#so i might change up his design a bit to match his. climbing/hiding habits

[hershelwidget]

Something something here’s the gang but even funkier than before

cannot stop giggling at how much Undertow does n o t look like a professional doctor and how TINY Apollo is and how much Marigold’s outfit resembles Nastasia from SPM

please don’t consider these official designs until I draw them in my notebook, these are just kinda bases or big ideas as to what they’d look like

[sir-subpar]

Where have you been? (Part 2)

*Warning: Blood/Gore*

Five weeks. That's how long Boyfriend had been missing. Five weeks with still no sign of the blue-haired man, it was starting to drive Pico mad. The longer this went on, the harder it was for Pico to think positively. He was starting to struggle with sleep, sometimes going days without so much as a wink of rest. His fiery orange hair was messy from him constantly running his fingers through it. It was hard to relax when someone you care about was unaccounted for. Whitty and Hex were still helping out, which Pico appreciated, but it did little to ease his fears. The three of them met up and searched for Boyfriend as often as they could.

It was late in the afternoon, another day going by with no luck finding Boyfriend. The trio had resorted to putting up missing posters for Bf, splitting up to scatter them around town. It did little to help, especially when random vandals would tear them down or draw all over them. Every time Pico saw one of the posters being ruined it pissed Pico off to no end. He didn't think it was possible to want to strangle a graffiti artist as much as he did. By some miracle of willpower he refrained from doing so (that, and he didn't know who was doing it). Pico sighed angrily as he hung another poster, his thumb turning white as he pushed the tacks into a wooden pole. His gaze lingered on the poster. In the picture, Bf was smiling. He looked so happy.. Pico felt his chest tighten around his heart. It felt hard to breathe, but not impossible. He clutched the front of his vest, fidgeting with the teeth of the zipper. Pico could only imagine what Boyfriend was going through, and his imagination was not kind. As much as he tried to ignore the worst possibilities, he struggled to stay positive. 

What if Boyfriend was dead? 

He hated the idea. He didn't want to think about it. Surely he was alive. He had to be somewhere! Anywhere! He couldn't be dead! Pico tried to ground himself by thinking of other possibilities. Maybe Bf was just hiding from everyone because he didn't want Gf and her family to know where he was. Pico grit his teeth as more anger suddenly rose from his core. Girlfriend… he was honestly starting to resent her. Sure, most people don't want to see their ex after a breakup. Pico understood that, sure, whatever. But when someone goes missing, it's good to help find them. Especially when you're the last one to have seen them…

Pico was suddenly brought back to reality when he heard his phone buzzing in his pocket. Whitty was calling. The two exchanged phone numbers after they went to that diner weeks ago. Pico tapped the green icon to answer, and brought the phone to his ear. "Hey Whitty. What's up?" Pico asked, his anger faded a bit, now being distracted with the sound of Whitty's voice. "I just wanted to let you know that Hex can't help us for a few days. He's got some computer virus that's apparently been a bitch to remove." Whitty sounded agitated. Pico figured he was probably worried about his best friend. "Is he gonna be ok?" Pico asked, he was already missing one person, he didn't want to lose another. "Yeah, some tech guy's helping him out. He should be fine soon..." Whitty paused. "Hey, do you want to meet up? I'm out of posters to hang." Whitty's tone changed a bit, Pico couldn't quite figure out why, but he brushed it off. It didn't matter anyway. "Yeah, I'll pick you up. Where are you?"

…

Pico drove in silence as Whitty sat in the passenger seat. He felt a little bad for the bomb man as even with the seat pushed all the way back, he barely fit in the car. Pico's car just wasn't designed with people over 8ft tall in mind. Whitty had the chair leaned back so he wouldn't hit his head on the ceiling, his knees were bent just so he could fit in the car. Whitty's hands were in his pockets, despite the lack of space in the car, he seemed like he was relaxing a bit. 

"Hey Pico." Whitty broke the silence. Pico let out a hum, signaling he was listening. "I had this random idea for the next place we should check."  "Hmm?" Was Pico's only reply. He was tired, but he wasn't gonna quit for the day just yet. "You know that bridge close to the freeway? The one over the ditch?" Pico had to think for a moment before he caught on. "You think he might be hiding out in the ditch?" Pico asked, a little glimmer of hope making itself known. Whitty shrugged. "Maybe. I dunno. It's a common place to hide." Pico turned on his blinker, he had to drive to the opposite side of town to get there but at this rate it wasn't a big deal. If there was even a chance of Boyfriend being there, he had to take it. He had to make sure Bf was safe. 

…

After Pico parked the car, he and Whitty climbed down into the dry ditch. It was now night, the darkness making it hard to see anything. Except Whitty's eyes, that is. In the complete darkness, Pico noticed Whitty's orange eyes were glowing. He could partially see the tall man's body as the warm light from his eyes reflected off of him. Pico found it fascinating. It was oddly comforting, like a fireplace. Pico found himself getting lost in them.

 "... Pico?" Whitty's voice interrupted Pico's stupor. Turns out the inside of Whitty's mouth glowed too. "Huh? What?" Pico asked, a little lost thanks to his little daydream. "Are you alright? You seemed out of it." Whitty asked, shifting awkwardly as he stood. Pico felt uneasy, did Whitty see something in the dark that he hasn't noticed yet? Were they alone? Pico quickly shoved his hand in his pocket and whipped out his flashlight. As soon as he turned it on, and the light flooded the ditch, he realized no one else was near them (at least no one was close enough to see). So why was Whitty uncomfortable? Like someone was staring at him? 

Wait… 

Pico had almost physically face-palmed. He was staring at Whitty. He just stood there in silence and stared at this dude's face in the darkness. From Whitty's point of view, that probably came off as creepy. Now he felt a bit guilty for being so weird. Damn it, he had to say something to break this weird silence! But what? Should he apologize? Or just brush it off so they don't have to talk about it? 'Damn it Pico, say something! Anything!' He mentally chastised himself. Just when he was about to blurt out what probably would have been nonsense, Whitty piped up. "Did my eyes creep you out?" Whitty asked, sounding disheartened. Pico suddenly panicked, speaking before his brain could filter it. "What- No! No. Not at all. Your eyes are cool! Like a jack o lantern or something. They're neat! They like.." Pico cleared his throat to compose himself again. He had to give a rational response. "I think your eyes are fascinating. I didn't mean to offend you, I just got distracted. I'm sorry." Pico's face turned a light shade of pink out of embarrassment. He hoped his disjointed response would somehow make the situation less awkward. Whitty's eyes widened, and his cheeks glowed a bit as his expression shifted from surprised to bashful. He started rubbing the back of his head, a nervous habit, Pico assumed. "I… thanks. I've had people say my eyes remind them of Jack O lanterns before, but I think this is only the second time someone's used it as a compliment. Bf was the first." Whitty confessed, his tone sounding fond. Pico smiled a bit, of course B would say something like that. Pico snapped out of his trail of thought before he got more distracted with reminiscing. "Speaking of… we should get back to looking for him." Pico stated, bring their focus back to the task at hand. Whitty nodded. The two chose to walk throughout the ditch, hopefully they'd eventually find a sign of Boyfriend under these bridges. 

Each step they took echoed off of the cement around them. It was a little eerie. Pico was glad that he wasn't alone, Whitty seemed like he could hold his ground. It was comforting. After a few minutes, they came across a blanket laid out next to a few plastic water bottles. They couldn't necessarily say they belonged to Boyfriend, but it felt like they were on the right track at least. They continued their walk, hoping to find more signs of Bf. A few more mostly uneventful minutes went by, then they saw someone not too far ahead of them. Pico lowered his light a bit so it wasn't shining in their eyes, but he could still see them pretty clearly. They were leaning their back against the wall of the ditch with their arms crossed. They had what appeared to be a goat skull for a head with long horns er.. Horn. Pico noticed that one of their horns had clearly been broken off. Their face had multiple large cracks all over it. He wore a dark blue hoodie that matched his hat. His jeans were either a darker shade of blue or black, Pico couldn't quite tell. The skull-faced stranger had turned their head to look at Pico and Whitty, clearly having noticed Pico's flashlight. His black eye sockets with glowing yellow pupils staring them down. Pico admittedly got a shady vibe from him, but he was accustomed to shady people due to his type of work. He decided to approach the man, but not get too close, he just needed to know if he had seen Boyfriend. "Hey. Mind we ask you something?" Pico called, hoping the stranger would cooperate. "What do you want?" The horned stranger rudely snapped in a clear Russian accent, he was clearly agitated. Pico wasn't that fazed by the man's rudeness, again, he was used to that kind of behavior (not to mention he wasn't all that polite or well mannered himself). "We just have some questions. We're looking for a friend of ours, maybe you've seen him around." The man appeared to relax a bit after hearing that. His expression was less aggressive. "What does your friend look like?" He asked, his tone a bit less harsh than before. Pico pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his gallery until he found a picture of him and Boyfriend. He turned the phone around to face the man. As soon as he saw the photo, his eye sockets widened, and he tilted his head back a bit in surprise. "Boyfriend?" The man questioned.

