#and promptly sat on my shoulder like a parrot

[geeky-politics-46]

Like Bunnies

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: What better way to celebrate Easter than by doing what bunnies do best?

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - dirty talk, pet names, language, costume play, slight dom/sub, slight breeding kink, fingering, reference to oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, inappropriate use of the names mommy & daddy, slight mommy kink if you squint.

You and Stephen had spent all afternoon painting Easter eggs with Donna. Granted you did most of the painting. Donna spent more time playing in the vegetable dye and Stephen tried to keep the mess under control. That included keeping Donna's favorite little stuffed bunny, Bunny, it's original white color by keeping it perched on his shoulder like it was a parrot. Much to her delight and admittedly your own.

He drew the line at sporting a pair of bunny ears though. Even if they matched the ones both you and Donna were wearing, and even if no one else would see it. He was much better at being carefree and silly than he used to be, but he was still stubborn in keeping up his dark appearance. Just in case anyone entered your universe unexpectedly. 

The bright colored eggs looked nearly fluorescent against the Sanctum decor as they finished drying. Even though a good majority of them had ended up in varying shades of purple, Donna's favorite color because it matched her father's magic. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

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

By the time he put her to bed you had changed into your pajamas and started hiding the painted eggs throughout the Sanctum. You left the bunny ears on. It just seemed right. 

You were in your own little world as you went about your business and were completely oblivious to the sounds of your husband entering the living room once again. Flopping down on the couch and putting his feet up on the ottoman.

"Well now, how did a Playboy bunny sneak in here? Too bad there's no way she could be any sexier than my wife is already."

Peeking over your shoulder, you saw him smiling seductively at you. One eyebrow raised as if he was daring you to come over and respond to him. His blue eyes twinkling in the lights. 

"Ha, ha, Stephen. Very funny. Are you gonna help me hide these or are you just gonna sit there and watch?" 

He gestured for you to continue. Crossing his ankles. Reclining as much as he could on the settee. Resting his chin on one hand and following your figure as you moved through the room.

"Oh, I'm just gonna watch. Save my energy for other bunny activities. Especially with such a pretty little mama bunny hopping about. I will help with one thing though…" 

A wide mischievous grin on his face as he snapped his fingers and your pj's magically transformed into a skin tight black satin Playboy bunny costume paired with sky-high black stiletto boots. Complete with white collar, cuffs, black satin bunny ears, and white fluffy cotton tail.

You couldn't help but start laughing, setting down the basket of dyed eggs you had been holding before walking over to the mirror to get a better look at yourself. On one hand you thought you looked absurd, but on the other you had to admit the bustier part of the costume did make your boobs look incredible. You also happened to notice that your name tag, which was pinned to one hip, simply said Mrs. Strange

So as you adjusted your ears so one was bent down a little more than the other you let your eyes lock with Stephen's through the mirror. Giving him an exaggerated wink and a wiggle of your puffy tail adorned bottom. Hearing the little entertained and excited growl that came from your husband gave you the most devious smile.

You turned on a heel and promptly started to sashay over to where Stephen sat on the couch. Adding an extra bounce in your step so your breasts would jiggle as you walked. Swinging your hips a little more when you caught his eyes trailing hungrily up and down your form.

"So these other bunny activities, the ones you are saving your energy for, that must be hutch building and carrot farming right? What else could a sweet little mama bunny, like me, and a big strong daddy bunny, like you, get up to all by ourselves?" 

He took your hand in his and led you over, encouraging you to straddle his lap. Your hands coming to rest on his shoulders and his hands rubbing gently up and down your fishnet stocking clad thighs. As you went to settle yourself down in his lap you gave your tail another little wiggle, making him laugh before reaching up to squeeze the soft white puff with one hand and one of your ass cheeks with the other.

You leaned down to press a quick innocent kiss to his lips before pulling back to sit up.  Checking the placement of your bunny ears while you waited for him to come up with his response. 

"Well there is something else that bunnies are quite well known for, my dear. Although I feel like we could give lots of those other bunnies a run for their money with as much fun as we have. As much as we like to fuck like bunnies." 

He teasingly trailed his index finger up and down you arms, dancing along the tops of your breasts before skimming down the center of your body. Feeling every curve and valley, all exaggerated and made more lush by your costume. His eyes glazed over in lust and adoration. Licking his lips in anticipation. 

You hummed in pleasure and let your eyes close. Enjoying the delicate way he touched you. Even when he was rougher he always paid such careful attention to how he touched and held you. Knew just the right pressure and which buttons to press to tread the line between pain and pleasure. 

You were one of the most precious things he had ever beheld, and he always treated you that way. With reverence. 

"I do believe that's how we ended up with our baby bunny."

You went to stand back up so you could finish hiding the Easter eggs before Stephen could get carried away and your evening would take a turn towards the explicit. You knew it was going that way sooner or later, and you could only hold yourself back for so long too.

He stopped you in place and refused to let you off of his lap. Instead he buried his face in your cleavage, now very much on display, leaving a trail of kisses and love nips behind. Finally letting his chin rest on your sternum and looking up at you through hooded eyes.

"Maybe I wouldn't mind making a few more baby bunnies with you. At the very least I want to keep practicing like bunnies. So what do you think mama? Gonna hop up and down on my cock like a good little bunny?"

You leaned down and pressed a deep kiss to his lips. Letting your tongue lick into his mouth as your fingers began to teasingly pull at his hair at the nape of his neck. Smiling as you heard him moan into your kiss. Slowly pulling back just enough to speak, letting your nose continue to rub against his.

"I'm always your good little bunny, aren't I?" 

You raised up off his lap just enough for him to put his legs down from the ottoman. Slowly you started to slide your body down his, moving to spread his legs and position yourself on your knees between them. Peeking up at him innocently through your eyelashes. 

"You are always very good, and very good to me too. Which is why as much as you know I enjoy seeing you on your knees for me, that's not where I want you tonight." 

You started to undo his belt and his robes. Luckily you had plenty of practice undoing all the intricate buckles and fastenings. Making quick work to get to his pants so you begin undoing them too.

"Well I just figured that really good little bunnies, especially mommy bunnies who want to take care of daddy bunnies, should help get those daddy bunny cocks ready to bounce on." 

You leaned down to press a kiss in the quickly growing bulge in his pants. Nuzzling your cheek against the shaft of his erection. Looking far too innocent and utterly sinful at the same time.

"Ears, collar, and cuffs stay on darling. I would say the boots stay on too, but my sexy little bunny can probably bounce better without them. Maybe we can have some fun with them tomorrow night. Now get that cute little ass back up here on my lap right this second, you've already done quite enough to get me ready."

Again with the snap of his fingers, as you crawled back up to straddle him once more, your costume and Stephen's robes vanished. Leaving the two of you bare except for the aforementioned accessories. He growled as he felt the heat from your skin against his. Pulling you closer and stretching his fingers to feel as much of you in his grasp as possible.

"The question is, is my sweet bunny ready for me? Hmm?" 

He wrapped one arm around your waist and let his other hand trail between your bodies. Bringing his fingertips to tease at your sex. Sliding them along your slit before pulling your pussy lips apart with his index and ring fingers just far enough to dip his middle finger inside you. Gathering your slick before moving his fingers back up to begin rubbing small circles on your clit. 

Your eyes closed and your back arched, pushing you farther into his touch. His lips attacking your neck and chest. Your hips starting to roll forwards and backwards. Eventually lowering yourself down so his hard cock slotted directly between your wet pussy lips. Not only working to get even more direct stimulation but working to spread your arousal along Stephen's shaft, getting him nice and lubed up for you.

He let his hand that had been playing with your clit drift up to play with your nipple that wasn't already being circled with his tongue. Holding his other palm on the small of your back to help you grind against him. You could feel him smiling against your breast when he heard you whimpering softly and your fingers gripping in his hair.

"You feel so perfect baby. I will never ever get enough of you darling. Love everything about you. Such a good wife and mama. My sweet, perfect, sexy bunny." 

He brought his lips up to yours and kissed you passionately. Wrapping both arms tight around you and thrusting his hips up against you. Your bodies working to mold to each other, wanting to have as much skin in contact as possible. 

"Mmm, love you too Stephen. I got so lucky when I found you here. Need to feel you inside me now baby. Need to bounce on your cock like a good slutty little bunny."

He let you pull away just enough so you could reach down and position the blunt head of his leaking cock at your opening. Exhaling in relief as you started to press your hips down, feeling your cunt start to stretch around him. The intrusion of his warm hard length making you feel whole. Feeling more complete with each veiny velvety inch.

You couldn't help but smile at the blissed out expression on Stephen's face. His eyes closed and his mouth hung open. His breathing slow and deep. All the normal lines and wrinkles on his face smoothed out or softened. He was never as at peace as he was when he was inside you.

On one hand you always wanted to stay in this moment forever. This was the side of him that you fell head over heels for. All pretense of his formidable power and all the weight he carried from what he had down forgotten momentarily, this side of him was just a normal man. This was a man that you knew you were the only one to ever witness. 

On the other hand you desperately needed to move. To make him feel good. To take your pleasure in him and let him take pleasure in you. You couldn't possibly stay still much longer.

So after getting a better grip on Stephen's shoulders, you slowly started to rock forwards and backwards. Hardly lifting up to start. Moving just enough to bring both of you back to focus. You were currently in the middle of the living room, and with a little one running around you two couldn't drag your romp out for too long.

Stephen's fingers were starting to dig tighter into your hips as each second passed. Urging you to keep going. The needy little huffs he gave through his nose were really what egged you on though. 

"That feel good Stephen? Does my pussy feel good? Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me how you want me to ride you daddy." 

A needy little groan came from the back of his throat. He knew that you already knew how good you felt and knew exactly what he wanted. The fact that you wanted him to explicitly tell you made him melt. For all his big talk you knew your big scary sorcerer had a tendency to like being a sub once you got started.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby. You know I would spend every second of every day inside you if I could. I pretty much did before Donna. Fuck! So good." 

He bit his lower lip and emitted yet another needy high pitched moan. Finally opening his pretty blue eyes to look up directly into yours. The normal clear bright blue orbs now hazy and glassy, already so lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

"Want it harder my love. Ride me harder mommy. Want to hear you bouncing on my cock. Want you to bounce so hard you knock those bunny ears off. Need it. Need to be nice and deep in your perfect cunt.”

You took his cheek in the palm of our hand, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. Cooing at your sweet sorcerer. You had to admit that the Playboy bunny costume had made you feel kind of powerful. The idea of not just being the subject of your husband's desires, but of so many men.

"Oh baby, let me hear you ask all nice. Say please. Say 'please my sexy little bunny, hop on my cock until i cum'. Then I will gladly do whatever you want, Stephen."

You felt his hips start to gently thrust up underneath you. Your words getting him even more excited. You could practically feel him throb as he spoke.

"Please baby, my sexy little bunny. Hop on my cock until I cum. Wanna fill you up mama. Pretty please baby."

A sly grin forming on your lips as you started to lift up and down with a little more vigor. Still starting nice and easy but picking up both your speed and force. The sound of your wet cunt gripping his length and the sound of your hips coming down on him made Stephen whimper.

You leaned down to kiss him softly, stopping your movements and placing a teasing lick across his lips. Pulling back just enough to whisper against the soft swollen flesh.

"Good boy."

His hips lurched upward at the praise and you took that as your cue to really start moving. Lifting yourself up all the way to his tip and slamming yourself back down in his lap all the way. The delicious yelp that came from your sweet sorcerer's lips was nearly enough to throw you over the edge all by itself. 

As you started to ride him hard and fast you felt his grip on your ass tighten. Holding onto you for dear life as you did exactly as he wanted, having made him ask so nicely for it. 

The sound of skin on skin became louder in tandem with the moans that fell from both of you. Your volume increasing as you felt his tip rub up against that perfect little spongy spot on the front of your inner wall. The heat starting to build in your low belly growing as you started to lose a steady rhythm. 

Chasing after your climax and rolling your hips to grind your clit against Stephen's pubic bone. You grit your teeth and dug your nails into his shoulders. Moving faster and faster. Knowing that feeling you squeeze his cock as you came would make him fall apart for you.

"Oh fuck Stephen, I'm gonna cum. Fuck up into me daddy, don't fucking stop until you feel me cum on your cock. Wanna cum so you can fill me full baby. Make me cum Stephen." 

You kept doing your best to bounce up and down on him as he started thrusting up into you. His balls slapping up into your ass and your slick starting to drip down his balls. Your black satin bunny ears finally starting to inch backwards on your head.

He gave a quick slap to your ass with both hands before he tightened his arms around you and began pounding his hips up into you. The blood rushing in his ears and your sweet little whimpers were the only things he could hear. His need to bring you to climax driving him closer to his own end.

"I can tell you're close. bunny. That's it my sexy bunny. Need to cum in you mommy. You take my cock so good. Perfect bunny, perfect fucking pussy." 

You felt yourself clamp down on his cock and drench him. Throwing your head back and successfully knocking your bunny ears off. Bringing one hand up to cover your mouth and muffle your own moans and screams your delicious release. 

Finally letting your head fall against Stephen's shoulder burying your face in his soft warm skin. Biting at the flesh there with each aftershock. Your cunt milking him more with each burst. 

His own head buried in your neck as he suddenly broke apart underneath you. Spilling inside you and filling you with his thick warm cum. His whines and pleas whispered into your ear. Slowly moving back to your lips and posessively thrusting his tongue into your mouth. Letting your kisses and your cunt battle over which one could suck his soul from his body first.

You two stayed there only a few moments. Holding each other tight and feeling both your bodies come down from their high together. You snuggled into his neck and inhaled deeply, feeling content to stay right where you were despite knowing the two of you should move from the living room to a more private space. Just in case your daughter woke up and wandered out of her room. 

Without warning you felt Stephen let one arm go from your waist and gesture into the air. Just like they had vanished before, suddenly you found yourself dressed again. 

Stephen was back in his robes but this time, instead if your pajamas or the Playboy bunny outfit you were wearing a short silky black robe. Clearly communicating that your husband had more plans for you yet that night. 

"Come on darling, let's go to the bedroom. Why don't you take a nice hot bath while I finish hiding all those eggs? Then we can get back to our bunny activities." 

With a quick kiss and swat to you ass he sent you off to prepare for what was sure to be a long and fun night. You knew you would be spending it occupied with lots more naughty bunny activities.

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

The next day the three of you were piled in the large bed you shared with Stephen. Donna was contently laying across the foot of the bed coloring in the new book the Easter Bunny had brought, with her little stuffed bunny tucked under one arm, while you and Stephen were busy snuggling and sharing a bag of jelly bird eggs. He had very kindly agreed to eat all the black licorice ones that you hated. 

After Stephen gave you a thank you kiss for feeding him a jelly bean Donna cleared her throat to get both of your attention. Suddenly you found her sitting up on her little knees, arms crossed and staring at you both. Bunny was staring at you both too. She was clearly doing her best to look as authoritative as possible.

"Bunny says he thinks I need a brother or sister. We love you and daddy, but we get bored and want someone else to play with. So I don’t know how we get one, but I want one."

You aren't sure whether Stephen had talked her into asking for a sibling, and the mischievous excited smile on his face was making you doubt his innocence even more. You arched an eyebrow at him suspiciously before letting out a tiny little snort, failing to contain a chuckle. You simply shook your head before answering, speaking as much to Stephen as you were to Donna.

"Does he now? Well tell Bunny that maybe your daddy and I will see what we can do about that. If all three of you are good. You, Bunny, and Daddy."

You sneakily offered your husband an extra little wink that you knew your daughter wouldn't catch. It wasn't a promise, but it was a little acknowledgement that you would think about it. 

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[khwxbeeda]

Kajal

Written because I have raghveer brainrot and you can't stop me from indulging in it muahahahahaaaa

.

"Raghav, zara idhar aana toh."

Raghav looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrows at Ranveer, who was standing in front of the studio mirror with a furrow in his eyebrows and some sort of pen in his hand— wait no, that wasn't a pen, it was a kajal pencil.

"Kay zhala?" He asked. "I'm watching our video again; I need to fix my posture at that one point where we spin—"

"Arey, woh rehne de," Ranveer said, flapping his hand impatiently, still glaring at the kajal pencil like it had personally offended him. It was hilarious. "Help me with this."

Raghav bit down on the inside of his cheek to stifle his laugh and set his phone down. He sauntered over to the other boy and held out a hand, silently asking him to hand the pencil over. Ranveer obliged.

"My Ma used to apply kajal under my eyes until I turned thirteen," he offered in way of explanation, "and I wanna pick the habit up again. But, I have no idea what to do."

Raghav sniggered, and Ranveer smacked him upside the head, making him squawk indignantly. "Hey! Swatah cha swatah kar if you wanna keep hitting me!"

Ranveer gave him a look. "I don't understand Marathi that well, idiot."

The shorter boy rolled his eyes. "I said, do it yourself. Now shut up and stay still."

He pushed himself up onto his tip-toes, and Ranveer looked at the ceiling. Raghav raised the pencil and— promptly stumbled and dropped back down onto his heels. He huffed and rose up again, raising the other hand to grip Ranveer's shoulder, resolutely ignoring the ripple of muscles under his thin white kurta to move the pencil to Ranveer's eye.

Ranveer shifted. Raghav stumbled again.

He cursed his blasted height under his breath, and Ranveer snickered.

"Aww, am I too tall?" he asked in a faux apologetic voice. "It's okay to be short, you know—" he cut off with a wheeze, doubling over and clutching his stomach where Raghav had elbowed him. "Ouch, keep your elbows to yourself, man!"

"Keep your quips to yourself, man!" Raghav parroted back in a terrible imitation of Ranveer's deep voice, nose scrunched in annoyance, and Ranveer could not help but snort. "Says the tiny one—"

In one swift move, Raghav knocked his foot against the back of Ranveer's knee and pushed him back by the chest. Ranveer yelped as he fell on his ass, but the next second Raghav was following him down to the floor and throwing a leg over his thighs to straddle his lap, effectively pinning him in place. Ranveer sat still, hands on the mirror behind him to stop his back from slamming into it, and stared in shock as Raghav narrowed his eyes and brandished the kajal pencil in a threatening manner.

"Ata shanta bas, nahi toh I will purposely mess up the kajal," he growled, but blinked when Ranveer laughed suddenly. "What?"

"Nothing, just—" Ranveer laughed again, leaning back against the mirror— "the way you said kajal is... it's cute."

Raghav felt his cheeks heat up at being called cute, but he rolled his eyes. "That's how you say it in Marathi. Kajal."

Ranveer tilted his head, then slowly tried saying it. "Kaa-jal."

It was Raghav's turn to start giggling, tipping his head forward to hide his smile behind his fringe. "Oh Gods," he said, still laughing, "that- that's not how you say it."

Ranveer couldn't take his eyes off of the adorable boy in his lap— he froze. Wait.

Fuck.

Raghav was in his lap.

Raghav was straddling his lap.

"How do you say it then?" he asked hurriedly, in an effort to take his mind off the fact that Raghav was in his lap, holy shit—

"Say it after me: ka-ja-la," Raghav said slowly, and Ranveer nodded.

"Ka-ja-da," he stumbled through the pronunciation, and Raghav giggled again oh Gods why is he so cute and why is he sitting in my lap—

"You Hindi speaking people," he said between soft tittering, "can't even pronounce ळ properly. It's honestly endearing."

Ranveer could feel himself melting despite his best efforts. Why, oh why was Raghav so cute? It was unfair; it was unhealthy for his heart, being subjected to this adorable display with Raghav sitting in his lap fucking hell whyyy—

"Ka-ja-la," Raghav repeated slowly, a smile curling up his lips. "Click your tongue to the floor of your mouth, and say la the way you say na in the word for arrow— बाण. काजळ."

Ranveer pulled himself together and tried again. "Kaa-ja-da— dammit."

Raghav snickered, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and Ranveer wanted to sink his own teeth into that soft, pillowy flesh—

"That-" the shorter boy choked out, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as if it could stifle the sound of his giggles. "You know what," he breathed between laughter, "just- just leave it. I'll teach you how to say kajal later. Atta mi tula he lavto, okay?"

Ranveer shrugged, nodded— and hurriedly bit down on his lip to stifle his groan when Raghav shifted forward in his lap, raising the pencil and pressing a hand to his cheek so he could use his thumb below to expose Ranveer's waterline.

Don't react, don't react, fuck, don't react—

He deliberately focused on the soft glide of the pencil on his skin, eyes looking up at the ceiling, instead of the fact that Raghav was sitting right on his hips, his thighs bracketing Ranveer's, his hand warm to the touch where it was laying across his cheek, gaze laser focused on his work—

He pulled away and shifted again, and Ranveer clenched his jaw at the spark of electricity that ran up his spine. His fingers curled where they were pressed into the floor of the studio, nails digging into the wood hard enough to hurt. The waterline of the other eye was pulled down, and Raghav got to work again, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he focused on the job at hand.

Ranveer did not move. He did not breathe.

What seemed like an eternity later, Raghav pulled back with a grin.

"There!" he exclaimed, gaze down as he slid the cap back onto the pencil. "Jhala! Now you can look in the mirro—"

He looked up and stopped mid sentence, eyes widening, and the way his pink lips parted oh-so-gently in surprise had Ranveer suppressing a frustrated groan. Gods fucking dammit Raghav can you not do that when you're literally in my fucking lap—

"I- oh-" Raghav stammered, a deep red flush blooming like fresh roses across his cheekbones, looking as if he had just now realised exactly where he was sitting. "I'm just- I'm just gonna—"

He tried to move away but Ranveer scrambled forward, hands involuntarily curling around his thighs to stop him from moving. "Nai, ruk ja—"

Raghav froze, and Ranveer suddenly comprehended where his hands were. Raghav's thighs were soft and supple, fingers so dangerously high up that he was almost brushing the cleft of his derrière. Ranveer breathed out slowly, raising his head to stare Raghav in the eyes.

"Tell me how I look," he breathed, and watched Raghav swallow thickly, the muscles of his neck shifting enticingly. He could barely recognise his own voice through the haze of sheer want that flooded his senses. He wanted to lean forward and attach his lips to that smooth skin, wanted to suck on the flesh and dig his teeth in till there were black and blue bruises all over, wanted to mark Raghav as his.

"Raghav," he murmured lowly, and revelled in the obvious shiver that ran through the shorter boy's body. "How do I look?"

The kajal pencil slipped out from between Raghav's fingers and clattered onto the wooden floor. Ranveer did not turn towards it; he did not give enough of a fuck about that silly stick, not when he had a lapful of Raghav with his thighs flexing under his hands, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

"How do I look, Raghav?" he asked again.

Raghav lunged.

Ranveer yelped as his back slammed into the mirror, but the sound was swallowed by Raghav's mouth. He gasped and kissed back, fingers tightening on those thighs, and Raghav slipped his tongue into Ranveer's mouth, running it over the back of his teeth and making him let out a soft, breathy sound.

Ranveer responded immediately, stroking his own tongue against Raghav's and shivering at the answering moan. The way Raghav kissed was heady, with his hands dragging up Ranveer's chest and shoulders to bury themselves into his hair, lips moving sensually and back arching so that Ranveer's hands slipped up and gripped his ass.

Raghav let out a wounded sound when Ranveer squeezed the soft, round flesh, and the kiss became dizzyingly hot— tongues roaming and lips slicking up with saliva, Raghav's hands tugging on long black hair and Ranveer's teeth sinking into a soft pink lip to nip at it.

They only pulled away because they ran out of breath.

Ranveer pressed his forehead to Raghav's and breathed deeply, eyes fluttering shut and heartbeat thundering in his ears.

"Fuck," he hissed, and Raghav huffed in agreement.

"Fuck," he repeated, lifting his head and staring at the boy in his lap with wide eyes. "That- fuck."

