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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long!

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron??

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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girlwiththegreenhat · 2 years

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portal. go

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): i have two favorites perfectly tied but one of them has other opportunities for this meme so i will do the other one. chell. chell my beloved. nothing stops this woman. she survives the death trap of a facility that is aperture, twice. she can talk but she chooses not to out of pure spite. i know it’s a video game and giving up is counter productive but when her bad situation is the worst its ever been and she wakes up at the end of the miles-deep elevator shaft in the ruins of old aperture... she gets up. and she keeps going. “tenacious” is one of the few things we know about her, and i admire that so much.

and after the ending, if anyone can make the best out of a post-combine world, it’s her. she’s free and she deserves that.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): wheatley in the first half of the game is 100% my little scrunkly my little bastard orb my little fella that i balance on my face for as long as i can Without Fail Every Time when he pops off his stupid rail because he asked me to catch him but god dammit i have no available hands. he’s an idiot. he talks too much. he likes going thru the Funny Tubes in ch5. wheatley my friend wheatley from portal 2 2011 valve corporation :)

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): does doug rattmann qualify for this, the funny painter man living in the walls who you never actually meet but you see the remnants of him in his dens. he does so much actually and i think about him a lot. there are probably people who have played both games who don’t even know his name but it’s his spaces that contribute one of the best elements of the wrongness of aperture, and it’s amazing how you can feel so connected to him and appreciative of him and you literally never see the guy. if it weren’t for him chell wouldn’t have gotten out of the facility at all. i always get so wrapped up in the environment that when i find his spaces i have to Stop and think about him, look at them. appreciate the paintings even though they’re the same every time. sit n listen to exile, vilify, maybe cry a little.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): the companion cube counts as a character and it counts for this category specifically because every time i get my hands on that thing my mood increases and i get legitimately excited over a metal box with a pink heart painted on it. it’s in a chamber that takes like, two minutes to complete if that, in each game. it has no dialogue. it sings if you get really close to it. iirc it’s existence is a parody and guess what, i’ve fallen for it. LOVE that box. i have The Box in real LIFE. LOVE that box. ... also the curiosity core. that lil dude is baby. i think it’s funny how you have to incinerate both of these characters

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): wheatley gets to go twice because of what he does in the second half of the game. he’s a little shit. stabs you right in the back and given that he was Made to be stupid, by god, is he. ... and yet. he’s too endearing. he’s the new Big Bad and he’s horrible at it. he’s just... stupid. really stupid. i Get what it’s like being set up to fail and i can’t help but feel sorry for him?? i wouldn’t unironically call myself a “wheatley apologist” he definitely did Bad Thing (Which Was Bad) but i find the concept of him getting a chance for redemption and taking it really interesting which is why i like Blue Sky so much. he is my problematic fav and absolutely a pathetic little dude as well but i want him to be happy. i’m gonna play basketball with him real quick before he gets to be though.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): this is the only prompt i got stuck on so you know what i’m putting All the cores into an actual plinko machine, even glados. except space core. space core has done nothing wrong, ever, in his life.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): cave johnson is going straight to hell just for what he did to caroline. she makes me sad, man. so naturally his Other Crimes makes him a perfect candidate for superhell.

#liz blogs #portal #frankforested #ask #a little tricky because portal does not have Many characters but i love and adore portal enough that i can make it work

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silenthearts · 3 years

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I’m just your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman

Summary: You and Luke have a date planned but being the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman gets in the way of your plans

Genre: This is tooth rotting fluff, Luke helping old ladies, kittens and young boys and girls with their football skills!

Also this is set where Both Miles and Peter have retired from being Spiderman. You can send me ideas of what you’d want me to write about within the universe.

Requests are open , I’d love to write more Spiderman!Luke, I may even do a mood board

****

You had been looking forward to a date with Luke for ages, both of you had been extremely busy and with your hectic lives, it had been almost impossible to just have some time for yourselves.

But today you had an extra hour for lunch and Luke had been at university all day and the “superhero” side gig had been fairly calm, so you decided that you were both gonna grab some lunch and stroll around somewhere.

You left the office super excited as you could be a normal couple for at least an hour today. The spring air caressed your cheeks as you walked quite quickly towards the coffee shop you agreed to meet Luke at.

A smile was fixed on your lips the whole way, who knew a lunch date with your long-term boyfriend could be so exciting.

Luke stood leaning on the lamp-post in front of the coffee shop, two hot drinks in his hands as he looked around for your face in the crowd. You saw him from a distance as he looked around and avoided his gaze so you could surprise him. You slowly walked up behind the tall boy and tried to put your hands over his eyes, but failing miserably as he was too tall for you to completely cover his eyes. Instead, your hands awkwardly rested on his cheeks which made an audible giggle escape his lips.

“Guess who?” You said, trying to not laugh yourself.

“Oh, I don’t know, who could it possibly be?” He giggled, going along with your silliness. “Is it Mr stark?” He said jokingly which made you drop your hands. Luke turned around to face you and you giggled

“Close enough,” you said as he offered you your hot drink which you thanked him for with a little peck on his soft lips.

“So, where are we going?” He asked as you both started walking aimlessly in a random direction.

“I was thinking, maybe central park? Get a hot dog for lunch?” you suggested, your hand found his as your fingers interlaced. He nodded.

“Sounds like a plan!” he said excitedly and pulled you in the direction of central park. On the way, both of you talked about your day and how your apartment really needed a tidy and maybe a better paint job. Luke told you how the Spiderman gig had been quite quiet today and he almost didn’t know what to do with the normalcy of just being a student.

When both of you got to the park entrance and got two hotdogs from your favourite hot dog stand, Luke noticed an old lady who stood yelling up at a tree.

“C’mon Snowball! You got up there, you need to get down!” Meows were heard from the tree but nobody seemed to be helping the poor lady, New Yorkers and tourists alike just ignored the old lady pleading at her cat who seemed to be stuck up the tree.

You observed Luke and just tapped him on the shoulder

“You can go help her” you smiled. Luke had a worried look on his face, his eyebrows knitted together as he restrained to not leave you on your date.

“But the date-” He tried to say but you just shook your head, “ I think she needs you more than I do, besides I get to annoy you at home every day.” he smiled and gave you a deep kiss as he ran away and left you with his food. You found a bench nearby and sat waiting for Spiderman to appear. You didn’t even wait a full five minutes when he came swinging down.

He swiftly landed near the old lady making her excitedly sigh in relief as she saw him and he walked in her direction.

“Do you need help mam?” he said politely, approaching her. His suit made you blush every time as he looked so handsome. Let’s just say you liked that the suit hugged him in all the right places.

“My snowball got up to that tree and I don’t want to pull his leash and make him fall” she explained and pointed up the tree where a fluffy Persian white cat stood on the tree branch.

Luke nodded “Don’t worry mam, I’ll bring your snowball back down safely!” With a web he pulled himself up the tree, at the point, there was a small crowd gathered around the tree, all looking up as he approached the little fluffy cat, at this point you observed him from a closer spot, and your heart couldn't help but feel tight and warm and Luke’s little soft voice as he tried to get the cat’s attention.

“Hello, snowball...” Luke said softly, his voice a bit muffled by his mask. The cat meowed and turned away from Luke. “Hey I know we don’t really know each other but like we are buddies now,” he spoke as he slowly made his way onto the same branch where snowball stood. The tree branch cracked under his weight and everyone let out a gasp as Luke steadied himself.

Snowball sat on the edge of the branch, it felt like he was mocking Luke on purpose. Snowball meowed in Luke’s direction as he slowly made his way further, maintaining his balance.

‘I know buddy but it’s time to come down” Luke whispered as he finally got a hold of the chubby and fluffy snowball, the circle of people underneath the tree all started clapping but it wasn’t long till the branch broke under Luke’s feet. Thankfully his fast reflexes made him shoot up a web that held him and snowball in place. The tree branch fell and Luke yelled for the crowd to disperse.

Thankfully everyone did and Luke slid down the web, snowball held in one of his arms, the crowd started clapping once again as he delivered the cat to the old lady who had small tears in the brim of her eyes. “There you go mam, safe and sound” He held out snowball to the old lady who held her beloved cat close to her chest.

“Thank you so much, you’re a very nice young man.” She said as she tapped his shoulder in reassurance, a wide smile plastered on her lips.

“Oh, thank you so much, it was a pleasure to help” Luke gave snowball one last tap on his little fluffy head “ You need to be more careful next time buddy.” He said happily with a giggle at the end. Everyone swarmed Spiderman but he made way so the old lady and her cat could safely exit the crowd of people who had formed around them.

He, of course, stood behind to greet fans and talk to everyone who wanted to talk to him, even taking a few silly selfies. Once people started dispersing, he made his way back to you, a smile was on your face and your cheeks were rosy from the slight chill in the air, and because your boyfriend was the kindest person you’ve ever met.

You sometimes wonder if these radioactive spiders just go around choosing and picking the nicest guys, sometimes it feels like it.

He finally approached you “Did you see that?” He said excitedly “I am your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman!” He giggled, Luke had wanted to just do that for a while, the big villains and steaks of the last few years had left him a bit fatigued and exhausted, he was happy to just save kittens from trees and stop bicycle robberies.

“You are indeed!” You exclaimed happily. Your moment just the two of you didn’t last long, however.

“Hey, Spiderman!” A kid yelled loudly from the little concrete football (soccer) field. “Do a flip!” Another little girl yelled. Luke laughed and happily obliged at the request, doing backflip which made the kids erupt into celebratory laughs and chants. Luke gave you a tilt of his head and you playfully rolled your eyes.

The kids yelled a request for Luke to join them for a football game and you nodded “Go on...” He excitedly made his way to the group of children, giving high fives to all the boys and girls who stood around him. Soon enough you sat at a park bench, eating your and Luke’s hot dogs as he played around with the children, letting them all play against him and consequently letting them win every game.

You knew your date got somehow pushed into the background, but there was nothing you enjoyed more than seeing Luke happy and doing what he liked most. His kindness with everyone overwhelmed your heart with happiness, You couldn’t have asked for anyone better than him, your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.

****

Okay this made me soft, spiderman!luke is like one of my fav things to write atm. Mostly cuz I cant wait for the new Spiderman movie. I hope you enjoyed lovelies xx

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lu-undy · 3 years

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Chapter 74 - SBT (Spicy, kids, stay away!)

Here it is!

"So, gonna tell me what you have for me that's better than dinner?"

"I will, be patient."

Lucien straddled his lover's lap and smiled. He held both his hands and laced his fingers between the Aussie's.

"Alright, how long before you tell me?"

"We will get our dinner delivered, then, we can sleep - or not, as you wish - and tomorrow, you shall enjoy your surprise."

"Sounds like I already have one for tonight, eh?" Mundy put his hands on Lucien's waist.

"You might."

Suddenly both men heard a cry for help outside of the van. Lucien jumped out of Mundy's lap and both leapt at the door and opened it.

"I-I'm sorry!" The poor man said. "I-I'm the delivery bloke, I just have your order!"

Mundy and Lucien looked between themselves and the delivery man. The herd of fluff was hissing, showing their needle-like teeth at the intruder.

"Cats, calm down, he's ok." Mundy said as he walked to the poor, scared man.

"Sit." Lucien said and all the cats obeyed. "Good boys and girls." He crouched to pet them. "We do apologise for the trouble, they are not usually outside without us to look after them."

"It's fine. A hell of a family of cats you have, eh?"

"Yeah… Here's for your tip and thanks mate. Sorry again."

"No worries, bye!"

Mundy and Lucien slipped in the van again.

"Wanna get in?" Mundy asked the cats.

"Meow." Soot spooned his companion and started to bathe Perle.

"Alright, fine, try and not make other babies especially not in front of these ones…"

Perle hissed.

"Mundy, they know what they are doing, come inside, please."

The Aussie chuckled.

"Fair enough."

He slipped in and they sat down.

"What did you get us?"

"Some chinese, I hope you will like it." Lucien answered.

"Prefer French, but it's fine." He winked at Lucien who smiled.

Each took their box and started eating their noodles.

"Mh, could have taken it more spicy than that, eh?" Mundy said.

"I have very low tolerance for hot food, and I didn't know for you so I played it safe." Lucien answered. "If the lack of hotness is unbearable, I can correct for that after dinner."

"Well now, you have to, eh? Can't promise me things like that and not deliver." Mundy answered.

"Then let it be so. But before I forget, tomorrow I shall arrange a few things, I don't need you to be here so you can stay home and sleep for a bit longer."

"Alright, that's nice."

"Are you not curious as to where I am going?"

"As long as you come back and still love me, I trust you, love."

Lucien smiled.

"And I value it pricelessly, mon loup."

They went on having their dinner.

"So, how d'you feel about Victoria's weddin'? You nervous?" Mundy asked.

"Quite so, oui. I never imagined walking someone down the aisle in a church for their wedding, especially not like that…"

"What d'you mean, like that?"

"Victoria is not my daughter."

"She feels like she is though. And I saw you with her, luv', you really behave like you're her dad."

"Hm. Maybe."

"For sure!" Mundy said before slurping more noodles. "The way you held her and comforted her in the diner… I was starin' at you and was thinking to myself that your son was mighty lucky to have you as his dad."

Lucien's eyes snapped wide.

"I'm serious, love. You're… very different from my dad, for example."

"How so?" Lucien asked.

"Dad wasn't very… Uh… He wouldn't show that he loved me much. Not that he didn't, I think he really did love me but he just never said it or showed it. But you, hell, that hug you gave her was more than I ever got from my Dad."

"I see… Same for me technically." Lucien answered. "I never knew my father, never met him. I only saw one picture of him which is now under the ground in Paris."

"D'you ever… regret doin’ that?" Mundy asked.

"Doing what?"

"Buryin' all your personal stuff?"

"I am not sure. Part of me doesn't want to look back and just wants to focus on this new life I am leading here."

"But the other half wants that stuff back?"

"Not so much for my own." Lucien answered. "But rather, for you."

"Me?"

"Oui. I would like to show you Marie and Jérémy, I would like to show you so many things so that you understand me better…"

"Hey, love…" Mundy tightened his embrace. "I get you, ok? I understand you and respect you."

"Thank you."

Lucien raised his lips and they exchanged a kiss. He then straddled his lover's lap without his lips disconnecting from the Aussie's.

"Mmh… Yer lips taste amazin'..."

"So do yours…"

The kisses became wet and sloppy while hands touched, grabbed, explored and Lucien seemed particularly eager that evening…

"Gosh, y-your hips, Lu'..."

Mundy felt his lover was rolling them against his. He put his hands on Lucien's waist and indeed his palms rolled, following the Frenchman's pelvis.

"Bugger, Lu', wait, let's get to bed…"

"Oui."

They both slipped in the bed and their clothes were thrown left and right, carelessly, until they ended up naked.

"L-Lu'... You really are doin' things to me right now…"

"I can feel it, mon loup…" Lucien answered. He was on top of Mundy, kissing his neck and going down to his chest.

"What put you in the mood? You went from normal to this in a flash?!" Mundy asked.

"You, your lips, your touch, your eyes…" Lucien punctuated his sentences with kisses and licks, to which Mundy closed his eyes and whimpered. His hips started to react on their own. "I also have taken the liberty to buy something for tonight…" The Frenchman added as he was biting the Aussie's hip.

"Oof-! W-what is it?"

"This here." Lucien put it on Mundy's chest and the Aussie squinted. Not a split second later, his eyes snapped wide as he understood what that little plastic bottle contained.

"Oh… Y-you wanna-?"

"Oui." Lucien cut him. He laced his fingers through Mundy's and went to his lips.

"N-now?"

Their lips lapped and sucked at each other's, filling the van with sounds that made them both warmer.

"If you so wish, mon loup, I am yours." Lucien almost whispered in Mundy's ears, with his velvet voice.

"Bloody hell… Y-your voice…"

"What about it, hm?" Lucien went on.

"You know… Perfectly… But what's the plan, hm? Turn me on like there's no tomorrow and then what?" Mundy asked.

Lucien went to his ear and put his hands on Mundy's cheeks.

"Use that bottle… and me."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide and his pupils shrank. He grabbed Lucien by his lips and flipped him to be the one on top. He then turned the Frenchman on his stomach with raging lust.

"Gosh, Lu'..." Mundy laid on top of Lucien, flush against him on his back and started lazily grinding as he bit and kissed his shoulder and his back. "I… I don't wanna hurt you but…"

"Please, I know you won't hurt me… Just have fun… Argh-!" Lucien felt Mundy's teeth dig deeper on his shoulder, his pointy canines would leave a mark, for sure.

"Want you…" Mundy growled.

"Take me…" Lucien answered before another bite made the sweat break everywhere and the heat between his legs coiled more.

Mundy went down, leaving marks of teeth and such all along his lover's back until he arrived where he wanted.

"Gosh you look like a porcelain doll…" His hands grasped Lucien's soft flesh left and right and kneaded it like a priceless dough. Lucien whimpered and propped himself up on his elbows. "You look so good I could bloody eat you…"

"Be my guest - argh!"

Mundy growled as his hungry teeth dug in the flesh.

"Mon Dieu!"

Lucien arched his back as he felt his lover's tongue closing in on his vulnerability. He grabbed a pillow and dug his nails in it as he moaned.

"Look at all this…" Mundy lapped where the Frenchman had been craving some attention and Lucien moaned loud. The Aussie let his tongue paint the tight ring of muscles as his hands pulled left and right to reveal the Frenchman's secrets better.

"Mon Dieu, Mundy… Aargh!"

"You're bloody delicious… and so fuckin' soft…"

"Argh! Please!"

"What d'you want, hm?" Mundy lapped and the Frenchman's hips jerked on their own.

"Please… The bottle…" Lucien's eyes were shut, he couldn't see anything anymore.

