have easily been killed when Vhagar killed Arrax, so not sure how much thought went into it.

- Would Aemond actually realise the potential fallout or did he just not care?

- Is there any significance to the legitimacy of the ceremony (Valyrian-tradition wise - obviously there’s a lot else that might be queried about it from a Westeros point of view) to the fact that Luke didn’t say the words? Or is Aemond right when he says that his win is all that matters?

- Who hunted who out of Corlys and Rhaenys?

- You’ve already answered about Luke’s mother, stepdad and brother, but how would his Velaryon relatives react?

- Exactly how much stress is Alicent under rn?

(Again talking about my my dead dove Lucemond marriage hunt fic, cut off my wings (and lock me up) )

Adhsjdhshsjsjsj I’m so excited to get even more love for my fic!! ComW is really close to my heart (will you believe it’s my first mostly-explicit dead dove/nc,,,) so 🥺🥹😭 thank you!!

You’re dead right about Maegor and Rhaena 😬 she eventually had Dreamfyre surrender when the “escape by being faster” plan failed, because her dragon wasn’t a match against Balerion. Then she immediately tried to shank Maegor. (I think he also did hunts with his other Black Brides, but if only one party has a dragon it’s mostly. Uh. A very terrifying experience for the person on foot and like, a chill fun afternoon activity for the dragonrider…)

Aemond has definitely been obsessed with SOME sort of revenge on Luke for a looooong time (which lol is canon). At first those thoughts included mostly maiming and murder, but then he stumbled across an old Valyrian tome/read a lot about Maegor—and well, he got some Ideas (tm) that grew over the years. I’d say he wasn’t truly decided yet/picky, as long as he got his revenge in the end, but the Storm’s End situation—no one of their families there—was too perfect to NOT do it the marriage hunt way. (And as he said, Luke being alive but utterly miserable and humiliated is better revenge in his mind than “just” killing him.) and yes, killing another dragon without killing the rider is rather difficult, but what helped in this situation was that they were already pretty close to the ground, Luke having directed Arrax lower earlier, and also that Vhagar was so much bigger than Arrax. Though yeah Aemond was having the Time Of His Life and probably would’ve been fine with it if that had killed Luke, too.

And no, once he got into it Aemond didn’t stop to consider any potential fallout.

Technically, a hunt is supposed to conclude with the Valyrian/Targaryen ceremony that Rhaenyra and Daemon used in canon to wed each other, BUT since there were no witnesses to the actual hunt anyway and it is extremely obvious that Aemond did in fact win (and consummate), it’s still hard to question the legitimacy. The Blacks are going to do that anyway, of course, but yeah.

… I decided that Rhaenys hunted Corlys because she was the one with a dragon—but Corlys got to take a ship. He got a headstart too, and it was probably mostly hide and seek and/or they previously agreed on location that had to be reached within a certain timeframe? It was close, in the end, close enough to satisfy both their prides.

Speaking of, Rhaenys and Corlys are absolutely PISSED at Aemond, too. Having-to-keep-Rhaenys-from-getting-on-Meleys-to-challenge-Aemond-pissed. Corlys shares the sentiment but he’s trying to advocate for just wiping the floor with all the Green forces in the field.

Alicent has ALL The Stress rn. All of it. Her favourite son just did something that’s really difficult to reconcile with her own faith, also has a potentially devastating impact on the public opinion the Greens are kinda basing Aegon’s claim on, and probably made sure the Blacks are even less likely to consider terms as they would’ve been if Luke had simply been killed. They can’t even use Luke as a proper hostage because Aemond is now firmly in camp “only I may torment my pretty little wife”…. Alicent is working triple overtime to SOMEHOW try to keep a grip on public opinion. Meanwhile Aegon is throwing feasts at which everyone has to treat Luke as they would a “normal wife” to a Targaryen Prince. RIP.

[cloudbattrolls]

Breadcrumbs

Jameth Abnale | Present Night

Jamie tapped his fingers against the warm metal of his laptop, thinking.

It had been a few nights since the attack, and now he felt able to think more objectively about it. Now he wanted to start dissecting everything that had happened - Thudan disappearing was the least of it, and it hadn't been like he'd wanted the cyborg to begin with; he'd told Sombra and Saori to oh, he didn't know, see what they could turn up by studying him.

Honestly, it had been a bit of a hassle.

A shapeshifting machine was far more interesting, if threatening.

He knew who he'd like to talk to about it.

But how to talk to Jastes? He hadn’t heard or seen from the yellowblood in a while.

He was genuinely curious how the cyborg was doing, but knew he was, understandably, not someone who could expect answers from the man he had nearly captured.

If Process was still here he could ask it for help, but the damn AI - troll - whatever, was long gone and hadn’t left any contact information.

Think, Jamie, think.

Then he remembered something: a brief news story that the Spine helm generator (though bereft of all its helms, thanks to him and Jastes) had blown up some time ago. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time - except a resentful ‘good riddance’ - but now he wondered if there wasn’t more to the explosion.

Jamie searched around the internet, looking for more information, sending his bots out to perform keyword queries and scan civic reports.

His eyes widened as he sent them into databases and caste-restricted news sites.

An abandoned cavern discovered deep underground? Defunct for over five hundred sweeps, if not more? Most of it caved in already? 

Well, even if it had nothing to do with the cyborg, this was worth looking into.

There were apparently survey drones down there now according to one report - perfect. If only he could hack into their feeds…but he would need far more information than he currently had to do so.

Then he snorted at his own slowness. Obviously, he could just send his own cloaked robots down to latch onto them and run their own investigations. It would likely take at least a night to modify them, send them out, and have them make the trip, but it would potentially be quite intriguing.

Besides. He needed something to do besides work to take his mind off what had happened while he also planned to move.

—

It took a night and a half, but his robots finally found the survey drones and latched on, leeching a bit of power to sustain themselves. 

Yet he found the livestream from their cameras rather boring - the drones were clearing through the rubble and collecting scraps of what had once been the Spine.

But why did it blow up? It hadn’t even had any power connected to it at the time. He and Jastes had made sure of that.

So who could have done so and why? 

He searched around the reports instead. Ancient cavern…there before Civitrecce, from an earlier settlement, but there were traces that it had been used by someone after that, around the four hundred and sixty sweeps ago, right before the city had become part of the empire.

Well, that was fun trivia, but hardly useful. 

Except…

No. That would be too coincidental, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps. Yet he felt compelled to check.

He ran searches for Torvah Verdan, Jastes’s ancestor, the one Process had told him about.

He found almost nothing.

Except a few short snippets and theories that supposedly, they had been a psiionic of great power, but no one from the empire had actually seen them. Some people even assumed the original city trolls had made them up, especially with talk of their “nigh-unbelievable” powers.

A few trolls had even claimed…

His eyes widened.

A few trolls claimed Verdan had made a sort of thinking security system to protect them and were angry that it had vanished along with the psiionic. We encountered no such thing. It seems to be another of the lowbloods’ fabrications, or perhaps their leader lied to them. 

He could find nothing else. It was just that one brief mention.

Jamie’s thoughts ran wild.

He forced himself to calm down, well aware he might be drawing connections where there were none. 