Now it was Whitty and Pico's turn to be surprised. "You know him?" Whitty asked, bewildered at the man's recognition of Bf. "Yes, we are… acquainted. I see him a lot lately." That, admittedly, made Pico angrier than it probably should have. This guy knew where Bf was while no one else did. B had trusted this guy instead of Pico? Or Whitty? Pico once again asked himself the question that plagued his mind for weeks. 'Why didn't he come to me?' Pico tightened his grip on his flashlight. He should be glad. They finally had a potential lead. Pico forced the irrationality down for what felt like the 100th time that day. "Do you know where he is?" 'Please. Tell me you know where he is.'  Pico begged internally. The man nodded his head in a 'sort of' fashion. "I know where he's been hiding lately. It's not too far from here." He looked around a bit, as if checking to see if they were alone. "You know that little theater on Chavez road? The closed one? He's been around there lately. You'll find him if you go there." Pico suddenly felt a small rush of relief. That sounded promising. "Thank you, Mr..?" "Tabi" "Thank you Tabi. We appreciate it. Oh! I'm Pico, by the way. This is Whitty." Whitty waved, and Tabi nodded in acknowledgment. Tabi bagan to walk away. "Take care of Boyfriend you too. He's fragile right now." He called before departing. "We will," Whitty replied, "Thank you." Pico mumbled one more time before he and Whitty rushed towards the car. 

…

For the first time in weeks, Pico felt hope. He felt almost giddy in a sense. Soon this nightmare could be over. Soon Bf could be safe. But there was still a chance that they wouldn't find Bf. There were a lot of emotions running rampant in his head. Nerves, excitement, doubt. He couldn't remember the last time he was this conflicted. Various 'what ifs' both positive and negative coming forth to give their piece of mind. Pico gripped the steering wheel of his car tightly, his knuckles turning white. 

Tabi's words echoed in his head. 'Take care of Boyfriend, he's fragile right now.'   

Was this all really because of Bf and Gf's breakup? It just felt extreme. Most people don't go missing for weeks after a breakup. Especially Boyfriend. This was out of character for him. He hated being alone. There was more to it. There had to be. Pico was sure of it. 

Pico pulled over as the old theatre came into view. The decorative walls were a bit worn, but still beautiful. He knew this old place fairly well, it made him a little sad when it was shut down. Pico and Whitty stepped out of the car. Whitty stretched his arms, glad he could stand at his full height again. The bomb man looked at the various posters on the theater's walls, each one advertised some sort of play or performance. "Huh." Was all Whitty said. "What's up?" Pico asked. "I don't know why, but I thought this was going to be a movie theater. I didn't realise it was one of those performing arts places." Whitty replied. Pico turned to Whitty. "You've never been here before?" Pico asked, genuinely surprised. Whitty only shook his head in response. "Aw man, that's a bummer. This place was nice. It was family-owned, a local theater, ya know? It went bankrupt, but when it was open it was cool… B loved it here." Pico's tone shifted as he reminisced. Going from casual to bittersweet. Whitty tilted his head curiously, waiting for Pico to continue. He didn't make eye contact with Whitty, instead focusing his gaze on the theater's doors. "Ya know… sometimes, after a show, the owners would let B and I use the stage. We'd sing there for as long as they let us. We did it almost every week." Pico couldn't help but feel nostalgic. He remembered those times so well. It was years ago, back when he and B were together. They were memories he cherished. "Sounds like it was fun." Whitty commented briefly. "It was." Pico's tone continued to be bittersweet. Deep down, he hoped that he and Boyfriend could have what they did back then. He always regretted letting B go, but never said anything. Once Boyfriend found someone else, he figured he'd never have a chance again. Pico's vision started to blur slightly. 'Goddammit Pico! Now's not the time!' He mentally chastised himself, he didn't want to cry. Not when Bf was still lost. Not in front of Whitty. He was able to bury this before, he could do it again. Pico did his best to refocus on the task at hand. He needed to stop doing this. 

Pico cleared his throat.

"A-Anyway, we should look for Boyfriend. He's probably around here somewhere." Whitty nodded. Pico was thankful that Whitty didn't pry into his emotions. He'd rather NOT talk about that at the moment, thank you very much. "Let's check inside." Whitty proposed, Pico gave a brief sound of agreement before pulling the front door's handle. Surprisingly it was unlocked. Was Tabi right? Was Boyfriend here? Did he unlock it? Pico made a mental note about the door and continued inside, Whitty following just behind him. Once again he needed his trusty flashlight. The theater was usually dark as is, but it was extra dark with it being the middle of the night. While in said darkness, Pico was briefly reminded of earlier that night when he stared at Whitty's eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time. Pico's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. This was definitely going to be one of those memories that kept him up at night whenever he thought about it. Then, Pico had another thought. "Hey Whitty." "Hm?" "How come you haven't been using a flashlight too? I mean, I don't mind sharing mine, I'm just curious." Pico hoped it wasn't a rude question. "Oh, well, uh.." Whitty began, Pico once again noticing how the inside of Whitty's mouth glowed like his eyes. "I don't really need a flashlight. I can see in the dark." Whitty's cheeks glowled orange a bit, now Pico was convinced that was how Whitty blushed. He found it kinda endearing, to be honest. "That's really cool. Wish I could do that." Pico said and chuckled a bit, feeling a bit lighter in spirit. Whitty also laughed coyly, feeling a bit flattered. "Let's check out the stage first." Whitty directed, already walking towards it. "Yeah, good idea." Pico agreed, following suit. The 'house' was dusty, and the seats clearly hadn't been used in a while. Well, most of them hadn't. Pico paused, getting a better look. He quickly noticed that a few of them had been folded out, the armrests were raised, and what looked like a shiney red blanket was draped across them. Someone had been using them as a makeshift bed, Pico realized. Someone was definitely here. "Psst, hey Whitty." Whitty turned around to face him, Pico waved his hand in a 'come here' gesture. Whitty nodded and approached him. 

The tall bomb headed man leaned over Pico, looking down the same row of seats he was. It didn't take him long to catch on. "We must be on the right track. Wait, is that a curtain?" Whitty reached over Pico to pick up and hold the 'blanket' which was, in fact, part of a stage curtain that had been cut. Pico felt his heart clench. B was using a curtain for a blanket, he must be cold. Pico looked at the chairs/bed. One of the seats had a pile of clothes/costumes haphazardly bunched together, probably being used as a pillow. This was just… sad. Bf didn't deserve to live like this. 

While Pico looked at the seats, Whitty took a second to inspect the curtain. It was red on one side, and white on the other side- wait, no, the other side had red too. In weird splotches and smear-like patterns. Whitty held it stretched out in front of him, the white and red patterned side facing him. The patterns looked inconsistent not just in size and shape, but in hue as well. Some of the red splotches looked darker almost..wet, while others looked faded, like stains. Whitty touched one of the darker red spots with his thumb, surprised when it was actually wet. Realization suddenly dawned on him, this wasn't a pattern. Now he was worried. "Hey Pico?" His scratchy voice quietly called, Pico turned around to look Whitty in the eyes. Whitty held the curtain in a way that only let Pico see the shiney full-red side and not the 'patterns'. "I'm not entirely human, so correct me if I'm wrong but… human blood is red, right?" Pico gave him a confused and worried look, then nodded hesitantly. "That's what I was afraid of." Whitty admitted, turning the curtain around so Pico could see. Pico's white eyes shot open wide, before giving Whitty a panicked look. Pico's heart dropped.

Just as Pico was about to say something, there was a loud *CRASH* from a distance. 

Pico and Whitty's attention snapped towards the stage, it looked like a shelf had fallen over from backstage. Frantic footsteps could be heard. Neither of them had to say anything, they both bolted towards all the noise. Running up the small stairs to the stage. They ran towards the backstage area. Their own footsteps echoing as their shoes hit the wooden floorboards. Whitty, with his longer strides, took the lead ahead of Pico. Once they arrived at the backstage room, they saw the metal Exit door slowly closing. Whitty slammed it back open, dashing through it, Pico not far behind him. Once outside, they had stumbled into a fenced in parking lot. Street lights illuminated the empty lot, now they could see the other person running away from them. They were short, around Pico's height. They had a black hoodie on, the hood was up so they couldn't see their head. Even so, Pico was sure that it was Boyfriend. It had to be. 

The hooded person ran into the parking lot's locked gate. Attempting to climb over it, but they weren't fast enough. Pico and Whitty were on their tail. They still tried, though. They were clearly struggling to get up the fence's bars, it looked like they kept slipping, like they couldn't grip the bars. Just as they were about to make another attempt to climb, Whitty caught up to them. The tall bomb man swiftly wrapped his hands around their torso, easily lifting them off the ground. Like holding a kitten. They helplessly swung their arms and legs, attempting to free themself from Whitty's grip. Amidst all their wild flailing, the hood came down, revealing a familiar face with blue hair. Boyfriend. They found him.