"Right, here comes."

Lucien heard the plastic cap pop open and Mundy coated his finger generously.

"C'mere." Mundy flipped Lucien on his back again and went straight for a sloppy kiss. Lucien wrapped his arms around his lover and kept his legs open. "Breathe slowly and relax, ok? I got you, luv'..."

"Oooh… Hah… Slowly… Please…" He hissed.

Mundy held him with one arm while his finger worked gently on his lover.

"See…? I'm goin' very slowly, it's all fine… Relax, luv', I've got you here… You're with me…"

"Aaah… Mundy…"

"Sssh, save your strength, just enjoy." Mundy added a kiss to Lucien's lips before sitting between his open legs. He took the bottle and squirted more of its content on his finger before going at it again.

"Aah… P-please, Mundy…?" Lucien's eyebrows were arched high up.

"Yeah?"

"More…"

"Okay. Here… I'll go slow as always, ok…?"

"O-oui… Oh… Oui… mmmh…"

Mundy worked him up in slow, gentle movements and Lucien discovered feelings he thought he never would.

"Mundy, please… Your lips…"

"Sure, luv'." Mundy laid on top of Lucien's slim body and held him close as he kissed him. He got surprised by how much Lucien needed it. "You ok, darl'? You feel different."

"Please hold me."

"Course." Mundy let his whole weight fall on Lucien and held him close and tight. "Talk to me, what is it?"

"It is… My first time doing this… I need you to be slow… I apologise but-"

"No, don't apologise, we'll take our time, ok? And if you want to stop here, we'll stop here, ok?"

"I am sorry." Lucien screwed his eyes shut in shame.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with wantin' to go slow, ok?"

"Oui but a minute ago I was so sure of myself but now I don't know anymore."

"It's ok, it's fine, you can change your mind."

"But Mundy I put you in this state and now I'm backing away… It's…"

"It's fine is what it is. There is no problem whatsoever, ok, Lu'?" Mundy put his hands left and right on his lover's cheeks. "Love? Open your eyes, just a second."

"I can't. I'm ashamed."

"Hm." Mundy thought fast. He put the blanket over them both, they were now both underneath it. "Here, now, nothing will get to you. Please, Lu', look at me, I need to see your beautiful eyes…?"

Lucien frowned.

"Love…?" Mundy kissed his closed eyelids gently. "Please, gorgeous?"

Lucien blinked a couple of times and opened his eyes. He looked up at Mundy and quickly averted his gaze.

"Hey… Don't feel weird about it."

"I am sorry."

"No, don't be, there's nothin' to be sorry about." He kissed his bearded cheek.

"Yes, there is. Look at me, a man older than you and I behave like a teenage girl…"

"No." Mundy answered. "I couldn't give a shit how you behave like. You have your limits and I have mine, if we get close to these limits, you have to tell me and I'll gladly stop, ok?"

"At my age, Mundy, at my God-forsaken age…!"

"Who gives a shit?!" Mundy asked. "I don't! It's your first time and I'm so bloody happy it's with me and… Gosh, this whole thing just makes me love you more…!"

"You say this to comfort me." Lucien was still not looking his lover in the eye.

"No, I don't. I just think it's beautiful of you to react this way… It feels like…" Mundy brushed his lover's upper cheeks with his thumbs and Lucien finally met his eyes. "Feels like a first time to me too, eh?" He smiled softly.

"I love you, Mundy…" Those round, light blue eyes were something to behold. Lucien's eyebrows were arched up in a pleading way and the Aussie couldn't help but just smile and try and remember that instant, that face, the long silver hair all around it like the beams of a masculine sun…

"I love you too, sweetheart, ok?" Mundy continued brushing Lucien's cheeks.

"Oui."

"And I'm proud of you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you took more than I ever did in my life. You're a bloody hero, y-you're my everythin'. I love you so much." Mundy kissed Lucien's cheek again and the Frenchman pulled him closer.

"I cannot ever recall a man as gentle as you are, Mundy."

"Never seen anyone as gorgeous as you eh."

"Pfff…"

"What? It's true." He chuckled.

"I can believe it." Lucien arrogantly answered.

"Love ya." Mundy buried his head in Lucien's neck and peppered kisses from time to time. "Love ya like you have no idea."

"Me too." Lucien wrapped his arms around Mundy's head. "Me too, mon amour, but please…?"

"What?"

"I think I am ready for more."

"You sure? We can stop it here if you want."

"Non, please… I want you." Lucien pulled him closer and grinded his hips.

Mundy left a final kiss.

"Should I continue or…?"

"Oui, please."

"Anythin' for you, love." Mundy coated his fingers again. "You really sure though? Oh…"

Lucien took his lover's hand and guided him down where he wanted it to be.

"Alright, here we go…"

"Ahaa…. Hah…"

"Breathe slowly and relax. It's much easier than earlier, I can feel it."

"More, please." Lucien closed his eyes to focus on what was happening down there.

"Right… Here… How does that feel?"

"Orh… Oui… A-another finger, please, I want to feel you more."

"Okay, luv', take a slow, deep breath."

"Oh-oui… Oui, Mundy…" Lucien hissed and arched his back. "Oh!" Mundy started moving his fingers and Lucien's hips moved slowly.

"That's it, Lu'... You're doin' amazing, you're great."

"Please, your lips."

Mundy bent down and Lucien pulled him closer when their lips collided.

"Mmh, how d'you feel, love?"

"I will be better in a minute."

"Oh, bugger, am I hurting you?"

"Non," Lucien smiled. "I mean when you will truly make love to me."

Mundy felt a rush of blood to his head. The way that Lucien gazed at him, lovingly, and those words… Poetry.

"Y-you're… the best." Mundy laid on his lover and kissed him again, more and more. He was past the shy stage now and felt comfortable enough to stick his tongue out himself and start the French kiss. Lucien moaned under him and wrapped his legs around the Aussie's back.

"Mundy…"

"Oh! Gosh…!"

Lucien had grasped both their masculinities in one hand and stroked them in unison. Mundy groaned and buried his head deep in Lucien's shoulder. He started grinding against his member and in his warm palm.

"Gosh, Lu'... Yeah… Yeah…" Mundy added his hand on top of Lucien's and both rolled their hips in rhythm. One groaned and the other whimpered. A concert of lust in delight major.

"M-Mundy… Please… Do it…"

"You sure, luv'?"

"Oui… I want you… in me."

Mundy's eyes rolled back in bliss and his member gave a twitch.

"I want you too… You're so bloody sexy…"

"I do my best."

"You don't need to."

Mundy grabbed the bottle and popped the cap open again.

"Non!" Lucien snatched it off his hands and poured some of it in his palm. "Let me please…"

"Course."

They sat on their knees, face to face. Lucien sank down on all four and grabbed Mundy's member in his hand.

"What are you - oh? Yeah… Please… Gnh…"

Lucien took it between his lips and tasted it. Annoyingly enough, his long hair was flowing everywhere and it wasn't practical at all. He swooshed his head left and right to throw it out of the way.

"Let me help ya…"

Mundy took Lucien's hair and held it away from his face. The Frenchman hummed in thanks and sucked just a bit harder.

"You're welc-oh!-me" Mundy's hips jerked forward on their own.

Lucien chuckled as he pulled back and generously slicked his lover's member with the content of the bottle he had bought.

"There… Keep the bottle near, we might need more, mon amour."

"Sure."

"How do you want me?"

"On your belly, luv'."

Lucien did as he was told. Mundy lay on top of him and kissed the back of his neck.

"You ready, Lu'?"

"I have been waiting for too long, Mundy, please…"

Mundy took the matter in his own hand and positioned himself.

"Breathe deep, Lu'."

Lucien closed his eyes and he felt it.

"Oh… Oui… Doucement… Oui… Orh - Mundy…!"

[Softly]

"You're doin' great…" Mundy groaned. "Just tell me if it's too much or anythin'..."

"More, please…!"

Mundy lay down again on top of his lover and bit his shoulder gently as he pushed his hips deeper.

And then, he stopped. He was entirely in the safety of his lover's body.

"Gosh… You alright?"

"O-oui… Don't move, please, hold on…"

"Course."

Lucien turned his head and Mundy kissed his bearded cheek and his lips. The Frenchman was barely kissing back. He was focusing on the new sensations. It was hurting, obviously, but knowing that it was his lover's member that was pulling his body at its limits made it all worthwhile.

"You're gorgeous… And brave… I love you… And you feel so… so…"

"Say it." Lucien asked.

"So bloody tight, argh…" Mundy's member was aching with anticipation as he felt Lucien's walls closely wrapping him all around.

"Move, gently please…"

Mundy pulled his hips back slowly, not all the way, and pushed in again. He maintained the excrutiatingly slow rhythm for entire minutes.

"Mmmh, Lu', you sure you're relaxed…?"

"Oui, as much as I can be…"

"Gosh you're so tight… I'm so scared to hurt you…"

"You won't, continue gently for a bit more, please…"

Mundy's hands were wrapped around his lover's torso as he rolled his hips slowly still. He felt his lover's body get used to it as it relaxed little by little.

"Mundy…?"

"Yeah?"

"Faster, please."

"Ok."

Mundy picked up the pace only slightly, still afraid that it would go pear-shaped. But soon he felt Lucien raise his own hips to meet him. And the Frenchman started moaning louder as Mundy's hips matched Lucien's eager ones.

The Frenchman buried his head in the pillow to smother his obscene song of pleasure but Mundy wanted to hear him, he slipped the pillow off of him away and held his body between his strong arms.

"Bloody hell you sound and feel amazin'..."

Both were in a pool of sweat and the van's temperature had dramatically risen. The bed started creaking under them both and they moaned, hissed, growled and groaned louder still.

"M-Mundy… Ahaa…"

"Nnh-! Yeah…?"

"Hold me close, please…!"

Mundy instinctively put a hand on Lucien's, pinning his wrist to the bed and sliding his fingers in between the Frenchman. His other hand went underneath Lucien, he wanted to hold him somewhere and couldn't find where until his hand grasped wherever it was and Lucien let a powerful and high-pitched moan out. He rolled his eyes up in bliss. Mundy had wrapped his fingers around his throat…

The Aussie bent down again to push his hips deeper and he bit Lucien's ear. He grunted at each push of his hips.

"You're - bloody - amazin'... You feel - so - bloody - good… gnnh! Y-you're gettin' me close…"

Lucien was moaning with an open mouth and as Mundy kissed his cheek and now the corner of his mouth, he realised that the poor Frenchman was drooling on the mattress, he had lost all sense of control of his body.

"Lu'...? Lu'... What you said about the bottle and stuff… D'you mean it…? You said to use the bottle and… you?"

Lucien painfully nodded.

"Fuck…!"

"Nnnh?!"

Mundy tightened his grip on Lucien's throat slightly and grabbed his shoulder for leverage. His thrusts were now utterly controlled by his hips. He ran after his satisfaction, chasing it as he flared his nostrils, moving as fast and deep as he possibly could. Lucien opened his legs slightly more and Mundy stopped.

"Bugger… Are you alright?"

Lucien was sobbing.

"Hey, luv', darlin', Lu', talk to me…"

Lucien panted to catch his breath and he answered, his eyes still closed.

"Please take me… to the end… with you… Don't stop… again… Before… the end…"

Mundy frowned.

"Anythin' for you."

He put a hand back on Lucien's throat while the other was now on the Frenchman's member. Mundy's hips started anew and he felt it. Lucien's masculinity had been out of patience and Mundy's fingers were coated in its eagerness.

"Gosh, you've been on the edge for far too long… I'm sorry, luv', we'll do it together, I'm takin' you to the end, I promise…!"

Mundy's body was melting in a pool of sweet as he picked up the pace on his pelvis and his hand.

"L-Lu'! Lu'', I'm so close-!"

Lucien groaned louder as he thrusted his hips into Mundy's hand…!

In a concerto, both yelling their satisfaction as if they were alone in the world, they arrived where they had aimed to be. Mundy bit Lucien's neck at the back as he sheathed himself as deep as he could. At the same time, he felt Lucien's pleasure burst out on his fingers.

They panted and breathed heavily, Mundy freed Lucien's throat and kissed him wherever his mouth could reach, namely, on the top of his back and the back of his neck.

"I love you… I love you… I love you… You're the best, I've never loved anyone else like you before, you just… You make everything make so much sense… You… You're everythin' I never could dream of… Y-you're the stuff of books and movies… You're amazing…"

Lucien sniffed and Mundy's eyes snapped wide open.

"Lu'? Love, tell me, what's wrong?" He hugged his lover tight.

"P-please… Can you…?" Lucien moved his hips and Mundy gasped.

"Oh, bugger, sure…" He withdrew gently and Lucien curled in a ball. He continued to sniff.

"Lucien, please, talk to me? Did I go too far? Did you want me to stop but you couldn't say? Oh, Gosh, I-I'm so sorry, I… Argh…" Mundy gagged and Lucien flipped on the bed.

"'Scuse me…"

Mundy put on his underwear and slipped out of the van.

"M-Mundy?"

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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toohardtoforgetcth · 4 years

Text

Too Hard To Forget

Chapter Two

Warnings: Swearing, angst, the usual

4,570 words

A/N: I’ve been waiting to post chapter two of this fic until I got some interest in the first bit so here it is! Feedback is so so appreciated since this is the first piece of writing I’ve ever published and I’d love to know what you think!

It had been twelve days since Parker’s awkward exchange with Calum at the record store, and eight days since he had put the fear of God into her outside Grace’s room. She was surprised to discover he hadn’t been in to visit Grace in four days. In the short time she’d known him, she’d come to realize that it was unlike him to go more than a day or two without visiting.

Despite being downright terrified of him, Parker felt drawn to Calum. Every time he knocked her down, she found herself wanting to come running back for more. Parker’s curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking Grace where he’d been.

“Everything okay with your grandson—Calum, right? Haven’t seen him all week,” she asked nonchalantly, but the old woman saw right through her.

She smiled a knowing smile, making Parker blush. “I told you he wasn’t so bad, didn’t I?” she winked.

Parker made a face. She would never say so, but she had to disagree with her on that one. She wondered if Grace really knew the effect her grandson had on people.

“Anyhow, he’s been so busy with work. Poor boy. It’s a terrible job. He could do so much better, he just doesn’t know it.”

Parker pondered this for a moment. Hating his job would explain why he was so moody all the time—she couldn’t imagine having to wake up every morning and work your life away at a place that made you miserable. “If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Grace,” Parker smiled.

» » » » » »

Friday afternoon, Parker still hadn’t seen Calum. She had been hopeful every time the front door opened and disappointed to discover it wasn’t him. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way—Calum scared her, and she should really learn to just let it go. Maybe there was a part of her—a competitive part—that wanted to win his friendship, simply because his cold demeanor made him a kind of challenge.

Calum wasn’t a nice guy—that much was obvious. He had given Parker plenty of reasons to want to stay away from him. He was clearly not interested in her—as friends or otherwise. In fact, he had been nothing but hostile towards her since their first meeting. But still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man with the chocolate brown eyes. She daydreamed about those eyes, his muscled frame, soft brown curls. He was alluring, and Parker wondered what he was really like, under all the black and tattoos and leather, wondered if he had a soft side that anyone besides Grace was ever privileged enough to see.

• • • • • •

Calum was sick and fucking tired of Tom’s bullshit. He was this fucking close to quitting today and telling him to go fuck himself when he got a call from Gram. No matter what kind of shit Calum got himself into, Gram was always there when he needed her most, saving him when he didn’t even know he needed saving.

“Hi dear,” her shaky voice sounded from the other end.

Calum sighed deeply. He missed her voice. He missed her. He felt like shit for not going to see her, but he’d just been feeling so inexplicably angry and irritable the past week, and honestly, it was draining him. He knew he should visit, wanted to, but Calum couldn’t hide anything from Gram and he didn’t want her to worry. And he had to admit that subconsciously, he’d been avoiding Parker. Calum thought maybe some distance from her would keep his mind from wandering back to her, but so far he had been unsuccessful. He had a pretty good idea why he had been so bitter lately, and it was because of a pretty blonde with grey eyes. Parker was throwing him off—he’d never spent more than one night thinking about the same girl—and he didn’t like it.

“Hi, pretty lady,” he breathed, relaxing a little.

“Everything alright, honey? I haven’t seen you all week,” she sounded sad. It broke Calum’s heart. You piece of shit, he thought to himself. She doesn’t deserve this.

“I know,” he exhaled. “I’m sorry, Gram,” he said sincerely. “I don’t have a good reason. I gotta get back to work, but I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

• • • • • •

Parker was coming back from her lunch break when she noticed Calum emerging from the double doors of the lobby. Her heart skipped a beat when she locked eyes with him. His dark eyes bore into hers, leaving her feeling strangely exposed. He said nothing, looking away from her as he put a cigarette between his lips, stopping to light it as the door shut behind him.

She hadn’t seen him since he lashed out at her for listening at Grace’s door, but apparently Parker had a death wish.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly with a small smile as she approached the door, more out of politeness than to spark conversation. She knew he wouldn’t stop to chat with her, but Parker wasn’t going to ignore his existence, the way he did with her. Hopefully he didn’t rip her head off for trying to be polite.

Calum caught her by surprise when he responded.

“Hey.”

Progress, Parker thought. A definite improvement from the complete silence or burning hostility that he usually greeted her with. Taking advantage of his sudden mood change, Parker stopped in front of Calum. He watched her with curious eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke to the side.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she observed casually.

“Been busy,” he replied with a shrug.

God, he made it so difficult to have a normal conversation, but Parker was determined to change his falsely skewed opinion of her.

“Grace has been missing you. She talks about you all the time,” Parker commented, heart picking up as she noticed his eyebrows drawing together and his shoulders tense. Shit, wrong thing to say. Fuck, here we go again.