He knew, beyond a doubt, that he had to talk to Jastes.

At the very least, he had to warn him.

Jamie looked at the starry ceiling of his apartment, remembering that before he had lived here, he’d had his small hive in the suburbs.

He’d left it after Tetrao had come and broken his spine, unable to stand remaining there.

Now a different sort of Spine had been broken, and he feared…

He feared what might have been set free.

[hugmekenobi]

Ch7 Sneak Peek

Another lil something for any parties interested. I'm not far off from finishing this chapter!

“Hello, hello!”

You turned in the direction of the chipper voice and saw Phee waltz through the door.

“Phee!” Omega called out happily.

“Hey, kid!” She said with a wave before she made a beeline for you and Hunter. “How’s my favourite couple doing?”

“What do you want?” Hunter asked by way of answer.

“Straight to the point. That’s what I like about you, Bandana.” Phee charmed.

“What is it, Phee?” You asked again.

“I got word of a lead on-”

“Some sorta valuable, ancient artifact?” You and Hunter sussed.

Phee nodded. “I need some assistance following up. Was wondering if I could borrow you and Omega?”

“Yes!” Omega replied instantly but a sharp glance from Hunter told her she better hold off until she had official confirmation.

Your brow furrowed. “Why just us the two of us?”

“Typically, we do missions together.” Tech pointed out from the table you.

“Don’t worry, brown eyes. You’ll get your turn at some point.” She said.

Tech didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just focused his attention back to his datapad. He missed the smirks from his two brothers sitting across from him.

Phee now answered your question. “Figured it would be good for the kid to keep seeing new places and it’s a simple mission so little risk. And we made some progress back on Kaldar, let’s not lose that.” She left out that she wanted the time to also figure you and certain behaviours of yours out. There was something more to you that you that she needed to uncover.

“Okay.” You said hesitantly, still not fully satisfied with that answer but you sensed you weren’t going to get anything more.

Phee turned her attention back to the two of you. “What do ya say? I promise not to let either of your girls be hurt or led astray.” She told Hunter as a means to sweeten the deal.

Hunter focused his gaze on you. “If you want to go, you can go. I also have a feeling she won’t let you stay.”

Phee feigned a look of surprise.

You shrugged. “Gets me outta here for a little bit, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit.” Phee said with a roll of her eyes.

“And me? Please, Hunter?” Omega begged.

I’ll be an extra set of eyes, she’ll be alright.

Hunter sighed. He wasn’t thrilled by this by any means, but he had promised himself to give Phee a chance and you were going with them so that helped things a little. He nodded his permission.

Phee carefully observed you and Hunter. The two of you did it again. That secret, slightly above normal silent communication that seemed to go through you both with perfect understanding.

“Yes!” Omega whooped in victory before she gathered her stuff and darted towards the door.

“Where exactly are we going?” You queried.

“Nal Hutta.” Phee replied.

That made you pause but you covered it quickly. You heaved a sigh and pushed yourself up from your chair.

“Show some enthusiasm! This is going to be fun!” Phee said with a smile before she started to follow Omega out.

You made sure your armour and weapons were secure before you faced Hunter. You gave him a chaste kiss to the lips before his arms enveloped you in a hug.

“Be careful, yeah?” Hunter said as he released you.

“Hey, it’s me.” You said with an innocent grin.

“I know. That’s why I’m asking.” Hunter said, his tone light but the intent behind the words serious.

“I’ll be fine.” You said before you waved to the others and jogged to catch up with the other two.

--

“Nal Hutta, huh?” You repeated as you walked in the direction of her ship.

Phee cocked her head at you as she heard the slightly nervous way you spoke. “Yeah, not too rough for you, is it?”

You shot her a look. “No. There’s just… some people I’d rather not run into.”

“It’s a big place, the odds of that happening are low.”

“Tech gives much better estimations than you do.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure his sway on the more pessimistic side of things. That’s one thing you gotta learn about me, (Y/N), I like to look on the bright side.” She thumped your back. “Now, come on! We got a lead to hunt down.” She jogged to catch up with Omega.

 You were yet to be convinced by that philosophy. But you’d allow her this opportunity. After all, it had been quite a few years since you’d been there. The odds had to be low… right?

--

Nal Hutta

“You know this place is not going to be glamorous.” You warned Omega as the ship touched down.

“How long did you live here for?” Omega asked. She’d seen the anxious look on your face the whole time the ship had been en-route and she knew that if she asked about it, you wouldn’t lie to her.

“A few months. It wasn’t my scene.” You replied briefly as you pushed up your hood and mask up as high as they could go just as the door opened.

--

It had not changed. The green and yellow tinge to the environment around you was just as off putting as it had been when you first smuggled yourself here.

It was hot.

It was humid.

You already felt a layer of filth settling on your exposed skin.

And the swamp rain had already started and the stench from said swamps made your nose wrinkle under your mask. You had forgotten how bad it was. You chuckled as you glanced down at Omega to see her hand over her nose. “Told ya. Just let it hit you for a few minutes and then it’ll be fine.”

Omega reluctantly lowered her hand.

“Where’s this lead, Phee?” You asked, adjusting your weapons.

“We won’t need those.” Phee said confidently. “My source is in the local watering hole.” She pointed over to the only bar in the area.

Of course, they are. You thought irritably to yourself. You almost wished your travels for this source would see you go into the swamplands because at least out there, the likelihood of running into someone who might recognise you would be minimal. Going to this bar significantly increased the risks for you.

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - PART 5

CW: reluctant Whumper, way too much exposition, card games, insults, alcohol, fade to black gore

PART 4 ⇽ [Masterlist] ⇾ PART 6

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There was no way to tell how much time had passed now, the barricaded window frames didn't even let a sliver of sunlight crack through them. Elliot doubted to get any kind of power or heating going, though the temperature inside remained at a continuous chilly level. If he had to guess, focusing on what his gut told him, they slowly approached the late afternoon. Not that this changed anything, the brightness of Morris' table lamp dictated any change of lighting, he didn't want to find out what would happen if the battery ran out.

What started as a quick match of Crazy Eights turned into hours of shuffling, dealing and frustrated sighs Morris let echo through the tension between them. Looking the man up and down, with long stubble slightly darker than his chestnut curls, Elliot noticed how he also started to relax into this new dynamic. If only for a second he could forget how they came to be here, his designated company would deserve to be this enjoyable.

This satire of a game night was originally supposed to get him more leeway, along with acting as some sort of damage control. His anxiety-induced fits had irritated his opponent visibly, so he was lucky to be given a chance to make this right.

Make him like me, whatever that means-

To humiliate him back was a tempting option, but only if he decided that his bones weren't vital anymore. Sadly, both were well-versed enough in the children's game to keep each other on edge, dragging a single round into infinity.

So what's the right ratio of wins to satisfy a sadist? Elliot had to ask himself that question after a particularly tricky match, as his victory let Morris'  face bloom with an unhealthy crimson hue. 2 to 1? Or even a 70 percent success rate?

Only one truth was disclosed to him: The man really loved Crazy Eights. Taking every round as a fight for survival, Morris chewed his nails down to a stump, frantically looking at his hand and back towards the upcard of the waste pile. Elliot decided to lose this round again, preferably before the air was squeezed out of his throat.