Raghav let out a wet giggle and nodded, leaning forward and arching his back so his ass pressed into Ranveer's palms, groaning when his fingers tightened reflexively. The move sent blood rushing south for Ranveer, and he gave Raghav a warning glare, but the boy simply smirked wickedly.

"Now you know how you look," he said slyly, eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction. Ranveer sighed and shook his head, a reluctant smile curling his lips.

"Demon," he said fondly, and then Raghav's lips were back on his.

.

@orgasming-caterpillar @musaafir-hun-yaaron @h0bg0blin-meat @shanti-ashant-hai

[justhere4thevibez]

Write me a Drabble about a cute spur-of-the-moment date night for Hellcheer 💗

goofy silly spur-of-the-moment date night coming right up!

“Come on, come on!”

“Damn, Chrissy, let me get my shoes on first,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

He slipped on his sneakers with one hand and braced the other against the front door of the trailer to keep his balance while Chrissy tugged restlessly at his shirt.

“Okay, I’m good.” He let her lead him out to the van, where she pushed him into the driver’s seat and promptly climbed in the other side. “Where are we going, sweet thing?”

“The Hideout,” she said firmly, waving her hand for him to get started.

With a sigh, he shifted into gear. “Are you going to tell me why?”

“Mr. Impatient,” she teased with a smile. God, she was gorgeous. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

With a shake of his head, Eddie drove to the Hideout. Not that he’d even considered denying her—ever since Chrissy waltzed into his life he’d been at her beck and call (and loved every minute of it). But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little baffled as to why they were going to the Hideout on a Thursday. Nobody played on Thursdays—nobody good, at least—so why bother? At least when he played they could get free drinks.

“Alright, angel, we’re here,” Eddie said as he shifted into park. “Now what?”

“Can I have your bandana?” she asked, giving him an innocent smile that he knew better than to trust. But, of course, he still gave it to her.

“Now close your eyes,” she instructed.

“Getting kinky on me, sweetheart?” he asked as he obediently shut his eyes.

“No,” she said, giggling like she was very pleased with herself. “Don’t move.”

She slid something over his face, something that definitely wasn’t his bandana. He lifted his hand to his right eye just as something soft plopped on his head.

“Chrissy—” he glanced in the rearview mirror just to double check, but he could only see out of one eye. “Is this an eyepatch?”

Chrissy didn’t respond, she just looked at him innocently as she tied his bandana around her head. He ducked down to see what else she’d put on him, and lo and behold, a pirate’s hat with a giant, fluffy feather sat squarely upon his head.

“What the hell—”

Chrissy had her lips pinched together like she was desperately trying to stay serious, and when he looked over again she had a stuffed animal owl on her shoulder.

“It was as close as I could get to a parrot,” she said apologetically, like the bird on her shoulder was his biggest grievance.

“Chrissy, sweetheart, darling,” Eddie said, cupping her hands to his chest. “What the fuck are we doing dressed as pirates?”

She batter her eyelashes at him innocently. “Tonight’s half off drinks if you do.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

She pointed out the window, and he saw several people dressed in various half-assed pirate gear. One guy even had on a full captain’s costume, complete with a sword and everything. Fuck, they’d better not let that idiot get drunk or somebody might leave tonight with a real pirate peg-leg.

He turned back to her with a suspicious glare. “Okay, but why do you get to look cute in a bandana while I get this goofy-ass hat?”

Chrissy shrugged as she jumped out of the van. “You’ve got the hair for it.” She looked back at him, all enticing blue eyes and pouty lips. “Are you coming?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed, making the pirate’s hat shake precariously. He loved her so fucking much.

“Aye-aye, captain.”

[somerandomdutchfangirl]

Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary:  They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!  

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.  

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."  

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje. 

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"  

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.  

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."  

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.  

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.  

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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

Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

[firstfrostfall]

A Cold Lament - Chapter One

a tommy shelby fanfiction

In the winter of 1918, the Shelby brothers returned home from a war-torn France. In the winter of the following year, the middle brother, Tommy, recognizes an opportunity for his family to move up in the world, and it came in the shape of a misplaced crate of weapons.

In the meantime, per the request of his aunt, he gives a struggling young woman a job.

Little did he know, that like the smell of snow on the wind in late autumn, everything was going to change, and it wasn’t just because of some stolen guns.

Takes place during Season One.

“This is a story, told the way you say stories should be told: Somebody grew up, fell in love, and spent a winter with her lover in the country. This, of course, is the barest outline, and futile to discuss. It's as pointless as throwing birdseed on the ground while snow still falls fast. Who expects small things to survive when even the largest get lost? People forget years and remember moments. Seconds and symbols are left to sum things up: the black shroud over the pool. Love, in its shortest form, becomes a word. What I remember about all that time is one winter. The snow. Even now, saying ‘snow,’ my lips move so that they kiss the air.” - Ann Beattie, Snow

WINTER, 1918

Tommy returned from France in the afternoon, after days of riding in a cramped train. Before that, he was crammed in the back of a cattle truck, and before that, well, he was deep underground, caked in mud and blood, digging away in a French tunnel.

It was cold when he stepped off of the cart, shoulder-to-shoulder with his brothers and the hundreds of other men who piled onto the platform. Former soldiers, all of them. Former. What did that make them now?

The sky was a broad, gray hand, and the wind smelled like snow. It was that certain smell that came around when the trees were bare and noses were red. Clean and winter, wide open. Like the whole world was about to change.

For two weeks after returning home, Tommy filled his days with other people, so as to avoid the quiet. Work with Polly in the shop, cards with Arthur at the Garrison, guns, and horses with John, nights with the same pool of working girls over and over again. Without people, the emptiness that came along with the quiet consumed him. He tried to remember what he was like, before the war, but he soon learned that it was impossible to recall, because he was in the after now.

At night, he would lie awake in bed, smoking an endless chain of cigarettes to avoid sleep. Not that it came easy to him, anyway. But there were times, albeit few and far between, where he would fall asleep, and he would find the quiet. Or, rather, the quiet would find him.

The quiet parts were all nightmares, dark rivers of mud and lost souls. He could never tell whether they were souls he knew now, or if they were people from the past, soldiers, screaming in voices made of wire. He would wake with a start, panting and covered in sweat, followed by a sense of relief that it was over. It wasn’t real. Sometimes the dreams would follow him during the day, usually in the sounds of shovels scraping against his wall when it was just him, alone in his bedroom, and the only other noise was the heavy thumping of his heart.

When the dreams that chased him into the day became more frequent, the cigarettes in bed turned into a pipe of opium. It kept the quiet out.

There were few opportunities after the war. Most jobs were an exercise in shared misery, toiling away in a factory for 15 hours a day- at least. So, he took matters into his own hands. It started as glancing encounters with petty crimes. Little shipments of illegal goods, a fixed race or two, then a little more, and a little more… Instead of people, Tommy found a new way to keep the quiet at bay.

Organized crime was a lucrative business, after all. Under the umbrella of the Peaky Blinders, it gave his family name a new sense of meaning, a sense of power.

And then, as if by divine intervention, a crate of guns were dropped at his doorstep. From that moment on, just like the smell of snow, the whole world changed. His whole world changed.

THE BRINK OF WINTER, 1919

He was at The Garrison with his brothers, sipping whiskey and listening to the two of them argue. Cards were scattered across the table, each play held in place by half-empty pints of beer and overflowing ashtrays. Their shared cigarette smoke made the air in the tiny room hazy and thick, so much so that Tommy could feel his eyes stinging each time he blinked.

They were in the middle of a card game until Arthur was losing and subsequently blamed it on John for cheating. Arthur had put a heavy wager on himself winning, which was a poor move on his part- John always cheated at cards. Tommy shook his head, their bickering nothing but static in the back of his mind. Another way to keep out the quiet.

Their argument was interrupted by a knock on the window that separated their private room from the bar. Arthur’s words slurred together and bellowed something along the lines of “open up,” at whoever was knocking. The barkeep, Harry, poked his head through.

“Good, uh, morning,” He nodded to the three of them. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but, there’s a boy here asking for Mr. Shelby.”

“Which one?” John laughed, sipping his pint as he elbowed Arthur in the side.

Harry leaned away to shout a question at someone from across the bar, before turning back to them. “Thomas, he says.”

“The one who matters the most,” Tommy deadpanned, a slight smirk on his lips. He waved a hand at the barkeep. “Send him in.”

Harry muttered a quick “yes, sir” and promptly closed the window.

Arthur, who sat closest to the door, kicked it open. A young man, who really was more of a boy, after all, stood before them. Removing his cap and gripping it tightly in between his fingers, he took a few hesitant steps into the snug.

“Mrs. Gray says she needs you at the shop, Mr. Shelby,” He shifted from foot to foot. “At once, she said.”

“At once,” Arthur repeated with a grin, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.  “What did you do now, eh?”

“Looks like I’m on my way to find out,” Tommy pushed himself up from the booth and finished the rest of his whiskey in one swig. “Tell Mrs. Gray I’ll be right there,” He nodded to the boy and flicked a spare coin from his waistcoat at him. “Go on now.”

Tommy shrugged on his cap and jacket and followed the boy out of the pub, a fresh cigarette perched between his lips. He walked through the streets of Small Heath with his hands shoved in his pockets, watching the boy’s pace hasten in front of him from under his cap. The sky was dark, a thick curtain of gray, save for the tiny bulb of sun that just barely broke through the clouds. It was ominous, no doubt threatening a chilling rainstorm later, or perhaps, snow.

It was almost winter again.

He tipped the brim of his cap to the nameless working men who flitted in and out of the betting shop, a cloud of breath escaping their lips with each hurried “G’day, Mr. Shelby” that they gave him in passing.

The shop was busy, filled with the chattering of hopefuls who placed bets, the sound of a man shouting names and scratching too little chalk across the green board. He noticed his aunt, Polly Gray, hunched over a desk, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. She fidgeted with a cigarette in between two fingers while she read over what he could only assume was a packet of ledgers.

He stopped short in front of her. “You needed me?”

“Oh, Thomas,” She flicked the ash from her cigarette and sat up, the legs of the chair scraping against the uneven floorboards. “What’s your schedule for tomorrow?”

“Not sure,” He replied, “Depends on who’s asking.”

Polly scoffed, beckoning him to follow with a flick of her wrist. “Your aunt’s asking, come with me.” She led him to their family’s parlor, allowing him to step ahead of her while she drew the curtains that separated them from the rest of the shop.

“I have a favor to ask,” She glanced at him from over her shoulder, balancing the cigarette between her lips while she tied the curtains together tightly. She let out an audible sigh and finally turned around to face him.

Tommy leaned against the wall, still tending to his own dwindling cigarette. “What’s the favor?”

“I need to hire someone.”

“Who?”

“A friend,” She replied. “Well, the niece of a friend.”

“Niece?”

“Are you a fucking parrot?” Polly snapped at him. Shaking her head, she leaned over the table to twist out the remaining stub of her cigarette into an ashtray. “I’d have already hired her myself, but since you’ve been back, I need to jump through a few more hoops before making any executive decisions.” She sighed, clearly bitter. “Nothing gets done without your knowledge.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Who is she?”

“I know her aunt from church, she asked me if I could get her a job.”

“You’re asking me for a favor? For another favor?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Seems like a bad deal to me.”

“I didn’t ask if it was a bad deal or not, I asked if I could hire someone.”

He exhaled, bringing the cigarette to his lips and looking away from her. A headache started building up in the back of his skull. “Why here?”

“She trusts that I’ll look out for her niece,” Polly answered quickly, “She has many children of her own, she can’t afford another mouth to feed anymore. Her husband died in France,” Polly paused, taking a seat at the table. “The bottom line is, she thought to ask me for help, and that means something.”

“What’s the name?”

“Caldwell.”

Tommy remained silent for a long while.

“She’s having hard times, and doesn’t want to kick her own flesh and blood out onto the curb.”

“Aren’t we all having hard times?” He raised an eyebrow.

“She’s desperate. Will you help me, or not?”

“This isn't women’s business.”

Polly rolled her eyes. “Her aunt was good to me, while you boys were away at war, back when it was women’s business,” Polly rolled her eyes. “I’m just trying to pay that good nature forward.”

“Since when did you start paying things forward?”

“Since today,” She huffed, “I’ll ask again. Will you help me or not?”

“Why should I waste company resources on a girl we don’t know, for a job we don’t have. Have you met her before?”

Polly glanced away from him, purposefully silent while tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Her aunt says she’s a good girl.”

“A good girl,” Tommy scoffed, dropping the stub of his cigarette into the ashtray at the center of the table. “Exactly what we need, a good girl . So you don’t know her?”

“Says she’s a hard worker too.”

“Do you even know her name?” He narrowed his eyes at her and then added. “Besides the surname.”

Polly avoided his gaze, instead fidgeting with the golden rings on her fingers.

“Would you just give this a chance?” She cleared her throat. “You don’t even have to hire her. But would you at least see her? Interview her?”

“What job am I supposed to interview her for?” He blankly stared at her. “What have you promised?”

“I haven’t promised anything.” Polly continued, “But I know she’s good with numbers. She’s got certifications.”

“Ah, certifications,” He rolled his eyes, sarcasm lacing his voice. “I’d reckon then that she could find a job, literally, anywhere else.”

“It’s not that easy, Thomas,” Polly shook her head, “If you don’t want her working in the shop, we can find something else for her to do. It’ll be my responsibility.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Her aunt trusts me, she knows I’ll look after her. This is important to me.”

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. The headache that started in the back of his skull had traveled all of the way to his forehead now. When he opened his eyes, he saw a worry wracking his aunt’s face. He began walking toward the curtains but stopped short.

“I’ll see her tomorrow,” Tommy turned on his heel to face her, emphasizing each word with a jab of his finger. “Three o’clock at The Garrison. But if she’s even a second late, it’s over.”

Polly smiled, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Tommy tossed a cigarette stub onto the sidewalk and twisted it into the cement with the heel of his shoe. He pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat and peered at it, then glanced up at the gilded sign of The Garrison. It was almost three o’clock.

I’m asking as a favor, Thomas. Ridiculous. He was quickly learning that most favors were an additional headache for him.

The pub was empty, save for Harry who was wiping down the bar top. The barkeep caught his eye and tilted his head in the direction of a booth, where his aunt and another person sat. From where he stood, the other person was the back of a neat head of red hair. Polly didn’t notice him initially, seemingly engrossed in conversation, so he tipped his cap to Harry and made his way into the private room.

The window to the bar popped open, and the barkeep, ever-dutiful, appeared.

“Whiskey,” Tommy said, never looking directly at him. He took a seat at the booth and dropped his cap onto the empty space next to him. “And tell my aunt that I’ll be waiting in here, I’d like to speak with her first.”

Harry muttered a quick affirmation in response and disappeared from sight. By the time he returned with his drink in hand, there was a brisk knock at the main door to the room. Before Tommy could say anything, the door swung open, and it was Polly who stood there.

“You didn’t even say hello.”

“This is your favor,” He gave her a pointed nod. “Not mine.”

She rolled her eyes.

Tommy jerked his chin toward the pub. “You walked her here?”

“Keep your voice down, she’ll hear you,” Polly glanced behind her quickly and waved a hand at him. “Yes, I walked her here. I wanted to make a good impression.”

“A good impression, eh?” He motioned to her with the drink in his hand. “You’ve got an hour of my time. Bring her in.”

He didn’t have the slightest clue as to what job he was interviewing her for.

Polly couldn’t have left him anymore unprepared. He didn’t know anything about this girl, besides her surname, and perhaps that she could add a few numbers together, and her aunt was poor as the poorest. He vowed, at that very moment, that this would be the last time he would do a favor for anyone ever again.

He had better things to do. Better things that specifically involved a misplaced crate of guns that had fallen right into his lap a few days prior, and were currently gathering dust in Charlie Strong’s yard.

Polly left the door ajar. He turned to the frosted window that gave a blurry view of the streets beyond the pub. The sky was still overcast, just as it was the day before. The clouds were significantly darker, it looked like snow was more likely than rain. Then, an unfamiliar voice tore him from his musings. It was crisp and clear, with an accent that hinted at expensive schooling.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby.”

When Tommy turned to look at her, he wondered if he’d managed at all to mask his surprise. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t… this. By the sound of her accent and smooth skin of her face, this girl, or woman, rather, in front of him couldn’t have been any older than twenty. Young, with fair skin, dressed sharply in a cream blouse and green skirt, not a wrinkle or crease in sight. In one hand, she held a folder, and with the other, she brushed a few auburn curls behind her ear. She looked at him expectantly, giving a flash of a smile framed in bright red lips.

Polly painted him a completely different picture. He assumed this girl would be showing up in moth-eaten clothes, raspy voice from working in a factory of some sort, gangly and thin. She was thin, yes, but didn’t look impoverished. She looked like a high society bitch, dropped in the middle of a dreary factory town. It was humorous, in a way.

He took a measured sip of his drink and motioned for her to take a seat.

“Miss Caldwell, was it?” His voice trailed off as he studied her, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

“Anna,” She answered, smoothing out her skirt on her lap. “Anna Caldwell. Thank you for seeing me today, especially on such short notice.”

He could see why Polly walked her here, and it became quite clear to him that it wasn’t just to make a good impression. She, Anna , that was her name, didn’t fit in around Small Heath one bit. It was evident in the way she was dressed, and the way she spoke.

She looked greener than the fucking grass at Easter. Certainly didn’t fit in around Small Heath. Certainly not fit for waltzing around Small Heath.

“Yes, well,” He cleared his throat, “Polly spoke very highly of your aunt.”

“My aunt speaks highly of her,” She replied. “They got to know each other during the war, as I suppose many women did.”

Tommy nodded, reaching for his drink. For a while, he attempted to make small talk. It was like pulling fucking teeth. Eventually, he reached his breaking point and decided to cut to the chase. One could only talk about the weather for so long. An attractive woman, he supposed, made it easier, but he wasn’t here to make nice with her, he was fulfilling a favor for his aunt. It was a business transaction, as simple as that.

“Why do you need this job?”

“Well,” She opened her mouth slightly, and then closed it, clearly taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “My aunt is a busy woman. I’ve been staying with her for a while now, and I think it’s time that I start finding my own work, to support myself. To ease the burden on her.”

A politer explanation of the situation in comparison to what Polly told him. He suspected it was a half-truth, on Anna’s part.

“I see,” He extended an open hand to her. “You brought a resume?”

Anna nodded fiercely, carefully opening the folder and handing him a thick piece of paper. He took it from her and slowly began scanning each line. She didn’t have much experience, in, well, anything. There were a few CPA courses dated from a couple of years back, a reference or two. No example of any steady job. In fact, she had never worked at all.

“There’s been few opportunities after the war, finding work has been difficult.”

Few opportunities after the war, he hummed at that.

“Where are you from?”

“A little village far from here,” She answered, shaking her head ever so slightly, causing a few strands of hair to fall in her face. “I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

“Humor me.”

“Eastcliff, it’s far south of here.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” He turned the page over. “And you’re living in Birmingham now?”

“Yes,” Anna folded her hands on the table. “A few streets away from this place, actually.” She glanced around the room. “Although I haven’t come around here often.”

He fought a smirk from appearing on his lips. Of course, she’d never come around these parts.

“You took some CPA courses?” He raised an eyebrow, peering at her from over the paper.

She nodded, leaning close to him to point at something on the paper. As he laid her resume on the table, her fingertips brushed across his knuckles. His eyes flicked toward hers and held her gaze. He noticed her cheeks flush, if only slightly when he pulled his hand away. She cleared her throat and tapped a finger on a certain line.

He looked at her hands while she spoke, her words melding together and becoming a lull in the back of his mind. Her hands were smooth, not a callus, or scar for that matter. Not the hands of a factory girl. He glanced up to her face next. Murky blue eyes, fair with a dusting of freckles across her nose, red curls framing her face. No work experience, few references, allegedly from a small village in fuck knows where. It was almost like she appeared out of thin air.

“Well, Miss Caldwell,” He finished the rest of his drink in a single swig. “I’ll speak to Mrs. Gray, and see what we can do.” He reached for her resume, “May I?”

He really had no intention of hiring her. There was no job available, especially since she barely had any experience in, well, anything. It would take a little more than a pretty face to change that. She would turn out to be a bad investment.

“Of course, please keep it.”

Tommy folded it into a small square and tucked it away in his jacket. Standing from the booth, he gestured to the door. “After you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” Anna turned to him, smoothing all of her hair over one shoulder. It was long, he noticed, stopping just below her collarbone. “I appreciate the time you took to speak with me today.”

He shook his head. “It was no trouble.”

Polly approached them from the booth she was sitting at, placing an empty glass on the bartop in the process. “Anna, would you give me a moment with my nephew?”

“Of course,” She nodded, her heels clicking against the floor as she went to retrieve her coat from the booth she was sitting at earlier.

“So?” Polly asked him under her breath, eyes darting between him and Anna. “What did you think?”

Tommy leaned against the bar, watching as the girl bundled herself up in a wool coat and matching hat. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“I expect you to do the right thing, and help someone out.”

He rolled his eyes, the right thing. “She doesn’t seem to be struggling,” Tommy jerked his chin to Anna. “Look, she has a nice coat.”

“Oh, please,” Polly hushed, nudging him in the side as she walked by.

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Shelby.” Anna waved before stepping out of the pub. “Thank you again.”

“I’ll be right out,” Polly shouted to her when the front door closed with a jingle.

“I don’t know what to say, Pol,” He pulled his cigarette case from his waistcoat and placed it on the bar. “There aren’t any open positions at the shop,” He nodded to the door, “Especially not for a girl like her.”

“What do you mean? I’m sure she’d be a fine secretary.”

Tommy scoffed, perching a cigarette in between his lips. “What do we need a secretary for?”

“Having one would keep the shop running smoothly, we could always use the extra hands there. Doing the boring work you boys don’t like. There’s more to this business than just blood, you know.”

“I told you I’d interview her, and I did.” He cupped his hands around the lighter, waiting for it to catch. “She has barely any working experience on her resume besides a few courses. Hiring her would be a waste of time and resources. How old is she?”

“Twenty-three.”

“In that case, she could make some good money on her back,” He dragged the cigarette from his lips and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“You’re despicable.”

“It’s an option.” He shrugged, glancing at his aunt from the corner of his eye. “I interviewed her. Favor fulfilled.”

“What am I supposed to do? Go out there and tell her there’s no job here for her?”

“This was your idea” Tommy deadpanned. “I already told you what she could do. Plenty of men around here would be willing to pay a pretty penny for a night with her.” He pointed to the door with his cigarette. “I’d bet, barely broken in.”

“Is this fun for you?” Polly snapped, jerking her head toward him.

He chose not to answer.

They stood in bitter silence, save for the sound of Polly incessantly tapping her foot on the ground. He glanced around the empty pub, dim light filtering in from the windows. In a few hours, the place would be booming with people, with just Harry managing the bar by himself. It was fine enough for him to do that during the war, there were barely any men around then, anyway. Nowadays? With the men back and in desperate need to drink away their sorrows, he was in over his head, each and every night.

Tommy grimaced. An idea trickled into his head. He peered at his aunt from the corner of his eye and cleared his throat.

“You’d be doing the girl and her aunt a favor if you just told them to pack off,” He reached for his cigarette case and shoved it haphazardly into his coat. “You had to walk her here, you say she’s good. Why would you even want her working with us in the first place?”

“Her aunt trusts me,” Polly sighed. “She knows I’ll keep an eye on her. Can’t say many other places offer that- peace of mind.”

Tommy hummed in response. He turned on his heel to face the bar and started banging his open palm against the bar top.

Polly raised an eyebrow at him.

Red-faced at the sudden noise, Harry came running from the back room.

“Another drink, Mr. Shelby?” He nodded his head toward Polly, tossing a stained cloth over his shoulder. “Mrs. Gray.”

“No, no drink,” Tommy spoke with a cigarette between his lips. “Are you still hiring?”

“Hiring? For the extra help around here?”

“Exactly that.”

Harry paused, glancing from Tommy to Polly then back again.