“Like I said, I’ve been busy,” he pushed off the wall, standing to his full height and looking down at Parker. “Doesn’t really concern you, anyway, does it?” he spat bitterly as he flicked his half-smoked cigarette to the pavement, stalking away.

Parker stared after him, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. What was his problem?

• • • • • •

Later that afternoon, Jenna sat cross-legged on Parker’s bed, painting her nails. Parker lay on her back, Loki curled up between her legs.

“What’s got you all moody today?” Jenna pressed, recognizing the face Parker usually made when she was overthinking.

“Ugh,” she groaned, flipping over onto her stomach. Loki let out a displeased meow at being disrupted, launching off the bed. “Stupid Calum,” Parker rolled her eyes in frustration.

“Ooh, hottie grandma’s boy? Elaborate, please,” Jenna gushed, scooting closer.

“I ran into him at work today. I haven’t seen him all week, and then he showed up out of the blue. He actually said hi to me, so I tried to make conversation since that’s the most he’s said to me, like, ever.” Parker sat up, facing Jenna. “And then he just—snapped at me. I don’t know what I did—why he hates me so much,” she flopped back down on the bed, blowing out a sigh.

Jenna giggled. “Not everyone is going to like you, babe. That’s life. Anyway, he sounds like a total d-bag. Why do you even care what he thinks?”

“I don’t know,” Parker admitted. “He just seems—different. I can’t help but feel like there’s this whole other side to him and I don’t know why but I feel this, like, need to get to know him. He is a d-bag,” she laughed, “but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Sounds like you need a distraction,” Jenna’s face twisted into a sly grin. “We’re going out tonight.”

• • • • • •

Calum was sitting comfortably on his couch, trying to unwind with a beer and a bad movie after a particularly shitty ending to an otherwise great visit with Gram. He had been avoiding Parker, and after a week of not seeing her, he felt the unwelcome feeling of butterflies in his stomach the second he laid eyes on her. It was a sensation he was wildly unfamiliar with but had grown accustomed to feeling whenever she was around.

And then she had to open her mouth and ruin everything. This girl really knew how to get him going.

To be fair, she hadn’t really said anything wrong. Her comment only pissed Calum off because he had already been feeling guilty for blowing off his visits with Gram and he was mad at himself. His response was harsh—he could tell it hurt her. He wished he didn’t care, but he did. As much as he hated to admit it, Calum was intrigued by Parker, and it was unsettling. He didn’t like feeling captivated by her—it made him feel vulnerable and Calum was not vulnerable. Parker made him feel like he had no control, and he hated it. He was trying and failing to come up with a way to get this girl out of his head when his three best friends burst through the door of his apartment unannounced.

“Put a shirt on, we’re hitting the town tonight,” his friend Michael shouted enthusiastically, heading straight into the kitchen and rooting through Calum’s fridge for a beer. He pulled out three, handing one to Ashton and Luke before opening his own.

Besides Gram, Calum loved only three people in this world; Michael, Ashton and Luke. The four of them had been best friends since high school, and they loved Calum unconditionally, despite his harsh tendencies and his troubled past.

“Boys, I’m relaxing,” Calum stretched his long legs out on the coffee table. “I’m not in the mood for your drunken misadventures tonight.”

Luke launched himself onto the couch, head landing in Calum’s lap. “Too bad, babycakes, we’re going out. So get up, get dressed, get pretty. You got ten minutes.” Luke reached up and pinched his cheek affectionately, taking a long swig of his beer.

Calum rolled his eyes at the tall blonde with the bright blue eyes, but he couldn’t help the grin that graced his lips. He’d been thinking about Parker all day, and truthfully, he could use a night out with his boys.

• • • • • •

Parker was feeling good, having downed several drinks since arriving at the bar with Jenna and a few of her other friends, but she was getting tired of dancing. Deciding she needed a break, she and Jenna wove their way through the crowd of tightly packed bodies before reaching the bar. She ordered a vodka and cranberry for Jenna and a beer for herself. She was sliding her cash across the bar top when she felt Jenna’s hand close around her forearm.

“Oh, my god,” she leaned in. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”

Parker followed her friends’ gaze to the other end of the bar, where Calum was leaning against a pillar, talking with three other ridiculously attractive men. Parker groaned. She came out tonight to think of things other than Calum, and there he was, in all his glory, demanding her attention.

“Why are they all so hot?!” Jenna gaped.

As if on cue, Calum turned his head in their direction, his dark eyes meeting Parker’s. His face fell, clearly not impressed upon seeing her here. She looked away immediately, flushing.

“Oh, Jesus. He saw me staring. Kill me now.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Jenna brushed her off with a wave of her hand. “Come on, let’s go back.”

She grabbed Parker’s wrist, dragging her back to the dance floor. Parker threw a subtle glance over her shoulder, where she caught Calum’s eye again. He was still watching her, not a trace of a smile on his lips.

• • • • • •

Calum stood by the bar, unmoving from his spot by the pillar. He’d been nursing a beer for the last hour, no longer in the mood to get drunk. His focus was on the blonde dancing with her friends, hips swaying and body moving in all the right ways. He hadn’t expected Parker to be here tonight, and it killed his vibe. The very thing he had come here to distract himself from was dancing fifty feet from where he stood, and he couldn’t tear his thoughts—or his eyes—away.

Calum was nothing if not experienced when it came to women. He had an attitude and a hard edge that women just seemed drawn to. He would never understand the obsession they had with the bad boy type, but he wasn’t complaining. Calum was not a relationship guy. He had two rules—never stay the night, never bring them home. Their place, quick and dirty, then disappear when they fell asleep—that’s how Calum liked it. He liked to be in control. That’s why Parker unnerved him—he’d never been drawn to anyone the way he was to her. She fascinated him in a way he didn’t understand. He’d been watching her all night, and he was starting to get irritated. He needed something else to occupy his racing thoughts.

“You got your eye on that pretty blonde one, don’t you, pal?” Ashton nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“What?” Calum shook his head as if to shake the image of her out of his mind. “No. I just—I know her.”

“Bullshit. I know that look,” Ashton mused.

Calum scoffed. “I don’t have a look.”

Ashton was the oldest of the four of them, and he knew them better than anyone. There wasn’t a thing he could hide from any of his boys, least of all Ashton.

Ashton’s expression turned sympathetic. “Cal, you can’t tell me you don’t get lonely. All you do is work, and Gram is the only girl you spend more than a day with. Don’t you think it’s time to try sticking with one girl, maybe?”

“Fuck off, mate. It’s none of your business,” Calum snapped.

Ashton’s expression softened. “I’m just worried about you, man. We all are.”

Calum pushed off from the pillar, annoyed. He knew Ashton meant well—it was obvious how much he cared for his boys. Like brothers. He was the glue that kept them all together. He was wise for his age, and he was the one they went to when they needed advice. But Calum wasn’t in the mood for his profound bullshit tonight. He needed a smoke.

Calum pushed through the throngs of people in the bar, earning glares from a few of them as he shoved them out of his way. He felt himself calm down almost immediately once he opened the heavy metal door at the back of the bar, the cool air hitting his face. He stepped out onto the deserted patio, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He lit it and closed his eyes, leaning back against the brick wall. He let the smoke burn his lungs, but it didn’t clear the fog in his brain like he had hoped it would.

Calum considered what Ashton said to him inside. He was pissed off at Ash for calling him out, but he had a point, though Calum would never admit it. He couldn’t explain why he didn’t want to settle down. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the girls he slept with, it’s just that he couldn’t see himself doing ordinary things with any of them. They were all just nameless faces, there to satisfy a need and that was it. He couldn’t picture himself waking up and making breakfast, staying up late watching movies, grocery shopping, with any of them. The only person he daydreamed about doing those things with was Parker. And that scared the living shit out of him.

Maybe his problem was that Calum didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend. He hadn’t grown up with parents, his grandfather died when he was only eight, and Gram never remarried. Calum was good at being alone. He wasn’t happy, but it was all he had ever known. The only girl he ever had somewhat of a relationship with—if you could even call it that—was Kendra, his first year out of high school. The rest of the boys went off to college while he stayed back and worked, and they dated for all of a month until she started sleeping around on him. He never loved her, but after that he decided that would be the first and only time he let himself care about someone.

When he finished his cigarette, he stubbed it out under his boot and headed back inside. He ordered himself another drink, returning to where he left the boys. Parker was still dancing, and Calum used all the strength he had in his body to force himself not to look at her.

A dozen feet away, he locked eyes with a cute brunette in a tight dress, leaving very little to the imagination. She flashed him a sexy smile, raising her drink to him.

Yeah, that’s exactly what he needed right now. A distraction in a tight dress.

He returned her smile with a lazy one of his own, which she took as an invitation to approach him. Good. Calum liked it better when he didn’t have to do all the work.

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“Depends. You gonna take me home?”

• • • • • •

Parker took a break around midnight, her feet aching and her mouth dry from the alcohol. Walking past the bar to the bathroom, she caught sight of Calum sitting on a stool, a beautiful girl with long, dark hair standing between his legs. He was smiling, his hands on her hips, and Parker felt a pang of jealousy hit her in the chest. You have nothing to be jealous of, she scolded herself. He’s an asshole—why do you like him? In that moment, Parker realized that she most certainly had feelings for Calum, even if she didn’t really know anything about him. Even though she was confused about what those feelings were, she knew she didn’t like seeing him with another girl. Parker changed her mind about taking a break. Seeing Calum with someone made her want to down several shots and forget he existed.

• • • • • •

Half an hour later, Calum said his goodbyes to the boys, leaving the bar with his arm slung around the shoulders of the brunette. As they passed the dance floor, he scanned the crowd for Parker. Calum spotted her in the same place she had been earlier, only this time she looked up and their eyes locked. He flashed her a cocky smile and winked, feeling equal parts satisfied and guilty at the expression that crossed her features.

He’d have to be blind not to see that look. It was written there, plain as day, on her face. She was hurt.

• • • • • •

Calum untucked himself from the grip of the sleeping brunette, slipping out of the bed that wasn’t his own. He didn’t even remember her name. She was pretty, but Calum hadn’t really been in the mood tonight. Something didn’t feel right, and a nagging voice in the back of his head told him it was because of a certain grey-eyed girl. He found his clothes on the floor, quickly dressing and shrugging on his leather jacket before finding his boots. He tugged them on as he shut the door silently behind him, leaving the girl with nothing but his first name and a night she wouldn’t forget.

Calum couldn’t say the same.

Calum stepped outside, thankful for the fresh air—the girl’s apartment was stuffy as hell. She didn’t live too far, taking Calum only 20 minutes to make it back to his apartment on foot. Enough time to have a smoke and clear his head. Despite the smoke burning his lungs, he was unable to erase the image of Parker’s face when he left the bar. Why had he taunted her, on purpose? What reason did he have to want to hurt her? When Calum finally settled in his own bed, he found himself wishing he never went out tonight.

» » » » » »

Parker spent most of Sunday morning being lazy in bed, hiding under the covers until the early afternoon, moving from her bed only to be lazy on the couch instead. She was having a great night dancing with her friends and letting loose until a certain moody, tattooed brunette ruined her night by going home with another girl. She wished that it was her going home with Calum, and that thought disturbed her. He was an asshole and Parker knew nothing good could come of her feelings for him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She had left the bar shortly after he did, her good mood spoiled when she thought about what he was doing.

» » » » » »

Parker awoke on Monday in a foul mood. She spent Sunday sad and stewing over Calum and how she’d never have him, but today she felt downright angry. Calum was a jerk and he was trying to hurt her, and for what reason? She deserved far better. Her sour mood only got worse when she arrived at work and spotted Calum in the hallway. He had his usual scowl on his face and he ignored her as he passed by, yet again.

Normally, she’d let it go and pretend not to let it bother her. Normally, she was a people-pleaser and hated confrontation.

Not today.

No, today there was no holding back. She was going to give him a piece of her mind.

She whirled around as Calum walked in the opposite direction, away from her.

“What is your problem with me? Did I do something to offend you, or are you just an asshole all the time?” she demanded.

Calum stopped, slowly turning around to face her.

“Excuse me?” he replied dangerously, taking a step towards her.

“Since the first time we met, you’ve acted like a complete jackass. Every time I see you, you either ignore me entirely or you try and scare me with that stupid badass attitude,” she paused. When he said nothing, she huffed in annoyance. “Get over yourself, pal. We all go through shit, there’s no need to be a dick about it.”

Parker was surprised at herself for her outburst, which was completely out of character for her. But Calum had pissed her off one too many times—he wasn’t getting away with it again. She placed a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.

The cocky smirk he wore turned into a menacing glare. He took two more steps towards her, their toes touching. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. He smelled incredible, like the woods, and spice, with a hint of smoke. Stop it, dumbass. You shouldn’t be thinking about how good he smells right now. His tall frame forced her to tilt her head back to look at him. His dark eyes glittered, but not in a kind way. He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Watch your mouth, doll,” he said threateningly.

Parker’s spine chilled, goosebumps raising along her arms and the back of her neck. His use of a pet name gave her butterflies, but she knew he didn’t mean it in an adoring way. Calum frightened her—this she already knew. But confronting him was clearly a bad idea, one she hadn’t thought through—she was stupid for getting on his bad side. It was obvious he wasn’t one to be messed with, and he definitely didn’t have any qualms about voicing his opinion.

The rest of her workday she spent thinking about their confrontation. The unsettling feeling Calum’s presence gave her weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know whether her feelings towards him were attraction, fear, or a dangerous mix of both.

• • • • • •

This girl was going to be the death of him. Calum had been stunned when Parker called him out this morning. He hadn’t expected it from her, of all people. She was usually so bright and cheery, going out of her way to be nice to him even when he lashed out at her. And even though her words made him angry, all he could think about was putting that mouth of hers to good use. Calum didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to keep this up. The more she pissed him off, the stronger the pull was to her. It was beginning to become difficult to deny that he felt things for Parker.

» » » » » »

Parker and Jenna were dancing the night away at a club downtown on Thursday night, much needed after working overtime hours this week. She had had one too many drinks, her head fuzzy and spinning. She had Friday off, and she was looking forward to nursing her hangover on the couch, curled up with her cat and watching Netflix. Parker excused herself to use the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to sober herself up a bit, and when she returned, Jenna was wrapped in the arms of a guy that was exactly Jenna’s type. It was getting late, and Parker was drunk; she wanted to go home.

“Hey, I’m gonna head home. You coming?”

“I think I might stay,” she said, obviously distracted by the handsome blonde dancing in front of her. She turned to Parker. “Unless you want me to come. Do you need me to come with you?” she asked.

Parker appreciated Jenna’s offer, but she knew she didn’t want to go. “No, you stay. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Parker turned to make her way off the dance floor. “Be good,” she added with a smug smile.

• • • • • •

Parker sat on the curb outside waiting for her cab. She should probably have waited inside the bar, but she had hoped the fresh air would sober her up a bit. Her head was still spinning, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. It had been at least fifteen minutes and she was beginning to get tired of waiting. She could probably have walked halfway home by now, so she stood on shaky legs and headed in the direction of her apartment. She silently thanked her sober self for picking sneakers over heels. It was a warm night, typical of August, but she pulled her denim jacket on anyway, not wanting to have to carry it.

Walking through a particularly sketchy area of downtown, Parker got an uneasy feeling in her gut that she was being followed. She chanced a quick glance over her shoulder, and her heart started pounding when she realized her suspicions were right. There were two men walking behind her, picking up their pace as she attempted to pick up her own, but her legs were still wobbly from the alcohol buzzing in her veins. She should have stayed and waited for the stupid cab.

“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” one of the men called out from behind her, his gravelly voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“Where’re you off to? We can take you home, honey,” the other one drawled, turning Parker’s stomach.

Parker all but broke into a run, desperate to make it onto the nearest busy street before they caught up to her. She could hear their footsteps closing in when a black 1970 Charger screeched to a halt at the curb. Parker stopped dead, panic setting in. Her instinct was to run, but her feet were frozen in fear. A hooded figure emerged from the car, slamming the door behind him. This is it, Parker thought. She prepared herself to fight back, but the three against one odds were not in her favour. The streetlights illuminated his face as the stranger approached her and Parker’s chest flooded with relief when she recognized those familiar brown eyes.

Calum.

On second thought, Parker wasn’t sure why she felt relieved to see Calum. She wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of him, or the two men following her. At least, she didn’t think Calum would hurt her. Would he?

“What the hell are you doing, walking around this neighbourhood at night by yourself?” he demanded, pushing his hood back.

“I—” she started, but Parker had to admit she didn’t have a good reason. It had been stupid to leave the club alone. She should have waited inside for the cab. “I don’t know,” she confessed sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No shit,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He turned back to the car. “Get in,” he commanded.

Parker looked behind her, but the two men were gone. She was relieved they had seemingly given up when they realized she wasn’t alone, but her heart was still pounding. Whether it was from her close call with them or being close to Calum, she didn’t know. She followed Calum to the car and opened the passenger door. The smell of leather and spice enveloped her when she sat down, and it was oddly comforting.

“What were you doing out there alone?” he repeated once they were in the car.

“I was out with my friend Jenna. I wanted to leave, but she didn’t, so I called a cab—but it never came so I just started walking,” she explained.

“You should know better,” Calum berated, irritated. “Where’s your place?” he asked shortly.

Parker told him her address. She briefly wondered if it was a good idea, him knowing where she lived, but it was too late now. He did just rescue me, she thought. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have left me alone in the street.

She leaned her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes as her drunken state overpowered her ability to stay awake.