Their game was barely interrupted, aside from a bathroom break and dinner consisting only of a protein bar. Elliot couldn't remember when they properly started to talk about all the world and his brother, but Morris tried desperately to enthrall him for the local baseball team, just to be rewarded with fake enthusiasm flowing into trivial queries about sports. The questions were genuine, though, Elliot couldn't keep him going otherwise.

Card games: fun. Screaming and crying: no fun. Doesn't really sound like a textbook sadist. Not that made a difference, at the end of the day, Morris was just a man. A violent, reckless one, but still a man.

I can work with that.

It was sad in a way, how much he seemed to enjoy his unwilling company. Maybe that's what the wanted all along: friends for rent.

What felt now like an age-old question continued to nag the back of his mind, the key component to his escape: Why him?

If he was acting hard to get, then Elliot would need to get a little more brisk.

"So, what do you do when you're not teaching me basic sports knowledge?" he asked, using a beat of Morris' pause to start the offense. He wouldn't spell out his social security number, sure, but it was worth a shot.

"This." Blunt in his reveal, Morris didn't even meet the eyes of his captive, too busy planning out a winning strategy. Elliot found himself to be less than underwhelmed, hoping for a helpful twist he could use as bait.

"We can't all sell stocks, now can we?"

"I...don't. Who told you that?" The ransom aspect made a lot more sense now, someone really had to hate him to make up those kinds of lies. His only answer was a shrug.

"I'm a part-time office clerk." he tried to explain himself, not sure if it would really help his case, "I-I write you an email if the gas prices increase again or your energy was shut off, but I have nothing to do-"

"Thrilling, really." Morris responded dryly, only slightly irritated he played the seven of clubs.

He does make losing difficult. Ignoring the couple of clubs already in his hand, Elliot drew another card. Walking on eggshells with that kind of opponent is risky, I shouldn't push too hard.

"Your turn," he said instead of another lecture.

He lost this round gladly, managing to turn the atmosphere into a relaxed caution of both parties again. During his shuffle to prepare the next one, Morris seemed to reflect.

"What about the other part? The one where you're not a corporate slave?"

So you don't know everything, alright.

"I use the office to finance the half of my life I really love: Music!" he explained, hoping to get some bonus points for dramatics, "When my colleagues and I start to play together-"

"You're in a band?!" During his short stay at Morris unusual establishment he already got used to being interrupted, at least the bait finally worked.

"Well, I-"

A short buzzing stopped him again, but this time they stayed quiet. Morris just got a message. Eyeing the phone on the table with a breathless intensity, Morris just had a mild sigh to offer: "Don't get too excited now, it's not what you think."

He laid the stack of cards face-down onto the table, careful not to scatter them everywhere, and fished for an object in his inside pocket. During the rummage through the leather jacket, Elliot didn't dare to speak, not wanting to ruin the sprout of hope inside him.

Morris finally got a grip on his desired object, pulling out another phone. Elliot would recognize the slick wooden case anywhere, his father bought it for his birthday. The screen was marked with fresh thin cracks, probably caused by his drop on the wet concrete.

I fell, he grasped, No! He made me...

Without warning, Morris reached over the table to grab the other man's right hand, still rubbed open at the wrists. Elliot let himself go limp, like it was already trained response, while his thumb was pressed against the front of the screen. As quickly as Morris grabbed him, he also released.

With now unlimited access to his data, Elliot could do nothing but gawk at the audacity with which his captor seemed to navigate through his phone, reading the newest message in silence.

Keeping it on - practically running around screaming to be arrested. He was no sadist, just a big fucking idiot. Elliot prayed that he would act exactly as stupid as he seemed to be. His colleagues ought to be too angry with him to just ignore his absence. A call had to be made, one he didn't accept, so they started to worry...

"Brooke wishes you a speedy recovery!" was all Morris had to say. Brooke Hoffstetter, first violin, just a few rows in front of him. "A bit late, but still very considerate of her."

"Why?" he whispered, his hope slowly shrinking.

"You have a nasty stomach flu and couldn't make it to practice, it seems," Morris casually told the man he had the nerve to impersonate, "Let's hope I don't catch anything."

"Fuck you!" The words just tumbled out of Elliot's mouth, unable to hold it back anymore.

He felt like crying again, the same helplessness overcoming him in waves, just like it had many hours beforehand. He thought he made progress, but he was exactly where Morris wanted to have him. Nice and quiet, stuck to a chair. No one was coming.

"You know, I like you better when you stop shoving your head up my ass," he continued, a sound close to a chuckle carried his words right to Elliot's ear, turning fear into anger.

"At least they don't hate you for coming late again. She claimed that your conductor was pretty pissed, but don't worry, everything is taken care of. I'll just send Brooke a thumbs up, she seems so well organized."

The inside of his mouth had started to bleed. Elliot bit down on his cheek with such a force, so any other insults would be kept at bay; he wouldn't fall for this obvious trap. 

Fucking with the feelings of a desperate man: fun. Being insulted: fun. Good to know.

"Cute, how much you enjoy your work," Elliot began to press out between clenched teeth, the metallic wetness still coating them.

"Don't be like that, I have to make sure everything is running smoothly." 

He began to shuffle again, slower than usual, matching the rustling of the cards with Elliot's controlled breathing. Still smiling, but in a more understanding way than before, it looked like even the abductor didn't want to ruin the mood further. "Ready for another round?"

Elliot never felt ready in the time he spent here, but the exhaustion lingered even heavier on him now. His bound legs screamed for release while his still pounding head wanted nothing but to rest, the dirty foam mattress looking awfully comfortable.

"I'm tired. Can I lay down again?" he asked, polite enough to charm every degenerate in a four-mile radius, but not Morris. Suddenly on edge again, he looked back blank.

"Listen, I know this is stressful for you. We can play something else if you like. Do you know Mau-Mau? Or Switch?"

Desperate, all of a sudden. Tough shit.

"Isn't that the same game all over again?" he asked, digging through his worn mind to recognize what the topic was even revolving about. "I don't even know what time it is, I just want to sleep for a bit."

He didn't trust Morris a single inch, but the fatigue would be his main obstacle in the coming hours, so nothing granted him much of an alternative.

"Around five in the afternoon. I bet it's just your blood sugar, Elliot, you can handle that! I'll even do quartets if you like."

Digging through the duffle bag, he pulled out another protein bar, proudly pushing it towards Elliot. He had never seen a man so desperate for a game of cards, it was mind-boggling. "We play for a bit, and then we take a break, okay? Asshole, you know that one?"

"I actually know a lot of them." The biggest sitting right in front of me. Still, he didn't even touch the well-meant peace offering, instead resolving to lean back in this chair, making himself as small as possible.

"We'll make a deal, alright?" Elliot said after a few seconds, "Worked fine until now, so it shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"I'm not negotiating with you. Even though I do appreciate you finally growing a backbone," Morris replied hesitant.

"You tell me why this is all happening, and I do whatever you like." Wording, you fucking moron. "Damn, I'll even play... I don't know, blackjack with you."