"N-no! Let me go! P-Put me down!" Boyfriend yelled, his voice filled with panic. His eyes were closed, and tears soaked his cheeks. Whitty knelt down to bring Boyfriend closer to the ground, still not letting go. "Hey! Hey… Boyfriend, it's just us. It's okay." Whitty did his best to keep his scratchy voice steady, hoping to calm down the terrified bluette. Despite not having the most soothing voice, it seemed to help a bit. Bf stopped flailing and yelling for the moment, his eyes snapped open. He seemed to have come to a sudden halt. His fearful eyes scanned the environment around him. Pico tried to approach him slowly, he didn't want to spook the poor guy more, but he too, was shaking. He had seen Boyfriend scared before, sure, but not like this. This was a new level of absolute terror. He looked so… fragile. Like if someone so much as flicked him, he'd fall to pieces. This was a far cry from the Boyfriend Pico knew. The dumb, reckless, confident man was no where to be found. What really struck Pico though, was the noticeable dampness of Boyfriend's hoodie sleeves. Pico figured he must have been injured, and he had to help. 

In the moment though, he was overwhelmed. He was happy that they found him. He was also worried about him. Part of him was angry. After all the weeks spent searching for Boyfriend, after spending those weeks bottling up all his frustrations, fears, grief, worry. He had reached his tipping point. He couldn't hold back anymore. The tears in his own eyes couldn't be stopped this time. Pico threw away his inhibitions, and just ran up to hug Boyfriend. Pico buried his face in the crook of Boyfriend's neck, and dug his fingers into his blue hair. He was there, they actually found him. And he'd be damned if he lost Bf again. His own face was wet with tears. "G-god Damn it you- you fucking idiot. Don't scare me like that again. F-fuck." Pico's voice shook, sobbing, his cries making it harder to speak. Whitty let go of Boyfriend's torso, instead wrapping his arms around both Pico and Boyfriend, trying not to cry himself (emphasis on tried). A few of his hot, orange tears fell onto the other two boys, but neither seemed to notice.

After a few moments, Whitty and Pico pulled back from the hug. Pico kept his hands on Boyfriend's shoulders, he didn't want to let go. His attention was once again brought to the dampness of Bf's hoodie, he knew it had to be blood. "B… let's go home." Apparently that was the wrong thing for Pico to say, as soon as he did, Boyfriend panicked again. "I-! N-no! I don't want to see her again please Pico-! Don't make me go back!" Pico rushed to ask what was wrong, startled by Bf's reaction. "B, who are you talking about?" Pico gently grabbed Boyfriend's hands, he wanted to be comforting, but that changed when he noticed Bf heavily flinched, and his hands were wet. Pico gently brought Bf's hands into the light. His hands were cracked and bleeding. Badly. The skin and flesh looked like it was just barely holding on to the bones. Some of the blood was dry and crusty, while some of it was fresh. Pico furrowed his brow. "B… what happened?" Bf began crying again. "Gf.. She.." Bf's voice trembled, his lip quivered. He started sobbing. Whitty's orange eyes widened, in a spur of the moment, Whitty gathered both the shorter males in his arms. Lifting them off the ground and standing at his full height. "Hey Pico, why don't we all head to your place?" Pico nodded, still holding Bf's hands. "You can stay with me, B. I promise I won't take you to Girlfriend. She won't even know we found you, okay?" Bf looked into Pico's white eyes, then Whitty's orange ones, before slowly nodding and letting out a barely audible "okay". 

Whitty carried them to Pico's car, he decided to sit in the back with Boyfriend so he wouldn't be alone while Pico drove the car (they moved the front passenger seat as far up as they could to make more legroom for him). Bf was huddled to Whitty's side, the tall, warm, bomb man made him feel safe. Whitty had one of his arms wrapped around Boyfriend, hoping to comfort him. The bluette was still crying, but not as much as before, he seemed to have calmed down slightly. No words were exchanged during the car trip to Pico's house. 

Once they arrived, Whitty gently carried Bf into Pico's house and carefully set him down on Pico's couch. Pico ran off to grab his first aid kit from his hallway closet, mentally preparing himself for how wrecked the rest of Bf's arms might look. He didn't want to end up freaking out and scaring Bf more. Pico moved to sit next to Boyfriend on the couch. "Okay B, show me what hurts." Boyfriend seemed hesitant, Whitty, who was sitting at Bf's other side, rubbed his back. The small gesture seemed to comfort Bf a little, and he removed the black hoodie he was wearing, hissing as the fabric pulled away from his wounds; he was only wearing a tank top under it, so the damage to his arms was revealed easily. Boyfriend's arms looked worse than his hands did somehow. Cracked and bleeding, in some places, it looked like the skin had stitches only to fall apart more and undo them. He could see the bone in Bf's elbow and shoulder. 

Pico felt sick. It was a mystery how Boyfriend wasn't just screaming in anguish. Pico took a quick glance at Whitty, who also looked appalled at the gorey sight before them. Pico looked into Boyfriend's teary eyes, then back at his arms. "We should take ya to the hospital." Pico said nervously, his gauze and hydrogen peroxide couldn't fix this. "I-I already tried that. They couldn't- *sniff* they couldn't stop it. I-It's magic." Bf confessed, Pico noticed Whitty's expression changed from shock to sympathetic. Whitty gestured to Bf's arms "Was this Girlfriend's magic?" Boyfriend nodded. Pico felt rage bubbling in his core. His attempt to keep calm and collected was thrown out the window. "Did she do this on purpose!? That's it! Imma beat her ass!" Pico whipped out his gun. Furious. "I'm gonna pump that bitch full of lead!" Pico was about to storm out his house when both Boyfriend and Whitty stopped him. "PICO DON'T!" Bf and Whitty said in unison. Whitty gripped Pico's arm (which was super easy seeing as his hand was big enough for his fingers to wrap all the way around Pico's forearm), and Boyfriend hugged him, burying his face in the crook of Pico's neck. "Why the fuck are you two stopping me!?" Pico shouted, still undeniably pissed. "Please don't go, Pico!" Bf cried. "Listen dude, as much as I'd love to see ya give that girl more holes than swiss cheese, if you even try it, her family will kill you. Plus, if ya went to her now, they'll know we found Bf, and who knows what they'd do to him then!"

Pico hated to admit it, but Whitty was right. He'd just make it worse by confronting Girlfriend. Her family was powerful, her parents would definitely come after all of them if he tried to do anything to her. His anger was screaming at him to go and blast her with his Uzi, but reason objected to it. Pico sighed, and put his gun on the table. "Alright. Yer right. I'm sorry." Bf hugged him tighter. "Thank you." He said quietly. "Well, if I can't shoot that bitch, let's at least try to solve… this." Pico gestured towards Bf's arms, which were bleeding all over him in the hug. Whitty rubbed the back of his head, unsure. "Well, demon magic did this in the first place, maybe another demon can undo it?" Whitty offered, Pico thought about it, it made sense. If hospitals couldn't treat a curse, might as well try magic. "I can't say you're wrong, the issue now is finding a demon who would be willing to help. The only other demon I know I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw her. Do you know anyone?" Whitty shook his head. The three stayed quiet. Pico wracked his brain for anyone who might be helpful. Maybe his dad knew someone who could help? Probably not. His brother definitely hung out with demons and whatnot, but most people his brother hung out with were bad news. Not to mention he hasn't spoken to his older bro in a long ass time. That was a no go. Who else could he ask? Pico glanced at Whitty, he appeared to be going over various options in his head too. They were silent until Boyfriend chirped in. "I might know someone. Maybe tomorrow we can find her?" Pico shrugged. "I guess that's just what we gotta do. For now though, you should go get cleaned up. You remember where the shower is?" Bf nodded, and started walking down the hallway. "I'll bring you some clean clothes you can borrow!" Pico called, Bf replying with a distant "Thank you" before disappearing around the corner. 

Pico made eye contact with Whitty. He might not have known this guy too well, having only met him a couple weeks ago, but the time they spent working together trying to find Boyfriend made Pico appreciate him. He wanted to know more about him. Whitty was so helpful, even managing to calm Pico down when he was two seconds away from snapping. He found the gentle giant fascinating and comforting. "Hey Whitty?" Whitty let out a curious "hmm?" 

"I just wanted to say thanks.. For everything. You've been really helpful and great and.. I really appreciate it." Pico's earnest tone made Whitty's cheeks glow slightly. "It's no problem. You don't have to thank me or anything. I just.. Wanted Bf to be safe too, ya know?" Pico nodded understandably. "I wish we coulda met under better circumstances. You seem like a great guy, I uh… I'd really like to keep hangin out with you. Maybe once we get this whole curse thing sorted out, we should do something together? Maybe all three of us should." Pico felt color flooding in his own cheeks now, feeling somewhat nervous. Whitty smiled. "I'd like that." Pico let out a small chuckle. "Cool. Cool. Sounds good." 

An awkward lull took the conversation, neither saying much. Whitty eventually stood up and stretched, feeling a bit sleepy. "Well, I should head out. I'm gettin tired. Want me to meet up with you guys here tomorrow?" Pico hesitantly nodded, he almost offered to just let Whitty stay the night, but if he had plans to go home, who was Pico to stop him? "Sounds good. Imma uh.. Get some clothes for B." Pico attempted to make the situation less awkward, he was never good at goodbyes. "Yeah, that'd be good. I'll see you tomorrow." Whitty and Pico parted ways after that. Now, Pico just had to help Boyfriend. Hopefully this woman he was talking about can reverse whatever demon spell was on him..