Calum pulled the Charger onto Parker’s street and glanced sideways at the blonde passed out in his passenger seat.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. He got out of the car, opening her door and scooping her easily into his arms. She didn’t stir, but he could feel her breath against the bare skin on his neck. It tickled his skin, giving him goosebumps. She smelled like alcohol, and there was a faint trace of a flowery perfume. He carried Parker up the stairs of the front porch, using her key to unlock the door and stepping inside. He was greeted by a little grey cat meowing at his feet. He followed Calum through the house as he fumbled his way in the dark in search of Parker’s bedroom. He took a guess when he found the only room with a bed, setting her gently down and pulling the duvet over her.

Calum lingered in the doorway for a moment, his eyes scanning over her face, staring at her parted lips and then glancing at the cat that had curled up in a ball on the pillow next to her. She looked peaceful, and she was really kind of beautiful when she wasn’t running her mouth.

He let himself out, locking the door behind him and dropping into his Charger.

What the fuck are you doing, Cal, he thought to himself. He started the engine and peeled away from the curb. He drove for a while, no specific destination in mind, when he found himself parked outside of Ashton’s house. Subconsciously, he must have known he needed to talk things out with someone.

• • • • • •

He knocked sharply on the door, waiting impatiently. A few moments later, a tired-looking Ashton opened it, shirtless and in blue basketball shorts, his black hair in disarray from recent sleep.

“Cal?” he mumbled groggily. “What’s wrong?”

Calum pushed past him, walking to the kitchen to get himself a drink.

“It’s the middle of the night, man,” Ashton groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Ashton sighed in defeat, sinking down onto one of the barstools in his kitchen. Calum leaned against the island, downing his drink in one swallow.

“You were right. The other night, at the bar. The girl I was staring at.”

Ashton remained quiet, prompting him to continue. He couldn’t fathom why this couldn’t wait until the morning, but he didn’t tell Calum that.

“I think I have feelings for her. And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. She drives me insane and she gets me so riled up that I lash out at her every time I see her, but when she’s not around, I can’t stop thinking about her. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Ashton sighed, raking his hand through his messy hair. “Cut yourself some slack, Cal—this is new territory for you. There’s nothing wrong with you,” Ashton assured him.

“So why do I feel angry? Why do I keep trying to hurt her?”

“Maybe you’re just scared,” Ashton shrugged. “Opening up to someone puts you in a vulnerable position, and you don’t like losing control. You’re pushing her away ‘cause that’s all you’ve ever done, and maybe you’re angry because she’s making you feel unsteady.”

“Then how do I stop?” Calum questioned, feeling a little hopeless. Parker was kind, and gentle, and good, and Calum was none of those things—he didn’t deserve her. She was afraid of him—there was no way she was going to let her guard down around him after the way he’d treated her.

“You just have to let her in, man. You’ll never get a handle on your feelings if you don’t allow yourself to feel.”

» » » » » »

On Friday morning, Parker awoke with a hangover from hell. Her head felt like it had been split open, and her stomach was churning violently. She sat up, slowly, and noticed she was still in her clothes from the bar, minus her shoes. It was unlike her to collapse into bed without changing first. She checked her phone, several missed calls and texts from Jenna to make sure she got home safely. Then, the memories came flooding back to her. Calum brought her here. He must have tucked her into bed. He hates me—why would he do that? For the life of her, Parker could not figure him out.

taglist: @treatallwithkindness

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s3tracha · 5 years

Text

Paranormal... activities ?

Am I capable of naming my stories ? Probably, if I tried. Do I try ? Absolutely not.

Hewwo evewyone, I usually never post my writing on sideblogs and such but look, this sideblog is for the boys, there’s a challenge specifically for the boys, I’m not about to post it on my writing sideblog. Nobody follows it anyway and I’m not a fool

I know I’m not posting this in time. :3c

Summary: in short, the adventures of Minho and Jisung in the abandoned house.

Content warning: I don’t think there’s any warning to be given ? It’s supposed to be spooky month but it’s more humourous than anything ! I guess there’s some cussing though. And maybe bad English, redundant phrasing, #notanativespeakergang.

Reblogs are very much appreciated - and if you wanna add commentary in the tags or replies you’re more than welcome to do so !

[4:12 pm]

“ You know what ? This is going to be so much fun. No, really, we’re about to have a great time - why would we not enjoy it ? We’re paranormal investigators ! Surely, it can’t go wrong. “

[11:43 pm]

“ This is the worst thing we’ve ever done. “

“ Mh. “

“ This is so, so not fun at all. “

“ Mh. “

“ I hate everything about this. I wanna go home. Can we go home ? “

“ Mh. “

“ … Are you listening to me ? “

“ Mh. “

With that last response, Jisung frowned and looked back at his friend. … Silence. Minho was completely silent. Mouth agape, eyes kind of glaring at everything and nothing at the same time, his hand holding onto Jisung’s arm pretty tightly now that he was paying attention to it… What, really ? He was going to have to be the driving force here ? Not that he wasn’t already aware of that, but… ah, geez. The younger teen took a few seconds before exhaling a soft sigh and looking around them again.

Minho’s reaction was understandable. The house wasn’t only abandoned, it looked awful ! Like the walls were rotting ( and he was pretty sure that wasn’t something walls usually did but he couldn’t attest to this if questioned about it ), the floor was much dirtier than any damn house floor should be… Weird, unsettling paintings everywhere, clothes here and there, so many broken glass bottles he couldn’t count them - some of them hadn’t been finished and the liquid which he could only assume to be alcohol had given the place quiet a stench. Terror was a pretty appropriate reaction to a place like this. He’d seen places that were less scary to sleep at.

Maybe sending them both together hadn’t been the greatest idea but he hadn’t considered the cons hard enough before agreeing. And even if he hadn’t agreed, he couldn’t have changed it.

As a full team, they were nine, rotating in two pairs each time and trying to not send the same two people all the time. The two who’d investigate were chosen randomly and, sometimes the same person could go twice in a row… As a result, this was Minho’s third time this month. Needless to say, going with Chan and then Hyunjin hadn’t been very beneficial to his already very pronounced fear of… pretty much everything. When it wasn’t the ghosts and demons and whatnot scaring him, it was the other boy present with him. With Hyunjin it wasn’t necessarily intentional, Hyunjin was just… loud at the wrong time.

Maybe agreeing to being paranormal investigators along with their entire friend group had been a mistake in itself… Couldn’t really back out anymore.

Now Jisung wasn’t exactly the most reassuring presence either but for an entirely different reason: though not as scared as himself, he was just… more pressure. He wasn’t scared as much as he was stressed and tried to play it off like he wasn’t, obviously and maybe that made it worse. Either way, Minho was both terrified and spacing out.

Great. Truly, the most fun they’d have in their entire life.

“ Uh, so, about the occurrences… Seungmin said we should be able to hear footsteps and some whispers here, the whispers would come from a crying man, and maybe he can move stuff too so… “ Jisung spoke again, his voice shaking slightly as he tried to bring himself back on the right track. The track of not being scared for the sake of his poor friend who clearly still wasn’t listening to him.

“ Poor guy passed of heartbreak after his wife took the kids and left… Maybe he’s not that mean. Maybe– maybe he won’t try to scare us, y’know… “

He trailed off, eventually just keeping to himself. Kind of forgot where he was going with this anyway. He was more focused on observing their surroundings while Minho was seemingly finally coming back to his senses - and with a small gasp and his other hand now holding Jisung’s arm as well, he shook his head to make sure he was, at last, processing things right.

“ Great, so, what’s up with the footsteps then ? “ He immediately asked, trying to take a look around as well. The least he could do.

“ Oh, dude had a pet dog that let itself die after his owner passed… “

“ A dog ? “

“ And a cat. But dog footsteps are louder than cat footsteps. “

“ Of course they are. “

Minho rolled his eyes, shaking his head again with a sigh. That earned Jisung another frown. “ What ? It’s true ! “

“ Mh. “

Ugh, great. The boy stared for a few seconds before sighing in his turn. Was there really no way to put the other in a good mood ? Well, the setting probably didn’t help either, but now that was just getting upset over a problem that didn’t even exist. So he was afraid of ghosts but cat ghosts are fine ? Ridiculous ! For one, he was scared of both equally.

Still, as much as he hated doing this - and especially doing this with Minho -, he at least wanted the atmosphere to not be tense for no reason at all. He had to fix it. He had to make something up on the spot and then the others would make fun of him for it when they’d hear about it. Yup.

“ W- well, I’d forgotten about that but… Um, Seungmin also said that… that you can– I mean, sometimes, rarely, you can hear… uh… the cat ! You can hear it ! “

An admirable attempt. Maybe the other’s face lit up a little at the words, too.

“ He said that ? “

“ Yeah ! If we’re lucky… I mean, maybe lucky isn’t the right word but we can hear it meow ! And… purr… and scratch the walls…? “

“ You’re kidding, of course lucky’s the right word ! Okay, where do we start ? “

The sudden enthusiasm from his previously mortified friend sure managed to throw Jisung off. Once again staring for a few seconds, time for him to think of something to answer with and to deal with how easily his lies had been eaten up, god he’d hate himself if Minho found out he lied, he eventually seemed to gain all of his confidence back and flashed a bright smile. One of those smiles that make it seem like he’s not only confident, but cocky about it as well.

“ I suggest we… go separate ways to visit ! So we can get it all done fa– “

“ Pass, next. “

“ Wha– Why ? I thought we were good ! “ Jisung exclaimed, visibly taken aback once again. Was this ever going to make any sense ?

“ So long as I haven’t heard the cat I’m not gonna be any good and I certainly don’t wanna be left alone here,” Minho retorted, his grip on Jisung’s arm not loosening. “ Chan tried. I left the building. “

“ But Chan’s an ass when we’re investigating, and I’m not ! “ He knew he wasn’t changing anybody’s mind. “ Ah, fine. But we’re gonna have to stay awake muuuch longer. “

Minho shrugged. “ Fine. I got snacks in my bag. “

“ Well, cool. “

“ Yeah. “

Silence. Jisung was pulling a face. Minho was looking around, though this time probably more avoiding Jisung’s face than actually looking around. Jisung considered the possibility of them doing standup comedy rather than paranormal investigation in the future, with how comical every situation they got into ended up being, but that probably wouldn’t really pay bills… not that paranormal investigation did though. Oh, and they had all of this on tape, right. He’d kind of forgotten they had cameras.

The silence kept on going before Jisung of course it’d be him gave in and gestured vaguely. “ I guess we’re gonna start with… downstairs. That’s not where the guy died apparently so we shouldn’t see anything but we can still hear the footsteps, and the sobs. But we’d hear them better upstairs so for now– “

Cut off by a door slamming, followed by the both of them screaming and Jisung almost dropping the camera he was holding. And silence again. Two weak hearts needed some time to calm down and assess the new state of things, which was different in one way: a door, they did not know which nor where it was, was now closed.

This time, rather than talk, Jisung went and started walking again, Minho being forcibly dragged along despite how reluctant he might’ve been had he been able to be a little more responsive. The lights strapped to his and the other boy’s foreheads were probably the things he was most grateful for at the moment…

Their quiet investigation kept on going until after they’d gone around the kitchen. It had been quick, given the putrid smell they really wanted to get away from as quickly as possible.

Then Jisung laughed.

“ That sure was something, huh ? “ Not an ounce of confidence in his voice. Definitely faking it still though.

“ Sure was, “ Minho muttered, nose slightly scrunched up from the smell still, “ and also I don’t think I wanna see what the restroom’s like so let’s skip it. “

“ Yeah, okay. “

He’d already avoided some rooms with Jeongin once. They just pretended they lost the footage when asked about it. Surely that didn’t only happen when he was part of the investigation, right ? Eh, whatever. He’d just cut off the footage they already had so it’d seem like they opened the door.

“ Okay, anyway… Hello, ghosts ! I am incredibly NOT scared of you, and you can’t do anything to me ! “ Oh, here’s the bravado. “ Let’s just talk and have some tea, and maybe some snacks and– “

“ No, wait. Shh. “

He raised an eyebrow but complied. Something he had feared was Minho being the one to notice something, because who knew how Minho would react to anything ? If he noticed something first he could at least anticipate his reaction. Not his own, but… that was less of a problem, as surprising as it might’ve been given he wasn’t too relaxed either.

And then it came… the footsteps. Jisung felt not only himself going stiff, but Minho as well - his grip tightening on the poor boy’s arm who ended up wincing in pain instead of focusing on the noise.

“ Does… Does the dog attack ? “ Minho whispered, voice shaking slightly.

“ I… No, “ Jisung answered just as quietly, “ please don’t cut off my blood circulation. “

“ Does the dog go upstairs ? “

“ I don’t… think s– Hey, stop ! “

Here they were, rushing to the staircase, and it was Jisung’s turn to be forcefully dragged there since Minho wouldn’t release his arm.

“ Come on, that’s crazy ! There’s a dead man’s ghost on this floor, it isn’t any better ! “ Jisung tried to argue, mentally attempting to rationalise anything they would do in the next eight hours aside from sleeping very uncomfortably and complaining about it.

“ I don’t care, if you don’t know a dog you never know how it can react, everybody knows that ! “

Jisung groaned. Why did things have to be this way ? He’d almost dropped the camera again, if this kept on going like this he’d definitely lose it.

“ … Besides, I sure hope you can’t find any… alive people’s ghosts, “ Minho continued. “ What’s a “dead man’s ghost” ? Redundant. That’s what it is. “

“ Oh, whatever - you got what I meant ! “

Silence should be the third main character given how often it appears but here it is, the silence. More looking around, and kind of… trying to walk around as well, though Jisung wasn’t very into it despite the brave act he’d put on just a few minutes ago.

“ So now that we’re here… Um, we’re supposed to sleep in the kids’ room, “ he explained, trying to figure out which one of these equally dull doors led to the room in question. “ The guy’s ghost never leaves his room but he makes stuff move, so… if you hear chairs moving in the middle of the night… “

“ Yeah, I get the gist of it. “ Pause. “ And I don’t like it one bit. “

“ Guess it’s good you’re with me then, “ a response which prompted a nervous snort. “ Hey, what does that mean ? “

“ Nothing. Let’s get going. “

The next minutes were spent visiting the rooms, trying not to touch things and remaining careful of any noises they might hear. Nothing just yet, aside from the footsteps from before, and even the man’s bedroom seemed pretty okay ! Well, aside from the smell, once again. The kids’ bedroom didn’t smell as bad from what Jisung could remember of the maybe two minutes they’d spent ‘visiting’ it.

“ Hey, look at this, “ Minho called out from the end of Jisung’s arm. “ There’s a journal on the desk. It was left open. “

“ Oh, sick, let’s read it. “

And with this, the two boys jumped onto the journal. Perhaps that wasn’t the best call though ; a few seconds into it and the chair was suddenly thrown into them, reminding them they were kind of invading the privacy of an actual ghost… and yes, they ran out of the room.

Next step was locking themselves up in the kids’ room, quickly setting up their sleeping bags all while remaining glued to each other, each whispering a different list of swears and prayers before Minho spoke up with a desperate “ Man, what the hell ! “, and Jisung responding as desperately with “ I don’t know, dude ! “.

They let themselves plop down on Minho’s sleeping bag. Panting, Jisung dropping the hand-held camera to hold the other just as tight as he was being held, overall looking very comfortable with the situation they were in.

“ It moved. Right. “ Minho asked, though it was more of a statement.

“ Rammed into my legs, yes. “

“ I should’ve been the one to take it, I pointed to the journal... Sorry about that. “

“ Nah... It’s good. I shouldn’t have tried to read it. I could’ve left it alone or something... Not your fault we’re both kinda stupid. “

Jisung trailed off again, slowly resting his head on the older boy’s shoulder and giving up. That was what it was, giving up that act he was putting on so Minho would relax more, now he just wanted to…

“ Didn’t you say something about going home ? “

“ I did… I mean it more now though. “

“ Thought so... Me too. “

[2:37 am]

“ Okay, so… the cameras are set up, with the audio recording. “

“ Correct. “

“ The door and window are closed even though there’s this uh, kind of inconvenient hole in the wall here. “

“ Uhuh. “

“ And you got snacks. “

“ I do. “

“ Then does that mean we get to sleep now ? Shouldn’t get much worse than that… “ Jisung’s sentenced ended with a yawn.

“ Guess you’re right. “ Minho’s voice was as disheartened as it could possibly get. It hadn’t been much but the both of them were drained.

Jisung sighed and took the frontal camera off along with the light, setting it next to the sleeping bag then looking back at his friend, waiting for him to do the same. And he didn’t.

“ … You won’t take it off ? “

“ You never know what can happen - and in case something does happen I need to be prepared. “ Minho turned the frontal light back on as to prove his point, blinding Jisung in the process. “ Dude, you didn’t have to. “

“ Did too ! I let you get hurt once, what am I gonna look like if you get hurt a second time and I do nothing about it ? I’d rather die. “

“ No, I meant... You didn’t have to flash it in my eyes like that. “

“ Oh. “

Silence is back.

“ Sorry. “

“ I’m not mad, don’t worry. “

Minho hummed softly, turning the light back off before slipping into his bag, and all Jisung could do was… watch.

“ Thanks for what you said though. I’d rather you don’t die if possible, three ghosts is enough for one house... “

That earned Minho a small chuckle as he looked back at his friend. He had that sleepy smile on his face but, as comforting as that smile was, he didn’t find it in himself to smile back truthfully. Something about this place just made him sad, he didn’t really like it and the prospect of sleeping in a bag by himself wasn’t really something he fancied either.

The other boy just waited. They were staring at each other for a few minutes with very different thoughts crossing their minds. For Jisung, it was a weird form of separation anxiety despite them sleeping in the same room ; for Minho it was a 13 minute long cat compilation. No thoughts, head empty… only cat. Jisung didn’t move, neither did Minho, but Jisung seemed much more inconvenienced sitting next to the other boy who was arguably comfortably lying down ready to sleep.