It was the worst offer Morris had ever heard, but he would accept it one way or the other. Far over twelve hours had passed, without a single reaction or phone call. If he was forced to do something he ought to avoid at all costs, Elliot had at least to understand why. He didn't seem to be half as bad as Morris had imagined. So he gave in.

--------

They went back to Crazy Eights again, naturally. A last round which kept one of the parties busy enough to ignore the looming threat inside the room, tainting their domestic game night. With five cards still in his hand, Morris lost without question. He wasn't a sore loser, but the truth still tasted bitter on the back of his tongue. This would take time none of them had left.

"So," Elliot asked again, his voice shaking so badly it nearly broke at every other syllable, "why are you keeping me here? Did my parents accept a sketchy loan or something?"

Morris just now understood that the poor man was under the assumption his mother would ignore violent threats of a stranger. No wonder a few hours in duct tape messed him up so deeply. He wondered in what manner he should break the news to Elliot, to avoid any ugly tantrums. Now, with his arms freed, he could do a lot more damage than just yelling; a fact the dull pain between his legs kept reminding him of.

"Your ex..." Morris claimed, at last being filled with a sense of release.

"Which one?" Elliot asked back, though not even needing an answer. He knew exactly who brought him into this mess.

The beat of silence stressing his statement was suddenly broken by a heavy and rich laugh, making the walls around them shake with honest delight. Morris bent over himself for multiple minutes, being shaken by his own wit for what felt like an unhealthy amount of time. At one point it sounded like choking, and Elliot prayed to no one in particular to make it real. Finally calming down from his sudden lapse, Morris just had one thing to say: "You get around, huh?"

"From time to time." 

Elliot didn't understand how he could remain so calm inside. Gallons of anger or betrayal had to explode any minute, filling him up with a deep rage to outgo all his previous fits. But there was nothing to wait for, whatever he expected left him behind a long time ago.

So he just stayed still, watching Morris wipe some tears of joy out of the corners of his eyes.

"What did she do?" he dared to ask after his captor settled down again.

"Mhh?"

"Amber, what did she do to you?" Of course, it was her. When his life went down the gutter, you could place bets she was standing right on the sidewalk.

"Amber, yes..." Morris looked so much smaller for a second, like it physically pained him to even say her name. "She owes me money, among other things."

"Fuck, I can get you money. I'll pay you back whatever she forgot to. With interest, I don't care."

Over the past hours, he had grown accustom to Elliot's whining and bargain, it was like second nature to him. Morris shouldn't punish him for that, it's just what happens in these kinds of circumstances.

"It's a matter of principle, you don't fuck me over and then disappear from the face of the earth." Yeah, sounds like her.

"We- we broke up months ago. I'm not useful for any of this," Elliot whispered desperately, still not seeming to grasp the position he was in.

"She still loves you, don't you know that?"

"Sure, she loves me so much that she doesn't even bother to answer you," he spit with all the venom he had left. It didn't help Morris already helpless expression. "Lets me rot in a fucking asbestos den..."

„Don't be so bitter about that. She broke up with you for a reason."

He sounded so convinced in his delusion, Elliot caught himself agreeing with him for a second.

"And don't worry about yourself, we have time." Liar.

"Service's working?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure she'd seen the pictures?"

"Yes," Morris said unbothered, lying more to himself than the twitchy stick of a man in front of him.

Obviously, she had seen them, after all these hours, she had seen it all. The threats, the blood... All for a phone call she was too proud to make. Morris realized his chronic misjudgment with a sour expression: She didn't take him seriously, she never did, and this farce wouldn't change a single thing about it. But maybe he didn't have to carry that burden alone anymore...

"Why did she end it?" he asked, this time genuinely invested.

Elliot, covered in dried sweat and blood, still looked like a top-drawer son-in-law. Someone who would braid her hair if asked nicely enough.

"First of all, I did!" the twitchy stick spit at him, his feelings stewing up after months of simmering under his heart, "Second, that shouldn't concern you." He was fed up with the small-talk.

"Tell me, or I gag you." Morris threatened with aloof implicitness, acting more and more offended as his delusion fell apart. Elliot wished every kind of misery upon this captor, including Amber's ongoing company.

"Cheated on me with her fucking weed dealer." Tension was thick between them again. "Among other things."

"Oh, sorry." It was comical, in a sort of way. Elliot scoffed quickly, ignoring that Morris apologized for the only crime he hadn't committed.

"I have nothing to do with her anymore. Don't even know where she lives now. You should have taken any of her friends, not me. She probably won't recognize me anymore!"

"Would have saved you a lot of stress, if you knew her current location."

The sad undertone Morris' claims carried didn't do anything to help Elliot accept his helplessness. If he made it out alive, he would live in the nearby monastery, single for the rest of time.

"I know where her friends live," he tried instead, not a sliver of guilt in sight. He knew exactly where they were hiding, being dragged to all the awful house parties turned out in his favor after all. Morris eyed him slowly, humored by his sudden proactivity, and admittedly impressed.

"You'd rat out her friends?"

"So what? Are their kneecaps more valuable than mine?!" 

His captor smiled again, thin and knowing. 

"You really are the same. You and everyone who came before." Elliot didn't know what to answer, so he let it be.

"I understand that you're upset, and believe me, I would like to watch her obnoxious circle to shut up in an instant. But it has to be you, it's just how it is."

"Definitely not personal, I see."

Retorting with a sigh, Morris stood up for the first time in hours, ready to end this try at a peaceful mediation. Elliot really was a handful, he decided and smirked to himself. Pulling a wooden wall panel aside, digging through the empty space behind it, he grabbed a dusty bottle which was still filled to the brim. No need to scare him anymore, he could be open for once.

"Last time I was here, I spend so much time with solitaire, I nearly went insane. So I decided to make some moonshine; makes the whole thing less lonely!"

You seem to have a problem with that. Can't blame Amber for running. Wishing he had been just as successful as his ex-lover, he accepted the small glass Morris presented him with.

"A shot for every time we lost!"

With 34 to 13, if Elliot counted correctly, he would get alcohol poisoning before the sun even rose again. Maybe the better alternative.

"I don't know if-"

"Wasn't a question, Elliot." He poured them each a shot, the clear liquid spilling over the edge. Elliot couldn't handle his booze very well, a lightweight through and through. Not wanting to be pickled by his oh-so charming captor, he thought of an alternative.

"We could play for that, starting fresh. Each time one of us loses, they have to drink."

"I don't think I'm in the mood anymore." Expectantly, Morris stared him down.

Taking the first shot as a well-meaning sign and desperately trying not to spit it out in an instance, Elliot bent to his will again.

"Could take longer than I expect." Morris mumbled, also downing his own. Liquid courage, he told himself.

"But we have time, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

Silence settled over the pair. The quiet clicks of nails against glass was the only noise disrupting the thick atmosphere. Morris was the first to speak again, slowly lifting the bottle to pour another round onto the leftover droplets.

"Drink," he pressed out, not even bothering to keep the act up. "Please don't make this difficult, come on."

Despite his stern tone, Morris' continued to stare blankly at the stack of cards, still itching to be used again. Even though both men knew that wouldn't make a difference anymore.