“Well, uh, yes. Yes, I am.”

Tommy tilted his head to Polly. “Would you look at that?”

Harry knelt behind the bar and began rifling through the shelves for something. Bottles and other miscellaneous items clattered together while he searched. “I put an advertisement in the paper,” He called from below. Eventually, he stood up and placed a crumpled newspaper in front of them. “Not many applicants, though.”

“You’re kidding, Thomas.” Polly took a step closer to the bar.

Tommy thumbed through the newspaper to the advertisement section. He scanned through each job posting line by line, until one, in particular, caught his eye.

“Here we are,” He folded the paper and handed it to Polly, tapping a specific headline with his finger. She snatched it from him and brought it close to her face, eyes narrowing at the fine print.

“She’s never done this kind of work before,” She muttered, never looking directly at him.

That was evidently clear to him. Her hands were a dead giveaway. He still wasn’t even sure if she had done any kind of work before. “You said she’s a hard worker, eh? There’s always time to learn.”

Polly didn’t reply, still clutching the newspaper tightly. She shook her head.

“You can go out there and tell her that it’s either this,” Tommy motioned to the pub around them. “Or on her back. It’s your choice.”

She glared at him, her lips forming a tight-line. Lifting her chin, she tucked the newspaper under her arm. “I’ll show her the advertisement.”

“She’ll be on the company payroll.” He raised his cigarette to her. “Favor fulfilled, Pol, and then some.”

Polly wordless turned on her heel and adjusted the velvet cap on her head. The door to the pub jingled as she stepped out.

“How about that drink?”

Tommy gave him a curt nod. He rested his elbows on the bartop, staring at the glossy wood.

“Huh, would you look at that,” Harry muttered as he uncorked a bottle. “It’s snowing. Early this year, isn’t it?”

Glancing out of The Garrison’s frosted windows, he saw that it had indeed started to snow. Tommy pulled the cigarette from his lips and sighed.

He swore that he had no intention of hiring her.

[collapsingintojupiter]

Sea Urchin

I made me some analogical fluff bc honestly, why not?

Characters: Virgil, Logan, (brief) Roman

Relationships: Analogical, platonic Prinxiety

---

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Roman?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it’s a good idea!”

“Fish? For a date?” Roman sighed, slinging an arm around Virgil’s shoulder. 

“I’m telling you, oh panic-at-the-everywhere, that taking him to an aquarium will literally make his year. Logan loves the ocean, man.”

“And...and you’re sure he won’t think it’s weird?”

“No, because he’s weird. And so are you.”

“Hey!” Virgil shoved Roman away and glared at him, though it melted into a grin when he laughed that stupid laugh of his.  

“Relax, Virge. He’ll love it, I promise.” He sighed. 

“Okay…”

Half an hour later, Virgil was standing on the doorstep to the Crofter house, his hair awkwardly styled (Roman’s fault), and a plush shark in his hands (also Roman’s fault). Logan opened the door when he knocked, eyes widening at the sight of the plush shark. 

“I uh...here.” Virgil shoved it into Logan’s hands, then tried to remember what Roman had told him to say. “Uh, guess where we’re going today?”

Logan looked at the shark, then up at Virgil. 

Holy shit, I’ve never seen him this excited before. 

“Are...are we going to the aquarium?” At that, Virgil couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Roman’s terrible idea wasn’t so terrible after all. 

“Correct. I heard you were into marine biology, and they have a sale on the admission fee today. Roman also told me you liked sharks.”

Logan smiled--adorably, Virgil thought. 

“Yeah, I do. They’re such fascinating creatures, despite the terrible reputation they’ve been given.”

“That’s good, ‘cause they’ll have plenty where we’re going.” Virgil motioned to his car, which actually wasn’t his car, but his mom’s. “You ready to go?”

“I believe I am adequately prepared, yes.” Logan still held the plush, and carried it to the car with him where he set it on the dashboard. 

“Will it be okay if I keep it in here for now?” he asked as the two climbed inside. 

“Oh, sure!” Virgil said, and his voice definitely didn’t crack. He tried not to look at Logan as he backed the car out of the driveway and started into town; at his messy hair, the soft blue sweater he currently wore over a white button-up, at his blue glasses which had tiny goldfish painted on the sides - Roman’s work, most likely. And it was perfect.

Roman had been Logan’s best friend since the first grade, and from what Virgil had heard the two had become friends in much the same way he had when he’d been transferred to their school in fifth grade. Promptly after arriving Roman had made it his personal goal to befriend him, though Virgil had never understood quite why. Logan said he didn’t either; Roman merely shrugged when asked and said they’d seemed lonely. 

Not that that was true, or anything.

Whatever the case, Virgil did eventually succumb and become a part of the odd group. Later, when they reached highschool, it was again Roman who convinced him to finally ask Logan out. 

At first glance, Logan was little more than a quiet and studious kid with a weird fascination for both space and the deep ocean, something that was weirdly connected to and disconnected from Virgil’s own fascination with cryptids, conspiracies, and aliens. The more he’d gotten to know Logan, however, the more he learned about the nerdy kid’s wilder side; about his impulsive (but fun) antics in the name of science, his crazy ideas “for research purposes only, obviously,” and his long rants about stars at two in the morning when he couldn’t sleep. 

And Virgil fell in love with him. 

Roman noticed he had before he did, actually. He also said that Logan liked him too, and after several weeks of nagging Virgil finally worked up the courage to ask him out himself. And when Logan accepted--well, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever been happier (though he’d never tell Roman that).

“What’s your favorite ocean animal, Lo? Aside from sharks.” Logan glanced up, grinning crookedly. 

“I love eels,” he said. “And sea snakes. And crabs. And...” he stopped himself, and Virgil both tried and failed to hide a laugh. 

“Go ahead,” he said. “Um, do you have a favorite shark species?”

“Certainly. I am most fond of the tiger shark; their unique patterns are quite aesthetically pleasing. Speaking of sharks, did you know that shark skin feels like sandpaper?”

“I didn’t,” Virgil said, even though he did. “Tell me about it.”

“Their skin is made up of specialized placoid scales, which form a special kind of armor for the shark that’s actually quite thick. It’s also so rough that it can actually injure animals that rub against it the wrong way--it’s relatively smooth the other way, compared to it. The shape of the scales also makes the shark more streamlined in the water, so it loses less energy to drag when it’s hunting prey.”

Virgil kinda froze, even though he was still at the wheel, and once again he was struck by how damn smart Logan was, not to mention how cute he was when he got excited, and--

“Uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Dammit!”

- - -

Virgil stood back a little, grinning to himself as Logan pressed his face up against the tank. On the other side of the glass, a rather uncomfortably large fish looked back at them. Virgil had already been dragged around four different rooms in the span of less than fifteen minutes, but despite that he couldn’t wipe the dumb look of adoration from his face as Logan excitedly rambled to him about parrot fish. 

“Did you know that they create bubble nets out of their mucus to hide in from sharks?”

“Uh...no, I didn’t.”

Man, the ocean was weird. 

“Ooh, this way! They have touch tanks in here!”

“They have what now?” Virgil asked, as Logan grabbed his hand and started pulling him into another room. 

“Touch tanks! So you can touch the anemones, urchins, sea cucumbers, and whatever else they have in there! Very fascinating textures, they have. Especially the anemones.”

“Wait wait wait...touch them?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Logan said quickly, coming to a halt at the room’s entrance. He glanced at Virgil. “If you want I can show you first, and then you can decide. They won’t hurt you.”

“Uh...okay.” Virgil wanted to say no, mostly because being wet was not what he had planned, but Logan seemed so excited about it that he couldn’t help it. Besides, it was just his hand. He’d be fine.

“Here’s a purple sea urchin.” Logan pointed at a little spiky thing in the sand, grinning from ear to ear. “Their spikes can’t hurt us, but they’re cool to touch.” He dipped his hand in, running his finger along one of the urchin’s spines. 

“Whoah, they’re closing together around your finger!” Virgil leaned over the edge of the tank, eyes wide. Logan grinned at him. 

“They trap food with their spines like that, isn’t that cool?”

“You mean it thinks your finger is food?” 

“Yup! Don’t worry though, he can’t hurt me. See?” Logan pulled his hand away easily, showing Virgil. “Wanna try?”

“You’re crazy.” He looked down at the urchin. “...Yes. I’ll try.”

The water was stupid cold, but Virgil rolled up his sleeves, pretended he didn’t notice the adorable smile Logan was giving him, and dipped his hand in. The urchin’s spines were hard, but smooth, and quickly hugged onto his finger as he watched in surprise. 

“You haven’t been to an aquarium before, have you?” Virgil glanced at Logan.  

“I haven’t, no. Ocean always gave me the heebies. Didn’t realize it was so...uh, cool…” he turned away to hide his face, which had turned a delicate shade of rose, and quickly washed his hands while Logan tried to pet every sea cucumber he could find in the tank. 

“They’re very squishy,” he said as he joined Virgil by the entrance. “Very smooth. I like them.”

“I can tell,” Virgil answered with a grin. 

They went to more tanks, then ate at the cafe inside. Logan excused himself after they sat down, leaving Virgil alone for a few minutes as he disappeared. 

Virgil pulled his patch jacket closer around his shoulders, and let out a small sigh. He’d never been much of a learner like Logan was - sleeping in class, doodling on the margins of his notebooks, ignoring the teacher and everything around him...but learning from Logan was so different, so...fun. He realized he’d been enjoying himself immensely the whole time, even though he now had more facts on sea cucumbers than he’d ever know what to do with. 

Being with Logan was fun, he thought. 

“What are you thinking about, Virgil?”

“GAH! Logan, why?”

“I apologize.” Logan sat down, a smile hiding in his eyes as he tried to look sheepish. “I uh, didn’t realize that you hadn’t noticed my presence.”

“It’s alright,” Virgil shook his head, pushing a plate of food towards him. “You just startled me.”

“I will try to avoid doing so in the future.” 

They talked about black holes and green sand; about comets and cone snails and nebulae and nurse sharks. 

And Virgil loved it. 

At last, the day had gone and it was time to go. Virgil was exhausted, but glowing with happiness as they made their way towards the exit. Logan held his hand; similarly quiet, similarly happy. 

As they reached the front door, he stopped and turned to him. 

“I uh...got you something,” Logan said quietly, holding something up for him to see. 

“Is...is that an urchin plush?”

“I, uh...I thought that since…I went back to the gift shop...wanted to get something special...”

“I love it.” Virgil gently took the plush from Logan, cupping it in his hands and feeling how soft it was in his fingers. Logan grinned widely, and before either boy knew what was happening they were in each other’s arms. Logan’s embrace was gentle, but firm, and Virgil was pretty sure he never wanted to leave his arms again. 

Silently, he thanked Roman for his best terrible idea ever.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Drink (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: Alcohol Characters: Law, Shachi, Penguin

Law realised something was wrong when he caught a glimpse of Shachi's teasing grin. He'd been on the receiving end of it long enough to know when it was fake, and the grin Shachi flashed him as he downed the drink he'd just swiped was definitely an act. Law had Scanned his drink subtly the moment he'd got it; it had been exactly as it should have been – a simple pint of cider – and he hadn't thought anyone had got close enough to him to tamper with it since then.

Shachi didn't even like the particular cider Law had ordered that day, though, and those two facts combined led to the realisation that the ginger didn't think it was safe for him to drink, and had taken matters firmly into his own hands to make sure he didn't.

Clione caught him as he stumbled backwards, and Law hadn't been paying that much attention but he was sure Shachi shouldn't have been drunk yet. Then Shachi went completely limp, and all doubts fled as he scrambled off his stool to help Clione lie him on the floor.

"Shachi!" someone else exclaimed, and the entire crew present in the pub abandoned their own drinks and conversations to cluster around. Law was about to send them away, instruct them to find whoever it was responsible for the spiked drink, when a ruckus kicked off the other end of the room. Looking over, he saw Uni grabbing a woman in a headlock, as her male companions drew weapons. It didn't take a genius to work things out from there.

Shachi had been sat next to Uni. Clearly, he'd managed to pass on the information before pulling his stupid stunt, and Law wasted no time in directing his crew to help Uni subdue the crowd. Only Clione stayed with him as he returned his attention to his unconscious nakama. He'd have loved nothing more than to lead the crew in restraining the perpetrators, but he didn't know what had been in the drink and what it was doing to Shachi.

"Why didn't you just knock the damn thing over?" he demanded of the ginger as he summoned a Room, searching for the invasive substance. "What the hell possessed you to drink it?" Predictably, Shachi didn't answer. Law found the drug and frowned. He didn't recognise it, but it didn't seem to have done anything beyond knocking Shachi out, which meant that it was either some form of sleeping drug, or very slow acting. Either meant it was safe to get him back to the Tang, so he turned to Clione.

"I'll stay with him," the smaller man reassured him before he could even open his mouth and Law nodded sharply before finding his feet. A small shick of a blade being drawn behind him as he walked away reassured him that Clione was not taking any threats lightly. They'd be fine.

His crew had been successful in their endeavour, and by the time he reached the commotion, all of the perpetrators were face-down on the ground in submission holds, their weapons neatly piled out of reach. He crouched down in front of the woman Uni was still holding.

"What did you use?" he asked her, only to get snarled at as she strained against Uni's grip to no avail. He let a grin paint his face, even though mirth was the furthest thing from his mind. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he told her, and she spat.

"Go to hell! Damn pirates, scum of the sea! I hope he dies, I hope you all die!"

Maintaining the grin was difficult, but somehow Law held it because the alternative was showing how much she'd scared him with those words. He'd thought the drug wasn't likely to be a problem, but now he was second-guessing himself and torn between finishing off the group now and turning tail back to Shachi so he could treat him properly, now.

"He won't die," Uni cut in, slamming her face into the floor. He sounded certain, and Law envied his faith. "He's not alone."

"What's that got to do with anything?" the woman managed around a mouthful of splinters, but the words hadn't been meant for her in the first place, and Law let himself relax again. Of course, Clione was with him. If something wasn't right, he'd alert them straight away.

"I won't ask again," he said instead, summoning his Room and picking up a knife. Her eyes opened wide, but she didn't say anything so with a single slash he took off all her fingers. She shrieked, although Law knew from experience that the action wasn't accompanied by any pain. He supposed the shock of seeing your fingers part company with your hand could be reasonably intense, though.

"Just a sleeping drug!" she garbled. "I don't know why he collapsed! It shouldn't have taken effect that fast!" Law didn't like the sound of that one bit, his mind automatically springing to the idea of an overdose. The desire to get the hell out of there and return to the Tang now rose its head again.

"How long should it have taken?" he managed to ask instead, quelling the instinct for the moment.

"An hour!" she admitted, her eyes fixed firmly on the knife in his hand. Law was almost disappointed she was talking so easily. "It should have built up gradually!"

They'd been trying to get him weakened slowly enough that he wouldn't notice until it was too late, had they? Law frowned; he needed to break his habit of drinking his way through a pint slowly, if that was what they'd been aiming for. If Shachi hadn't interrupted, then it might have worked, and that was an idea that didn't sit well with Law at all.

"Finish up here," he told his crew, straightening back up. There was so much more he needed to get out of them, but overdoses could be serious and he was the best suited to dealing with them. His crew knew enough about gathering information to know what sorts of questions to ask. He returned to Shachi's side, where Clione reported no change in his condition, and pulled the ginger over his shoulder.

Shachi didn't react to being moved, not that Law had expected him to, and he headed back to the Tang with Clione.

"Shachi!" Penguin exploded as they boarded, sprinting over to them. Clione peeled away to man Penguin's post as the older man promptly stuck himself like glue to Law's side. "What happened?"

"Someone spiked my drink," Law told him, shifting Shachi until the ginger was now bundled up in his arms, where he could see his face. There was no change. "This idiot decided drinking it was a good idea."

Penguin groaned, reaching out and taking Shachi's hat off his head. The ginger always seemed smaller without it.

"Why didn't he just knock it over?" he lamented rhetorically.

"I plan on asking," Law assured him as they finally entered the large room. "It appears to just be a sleeping drug, luckily, although it wasn't tailored to be drunk in one go." He set Shachi down on a bed, watching the ginger's head loll slightly to the side on the pillow, and plucked the shades from his face.

"So, are you taking it out or letting him sleep it off?" Penguin asked, his tone clearly showing which direction he would have picked. Law summoned a Room in answer.

"It's acting like an overdose," he said. "He can probably sleep it off, but I'm not patient enough to wait." Penguin made a noise of acknowledgement and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Law as he got to work.

It wasn't a difficult extraction. The sleeping drug had been exactly that, not even causing any other damage to Shachi's body. After the various poisons Law had been extracting from his nakama over the years, it was almost easy. Once he was done, he put Shachi's shades back on his face and jostled him.

"Wake up," he ordered, Penguin assisting by way of several pokes to Shachi's side, and the ginger groaned, swatting at Penguin's finger.

"Tired," he complained.

"I'm not surprised," Law replied scathingly. "Idiocy is tiring, from what I've observed." He was glad to see him awake and acting normal, but he wanted to get to the bottom of Shachi's stupid decision before doing anything else.

"Idiocy?" Shachi parroted with a yawn. "What did I do this ti- oh."

"Oh," Penguin cut in, agreeing. "What the hell, Shachi?"

"Well, I was fairly sure it wasn't poison," the ginger shrugged. "So it probably wasn't going to do any harm, and I was right about that, so-"

"You could have just knocked it over," Law pointed out, and Shachi paused, clearly thinking hard.

"I… yeah… I had a reason for not doing that," he mused, pulling himself into a sitting position and resting his chin on his palm. "What was it..?"

"You'd had too much to drink?" Penguin suggested disapprovingly. Shachi flapped a hand at him.

"I was only on my second pint," he defended himself. "Oh yeah! Figured we should find out what they'd slipped you so we knew what they were after," he steamrollered on, drowning out Penguin's suspicious "of what?".

Law agreed with Penguin. Depending what Shachi had been drinking, two pints could have left him completely sober or teetering on the edge of drunk and not capable of rational decisions. He had to admit he didn't remember what the ginger had ordered, but Shachi's argument held no water at all when he knew who had been the culprit. It would have been simpler and safer just to question them from the start.

From the dawning look on Shachi's face, the realisation was sinking in at last.

"Okay, that wasn't my smartest moment," he admitted, slinking back down on the bed. "I'm just… just gonna go back to sleep now."

"Haven't you slept enough?" Penguin asked, amused, and Shachi sent him a withering look – the intent obvious even with the shades – before pulling the blanket over his head. Laughing, and therefore clearly no longer worried at all, Penguin stood. "I'll go tell the others," he said, and Law nodded, watching him leave the room.

Turning back to Shachi, he tugged the blanket back down, revealing the shock of ginger hair.

"What?" Shachi grumbled, resting his arms over his eyes, despite the fact he was also wearing his shades. "Yeah, sorry, I messed up. You'd already noticed it anyway, hadn't you?"

It was Law's turn to perch on the edge of the bed.

"I hadn't noticed at all," he admitted, finally able to say what he wanted to now he knew Shachi had just been a little too affected by the alcohol. "Thank you."

Shachi let his arms drop away from his face, one reaching up to muss Law's hair. Law caught the hand disapprovingly and placed it back on the bed.

"Always gonna watch your back," Shachi said. "I got you. Now can I go to sleep? I'm feeling a hangover approaching. That cider of yours was gross as always, by the way. How do you drink that stuff?"

Law ruffled his hair, only to get swatted at.

"Just sleep it off," he said. "And don't do that again."

Shachi muttered something under his breath as he rolled over, and Law hoped it hadn't been what it had sounded like.

Better me than you.

[hms-chill]

Alex the Cat-Dad

This piece Ukiyosplash on Deviantart did for my fic about Alex and Henry fostering kittens is absolutely incredible and I love it so much it inspired this

If you haven’t read that fic, just know that Alex and Henry fostered five kittens, and Zest was the one they just had to keep

Alex has pretty much given up on trying to fix his sleep schedule. He's tried basically everything: avoiding coffee before bed, getting up early, even having Henry cajole him into bed at a decent time. None of it works. Henry is too easy to distract, and his sleep schedule is almost as bad as Alex's. Even when he could get to bed on time, they tend to use that extra time more effectively than sleeping. The coffee thing was an entire disaster, and when he wakes up earlier, he's just more tired in the morning. It's the worst on days when he's home alone, or on weekends when he's on his own schedule. He'll get wrapped up in something and forget to eat, or he'll nap in the middle of the day and not be tired when it's time for bed. He can turn alarms off too easily, and he can't ask someone to babysit or check in on him. Even David's not great at keeping him on a schedule, and he tends to go to England with Henry when they can anyway. At this point, Alex has just accepted that he's not going to be the most functional human on the planet. After all, he's tried everything.

What he hasn't tried is a cat. Specifically a cat who is very vocal, very social, and apparently able to read clocks. The first day he and Zest are home alone together, they play some, then Zest joins him in the office. He's got a bed on Alex's desk, so he naps there while Alex works, occasionally balancing a paper on his head or a business card against his paw. He sleeps until noon, when he stretches, toppling the senator's business card that Alex has balanced against him. His foot gets caught on his bed, and he almost falls over before Alex leans over to help him escape. From there, Zest's primary goal in life seems to be causing problems. He starts small, batting at Alex's charger and his hands as he types, then he upgrades to yelling, walking to the door and back until Alex sighs, gets up, and follows him. Zest leads the way to the kitchen, then sits on a counter (where he's technically not allowed, but Alex doesn't mind), and stares at him until Alex gets together a sandwich.

"Are you... are you babysitting me?" Alex asks. Zest chirps in agreement, and Alex laughs, scratching under his chin the way he likes. Zest purrs, hopping up onto Alex's shoulders. He's too big to perch up there like a parrot anymore, so he wraps himself around Alex’s neck instead, purring. Alex gives his ears a scratch and brings his lunch and a glass of water back up to the office to keep working, and Zest falls asleep draped around Alex’s neck, kneading sleepy little biscuits into Alex’s shoulder while he eats and answers emails. He sends Henry a snap of the two of them, Zest's sleepy face curled up next to his smiling one. Henry replies quickly, a picture of himself and David on a rug in Kensington, and Alex video calls him. Henry picks up almost immediately, his face appearing on Alex's laptop. He's lying on the floor, David cuddled to his side. They look cozy, or at least as cozy as they ever look when they’re there alone. Henry smiles when he sees them, a tired smile that’s so full of love it makes Alex’s heart skip a beat.

“I swear this cat can read clocks,” Alex says, by way of introduction. “He started being a little asshole at exactly noon today.”

“Aww, is he looking after you?” Henry asks, grinning. Alex sighs.

“I don’t even… he just took me downstairs for lunch. Like he took me to the kitchen and then sat on the cou— I mean, he sat—“

“Alex, you both know he’s not allowed on the counter! You’re going to teach him bad habits.”

“Hen, I don’t think I can teach this cat anything. It took him two weeks to learn where his food bowl is, and he still steps into his water dish and then gets mad that his paws are wet. I adore him, but his head is just air. Air and apparently a clock to babysit me with. He took me down to the kitchen and just sat and watched me make a sandwich.”

Henry laughs at that, relaxing a bit. David moves his head to Henry’s arm, and Henry rubs his ears.

“How are things there?” Alex asks, and Henry shrugs.

“You know. Not awful, not great. I miss you.”

“It was meetings today, right? Anything you want to talk about?”

So they chat about new policies the royal family is moving toward, and the wyas that royal support will influence different things, how rules might shift or policies might change. Zest wakes up about halfway through their call to yawn and stretch, nearly toppling backward off Alex’s shoulders as he unbalances himself. Alex catches him just in time as Henry laughs, and Zest starts to purr directly into Alex’s ear. It’s only then that Alex realizes how much tension he’s carrying in his shoulders and lets them relax a bit. Zest makes biscuits in his shoulder, and Henry keeps talking about their plans, but Alex isn’t quite as tense. Henry has to go to dinner eventually, but he seems lighter, and happier, too. He’s laughed at Zest, and he’s gotten some things off his chest, and as he fixes his tie and his hair in the little window that lets him see himself, Alex gets to experience one of his favorite things even across an ocean.