More silence. Then Jisung slipping into Minho's sleeping bag as well, snuggling up to his friend - warmth was truly the best way to feel safer. Minho said nothing. Instead of words, he responded with an embrace. A lazy one. He wasn't holding tightly onto Jisung anymore, it was rather relaxed... For the first time of the evening, Minho had relaxed, which only comforted his friend more.

" Night. "

[3:54 am]

... " Minho. Minho ? Hey, dude-- please wake up. "

" Mh... What ? It's late, why won't you let me... "

" I'm feeling something on me. Something that I don't think is your leg. It... it vibrates a little. Oh god. It’s a demon. There’s my sleep paralysis demon sleeping on me. I’m going to die. I’m sorry, Minho, I’m gonna have to leave you- "

Flash. A small noise came from the... mass that was lying on Jisung, then two tiny ears perked up, followed by a meow. Quite the terrifying demon.

“ ... It’s a cat, “ Jisung observed, slowly coming down from his panicked state, while Minho had already sat up to pet the small animal.

“ If your sleep paralysis demon’s a cat, I’m willing to get sleep paralysis. “

“ No, no ! It’s... fine. I had no idea it was a cat... “

Great way to make a fool of himself but it wasn’t like it was the first time, nor did Minho really seem to mind now that he had something to hold onto to keep calm.

“ I wonder how it got in, we kept the door and window closed... “

" Ah, uh. Maybe the small hole. "

" I guess that’d make sense. Well, now that’s settled... We should just go back to sleep, yeah ? “

" Yeah... " Jisung muttered.

That wasn’t something he’d expected. A cat... Maybe that was just how Minho was ? Capable of attracting nearby cats ? He’d never thought that’d be something he’d one day be grateful for, and yet here they were. This cat would be the key to a good night’s sleep, guaranteed, with the purring soothing him and the warmth... Again, warmth helping him feel safe. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

[5:26 pm]

“ You lost all the footage ? All of it ? “

The seven boys were glaring. Ouch, that kind of hurt, didn’t it ? While not all of them were as serious as Chan, it was kind of hard on Jisung... Lying to everyone like that, could they do it ?

“ Oh, we sure did, “ he responded with that good ol’ fake confident smile, maintaining eye contact to the extreme, “ we’re all out of footage for the day ! “

“ Yeah, cameras said there was no space left before we were done filming and deleted everything stored in it. Sorry. “

Apparently, Minho could do it better than him without much trouble.

“ But instead, I’ve got something even better !”

Lo and behold, there’s a fucking cat in his coat ! Gasps coming from the younger boys and Changbin, Woojin aww-ing and Chan having to give it to him, getting a cat out of an investigation was pretty cool, the proud look on Minho’s face could not be more relieving to his more anxious friend.

“ I’m taking her home by the way, but I’ll let Jisung pick the name with me - don’t be too jealous, I’ll send you videos of her. “

They’d gotten one good thing out of this night. Jisung had gotten way with lying about the ghost of that cat. And... well, they’d gotten away with deleting the footage themselves, though they didn’t review it before doing so. How unfortunate that they didn’t see the man’s ghost petting the cat while they slept - that would’ve made their day !

#stayshub #han jisung #lee minho #lee know #stray kids #stray kids drabbles #tho idk if 3k+ words really count as a drabble...#minsung #fuck if i know how to tag fics i don't !! i do not !!!#it's my first time writing as them so i'm sorry about... everything T_T

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vegandoughnut · 5 years

Text

PART 6, NEXT DAY: Rewind, Play, Paws

"The weather is gross guys. Why does Stephen want us to put the chalk sign out?" Says Kumlyun, snuggled up in her signature oversized turtleneck and matching beanie, sitting on the floor and filling the stoneware cat bowls for pre-opening. Next to her, tall tomboy Harper was petting the mewling and purring cats, all excited about their salmon, tuna and chicken breakfasts. This was the vibe happening at the one and only Furistas Cat Cafe.

"Oh my gosh, Kitt, that nail color looks amazing on you" says Kumlyun to Kitt, who bent down on the floorboards to scrub out some cat footprint stains.

"Thanks so much Kumi. It's called Runs With Wolves by SpaRitual. Supposed to be organic or something" says Kitt, dropping the dirty sponge she used onto a yellow dust pan. "I just like this magicky shade of copper. It sings to my melanin"

"Is that shade name inspired by the new-agey feminist book that was all the rage like a decade ago?" Kumlyun asks.

"Women Who Run With The Wolves" cuts in Harper, in a voice that said: put some respect on its name.

"Okay, this is a cat cafe ladies. Can we talk about cats?" Pradeep says as he joins them on the floor with a tray of espresso shots. "Wolves are so 2008. Drink up. It's gonna be a long day. We have a group event"

"Ugh" says Kumlyun, closing up a bag of fresh, expensive organic cat food. About Pradeep or the news? Who knew. "I saw that in the email this morning. I usually like events but why would a group show up on the rainiest day? They're going to track mud. With our luck it'll be a crew of total weirdos who'll do it almost on purpose"

"Um, we are the total weirdos" says Harper, brushing cat fur either onto or off of her paint splattered cream overalls. "This whole place is a weirdo. And besides, the welcome mat will take care of the wet feet"

Kumlyun, Pradeep, Kitt and Harper all take espresso shots together.

"Okay, we need to put up the umbrella bags stand" says Harper. It was clearly an attempt at bossing. Kitt stirred uncomfortably. Pradeep perked up.

"Let me get the bags. The cats are fed" he says, heading to the back of the cafe and downstairs to the storage room.

After the morning meeting with Stephen their superviser-slash-boss and Boris their elusive manager, and everyone obtaining their schedules and arriving at the last minute, the day unfolds.

While the rain pours outside and the cool Fall air rattles the windows, the cafe is warm, with a soft glow, the aromas of coffee and waffles masks the smell of clean cats and cozy chairs and carpets. Fall leaves decorations hang on the walls and litter the corners. Cat shaped muffins and cookies sit on display behind steamy glass on the bar counter.

"So, Stephen finally made Harper, you know, his fellow Portland weirdo, assistant supervisor" says Kitt as she prepares a bowl of oatmeal for a customer.

"Saw that one coming" says Pradeep with a scowl as he closes the lid on the waffle maker. It makes a hissing sounds that almost compliments their hushed conversation.

"Of all people. He knows how much Harper got on our nerves in the first place, looking for any reason to LARP as boss" Kitt continues, loosening her cotton knit scarf with its cat paws at the ends. "We're short staffed today"

"Carl is sick. Apparently that's why he was feeling dizzy yesterday. I overheard Boris on the phone with him when I was in the storage room"

"Oh, poor baby" says Kitt. "I was missing his face"

"You missed my face more"

"Maybe"

"Hey, tweety 1 and tweety 2" says Kumlyun.

"Wait...."

"Yeah lovebirds. So, we ran out of pecans"

"Kumi, the rain won't hurt you, homegirl. You got that bone straight Korean hair. And besides, Pradeep has a cold" says Kitt.

The customers swipe their cards at the registers while the baristas chat and process the transactions at the same time.

"I do?" Says Pradeep.

"Always believe Kitt. She never lies. Never ever. No. Not even to avoid getting her brand new Doc Martens wet" says Kumlyun, unfastening her waist apron to go change into her raincoat. "See you two later. Don't make me miss the wedding and the baby" she says, blowing a kiss and walking away.

"HR, Kumlyun. That's HR" says Kitt with a pursed smile. Pradeep discreetly smacks Kitt's hip behind the counter.

"You hear that Kitt? You're already pregnant. Amazing what my face can do" he says. The 3 laugh as Kumlyun heads out the door with her umbrella.

"Hey, we drove the darn truck yesterday. We are always sent off on outside missions. It's about time we send other coworkers" says Kitt.

"Yeah" says Pradeep with a sigh. "Literally Harper is supposed to handle all that stuff and leave the kitchen and cats to us but whatever. You know how this place is run"

"Axe backwards" says Kitt.

"Yup" says Pradeep, undoing and then redoing his shiny topknot. Kitt mimics him, pulling up her long burgundy dreads into a very high ponytail.

"I like this little color scheme you got going. You look like Target's seasonal decor line" Pradeep teases. Kitt pinches his arm. "Ow!"

"Meow" Kitt mocks.

"Ow"

"Meow"

"What's going on here?" Comes Harper's voice. "Everything okay? I know we're short staffed and all but you know, the image is really important"

Kitt and Pradeep continue working, albeit quietly, pretending not to hear her.

A few guests sit with their paired cats. Feeding them treats, teasing them with toys and giving them much needed tender love and care. Jazzy music plays on the speakers, setting the mood.

Humbert, whom no one seemed to notice all morning, and quite intentionally, was doing floor duty, handing guests their personal info card lanyards on which they'd scribble their names, occupations and personality types for matching them with one of the cafe's cats.

The door opens-- and just as Humbert was about to shove a lanyard with an index card attached in front of the incoming guest, Kumlyun, dripping and flushed, carrying a grocery canvas tote appears in the doorway, kicking her wet sneakers on the doormat.

"Okay I need to go downstairs" she says, rushing past. As she goes down the stairs to storage, having already dropped off some supplies at the bar, she overhears Stephen on the phone through the wall:

"We don't really have a dress code. Just don't look like a Skid Row..... or like you just woke up in a park with a rat..... you should be fine. No, please no. This is a cat cafe for ....... sake"

Kumlyun covers her mouth to stifle the raucous laughter that shook her entire frame.

TBC

#furistas cat cafe fan fiction #furistas cat cafe #furistas #cat cafe #cat cafe fan fic #fan fic #runaway mobile games #mobile game fan fiction #mobile game fan fic #kumlyun #kitt #pradeep

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sour--strawberries · 6 years

Text

Meow Cafe, part 12

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: Figaro universe, cat cafe!au - Tony works as a barista in a cat cafe and Steve is totally smitten by him and Tony’s overly fluffy cat, Figaro

summary: The big opening of the new Meow Cafe is finally happening!

length: 5 791 words

warnings: this fic belongs to Figaro universe, not focused on tickling, but has some from time to time (some this time)

a/n: FINAL CHAPTER IS HERE! I hope you like it and look at the end for a special surprise! if you enjoyed this series, remember to like, reblog and send me your final thoughts, would love to hear how you liked this love and cat story!

———–

Meow Cafe, part 12

(part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11)

The work on new Meow Cafe was going smoothly and after another month it was fully furnished and equipped, sparkling new and clean, ready to accept cats and customers. Yet, the final and hardest test remained the one that would define everything.

"He is coming! He is coming!" Janet jumped away from the window, almost entangling herself in the curtains in the process. "The inspector is coming!!" she shrilled, cheeks becoming flushed from the nervous atmosphere.

"Calm down, Jan," Bruce advised, standing behind the bar, next to Pepper who was sipping some coffee.

"What if he won't like the cafe?! What if we did something wrong?! We will have to start all over again!!" Janet panicked further, skipping to Bruce and flailing arms in panic.

"He will like it, we did everything fine---"

"AND WHAT IF WE DIDN'T?!" Janet roared, grabbing Bruce by the collar and almost dragging him out from the bar area. Before Pepper had to intervene, there was a gentle sound of a bell ringing, indicating that someone pushed the door open. The inspector arrived.

"Hi!" Janet immediately let go of Bruce and turned around, her angry scowl turning into a welcoming smile. The girl needed only one second to change her mood dramatically. There was probably some medical term for that, but it wasn't important. "Welcome to Meow Cafe!"

The inspector seemed unfazed. He put his nose up and sniffed, still smelling some of the paint. Tony and Steve walked behind the inspector and smiled nervously at the crew gathered near the bar area.

"Glad you could find time for us," Pepper smiled, greeting their guest. "Janet will show you around," she said, needing to find the over-energetic girl some task, or she might kill them all.

"Of course!" Janet nodded enthusiastically, and the tour started.

The inspector took his time and went meticulously through every inch of Meow Cafe. The new furniture was met with approval, soft and inviting both for cats and humans. The big window had a nice warm spot where the sun was shining, perfect for naps. The new cat shelves were great, placed all over the cafe, with some tunnels between them for double the fun, all in nice, pastel, bright colors and with soft carpet on the top for double kitty comfort. The inspector tested the cat door leading to the cat room, full of cat beds and bowls and more shelves, and a comfy, old couch near the wall, Bruce found on a yard sale. The best was left for last. The playground. It had to be tested to accommodate all kitty needs and shapes and weights and ages, and the inspector examined every toy and shelf and cushion and every scratch pole. It took long, nervous minutes and everyone was getting anxious, trying to hold it in and not rush anything. In the end, the inspector came back to the bar area, looking as mysterious as when the tour started.

"Can I interest you in something to drink?" Janet asked friendly, hoping that it will earn them some additional points.

One, slowly drank, bowl of milk later, the inspector looked around the new cafe and sat his fluffy butt down on the floor. The moment was prolonging and Figaro licked around his mouth, getting the last drops of milk. Immediately, everyone looked to Tony, who had been sitting on the couch with Steve, waiting for translation.

Tony, trying to not choke on his own laughter, knowing how serious everyone was treating the situation, smiled and spread his arms. "He likes it!" he announced.

The Meow Cafe's crew cheered and Figaro closed his eyes in content. Yes, he could imagine his cat friends being comfortable in this new place.

***

"Hi! Welcome! So glad you could come!"

Steve was leaning against the bar and he couldn't keep the smile out of his face. Finally, the day came and it was the grand opening of the new Meow Cafe. Tomorrow, the cafe would be open for all customers while this was the opening for friends and family and people who adopted the cafe's pupils. Steve saw Pepper talking to the older couple, a marriage that had adopted his favorite Little Eye, Blondie and Crazeh, and chatting with the girl with blue eyes and dark bangs, one that gave a home to Shandi. Near the playground and watching the cats inside were three girls plus Janet, excitedly cooing over the cats and commenting how cute they were. Steve didn't know their names, but guessed that the chubby one with long, wavy hair in the middle was the one who adopted Cow, on her right was a girl with asymmetric hair in an unusual rusty orange color, Ariel's owner, and at the left was the one with long blond hair, tied in a bun, and by the hair, Steve made a connection that it was Rapunzel (whose real name still remained unknown), the one who adopted Tsuki. On one of the couches, was Sam and Rhodey, talking to a burly blond, who, as it turned out was neither William or Thud, but Thor, Gizmo's rightful owner, who had brought his brother along, a lanky dark-haired man, staying away from everyone and preferring to put his all attention on the cat in his lap. Steve focused on the cat for a bit. It was a striped tabby with white socks, looking suspiciously similar to Crazeh, although smaller and more muscular, enjoying a long petting session. The new cafe was much bigger than the previous one and could host up to fifteen cats instead of six. Currently, in the cafe was a lucky thirteen of cats. And Steve had to learn the names of all of them.

"That's Cajetan," someone said and Steve looked at Natasha who appeared out of nowhere. As the person who adopted Oliver, she was also invited to the first opening. "He is almost two years old, Bruce says that he is one of the youngest cats here."

Steve nodded and smiled. He could imagine that Bruce was excited as Tony was with all the new cats, but while Tony tend to blab a lot and change from one cat to the other, making it hard to keep track and memorize, Bruce had to be a better source of information.

"Tuma," Natasha pointed up at the cat shelves, where a beautiful tortoiseshell girl was looking down at everyone with her yellow-green eyes. "Pi Shu," on a shelf just below Tuma was another cat, this one resembling Cow a little bit, also black and white and green-eyed, looking at everyone suspiciously, "watch out for her, she gives love bites."

Steve laughed, not at all bothered by kitty love bites. Maybe in the past he did consider it a problem, but not anymore.

"Oh, and there is Zeus," Natasha smiled at the lean cat, a mix of calico and Siamese with unusually bright blue eyes sprinting between their legs to get to the cat's room. "Chased by Little Girl," she laughed, when a grayish-white blur followed Zeus, as both cats were playing with each other. "And there is my favorite, Clawson," Natasha's voice softened and she pointed at the window sill, where stretched out was a big, orange cat, the senior of the group, reaching almost fifteen years old, as finding homes for senior cats was still an important mission for Meow Cafe. Steve saw a resemblance to Oliver and it became clear why this particular cat became Nat's favorite. Maybe if things turn out well, Oliver will get a brother.

"Hey, you almost got them all," Steve looked at his friend, grateful for the short introduction.

"Yeah, almost," Natasha leaned out a little bit, seeing Clint, sitting on the floor and dangling a mouse on a stick in front of two cats, a honey striped cat, and an orange tabby. Izzy and Menina. Izzy was a four years old boy and Menina was an older lady, almost fourteen, but was as playful and energetic as the three times younger Izzy. Clint was laughing and looked perfectly happy, observing cats attempt to get the mice, and sometimes letting them nibble on the toy.

Steve counted the cats they saw so far. Two in the cat's room, six in the cafe area. That meant, that five more were somewhere around. His eyes went to the playground and he saw a small black cat, happily napping on one of the pillows.

"That's Kashi, right?" Steve asked Natasha, trying to remember some of the cats on his own. From what Tony told him, Kashi was a very shy kitty lady and preferred to stay in the playground area, approaching everyone with caution.

"Yeah, it is," Natasha confirmed, and laughed at a gray cat, walking back and forth through one of the tunnels, looking very happy, until the calico one with bright yellow eyes decided to make a surprise and jump on the tunnel, temporarily cutting off the entrance, until the cat wiggled out backwards, to the amusement of the three girls observing the cats. Poor Fezzick, attacked by Lina. Seemed that the younger cats had no respect for their older colleagues. Speaking of younger cats, on numerous fluffy pillows and gently pawing a toy mouse was Amber, gray and with golden eyes, the baby of the cat group, reaching one year. "I think that Celia is also in the playground---"

"Do you need anything?"