--------

Morris tried to shake him back to consciousness, once or twice. Spread out over the table, Elliot long dropped his ability to stay awake; the mixture of low blood sugar, exhaustion, and dehydration was to blame for it.

Slowly, Morris grabbed his shoulders to lean him back onto the backrest, but keeping his hands firmly on the now soaked wood. Quiet murmuring was the only sound of the last half hour; at least Elliot appeared way less miserable and tense in his drunken state and if Morris had to guess, he wouldn't be able to feel what was about to come.

He warned her insistently, multiple times in the last few hours, and even tried to call again. Nothing. She witnessed it all, he was sure, but decided just to watch the message preview instead of taking the commitment seriously. 

He didn't plan for this to happen, not really, but that what he thought he deserved for underestimating Amber. He let the drowsy head tip back to better reach the gag still bound around Elliot's neck, gently putting it back into place without any protest. It would be a bummer if he accidentally bit his tongue, Morris honestly enjoyed the little banters they had.

With Elliot's fingers now forcibly spread apart, Morris reassured himself this gesture was a necessity, a sign for her to finally take his demands seriously. Examining the dazed man beside him, he wondered how he managed to free himself from her. Nobody just breaks up with Amber like that.

The edge of his old switchblade pressed lightly into the base of the ring finger laying flat against the wood, teasing the joint apart. But Morris hesitated, not entirely sure why so. The messier, the better, he thought by himself, knowing exactly how much she hated the horror movies they watched together.

It wouldn't be fair though, he recalled, and very unhygienic for the both of them. Imaging a brand-new game of cards, the deck smeared with various bodily fluids a human could provide, he was certain that Elliot would never go for another round. Even if his severed finger was just laying next to him, no threat would convince him otherwise. It was better this way. Tidy.

Morris didn't think about Elliot when he positioned the knife far lower on the back of the hand and turned it around, the point of it facing the ceiling. He didn't think of the whole day they now knew each other, more or less, and he also tried his hardest to ignore the light twitch shooting though his own body. 

He thought of Amber and how happy they could be together, if she would just answer - as he let the far end of the knife smash down into the bones underneath, again and again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[usernoneexistent]

Juniper spends her summer holiday with friends from Hogwarts as well revisiting an old one that she hasn't seen in a while.

Warnings: mention of substance abuse, mild bad language, emotional neglect.

The summer before Juniper's second year was one that she actually looked forward to. Despite looking through the little archived newspapers of Jacob's expulsion and disappearance, she couldn't progress much further thanks to her mother and herself, who threw away most of the news articles. But she enjoyed her correspondents with Rowan and Ben that they had.

They promised to write regularly to each other and have a sleepover at each other's homes. Rowan was first; the Khannas welcomed Juniper with open arms. Ben arrived a little later. Mr Khanna offered Ben's parents that he could pick up and drop off Ben. Despite having worries about all sorts of issues, they reluctantly agreed. Mr and Mrs Khanna made it very clear since the two girls were alone with a boy that, Ben had to sleep in Rowan's older brother's room and that if the three were alone, they must keep the doors open at all times.

Rowan gave a tour of the tree farm, explaining in excruciating detail from the type of tree down to its grains before her brother jokingly told her off and that she should relax. She bathed in the refreshing smell of sawdust and country air. Juniper chuckled out that this is what Rowan finds relaxing. He mostly kept himself but helped out whenever Rowan needed him. Juniper had to be careful not to watch them closely for too long. She was happy for Rowan that she got along so well with her brother, but the green-eyed monster peaked at his ugly head. Jealous of Rowan's functional family unit while hers was in tatters.

She ignored that feeling as best as she could and focused on the fun. Mrs Khanna made butter chicken for them. It was Juniper's first time trying, but despite the spiciness, it was delectable. She had more laughs than envy moments, causing the little jealous monster to retreat to its slumber.

Juniper had to take the train at Ben's turn to host the sleepover. Due to Ben's parents' house not being connected to the floo network and Juniper living in Scotland, she had to navigate from St Andrews to Edinburgh and then down to Birmingham. Ben's father picked her up and took her into a suburban neighbourhood in his silver muggle transport. Juniper had seen cars before, but it was her first time riding in one, though she felt queasy throughout the journey. Her hair was colovera to black to make the Coppers more comfortable. Rowan was already there as she lived closer. Ben had his father's hair but his mother's brown eyes. His parents seem old, with flakes of white in their hair.

"Um, the door has to be left open. My parents are just excited that I actually have some friends over." Ben mentioned as Juniper looked around the room. It was plain, the walls were pale blue, and the walls looked sparse.

"Your parents are like mines." Rowan chimed in.

"Ma pa is like this too." Juniper added. "Actually no. He would kill you."

"Kill me! I don't want to be killed by your dad!" Ben exclaimed, frightened.

"Oh, don't worry. He'll kill me after you for bringing a boy home." Juniper said in a serious tone. Ben's eyes grew wide like saucers before Juniper laughed. "It's a joke. Don't worry. Ma Pa is far away from England."

Ben awkwardly chuckled, but Rowan distracted them by asking about all the usual muggle games. There was the snake and ladders, the game Ben had introduced when they started regularly hanging out. She browsed through his books, constantly asking one query after another. Ben patiently answered all their questions before informing them of their trip to the cinema. Ben had written to them about the muggle's own moving pictures. They use theirs to tell stories rather than take photographs.

When they finally arrived, Rowan and Juniper were in awe of the place. Ben's father also bought them popcorn which was corn burned with butter. As the muggles called it -the film- was about a girl from Kansas with a small dog. Ben gave a brief synopsis of the prequel story where she ends up in this magical place and an emerald city with small people and magic. There was a scarecrow, a lion and a tinman. In this film, there was also a princess and a pumpkinhead.

When he came to collect them, Rowan and Juniper talked nonstop about the cinema and the moving pictures. It went on and on at dinner too. They had pizza; Rowan and Juniper knew what it was but never had, so the excitement of new and exciting muggle things returned late to the night. However, they had to sleep in the guest bedroom, but Juniper convinced Ben to sneak in the middle of the night so they could chat all night long. They snacked on sweets that Juniper smuggled in and played card games.

Ben seemed relieved that the girls had a fun time before leaving, and his parents looked less anxious, especially his mum chewed on her nails less. They couldn't wait until their third one.

The rest of July came and went as her letter for the second year arrived. During that time, she practised spell casting, looking through Jacob's old school notes to see if she could perform more advanced spells.

July was always the hardest on her mother. The reminder that Jacob had been missing for another year caused her mother to become more irascible and spend more time with her bed. The glass potion bottles would increase in her room. Juniper went shopping again, but when she returned, her mother told her off grumpily for not considering the dangers of being alone before crying about how sorry she was for not being there for Juniper.

One day, an owl brought the Daily Prophet and dropped it on the table, almost landing her cereal. Typically, she would scan through it and tear out any pages she knew would trigger her mum into an episode. However, this particular headline caught her eye.

Curses of the Moss coming back sooner than later?

Written, of course, by Rita Skeeter. That journalist made the most scandalous and shocking headlines throughout Jacob's expulsion and subsequent disappearance. She hid every one of her articles in a box, but none ever had any substance.