Pico let Bf borrow his spare pajamas, and threw Bf's clothes in the wash. He wasn't sure if the washing machine was gonna be able to get all the blood out. As he was going through it, he noticed that the inside of Bf's jeans were bloody too, the curse must've been affecting his legs as well. Pico kept the 1st aid kit out, that way he could bandage what was left of Boyfriend's limbs. While Pico tended to the bluette's wounds, he made small talk with Boyfriend, hoping it would put him at ease. It seemed to help. Eventually it became time to turn in for the night. Both boys were exhausted.

 "Hey Pico?"

 "Yeah B?" 

"Can I sleep in your bed with you? I don't wanna be alone."

"... Yeah. C'mere."

"Thanks Pico."

"No prob. G'night B."

"Good night Pico."

[eddieeatsass]

On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 4/5 Read Chapter 3 Here  /  Read on AO3

Richie’s room was nicer than Eddie’s, way nicer. It’s not that Eddie’s room was bad, in fact he’d spent a good amount of time admiring it earlier, it’s just that Eddie’s room was like the discount version, and Richie’s was designer. Where Eddie’s room had gotten tall windows, half of Richie’s wall was taken up by a fireplace. Eddie supposed it was a trade, someone who preferred a nicer view might say Eddie’s room was the winner, but there was something undeniably romantic about your own fireplace. Richie’s room also seemed to have a newer TV, mounted on the wall across from their bed. The TV in Eddie’s room was older and hid behind two panels of wood in a cabinet. Simply put, Eddie was very glad Richie had decided to bring them here. Richie flopped on the bed immediately, overdramatizing how exhausted he was just from limping his way down the hall. Eddie hid a knowing smile and joined him. “Thank you for saving me, I was about five minutes away from dying of boredom.” Richie drawled. “Well, I can’t promise you’ll have any more fun here, but you’re welcome. ”Richie let his head loll to the side, regarding Eddie closely before speaking again. “No, I’ll definitely have more fun here. ”The insinuation was brash, Richie didn’t even bother trying to hide it behind a joke. It made Eddie’s gut clench in unusual ways. He brought his thumb up to his mouth, the habit of gnawing at his fingernails a hard one to kick, but was interrupted by his own gasp as his hand came into view. His knuckles were starting to bruise, tender to flex and even more tender to touch. He hadn’t noticed any pain earlier, too caught up in Richie to even think about anything else, but now that he was staring at his fist the ache began to echo under his skin. “You just notice that?” Richie asked gently, noting the horror in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie could only nod, his gaze fixed on the evidence of his breakdown. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at his hand, but when Richie’s entered the frame Eddie startled. He’d gotten a hand towel from the bathroom and wrapped some ice in it, which Eddie could only guess was provided in their minifridge. Richie guided Eddie’s hand down to his lap, placing the ice pack atop his knuckles gently and murmuring an apology when Eddie hissed at the sudden coldness. They stayed silent for a few minutes, simply sitting in each other’s presence as the ice dampened the cloth atop Eddie’s hand. Eddie was the first to speak, keeping his eyes downcast as he admitted his guilt aloud. “I’m not a violent person, you know.” He could feel Richie’s eyes on his face but didn’t give in to the lure. “Yeah, I know.” Richie reassured. “But Bowers is an exception-”“No, he’s not.” Eddie snapped. “If I sink to his level, I’m just like him.” Eddie wasn’t sure if Richie would get it. They had both been targets of Henry’s attacks, but Eddie never wanted anyone to feel the way he’d felt, not even Henry himself. Eddie’s mind was constantly replaying all the times he'd had his face shoved into the dirt, the way the gravel would stick to his wounds, the shouts he’d receive from his mother upon getting home. Henry was a god-awful human, but that didn’t mean he deserved to feel that same pain and sorrow. That wasn’t going to change anything; you can’t break the cycle with the same bullshit that fueled it. “I didn’t mean to do it.” Eddie whispered. “I just snapped.” Richie immediately scooted closer, an action Eddie wasn’t expecting or prepared for. He looked up and met bright blue eyes, tender and open and completely void of judgement. “You’re nothing like him; you didn’t want to hurt him. Bowers wants to hurt people. ”Eddie looked back down at his hand, flexing his fingers and watching as the makeshift ice pack slid off and landed on the sheets. “You know…” Eddie began thinking out loud. “I’ve felt the brunt of a lot of people’s insecurities. I don’t usually mind being projected on, it’s easy to see through the words and figure out what’s actually going on behind them. I’ve even gotten good at doing it with Henry, though he’s a bit of a different breed… But there was something about the things he said today... they felt more personal.” Richie listened intently, allowing Eddie to spill out into the space between them, his vulnerability a tender wound. “Whatever, it’s stupid.” Eddie was quick to dismiss his own feelings, covering them up with a shrug of his shoulders that attempted to pass as indifference. “It’s not stupid.” Richie insisted. Eddie stared down at his uninjured hand as it picked at a thread on the blanket beneath them. “Listen, I don't know what Henry said, but you're not suddenly a super villain for fighting back one time. The first time I was called a fag, I threw a mug at the dude’s head.” Richie admitted aloud with a chuckle. “We were in a coffee shop and I was on my first date with a guy. I ended up having to pay for the broken mug and my backtalk. ”Eddie perked up like Richie had just given him a straight shot of smelling salts. All other sound in the room fell away as Eddie homed in on Richie’s voice, trying to discern if he was dreaming or not. “Safe to say it was not a very good first impression.” Richie laughed lightly, completely unaware of the way he was flipping Eddie’s world upside down. “Anyway, all I’m trying to say is you’re not the only one who’s lost their cool before. You’re human, you’re allowed to get upset when people treat you less than.” Eddie was sure Richie was making a good point, was sure what he was saying held some wisdom that could potentially help, but he was guilty to say he hadn’t processed a word of it. He was too caught up on the fact that Richie had dated guys before. Stan’s words echoed in his brain ‘You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog’, fucking Stan was always right, even with that stupid metaphor. Richie had begun talking again, but Eddie didn’t hesitate to interrupt him, this new revelation too significant to pass by. “You like boys?” Eddie blurted out, all grace and subtlety left behind with his spiraling thoughts. Richie froze in place, his hands up in a gesture Eddie was sure had something to do with what he’d been talking about, but now looked comically out of place. Slowly, Richie lowered his hands to his lap and regarded Eddie with a new look, one that held enough cockiness to knock the wind out of Eddie. “Grinding my dick on you didn’t send the message?” Richie teased, raising one eyebrow and swiping his tongue across his teeth. Eddie suppressed a full body shiver, averting his eyes from Richie’s intensity. “I thought you were maybe, like, I don’t know-” “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.” Richie said with a twang that went straight to Eddie’s pants. He blamed Brokeback Mountain. “Well, it isn’t mine either.” Eddie defended instinctively. He watched as Richie’s eyes flicked down to his mouth and back up again, quick like a hummingbird and with all the same charm. “So, then what’s the issue?” Richie’s voice had lowered, taking on something much more intimate and sultry. It made Eddie’s heart rate spike. “I guess there isn’t one.” He breathed. “Good, because I’ve been wanting to do this all day.” Eddie barely had a moment to breathe before Richie captured his lips in a hungry kiss, his hand burying itself in the hair at Eddie’s nape to pull him in closer. The gesture almost made Eddie go limp, as if he were a cat being held by its scruff, submissive by instinct. He opened his mouth pliantly, allowing Richie in with a welcome of his own tongue. Eddie couldn’t believe that this was happening. Just a couple hours ago he was fisting his own cock, fantasizing about the way Richie tasted. Now he knew. Richie was a cold fire, stoking Eddie’s lungs with mint and cinnamon spice. He tasted like the frost outside, and the embers that kept you warm. It was comforting, enveloping in a way Eddie couldn’t describe. Eddie pushed against Richie, guiding him to lay down on his back so Eddie could climb atop his lap, resuming the same position they’d been in the night before. This time, however, there was clear determination between them. There were no longer hesitant touches or swallowed moans, every move was purposeful, made with intent. Eddie wasn’t shy to shed his sweater, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible now that they were finally happening. “Your body, god, do you know how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you?” Richie grabbed Eddie’s bare waist in near disbelief, awe shining in his eyes. “Less than 24 hours?” Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes and his hips in tandem. Richie groaned and tightened his grip, stilling Eddie forcefully. “Try years. You think I didn’t notice you until Mrs. Harrow forced us to sit together?” Eddie flushed even hotter, his skin reddening to match the fire that Richie was stoking. Richie grinned at Eddie’s speechlessness, pushing forward. “I noticed you for the first time in sophomore year. You were trying out for the track team at the same time as Mike and we were in the bleachers cheering him on. I was gone the second you walked out onto that grass. I tried to be respectful, but I couldn’t stop imagining myself squeezed between those thighs that your tight little track shorts did a great job of highlighting.” Eddie tried to recall that moment, tried to visualize Richie in the bleachers with his floppy hair and lopsided glasses, but all he could remember was the adrenaline he’d felt going behind his mother’s back, too busy to notice anything else. “I never stopped noticing you after that, in fact I’m surprised you never caught me looking your way during class…” Richie moved his hands to begin trailing up Eddie’s thighs. “But the second time I really noticed you, was at the end of that school year. We had a heat wave and the AC broke, d’you remember that? The school had no idea how to deal with it, so they just chucked us outside and gave us popsicles from the freezer in the cafeteria, probably because they were going to melt anyway. But you sat there in the middle of the field sucking on your popsicle like it was the best fucking thing you’d ever tasted. You might have been miserable like the rest of us, but you were too focused on your treat to pay any mind to the weather.” Eddie’s throat was going dry, his head beginning to feel light and airy as he listened to Richie talk. “That night I dreamt you were sucking my cock, that same euphoric look on your face as if it were that damn popsicle.” Richie’s hands reached Eddie’s hips and traced the curve around to his ass, causing Eddie to stutter a breath as his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones. “I’ve thought about fucking you for years, Eds, to see you cum on my cock and hear you cry my name. I would do just about anything you asked me to, just as long as I can make you feel good.” Eddie had never been this aroused in his life. Every single nerve in his body was buzzing like a live wire, his toes already curling just from Richie’s words alone. “What if I asked you to take your clothes off?” Eddie braved, his voice shaky. Richie sat up, bringing them chest to chest. “Anything. You. Asked.” Richie punctuated each word with a featherlight kiss to Eddie’s lips. The butterflies in Eddie’s stomach went wild as he watched Richie begin to strip off his shirt. He did it slowly, keeping his eyes on Eddie as Eddie’s own raked down the newly exposed skin. Richie's skin was pale enough to rival the snow outside, spattered with fewer freckles than Eddie’s, but enough to break up the milky complexion. He was thin but still held definition, especially as Eddie’s eyes reached the ‘v’ of his hips that dipped into his waistband. Eddie swallowed thickly and nodded towards the spot where Richie’s hands were already hovering over his waistband. Eddie had to swing his leg off Richie and move to the side to let him shimmy his pants down his legs, every new inch equally as mesmerizing. “Like what you see?” Richie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Not sure yet, I think I need to see more.” Eddie whispered back, tension thick between them. Eddie could see where Richie was straining against the fabric of his boxers, tenting them to an intimidating level. The way his mouth watered at the sight made Eddie feel absolutely depraved, lewd in a way that only added to his arousal, made him want to spread his legs wide and offer himself up whole. The moment that stretched between them as Richie pulled his boxers down felt like an eternity. Eddie lived, died, and got reborn all in the span of that second. Richie’s cock was heavy, springing free for only a moment before falling back against his stomach. Eddie could see Richie moving in his