"We are good, Bruce," Natasha smiled at her unofficially second boyfriend. Bruce's hair seemed even curlier than usual, as he was rushing in the bar area, pouring coffee after coffee for all of their guests. Even his glasses seemed steamed.

"BRUCE!" Janet roared, appearing suddenly in the bar area, and leaning in to see how the coffee making was going, an empty tray propped against her hip, almost falling to the ground. Immediately, Bruce started to slap her away gently, because Pepper didn't approve of jumping against the sparkly new bar and chipping the paint off. "Our guests need coffee!"

"And we need more cake!" Tony yelled, waltzing past the small group, swiftly collecting empty coffee cups left on the tables. The coffee place was becoming more crowded, as more people who adopted the cats over the two years of Meow Cafe existence were showing up. Pepper basically stood by the door and greeted the new groups, guiding them briefly over the cafe before resuming her position.

"Hi, handsome!"

Steve yelped, and jumped up a little bit, when someone, undoubtedly Tony, while circling and collecting plates and cups, playfully slapped his ass. He only saw Tony's grin as his barista walked away to bus some tables.

"Then you two should come here and help me," Bruce replied through clenched teeth in a deep voice, keeping a low profile, unlike his colleges. Steve had to admit, that the seemingly harmless brunet seemed a lot more threatening out of sudden.

"You have help!" Jan exclaimed, stacking the coffee cups on a tray. "We left you with the new guy!"

New guy? Steve sipped his coffee, looking more alert. Tony didn't tell him that the person who was supposed to fill in for him started the job.

"NEW GUY! Move it!" Jan yelled, almost jumping over the bar and again, but being held back by Bruce.

"I am coming, I am coming!"

The door leading to the kitchen opened, and Steve's eyes widened when he saw a familiar figure with about dozen plates with neatly cut pieces of carrot cake.

"Bucky?!" Steve exclaimed, or would have, if he didn't have a mouthful of coffee and the liquid spilled from his mouth and trickled down his chin. Luckily, Natasha was alert and pressed a napkin to his mouth before any coffee could reach his shirt, but Steve still heard Tony's pearly laughter somewhere in the distance. For being such a neat person in general, Steve was a huge spiller.

"As for a place that's supposed to be relaxing, you guys are awfully nervous," Bucky grumbled, making his way out of the bar, sporting a Meow Cafe apron worn over black jeans and buttoned shirt, "hi Nat, Steve. Have some cake," Bucky smiled cheekily and slid two plates over the bar. Once again it was up to Natasha to save the moment and catch both plates, as Steve was still too stunned to move.

"Less chit chat more work!" Janet urged, putting some cups of coffee on the empty place on the tray. "Our guests are waiting for coffee! You need to step up your game if you want to work here, you have some big shoes to fill in! Well, metaphorically big shoes, because Tony has tiny feet---"

Steve saw Bucky quickening his pace, clearly escaping from chattering Janet, who followed him closely, talking his ears off. Bucky working at a cat cafe. That was something Steve didn't expect. Clearly, Bucky's fondness for cats ran deeper than Steve thought…

"Let's go and sit," Natasha gently bumped shoulders with Steve's and pushed two plates with cakes into his hands, as she took their coffee. They went to the couch, the same one where Sam, Rhodey and Thor were sitting on, leaving Bruce on coffee duty and giving him some off time. Steve glanced at the back, and saw Tony making his way into the bar area, and taking out clean coffee cups out of the washing machine. Seemed that he won't be able to spend any time with Tony today… After all, it was the opening, a big day for everybody.

When Steve and Natasha made it to the couch, Bucky was serving the last pieces of cake, the very last one going to Sam.

"Saved you the biggest one, doll," he winked at his boyfriend and Sam beamed a proud smile.

"You managed to lose Janet?" Natasha asked with a teasing grin, sitting in the big armchair.

"She stopped to play with Cajetan and talk to that weird, sad kid," Bucky explained.

"That weird kid happens to be my brother," Thor sent Bucky an intimidating look, which lost a lot of threatening power, as the guy stuffed his mouth with carrot cake and had some icing around his lips.

"He is weird," Bucky repeated, totally unfazed.

"I think he is interesting," Natasha smiled, peaking at the man with the small cat in his lap.

"You guys don't seem alike," Steve put in his comment. It was obvious that siblings didn't always resemble each other, but at least they had similarities. Thor, was big and muscled and had a seemingly sunny personality. His brother was smaller in posture, pale and had black hair, and didn't seek company and clearly didn't feel well surrounded by people.

"He is my stepbrother," Thor explained in a small voice, still sounding a bit wounded and sending hurt looks towards Bucky.

"You really shouldn't be the one to judge people! Remember how we met? I gave you five dollars because I thought you were living on the street!" Sam laughed, putting his fork into the carrot cake and taking a bite.

"What?!" everyone exclaimed, as Bucky froze in silent panic.

"You told me you bumped into Sam on a street!" Steve accused Bucky. Another hidden secret. His friend was asking for a long talk.

"You need to tell us!" Natasha smiled wide and evil, crossing her legs for a more comfortable position.

"I am glad to know I wasn't the first one to think he was a homeless guy," Rhodey laughed.

"Believe me, you were not the first one," Steve shook his head. It happened more often than he would like to admit to, but well, that was his best friend.

"There is nothing to tell---" Bucky tried to cut the topic off, but Sam already started.

"I saw him at the subway station. He was sitting on the floor and playing guitar, so I stopped and gave him five dollars to buy himself something warm to eat. And then he used the same five dollars to buy me a coffee--"

"That's basically what I told you!" Bucky explained himself, feeling Steve's angry look.

"You left some parts out," Steve muttered, "and I told you to stop doing that!" he hissed, meaning Bucky's habit of playing guitar in the middle of the city. Bucky claimed that he was entertaining, for Steve, he was asking for trouble. "You will get yourself beaten up one day! Don't walk away when I am talking to you!" Steve kept yelling, as Bucky trotted to serve more coffee, moving his mouth to Steve's words and making faces, mocking him.

"--- and now he has a decent job! My parents keep asking about him and I can finally introduce him!" Sam finished the story, seemingly oblivious to Bucky and Steve's confrontation.

"Guys, better enjoy that carrot cake, we ran out!" Tony called, walking to his group of friends, and collecting the plates and cups he could. "But the honey cake finally cooled down!" he added quickly, noticing Thor's sad puppy look. That guy could eat.

"You started making honey cake again?!" Rhodey called, almost jumping out of his seat. "Dibs on a piece!" he raised his hand up and waved frantically.

"Of course, you will get some, honey bear."

"Oh, so here is the party for all cat people!" someone yelled out.

"Behave," came a deeper and mellow voice.

"Hey, guys! Over here!" Sam raised his hand and waved to the two people standing in the doorway.

It was T'Challa and a friend. They walked to the group, T'Challa in long, broad steps, straight as a board, the other one moved softer, as if almost dancing to some disco music, which wasn't a wrong association as his shirt had a mix logos of old music bands.

"You all know T'Challa already," Rhodey introduced his work colleagues and T'Challa nodded to the group, "and this is Peter," he pointed to the other guy.

"Sup!" Peter clicked his tongue and made a finger gun at the group. He was blond and had some curly hair on top of his head and a light stubble. He was wearing a bomber jacket and jeans, and his style was clearly inspired by the 80s. A total opposite of T'Challa, who was wearing an all black suit, and looked refined and polished. Peter had some rough charm to himself.

"Hi! How is Ramzes?" someone asked, and Steve would focus on that, curious to hear how T'Challa was doing with the loud senior cat, if it wasn't for a whisper next to him.

"Wow, they are hot," Tony gaped at both men, the tray almost slipping out of his hands. What made him grip it back, was Steve's judging look, but what really sent panic down his spine, was the way Rhodey glared at him. Seemed that Tony still didn't learn. "… Hot in here!" Tony corrected himself, closing and opening his mouth in brief panic. "Who wants iced coffee?!" he called into the air, walking away with the tray, cups and plates clinking gently.

Steve should be offended. Yet, at this point, he only smiled to himself and shook his head at his boyfriend's behavior.

"Don't worry," Rhodey said and Steve looked at him, as Rhodey picked up some of the plates Tony left behind, "I know when that idiot is really in love," he stood up, and went to put the plates away.

Steve kept smiling and looked at the piece of carrot cake he was handed earlier, feeling something warm inside. He focused on that and started eating, listening to his friends talking.

***

"Sit down!"

"But---"

"You were standing for the whole day! Sit down!"

"But we need---"

"SIT. DOWN!!"

Pepper raised her hands up in a desperate gesture. Not having any other choice, she plopped down on the couch, obediently staying where her crew had pointed her to. "Here. I am sitting, happy?"

"Yes," Janet beamed, as Bucky and Bruce were cleaning the cafe, joined by Sam, Rhodey and Steve. "We will handle it, you rest!" Janet decided, walking away with Natasha to collect plates and cups from the tables. Clint and Tony were nowhere to be seen, but that probably meant that they were back in the cats' room, refilling the bowls with food and water and cleaning the litter boxes for the night.

The cafe was emptying, their guests already had left and cats were nestling for a night of sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day and cafe would function normally, ready to serve more guests and look for homes for the new cats.

"Did you count the cats?!" Pepper turned around from her place on the couch, when Tony and Clint walked out from the bar area.

"Six!" Tony called back, "seven more to find!"

"I am on it!" Clint took the job and walked to the playground area, ready to play 'spot the cat'.

"Before we turn the bar off, does anyone want something?! Coffee, tea?!" Bruce called and collected some orders, while the rest was cleaning. It didn't take long to clean with so many helpers, and soon the cafe became spotless again, ready for tomorrow.

"Thanks, guys. You all did a great job today," Pepper smiled gratefully as her crew and friends sat around her and the group enjoyed a last cup of coffee, mugs handed out by Clint and Janet.

"Milady, your coffee," Clint said charmingly, offering Natasha a cup of black and strong coffee. "As black and bitter as your soul, just the way you like it," he added with a cheerful grin and Natasha cooed a thank you, taking the cup and gesturing towards Bruce to join them.

Steve held his latte and Tony's double espresso and looked around for his boyfriend. He saw him at the other end of the cafe, alone and standing in front of the colorful wall. Steve made his way there, not recalling such colorful wall being in the cafe. Soon, it all made sense. He joined Tony and smiled at the black wall with photos all cats that had ever been adopted from Meow Cafe, in their forever homes, each photo signed by the owner in a colorful marker. Cow, Ariel, Tsuki, Crazeh… They were all there, including some cats Steve didn't have an occasion to meet. There were also current cats's photos on the wall, ready for adoption and looking for their humans. Steve remembered Meow Cafe guests crowding in this spot earlier, but didn't know why. It was a great memento and a tribute.

"That's incredible," Steve smiled, looking at Tony with love. "You helped all those cats, you know that? You helped them find a home," he said and he couldn't possibly love Tony anymore.

"I had some help," Tony answered and turned to Steve, smiling and a bit teary eyed. Thinking about his former pupils, always made him emotional. The mood changed drastically when he noticed what Steve was holding. "Is that a latte?!" he gasped out in horror, looking at the cup.

"Um… Yeah, but don't worry, it is for me, I have an espresso for you---"

"You have been drinking lattes the whole evening?!"

"Yes?"

"The hell--- BRUCE!!" Tony called, leaning out from behind Steve and looking at his group of friends, "you have been serving Steve lattes?! Regular or soy milk?! REGULAR OR SOY?!"

Bruce didn't answer. The way he curled between Natasha and Clint was an answer in itself. Hey, it was a busy night. He forgot. Bucky tsked and shook his head. It wasn't a secret that Steve was lactose intolerant, yet, sometimes it seemed that Steve was the one who forgot most often.

"Oh God," Tony whined, hiding face in his hands and after a while glaring at Steve through his fingers. "You are so not sleeping in my bed tonight!"

Steve couldn't help it. Tony looked so indignant and mad, he had to put the coffee on the nearby table, as he started to shake with silent laughter and it was hard to keep the cups steadily in his hands.

"I am serious!" Tony shrilled, pointing an accusing finger at Steve and not understanding what was so amusing about this situation, "last time you had milk, Fig was terrified! It was like an all-night artillery shooting!"

Steve did the only thing he could in this situation. He hugged wriggling Tony close and kept laughing until his hotheaded boyfriend ended his tantrum.

***

It was a week after the opening of the Meow Cafe and everything was going smoothly. Bucky got the job, and happily served coffee and took care of the cats, under Janet's watchful eye, whose enthusiasm and passion earned her the main barista title, that previously belonged to Tony. Sam finally introduced his parents to Bucky, inviting them to the Meow Cafe one evening. Bruce, Natasha and Clint could be seen more often together, becoming more open about their relationship. Even Rhodey finally bought an apartment in New York and could regularly meet with Pepper and Tony, without taking their friends' couch for the night. But most importantly, new cats were bonding with new people and had chances to find their forever homes. Soon, Meow Cafe had the first adoption and it was Peter, the guy T'Challa brought for the opening, who was the first one to adopt a cat and Cajetan found his forever home. And Tony and Steve kept working and being in a relationship and loved each other and possibly couldn't be happier.

Everything was just fine.

Just. Fine.

Fine.

Fine?

It was wrong.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Ah… Ah!! Hah!!"

"Meow!!"

"Tony…"

"Nghhh… No, don't--- AH!"

"MEOW!!"

It was wrong, wrong, wrong. His human was crying and it sounded like if he was in pain and he didn't know why. He needed to help him. Figaro started to frantically scratch on the locked door, needing to get inside. He needed to protect his friend.

"HAH! Ah ah ah!!"

"MEEEOOOW!!!"

"Tony!!"

"Yghhhh OKAY FINE!"

The door suddenly opened, and before Figaro could slide inside and attack with sharp claws whoever was hurting his friend, he was hoisted up and carried away, pressed to bare, human skin. Figaro blinked at that and saw the room moving and instead of being in the corridor, he suddenly found himself in the bathroom.

"Fiiiiig," Tony whined, locking the door and putting the cat down. Figaro immediately brushed around his human's legs, relieved to see that he was fine, although the lack of clothing and raised body temperature was a bit alarming.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, but Fig!" Tony snapped his fingers and crouched down to get to a more or less the same eye level as his cat, "focus now! Remember the talk we had?"

Figaro sat his fluffy butt down, looking at his human. They had many talks. He should be more specific. Humans were so unreasonable sometimes.

"The first one?" Tony emphasized. "The very first one? Come on, I know you can remember."

The first one…

Ooohh…

Figaro remembered. It was a long time ago. A very long time ago, when his hind paw was hurting and everything, including his human, seemed a lot bigger and scarier.

"We are here! This is where you live now!"

He looked around, seeing an unknown, big place. It was big, but also warm. He liked warm.

"This is where you will eat. Here I will put a litter box for you. And here is where we will sleep!"

His bright eyes followed, trying to take everything in. It seemed like a lot, but he would handle it.

"Oh, but first thing first…"

The human sat down and kept him on his lap. It was warm and soft, and he suddenly felt very sleepy.

"Listen," the human said, and stroked a single finger along his head and he closed his eyes in content. That felt nice. "I promise to keep you healthy, well fed and safe, and when the time comes, I will help you move on as quickly and painlessly as possible," the human said, sounding serious and he opened his eyes, feeling that it was an important moment, "in return, you will do your stuff into the litter box, won't wake me up at nights and allow me to get laid when I bring someone home, okay?"

A tiny meow. Not quite an agreement, as he didn't understand most of the words, but it seemed important to his human.

"Okay," human smiled, and scratched behind his ears. Nice. "You need a name…" human said, looking at him with a thoughtful face. "Can't think without music. Gimme a sec," human continued and slid the kitten gently off his lap, walking away. He didn't move away, when some loud noise filled the apartment and he curled in himself, eyes widening up in fear.

"Ooops, sorry!" human amended, making the noise quieter. It was a sound he never heard before. It was like screaming, but there was some pattern to it.

"You okay, buddy?" human asked sympathetically and sat back on the couch, taking him back in his lap. He continued to curl, alerted by the sound. Somehow it reminded him of his time outside, but it was different. He was safe now.

"My mom used to listen to this all the time," human said, closing his eyes and stroking a gentle hand along his back, remembering. It had to be a fond memory and he felt the happy vibes the person was giving.

"Meow," he said quietly, reminding of his presence.

"Hm? You like it too?" that's not exactly what the meow stand for, but he would train the human with time to better understand him. "Okay, so… How about Figaro? Do you like it as a name?"

"Meow!"

The human smiled and he felt he made something good happen. "Then it is settled. This will be your new name. Figaro!"

During the years, Figaro tried to keep most of the promises. Yet, he felt scolded and lowered his beautiful head in shame.

"I knew you can remember."

Hmm, so get laid mean mating. A cat learns something new every day. He interrupted his humans mating. At least he knew it wasn't pain and could calm down.

"Okay, we will do it like this," Tony decided and Figaro saw bare feet walking away. Tony opened the closet under the sink where he kept the clean towels and put some out, for Figaro to squeeze in if he would decide to, and poured some water into the sink, in case if the cat got thirsty. Not the best conditions, but it would do for a while and he saw Figaro licking off droplets of water from the sink numerous times already, so it shouldn't be that bad.

"I will let you out soon, okay?" Tony said, petting his cat's head and walking to the door. Figaro closed his eyes, giving his human a permission to leave. Quietly, Tony slid out and closed the door. Figaro looked around the spacious bathroom and decided to nap for the time being. He walked to the closet and threw out with his paw some more of the towels and squeezed inside, curling into a little ball in the tight space. Purrfect.