Jacob Moss' disappearance felt like it just happened yesterday when he endangered Hogwarts when it was supposed to be a place of sanctuary. Now five years later, his younger sister has seemingly continued on his delusional quest of the fabled cursed vaults-

Juniper stopped reading on at this point. She knew better than to fall for the vindictive lies of Rita Skeeter and start looking at more credible sources. She recalled that her neighbour, Gedeon Doughlas, had collected newspaper clippings about almost everything during the fiasco. Gedeon had always been there for her and her mum. He was Jacob's prefect, so he also watched out for her brother. Well, their families have been friends since the 1800s when his great, great grandfather and her three times great grandfather founded and co-owned their infamous pub, the Naughty Cliffs. Though in hard times, her grandfather had built up a lot of debt, and her mother wasn't fit to work; thus, it ended with Jimmy, Gedeon's father running the place as of late.

She crept quietly past her mother's bedroom down the hall and grabbed her bright red raincoat before heading out into the forest of Tentsmuir. The Doughlas house was a five-minute walk, a stone structure similar to her home.

Her wet knuckles rapped on the dark wooden door. A few minutes passed before Juniper determined it was a stupid idea anyway. Besides, she was also getting soaked in the drizzle.

"Junie?" Behind her, the door was outstretched, and a tall, blonde man leaned against the door frame.

"Ged!" She excitedly ran up to him and almost knocked the wind out of him.

"Well, look at how you've grown, Tern." He hugged her properly and spun her right around before putting her down. A wet stain was marked on his shirt where the raincoat touched. "It's been almost a year right?"

"Aye, we keep missing each other." Juniper remarked. Gedeon invited her in and placed her soaked raincoat by the fire while he made some tea. Uncle Jimmy was away at work, leaving the two alone.

"What brought you over here anyway?" Gedeon leaned against the countertops with his cup of tea in hand.

"I wanted tae look over the old articles when Jacob went missing. You still have all the articles?" Juniper warmed her hands against the puffin-covered mug.

"Aye, I do. I think I have them in my room. Wait one second till I find them." Gedeon left Juniper alone for what felt like a while. She heard his heavy footsteps running around the room.

Before long, her tea was gone, and Gedeon's went cold. He came back and plopped down a massive stack.

"Whoa! I did nae expect you have this much." The girl commented. Her fingers carefully flicked through, scanning each headline to see if it was a grabber or if it contained genuine information.

"Why'd you want tae read this anyway?" Gedeon queried, helping Juniper sort through. "Wait, you're searching for the cursed vaults, aren't ya?"

"Aye..." Juniper felt herself go quiet. She had forgotten that Gedeon was also an adult, yet most always stopped her from finding Jacob, but Gedeon was her side. When her brother disappeared, he looked after her and her mum. Besides, he would know what Jacob was doing for at least three years.

"Are you gonna tell ma?"

She put on her best puppy eyes at Gedeon, and he just laughed at her plea attempt.

"Aye, no worries. I'm no going tae tell your ma, I promise." He winked at Juniper.

"How is it going anyway?" Gedeon inquired, growing more interested in Juniper's adventure. She updated him on everything that had happened for the past school year, including her strange visions.

Gedeon seemed supportive and even offered his help where he could. Well, he first allowed Juniper to take the article clippings that appeared to hold the most information and put it into her evidence notebook. Keeping everything in one place was handy instead of relying on Rowan's incredible memory archive.

He charmed the bits of newspaper articles with a waterproof charm to protect them from the rain before she said her thanks and goodbyes to him, forgetting all about her mother tossing in bed.

***

Finally, when it was Juniper's turn, it was the complete opposite of her mum. Julia didn't mind that the doors were shut and if the tweens wanted some privacy. She trusted Juniper would be responsible enough, as always. Her mum really went the extra mile for Juniper, helping her set up a tent charmed to be rainproof as the summer rain ceased to end, and with sleeping bags, they found lying about the house.

"What else do we need?" Juniper asked.

"I think I have some games somewhere for you guys," Julia stated. "Wait here, I'll get it."

Over fifteen minutes passed as Juniper grew more concerned. She had finished putting up the fairy lights. The girl rushed inside and up the stairs to the attic; she peaked her head over to find her mother weeping quietly.

"Ma?"

"Oh, Junie," Julia quickly wiped her tears. "I was just getting ludo."

Juniper wrapped her arms around her. "You don't have to say anything. Don't we need the sweets too?"

"You're right, Juno. I'll go make up a bowl." Julia thinly smiled, using her daughter's distraction.

Juniper took the magically modified ludo board. Jacob had tinkered about with it after finding the board game in a muggle market.

Mr Khanna brought Rowan and Ben outside their stone cottage. He asked if Rowan had everything she needed, but she knew that Rowan would be over-prepared.

"You're finally both here!" Juniper squished them both in a bear hug. "Come, I have so much to show you. Me and Ma set up the tent for us to sleep."

"That's so cool!"

"It looks small," Ben commented.

"It's bigger on the inside." Rowan and Juniper said simultaneously. Ben didn't look as surprised. A year at Hogwarts would make anyone ready for the unexpected.

Ben was amazed at the change in size perception. There were three camping beds with sleeping bags and a separate bathroom that her father had enchanted. Now that Juniper thinks about it more, her father did most of the transfiguration and put all this effort into it. Yet, they only camped once together, which ended in an absolute disaster from the patchy memories.

"I was thinking we could down tae the beach first, how does that sound?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Rowan said.

"Wait here, I need tae ask Ma tae colovera ma hair since muggles are there," Juniper excused and rushed to the kitchen. The bowl was there, but her mum wasn't. She quickly looked into her mum's bedroom.

Crap.

That was her mum out cold for a whole day. Juniper went outside, grabbing her tulip hat and a bobble before she squished her hair up inside the stripey hat.

Juniper peaked her hair around in the tent and forced a smile. "Mum is quickly out shopping so I could nae get my hair colovera but we can still go tae the beach."

Rowan raised her eyebrows in suspicion but left it.

"Okay, lets go then."

Juniper guided through the forest and onto the trails where the muggles tend to trek. Down to the sandy beach, many muggles dotted about with their kids. Juniper kicked off her shoes.

"This place is so nice," Rowan remarked, looking comfortable for once. "I wish I could live in a place like this. It must be nice being able to go the beach whenever you want."

"Not to mention the terriying creatures that lurk at night in the forest." Ben added

"I can assure you the most terrifying thing here are the seagulls." Juniper chuckled, pointing up at the seagulls encircling.

To prove her point, one of the seagulls daringly swooped down and snatched a family's chips as they ran shrieking. The man tried to whack the seagull with a rolled-up newspaper, only to trip over the bags.

The seagull laughed in its victory, eating away at the chip. Juniper saw the look of horror on Ben's face. She tried her hardest to stifle her laughter but to no avail. Rowan quickly followed suit.

"It's not funny!" Ben stomped.

"I'm sorry, Ben," Rowan wiped away a tear before clutching her stomach.

"I was nae expecting that," Juniper howled with laughter. "I'm sorry, Ben but I swear I did nae plan this. This is just too perfect."

Ben moped around briefly, but he started to enjoy the day. The trio at first kept to themselves the rest of the day but somehow managed to play with the muggle kids. Juniper had a few close calls with her hat flying off, but they walked back home soaking, sandy and weary in the best way possible.