He gets to watch Henry fuss with his hair, gets to watch him tie and retie a tie until it’s just right, gets to watch him make sure everything looks just right before he says goodbye and presents himself to the British public. When he hangs up, Alex scratches Zest’s ears, then turns back to his computer and the maps he’s pulled up. Maps of states whose voter demographics and popular vote don’t match their electoral one, maps covered in ink-blot districts and red tape. And he gets to work, looking into state laws and bylaws to figure out how to fix it. How to let each state represent itself the way he knows they want to, how to help them show the world their souls the way Texas could in 2020. He makes lists of local organizers to call, and governors to pressure to restore stripped voting rights. He tweets something about the situation in Iowa and dms an activist from Florida on twitter to see if there’s anything he can do to help them. And when he’s overwhelmed enough that Zest wakes up to purr in his ear again, he gets up and goes for a run, his feet pounding the pavement and his music blasting in his ears as he works off all the pent-up rage he’s been harboring against old white men with names like “Elbridge” who destroyed communities for their own gain.

When he gets home, dripping sweat and panting, Zest is there to watch him stretch, then to sit next to the sink and scream until Alex gets himself some water. He’d been planning on showering first, but Zest will have none of it, and it turns out he’s right-- the headache that had been threatening to burst from the base of his skull recedes, washed down as he hydrates and pets the cat, leaving bits of fur stuck to his damp hands. Zest doesn’t seem to miss the fur; he wanders between Alex’s legs, leaving more stuck to the sweat there before Alex bends down to scratch his ears and follow him, giving him all the attention he needs. After all, no one has been home with him for almost an hour, and he can see a tiny sliver of the bottom of his food dish. It’s a miracle he hasn’t starved to death by now, and he desperately needs Alex to shake the bowl a little bit so that the bottom is solidly covered. Alex is more than happy to oblige, rolling his eyes as he does. Zest doesn’t even eat any of the food, just curls up on David’s bed while Alex goes to take a shower.

When Alex comes out of the shower, he’s in the middle of towel drying his hair and almost trips over the cat who’s decided he absolutely needs to be right in the middle of the doorway. Zest yowls in surprise, turning to run for the bed, where he can safely glare at Alex for nearly stepping in the middle of the floor.

“Listen, dumbass, what do you want from me? I didn’t see you; I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” He’s pulled on Henry’s shirt now and goes to lie on the bed next to Zest, who turns his back, hops down, and walks to the door, tail swishing. Once there, he stops and looks back at Alex expectantly, all memory of their near-collision apparently gone. He meows, and Alex sighs and follows him. Zest leads him downstairs and settles directly next to the stove’s clock. It’s dinner time, and Zest is not going to let Alex get away with procrastinating it any longer. He makes dinner under the cat’s watchful eye, then follows his meowing little boss to the living room couch. He picks an animal planet show, because that seems like something Zest will like, and a few minutes later, Zest has dragged his food bowl into the living room to eat with Alex. He sends a picture of that to Henry, too, telling him they miss him and David at their family dinner.

When dinner’s done and the dishes are washed, Alex is going to go back upstairs to the office to work, but Zest won’t hear of it. He stays on the couch and complains so loudly that Alex has no choice but to bring his laptop down and sit on the couch, and Zest promptly drapes himself across the keyboard, looking up at Alex with big eyes.

“You’re worse than Henry, you know that?” Alex asks, scratching between Zest’s ears. Zest just purrs, letting Alex pick him up so that he can close the laptop and settle the cat on his lap instead. Absently, he digs around under the coffee table for yarn-- Henry’s been teaching him how to knit, giving him something to keep his hands busy when he’s not supposed to be working, and he’s not very good at it, but it helps. Zest bats at the yarn lazily, but his claws are in. He watches through half-closed eyes as Alex knits, the TV playing in the background as Alex very consciously focuses on the yarn and needles in his hands, the ways they move and the way the lumpy, holey… thing draping off them grows. He’ll call it a scarf and give it to Henry for Christmas as a joke.

Zest largely ignores him for a while, dozing intermittently as Alex focuses and the TV plays. But at 11 PM exactly, Zest wakes up, stretches, and begins to bat at the yarn in earnest, meowing at Alex until Alex puts the yarn away, and Zest hops off his lap and twists around his legs until Alex is up and following him, and they go up the stairs to the bedroom, where Zest sits on the bed and turns to look at him. Alex rolls his eyes and grabs his pajamas, going to brush his teeth. When he comes back, Zest is curled up on Henry’s side of the bed, and Alex smiles as he gets to climb in next to him, because going to sleep without Henry is never fun, but at least the bed isn’t empty.

On AO3

--

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[novannna]

Little Demon

OK so this is the first fic that I have actually ever posted, plz enjoy some cringy bad writing:)

word count:4192

WARNING: Contains minor Supernova spoilers

Nova is pressured by Adrian into getting a pet to keep her company.  Nodrian, lil angsty.  

Nova and Danna walked around the corner, onto a busy street with lots of bustling shops and delicious smells.  Nova tugged her jacket closer into her body as she shivered in the brisk autumn air.  

“Thanks again for coming with me,” she told Danna.  It was six months after the battle at the cathedral, and she and Danna had finally forgiven each other.  It was rough for a while, but they were now on good terms, friends once again.  Danna had agreed to go pet shopping with her.  Nova had finally moved into a small flat by herself and Adrian was worrying about her mental health.  Well, worrying more than usual about her mental health.  He had finally managed to convince her to at least get a pet to keep her company.  

“Of course!  I’m sooo excited,” she replied.  Danna rubbed her hands together.  Their destination came into view.  “Lucille's pets-the best pets in all of Gatlon city”.  Nova snickered at the bright, garish banner hanging above the door.  All sorts of sounds came from inside the shadowed shop.  Nova could hear parrots and dogs and cats.  The noise was so loud.  Nova started to shake.  She  stopped walking and started to take in deep breaths.   Even though it was six months after the battle at the cathedral, loud noises still overwhelmed her.  She found her brain completely shutting down, refusing to think straight.  All she felt was panic.  She closed her eyes and listened to the blood roaring in her ears.  

“C’mon, Nova.  What are you waiting for?”  Danna said to her.  She saw Nova's expression, and the irritation left her face.  “It's okay.  You don’t have to do this.  You are safe.”  She held Nova's hand tightly. Nova nodded.

“I know.  Just- give me a sec,” Nova said through a tight throat.  Danna slung an arm over her shoulder and guided her towards the edge of the sidewalk.  Nova leaned heavily against  a wall.  After a minute or so, Novas breathing became normal and her heartbeat slowed.  

“All good?” Danna asked. 

“All good,” Nova confirmed, still catching her breath and convincing her brain that her panic was irrational.  Danna squeezed her hand and together, they walked into the chaotic pet shop.  

Inside the shop it was much dimmer.  Animals screeched all around them and there was constant motion.  

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Nova whispered to Danna.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.  We can leave if you want.” 

“No.  I’m fine.”  They continued on.  

“So what kind of pet do you even want?” Danna asked. 

“I don’t know.  I didn’t really think about that.  Definitely not a dog, I don’t have enough time.  Not a fish, I want something I can actually interact with.”  She shrugged.  

“What about a cat?”  

“I guess.  I’ve never had a pet before.  I like cats”  

“Hi there!  Welcome to Lucille's pets, can I help you out today?”  A bright, cheery voice made Nova and Danna jump.  A woman emerged from behind the checkout counter.  She looked to be in her mid twenties and had bright blue hair. On her apron a nametag read, Lola.  

“Hi.  My friend is interested in getting a pet.  She was thinking about getting a cat.”  Danna responded.  “Could we meet some of them?”  

“Of course,” Lola replied.  “Right this way.”  She led them towards the back of the shop.  On the back wall there were several cages.  They all had cats in them.  The cats were all different.  Huge and tiny, old and young, so many colors of fur.  

“What age cat did you want,” Lola asked, directing her question at Nova.

“Umm… probably a kitten.  I don’t have a preference really.”  

“Well all of our younger cats are on this side,”  she gestured to the cages on the left.  “Our adult cats are over here.” she gestured towards the other side of the wall.  Danna bent down and reached her hand in and tickled a kitten on its chin.  The kitten nuzzled its nose against Dannas hand and started to purr.  Danna laughed.  

“Oh, he likes you,” Lola said.  “He’s a sweetie,” she paused.  “Would you guys like to meet them outside of the cages,” she asked.

“Oh yes, that’d be great!” Nova exclaimed.  Danna nodded vigorously.  Lola set up a little pen and directed Nova and Danna to step inside.  

“Which ones do you wanna see first?”   Lola asked.  

“I don’t know.  I honestly don’t really have an opinion on the looks or behavior of the cats.” Nova said.  Lola walked over to a cage and scooped a gray kitten out in one hand and an orange and white tabby kitten in the other.  She gently placed them in the middle of the little pen.  

“I have to go and stock the shelves now, feel free to look at the other cats.  Just put the ones you have out back before you play with new ones, ‘kay.”  said Lola.

“Great!  Thanks.”  Danna responded.  

“Let me know if you need anything.”  Lola smiled.  She walked away humming a pop song.  

“Aww.  Hi,” Nova said to the little orange and white kitten playing with her shoelaces.  “You’re so cute!”  she smiled.  

Danna smiled at Nova.  “Are you all good now?”  She was still worried about Nova after her attack a few minutes before.  

“Perfect.”  Nova picked up a cat toy and grinned as the two kittens tumbled after the colorful feathers.  The kittens zoomed around, completely filled with energy.  They kept falling over, full of clumsiness.  

“You wanna look at the other kittens now?”  Danna asked Nova.

“Sure.”  she grabbed the little gray kitten while Danna picked up the orange and white one.  They walked over to their cage and set them down inside.  The kittens toddled over to their little cat bed and promptly fell asleep. 

“Wow.  I wish I could fall asleep that easily.” said Danna.

“You know… I could help you,” Nova joked, eyes gleaming.  Danna glared playfully back.  They both burst out laughing.  

“Which one next?”  asked Danna.

“I don’t know.  You choose.”  Danna walked over to the cage with the kitten that she had been petting earlier.  

“Lets try these ones.”  she picked up the black kitten that she had been petting and handed it to Nova.  Nova hugged it to her chest and felt its whole body vibrate from the force of its purrs.  Danna grabbed the other one in the cage, an identical black one.  When she set it down, it immediately started sprinting in circles around the pen.  Danna burst out laughing when it tripped over its own feet and sprawled into an ungainly mess on the floor.  Nova shook her head and gently righted the small cat.  It rubbed its head against Nova’s legs and then took off again.  Nova looked up to see Danna smiling at her.

“What?” she asked, curious about the odd look Danna was giving her.  

“It's just-,” she cut herself off and began again.  “You seem so happy and peaceful with these animals. You look different.”  she smiled at Nova.  

“Yeah, I guess I really do like hanging out with these guys.  Although, I don’t think these are the right kittens for me.  They don’t feel right. I don’t know.   

“Yeah.  These ones don’t seem to fit you,” Danna responded. “You pick which ones we play with next.” 

“‘Kay.”  Nova shrugged.  She scooped up the kittens and placed them back in their cage.  She then knelt to get a good look at the other kittens.  Nova opened the door of another cage and picked up a little brown cat.  She handed it to Danna and knelt back down to see if there were any other kittens inside.  She saw a bright white kitten pressed against the wall, ears pressed back against its head.  

“Hey little guy.  It's alright.  I’m a friend, I won't hurt you.” she placed her palm out.  The little kitten sniffed it and hesitantly walked towards Nova.  She gently patted it on the head.  It hissed and swiped at Nova with its claws.  She yelped and quickly drew her hand back, looking at the bright red pinpricks of blood that welled up from the small cuts that the kitten had given her.

“Are you alright!” Danna asked, reaching out to touch Nova’s shoulder.

“Fine, I’ve had much worse.  Just a little scratch.”  Nova replied.  

“Aw, shit.  I forgot to tell you about that kitten.” said Lola, having emerged once she had heard Nova’s squak.  “She’s a little grumpy, if you didn’t notice.  We didn’t breed her, we rescued her.  Some people had been throwing rocks at her and mistreating her.  She is only just healed and doesn’t trust anyone.”  

“It’s okay.”  Nova said to Lola.  “I’m a friend.  You can trust me,” Nova said, now addressing the white kitten.  “People have been assholes to you haven’t they?  I get it.  People have been assholes to me too.”  she extended her hand out again.  This time the kitten stepped out and rubbed  her face across Nova’s palm.  She sat still, suppressing a grin.  The kitten stepped out a little farther, only a foot away from Nova’s face.  The little kitten started to purr and Nova ran her fingers down the kittens back.  She gently scooped the kitten up, being very careful not to make any sudden movements.  Nova let a tiny pulse of her power flow through the kitten and her eyes slowly closed.

“Well I'll be damned.  That’s the first time she has ever let anyone touch her.  Even Lucille, and Lucille can talk to animals!” exclaimed Lola.  

“I want to adopt her,” Nova said, allowing a grin to split her face.  Danna grinned back.

“She fits you perfectly,” said Danna.  Nova nodded her head.  

“Do you have any toys or litter boxes, or things like that at your house?” Lola asked.  

“No, I don’t really know exactly all that I’ll need.  Could you show me?”

“Of course.”  Lola led Nova and Danna to an aisle full of cat supplies, after they had put away the two kittens  She handed Nova a litter box, a bag of litter and a plastic scooper.  

“Here, You’ll want a cart.”she walked over to a shopping cart standing next to the cash register and pulled it over to Nova and Danna.  Nova put the pile of things she was holding down into the cart.  Lola walked her down the aisle, pointing out things that she would need and how to use them, occasionally putting things in the cart.  By the time they had gotten through the aisle, Nova actually had a vague idea of how to care for a cat.  

“I can go ring these up for you now,” Lola said.  “Do you need anything else?” 

“I think we’re good.  Thank you so much for all of your help!” Danna told her.  

“No problem.  Let me get you a carrier and then you will be all set.”  The girls walked over to the cages and Nova reached into the cage with the little white kitten.  She was still fast asleep when Nova slowly picked her up and transferred her to the small cardboard carrier Lola had gotten them.  As Nova shut the lid, the kitten woke up and stared into Nova's face with sleepy, confused eyes.

“Hello little one,” said Nova. “you are going to come home with me.  I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”  The little kitten let out a small meow, then tucked its head back down and fell back asleep.  She walked over to the cash register and paid for all the items while Danna called Oscar.  They had walked here, but they didn’t want to walk with the cat.  They were afraid that it might scare her too much.  Oscar was the only person that had a car and was able to give them a ride.  

“He will be here in 15 minutes, Nova,” Danna told her.  

“Great.  We’re meeting him out front?”  Danna nodded.  Nova grabbed the little kittens carrier and headed out the door .  Danna followed, hefting a bag full of cat supplies. 

Nova and Danna sat down on a bench stationed in front of the store.  Nova let a big breath out and smiled.

“Thanks for coming with me.  I don’t think I could have done that on my own.”  Nova said to Danna.  

“Of course I would.  I’m your friend right,” Danna playfully pushed her shoulder.  Nova pushed it back.  

“Im serious though.  I thought I would be better, that all the chaos wouldn’t still bother me.  I mean I'm a goddamn Renegade!  I shouldn’t have to keep falling apart whenever there is too much loud noise.”  she trailed off.  “Whatever.  You really helped me get through that.  So, thanks.”

“Anyday.  Hopefully it will be good for you to have this little guy around to center you.  Have you thought about what you will call her?” she gestured towards the cardboard box containing a sleeping kitten.  

“I was thinking I would call her Feroce.  It was what my father would call me.”  Nova smiled sadly.  “I think it fits her.”  She leaned back against the bench and crossed her arms over her chest.  Nova felt her phone buzz in her back pocket.  She pulled it out to see a text from Adrian.  

Adrian:Did u get a pet?!?!

Nova smiled.  She had forgotten her promise to text him when she had made a decision.

Nova:Yes.  I got a little white kitten 

Adrian: :)))))

Adrian: I’m w/ Oscar, driving ur way.  We’ll be there soon

Nova: Love u.  See u soon

Adrian:Love u too<3

Adrian:Can’t wait to see your cat!!!!!!!!

Nova laughed at her adorable dorky boyfriend. ++++++

“Nova!”  She looked up to see Oscar and Adrian waving at her frantically from Oscar's car.  

“Nova!  I need to see Oscar junior right now!”  Oscar yelled to her.  Nova laughed and got into the backseat of the car.  

“She is asleep, and I’ll murder you if you wake her up.” she threatened as she opened the cardboard carrier.  Nova showed Adrian and Oscar the tiny sleeping kitten inside.  

“And her name is NOT Oscar junior, it's Feroce.”  Oscar pouted.  

“She's so adorable!”  said Adrian.  

“Don’t you dare even think of taking her Adrian Everhart!” she glared at him. 

“I would never!”

“Uh huh.  I saw your face.  Don’t try to lie to me,” she said, skeptical. 

“Nova, Danna, do you guys have anything you have to do today?”  Oscar asked.  Nova shook her head.

“No, why”  asked Danna.  

“If it's alright with Nova, we are going to go to her flat and hang out with Feroce for a while,” said Adrian.  

“And if it's not alright with Nova, me and Adrian are sneaking in,” Oscar added.  

“It's fine with me,” Nova said.  

“Great.  We’re meeting Ruby there.”  Oscar gunned the engine and they drove off to Nova's small flat.  

It was a short drive to her two room flat, only five minutes. She made Adrian carry the cat supplies and Danna carry Feroce while she unlocked the door.  Nova pushed the door open and then walked in and collapsed onto her couch.  

“Uh, Nova?”  Danna said.  “I think Feroce woke up.”  Nova opened her eyes and saw Danna holding a hissing box away from her body.

“Shit.”  Nova got up and grabbed the carrier from Danna.  Adrian shut the door.  Nova set the box on the floor and opened it.  A hissing ball of bright white fur shot out.  Feroce burst out and skidded across the room, her claws slid out, trying to grab purchase on the slick wood floor.  She didn’t stop herself soon enough and crashed into the wall.  

“Nova, that's not a cat.  Thats a demon.” Oscar told her.  

“She’s just scared.  She has a bad history with humans.”

“Out of all the kittens you could have chosen, you chose the smallest, angriest one.”  Adrian burst out laughing.  “Nova, you are literally the same as that cat.”

“Shut up,” Nova scowled and threw a pillow into his face.  She slowly walked over to where the tiny kitten was cowering.  She held out her hand, letting Feroce sniff it.  She crept forward a bit, ears still pressed flat against her head, but the hissing had ceased.  A wet nose pressed against Nova’s hand.  She glanced back and smirked at Oscar and Adrians dumbstruck expressions.  She felt a small furry body worm its way into her arms.  She scooped Feroce up and she snuggled deep into Novas chest.  A low purr started in the center of her tiny chest.  

“Still a demon?” she asked Oscar.

“I’m terrified of you and your cat.  And yes, still a demon.” Oscar shuddered.  “Do you have any food?  I’m starved.”

“There are some chips in the cupboard.  Help yourself.”  she sat down on the couch, next to Adrian and Danna.  She leaned against Adrians chest.  

“You think getting a cat is a good idea?” he asked her.  He had an insufferable smirk pasted across his face.  

“Shut up.  And yes, I will admit, I will be loads happier with Feroce here.”  

“WHAT!  Did the one and only Nova Artino admit that I was right!”  he grinned down at her face.  

“Don’t make me take it back,” Nova threatened him.  He grinned even more.  “Arse,” she grumbled.

A knock sounded on the door, and Danna got up to open it.  She swung the door open and Ruby burst into the room.  

“Oh my god Nova!  Where is your cat?!”  she screamed.  She rushed over to Nova and immediately started to pet Feroce, before Nova could warn her.  Feroce slitted her eyes and let out a small hiss, but did not attack her.  

“Nova, your cat is broken,” Oscar exclaimed.  “It hates everyone but you and Ruby.  literally.  Look.”   he walked over to Feroce and extended his hand, similar to what Nova had done.  Feroce flattened her ears and hissed up at Oscar.  She swiped towards his finger with her paw, and he barely managed to move his hand away from her claws.  

“See!”  he said incredulously.  Ruby and Danna burst out laughing.  

“Feroce tolerates me, look,” Danna said.  Danna traced her hand gently down Feroce’s back.  The kitten growled, but didn’t attack.  

“It is an actual demon!”  Oscar said.  

“Her name is Feroce?”  Ruby asked.  Nova nodded.  “What does it mean?”  

“It means fierce in italian.  It's what my father would call me.” 

“Aw.  That's so sweet!”  Ruby responded.  

“El diablo,” Oscar muttered, inching away from Feroce.  “Make sure she doesn’t come and attack me at night Nova.  She hates me.”

“Not me,” Ruby chimed, ecstatic that the cat liked her more than Oscar.

“Do you want me to draw anything?” Adrian asked.  “Like a cat bed or something?”

“Umm, sure.  Do you wanna draw me one of those cat tower thingies?”  Nova said.  “I wanted to get one at the store, but I was too cheap.”  Adrian pulled out his marker and started to sketch on the wall.  Ruby and Danna had pulled out some of the cat toys Nova had bought out of the bag and were opening them.  Feroce stood up and arched her back while yawning.  She spotted the brightly covered toy Ruby was dragging across the ground and pounced on it.  Nova smiled as she watched the little white bundle of fur race across the room, skidding on the hardwood floor.  Adrian sat on the floor, drawing an elaborate cat tower, complete with scratching posts and several different rooms for the cat to sleep in.  Nova slid off the couch and hugged her arms around his neck.  He looked up from his drawing to smile into her eyes.  She playfully kissed his neck.  His smile widened, and then he stiffened as she nibbled his ear. 

“Get a room,” Oscar shouted to them, still raiding Nova’s cupboards.  

“Shut up,” Nova said to him while Adrian blushed furiously.  Oscar just grinned.  

“You know, you don’t have to make this so elaborate.  I only got one cat,” Nova told Adrian, referring to the tower he had drawn.

“I know, I just enjoy drawing things like this.  Besides, Feroce will have the coolest cat tower ever!”  he said sheepishly.

“You're a dork.”

“But you love me,” he responded.  He pulled her into a kiss before she could move her head.  Oscar and Ruby snickered behind them.  Nova raised her hand and flipped them off without pulling away from her kiss.  This caused them to laugh even harder.  Adrian gently pulled away from Nova and grinned at her face.  

Adrian turned back towards his completed drawing and ran his hands down the wall.  He pulled out, and the drawing came with him, now an elegant 3D cat tower, complete with at least five cat beds and scratching posts everywhere.  Feroce looked up at the new furniture addition with curiosity.  She padded over and sniffed it hard.  It apparently met her expectations and she climbed to the highest level, turned in a circle and sat down.  Then, she promptly fell asleep.  

“Thanks for drawing it, Adrian.  It looks so nice!” Nova said.  

“No problem,” he replied.  All of a sudden, Oscar’s phone let out a loud 

ding.  Ruby started and Nova whirled around.

“Chill guys, just my phone,” Oscar reassured them.  “Looks like I have to leave. Adrian, Danna, Ruby, you want a ride?” he asked.

“Sure,” Danna and Ruby chimed, simultaneously.  

“What about you, Adrian?  You need a ride?”  Oscar asked.

“Nah, I’m good.  My dads said they would be happy to pick me up.  Thanks though.”

“You do you, I’m outta here.  Enjoy your time with the demon cat.”  Nova laughed as Oscar glared at the tiny sleeping form.  

“Bye Nova, see you tomorrow,” Ruby said as she walked out the door.  

“Yeah, bye!” Danna said, getting up as well.  