***

It was so warm and nice. He was cuddled into a warm person and there was a hand scrubbing his head. He was practically melting.

Tony purred playfully at the morning affection, letting the other man know, that he was slowly wakening up. The scrubbing stopped for a moment and then continued with tender care.

"Good morning," Steve whispered, pressing lips to brunet's curly hair.

"Morning," Tony answered, stretching his legs and sinking back into Steve, not bothering to open his eyes. It was just too sweet to move and he could still feel the afterglow from the long, hot night they had.

"I have to get up," Steve said, moving his fingers to stroke along Tony's nape.

"No, you don't," Tony argued, not keen on letting his personal heater go.

"Yes, I do," Steve argued back and smiled, gently moving away and pressing kisses into Tony's face and tickling his ribs and sides gently when the stubborn brunet still didn't want to let go. Giggling and breathless, Tony dropped back into the bed and stayed entangled in the covers, smiling sweet and in love, getting the same smile back from the blond.

"I will get some lunch for us on way back," Steve promised, leaning down and kissing his boyfriend. Never enough of kisses. "And you can stay in bed and cuddle with Figaro now."

Tony scrunched his nose. Seeing that Steve mentioned him… Why their cat wasn't in bed with them? Figaro should be already between them and taking up space, instead they had a nice morning and woke up cuddled to each other---

Oh, son of a---

Steve almost fell off the bed, alarmed by the loud wheeze and the way Tony rushed out, bare feet running on the wooden floor. He heard him stopping in the corridor and opening the door loudly, almost ripping it out of the hinges.

"FIGARO!!" Tony called in real panic, as if spending half of the night in a closed bathroom, would scar his cat horribly. Figaro calmly peaked out his head from among the towels, happily sleeping in warmth and peace. Humans had to be always so loud.

"FIG, I AM SO SORRY!" Tony scrambled to his cat and took him out from among the towels and hugged close to his chest, cradling him in his arms. "MY POOR BABY!"

"Is Fig okay?!" Steve called from the bedroom, feeling alarmed by the cries, but also knowing that Tony could be overdramatic sometimes.

"NO THANKS TO YOU!" Tony yelled, deeply offended. "YOU MADE ME LOCK MY BABY AWAAAY!"

Steve raised his eyes to the ceiling. Drama, drama, drama. He would have to buy a package of bacon and a box of donuts on his way home to placate both Figaro and Tony.

So, this was what his life became…

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

And with that thought he went to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast for all of them, smiling on his way.

<-- previous chapter

thank you for loving this series and thank you to my friends and readers for letting me borrow their cats! look below for a surprise!

Meow Cafe Cats

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boylesharon · 4 years

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thecrookedgavel · 4 years

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The Crooked Gavel - Ep 1 Transcript

Here is the transcript for Episode 1 of the queer audio drama - The Crooked Gavel.

Audio of the episodes can be found here

Episode 1 Transcript

Credits Voice: You are listening to episode 1 of The Crooked Gavel: A 1920’s tale of court drama and lesbian romance, produced by Crooked Gavel Productions. This episode contains a scene of sexual assault, please look after yourself while listening.

Alice: I need an Earl Grey tea with just a bit of milk. It’s for Miss Paprika over at table 7, so make sure it’s cooled off a bit before I take it over to her!

Harry: Thank you, Alice. One noodle juice with a splash, less of a quilt and more of a bedsheet, on the way.

Alice: So as I was saying, my Daddy’s doing just fine, thanks for asking. He’s still working hard as headmaster and loving it. He did say he’s missing having you around in his last letter though, if that’s what you were wondering about.

Harry: *laughs* well if I’ve got to be honest, I was wondering just that. Some days, I miss teaching those little Joe Brooks, but making java and beating my gums with other intellectuals is the place to be. *sigh* Last time your father was here from Texas, we saw a Yankees game together. Say, did you listen to this week’s game? Hot dawg, I tell you, it had me jumping!

Alice: Oh no, Mr. Tarragon. I don’t much care for baseball. Never really interested me at all. The way you men drone on and on about it… Why, I am likely to be bored to tears.

Harry: Oh, come now, in my experience, everyone loves baseball. Even the ladies!

Alice: Only when they’re trying to impress a big timer.

Harry: In that case, you’d do well to learn a bit about baseball to aid you in your search for a husband.

Alice: Oh, Mr Tarragon, I’m not exactly husband hunting at the moment.

Harry: Really? Then what are you here in Brooklyn looking for? And please, give me a straight answer this time.

Alice: Well, inspiration. Direction. Belonging. Living in Texas just wasn’t for me. I found big city life to be very appealing. I’m sure you know the feeling.

Harry: You got me there. It took me a while to find where I fit in. But running The Crooked Gavel seems to suit me just fine. I do hope you find what you’re looking for. Order up!

Alice: Thank you Mr Tarragon, I think that I will.

---

Alice: Here’s your tea, Miss Paprika

Lillian: Thank you very much, young lady. *takes a sip* The tea is lovely, just the right temperature for me to start drinking. And I didn’t even have to ask this time!

Alice: You’re quite welcome. How’s your nephew doing, by the way?

Lillian: He’s doing wonderfully! Mathew’s started to get a lot of cases, possibly more than he has time for. But he just can’t say no to someone in need, I can tell you that.

Alice: I’m glad to hear that being a prosecutor has started to bear fruit. Speaking of, would you like me to bring you an apple to your table?

Lillian: Oh no, thank you. I’ll be leaving shortly after I finish my tea. I’m meeting Matthew outside as soon as he finishes up his paperwork for the afternoon. The boy has quite the gift for it, I’m told. This coffee house is so close to the courthouse, it just makes sense to drop in and see you! We’ll be taking a walk as soon as he gets here, since it’s such a lovely September afternoon.

Alice: Sure beats the storm last week. It started raining pitchforks so suddenly that I was caught walking home without an umbrella. Let me tell you, by the time I got home again, I looked like a cat that had a whole bathtub full of water dumped on her. Positively dreadful.

Lillian: *laughs heartily* That’s hard to imagine, given you look like the cat’s meow today! My dear, if only I were a few years younger.

Alice: Or if I were a few years older.

Lillian: *chuckle* if only… Anyways, my dear, here’s what I owe you for the tea. And don’t worry, you can keep the change.

Alice: Why thank you very much, miss Paprika. I do hope you have a lovely walk outside and an even lovelier day.

Lillian: Thank you, Alice. Good day to you, too.

---

Alice: I’m back!

Harry: You seem full of energy all of a sudden. Well, more so than usual.

Alice: I am indeed, and not because miss Paprika gave such a generous tip. She’s simply a pleasure to talk to. By the way, she said her tea was the perfect temperature for drinking.

Harry: Oh, Glad to hear, though you were the one who reminded me to let it cool. You have such a mind for people. I don’t know how you do it.

Alice: That’s very kind of you to say, Mr Tarragon. Why, I don’t think anything can ruin my mood right now!

*Door with bell opens*

Alice: Aww, shoot. I guess I spoke too soon. Well if it isn’t --

Harry: Judge Cayenne, always a pleasure to see the old egg

Alice: More like a bad egg. I know how he talks to you! You ought to hear how he talks to the rest of the staff. One time that high hat broke Betty’s poor heart down to tears. And she’s a regular bearcat!

Harry: John? What a bunch of malarkey! He is a pillar of our community… Why, he --- Well… To be honest, I have been hearing some rather nasty rumours about him lately

Alice: Yes? Do tell.

Harry: Let’s just say that if chin music is to be believed, that old bird makes the Crooked Gavel look straight. They all stem from the man he walked in with, Frank Saffron. That’s Cayenne’s assistant. He’s known to keep track of some rather dirty laundry. Mix in the fact that he’s so deep in the judge’s pocket, that he might as well be a couple of clams, and you’ve got yourself some moonshine that’ll put you straight in your coffin.

Alice: Now that sounds more like the fella I know

Harry: Both looking over here like they know what they want. *pause* That’s your cue, Alice.

Alice: Ooooh, but Mr Tarragon… Mr Cayenne makes me feel so uncomfortable. The way he talks down to me… it’s detestable. Couldn’t you serve him instead?

Harry: *sigh* Alice, I’m not paying you to be comfortable, I’m paying you to serve customers. He’s a customer, so serve him.

Alice: Oh, alright. I’m going, I’m going.

---

Alice: Welcome to the Crooked Gavel. My name is Alice, and I will be serving you today. Is there anything I can get for you?

Cayenne: Finally, we have been waiting for ages! You really know how to put the ‘wait’ in ‘wait staff’

Frank: *laughs a little too loudly* That’s a good one! You slay me, your honor.

Alice: Now that’s a load of hooey! You’ve not been here two whole minutes and yet you’re complaining. Now tell me, sir, did you bite into a lemon while I wasn’t looking, or is that face of yours just natural?

Cayenne: Buh - How dare you, you little trollop! You have just confirmed in my mind that you are disrespectful, vapid, and difficult to get along with

Alice: Well, for a judge, you don’t seem to be a very good judge of character

Frank: Oh yeah? Says who? Alice: Says everyone I’ve met with today. They all seemed to think very highly of me. Meanwhile, Mr Cayenne, you seem ill-tempered, antiquated, and like you’d be the wet blanket at a party.

Cayenne: *growl* You are living proof that women are best seen and not heard

Alice: As opposed to you, who is best not seen at all

Frank: *whispers* Wow, she sure got you good

Cayenne: *whispers* Silence… *normal tone* We would like to start with two espressos, mine with milk, his with sugar. Make sure his is cooled, and mine is hot

Alice: One test of my patience, coming right up

---

Cayenne: Though I usually prefer to be served by a woman for what I think to be… Obvious reasons…. It really can be quite taxing to have to actually speak with them

Frank: And how! You certainly have a way with words, your honor.

Cayenne: Thank you, old boy. That’s very kind of you. But that’s enough about her, let’s get down to business. Any changes to the monthly… donations to the John Cayenne fund?

Frank: Let me take a look. Hmmm… Everything seems to be in order…. Ah yes, it looks like the Mace brothers have missed their payment for the second month in a row.

Cayenne: Well... won’t they be surprised the next time either of them ends up in court. And exactly how much… creative accounting were you able to pull off this time?

Frank: This month I was able to get you 12 percent off the top.

Cayenne: *laughs* Attaboy, Frank. Excellent work, as always. You really are my right hand man, you know.

Frank: Aww shucks. It was nothing, your honor, really.

Cayenne: The only thing that would make this day better is to teach that flippant waitress a lesson. Wait, *chuckles* I have an idea that will put our little miss in her place...

---

Alice: Here are your drinks, made just the way you asked

Cayenne: Here, let me take them from you

Alice: No need to --- Woaaah! *Crash*

Alice: Now why’d you have to go and do a thing like that? You know I’m perfectly capable of placing drinks on a table myself!

Cayenne: Oh, sorry, sorry. How completely foolish of me. I don’t know what came over me.

Alice: You better be sorry, now I have to stoop down and clean this mess up all by myself

Cayenne: Yes, I suppose you will

*Slap*

Alice: *Gasp* Now would you kindly remove your hand from my backside, please? I-I-I find that wildly inappropriate… Your honor

Cayenne: Inappropriate? But you were the one who bent down in front of me. Wearing that dress… Wearing those heels. Why, you were simply asking for it.

Alice: I did not ask for you to… *gulp* try and woo me in that manner. I-I-I was simply doing my job

Frank: Your honour, don’t you think---

Cayenne: ubp, ubp, ubp! Woo you? Ha! Don’t flatter yourself thinking I was trying to woo you, sweetheart. You’re not even that good looking of a girl!

Alice: Well… Well then, why would you ---?

Harry: Alice, could you come over here a minute? Now?

---

Harry: For crying out loud, Alice! Not only have you wasted a perfectly good set of espressos, but you’ve painted a customer’s suit with them! And not just any customer, I might add, but John Cayenne? He could shut the place down if he wanted to. What is the matter with you?

Alice: Please, Mr. Tarragon, you have to listen to me. None of this was my fault. He… That prune pit... Tipped over my hands on purpose! And worse, he did it so he could… So he could paw at me. I don’t feel so good. My knees feel so weak. And my head…

Harry: Oh here, why don’t you have a seat? *chair moving*

Alice: Thank you… I can’t believe this has happened to me. You hear stories like these all the time, but I never thought it would happen to me. This just can’t be happening.

Harry: Oh, Alice. I can see how this would be awful for you. But you have to look on the bright side. He didn’t hurt you, or steal something of yours. No real crime was committed here today

Alice: No, that was definitely a crime, I know it must be. This whole thing has made me feel more terrible than I ever have in my life!

Harry: I understand, but there’s nothing left to be done. You’ll feel better in no time! I’ll give you a few minutes to compose yourself

Alice: I think I’m going to need more than a few minutes, Mr Tarragon. And there is so something that can be done! He can be pinched and shoved into a jail cell for what he did.

Harry: You can’t be suggesting that -

Alice: Yes I am, indeed. I’m going to take him to court. And you’re going to be my witness

Harry: Oh, no, that I cannot do. With the kind of pull that man has in the legal community, one word and there’d be a boycott on this establishment from every lawyer, aide, and clerk in Brooklyn. That’s more than half our regular clientele!

Alice: Please, that awful man needs to be taken off the streets. You said yourself that he’s not on the level. He deserves to rot in jail for touching me like that.

Harry: I’m sorry Alice, but I… I didn’t see it happen. I can’t help you.

Alice: Baloney! With all the commotion, the entire BLOCK must have looked over.

Harry: I was already fixing up some java to replace the order that you… Well, he… dropped. Even if I had seen, I’d be out of a job if I spoke up. You’d be out of a job too.

Alice: I’m going to be out of a job this instant if you don’t pledge to help me!

Harry: Alice… Please don’t do this. I already said I can’t help you. Think of your future, think of your father, what would he say?

Alice: My father would support me no matter what. I’m sorry that you don’t share the same conviction. This is goodbye, Mr. Tarragon.

Harry: Alright, alright, I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you two months pay to hold you over until you find another job. Just don’t come back here expecting a place at the Gavel when your kale goes sour.

Alice: *Pause* Thank you Mr Tarragon. You’ve always been very kind to me. I will remember that.

Harry: I can see it in your eyes that you’ll see this court idea of yours through to the end. Go on now, I’ll clean up this mess myself. You go along home and get some rest.

Alice: Then, this is not goodbye. Only farewell. I do hope to see you again soon, only next time with justice by my side.

Harry: *Chuckles* Farewell then, Alice.

---

Alice: Mr Cayenne, a pleasure to see you, as always. Next time I see you, it’ll be in court!

Cayenne: Seeing as I have a career as a Judge, that is indeed a place you’d expect to see me

*Door with bell closes*

---

Credits Voice Thank you for listening to episode 1 of The Crooked Gavel! Follow us on Twitter @TheCrookedGavel for updates and discussions of this and other queer projects. This episode’s cast in order of appearance:

Katte Noel as Alice Cinnamon

Nicholas Alain as Harry Tarragon

Kaidan Cormier as Lillian Paprika

An Capuano as Frank Saffron

Michael Hope as John Cayenne

And An Capuano as the credits voice

Directed by - An Capuano

Produced by - An Capuano

Written by - An Capuano

Copy Editing by - Sharon van Wyngaarden

Casting by - An Capuano

Sound Design by - An Capuano and BA Nemo

Logo Artist - McKenna Pipher

Audio Editing by - An Capuano

Audio Mastering by - An Capuano

Music by - Kevin MacLeod

Music used in this episode is attributed in the description.

#Queer #Lesbian #Drama #voice acting

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

6 AM ||Shalaska|| - Kitt

A/N: not good at sickfics or fluff whoops

Everyone was in Alaska’s room. She literally wanted to die. It was six o’clock in the morning, a whole hour before she actually needed to get up. She was too hot and too cold and felt like literal shit. Naturally, her first response was to wake up Willam, who didn’t take kindly to the idea of waking up early (“Suck a dick, I’m trying to sleep”), whose decided to get Sharon (“‘cause, y’know, you like her an’ all.”). Sharon brought Jinkx (“Don’t leave me, it’s dark!”), who brought Adore (“I think Alaska is dying.”) who told Courtney (“I’ve got to come, I’ll make her feel better!”). The next thing she knew half of her dorm was in her room. She buried her head in her pillow and sighed. Courtney patted her back, but that just made her feel worse.

“Courtney, if you don’t fucking stop that I’ll literally vomit. Don’t try me.”

Courtney removed her hand from Alaska’s back sharpish. Alaska still felt sick. She was visibly shivering. She rolled onto her back, an effort which took all the strength she had in her.

“I’ll get you a glass of water?” Adore offered, tilting her head. It was early, but she was totally wide awake. But she always was. Jacked up on Red Bull 24/7, Courtney had told her. The perkiness of her voice was only slightly getting on Alaska’s nerves.

“Yeah, that’ll help.” Courtney agreed. Willam rolled her eyes and straightened her pyjama top. It was blue and covered in little St Bernards, and Courtney thought that was incredibly cute. The volume in the room was increasing and even Willam thought Alaska would want a little peace.

“Look, you,” she pointed at Naomi,”And you, at Bob,”You, you and you,” Chad, Latrice and Phi Phi,”Out. Now.”

They grumbled but obliged anyway. Phi Phi gave Alaska a gentle hug, which was strange since they’d barely spoken outside of arguments. This earned a roll of Sharon’s eyes which, luckily, went unnoticed by Phi Phi.