peripheral, getting comfortable back against the duvet after throwing his boxers to the floor, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off his dick. He felt fingers carding through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and finally Eddie tore his gaze away from the challenge that sat before him. Richie’s smile was smug, but his eyes seemed vulnerable. Eddie realized he was waiting for his next command, unsure how they’d fallen into that pattern but not opposed to continuing it. Eddie felt powerful as he raised on his haunches and moved to where Richie’s legs were spread. He watched Richie’s face, noted the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his fingers twitched as he tried not to move. Eddie lowered his head so it was level with Richie’s cock, pausing just a few inches away so his breath grazed against it as he spoke. “Fuck my mouth.” Eddie directed, lust overwriting his usual nerves and replacing them with boldness. Richie’s breath shook as he let it out slowly. “Jesus fuck, Eddie…”Richie’s hands travelled back into Eddie’s hair, gentle at first and then gripping at the base. He guided Eddie’s head the rest of the way down and shuttered when Eddie finally took the head in his mouth. Eddie instantly felt intoxicated, like Richie was the strongest absinthe man had ever made. He greedily gulped it down, laving at the underside of Richie’s cock as it glided into his throat. Drool was already pooling at the corners of his mouth, but Eddie paid it no mind, his only focus on drinking in as much of Richie as he could. He knew right away there was no reality in which he could take all of Richie at once, at least not without a lot of practice, so he committed his mouth to the top half and his hand to the bottom. His fingers barely met as they wrapped around Richie’s shaft and gave an experimental pump. Richie groaned, and Eddie took it as a good sign. He repeated the motion with a twist of his wrist, tonguing the slit of his cock where precum was leaking out greedily. Eddie could feel Richie’s legs tensing where he had his free hand splayed across his thigh. Every time he teased the underside of Richie’s head that muscle would jump, and it almost became a game to see how quickly Eddie could make that muscle twitch, his tongue moving faster and faster against that sensitive spot and causing Richie's legs to vibrate. “Oh my god- fuck, ahhhh-h-how are you so good at this…” Richie’s voice was wrecked, raspy and low and breathy all at once. Eddie just hummed in acknowledgement, sending vibrations up Richie’s shaft that made him hump up into Eddie’s mouth. The action caused Eddie to gag and he reveled in it, moaning like a whore in heat. He was so far gone he barely noticed when Richie pulled him off suddenly. “Okay you’re too good at that.” Richie panted, his chest heaving. Eddie’s head was cloudy, the only conscious thought chanting ‘more, more, more’. He blinked a few times, trying to shift the room back into place. “Why did we stop?” Eddie asked dumbly, his words a bit slurred. “I didn’t want to cum yet. I sort of thought… maybe, if you wanted to, we could-” “Finger me.” Eddie blurted out, his senses coming back to him but not all gracefully. “I mean…” He cleared his throat, face beginning to flush. “…please." Richie looked liked he’d just won the lottery and been slapped across the face at the same time, a dopey kind of smile accompanying his features. “You don’t have to be polite about it, Eds. I’m kinda digging this whole dictator thing you’ve got going on, actually.” Eddie giggled adoringly, calmed by the way Richie was able to dissolve his nerves so quickly with such a disastrously dumb joke, even at a time like this. “Gimme a sec.” Richie leaned forward, catching Eddie’s lips in a chaste kiss before he was springing off the bed. “I know that bastard has lube somewhere.” Eddie watched as Richie began searching through what he assumed to be Bill’s suitcase, throwing things to the side in a frenzy. He finally came across a toiletry bag and ripped it open, rifling around for only a moment more and emerging with a small bottle of clear liquid. “Will Bill mind if we use it?” Eddie worried his lip between his teeth, not so much caring about the answer but asking anyway out of respect for his new friend. “Nah, he’ll just be happy I’m getting laid.” Richie winked and those damn butterflies acted up again. Richie crawled back onto the bed, setting the lube to the side temporarily. He returned his attention to Eddie, a renewed twinkle in his lust blown eyes. He crowded Eddie’s space, towering above him but lowering his head so their lips grazed against each other. “Let’s get these off, hmm?” Richie’s fingers stroked lightly at the waistband of Eddie’s sweatpants. “I thought I was the one giving orders.” Eddie teased back, voice barely above a whisper. Richie hooked his fingers under the waistband and pulled, letting it snap back against Eddie’s stomach as he released it with a shuttering breath. “Alright Kaspbrak.” Richie let his body fall backwards, bouncing lighting as it hit the mattress. He brought his hands up behind his head and made a show of getting comfortable. “I am at your mercy.” That same emboldened feeling consumed him once again, a confidence only Richie seemed to instill in him. It was intoxicating, much like everything else about Richie. With a smirk, Eddie backed up off the bed and stood in the middle of the room. Eddie kept his eyes focused on Richie as he began to pull his sweatpants down, going painstakingly slow just to see Richie’s reaction. He saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed back his desire, a nearly imperceptible twitch making his cock jump in intrigue. Eddie kicked his pants to the side where they joined his long since discarded sweater, and then all his focus diverted to his neglected cock. All earlier thoughts of whether Richie would like his body were gone, he knew Richie liked his body, and he was planning on milking that for all it was worth. Eddie palmed himself over his underwear, letting his head fall back and his mouth drop open as he finally offered himself the stimulation he needed. He looked down and noted that the white fabric had gone translucent where his cock had been leaking against it, giving Richie a peek of the pink head underneath. He heard Richie whimper from the bed but paid him no mind, indulging in his own senses for a moment. He continued to tease himself through the thin cloth until he couldn’t take any more, finally allowing his hands to wander to the waistband and pull the underwear down his thighs. Richie was silent, watching so attentively that a pin could be heard dropping in the room. Eddie kicked the last piece of clothing off to the side and immediately let his hand wander back to his own cock, tugging it a few times and allowing himself to moan at the sensation. He heard the bed squeak and opened his eyes to see Richie crawling towards him. Gone was Richie’s passiveness and submission, replaced with a new hunger that made Eddie’s legs quiver. Richie reached his arms out and pulled Eddie in until his legs hit the edge of the mattress. Even with Eddie standing and Richie kneeling on the bed, he was still a good few inches taller than him, and he used that to his advantage while crowding into Eddie’s space. “You can’t tease me like that.” Richie whispered into the shell of his ear, kissing right under it and beginning a path down his neck. “I didn’t mean to.” Eddie answered honestly, succumbing to the warmth of Richie’s lips and letting his head tip back once again. “Just felt so good…” “I can make you feel even better.” Richie promised, ghosting his hand down Eddie’s torso and just barely grazing his cock. Eddie moaned, arching into the faint touch and whimpering as it left. “Please…” Eddie’s jaw was slack, the word falling out without a thought. Richie continued making his way down Eddie’s body, sucking marks against tan skin as he passed. He paused at Eddie’s nipples to give them special attention and Eddie keened, grabbing at Richie’s hair in sudden desperation. Richie swirled his tongue around one bud, allowing his hand to pluck the other until he switched. He nipped lightly enough to cause Eddie to shutter and then sucked to soothe the reddening skin. He continued his trail downwards, licking along Eddie’s hip bones and kissing the juncture between his thighs and his pelvis, avoiding Eddie’s cock purposefully. Pleas were falling from Eddie’s mouth steadily now; his hands tugging weakly on Richie’s hair to try and guide him towards pleasure. Richie swiftly gathered Eddie in his arms, catching him off guard in his haze of lust. He moved back up the mattress and laid against the bed board, situating Eddie so he was laying across his body. “I bet your pretty little hole is just begging to be touched.” Richie murmured, reaching for the bottle of lube and hastily pouring a generous amount on his digits. Eddie moaned at the lewdness of the comment, his hips moving against Richie’s and causing their cocks to grind against each other. He could feel a wetness smearing against their bellies, similar to the wetness Richie was spreading between his fingers. He watched as Richie’s hand disappeared behind him and then he felt the warm press of a finger at his entrance. The feeling was somewhat familiar; Eddie had fingered himself countless times before, he wasn’t new to pleasuring his prostate. But this was the first time anyone else had ever touched him there. It was difficult not to focus in on every small sensation, to not grind up against Richie like a virgin being touched for the first time. Richie teased the pad of his finger around his rim and unsurprisingly, Eddie fluttered in response. He could hear Richie’s laugh reverberating in his chest where Eddie laid his head. He closed his eyes and spread his legs a bit wider, silently ushering Richie to continue. The first slip inside was uncomfortable. It always is, no matter how turned on you are, but it was also euphoric in a way Eddie was never able to make it for himself. Richie’s fingers were thinner than Eddie’s, but significantly longer, and soon enough Richie was already in to his knuckle. Eddie breathed steadily, allowing his body to get used to the intrusion. Richie followed his queue, stilling for a moment until Eddie nodded minutely against him, signaling him to continue. The next finger wasn’t too much harder than the first, and soon the discomfort ebbed away to make room for pleasure. Richie worked his fingers in and out, scissoring them to stretch Eddie open as much as possible before a third was added. It felt way better than Eddie had ever imagined it would. Richie’s fingers weren’t clumsy or unsure like Eddie would have thought, they were precise with their pressure and quick to find the spots that made Eddie melt. He went at the perfect pace, allowing Eddie his time to adjust but not waiting too long to lose their momentum. Arousal bubbled hot in Eddie’s stomach, searing his skin at every spot where they were connected. His breathing had become labored, and his hips had begun their own little rotation where he ground himself down into Richie. Every time he did, he felt Richie’s cock twitching against his, eager to escape the slot between them and burry itself inside Eddie. And in that moment, Eddie wanted that more than anything. “Fuck me, now.” Eddie demanded breathily, holding no more space for patience. “You sure you’re ready?” Richie checked, his own breath seeming to stutter. Eddie whined indignantly, raising himself up on shaky knees and grabbing both of Richie’s wrists. He pulled them away, deft fingers slipping out of him easily and falling to the pillow beside Richie’s head where Eddie pinned them. “Now.” Eddie repeated, grinding his ass against Richie’s cock and coating it with lube. “I’m gonna die here and it’s gonna be the happiest day of my life.” Richie rushed out, eyes squeezed shut and face flushed a blotchy red. Eddie removed one hand and reached down to grasp Richie’s cock, marveling once again at its size. He was sure he was going to feel a stretch, but he craved it at this point. With determination and just a little too much arousal for rational thought, Eddie lined himself up and began sinking down. The stretch was… a lot. Eddie let out a pained whimper as Richie’s head breached his rim, and suddenly there were hands all over him, cradling his face, petting his hair, steadying his hips. “Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Richie rushed to comfort him, kissing the spot between Eddie’s eyebrows where he hadn’t realized he’d furrowed them. “We can stop at any point. You want to stop?” Eddie was stubborn, he knew this about himself. He was aware that his stubbornness had gotten him into trouble in the past, but it had also earned him some of the best moments of his life. He didn’t want to end this prematurely and look back on his first time with remorse, but he also didn’t exactly want to rip his asshole open on a high school ski trip. Eddie decided he just needed a minute, so he shook his head and told Richie as much. Richie continued to rub his back, his hair, anywhere his nervous hands could settle. He seemed on such high alert Eddie wasn't sure how his dick wasn't flagging. Eddie winced as Richie inched down the bed carefully, lying himself flatter and pulling Eddie back down to his chest. Eddie closed his eyes and focused on Richie’s heartbeat, feeling Richie moving above him but paying it no mind. He jumped in surprise when Richie’s hand joined his dick, but his body relaxed instantaneously as he felt those soft fingers begin to massage extra