“Thanks for going with me Danna,” Nova told her.  “See you guys tomorrow.”  Ruby and Danna waved goodbye as they stepped into Oscar’s waiting car.  Nova shut the door and turned back toward Adrian.  

“I texted my dads, one of them is going to come pick me up in like an hour.  They can’t come till then, I hope that is okay.”

“It's fine,” said Nova.  She plopped down onto the couch, next to him.  

“Tell me about today,” Adrian said.  Nova’s therapist had been encouraging  Nova to open up more about everything.  Adrian had been strictly enforcing that, and so he made it a point every single day to listen about Nova’s day, no matter how boring or slow it was.  Nova smiled and snuggled into his chest.  

“It was mostly good,” she said.

“Mostly?” he wrinkled his eyebrows.

“I had a panic attack, right before we went into the store.  It’s six months after the battle,  and I can barely walk on a crowded sidewalk.  I’m a poor excuse for a Renegade,” she said.

“Hey.  You are an amazing Renegade.  Even better than me!”  Nova smiled a little.  “Six months isn’t that much time, and anyways, you went through so much more than anyone.  No would expect you to be fine after only six months.” he paused.  “Give it time.”

“I know, I just feel like such a failure.”

“You are everything but a failure.  I love you, Nova Artino.”

“And I you, Adrian Everhart.”

“Tell me about the rest of your day now.”  Nova filled him in on every detail of her day.  And he listened intently, only paying attention to her.  He smiled and laughed and comforted her at the appropriate times, and when Nova was finished, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her chest.  It always felt like that after she had talked to Adrian.  She could talk and someone would listen.  He would hold her, and tell her that everything would be okay when things were hard.

“Im lucky to have you.” Nova told him.  

“Im luckier.” she smiled.  His phone dinged.  “Shoot, my dad is outside.  I have to go.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  Adrian stood up and walked to the door.

“Thanks for convincing me to get Feroce.  I’m glad I can have someone to share my flat with.”

“Of course. Anything to make you happy.”  

Nova pulled his head to hers and gave him a kiss on the lips.  He blushed again, but didn’t break away.  A horn honked outside.

“Sounds like someones ready to go,” Nova said.  “See you tomorrow!”  Adrian opened the door and rushed out to meet Simon, who was idling on the curb.  Nova could see Max sitting in the back seat.  She lifted an arm and waved to the two of them.  Adrian got into the car and  they drove away while Nova walked inside.  She collapsed onto her bed, worn out.  A smile played its way across her lips as she gazed at the fierce little kitten that was now hers.  

“Hello little Feroce,” she said to the cat.  Feroce opened her eyes to a slit, and let out a loud purr.  Nova laughed and for once, in a very long time she was happy. 

[slippinmickeys]

The Countess (3/4)

You can find the first two parts here on AO3.

“Bill!” she said sharply, her blood running cold.

“How dare you lay your hands upon my sister!” Bill shouted, and took another step toward the Earl, who seemed momentarily in a daze. Dana whipped her hand out and pushed against her brother’s chest as William Mulder shook his head and came back to himself.

“I-” he started to say.

“I had my hands upon him, too,” Dana said quietly, and her mother’s open mouth finally snapped shut.

“Dana, what on earth were you doing?” the Marchioness said, looking sharply at her daughter.

“I think it’s fairly obvious what we were doing,” she mumbled.

“Sir, I assure you...” Wexford stepped forward with a conciliatory hand up, trying to calm the situation.

Bill Scully was having none of it and took a swing at Wexford over Dana’s head. The Earl ducked quickly out of the way.

“No!” Dana shouted, pushing again at her brother’s chest.

“Why you-” Bill started to say, his face red, spittle gathering on his lips.

“Quiet, all of you!” The Marchioness hissed with such force that the three people before her stopped in their tracks and looked to her.

“Sir,” she said to the Earl, “my daughter is being courted by the Duke of Ashbury. Your lips upon her do you no credit.”

“Lady Sunderland,” he started to respond, when the Marchioness held up a hand.

“If you would speak of this to no one, the three of us shan’t either. We can return to the ball as though nothing had ever happened.”

Dana’s heart fell. She didn’t want to forget that this had happened. She wanted to go back and live in the moment forever.

“But something has happened, Mother,” Bill spat, slapping the glove he had pulled off (no doubt to smack the Earl across the face with) across his knee and then pointing it at Wexford for emphasis, “and he has to pay for it.”

“William,” Lady Sunderland hissed, her tolerance for his antics reaching its capacity, “if you would like to retain your estate, we need your sister to marry the Duke of Ashbury, and he will not marry her if she is ruined!”

Ruined. It felt like such a wildly inaccurate  word for what had happened to her. She felt fulfilled. Uplifted. Saved.

“Lady Dana needn’t marry the Duke of Ashbury,” Wexford said quietly, and all eyes turned to him. “She can marry me.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

“You?” Dana said, in shock.

“You?” The Marchioness and Bill and parroted back.

“If it is merely a marriage you require to help your family save their estate, then a marriage to me would suffice,” he said. “I am the one who has ruined your daughter,” with this he looked in apology to Dana, “and I will do the honorable thing as a gentleman.”

“But, but…” her mother stuttered, “she has no dowry to speak of. Nothing to offer but herself.”

“A gift greater than any dowry, I think,” he said quietly, still looking at Dana, whose mind had begun to spin. “Unless she wishes to marry the Duke?” he asked. “On my honor I would not stand in the way.”

All eyes then swung to Dana and she was so overwhelmed that she promptly sat down on the bench beside them and began taking deep breaths to calm herself.

“Dana?” her mother asked after a long moment, her voice concerned, but steady, “Do you wish to marry the Earl? Or the Duke?”

“I-” she began, and swung her eyes to look at Wexford, who was looking at her with such tenderness that her heart felt as though it would melt in her chest.

“The Earl,” she finally said, “I wish to marry the Earl.”

The Marchioness clapped her hands together, a smile blossoming on her face.

“Very well,” she said to Wexford, “come by the house tomorrow at noon. My husband will be home. We will draw up the agreement.”

Wexford nodded at her and looked back to Dana.

“I will go back inside and attempt to smooth things over with Ashbury,” the Marchioness continued, “I know many fine young ladies, I will distract him with one.” With that she swung back toward the house, her skirts whirling behind her. “Bill!” She shouted over her shoulder, “Come along!”

Bill stood stock still, and then, with one more withering look at both Dana and the Earl, he turned smartly on his heel and followed his mother back into the house.

After a moment, Wexford lowered himself slowly onto the bench beside Dana.

“Are you all right?” he asked her gently.

She nodded mutely.

“I must apologize to you,” he said, “I should have never been so brash or so forward as to kiss you. I fear I may have ruined what you saw as your future life.”

Finally she turned to him.

“But you have saved it,” she said. “Ten minutes ago I saw no future at all. Now, at least I have one in which I’ll be permitted to read Evanston.”

He smiled at her, reached out a tentative hand and put it on her shoulder.

“Is your family’s financial situation dire and immediate?” he asked kindly.

She nodded.

“The direst. Even now I wear a borrowed dress.”

“Then I shall obtain a special license,” he said, “and bring it and a minister with me tomorrow. We shall be married in the afternoon.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his. Her mind continued to spin like a top. He reached out and ran a finger lightly over the material of her dress.

“I have only one request. You must keep this dress,” he said, “I shall pay its owner a small fortune to retain it.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She sat in the garden with the Earl discussing books and science and all manner of things for over an hour before she fled the ball. She had not wanted to run into the Duke or see the looks of the other amassed ladies, whispering behind their fans and gossiping about where she’d run off to during dinner.

She fell into bed still dressed, the emotion of the last few hours catching up with her.

She awoke the next morning with her corset digging painfully into her side, and her sister flopping down onto the bed beside her.

“Dana!” Melissa hissed, and Dana roused to consciousness with a jolt and a wince.

“Missy,” she said, bringing her hand to her side, “do help me with this corset.”

Melissa helped her out of the dress and stays and Dana sunk back onto the bed in her shift, avoiding Melissa’s eye.

“You fled dinner,” Missy said, sinking down next to her, “and then you fled you the ball. And then mother was parading a group of eligible ladies in front of Ashbury for the remainder of the night. And then I got a letter this morning at dawn saying there was to be a wedding here today and would I mind bringing over some flowers from the hothouse and my best dress! Dana, what happened last night?!”

“It was the Duke,” she finally said. “Oh Missy, dinner was so awful. I couldn’t abide sitting at that table with him for one more minute.”

“And now you will be marrying him, today?!”

“Oh, it’s not him I’m marrying,” Dana said, and off her sister’s puzzled look, she explained all that had happened in the garden the prior evening.

When she had finished, Missy’s hand flew to her mouth.

“The Earl of Wexford!” she said, surprised and delighted, “Dana, you’re marrying The Fox!”

Dana nodded dumbly. She still wasn’t sure it wasn’t all some dream.

“Melissa, he’s not what you think,” she said, and told her about the childhood friend he had helped and how the rumors weren’t true.

“Oh, I am glad to hear it,” Melissa said, “but I admit that a man who keeps an experienced courtesan in a manse of her own is sure to be an accomplished lover, and oh, how I wanted that for you.”

“Missy!”

“Don’t go being chaste with me, Dana, your wedding night is in a matter of hours and we will be talking about sexual congress. You need to be prepared.”

To be truthful, she hadn’t even thought of that. She remembered the kiss she had shared with the Earl and her toes curled into the carpet.

“Don’t worry, little sister,” Melissa said, squeezing her knee, and lowering her voice, “laying with a man is more wonderful than you could hope to dream.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She looked around the room as the minister droned on about the tenets of matrimony, taking in the faces of her gathered family members: her little brother Charles smiling from beneath a shock of ginger hair, his gangly arms disappearing into sleeves that were a bit too short, Melissa, holding the arm of her husband and smiling at her encouragingly. On the other side of the room she saw her mother, who looked as pleased as ever, while her father appeared a bit shell-shocked. Bill, standing next to him, had the look of a man who had smelled something foul. She felt a squeeze of her hands and turned to her Groom, who was looking down at her with a smile and expectant expression.

The minister was looking at her as well. She shook herself.

“I do!” she ventured, and to her mild relief, before she knew it, Wexford was sliding a ring over her finger and kissing her sweetly, and there were cheers of “Huzzah!” ringing throughout the room.

The wedding breakfast (or rather supper) went by in a blur, Cook putting forth such a feast as the family had not seen in years. At the end of the evening, Wexford handed her into his carriage and then settled in next her -- the first time they had been alone together since their time in the garden the night before.

“Lord Wexford,” she said, planning to thank him for everything he had done, when he interrupted her.

“Please,” he said, “call me ‘Mulder.’”

She smiled self-consciously. Of course she shouldn’t be addressing her husband so formally.

“Not William?” she asked.

“I know close to fifty Williams,” he said, “and am now related to two more. I would be turning my head on every street corner if I were to answer to my Christian name.”

“Then you should call me ‘Scully,’” she said.

“Indeed?” he said, showing her a smile full of teeth.”But you are a Mulder now.”

“Consider it a pet name,” she said. “While other husbands and wives are muttering ‘darlings’ and ‘dears,’ we shall be laughing behind our hands at our own inside joke.”

“Scully it is,” he said.

Scully. She liked the way it sounded coming from his lips.

“Scully,” he said one more time, and then grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

Her stomach dropped low and she remembered the words and instructions of her sister, telling her what it was like to lay naked with a man, and her warnings that the first time was likely to be unpleasant, but that it would grow much more than pleasant the more they did it.

“Is your house far?” she said, to cover for her nerves, peering to look out the window of the carriage.

“Not far, no,” he said, his eyes looking at her so acutely that she would not have been surprised had her dress started smoking on the spot.

When the carriage pulled up in front of the house -- one of the largest Scully had ever seen in London -- the butler (a Mr. Bixby) was waiting for them at the door, his back straight and his livery impeccable. When he showed them into the house, he turned to Scully.

“Would you care to meet the staff tonight or in the morning, Lady Wexford?”

It took Scully a moment to realize that he was addressing her.

“Oh!” she said, and turned to see the servants waiting patiently in a line along the wall of the foyer. “Now would be just fine.”

And so she and Mr. Bixby made their way slowly down the line of servants whose names she was sure not to remember by morning. Mulder walked patiently behind her with his hands clasped behind his back, shooting her the occasional reassuring smile. When at last they got to Housekeeper and Cook, Scully’s head was spinning.

“And this,” he said, pointing to a young blonde woman who gave Scully a tentative smile, “is Prudence. She’ll be your lady’s maid until you’re able to interview and hire your own.”

“I’m sure she’ll do splendidly,” Scully said and the young woman curtsied.

“Can I show you to your private chambers, Lady Wexford?” Prudence asked tentatively, “or will Lord Wexford be wanting to do that himself?”

Both women looked to Mulder who smiled and made a hand gesture which meant “by all means go ahead,” and she followed Prudence up the steps and down corridors and hallways, thoroughly and abjectly lost by the time they reached the set of rich double doors that led into her personal chambers.

Mulder had been following quietly behind them and now leaned in and gave Scully a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll be by in a little bit?” he said and then walked backwards away from her for several steps before turning and making his way down the hallway.

Scully followed Prudence into the room.

‘Room’ did not do the space justice. It seemed as big as an opera hall to Scully, opulently decorated in greens and pinks, the furniture all a rich mahogany.

“I’ll have someone bring up your things,” Prudence said, and then hesitated a moment before going on. “Do you have a trousseau that needs to be brought up right away?”

Scully shook her head, a bit embarrassed, and Prudence smiled at her kindly.

“I brought in some things I thought you might use,” she said, “they’re in the wardrobe.”

“Thank you Prudence,” she said.

“Of course, your Ladyship,” Prudence said, then took a hesitant step toward Scully. “Shall I help you undress? We’ve gone ahead and brought you up a bath if you’d like a wash.”

“Oh that would be heavenly, thank you,” she said.

With that the girl led Scully through a small door to an opulently appointed chamber that she hadn’t realized was there, where there was a large tub full of steaming water.

Prudence assisted her in pulling all the pins from her hair and then helped her out of her gown and corset, curtsied and backed out of the room, assuring Scully that she should ring for her should she need anything at all.

Scully stepped into the bath that had been scented with lavender and tried to process all that the day had held for her, and all that was still to come.

[dumbfuck-mojave]

Companions React to Sole With Talkative Bird: Part 1

This is part one of a single ask. I just wanted to split it up since it would be long af otherwise. This react includes: Codsworth, Curie, Cait along with a short pre-war intro. Warnings for this part: Swearing (obviously) and brief mention of Cait’s drug abuse in one sentence. 

This was such a hilarious request how could I not start it (almost) immediately. Also, thank you for the request! If you enjoyed, feel free to request more!

For context, I did “two parts” to each react: A part where the companions first meet Sole and their bird and another general reaction to it being so talkative.  They aren’t exactly split up in a sense but I hope you get what I’m saying. I also didn’t really have a set focus on how long the certain “parts” were going to be so yeahhh 😅.

As the sirens blared, Sole looked helplessly around the house. 

“Sole, come on!” Their spouse yelled frantically, holding a fussing Shaun in their arms. But another fussing was heard from the room the two lovers shared. It would never be allowed, but Sole couldn’t just leave him there. Bolting to the room, they hurriedly unlocked the large cage in the corner, holding their hand out so their precious bird could climb on. 

“I don’t mean to rush but you three must hurry and go now!” Codsworth said, it almost sounded like there was a bit of nervousness in his tone. Sole rushed out into the living room once more. They looked at Codsworth.

“Codsworth, stay safe.” Sole said solemnly as their spouse rushed them to the door, somehow  either missing the bird or choosing to ignore it.

“Babe, they will never let you bring him in.” Sole’s spouse said as they ran up the hill.

“We already had to leave Codsworth, I couldn’t leave Comet too. He was screaming so loud, I just had too. I'll find a way to hide him, I’m sure of it. “

Astonishingly, Sole did find a way to hide the bird during the journey through Vault 111. Comet had to have appeared on the life monitor, but it was no use worrying about now,  were Sole’s thoughts as they lost their last slivers of consciousness. 

Sole was so grateful Comet managed to survive being cryogenically frozen and unfrozen twice, because after what they had seen, he was the only thing that was keeping them grounded. Stumbling their way through the now deserted Vault, bright light blinded them as they were brought to the surface after more than 200 years.

Codsworth: “Sole, you’re back!”, Codsworth shouted gleefully as he saw Sole walking towards Sanctuary, Comet perched on their shoulder.

“Hello Codsworth.”, Sole seemed to be in a dazed state as they continued to look around what was once a lively, vibrant neighborhood. 

“Well then, it’s to see you again! Comet is with you as well! Oh, that’s wonderful! May I ask, where are <spouse> and young master Shaun? They mustn’t be late for dinner.... Again. You do know how your spouse loved to take Shaun on walks. I remember-”

“Codsworth, please. Did you see them? The people that took Shaun? They must have passed through here right?”

“Oh, you always were a jokester, weren’t you? Unless…. You’re serious? Oh heavens!” Codsworth waved his arms around frantically, “Then what has happened to your dear spouse?”

“They’re dead, Codsworth. I need to go find out who killed them, and find Shaun. Do you know of anywhere that could help me?”

“Well, there is the town of Concord over the bridge. It’s a bit of a walk but you may be able to find some help there.”

“Ok, that’s where I’ll start. I just- I think I need to sit down for a moment.” Sole suddenly gasped, gently holding their hand to their chest. Comet snuggled his beak into the side of their head.

“Gracious, come inside at once.” Codsworth led them into their pre-war house and sat them down on the couch, “I will try to find you something to fill your stomach, not eating for two hundred years must have left you famished!”

Sole blankly stared down. How could this be? Had it really been 200 years? Who had taken Shaun? And why? So many questions rushed through their mind as Comet made his way from their shoulder to their open hands. 

“Hey!” Comet chirped and whistled, looking up and Sole. Sole looked up at Comet with glistening eyes, weakling lifting their free hand to pet him on the head. After a few moments, Comet hopped off and flew into the back of the house. 

“Um, mum/sir? I do apologize, but I can’t quite seem to find anything that would give you a full meal.” Codsworth floated back into the house and hovered in front of Sole, “Are you okay?”

Sole looked up, startled and focusing on the present once more, “That’s okay Codsworth. Thank you for trying anyways.” 

“I think your spouse was planning on giving this to you as a gift before everything happened.” Codsworth extended his claw to drop a holotape in Sole’s hand.”, My protocol prevents me from listening to it, but I think it’s a message for you.” 

Sole flipped the tape over in their hands, running their pointer finger along the ridged edge. Hi Honey was written in slanted handwriting on a small piece of paper attached to one side, a few ink spots splattered around it. Sole’s hands tightened around it as they felt more sobs grow in their chest. Whatever they were going to do after that was interrupted by Comet flying back into the room, landing on the scratched-up island in the middle of the kitchen. Comet jumped up and down, aggressively shaking his favorite toy: A small ball with a bell trapped inside it. Both Codsworth and Sole stared at him. 

“I always told you you never should have gotten that for him. He went on and on with that thing during the night.” Codsworth sighed exasperatedly. Oh, of course Codsworth remembered Comet from before the war. Comet was with Sole long before Codsworth was, so they’ve known each other  since the day Codsworth was booted up. 

What he did not expect was how talkative the bird was going to be. Comet always seemed to be saying something and at first Codsworth thought Comet was going to only say compliments and affections. Whether Comet was complimenting Sole while on their shoulder or talking to Sole’s spouse through the cage, it was always the sweetest little things. He even complimented Codsworth, calling him “Pretty Codsy” as he perched on one of Codsworth’s eyes. Sole told Codsworth Comet probably picked it up from them calling him Codsy offhandedly and Comet’s preference for compliments. It’s not like Codsworth minded, it even gave him a small boost of confidence being complimented so frequently. 

But Comet had a preference for something else. One day, while  Codsworth was cleaning the living room, Comet flew in and promptly called Codsworth a “Fucking rustbucket”. Codsworth stopped in shock the same way he did when one of the neighbor's called him that earlier that day. It was probably where he learned such a vile saying. From that point forward, Codsworth slowly learned to deal with it. Comet was just repeating phrases he had heard, no matter if it was vicious insults or heartfelt compliments. And even though he would never admit it, Codsworth did feel some joy after hearing Comet tell a raider to fuck off.

Curie: When Comet flew past the window into Curie’s room, she almost couldn’t believe it.

“Is that an African Grey Parrot?” Curie asked in her gentle voice and she moved to the window, “How did such a thing ever get down here?”

“Is someone in there?” Sole’s voice echoed down the hall as Comet flew back and sat on their head. 

“Oh! A human! Finally. I have been waiting so long for you to come.” Curie gasped, “Please tell me you are authorized to release me.” 

“I’m not a person from Vault-Tec. Why do you need me to release you, why can’t you do it yourself?” Sole asked. 

“I am not authorized to do so without written or verbal permission from a Vault-Tec representative. Are you authorized to release me? Please say yes.”

“Yes!” Comet harped on top of Sole’s head. Sole sighed exasperatedly while Comet looked down at them, waiting for a treat. Sole held up their arm so he could climb down on it and put a seed ball in their hand for him to grab.

“You now what? Whatever. I’m authorized to let you out. So you may come out.” Sole flatly said. 

“Oh this is great news indeed!” Curie replied eagerly,” I will open the door for you at once” 

As the door slid open, Curie held out a vial to Sole.

“I am pleased to report I finished all my duties 83 years ago. The molerats were infected with a variety of pathogens and this was made as a cure-all formula. Quite amazing, is it not? Do be careful where you use this though, as it is the only one left and I do not have the materials to make more.” 

“Alright, thank you!” Sole smiled as they took the cure. They had taken extra steps to prevent getting bitten by the rabid molerats travelling through the Vault and it worked. Now all they had to do was get it back to the main part and give it to Austin, “ Would you like to come with me back to the Vault?”

“I very much would, monsieur/madame. I haven’t been out of that room for ages.” 

“Let’s get going then.” Sole nodded, setting off towards the stairs.

As they were drawing close to the exit, Curie couldn’t help but stare and the bird perched on Sole’s shoulders. 

“May I ask where you got your bird? I have not seen one for a very long time and a healthy Parrot no less! You must take good care of them.”

“Oh!” Sole laughed, “I’ve been with this guy a long time. I’ve had him about five/six years now.”

“He seems to trust you very much. If it is possible, I would like to take a closer look at his habits when we get out of this place.” 

“You fucker!” Comet squawked as Curie finished her sentence. 

“Mon Dieu! That is so rude!” Curie puffed, hovering a few inches upward. 

“I’m sorry! He doesn’t mean anything by it, I think, he just repeats things he’s heard.” Sole faltered as Comet gleefully said fuck over and over, “ I may have a swearing problem to work on.”

“African Grey parrots are very intelligent, so it isn’t surprising that he picked up so many words.” Curie explained, “ Not to say that was called for.” 

“I swear, he’s a really sweet bird. Comet, you’re nice aren’t you?”Sole turned to their bird, “Come on, isn’t Curie nice?” 

“Very nice!”, Comet twittered, bouncing up and down, “Pretty voice, woo-hoo!” 

“Oh, why thank you! My vocal pattern and accent is unique to me, designed by one of the scientists that used to be here, Mr. Collins!”  

As talked about, Curie did examine Comet when they got back into Vault 81. Sole knew their bird was very much an attention hog and chuckled as Comet sat pridefully when Curie gently observed him. Comet took a liking to Curie fairly quickly and complimented her frequently. When she finally got her synth body, Comet immediately flew to her and snuggled his head against her cheek. Though she enjoyed the compliments, Comet would scream out a random curse word from time to time, startling Curie. She mostly was just excited there was a living, breathing parrot for her to interact and study with. 

Cait: “Holy fuck!” A raider screamed, right before choking on his own blood. 