“Hope you feel better for double chem.” Chad joked, her voice edged with amusement, shutting the door behind her. The sudden ‘bang’ was enough to wake up the entire school, let alone the dorm.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Alaska groaned, rolling over and burying her head in her pillow. Jinkx gave her an, ever so slightly awkward, pat on the back. It took all of Alaska’s willpower to not turn around and snap at her. She was trying her best but couldn’t help but mumble a feeble ‘stop, Jinkxy’. What a shame ‘Jinkxy’ didn’t hear her. She patted her back again, because, y’know, Jinkx really believed she was helping.

“Jinkx! Fuck off!” Alaska sat up and whipped her head around so quickly that Jinkx nearly fell off of the bed all together. Alaska probably yelled louder than necessary but, if Jinkx didn’t cut that shit out, she’d regret it.

“Sorry, ‘laska.” She squeaked, looking wounded as she relocated from the bed to the floor. Courtney giggled sympathetically before pulling gently on the sleeve of Adore’s pyjamas,

“Should we go? I think they’ve got this and, if you don’t get any more sleep, you’ll be pissed at me for not telling you to go to bed.”

Adore shook her head and laughed, but knew it was true. Before Alaska knew it, there was only her, Jinkx, Willam and Sharon left in the room. Jinkx still looked a bit offended when Alaska looked down at her, so she flashed her one of the famous smiles she usually only gave Sharon. That seemed to do the trick.

“Sorry for annoying you, Alaska.” She smiled, fiddling with the sleeves of her pyjamas. Alaska shrugged. She wanted to reply with actual words but, if she opened her mouth, she felt she’d literally be sick. And Willam probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

“What’s up, baby?” This time it was Sharon speaking to her. She sat down beside Alaska and gave her a somewhat hesitant hug. Another shrug. She wanted to pull away from Sharon, lie down, suffocate herself with her pillow, but something told her Sharon was making an effort, so she went along with it.

“C’mon, Lasky, what’s wrong?”

Willam was looked through narrowed eyes at Sharon from the opposite side of the room,

“If you make her fuckin’ vomit on the carpet, I’ll kill you.”

Sharon simply laughed in response to this. She brushed Alaska’s hair from her face before pulling her away, appearing surprised.

“Willam, she’s really warm.”

Willam shrugged before making her way to the door,”I’ll go get someone, then.”

She wanted out and then was the perfect opportunity. Jinkx watched the door shut before turning to Sharon,

“H-“

“Go with her, Jinkx.” Sharon cut her off. If she was to stay, Sharon knew Jinkx would inevitably be a third wheel.

Indifferent to being interrupted, Jinkx gave a small nod,”Ok, whatever. See you later, Sharon. Uh, Alaska? Hope you feel better.”

It was quiet after everyone had left. Alaska still felt like shit, but marginally better shit. She sniffed. Sharon didn’t know whether it was because her nose was running or she was crying. She guessed the latter.

“It’s ok, Alaska, you can cry if you want to.”

Alaska laughed slightly, but Sharon knew it was forced.

”I’m not crying, you fucking idiot, it’s my nose.”

But only seconds after she’d said that her giggles had turned into quiet, snuffling sobs. She couldn’t see Alaska’s face; she had turned away. It hurt Sharon to see her in such a mess, no matter how much they quarrelled. They were famous throughout Miss Charles’ School for Girls for their… disputes.

“Oh, Alaska.” She murmured, taking a deep breath. She’d never been good at dealing with tears.

Alaska gave a small sniff and buried her head in the crook of Sharon’s neck. Sharon began to absentmindedly run her hands through Alaska’s straight, blonde hair. The poor thing was still unbearably warm.

“Why are you crying, babe?” Sharon tried to keep her voice soft and quiet and not yell as much as she normally would? It was a bit of a dumb question, given the events of the morning, but Sharon didn’t have any words in her head that would make sense at that moment. Alaska shook her head. Sharon didn’t ask again. Instead, she chose to wrap an arm around her shoulders. And, eventually, Alaska spoke up.

“I feel so shit.”

That was all.

“Aww, I’m sorry.”

Because she didn’t know what else to say.

“At least you’ll get sent home. And miss double chemistry, like Chad said. Fucking lucky. But I guess you could’ve picked a better day; It’s Friday! You’d have been going home tonight anyway.”

“I know.” Alaska sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her PJs,”Boarding school fucking sucks, huh?”

Sharon shrugged, pulling Alaska’s hands from her eyes and using her own sleeve to dry the tears.

“Boarding school means I get to see you every day.”

Alaska had never heard Sharon say anything so mushy. It made her feel a little better to know they weren’t arguing. Again.

“I love you, Needles.” Her voice was only just loud enough for Sharon to hear. She kissed her hot forehead and Alaska thought if Sharon could just stay with her like this all day, she didn’t want to go home.

“I love you too, ‘Lasky. I’ll miss you today. It’s art and you’re not gonna be there to fucking crush me in paint.”

“Willam will probably do it. Tell Phi I said hi?” She joked, fully aware that Sharon would punch her playfully for even saying such a thing. Regarding Alaska’s current state, Sharon would usually come out with a mouthful of abuse about Phi Phi but she more or less dropped it. After all, Alaska probably didn’t want to hear her bitch about other people.

“Yeah, in your fucking dreams.”

Alaska smiled and everything was quiet.

“And… and will you come see me tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask, even if you weren’t dying I’d still come.” Sharon giggled.

“That’s kinda poetic.”

“What else would you expect from me this early, on about three hours of sleep, a Red Bull and a wish?”

“Nothing less.” Alaska shrugged, but Sharon knew it was an effort.

“I hope you feel better tonight. You’re no fun when you’re sick.”

Alaska gave a faint giggle, looking bemused,”I can’t fucking help it.”

Sharon smiled,”I know. But if you’re gonna-“

She was interrupted by a sneeze.

“If you’re gonna be like this, you won’t let me leave. I’ll be stuck fucking cuddling you forever.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about that.”

“You’re like my fucking cat.”

This seemed to lift Alaska’s mood ever so slightly. She gave a half hearted playful ‘meow’,

“I love Cerrone.”

“Sometimes I wonder if the only reason you’re with me is my cat.” Sharon cackled.

“Never! I’m with you for your good looks… your charming personality… your, uh…” She pretended to think, stopping,”I dunno.”

“Maybe my willingness to come to your fucking room at six am?” Sharon snapped, but it was only in a playful manner.

“Yeah. That too, I guess.”

#kitt #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #fluff #au #boarding school au #rpdr fanfiction #sick fic #lesbian au

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annemayfair · 7 years

Text

Parting Ways. [P.2]

@picchar @thatcalamity here’s the ending o w o

[Words: 2,348]

Oran opened his eyes.

The ceiling in his bedroom seemed closer, but there still remained a darkened spot where Rowan’s spell once hit. Oran always remembered it, having stared at it for a few years now. Light painted bright yellow squares as the sunset shone through the windows. He had slept long enough.

After washing off the grime of his tired and exhausted sleep, Oran kneeled before a large wooden box with smooth sides, packed to the brim with pillows and blankets. Honeybun slept, her belly with pink nipples exposed, and ready for the pups to suck on them whenever they pleased. Tiny squealing potatoes with squiggly thin tails rolled around in the box, some of them with eyes still closed. Oran noticed one that couldn’t get on his belly after rolling on his back, and picked him up gently.

“Good morning,” he greeted the tiny pup, kissing him on the head. The puppy made a sound much closer to a meow, and wiggled its tail. “Be a good boy.”

He placed the puppy next to Honeybun, petted the head of a sleeping mabari, and checked the plate right next to the box. It was empty, and Oran made a mental note to ask servants to keep her fed and happy.

Oran didn’t remember a time when there wasn’t a Rowan or a Gylys waiting for him outside his bedroom, with a mischievous look on their faces, with toys hidden in hands behind their backs. They weren’t here this time, however, and for the first time Oran truly realized how bizarre this wing of Redcliffe castle felt without the Guerrin kids in them. He never remembered this hallway being so quiet, with no stomping or running or laughing or yelling. And no barking of several adolescent mabaris.

There was, however, a baby crying.

He made his way to the biggest nursery, farthest from the staircase, and pushed the door open. A tall thin woman dressed in heavy red velvet rocked a crying baby, the babe’s head on her shoulder; her straight blonde hair disappeared in folds of her dress.

“I was told that Vints don’t care about their children,” Oran leaned against the doorframe, crossing his hands over his chest. “I thought you’re supposed to find an elf for every need he has.”

The woman turned around, hushing at the baby and patting his back. Her dark brown eyes pierced Oran straight to the doorframe, but then a slight smile bloomed on her lips as she waddled towards him. Her walk was unsure and somewhat clunky, but that is to be expected of a woman who just gave birth.

“Only if the child is not a mage, unwanted, or a kossith,” she told Oran, approaching him. She then kissed the baby’s head gently, and played with the tiny palm held between her fingers. “He drank dill water earlier, but it’s not helping yet. Tummy ache.”

“Oh, you poor little pup,” Oran stroked his nephew’s bald head, feeling the cotton-soft hairs that appeared to be as light as his mother’s. “Maybe next time eat a bit slower, right?”

Young Eamon interrupted his crying to burp, and his mother hurried to get a spare cloth her son could use if needed. Oran watched her fuss around for a few minutes, held the babe as she placed the cloth around her shoulders, and fondly listened to her coo and talk to the child.

“I’m glad you feel well here, Gaia,” he told her. “Gilbert is a lucky man.”

“He is,” she did not protest, whirling around the room, trying to cheer the baby. “And I’m glad everyone knows it.”

Oran kissed Gaia’s hand before departing downstairs. He wondered into a small inner garden where Ysenda used to teach Gylys about flowers and plants that could kill. He and Gilbert would hide under the bench sometimes, pretending that Nan was an archdemon’s scout, trying to find them. Of course, Nan always won, and the boys cried as Ferelden’s fate was forfeit.

Redcliffe, unlike his Rainesfere, felt more like home. It was built to be a home, despite looming over the nearby town like a menacing giant. Guerrins were here to stay from the start. Oran listened to the sound of rustling leaves with his eyes closed, counting how many bedrooms there were in his new homestead. Embarrassingly small bedrooms with unwelcoming windows and cold fireplaces, low in numbers and uncomfortable, pressed against the Main Hall, were abominable at best. If he ever wanted to have a family there, renovations were in order.

“Finally up,” a voice made Oran jump. “Good evening, Oran.”

“Good evening, mother,” he rose to his feet.

A tall woman in a dark blue dress made her way from the opposite side of the courtyard. His mother remained as beautiful as her portrait above the main hall’s fireplace, but the years stripped away the fresh pinkness of her skin and fullness of her shoulders. And, of course, on her portrait, there are no dark blue veins around her mouth and eyes. The taint did not touch her when she was Nathyara Mac Eanraig.

But now she was Nathyara Guerrin, Victor of the Fifth Blight, Ex-Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, Arla of Redcliffe, and a mother of the Five Guerrins. Her black hair grayed at the temples and whole locks were now always ash in color, and her spiky gaze got muted with age. Oran moved to greet her, kissed her hands, and she placed her skinny palm on his cheek.

“When did you arrive?” He asked, escorting his mother to the bench.

“This afternoon,” she replied, sitting down and fixing the folds of her dress. “You were sleeping, and covered in puppies. I took the liberty of placing them back in Honeybun’s bed.”

“I was wondering how they got back there,” he sat beside her.

For a while, the two of them stared at the sky above them. Oran heard laughter and hurrying footsteps of servants who prepared Gilbert’s study for when he shall arrive.

“How did she look to you?” Nathyara broke the silence.

Oran’s memory invoked the shape of Fenlin in bright sunlight of the day of her wedding. Her white hair, braided like divine halo around her head, was illuminated into yellow of the liquid gold. She smiled a lot, and laughed, and she seemed to be the happiest woman in the whole wide world.

“She was perfect,” he finally said. “They both did. They looked so… natural together. Just the way newlyweds should be.”

He never knew if his tone was too sad, or if his face fell as he spoke. But as he did, his mother’s hand gently squeezed his, and when he looked up at her, he saw compassion. He lifted their joined hands and kissed his mother’s hand.

Then he let himself go. His smile and fake normalcy fell, his shoulders sank, and he felt the corners of his mouth go low. Suddenly his throat was dry. And he shouldn’t have been this way, not on her wedding day, not now, and not ever. But something tugged and gnawed on him from the inside, and this little moment in the garden seemed to be the only opportunity of letting it all out.

And he knew he shouldn’t take it.

“But you were there, as well,” he nervously laughed it off. “Wouldn’t you say that the couple was adorable?”

“I think I enjoyed it,” Nathyara said with a shadow of indifference in her voice. “It was a luxurious reception I wish your brother hadn’t negotiated. Seems a bit too extravagant than both of them were comfortable with. Certainly too much wine and saffron broths.”

She shivered, and Oran chuckled. His mother carried a deep disdain for the red aromatic that she developed during her youth in Orlais. He never quite understood it, but then again, he did not eat saffron for years every day.

Both of them watched the rising wind pick up few dried leaves and carrying them away. The summer neared its end, and soon the trees and grass around these parts would turn to rust color, as the peasants would harvest their crops. Castle would be filled with people and their produce, and even this courtyard will briefly be serving as a brewery. Oran wondered if he’d see it soon.

“You’ll learn to live with it.”

“This is not for long, they’re going to be imprinting in no time,” he tried to deflect the implication.

“You did the right thing.”

And then Oran started thinking. It did not surprise him that his mother, whose intuition was nigh unnatural, saw what was going in his heart. He wondered how she spoke with such conviction and understanding, if she… if she went through it herself. But that is impossible!

Right?

“Why?” He asked his mother in disbelief. “Whom and when?”

Nathyara softly chuckled, leaning back on the bench. Her relaxed pose and a dreamy smile on her lips reminded Oran of family evenings when she scared Rowan with stories about the darkspawn near the fireplace, with their father, hugging Gilbert and Gylys, played along.

Was she unhappy then as he is now?

“A fortnight passed after the Ostagar when we made camp near a stream,” Nathyara began her tale. “I took the first watch, and Rythlen slept curled up in her tent. I prayed for her safety, for seeing her reinstalled as Teyrna of Highever, no matter the cost. I believe my mood was quite grim, and it was easy to catch on.”

Oran listened to her intently.

“The boy Warden who survived with us woke up and started chatting me up. Just talking, making bad jokes about two dwarves in a drag and so on. But it helped,” a smile bloomed on the lips of the old Warden. “It helped to distract myself from losing a family again. It helped to chase away bad thoughts and the dread of failure. And on the second night, as we spoke, I felt a needle pierce my heart.”

“Alistair,” Oran said quietly.

“Alistair,” echoed Nathyara. “When I first saw him, I thought that Cailan simply changed his armor to fit in with the soldiers. You know, to mingle. But then I discovered they were different. Very, very different.”

“Of course, we were busy,” she continued. “Mending a broken kingdom and reviving ancient treaties is no easy task on its own, but we had men and almost everyone run after us as we traveled. But there remained a needle in my heart, a small needle that pushed me to joke around with Alistair. It pushed me to tease him, to make him laugh and blush. But then it stopped when I saw Rythlen’s eyes when they talked. How could I do this to her? How could I put myself above her, and take what she wanted?”

Oran, not controlling himself fully, formed his palms into fists. He knew what his mother spoke of. He truly had been there, and he remained there in a way.

“Even when they walked hand-in-hand and kissed behind everyone’s back, sure nobody saw them, there was this voice in my head,” Nathyara’s voice started to crack. “At first, it kept saying: “Nathyara, you could spend your life with this man”. And I thought I could. I imagined myself in his arms, my head on his shoulder, feeling the beating of his heart with my hand. And then the voice in my head said: “Nathyara, you want to spend your life with this man”. And I did. And when it wasn’t my duty on watch, I imagined his eyes on me, looking at me, desiring me. But that never happened.”

Oran’s hand landed on his mother’s shoulder as he hugged her, and she hugged him back.

“She was so happy on her wedding day,” Nathyara’s voice was barely audible. “Dressed in laces and silks, smiling at him, nearly singing because of how happy she was. And I got to hold the crowns, and announce them King and Queen of Ferelden.”

Nathyara wiped away a tear in her eye, and Oran pressed his lips against his mother’s forehead.

“And then I learned to live with it,” she said simply, shrugging off her momentarily sadness.

“Are you happy with father?” Oran asked her. He needed to know, he must know. “Do you love him?”

“Do I love him?” She repeated the question. “After thirty-five years of marriage, what is the point to ask if I love him?”

“It’s the only thing that matters,” Oran told her.

She drew back from him, sighing. She stared to the right as she thought before finally answering:

“I gave that man thirty-five years of my life and raised him five children,” she said with a smile in her voice. “My desires became his, and his hopes became mine. We fought together, we starved together, and we celebrated together. And never, ever in our lives we hated each other. So yes. I suppose I do love him.”

She looked up at her son, placed her hand on his cheek, and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“My beautiful, noble son,” she kissed him again. “Why must you suffer so.”

“I just need to learn to live with it,” he replied to a question she did not ask.

They talked some more, about this and that. But the mood simply wouldn’t lighten up. Oran caught a servant girl and instructed her to keep Honeybun fed. Nathyara reprimanded two men who nearly dropped a mahogany table. In the end, Oran stood up, and excused himself.

“When will you be leaving?” Nathyara inquired, standing up herself. “I assume you’re going to abandon us soon.”

“In a day or two,” Oran answered. “I have a plan for the hold; the treasury keeper might not like it, but I need a house, not a hold. Besides, when else will I have an opportunity to build an entire house?”

He waited for a while, before adding:

“If I may, mother, tell Gilbert to find me a wife. I’m tired of waiting.”

#Fenlin Lavellan #Rahlen Theirin #Oran Mac Eanraig #Nathyara Cousland #Nathyara Guerrin #Honeybun the mama #Dragon Age #2nd Gen #Coon Writes

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