lube around his rim. As the seconds passed Eddie could feel himself opening up under Richie’s touch, his muscles relaxing and his temperature rising. Richie was clearly feeling the heat himself, as he’d started to rock his hips gently beneath Eddie’s. The action was gentle, inching him further into Eddie in torturously small increments but not pushing him past his limits. It was beginning to drive Eddie crazy as his craving for more became overpowering, all the pain from before having subsided. Without warning, Eddie pushed himself back on Richie’s cock, feeling his fingers flutter around his hole at the sudden movement. He was quick to use his hand to steady himself at the base of his cock, holding it still for Eddie to fuck back on. Richie let out an elongated breath, swearing profusely at the end of it. It made Eddie blush and move faster, his hips taking on a rhythm of their own. Eddie was on cloud fucking nine. His body lit up like a live wire, electrifying him with every move he made. Richie appeared to be just as affected, his mouth stuck open in an orgasmic ‘o’, his eyes practically rolled back into his skull. Richie had been quick to match Eddie’s pace, thrusting up into him feverously, hands clamped on to Eddie's hip as tightly as Eddie was clamping around his cock. "You're so fucking huge." Eddie moaned, the statement coming out honestly despite sounding like a script from a bad porno. "Holy shit, you can't say stuff like that or I'm gonna blow my load." Richie responded, chest heaving. "I'm serious, it feels like I'm being split open, god Rich." "That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble." Richie's thrusts were speeding up, becoming more erratic. Eddie almost felt like he was riding a bull, clenching his thighs in a desperate attempt not to be bucked off. "Then shut me up." The response was instantaneous. Richie flipped them over, pressing Eddie into the mattress as he pounded into him mercilessly. He brought one hand up to Eddie's mouth and shoved two fingers against his tongue, forcing Eddie to suck on the digits. Eddie gagged on them like he would Richie's cock, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth and mixing with the tears that had escaped without notice. He was completely fucked out, his brain unable to process anything besides Richie. "I'm gonna cum." Richie warned, his orgasm approaching rapidly after being so on edge for so long. Eddie didn't mind, his own release not far behind. "Cum inside me, please, want to feel you." Eddie begged, unaware of his desire until it was suspended right in front of him. "Fuck, unnnf- god, Eddie." Richie said his name like a prayer, bringing his hand up to stroke Eddie's neglected cock. The sensation was downright sinful, the best thing Eddie thinks he's ever felt in his entire life. It caused his toes to curl, most of the muscles in his body seizing up at the pleasure. Richie's hips stuttered a few times and then he was overwhelmed with a warmth deep inside him, Richie's cock pushing through it to press diligently into his prostate. Eddie came with blinding lights in his eyes, his body convulsing as waves upon waves of euphoria flooded his senses. He's pretty sure he screams, but he could have been completely silent and it would have sounded the same to his deaf ears. Eddie's not sure how long he lays there in fucked out bliss, his mind completely separate from his body, but when he finally tunes back into the world around him he's alone in the bed. He looks around to find Richie and spots him crouched on the ground by the fireplace, tinkering with the button to light it up. Electric flames suddenly burst alive behind Richie's silhouette, highlighting his long legs as he stretches back up and turns to regard Eddie. "Hey." His voice is gentle, not quite a whisper but close enough to one that the greeting still felt secretive. "Hi." Eddie matches his tone, his throat appreciating the low register after being abused not too long ago. "I thought I lost you there for a minute." Richie crawled back into bed, pulling the thick duvet over them. "I think you did." Eddie admitted sheepishly. "That was fucking... wow." Richie laughed at the advanced vocabulary Eddie was able to implement at that moment. "Wow is right." Richie agreed, welcoming Eddie as he crowded into his space. The silence fell upon them naturally, their bodies and minds too exhausted to bother with much else. It was a long while until Eddie pipped back up. “Was that your first time?” Eddie asked quietly, his eyes having drifted closed from the comfort of being satiated in such a new way. “Mm-mm.” Richie answered carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “First time was with Ally Mae Espin. It was a mess.” Eddie hummed for Richie to continue, too content to respond vocally. “It was in Bill’s garage in 8th grade. It lasted exactly two minutes and neither of us finished. I had blue balls for the rest of the night, but honestly, I didn’t even care. I’d realized as soon as we’d kissed that I wasn’t into her the way she was into me. I don’t regret it, but as far as first times it’s pretty anticlimactic. Literally.” Eddie giggled, nuzzling closer into Richie’s warmth. He felt fuzzy all over, invincible to the evils of the outside world. He thinks he could probably survive an avalanche right now, completely safe inside Richie’s arms. “What about you? How was your first time porking the hog?” Eddie scrunched his nose in disgust, peering up at Richie judgingly. “First of all, ew. Don’t ever call it that again. And also… this was my first time.” Richie’s eyes widened a fraction, an unreadable but unmistakable softness within them. “Shit, Eds. I wish you’d have told me, I would have at least tried to perform better.” Predictably, Richie was trying to hide his vulnerability with humor. Also predictably, Eddie could see right through it. “It was perfect. You were perfect.” Richie seemed to gnaw on the inside of his cheek, so Eddie continued. “Ten out of ten, would pork again.” That earned a surprised laugh from Richie, and Eddie considered his mission accomplished. He could work on Richie’s insecurities more later, but for now, at least he knew Eddie didn’t regret what had happened. They fell back into another stretch of silence, the crackle of the fireplace background noise to their steady breathing. Eddie had almost fallen asleep when Richie spoke again. “Did you always know you wanted to be a mechanic when you were younger?” It took a moment for Eddie to fully re-inhabit his body, wondering why his slumber had been interrupted for such a random question. “Huh?” “You know, kids are so indecisive. One minute it's 'I'm gonna be a doctor' the next it's 'I'm gonna be an alien superstar princess'. Did little Eddie have lots of dream jobs or was it always a mechanic?” Eddie took a moment to think, having to dig through all of the expectations and responsibilities that had piled on top of him over time, shielding his passions and replacing them with pragmatic plans for the future. "I always wanted to be a mechanic. Actually, I even wanted to open my own garage when I grew up." Richie listened intently, allowing Eddie to continue. "My dad was a mechanic. I learned a lot just from watching him, and then when he passed away I continued learning under a guy named Isaac, until mom decided it was too messy and too dangerous for me to be in the shop. I always believed I would grow up, open my own place where my mom couldn't ban me from being, and name it after my dad." Richie's face fell at the mention of Eddie's dad's death and he cursed himself for bringing it up. People always felt uncomfortable at the mention of death, and even though Eddie had long since accepted that his dad was gone, he always had to suffer through people’s weird grief reactions that, more often than not, made him feel worse. However a few moments passed and Richie still hadn't said anything, so Eddie braved a look upwards. "What's your favorite car?" Eddie was taken aback, already in the process of mentally preparing himself to field the same old questions he'd long since memorized his answers to. He blinked a few times, a smile creeping up on him without his permission. Richie continued to surprise him at every turn, and Eddie was absolutely giddy about it. "You're gonna make fun of me." Eddie sighed, infinitely grateful for Richie somehow always knowing exactly what to say and when not to say. "I absolutely will." Richie nodded. "1966 Volkswagen Type 2." Richie seemed to contemplate it, nodding slowly before bursting into a side splitting smile and letting a little laugh go. "You’re right, that's hilarious." Eddie laughed along, but still slapped his chest playfully to at least act offended. He snuggled in closer, settling his head on Richie’s chest. "It's just that the hippie lifestyle doesn't exactly match the Eddie Kaspbrak I've grown to know and lo-" Richie cut himself off just as Eddie's heart skipped, both of them falling silent for a moment before Richie cleared his throat and marched onwards, his own heart beating rapidly in Eddie's ear. "I'd have guessed you were a smart car kinda guy." "Why? Cause I'm small?" Eddie challenged, trying (and failing) to return his heart rate back to normal. "Yeah. Small, compact, can fit a surprising amount in its backseat." Richie moved his hand down from where he'd been rubbing circles into Eddie's lower back and tapped one of his cheeks. "Careful! I'm still tender." Eddie pouted, unknowingly looking far too cute for Richie's fragile sanity. Richie kissed the top of Eddie's head and Eddie kissed him back between his collarbones, absolutely smitten with the way Richie handled him. "I like the freedom of it." Eddie admitted, picking the conversation back up. "I've always felt trapped in this town, it's comforting to think of owning something that can take me anywhere." “Technically anything with two wheels can accomplish that.” Richie pointed out. “Yeah, but with a van I don’t have to worry about where I’m gonna sleep. I can live out of it for as long as it takes me to get to my destination.” “Where is your destination?” “New York.” Eddie answered automatically, surprising the both of them. Richie’s arms tightened around Eddie, erratic laughter falling from his lips. “EDDIE!!!” “WHAT!?” Eddie was being jostled now, Richie’s happiness contagious even though Eddie had no idea what was happening. “NEW YORK IS MY DREAM!” Eddie finally connected the dots, realizing a little late what that meant. If Eddie wanted to move to New York, and Richie wanted to move to New York, then they could theoretically move to New York together. The notion made Eddie’s belly do flips. “Oh, yeah, I guess that is kind of perfect huh?” Eddie answered, far more bashful than he'd expected himself to sound. “We can get a little apartment downtown where you can open your own garage and I can work at whatever coffee shop will hire me while I practice my standup routine on the weekends! We'll be a dynamic duo, running the streets of New York together. It’s FATE!” Eddie couldn’t deny that it did feel like something cosmic was at play. Richie was this boisterous, loud, chaotic puzzle piece that somehow fit perfectly into the slot on Eddie’s board. He pushed Eddie’s boundaries, encouraged him to challenge his world and rethink the ways he’d been taught to live. Being around him was invigorating, but it also felt like home. Eddie realized with terrifying clarity that he didn’t want to spend another day without Richie in his life. He couldn’t fathom how he’d done so before; looking back felt like watching a black and white film in contrast to the technicolor movie magic he was living in now. Richie had lit up a spot in Eddie’s life that he hadn’t even realized had been dark before. Eddie trailed his hand up Richie’s chest and found the back of his neck, tilting his head down to face Eddie. He moved slow, bringing their faces close together so their lips barely touched. Richie’s skin was soft, his lips plump and inviting as they trembled beneath Eddie’s. They breathed each other in as Eddie nosed at Richie, watching as his eyes fluttered closed and his brain took a backseat. Eddie hummed a nearly imperceptible laugh and finally slotted their lips together, lingering in place for just a second before parting. It was teasing, but not in the sense of arousal. Eddie left Richie with a million thoughts on his mind and nothing but big brown eyes as answers. “I think I passed out for a second there.” Richie breathed shakily, effected in exactly the way Eddie’d intended. “You’re going to take me to New York one day.” Eddie decided aloud. Richie was all shy smiles, dipping his head low to try and hide his blush. “I sure fucking hope so.” Richie responded quietly, looking back up at Eddie through inky curls. Eddie pushed his hair to the side, tucking it behind Richie’s ear and letting his hand fall back down to his chest. “You will.” They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms with thoughts of the future fueling their dreams. Eddie knew that nothing was guaranteed. Two days can’t rewrite your whole life, and once they left the resort and re-entered Derry, he was sure that all the expectations and pressure he’d superseded were going to come back full force. But somehow, he felt more prepared to face them. They didn’t hold the same weight as they once had, because now Eddie knew he had a whole world outside of the one his mother had built for him to exist within. That world might just be Richie Tozier, but it was a thousand times bigger and brighter than the solitude he’d lived in before. For once, Eddie was excited to live.