As a gunfight started, Cait looked out of the metal cage to see a shadowed figure ripping apart raiders with an assault rifle. 

“Cait! Keep your head down!” Tommy whispered as he crouched in the corner.

“Oh shove off, you coward.”

“Yeah, bitch!”

Both Cait and Tommy looked at the bird that landed in the cage with confusion. Even more confusion followed when the shadowy figure stepped into the cage, the parrot immediately flying to them.  

“Hey, buddy! What’s the deal with you killing all my customers?” Tommy scoffed at Sole, who seemed mildly displeased that they had gotten so much blood on their skin.

“Um, I just saved your life. You should be grateful that those raiders didn’t start in-fighting before I got here.” 

“Yeah, bitch!”

“Comet, hush,” Sole rubbed their bird’s head with a calloused thumb, “What even is this place anyway?”

“Not from around these parts, huh? This, my bird whispering friend, is the Combat Zone.” Tommy opened his arms a bit at the now empty theater, “It was a raider fighting hotspot until you decided to clear the house.” 

The wheels turned in Tommy’s head and when he turned back around you could almost envision the light bulb popping up. Ding!

“So, you saw the end of my little bird’s fight, correct? How’d you like it?”

“God Dammit Tommy! I told you to stop calling me that.” 

“It was very impressive.” Sole turned towards Cait, “ You are a very capable fighter.”

Cait slapped her palms against her thighs, then up in the air, “Finally, someone with some appreciation.” 

“Listen, I might appreciate more if you didn’t keep plunging that junk into your arm. You’re high right now, aren’t you!” Tommy said angrily.

“Why do you care!? It helps me bring in the caps, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t matter how I do it!”

“It’s making you sloppy Cait!” Tommy said exasperatedly, “You know what? Let’s make a deal. Since I’m not bringing in any caps at the moment and you think Cait here is a capable fighter, why don’t you take her off my hands while I try to figure out a new business strategy.”

“Only if she agrees to it.” 

“She’ll agree to it once she figures out we got no audience, no caps, and no one else to talk to but me.” 

“Jesus, point taken,” Cait huffed, turning to Sole, “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.” 

Once out on the road again, Cait started asking questions about Comet.

“So, where the hell did you get something like that?”

“Comet? Oh, I got him before the war.”

“You what?”

Sole smiled, “It’s a long story to be honest.” 

Comet jumped off of Sole’s shoulder onto their bag, reaching inside to grab at his bell. He started rattling it aggressively in Cait’s direction. 

“Oh, that means he likes you!” Sole piped in. 

“Well if you don’t quit that rattling I’m about to take that bell away from you.” Cait growled as the rattling got louder and faster.

Sole, not wanting to piss off Cait more, gently pried the bell from Comet’s beak and put it back in the bag. 

“You’re beautiful, woo-hoo!” Comet swayed back and forth on Sole’s arms, nodding his head to an imaginary beat. 

“Come on, Cait. He’s just trying to impress you.” Sole pushed, bobbing their arm up and down to match Comet’s dance. 

“The day I take a compliment from a critter is the day I give up the last shred of decency I have.”

Though it took awhile, Cait eventually got used to Comet’s presence. She would never show it, but she was actually a bit scared of him at first. The first time Comet got on her shoulder she nearly slapped him off out of fear, if it wasn’t for Sole swooping in and calming her down. But during her withdrawals, when she felt too nauseous to even stand up, Comet let her pet his head softly, crooning a soft tune. That changed something in Cait. Now you wouldn’t even know Cait was scared of birds at first, as she handles him like a pro. She still doesn’t like him, so don’t even think that *wink wink*. 

[gvldntrbl]

It was all a dream...

Character: Jakovan Petrov

Location: Dawn Court’s Trial

The landscape around Jakovan shifted, the view before him slowly faded into an all too familiar sight. The grounds of the Petrov estate. Despite knowing that his legs were still as the trial began, Jakovan felt as though he were moving and soon the winter fae found himself on the fond stretch of forest that led to a large frozen lake. Regardless of the property’s vastness, since boyhood, it was Misha’s favorite place. The sound of camaraderie and laughter reached his ears as he stood on the edge of the path, its end spilling into more land and then the lake. They were having a shashlyk. A warm smile touched his lips at the realization. They were definitely overdue. The expression cemented further, settling itself onto his skin at the most welcoming vision. They were all there, sporadically gathered around a set of tables or enjoying themselves nearby. His parents, children, brothers, their families, and Wren. Viktor, Svala, Rik and Tatia. Hell, even Svala and Rik’s children were there. The younger ones were playing and running about while the older ones skated with what what appeared to be their own guests.

The delicious aroma of winter court staples whiffed over to him as he stood, blue eyes around briefly and taking in the more temperate weather. While it was still cold, it wasn’t freezing nor snowing. At the very least, the cold had lessened enough for his warmblooded mate to join the rest of them outside. As if summoned by his very thought of her, Wren turned to greet him with a bright heart-stopping grin on her face. Try as he might, Jakovan was unable to not return the smile with a quiet chuckle as he made his way over. Yet the full vision of Wren, when she stood, nearly gave him pause. With one hand, she rest the tips of her fingers atop of the table and the left laid, golden diamond glinting like the city she once called home,  against her stomach. ...Her full, well rounded belly. Wren was pregnant. Not for a lack of effort on Jakovan’s part. But still.

“Pa’chka!” “Baba!” A parroting set of voices grabbed his attention as they neared. Jakovan’s gaze moved from Wren to a pair of toddling, golden brown faces as they raced toward him. “Jasmine! Amias!” He heard Wren call out. “Be careful!” Wordlessly, Jakovan firmed the snow beneath their feet, creating a safe, direct path for the toddlers as they ran. One hurrying, giggling figure had a wild mane and smile that could only be a gift from his mate and and the other had eyebrows and a jawline that Jakovan recognized as his own. Two - there were two of them. A boy and a girl. Whatever breath that settled within his lungs had left him upon the discovery. ...Twins? One of them, Amias, met Jakovan’s shin with a smack and a bubbling round of giggles. Luckily, while stunned, Jakovan was still steady on his feet. Each child grabbed his hands, one to each limb, and led him the final way to table. Where some of his loved ones sat, laughing, drinking and eating. Others had left, gone on to enjoy themselves with one thing or another. The children spoke to Jakovan, oblivious to their father’s surprised daze at their existence, as they walked. “Baba, eat.” Jasmine instructed, her father’s finger snug in the hold of her little hand as she tugged it, in an attempt to grab his attention. “Food, papa. Hungry?” Amias asked, big round brown eyes glancing up at Jakovan from a crown of curls. He’d literally just met them and yet the little pair further melted whatever resolve he had left. He joined them. How could he not? He helped Wren back into her seat, the couple sharing a soft kiss before his wife gave a quiet wave of dismissal along with a half-hearted comment that she was fine. Still, she accepted his help.

A joke set off a fresh round of laughter and it rippled through the group at the tables. It was well-timed as Jasmine - sporting a big, pretty bow to gather her detailed, braided hair - moved to gather in his lap. “Pa’chka,” She uttered, trimming the already short and informal words for daddy in Russian. Sweet girl that she was, couldn’t fully say it yet. Stubbornly, like a Petrov, Jasmine tried. “I sit, na’am?” His chest rattled with a pleasant laugh, glancing down at the lap full of toddler that he now had. Quietly, he noticed how she eased in a bit of Arabic. Her mother’s child, indeed. “For now, da.” He agreed as if he had a choice, tapping her button nose with the pad of his index finger, as Jasmine sat parallel to his chest, on his lap. “You had fun today?” He asked, attention on her. Jasmine promptly regaled him with her day so far at his inquiry.  Like any parent, Jakovan knew that eventually, she would grow tired of grown up talk and join the younger children again to play. Like Amias had. But for now, proud father that he was, Misha would take what he could get. Food was passed around and Jakovan chose his favorites meats and, after seeing the look his wife cast him especially with their daughter in his lap, he wisely chose more vegetables than he would’ve otherwise.

But before Jakovan could touch his food, things shifted again. He blinked, more in surprise at the abruptness of the change than anything else. “Did you fall asleep, my love?” Jakovan glanced down. Apparently, he flinched in whatever world this was - wherein his inner most desires had been easily exposed. Curious brown eyes met him matched with a set of almost smirking lips as Wren looked up at him. It seemed that his wife had now taken residence in Jakovan’s arms instead where the couple sat on a bench, with a perfect view of the skaters on the lake. “Where’s Jasmine?” He asked instead, ignoring the quiet giggle Wren gave as she assumed that he’d fallen asleep. She looked at him strangely, clearly noticing the slight alarm in his tone, and pressed a warm hand to his chest. “Inside. Natasha took her in for a nap. ...Are you alright, Misha?” Jakovan shook his head and his chest lowered with a heavy sigh. “I will be...” He trailed off, unable to pinpoint how or why he felt the way he did. Just that he felt different. Almost as if he were in a daze. “Here,” Wren murmured, taking his hand into her gloved one and, after removing his, sat Jakovan’s hand on her covered belly. “Wait for it.” She instructed lowly. “...Ah, there she goes.” Jakovan felt what he could only believe was a kick. The dazed sensation from earlier faded, pulled him deeper into their moment on the bench. “Oh! There he goes.” He rebutted. Wren scoffed with a laughter under her breath. “No, this one’s an Amira. I know it. A mother always knows.” Jakovan shook his head. “No, Jamil. Another boy.” He countered, eyes on Wren’s face. “...Does it hurt?” She shook her head. “Much less than it did with the twins.” The two shared a private laugh. Both were beyond surprised when they learned she would birth two children instead of one. While twins did run in Jakovan’s family - his father was one. But none of his brothers were twins nor did they have any themselves. So it happened upon them instead - with Jakovan already two adult children deep into fatherhood.

“Mama, mama! Look!” Amias called out, sitting tall as he could atop of slim shoulders, small gloved hands in the firm grasp of his older sister’s, Annika, as she skated them over. “He wanted to join us on the ice.” She explained, eyes falling apologetically to Wren. “Sorry, Wren.” Jakovan quietly observed as the two shared a look of understanding. “Why don’t you join your mamoolychka? Hmm?” She glanced up the toddler as he looked down at her, one of her hands slipping passed Amias to tickle at his bundled sides. It sent him into a round of infectious giggles. “It’s nap time anyways, right, Wren?” Annika instructed, easily wrangling Amias from her shoulders to hold on her hip. The two shared a warm hug. “I’ll be here when you wake up, promise.” Amias nodded sternly, as if taking his sister’s promise with the utmost importance. “Sleep well, moi horoshyi.” She murmured before handing him to Jakovan, who’d stood to take Amias. The moment was sweet. Each of them had been since he returned home, so to speak. And the trial, the day dream almost had him. Jakovan nearly succumbed to it. Had it not been for the final detail. Annika’s long-awaited acceptance of Wren, both as his mate and now as his future wife had never occurred. The children he’d yet to have with her aside, it was that fine element, that alerted Jakovan that this wasn’t real. None of it was. Amias in his arms and Annika skating off again, he turned to Wren. “Let’s go, Sonce.” And so they did - but Jakovan didn’t join them. He passed the trial instead.

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 110

It was hard to make heads or tails of any of the information you’d pulled after that night. Whether “Kilgrave” was a first name or a last name- or more realistically, probably was a fake name. It didn’t appear anywhere. No records. No whispers. No murmurs. But, you supposed that was easy for someone like him. Anyone he came across he could talk into unwilling subjugation until his time with them was over. ...except for you and that woman-

Jessica Jones. While you’d disagreed with Tony and told him you had no interest in watching her or spying on her, JARVIS had delivered his findings to your email the next morning. You sat in your office, third cup of coffee steaming away, you’d stared at the subject line for a long time. A long time, wondering if you should just delete it. 

Then… you clicked on it. And let your eyes look for all of two seconds. Enough to get her name. Place of residence- and then you deleted it. 

She’d been abducted, same as you. She’d found a way out, same as you. Now she was angry. Her path diverted there. You’d fallen into a deep depression and guilt after surviving that incident. She just seemed on a warpath. There was nothing you could do to help her, especially considering she thought you should have done more in the first place. Because if you had, she wouldn’t have been taken and forced to endure whatever he’d done to her. 

Were you a coward? 

A thought that plagued you the rest of the day. Maybe you were. Maybe you really should have done more. Gotten out of bed sooner. Talked to Fury. Went on a search effort with your team. Done anything other than waste away and suffer- ...which then led to other people’s suffering. Deaths, too. No telling how many. 

It was this dark cloud that formed over your head that kept your next week preoccupied. You tasked Pepper with pulling all the recent MTA bus accident reports- quietly. And when she asked why, you simply told her you needed to check up on something important. There was a quiet tense feeling in your heart… one that continued to grow the more incident reports you went through and found nothing. A great testament to the city you were in that there were so many accidents on record. Pedestrians getting hit and buses needing to be repaired. 

But as for fatal accidents…? None on record. There were a few buses that had reported significant damage, and the inquiries that had been done to get insurance to pay out had been all over the place for the handful you’d discovered. Was it possible that the city of New York was covering up hitting someone and killing them? Sure. You wouldn’t put it past the governing body. Especially not after all you’d been through. But… it was extremely troubling, to say the least.

Jessica had been telling the truth. You were sure of that. But she was telling a truth she thought she knew. Had she seen Kilgrave get hit by a bus in the middle of a road? Sure. Had she seen that his injuries had been devastating? Also sure. Had he died? ...not so sure. There was no record of it, if he had. And that was upsetting. 

Did he have healing factor, like you? Had he crawled his way somewhere and was resting up right now? It was entirely possible. Maybe even more likely than you wanted to admit. While Jess had blamed you for a lot, things that may have been true, even… part of you wanted to be done with it anyway. You didn’t want the universe to ask you to try and make this right. And yet- 

“Have a minute, honey?” 

You’d been staring blankly at your computer screen for the better part of twenty minutes now. Tony’s interruption was not entirely unwelcome, but it took a great deal of effort to muster a smile for him. “A few. I have to get ready for a couple meetings downtown.” An investor and pitch meeting respectively that you were a little under-prepared for, but it didn’t really matter. 

He came in and perched himself on the corner of your desk as you turned towards him. Reaching down, he took hold of your hands in his. “I was thinking about taking some time off. Call it an early Valentine’s vacation.” 

“Oh?” Smiling a little more easily up at him then. “Where are you going?” 

He shrugged. “I’m not particular. How about Fiji?” 

“I hear it’s nice. Do you want me to put you in for paid time off?” Teasing him, just a little. 

His small grin was worth it. “You, too, if you’d please. As long as the big boss thinks it’s okay.” 

“The big boss says…” Holding out the thought on a hum as you pretended to consider it. Was it wise to take off right now? Nothing needed your immediate attention. Your research was turning up nothing, and becoming more and more troublesome the more you dug and didn’t find what you were looking for… “...sure. Fiji. Why not.” 

He lifted both your hands to press a kiss to the backs of your fingers. “I’ll cook tonight. We can go in the morning.” 

“Oh.” Smile bright then. “Cooking, too? Must be a very special occasion. What are you making?” 

He pressed another grinning kiss to your hands before letting them go and moving to stand. “You’ll just have to come home and find out.” 

Leaning atop your desk, you let him get all the way to the door before you called out to him. “You say it like you expect I might not come back otherwise.” 

Raising his pointer finger in a little shake, “Always good to incentivize.” 

                                                       ----

Pepper came and got you when it was time to leave, and both she and Happy accompanied you in and out of your meetings. It was unfortunate that both meetings also ran unbearably long. The people within them wanted to give you every little facet of information possible, even when it was probably clear (rudely so) that your mind was elsewhere and you weren’t really interested. Nonetheless, you tried valiantly to put your best effort forward and take their folders and information when everything was said and done. 

You put in a call to Tony just as you’d left your last meeting of the day, letting him know that you were going to be home soon and, of course, you were sorry for being late. The sun had long since gone down and the city was unbearably cold, still. 

Even going from the warmth of the car to the warm lobby was terrible. And while your mind was on a million different things, especially as you half realized Happy and Pepper were both talking to you, passing by the main foyer on your way to the elevator, something caught your eye. Something… very terribly out of place. 

You left both your companions waiting for the elevator as you made a quick turn around to approach a child sitting, purposefully, as far away from the front desk as he could. He was wearing clothes that really were not suited for the freezing winter that was still holding over the city- just a small windbreaker and ripped jeans. Hat with some sports logo you didn’t recognize. Bulky backpack over on his shoulders. Head down, pretending to be engrossed in whatever game he was playing on a very obvious piece of beat up, perhaps well loved, Stark Tech. 

“Excuse me.” You called out to him, carefully, but he pointedly ignored you. Coming to a stop in front of him you tried again. “Hey- are you waiting for your parents? Are they upstairs?” Perhaps someone who worked was running late, same as you. 

He just shook his head, though, but didn’t look up at you still. 

No? “Are you lost? Did you get separated from a tour group or something?” Maybe he’d wandered into Stark Industries while his parents had their back turned. “Do you need me to call someone for you?” He mumbled out something and you leaned just a touch in. “Hello? Excuse me?” 

Heaving a terribly annoyed sigh, “I said no. Leave me alone.” 

Right now was not a good time for you to be interacting with a rude child. Your nerves were paper thin and you just really wanted to go upstairs and relax with Tony. But you couldn’t very well just walk away from this kid. “I’m afraid I can’t just leave you alone. You’re in my lobby, unattended.” 

“Your lobby-” Finally he lifted his head, reaching up to tilt the brim of his hat back to give himself more visibility. He had a dirty face, some wispy pieces of dirty-blond bangs hanging down from his hat, and blue eyes that widened just a touch when he leveled them your way. “Oh.” Realizing, finally, just who he might have been dealing with. “Good. Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” 

It was a little too much to ask of you to not make a face at him- which you promptly did. “Upstairs?” 

“Yeah. To like- you know. The place where you live- actually- I wanna see the labs first- see if it’s all it’s made up to be.” 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” When the kid just rolled his eyes at you and then turned his attention back to his game again- as if to say- I’m not talking to you anymore unless you do what I say- you decided to play this game for only a few seconds longer. Although… you did catch a bare hint of hurt rolling off him. “LUNA.” Turning away from him, you crossed one arm and pressed your earring to activate your visor with your other hand. Catching his now very interested gaze, at least until he got caught and looked down again, “Scan and identify please.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“How’d he make that?” Looking up again at you briefly, brows raised. 

“Nanotech.” 

“But how?” 

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask him.” 

The kid scoffed with another roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. “Psh. Figures.” 

Before you could reach down to yank him up by the strap of his backpack and throw him security’s way, LUNA spoke up. “That’s Harley Keener, ma’am.” A short profile window popped up. Twelve years old. Last known address somewhere in Rose Hill, Tennessee. 

The fight (that you would have had with a child) escaped you as you looked at him again. “You’re Harley- the kid that helped Tony in Rose Hill.” Saying it just a little in disbelief, as much as you were also parroting the information to let him know you now knew who he was. 

“I did more than help.”Proud. 

“Oh?” 

“I saved his life. Bet you didn’t know that.” Staring you down, now. Now a little insulted. 

“I didn’t.” Truthful with him. Tony hadn’t really talked a lot about what had happened while he’d been stuck there. Mostly because it had been shadowed in his mind by the importance of you being kidnapped and exploding. But… maybe you should have asked him about it… He served you with yet another eye roll and you tried to ignore it. “What are you doing here? Your parents know you’re here?” 

He looked very upset very suddenly. “I’m basically thirteen, I can go wherever I want.” 

So that was a no. “You ran away from home?” 

“Who cares.” Dropping his eyes again to press very hard at the buttons on his game. 

You tried to hold yourself very steady. “I care, Harley. Tennessee is a long way from New York-”

“It’s not even halfway across the country.” Making a face at you that very much implied he thought you were extremely stupid. 

“-for a child to travel, so if you ran away, they’re probably looking for you-”

“What do you know? Why don’t you mind your own business. Don’t you have papers to file or something? I don’t need you babysitting me. Leave me alone. Go away.” 

That was twice now, that this child had insinuated you were beneath Tony’s level. You wondered what he really thought of you. But- that’s what he was. A child. So you had to remind yourself not to give in to him. He’d run away from home, for who knew what reason- probably not a good one- and had come a long way seeking maybe the only friendly face he thought he could count on-

Harley looked up. “You just gonna stand there all night with your mouth open?” 

Forcing a very tight smile at him, you quickly turned away, holding a hand up to stop Happy who was lifting his shoulders at you, still waiting at the elevators. “LUNA call Tony, please.” 

The call connected in just a second, and his live feed popped up in your visor. “What’s up, honey? Traffic that bad? You could always just meet me on the deck-” 

“I need you to come down to the lobby. Now. We have a situation.” 

He looked a little unnerved. “...what kind of situation? Is this an Iron Man is needed in the lobby type situation? JARVIS hasn’t reported anything-” 

“No. This is a Tony Stark is needed in the lobby situation. Now.” 

Knowing better than to argue, “Coming, honey.” 

You kept a smart distance between yourself and Harley- he seemed uninterested, anyway, still playing his game- while you waited for Tony. It took him only a minute to get downstairs. A relief, really. But as he came out of the elevator with his hands raised in question, you went over to him, settling a hand on his chest and aiming only the sweetest of smiles up his way. “I realize now- in our five year talk the other night- we never discussed children.” 

He paled a little, arching one brow. “Children?” 

Pressing your lips together in a tight smile, you patted his chest. “I don’t think I want any.” Leaning up to press a little kiss to the corner of his mouth and then getting out of his way. You sensed he was looking at you as you walked away from him and into the elevator. 

But as you waved to him, and he waved back, the doors starting to close as he turned. And you heard his very surprised call. “Kid!” Happy to see him, maybe. Didn’t matter. Harley was waiting for Tony, so he could have him. Clearly you were not involved. 

                                                      ----

Upstairs you took a long series of deep breaths to settle yourself, slipped out of your heels, and dropped into a kitchen chair, eyeing the dinner Tony had made. Some kind of glazed chicken and sauteed veggies with rice- he’d really been stepping up his chef game lately, something you appreciated. Far more than just a breakfast man. A bottle of expensive wine was chilling in a bucket, glasses aside it. 

Waiting. Waiting for the both of you. This was supposed to be a nice meal the two of you shared together. You were supposed to be enjoying your time with him. And now… now instead you were pouring yourself a glass to drink by your lonesome while you wondered what on earth Tony was going to do with that kid in the lobby. 

The proper thing to do would be to call his parents. Tell them to come get him- or, more likely in the event that they couldn’t, put him on a jet with Happy and send him home. But… seeing as Tony didn’t return after fifteen minutes, you guessed that was not what was happening. Which was worrisome. 

Maybe they were just catching up. It had been a little while since they’d seen each other, and while Tony never talked about him, you knew he’d been looking out for him from afar. At least in the way of sending him some money and some tech to fill out his garage. But you thought that had been a one-off thank you sort of thing- 

And what had Harley meant by I saved his life? Things had been pretty dicey, during that little misadventure. You’d known he’d been fighting off those terrible AIM agents that had had their genes altered. To think they’d gotten in a scrap so bad that Tony had nearly died? Or maybe the kid was exaggerating, as children tended to do. It was hard to say. 

What you knew was that the two of you were about to have a serious problem. Because you were a quarter into your third glass of wine, going over work emails, when Tony finally returned- an hour and a half later- and he was not alone. 

The excited harried footsteps of that young boy spilled out across the foyer. “This place is so cool!” You heard him throw his backpack on the floor somewhere. “Where’s my room?” 

“Guest bedroom is two doors down on the left- just- take it easy. You’re making scuff marks on my floor.” 

“Can we order pizza??” His voice trailed off and you heard a door open and then slam closed and then open again. No telling what the hell he was up to. Looking around, maybe? 