Juniper checked on her mum, still out like a light, so she had to get creative. She made grilled cheese sandwiches and brought the sweetie bowl. She claimed that her mum went to bed early. Technically not a lie.

They stayed up all night, maybe getting hyper from the sweets or the excitement from that day, but at some point, they somehow fell asleep. Julia was still so knocked when Juniper checked in again.

Two days and one night were all that Juniper asked for.

The girl calmly assured her friends that her mum was just tired and made them breakfast. They grew concerned, but Juniper plastered a smile, repeating that everything was alright.

Juniper was forced to put on an apologetic smile while asking Mrs Khanna if she could disapparate Ben back to his parents. Mrs Khanna raised concerns over her mother's lack of presence. Still, Juniper immediately shot her down, saying she was fine and could handle it alone.

Once the goodbyes were over and she shut the front door, the floodgates of anger opened. She heard a creak from her mother's bedroom, and her mum's head popped out, blue tuffs sticking out where she had lain.

"Where are Rowan and Ben? Did I miss them?"

"Aye, Ma! They just left right there." She snapped. Her mum physically reacted as her face showed deep hurt. Juniper wanted so badly to run and comfort her mum, but another part felt deeply pained that she couldn't just have woken up. Just the days of sleepovers, that's all she wanted. How hard was it for her mum not to take sleeping draughts and sleep in? Just simply be there and give her the sense that everything was alright.

"Auch, what a shame. I wanted to chat to Mrs Khanna for a wee minute." Her mum grimaced before returning to bed.

Juniper wanted to scream at her mum for being careless but stayed calm. Screaming would just induce a panic attack and make her mum cry that she was a lousy mother, and if things got worse...Juniper didn't want to think about that.

She left the cliff cottage and walked through the wood. Before she knew it, her hand punched a tree, and every pent-up frustration was released on the bark before she screamed that her small frame could muster.

"Poor tree. What did he deserve tae get such treatment?" Juniper turned around and saw a blonde man bearing a crooked grin.

"Oh, hey Gedeon" She covered her bruises, hands behind her back. "Nothing much."

"You sure?" He slowly approached her, getting his wand out. "Let me see, Tern."

Juniper, ashamed, put out her hands as Gedeon healed the bloody and bruised knuckles.

"There, all better now." He said softly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Juniper shook her head. She knew she could confide in Gedeon, but she didn't want to say.

"Wanna come bird watching with me?"

"Beats being here."

Juniper took his offer. She needed to escape from here and be secluded in nature's life. She took his arm and disapparated to the Isle of May. It was a small, rocky island off the coast of Fife.

They apparated inside the abandoned light tower. Gedeon quickly checked that no muggles heard or saw anything, but it seemed good of people that day. Maybe the rain driving most tourists off, or they're on the boat.

"Tie your hair up, Junie."

"Why?" Juniper asked as she obediently followed his instructions, twirling it into a messy bun.

"Just in case any muggles pass by. Don't want tae to make them jealous cause of your amazing hair." He joked. Her hair was causing trouble, as per usual.

"Aye, so the usual then," Juniper said. Gedeon placed his fish hat on her head, almost swallowing Juniper whole. "Are we going to see the puffins first?"

"Aye, you always loved the puffins." Gedeon laughed.

"What's so wrong about that?" Juniper huffed and pouted, which seemed to make Gedeon laugh more.

"Aye, nothing." He pulled her out of the lighthouse. "Lets go."

When they got out, the wind wasn't as bad as Juniper had expected though she had to hold on tight to the hat. He took her to the rocky side and crawled down onto their stomachs at a safe distance.

Gedeon pulled out a pair of binoculars and observed the flock of puffins either idling by at the rocks or flying about.

"Look at that one!" Juniper pointed towards the bird, swooping down on its prey. "He's got a big fish!"

"I think that's actually a she." Gedeon corrected.

"How'd you ken?" She asked.

"I ken cause the bill is small and her overall size." Gedeon explained.

"Obviosuly, I can't see very well from here." Juniper commented snarkily. They could get closer, but Gedeon didn't want them to disturb their habitat.

Gedeon sighed and passed his binoculars on to her. "Here, use this and tell me what you see."

The rock was filled with loud squawks and little chirps as Juniper scanned with her binoculars. There were a lot of puffins feeding their chicks.

"Lots of baby puffins," Juniper watched a mother puffin feed her chick a fish. She watched the birds in a fit of strange jealousy, and the mother birds were more of a mother than her own.

"Do you want tae talk about your ma?"

Juniper sighed, "I asked ma if she can no take sleeping draughts when ma friends come over. I don't want them to see her all moody and depressed."

"I get that," Gedeon sympathised. "I was embarrassed to bring my friends over when I was your age."

"Really?"

"Aye, but don't forget that yer Ma is dealing with a lot at this time."

Juniper sighed as Gedeon was right. Her mum was trying hard not to think about Jacob, but a part of her couldn't help but feel overlooked. She looked through the binoculars.

"A whole lotta puffins...Wait." Juniper scrunched her eyes to look closer at the foreign bird. "There's another, white except for the head and the beak is orange."

"Pass that back," Juniper gave back the binoculars, observing Gedeon. His eyebrows knitting as he focused on the other bird. "Look it's an artic tern. Also known as sterna paradisaea in Latin. They're common around here."

"You ken Latin?" Juniper sounded surprised at this new knowledge.

"Only for birds," he quietly laughed. "It helps knowing if they're part of the same family."

"Oh? But why do you keep calling me tern? I don't think I'm anything like them."

"On the contrary, Junie, you are exactly like them."

"How so?"

"They are tenacious and hopeful creatures. They migrate the longest distance and they continue to persist despite the dangerous weather conditions leading to hope."

"That's pretty cool," Juniper said, smiling to herself.

Juniper determined right then that terns were her new favourite birds, and she would be an arctic tern pursuing the cursed vaults.

Previous chapter: chapter 10

Next chapter: chapter 12

[writingbyclem]

Found You [ISWM]

Concept: guess who’s back. back again? Older Cap. Cap is back. /lyr Come and get it y’all! Hope you enjoy lmao.

The Invincible II Crew were enjoying a fun evening of mingling with the Universal Stability Agency Crew. It had been a wonderful evening all round, aboard the U.S.A ship, the two vessels temporarily joining to create an ease in moving from one to the other. It also made the data transfer from the U.S.A to the Invincible easier, the ship being provided with information that the new colony and species would find useful to know.

Mark stood in the main refreshments room, having finished talking with his fellow crew leads and other high ranked alien crew members. After some light alien champagne, he was wondering where on earth his beloved Captain had gotten too. He hadn’t seen them at all that night. He missed them.

“Estella?” He spoke.

The alien member perked up at the call of her name, blue and black hair swishing with a soft clunk noise. Her brown rope-like attire, swaying in her excited movement.

“What’s up Mark?” She beamed, still holding her glass of champagne.

“I’m gonna go find Captain.” He explained. “Tell them, if they ask.” He pointed at the group of crew leads.

“Oh yeah! You got it! Go find them.” Estella nodded, happily. “We’ll be here!”