[silverwhiteraven]

Not a Rabbit in the Magician's Hat

Chapter 1: The Nutcracker

[A/N: Hello and welcome to my first ever chapter fic, second MLB based fic, third fanbased work, and fourth work I've worked on in earnestly in a long time!! Thank you so much for reading, and small shout to my FeliNette Discord Server peeps for inspiring me! I hope y'all like it~!! [Posted on Ao3] [Also the title is a bit of a WIP, it may change, eventually]]

[Summary: Félix is back, and with the same goal in mind as the year before. Only now, he has to plays the long game. And play a little more nice, too, except he's no longer on the playground he's used to, oh no. Now, Félix is among the heroes with a Miraculous of his own, and the playground is now a much more difficult battlefield with new pieces in play. And to top it all off, he has to deal with a whole new school and all the people inside. This is going to be tricky, isn't it? And to think, it wasn't a rabbit keeping a magician company, no, its a mouse or two keeping tabs on this master of slight-of-hand. At least it was somewhat fitting, even if he didn't like being called a rat every so often.]

Ladybug gazed over the scene before her, taking in all that she could. The Akuma, Mazer, had fused the walls of buildings together seemingly randomly, eliminating alleyways and cutting off streets, turning the city of Paris into a giant and infinite maze, much resembling a labyrinth with the Eiffel Tower at its center. Wandering between the walls of the giant maze were minotaur-like golems, chasing and trapping anyone they encountered.

Almost like a prize at the end of a game, Mazer's Akumatized object, a compass, hung in the air between the beams of the tower, surrounded by several layers of cage walls, too tightly woven to climb through and too far apart between layers to Cataclysm in one shot. 

Ladybug really didn't like this.

After long moments of quiet surveying and pondering, she did the first thing that she knew how to do best: summon her Lucky Charm for a clue.

Down from the sky and into her open palm came a Nutcracker.

She barely needed to glance around without seeing anything useful to know that this truly was a hint rather than an actual piece of a puzzle like her Charms usually were. It wasn't lost on her that there was a theme emerging. 