There was a soft air of hesitance, same as his movements as Tony came up behind you. Dinner had gone cold, you didn’t want to eat without him. As he finally stopped next to you, laying a hand on your shoulder, you aimed a deservedly foggy look up his way. Quickly deciding to lay down what little bit of law you could. “He can’t stay here, Tony.” 

“Look- I know- I agree- but-”

“No buts. We can’t just- we’re looking at a kidnapping charge, honestly. How did he even get here? Call Happy and get him to take him back-”

“Alright, honey- just, will you lower your voice? Please?” Nervous. 

But he was right. You took a breath. The kid was no doubt listening. He’d run away. Probably for a reason. Whether or not it was a good one, you didn’t want him to hear you and Tony arguing. In fact, after the way he’d treated you- what he seemed to think about you- that was the last position you wanted to be in. For him to think you and Tony weren’t a team. 

So you stood suddenly, Tony having to help you as you wobbled only a little, and you took his hand, leading him to the elevator. Quickly you got in. “JARVIS drop us half a floor and stop.” 

“Descending.” 

The perfect place to be alone. Once the two of you came to a stop, you crossed your arms feeling a chill creeping in and looked up at him. “I don’t know what happened to him but he needs to go home. Tomorrow.” 

“His home situation is… not ideal. Best I could get out of him was his dad came back and sold all the stuff I sent to junkers. Mom doesn’t want any part in it. Works for a living with two kids. Hard enough as it is.” 

Being open and candid and honest with you. ...it also put a wrench in your plans that Tony seemed pained for this kid. Sad for him. “Was his father gone for a long time?”

“Six years, last we spoke. So. ...again, not ideal.” 

You drew a breath and tried to let it out as evenly as you could. “...so what do you want to do about it? We can’t keep him, Tony. He’s missing school right now. And even if his parents are shitty, they’re bound to notice he’s gone eventually. And that’s not a story we need out there. That we’re harboring a child that isn’t ours.” 

“I know. Honey, I know.” Reaching up, he smoothed his hands up and down your arms. “I agree. On all accounts. I just… I need a little time to figure out what to do.” 

He wanted to help Harley. It was burning inside of him. The need to try and fix this. You caught a small ripple from him- ...he felt… responsible for some reason. “...okay, Tony. A little time.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Smiling at you then. “I work great under pressure. Should be able to knock this out in a couple of days.” 

Since the two of you were settled and agreed on this… you tried to get your brain to move. “I guess I can- we had a program on the docket. I can move it up. Stark Internships for gifted children- at least that way we can pretend he was invited or… something. And he can get school credit-” 

“See? This is why I love you.” He warmed very suddenly, drawing you further in. You laid your hands and face against his chest, just breathing him in. “Thank you.” 

“But- if he’s staying-” Craning your head back to look up at him. “He’d better watch that attitude of his.” 

“He can be a handful-” 

“I won’t tolerate him talking down to me.” 

“I’ll warn him.” 

“You better. He seems to think I’m stupid.” 

Tony grinned then. “Worst mistake a person can make.” 

You pursed your lips at him. “Yeah- well. He also seems to think I’m beneath you.” 

“Oh. Well he’s got it all wrong.” 

Sliding your hands up his chest to brush the sides of his neck, “You tell him that.” 

“I will. But- you know how kids are at that age- probably thinks you’re full of cooties.” Shifting half back, arm moving to hold you steady around the waist, he pressed the button to signal the elevator to go up to the top floor again. But, before the doors opened, he aimed a curious glance your way. “...you really don’t want kids?” 

“I- I cannot have that discussion right now. ...why? Do you?” Not sure what to make of that. Or what to think. The two of you had certainly never had a real conversation about it. And… to think Tony wanted a child? Was that right? Did he seem like the sort of person who would? ...maybe not before all of this. But now…? 

He hummed out a thought, leaning in, nose brushing yours. “No no. You have a fair point. Let’s table that discussion.” Retreating, quickly. 

It was a simple kiss he laid to your lips, but you wanted nothing but to melt into it. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him there. It would have been nice to go to bed after all this. But a very over dramatic sound of disgust greeted the two of you a few seconds after the door opened. “Eugh. Can you like- not do that in front of me? It’s basically child abuse.” Harley was sitting on the back of one of the nearby couches, swinging his feet- shoes still on- against the cushions. 

He seemed like an entirely different kid than the one you’d met in the lobby. Something about spending just a little bit of time with Tony had put some light into him. ...it was kind of sweet. 

“Get your feet off my couch.” Still. You had to take some charge here. 

He rolled his eyes, head lolling to the side. “He paid for everything, that makes it his.” 

Tony put his hands up. “Actually, kid, this whole Tower is hers. She designed it. Every room. And- between you and me- she’s kind of the boss around here.” 

He scoffed. “You’re lying.” 

You crossed your arms, waiting patiently. Seeing how this would get sorted. Tony went over to him. “I’m not. She’s the boss. Owns the company. ...you didn’t know that?” Grinning a little wryly at him. Baiting him. “Hey. It’s okay. We all make mistakes. By the way- even if it wasn’t true- I’d still side with her.” 

“Ugh.” Hanging his head back like he’d been dealt a terrible blow. Tony had picked his girlfriend over him? “Gross.”

 Tony simply smiled. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Stepping closer you hooked a thumb to the side. “Shoes off my couch. Now. ...and tell me what kind of pizza you want.” 

Harley looked at you, regarding you, perhaps thinking about what decision he should make. Wisely he pushed himself off the couch and stuck his hands in his pockets. A little shy suddenly. “I dunno.” 

Tony crossed his arms. “He wants anchovies.” 

Livening up again immediately, “I do not!” 

“Sure you do. You’re always telling me about your great love of little fish. I think it’s weird, but, hey, everyone’s got their thing.” Grinning at him again. Teasing him. 

Harley pushed him. “Stop it- I do not-!” Play-fighting with him as Tony laughed, holding him at bay. 

...maybe it was the wine talking but… For the first time since you’d been together the thought crossed your mind that… Tony might make a wonderful father. 

 ...some day.

[fvaleraye]

Old Debt

ayyyyyy, new Scintillam thing this one is... quite different, it is going to establish another protag to our story. there will be a couple more protags after this too asdlfkjn it also gives us the first hint of our main antagonist! noice :0 hope y’all enjoy reading-

The mountains of the northern edge of the continent were unforgiving, inhospitable. While many villages stood at the foot of the mountains, few dared ventured up the mountains themselves. Fewer still dared to make a home there. Not humans, at least. Unless they were very determined.

One such man seemingly had that determination required to climb.

A cloaked figure trekked through the serene mountaintop, his thick, black garb contrasting the snowy surroundings. Hooded eyes searched the horizon. He had little to go off of, only rumors. But he knew he had to be up here. There were few better places for a man who wanted to vanish from the world at large. And vanishing was always his quarry's forte. And tracking was his.

Eventually, a small wooden shack came into view. It was tucked away on a little cliff, around the edge of mountaintop, a quaint little porch barely shielded from the falling snow by a little overhang. You couldn't imagine anyone living there from looking at it, but it was clearly well cared for. And there was dim light in the window. There was most certainly someone home. And hopefully it would be who he was looking for. He stepped onto the porch, taking a second to appreciate the roof over his head, and the wood under his boots. Still outside in the snow, but better than having to trudge around in it. He stomped towards the door with purpose, and gave it a small knock. It was a very small house. He wouldn't have to knock very hard unless the occupant was asleep. There was silence. Then there was the quiet creaking of wood. Slow, hesitant, but deliberate footsteps sounded from the other side of the door. A click, and a creak, as the door slid open. A man stood in the doorway. Tall, but lean. Athletic. Graying hair tied back in a ponytail, a sizable beard on his face, and slight wrinkles, typical of age. Or a very stressful life. He wasn't dressed very warmly, wearing simply a black short-sleeved shirt and baggy pants. He probably had some sort of enchantments to make the interior of the house warmer. Or it was simply insulated much better than it looked. The man grimaced, though whether it was because of the cold or the one standing in front of him wasn't obvious. He slowly looked over the cloaked man in front of him. He was clearly not used to visitors, if his expression was anything to go by.

"... what do you want." He said slowly, simply, deliberately, though he phrased it more like a demand than a question, his low, aged growl of a voice rumbling off of the wood and stone.

The stranger let the question sit for a moment, tilting his head under his hood. "Oh c'mon, Sam..." He replied, his voice smooth and eccentric. "You don't remember me?" He raised his hands, and slowly slide the hood off to reveal his face. The hermit's expression turned to shock, then confusion, then anger, all in the same moment. The traveler's was simply one of smug confidence.

He tried to slam the door, but it was quickly caught. He glared at the visitor, his barely contained rage making it clear that he was not wanted in his home. "Snake."

"Charmer as always, I see..." He let out a sigh, and attempted to step into the shack, only to be shoved back onto the porch, the other coming out to join him.

"You are not welcome here."

"Oh, really? Here I thought I had walked into a bed and breakfast, the hospitality was so great..."

"Leave my home, snake."

"Snake snake snake, snake this, snake that- that's not my name you know! You'd think you would be a little nicer to your brother, Sam." He gave sly smirk, clearly delighting in the other's frustration.

"My brother no more." He shot back, clenching his fist.

"Oh, you wound me, Sammy boy..." He clutched his chest and gasped. "What happened to the good ol' days?"

"They are gone. As you will soon be gone from my porch." He reached a hand up to the other's shoulder, and promptly shoved him off of the porch and into the snow. He turned to walk back into the house.

"I-! How d-! Get back here, Samuel!" He scrambled to get up, dusting the snow off of his cloak and dashing back up the steps. "I did not climb up this Wyrm forsaken mountain just to have you kick me out!"

"Do not speak your dead god's name in my home, Ignis." He shot a glare over his shoulder, causing him to stop in his tracks. He turned, and strode up to him, glaring down at the shorter man. "If you dislike this mountain so much, I would be happy to throw you off of it."

"Since when are you happy about anything..." He mumbled, letting a sigh, and attempting to assert his own stance. "Just hear me out."

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Just listen to me-!"

"Why. So you may spit your lies and venom, as you always have? So you may deceive me again, little brother?"

Ignis' expression turned exasperated, and he let out a groan. "Oh my gods, are you still on about that? That was years ago!"

Without another word, Samuel's fist suddenly collided with the unwanted visitors stomach, and he crumpled to the ground, coughing and gagging. "G-gods sakes, S-Sam-"

He grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him to his feet, and then off of them, holding him at eye level. "Leave my home." He growled, before throwing him back to the ground with a harsh thud.

"Gods d-damn it Sam- what happened to the days you would die for me?!" He cried, grasping his stomach.

"Those times are gone. There is no point in dying for a dead man, and you are already dead to me." He replied, his tone as cold and unforgiving as the mountaintop that surrounded the two of them.

Rage and frustration contorted the traveler's face, before he took a deep breath, and got back to his feet, his expression now more neutral. "You owe me, Sam."

"I owe you nothing, snake."

"Yes you do! I am the leader of the order-!"

"I belong to the order no longer."

"-but you still owe me your life!"

The hermit grimaced again, and it quickly became a snarl.

"Your honor- the warrior's honor- demands that you repay me! And I am calling in that favor, here and now, Sammy boy!" He began to look smug again, which did nothing for the other's frustration.

"And you expect me to put my honor before my reason." He huffed. "Go eat your tail, snake." He turned, and walked back into the house, slamming the door behind him, the force prompting snow to fall off the roof.

Ignis just stood there flabbergasted. "... did he just tell me to go fuck myself-?" He wondered allowed, before shaking his head and banging his arm against the door. "Open up, Sam!" Silence settled as he waited for a response. He pounded on the door again. "Open the door!" He grabbed the doorknob, shaking the door for a moment before slamming his fist against it again. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU OLD BASTARD!" He briefly paced angrily on the porch, before kicking the door open, the cold wind blowing into the small shack.

Samuel was simply sat on the floor, on a rug, glaring daggers into his brother.

"I want you to listen to me, you old fuck." He snarled, stomping over to his brother's side. "I am turning to you, in my time of need, because I need your help. Not anyone else’s! Is that not enough?! Do you really need me to say it?! I'll say it, okay?! You're better than me, always have been, okay?! Are you happy?! Will you listen to me now?!"

The words sat for a moment, the hermit's expression unchanging, unreadable. "If you honestly think that is the only reason why I will not listen to what you have to say, then you are even denser than I thought."

"Listen to me-!"

"No." He yelled, springing to his feet. "You listen." He placed a hand on the other's chest, gripping his shirt. "I trusted you. I loved you, you were my baby brother. I promised mother I would always protect you, and you..." His face contorted into a snarl, his other hand gripping him so that he could pick him off his feet. "You killed them. Not by your own hand, but through your actions. The information you let slip. The information I trusted you with. Maria, Sol, my wife and my only remaining son, their families, friends, and for what? Money?! POWER?! JEALOUSY?!" He threw him to ground with a scream, and put his foot firmly on his chest. "YOU ARE A SNAKE, A VILE, VENOMOUS SNAKE, AND I WILL NOT BE THE FOOLISH FARMER AGAIN!"

"WHAT ABOUT YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER, YOU CRAZY FUCK?!"

Silence settled over the room again, only the cold wind against wood breaking it. After a moment, Samuel took his foot from Ignis, and picked him up by his shirt, lifting him far above his head. "Explain. Before I pop your head from your shoulders, and feed you to the mountain wolves."

"She's in danger." He wheezed, his face still coated in anger and frustration with his brother's behavior. "She may not know it, but she's in... way over her head. She's looking for something, and if she finds it, she will die."

"Why would you tell me this? Why should I believe you, more importantly?"

He stayed silent for a moment, glaring, and opening and closing his mouth as if he was going to say something for a moment, but nothing came out at first.

He tightened his grip. "Why. Should. I. Believe. You."

"B-b-be-because if she f-finds what she's looking for, we're all gonna fucking die! Okay?!" He gasped, desperately clawing at the other's hands. "She's looking for the House of the Black Serpent, and if she finds them, they're gonna go fucking ballistic-!"

"... House of the Black Serpent..." He parroted, his expression turning to one of deep concern. He considered his words for a moment, and then tossed him to the floor again, prompting him to cough and wheeze. "Why would you tell me this? Are you not a member of this house?"

"A-are you c-crazy?" He gagged, weakly trying to pull himself to his feet. "These people are a draconic apocalypse cult, I'm not that fucked in the head..."

Silence hung over the room again. He was telling the truth. Samuel knew it. A liar and a snake he was, but he would spit out the truth if his life was at stake. And it most certainly was. He stepped out of the room without another room, and into a back room of the house. It was empty. Save for a large sword, and a set of warrior armor that seemed more ceremonial than anything else. He picked up the mask, and looked into its stoic, unfeeling expression. "... I can't believe I'm doing this." He mumbled, giving a deep sigh, before letting his expression soften to one of worry. "... but, if she's really in trouble..."

After a few minutes, he stepped out of the room again, dressed in his old apparel. A set of spiked shoulder-guards, clawed gauntlets, and a gray mask, designed to be similar to the face of a wraith, but no other real armor. Simply the shirt and pants he was wearing before. In his hand, a black claymore. He stared his brother, who only just not found the strength to get to his feet. "If you are lying to me, again." He started, his voice sounding deeper, and more menacing under the wooden visage. "I will kill you. In the most. Painful way possible."

"I know." Ignis replied, coldly. "Now, just... be on your way." He sighed, stepping out the door. He stopped, and glanced over his shoulder for a moment."And make haste, brother."

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

A Night At The Opera- Chapter 4

Fandom: Queen/Borhap

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Brian May x reader/ John Deacon x reader

TW: Brian being possessive of what’s not his(AGAIN), blood, brian wants the readers blood lmao, managers being dicks, language, the managers are also pervs and everyone seems to hate (Y/N) I stg, vomit, blood, angry brian, murder, betrayal ig?

Genre: Horror ig?? ( based on phantom Of the opera)

Series: A Night At The Opera

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Oof this chapter is BEEFY. Hope you guys enjoy!

(Y/N) sat in the darkness, chest heaving with every second that she spent there. The darkness had been something that she loved, something that she thrived in. Now, since he'd come into her life, she was terrified of it. Never wanting to spend more than a few seconds inside of it. A soft voice sang distantly and (Y/N)'s hair rose on the back of her neck, eyes darting to the full-length mirror. The girl instantly shot up, sprinting to the door and jiggling the door handle. It was locked. Or blocked from the outside.

"And where do you think you're going?" Brian's voice was gentle, but held a slight venom to it, making her freeze, hand instantly letting go of the door handle as if it had scorched her.

"I just- just have to go talk to Deaky,"  (Y/N) stammered anxiously, her fingers clutching the stem of the rose that had remained in her hand. Brian's dark eyes flitted down to the rose and a smile grew on his face, but it promptly transformed back into a frown at the mention of Deaky. One of the barriers between their love. Deaky didn't deserve her affection. The only person that deserved it, deserved her, was him.

"No, you don't. You don't need to talk to that insolent boy. He only tries to bask in your glory. This brave, young suitor, sharing in my triumph," Brian's words were cold and sarcastic, and he made his distaste, his hatred, for Deaky as definite as anyone could do. (Y/N)'s eyes flashed in alarm, as she took a step back, only to have her back pressed to the door. She didn't see anything but Brian could see the way her eyes flared and fear started to seep in.

"He doesn't- ow! Shit!" She cursed, feeling a small prickle of pain in her middle finger. Looking down, (Y/N) saw a thorn on the rose, covered in a bit of blood. Her blood. There was a small trickle of blood, leaking from her middle finger and she brought it up to inspect it. But Brian couldn't tear his eyes away from it. The smell of her blood made his eyes swirl and glow red, darting around frantically. Her blood smelt astounding. He had to have her...

No! No! What was he thinking? He couldn't hurt her. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't let herself. While (Y/N) eyed the tiny wound, Brian allowed himself to tread backwards, slipping back into the gap he had hidden behind the mirror, and taking off. The girl hadn't even noticed he'd left, as what had taken forever for him, had taken the blink of an eye for her. (Y/N) glanced up from her bloodied finger and did a double-take upon seeing nothing but an empty room.  Was she imagining things again? Had she been talking to herself? What the actual fuck was going on?

"Boys, (Y/N)," Lucille quietly stated, pulling from the group from their conversation "I would like to introduce you to Mr Goldbrooke and Dr Addams. They are the new managers of the theatre," It was then that they noticed the two men stood behind Lucille. The first man stood tall, hands folded behind his back. His lips were pulled back into a thin line, beady black eyes peering over a hooked nose. He had a beard growing on his face, making him look slightly burlier than he was, and long, slightly greasy, hair flowed over his shoulders.

The second man was older, if not he had under gone a lot of stress in his time, judging by his grey, almost white hair. It was clipped short, making his ears protrude quite largely. Wrinkles were embedded deep into his pale skin. His face was fairly thin and his piercing blue eyes, hidden beneath fairly thick white eyebrows, seemed to stare into the groups souls. The clothes he wore were pristine, not a crease or mark in sight.

Casually, Mr Goldbrooke and Dr Addams stepped forwards, extending a hand each and the band shook their hands, one by one, albeit quite warily. Freddie gave them both a rosy smile, Roger a small scowl,  Deaky a small nod of acknowledgement, (Y/N) an unconvincing look of merriment and Adam, well, no one had ever seen Adam grin so wide.  His eyes were bright and excitable, gawking at them in astonishment. However, when these two men shook hands with (Y/N), they exchanged a look that was a little too perverted for her liking. She wore only a black tank top, to prevent her from getting too while sorting the stage and lighting, and some black leggings, but she practically felt exposed under their gazes. It was a painfully awkward situation and she desired nothing more than to get back to her work. Deaky felt his blood boiling, his skin writhing as the two managers got closer to his girlfriend

"And what is your name, young lady?" Dr Addams asked, sky blue eyes ogling at her, leaning down so he was barely an inch away from her face. The girl took a step back, a forced laugh pushing past her lips.

"(Y/N) (L/N)," She answered shortly, narrowing her eyes, daring him to continue acting the way he was. Deaky swiftly sidestepped to her and wrapped a secure arm around her waist.

"Our techie, roadie and my girlfriend," Deaky added, putting as much emphasis on the girlfriend as possible. Mr Goldbrooke smirked at the younger man's possessiveness and too got closer to the pair. Roger felt himself bristle and damn near punched both of them in the face.

"If you ever tire of him, dear, you know where to find us," Goldbrooke chuckled but before Roger's head could blow, Lucille positioned herself between the new managers and the band.

"I have a letter for you sirs, you too, boys," Lucille passed an envelope to each person, watching as the bands eyes all furrowed in confusion.

"A letter?" Adam questioned.

"Who from, darling?" Freddie pushed

"I didn't even know we could receive letters here," Roger mumbled, glancing at Deaky and (Y/N), who only shrugged, just as confused. However, Dr Addams and Mr Goldbrooke only let out small scoffs before Dr Addams ripped the envelope open, paying no mind to the intricate wax seal.

"I would like to welcome you gentlemen to my opera house. I trust that Lucille has made you well acquainted with the band that is performing here for the coming months, Queen. They are an exceptional talent. The opera house is an important factor in this city and I want you to take care of it as well as I have. I would like to remind you, nevertheless, that your payment is due. Leave £4,000 on the counter of Mr Freddie Mercury's dressing room. I also command that box five is to be left empty. See to it that these demands are followed or there will be dire consequences. - B.M- Opera ghost" The doctor read, flabberghasted. Mr Goldbrooke snatched the paper from his hands, ignoring the prying eyes of the band stood in front of him.

"£4,000?!" Mr Goldbrooke parroted, eyes wide, a look of bewilderment planted in them.

"The old manager used to pay £12,000 per month if they think that is too much," Lucille muttered to (Y/N), causing the girl to giggle, thumb running over the wax seal of the letter in her hand. The giggle didn't get past the two managers, who's sharp eyes shot to her.

"Go on, girl! What does yours say?" Mr Goldbrooke commanded, a snicker rising from Adam. Freddie immediately placed himself in front of her, glaring at the two men who towered over him slightly.

"Her name is (Y/N)," Freddie hissed protectively, nearly baring his teeth in anger. (Y/N) took Freddie's hand, tugging him back gently. It wasn't worth the fight. They needed these performances. Hesitantly, she looked down at the envelope, the word ' Queen' written in cursive, before turning it over. The red wax that was pressed onto the parchment was in the form of a skull, and she nearly felt her blood run cold. Her hands began to tremble but, nevertheless, she cracked open the envelope and drew the letter out.

"Your performance featuring Miss (L/N) was, in a word, stupendous. She is a vast improvement from the fool you call Adam. He is a snivelling cockroach who can't tell his E string from his B string. (Y/N) has an immense talent that you can no longer ignore, and I would like all of your performances from this day forth to feature her, rather than that mule. Should these actions not be followed, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur- B.M- Opera Ghost," She announced out loud, her words growing more clustered and slightly panicked. Roger set his hand on her shoulder, concern rising in his body; Deaky's arm tightened around her waist, feeling goosebumps rising on her flesh and Freddie clutched onto her hand tightly, squeezing it slightly.

"Are you alright, lovie?" Deaky asked softly, his lips making contact with her temple as they moved.  (Y/N) nodded slightly but it wasn't convincing. Adam's glare seared into her back, his face growing redder with rage, while the two managers watched the group cooing over the girl, a look of slight disgust on their faces.

"(Y/N) can't take my place! She won’t take my place! I earned this job! Besides she can't even play! She fumbles with the strings and doesn't know how to play a proper riff!" Adam exploded, arms folded tightly over his chest, pouting like a toddler.

"Is that why we have a full house tonight? Her playing sold more tickets last night than yours has ever done. And, unlike you, (Y/N) can hit the fucking notes!" Roger snapped instantly, taking a defensive stance and removing his hand from (Y/N)'s shoulder.

"As amusing as this is, I believe this young man here. Adam, is it?" Mr Goldbrooke interrupted, brushing past Roger carelessly. Adam nodded immediately.