Mark had walked around for a good twenty minutes now, going from room to room aboard the ship, looking to find his beloved Captain. There was no sign of them at all, which was getting a little frustrating, if he was being honest. They were mingling too, so it shouldn’t be so hard to track them down. Yet it was.

It had reached about an hour of looking when Mark finally had an idea. Well, the Captain always seemed to appear when he needed them. So, he needed them. Right now. Time to see if that minor acting degree he took would’ve worked out.

He found a relatively quiet spot in one of the rooms and stationed himself next to a door, leaning against the wall. A solemn, resting bitch face as his appearance.

“Ugh.. Such an idiot, should’ve kept a better eye on them or asked where they were headed. They probably don’t want to see me with how hard it is to find them. I wonder if I upset them somehow? Wouldn’t surprise me. I’m told I can be rather insufferable.” Mark voiced aloud to himself, in a whisper.

“And why would you think that?” Queried a familiar voice.

Mark looked up and stood in the doorway was the Captain. He chuckled.

“Well, it’s true, people do say I can be rather insufferable.”

“Mmm, never to me though.” They spoke, moving to stand in front of Mark and taking his hand. “And I will make sure you know that. I do.”

They gave him a soft look, with their soft grey eyes, as they ran a hand through their silver streaks of hair.

“Would you care to turn in for the night?” They asked him.

“Yes, I’d like that very much so.” Agreed Mark, with a dopey smile on his face.

Captain gently pulled him up and over to their side, wrapping an arm around his waist as the pair walked back to the Invincible II.

“Did you have a good evening?”

“Yes. I spoke with Allu and Bandit. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Mhm, discussions and alien alcohol turns out to be quite enjoyable.”

A chuckle.

“I guessed that maybe that’s what you were doing with them all.”

“Well, you know your crew very well Cap, what can I say?”

“Indeed. You wanna know what I also know well?”

“What?”

“My boyfriend. And the fact that after a few hours of us being apart you tend to get clingy.”

“…No I don’t.”

“Ah. So, Bandit telling me you’ve been wandering by yourself for an hour through all the rooms is a lie?”

“….Yes.”

“That wasn’t exactly a certain answer, my dear. You wouldn’t lie to your captain would you?”

“..No.”

“There you go again, dear. Honestly.”

“…Ugh. Fine. I was clingy. I did miss you. Happy?”

“Very much so, it’s always nice to hear it from you, Sunshine.”

“I think you just enjoy embarrassing me, Moonlight.”

“Mm, maybe a bit of both then.”

“You’re mean.”

“Oh, well I apologise. How about I unroll the heated blanket tonight as an apology?”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you, sweets.”

The pair stepped into Captain’s room, they having yet to have let go of Mark.

“Do you want me to go and change?” Asked Mark, surprised at the change in routine.

“You can just borrow some of my clothes.” Spoke Captain, with a casual hum.

Mark flushed at this.

“A-Alright.”

They walked over to the wardrobe and picked up two sets of clothes, handing one over to Mark.

“I’ll be changing in the bathroom, let me know if you’re done changing.”

Mark nodded in reply, cheeks still pink as he held the clothing a little smitten by the idea of wearing their clothes.

He sat on their bed, dressed in the clothes he’d been given. It was soft and warm and cosy and smelt just like the Captain. He was bright red and they weren’t in the same room as him anymore. Sheepishly, he smelt the shirt's collar with a content hum as he waited.

Too engulfed in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear someone clamber up behind him until they’d wrapped their arms around his waist. He flushed further at this, hiding his face in his hands.

“Enjoying yourself?” Grinned Captain. He could hear the tease in their voice.

“How long were you there?” He hissed at them, ears turning red now too.

“Long enough, my love. Long enough.” They kissed him on the side of the head.

Mark groaned to himself, quietly.

Captain chuckled.

“Well, if you’re quite done, absorbing my shirt into your nose, I’m gonna get the heated blanket.”

“I wasn’t doing that!” Protested Mark.

“That’s what it looked like, dearest.”

“I was only smelling it.. It gets rid of all the overwhelming people and food smells.”

They’d gotten up at this point, and kissed him on the head.

“I know dear, I was only teasing. It’s why I let you bury your face into my shoulder so much.”

Mark huffed at this, amused, running a hand through his hair. They did.

“You get comfy.” Added Captain, squeezing his shoulder lightly before going to find the blanket for the pair.

It was going to be one cosy night.

[countlessrealities]

Are there any instruments that you play? Do you sing? { For Evil Rick, SR and AR }

Unprompted asks || Always accepting !

The guard and the black market dealer exchange a look at the query, the first already starting to look a little uneasy while the latter is smirking widely. Evil Rick's expression, instead, remains emotionless as per usual.

"Uh, d-damn if that isn't a question tha-that brings back some old memories. A-At least for me. S-Someone still hasn't gotten over his punk phase," SR speaks up first, shooting a meaningful look in his best friend's direction and earning a snort in response. "I-I had my...Flesh Curtains phase, like most Ricks. B-But, uh, I was more of an instrument player than a singer. I-I left that part to Birdperson."

"An-And with that he means tha-that his singing is shit," AR steps in with a snicker, clearly delighted to have the chance to tease the other in public. "I-I got him to do karaoke with me once an-and daaaamn, I-I'll regret it for the rest of my sorry life."

"Hey! I-I'm not that bad!" The guard protests, but his embarrassed expression seems to tell another story. "I-I swear, AR, if you don't shut the fuck up..."

Of course, his words fall to deaf ears, as they often do whenever he is addressing them to that walking menace he calls his best friend. Now that he has gotten started the idiot won't shut up till he decides that he has had enough fun.

"Y-Yes, you are, mate," the black market dealer argues back, unfazed by the unfinished threat. If something, it seems to have amused him even more. "B-But this guy," he points towards the other with his thumb, "can fuckin' rock a guitar. T-The drummers too, but fuck, y-you should see how he gets with a guitar in hand. I-I didn't recognise him the first time! H-he's real freakin' wild. L-Like, shit, his Mr Boring persona totally falls of an-and he becomes this unhinged dude w-who got some goddamn good moves an-and, lemme tell you, it's kinda hot. E-Especially when he..."

"G-God fuckin' dammit, AR! Shut. Up!"

"W-What? Don't tell me that y-you're that embarrassed of y-...mhpf!"

Whatever was supposed to come next is silenced by a gloved hand forcefully slapped over AR's mouth.

"T-This idiot can sing...really well, I-I can't deny it...and he plays the bass," the guard finishes, answering the question in place of his best friend. "An-And he also writes song that are...good. An-And this is all two two of us are saying."

And with that, he grabs the younger version of himself by the collar and drags him away.

"..."

A beat of silence.

"I-I've never met Birdperson and Squanchy. For what I know, they never existed in my original dimension," Rick speaks up in a flat tone. "I-I never had a bad, never made myself look like a fool on stage. But...I do like certain kinds of music. A-Are there any instruments that I play? Yes. The piano, the organ and...I can do something with a guitar. D-Do you sing? Yes."

As soon as the last word is out of his mouth, he turns on his heels and stalks away. The exchange, in his eyes, is clearly over.