"Adam Johnson, sir," He replied. God, what a suck-up.

"But (Y/N) is a much better performer than Adam will ever be! People don't cringe when they hear her play, for one," Deaky continued, remembering their first performance. A few people had left that first night, due to Adams lacklustre playing.

"Mr Deacon, maybe you should be thinking about this situation with your brain rather than what's between your legs," Dr Addams remarked and (Y/N)  ruffled, steam nearly rolling out of her ears. But as she went to approach the man, to give him a piece of her mind, she was yanked back.

"With all due respect, doctor, sir, the Opera Ghost has stated that he wants her to play. I have seen many disasters happen because people haven't followed his instructions. The opera ghost sees, the opera ghost knows," Lucille commented calmly, attempting to remedy the heated situation.

"For god's sake! Can't you all see that this is some sick joke! There is no opera ghost here! We will not be paying £4,000, we won't leave box five empty and Mr Johnson will most definitely be playing instead of Miss (L/N)," Dr Addams shouted, causing every to quieten down.

"Oh and (Y/N), I'm afraid you're being demoted. You see, we've hired our own tech group, so you need not do anything," Mr Goldbrooke smirked slightly but that smirk didn't remain for long as Freddie waltzed right up to the man, standing so close that he could feel Mr Goldbrooke's disgusting breath on his face.

"Who do you think you are, firing my staff?" Freddie growled lowly, so quiet that it almost seemed as if he hadn't said anything at all. Roger and Deaky's eyebrows raised in surprise at Freddie's outburst.

"I'm the manager here. I can stop you performing here altogether if I don't like what I see," Mr Goldbrooke replied, before glancing at the Doctor and the pair took their leave. Deaky let out a long sigh, Freddie rolled his eyes and Roger decided it was a bright idea to punch the wall beside him. Spontaneously, he let out a loud curse and pulled his hand back, to reveal his knuckles starting to grow bloody.

"For goodness sakes, Rog. Come on, let me patch you up," (Y/N) murmured, starting to head to the bathroom to grab the first-aid set. Everyone, minus Adam, who still held a sour look on his face, shared a look. Something wasn't right. She hadn't been acting right since she read that letter. Freddie took the note from Lucille, reading it over himself. Why had this ghost sent this? Something told him that the band's success wasn't where this opera ghosts interests lay. It was all to do with her. Why was he obssessed with her? What did he want with her?

(Y/N) was busy cleaning the stage of some of the rubbish that had been dropped on stage the day before and that afternoon. She could hear the tinkering and chattering of a few techies up in the scaffolding as she brushed the rubbish to the side to scoop up in a trash bag later. Faintly, a squeal of excitement sounded from backstage, which (Y/N) could only guess was Adam's girlfriend Freya. Adam hadn't shut the fuck up about her and how hot she was since Mr Goldbrooke and Dr Addams had gone off to who knows where.She continued to brush dust and rubbish off stage before placing the brush down and tucking a few wires away. (Y/N) checked the number of spare drumsticks behind Rog's drumset, before taking a wipe and starting to rub off the sticky mess the bear had left behind. Sat on the floor, (Y/N) pushed her hair back before getting to work. After a few minutes, heels clacking on the stage brought the girl back to reality. Freya sat herself down on the stool behind the drumset as (Y/N) scrubbed, not paying Adam's girlfriend any mind.

 "Wow, Adam was right. You are a rude bitch," Freya's pitchy voice commented, making (Y/N)'s eyes snap up to her. She had silky, straight, auburn locks, positioned perfectly in a half-up half-down hairdo.  There was a thick layer of makeup plastered on her tanned skin, making her look very barbie-gone-wrong. Her shirt barely hid her boobs and her skirt was halfway up her butt, showing off more skin than deemed appropriate in public, and those shoes could NOT be comfortable to walk in.

"Sorry, trying to work, if you haven't noticed," (Y/N) sneered back, eyes falling back to the work ahead of her

. "Y'know, I heard about last night. You're trying to steal my boyfriend's job, but it's not going to work. He has more talent in his finger than you do in your entire body. So when Queen get famous because of him, you're just going to be lingering behind. A sad little roadie pushed away from the limelight," Freya said, blowing a piece of gum that (Y/N) hadn't even noticed that she had in her mouth. A small smile of disbelief rose to her lips.

"Right to the chase, huh? I can see Adam only chooses women as pleasant as he is," (Y/N) replied, throwing the dirtied wipe to the side and reaching for another once. But before she could reach the packet, Freya caught onto her wrist, wrenching her forward so that she nearly hit her head on one of the drums.

 "Just stay away from my boyfriend. He's on a walk straight to fame but you keep getting in the way. Just fuck off, alright?" Freya released her wrist and (Y/N) chuckled slightly

. "Alright, I got it, princess. I got to get back to work if you'll excuse me," (Y/N) shot back sharply, giving her a pointed look and soon enough, Freya stood up and walked back to the backstage area.

"Are we ready boys?" Roger asked as he bounced on the spot, shaking out his wrists. Freddie was busy taking a long sip of water, before throwing back a shot of vodka, while Deaky checked that his bass was properly tuned. But both boys hummed in agreement. Adam, however, was too busy sucking Freya's face off, nearly catching one of the strings of his guitar on Freya's massive bracelet.

"Ready, my love?" Deaky turned to (Y/N), who was occupied on running over a control centre that had possession over the lights on stage. The new techies had fitted it in earlier and showed her how to use it before fucking off, leaving one guy up in the scaffolding. The guy they'd left in the scaffolding was a massive dick, who barely cared about his job but rather taking preference to ogle the girls and drinking any booze he could find. Mr Goldbrooke and Dr Addams were sat in box five and Adam was set to play on stage.

 Neither of those things helped ease (Y/N)'s anxiety about the letter the group had received earlier. Something terrible was going to happen. She could feel it in her gut. She tried to push it aside as paranoia, but the feeling kept returning. Haunting her. (Y/N) knew that Brian would do anything to get his way.  The two scabs on Adam's neck reminded her of that every time she looked over at him. The fresh rose on the table in Deaky's dressing room taunted her. It'd appeared earlier while the band were taking a break. (Y/N) had gone to grab one of her boyfriend's hoodie's only to find a new red rose on the table, tied with that same silk black bow.

Then the moment she dreaded came. The boys ran on stage, and Deaky's low, rhythmic bass started, followed by Roger's immaculate drumming, Freddie's perfect pitch. And Adam's artificial playing. (Y/N) winced as she adjusted the lighting, changing the colour from green to a red colour. Freya seemed to get as close to her as possible, while still watching her talentless boyfriend play. It was forty-five minutes into the show before anything happened. With each minute that passed (Y/N) could both feel her heart in her throat and her body calming. 

Until there was a loud crash on stage and all the music came to a jolting halt. Upon the impact, there were a few screams and a few gasps as a light landed a few yards from Adam's body. Suddenly, just as everyone was beginning to calm down, and as (Y/N) ran on stage to remove the shattered light, a booming voice called out

."Didn't I strictly instruct that box five was to be left empty."A few more murmurs resonated through the crowd and just past the chandelier (Y/N) could see a dark body, an insane mass of hair and a white surgical mask. In the corner of her eye, she could spy the techie in the scaffolding running between lights to check their security.

"He's here. The Opera ghost," (Y/N) stated out loud but Adam lightly smacked her with his guitar, turning to make it seem like an accident

."You're supposed to be silent, little toad," He hissed. (Y/N) only gave a fearful exhale before she pulled the broken light off stage, carefully lifting it and placing as much as she could on the table. Deaky glared furiously at Adam. How dare he?  Up in the hidden ceiling compartment, Brian watched the interaction between his beloved and that awful creature, finding himself mumbling

"A toad, sir? I think you'll find it's you, who are the toad."

After a few minutes of calming the audience down, Roger counted the group back in, though they all looked anxious to get off the stage, especially Deaky, who wanted nothing more than to run to (Y/N) and just cuddle with her for the rest of eternity. The music continued, and everyone seemed to think that it would be the end of their troubles.

If only.

Freya watched curiously when she saw the techie in the scaffolding running around again, except this time, he looked terrified out of his mind. Thinking nothing of it, she brushed it off as worry for any more falling lights and looked back down to the performers on stage. She wished that was all it had been. (Y/N) was too distracted with the lighting to notice the commotion happening in the scaffolding.

 Because not even five minutes later there was an even louder thud and a blood-curdling scream broke through the air. (Y/N)'s head snapped to the stage and a hand shot to her mouth, a gasp catching in her throat. She thought she was going to be sick. The music on stage stopped once again but this time, there was the sound of scrabbling and yelling come from the audience. Freya sprinted off the bathroom, tears streaming down her cheeks. Because there lay the techie in the middle of the stage, eyes wide, frozen in fear, skin white as snow, veins protruding oddly, body limp and lifeless.

And two bloody bite marks on his neck.

 (Y/N) raced on stage, yanked Deaky's bass off his body, gripped his hand and sprinted off, dragging him behind her. She ventured up some steep, winding stairs, her fingers clutching onto his, before shoving on a door at the top, revealing the roof of the opera house. A deep breath filled her lungs with freezing air. A bitingly cold December night.  She hadn't even noticed that she'd picked up the rose on her way out.

 "Why have you brought me here? We need to return" Deaky asked gently, running a light hand across her cheek.

"We can't go back there! He'll kill you! His eyes will find us there!" (Y/N) ranted, nervous eyes flitting around, her body involuntarily beginning to pace in circles

"Don't say that. Don't even think it," Deaky said, trying to calm down his hysterical girlfriend, who was so close to tears, holding the rose close to her chest.

"Those eyes that burn. And if he has to kill a thousand people, the opera ghost will kill and kill again," (Y/N) whimpered, tears building up in her eyes, about to break at any moment.

"There is no opera ghost, love. It was just a freak accident. We'll figure out what happened," He sighed, reaching out to touch her arm but she stepped back in fright.

"John, I've seen him! Can I ever forget that sight? Those kind eyes, that crazy hair, the jagged teeth, the broken mouth. In the darkness..." There was a pregnant pause, where (Y/N) glanced over the edge of the building, noticing the people flocking from the building "But his playing filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound. And I began to sour. Higher and better than I ever have in my life."

"What you saw was a dream. A nightmare. Nothing more," Deaky reassured but she kept shaking her head, hair falling out of the ponytail she had place it in.

"But in his eyes, all the sadness in the world. Like he'd lived a hundred lives that he couldn't escape. Seen all the wars the world has ever faced. Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore," If there hadn't just been an extremely traumatic event, Deaky probably would've believed her. But she'd just experienced one of the worst things possible. Looking for someone to blame.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), calm down, darling,"

"(Y/N)..." A ghostly voice called out, and (Y/N) could swear on her life that it was Brian, and she tensed, freezing on the spot. Deaky's arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the cold.

"No more talk of darkness. I'm here. Nothing will harm you," He promised, pressing his lips to her forehead soothingly. His touch was so gentle and sweet, she wanted to believe that he could hide her from the darkness of the world. From Brian. And maybe she could. Maybe she could elt herself believe it. Just this once.

"Turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always. That's all I ask of you. Please, Deaky," Their noses pressed together and slowly, very slowly, the rose fell from between her fingers and to the frosted floor.

"Anywhere you go, let me go too. I can protect you You just need to believe me. (Y/N), I love you," Deaky connected their lips together tenderly, to which (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his hair. Reluctantly the pair broke away, knowing they'd have to face the music.

"I believe you. And I love you too. Now come, they'll wonder where we are," With a reassuring smile, the couples' hands reconnected, and they made their way back into the opera house, leaving the rose abandoned on the rooftop.

And in their moment, they'd failed to notice the opera ghost himself, crouched behind one of the gargoyles on the roof, listening to them intently, his heart breaking and tearing at the declaration of their love. When he was sure that they were gone, Brian stood up and wandered over to the rose, picking it up and holding it tightly to him.

"I gave you my music. I made you soar. And now, how you've repaid me, denied me and betrayed me," His tears fell onto the crimson petals, but his sorrow turned to hatred when his over-sensitive hearing picked up on the exchanged words of love between (Y/N) and Deaky on their descent of the the staircase. With each word, his grip tightened on the rose until the mangled petals fell to the floor, and he threw the stem down, tearing off his cape angrily.

"You will CURSE the day you didn't do everything that the opera ghost asked of YOU!"

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @queendeakyy@scarlettequinn @stephydearestxo @likesomekindofcheese​ @mirkwoodshewolf​ @pirateprincess99​

Tags:  @writingfortoomanyfandoms @metaphorical-love-for-a-car@queens-n-roses @freaky-dcaky@yourealegendfred@fierce-bab@dusthas-beenbitten   @bensroger@strangeandwonderfulconcepts@babebenhardy@benhardyjones @silvver-rose @psychosupernatural

[littlepinkneko]

Welcome to the Purple Rose (DMC AU)

The sun had long set over Redgrave City, many shops were closing and locking up for the long night ahead. People still roamed around to visit any shops before visiting or just to enjoy the cool summer night. Street lights were turning on and lights of shops turned off, signaling to customers that they were now closed.

All except for one.

A child appearing to be ten years of age, with short pitch black hair and violet/blue eyes stepped out of a small shop. The walls covered in rose vines,and in full bloom. The roses a pale color of lilac and all looking healthy, as they were very well taken care of by the shop keeper and her children.

“Gabriel you forgot the sign again!” a voice called out as another boy stepped out, dragging a large sign behind him to set on the corner. He looked identical except for having a mowhawk cut and bigger a little bigger than the other sibling. The first boy that stepped out jumped a little and scurried back to help with the sign but he brushed the other off and set the sign up itself.

The sign itself bore an insignia of the shop’s logo, popping out of the chalk board background. a skeletal hand holding a fully bloomed purple rose with the moon full behind it. The words all written in beautiful cursive writing and indicating what the shop was called.

The Purple Rose: medicinal herds, crystals and magiks.

“I’m sorry Connor, I just got a little to excited, we never been in the city!” Gabriel with an apologetic tone and flinched under his brother’s glare holding his chin up and adverting his gaze from Gabriel back into the shop.

“Just don’t let it be a habit, Justin and me can’t baby you ALL the time you know.” Connor huffed heading back inside the shop. Gabriel couldn’t help but glare at his brother’s back before heading back inside The shop luminated by orb shaped laterns of different soft colors of yellows, whites, and lilacs. The walls nearly covered by shelves of dried plants, grounded nearly into powders into glass jars so customers could see and look inside. Some plants were questionable to the human eye,  a selected few locked inside a glass cabinet and looked from something that didn’t belong in the world.

High up on a ladder was the oldest and final brother of the triplet trio. Placing the last of the jars on the final shelves to make the shop look pleasing to his eyes. All the jars evenly spaced and in a perfect position for a quick scoop for the contents inside.

“You guys get the sign out?” Justin called down at his siblings, turning half way around to look at them from the ladder. Connor through up his hands, exasperated  and rolled his eyes in annoyance even more.

“WHY YES OH GREAT JUSTIN! WE HAVE PLACED THE SIGN OUTSIDE! Jeez we’re not dumb..I mean at least I’m not.” Connor scoffed giving Gabriel a sideways glance. Gabriels opened his mouth to shoot back at his brother was stopped when the shopkeeper walked out behind a veil of beads.

A woman with long brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail stopped and looked around the shop, her left eye covered with an eyepatch bearing a pentagram on the cloth. The right eye sharing the color of a bright green, abnormal color for a human even but not totally uncommon. On her pale colored skin that was exposed for those to see where even more markings, tattoos of protection runes and words in latin nearly covering every inch of her arms and chest. In the very center of her chest in between her collar bone there was a single tattoo that stood out the most. Two crescent moons backed up against a full moon, bearing a five pointed star in the center.

“Stop being mean to your baby brother Connor, I keep telling you not to be rough.”the woman snapped as she walked passed the rebellious kid and ruffling his mowhawk. He waved his arms around to stop the woman and taken a few steps back shooting her a small glare. Sticking his tongue out in defiance at the woman before grinning.

“Someone’s gotta toughen him up Mom, figured I’d help.” Connor said with a grin but that grin soon disappeared when she let out a small sigh. “Just...know when to stop Connor.” Turning her attention to Justin that was coming down the ladder the brunette spoke again.

“Everything ready?”

“Just about Mom, I gotta let Diva, Luna and Oddie out of the cages yet.”he spoke jumping down on the final step before heading to the back. The woman had just begun to follow after her eldest son but was soon toppled over by a large red canine. She could hear Connor and Gabriel both laugh at their mother’s plight, the canine’s tail wagging a mile a minute as it began to vigorously lick at it’s owner’s face.

“Oddite! Down! HEEL!” she screeched trying to push the pooch off of her. The red doberman didn’t even budge from the shopkeeper’s pushing, it felt like she was drowning in slobber until the dog turned his attention to the boy’s and bounded off the woman and continued its ‘assault’ on Connor and Gabriel both. Connor began screaming in protest and tried to do what his Mother tried but ended with the same fate.

Death by kisses.

Sitting up and letting out a heavy sigh Nia wiped the slobber off from her face and shook off whatever was left off of her hand. Coming not too far behind, strutting out with head held high was a silver colored maine coon. The feline’s gold colored eyes looking around the shop looking displeased at the new surroundings but helped herself by taking a seat up on the counter top, right beside the cash register and promptly began to clean herself.

A Queen must always look presentable to her subjects.

What sounded like birds songs with the sound of chimes and sweet bells were fast approaching from behind the veil. Justin appearing out from the back room holding a large parrot like bird on his left shoulder. Its beautiful feathers of pastel colors of teal, purple, light green and yellows. Feathers around its face making the bird appear to have fat little cheeks, its tail long and elegant, nearly touching the floor boards. The bird is considered one her most prized possessions other than her sons, it had taken years to even find this mythical bird but Nia had found it and now uses the parrots feathers for medicinal practices.

For those who are willing to pay a shit tone of cash to bring a love one back to life that is.

“There is my lovely Diva, hello my lovely girl.” Nia cooed getting back on her feet and presented her right arm out for the  bird to perch upon. Taking flight off of Justin and going on to the woman’s forearm the birds song’s became louder in excitement but soon stopped when she was being petted, letting out soft loving coo’s as her feathers fluffed up in approval of the attention she was receiving.

“I have the perfect spot for you pretty girl, right at the shop window so everyone can see how pretty you are.” Nia continued to coo and praise walking over to the large shop window. A perch had already been set for the bird and she wasted no time on jumping on and continued her sweet songs for all to hear from inside and outside the shop.

A small whine interrupted Nia’s attention from the bird and to the Doberman that sat down beside the woman. Its amber colored eyes looking up at his owner with pleading eyes. Letting out a small chuckle Nia rubbed the dog’s head in praise as well, couldn’t leave her hellhound out of all the pets.

“Excuse me, but are you open?” a brittle voice cracked from the shop entrance. Justin,Connor and Gabriel remained silent as all three of the boys stood in place and eyed the possible customer. A first glance it was just a normal looking old lady, sweet looking and had a gentle caring air about her. But if you were to give the brittle woman a second glance the old lady’s skull could be outlined by how tight her skin was.

Diva had stopped singing when ‘grandma’ walked through the shop thresh hold.

Clapping her hands together and giving the woman the warmest of smiles Nia approached the elderly woman with a skip in her step, happy to help to whatever she needed.

“Why yes of course, we have JUST opened ma’am! What can we help with you today?” Nia said cheerfully taking a step beside the woman and gracious held her forearm out for the woman to hold to keep her balance. Grandma didn’t waste anytime and accepted the help and shuffled along side Nia and gazed out the shop with beady black eyes, mouth shaped in an ‘o’ in awe at the various items and herbs on the shelves.

“I have been having issues, you see I am very frail and my joints ache sooo much.”

“I can see that ma’am, I have a few herbs that can make that pain go away for good.”

“OH! How wonderful! I’ve been to so many doctors and they are of no help at all. No help at all! I am glad I have stopped by here.” the woman cheered as Nia escorted the woman to take a seat in a plush love seat. Gentle patting the back of the woman’s hands Nia soon went to work.

“Justin, Cat Claws. Connor I need some thunder god vines. Gabriel, be a sweetheart and get Mrs..?”

“Lockheart.”

“Get Mrs.Lockheart a small bowl,olive oil and water. Oh! and don’t forget a white candle.” Nia spoke gently to her youngest. Gabriel looked at his mother full of uncertaity but nodded his head slightly and quickly rushed to the back. Mrs.Lockheart looked at Nia with a small look of confusion, cocking a brow.

“May I ask what those are for?” she croaked.

“It is part of the process Mrs.Lockheart, trust me all my remedies work with a specialty to them.” she assured turning around just in time for Gabriel come running back with the items his mother asked for. With a smile and taking the ingredients Justin came up with a small foldable table and sat it beside Mrs.Lockheart chair. Again the old woman watched with puzzlement but in fascination as Nia began to pour the olive oil and water together in the black bowl. Stirring with her right index finger Nia hummed a soft tune to herself before pulling her finger out and lighting the white candle with a match stick.

“Alrighty Mrs.Lockheart I need you to drink all of this for me. This will help with the joint pains.” Nia handed the bowl to the woman’s shaking hands, her finges too long and nails that look like they could cut into anything. Mrs.Lockheart gave Nia weary look before pressing the rim of the bowl to her thin lips and began to gulp the mixture down, a grimace on the woman’s face when she finished. Smacking and lips together and showing needle like black teeth from behind that flimsy skin.

Before the old woman could say a thing Nia lashed out with her right hand and took hold of the elderly woman’s face. The sweet demeanor burned away with Mother’s intuition to protect her own offspring.

“Water, oil, and candlelight, Bring my enemy into sight. Let me see all I need to know To protect myself from this foe!”

Mrs.Lockheart let out a piercing shrill cry as she reeled her head back in agony and began to frail around to release herself from Nia’s grasp. Nia tossed the woman off to the floor as soon as her thin flesh began to twist and contort into odd angles. Arms and legs elongated into fine point of that of an insect, her torso shrinking and head looking more of a human skull. Lower jaw jutting far out and revealing long sharp teeth the demon came up to Nia’s hip height and looked like a grotesque spider.

“YOU!!!! HOW DID MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU KNOW?!” the Critter screeched wobbling quickly wobbling itself on its legs and facing the wiccan with the bloodthirsty aura.

“See when my bird stops singing when someone comes in, she stops singing. You also smell like a rotting corpse. You Critters are not a very bright species of demon at all.” she spoke flatly with arms crossed over her chest, unimpressed by this situation. The Critter let out a low chittering growl before lunging forward to the Witch getting ready to strike Nia down from where she stood.

Of course Nia was quick to react and shoved her right hand out, palm open to reveal another pentagram in the center, glowing a fiery orange.

“Uro.” 

Incinerate.

A bright flight and a loud pop the Citter screamed out in agony again, being engulfed in orange hell fire as it staggered and skittered around on the floor. Oddie began chasing after the burning demon barking in excitement, biting at its legs and tearing one off to stop the demon’s movement and to leave it thrashing on the floor.

“YEAAAAHHH!! BURN BABY! BURN!!!!” Connor jeered pumping his fists in the air and jumping up and down to share Oddie’s excitement. Justin just rolled his eyes and Gabreil covered his eyes and looked away at the sight. Unmoving and charred to nothing but ashes the demon was now dead, leaving behind a blacken spot on the floor to Nia’s dismay.

“GOD. DAMNIT. That is Mahogany! For fuck’s sakes that’s going to stain badly.” Nia whined looking at the charred spot in dismay.

“You want me to get a bucket of water and floor polish mom?”

“Yes sweety that would be great....I have to put a barrier up at the door in case another comes around. I do NOT want my floor to be black and smell liked a burned body.” Nia whimpered turning her attention to the hellhound that was happily chewing on the prized leg he got from the Critter.

“Good boy. Oddie. But next time....react quicker ok buddy?”