She looked at the maze, full of half-bull monsters needed distracted, then to the small spaces between the bars of the cages around the Akumatized object, then down to nutcracker, and lastly, almost reluctantly, up at Chat Noir beside her, watching her with silent curiosity and anticipation. She smiled with confidence in herself and her gut feeling about this.

"Chat, I know you trust me, and I trust you, too."

"Of course, Bug, what brought this on?" He tilted his head in a curious manner, a slight grin gracing his features. 

"Switching things up a bit. You're not playing decoy this time. In fact," she states almost mischievously as she stands, "you'll be finding one. I need to go get a Miraculous, and you get to pick who uses it."

She smiled as she watched him spring to his feet, excitement written all over him with the possibilities he could choose from. 

"Stay here, and don't get in trouble, I'll be back in a flash!"

She found herself curious, too, as she swung away through and over the walls of the maze, back towards home. She didn't know the right person for the Miraculous she was going to get, yet she had the feeling Chat Noir did. She looked at the Nutcracker in her hand, wondering if it would have a different meaning in Chat's eyes. 

She landed on her balcony and slid into her room through the open skylight, de-transforming and making her way below her bed to her work area, setting the Nutcracker to the side. Se knelt in front of a large box marked "Old Designs" that sat below the desk, opening it with a key hidden under her shirt. 

It was a large version of her diary's trap box, designed to keep the Miracle Box safe and secure. She pulled out the red and black Box, pressing one of the spots gently. The spot slid out, revealing a hollow, open topped tube with a Miraculous nestled into shimmering grey velvet.

She gently lifted the pendant necklace, the Miraculous of the Rat, out of its drawer. The theme she had noticed earlier had pointed rather obviously towards it. A maze, a goal where only something small could reach, and multiple enemies needing distracting by more than simply two or three heroes could provide. 

The nutcracker Lucky Charm hinted at it, too, the main enemy in the story The Nutcracker was the Rat King. But she had a feeling that it had more than one reason for taking that form.

She set the Miraculous into a round black jewelry box, which she had made to resemble the spots on the Miracle Box. She couldn't exactly reuse the old boxes from Master Fu, she didn't have enough of them, and she was guilty of wanting the smaller individual boxes to match the large one's new design. And design she admittedly didn't like very well. She wished the Box had been transferred to 'Marinette' and not 'Ladybug', but no time to dwell on that again.

Still, one of these days she was going to test if she can transfer it from her hero identity to her civilian one.

Locking the Miracle Box back up and transforming once more with Tikki, Ladybug grabbed the Lucky Charm Nutcracker and left her room, returning to Chat Noir who had loyally and wisely kept his distance from the Akuma and the minotaur golems. 

He looked to her, giddy and expectant, waiting for his instructions. She looked back at him with pride, full of joy for having him as a partner.

They had their rough patches in their first year, plenty really, but after she became Guardian and was faced with the need and requirement to know his civilian identity, things truly began to get much smoother.

She learned he was Adrien Agreste, one of her best friends, the popular, quiet and sweet model of the class. He was the boy who was so amazingly attentive to emotions that he helped her civilian self realize within a few days of meeting that she didn't have a crush on Adrian so much as a "squish": a want to be his friend. She had a feeling it was good that he spoke to her about why she was acting odd, she's quite sure things would have gotten a bit out of hand if her thoughts, emotions and behavior went unchecked. 

Learning his identity under the mask also helped to clear a few misunderstandings with Chat Noir. 

For example, Marinette had learned a few months into knowing Adrien that he was Ace. He still wanted a partner in life, he made sure to clarify that he was not Aro, and he paid much more attention to emotions because he wanted to be certain of who he wanted, who he would give himself to and who he would accept for himself. 

But his home life wasn't the best place emotionally, only getting worse after his Mother disappeared, and that followed him in his public life, too, including at school, so he didn't have many outlets for his canned affections for the people he loved and cared for. Learning this, she understood why Chat Noir would often be overflowing with energy and positive emotions, showering Ladybug in his abundance of love. 

He admitted he did consider her romantically, but only as a secondary to her status as his super-best friend. He respected her feelings, even from the start, and she appreciated it endlessly. Though she had to admit, it was rather confusing at first, and a bit aggravating when it came out at the wrong times. She didn't help much at first, either, as her attempts to be somewhat emotionally closed off and professional while behind the mask made their communication and even trust rather lacking. 

So learning he was Adrien allowed her to understand him far more, and lead her into working on herself for his sake as well, not just her own. She relaxed and allowed herself to be far more open, even invited him to outings around Paris, opening him up to vent all his pent up emotions, both negative and positive, and that in turn lead to better performances against Akuma. Chat hasn't been controlled or tapped out of existence in over nine months. 

It was truly a blessing for them for her to know, the good luck of it no longer disguised behind the stressful possibility of them becoming endangered by knowing.

In fact, barely a week after finding out, Ladybug told Chat that she knew, and offered to let him know her identity as well. He declined with the widest grin on his face, saying he wanted it to be kept secret, leave the reveal to be a special moment, or even something he might discover on his own. They laughed together, and she told him she wouldn't hide from him if he ever did decide to change his mind and take a peek behind her mask. 

But enough of that, ladybug returned his excitable grin and held out the black jewelry box and the red and black Lucky Charm. 

"Chat Noir, this is the Miraculous of the Rat which grants the power of Multiplication. You will find someone to use it for the greater good. As soon as the mission is over, they shall return the Miraculous to you, and you shall return it to me. I'm counting on you."

The sun was in his smile and the stars were in his eyes as he took the small box and the nutcracker. She just knew this was a good choice, she could feel it as deeply as their very bond ran. A bod she could feel strengthen as she trusted him with another new thing. He's her partner after all, a fellow protector of the lives of Paris, she would trust him with her own life, too, as well as the responsibility of all the Miraculous they had in their hands.

"I won't let you down, see you soon, Ladybug," and with that he was gone. She watched him go, waiting for him to disappear before she took up his spot of waiting and task or keeping an eye on the Akuma victim.

❇❇❇

It had been almost a year since Félix had last set foot in Paris. He has since mellowed out from his mischievous habits, grown aggressive around the time of his Father’s death, but it didn't stop him from still knowing and utilizing his skills when the need arose. The distance from the city however did no good for his grudges against either his family-in-law or the heroes of Paris. 

During a video call with Adrien a few months back, his cousin's father had walked in, reminding Adrien of a previously arranged engagement. He barely spared Félix a glance before leaving, yet the young Graham de Vanily still noticed a little, majorly significant detail about the old Agreste. 

A silver wedding band still sat upon his finger. 

Félix was suspicious in an instant, even going so far as to end his call with Adrien sooner than intended, and brought the revelation straight to his mother. They brainstormed together, considering the options and possibilities that this brought.

How did he have the other ring of the twin set? They thought Emilie had gone missing, her half of the set should have gone missing with her. They didn't like the churning of their stomachs that thought gave them, the Graham de Vanily pair didn't like the possibility that Gabriel Agreste could have something to do with Amélie's twin, Félix's aunt, Adrien's Mother, the man's own wife, going missing.

Félix may have had a grudge against Gabriel for having one the Graham de Vanily's family rings, but having had both while neither belonged to him, while Emilie didn't even have hers? It was unforgivable.

Trying to negatively influence the Agreste image through the use of his similar looks to Adrien was a jab at the old Agreste, but it had never been enough, especially now, in light of this disastrous news. 

Even that stunt with Ladybug wouldn't have worked well enough to knock the man down from his pegs. 

Félix had yet to tell his Mother the full extent of what had happened that day in Paris. He quickly realized afterwards that he regretted what happened, and would have regretted it still either way if he had succeeded. 

Kissing her would have gotten him nowhere with slandering the Agreste family. Ladybug seemed like the person to keep problems she had with people to herself, not make them public, so that plan would have failed anyway. Yet the kiss itself would also have been regretted. Giving his first to a hero he didn’t know for the sake of a half-baked hope to get a strike against the older Agreste, and have a little ammo against his cousin if need be, too, was a terrible idea, and there was no way he would ever attempt it, or anything like it, ever again. 

Even if it was for his Mother’s sake. 

There will always be other plans and strategies, he just needed to think of them, and think them through this time, no more spur of the moment ideas.

Still, Ladybug didn’t need to punch him as hard as she did… It was a good hit at least.

He may not hold a grudge for the strike that she was perfectly and fully allowed and entitled to do in reaction to his actions, but he certainly held one against the Black Cat. 

That stupid comment, how dare here, Félix thought. He really did non want to think about that, especially since it still hung true in spite of his better efforts. 

The young Graham de Vanily forced his attention away from himself and the past year, and instead looked out one of the dining room windows of the Graham de Vanily’s newest manor estate located in Paris, France. The city looked disheveled and unorganized, a true labyrinth maze fashioned perfectly for the latest Akuma. 

He hoped it was dealt with soon, he needed to go greet his Uncle Gabriel and Cousin Adrien at their manor later, inform them of his family’s plans to stay in Paris, hopefully without giving any real intentions away with failed attempts to cover up his seething hostility towards his Uncle and whatever he had to do with his Aunt Emilie’s disappearance. 

“Felix!” called an overly joyous and too familiar voice from behind, and the said boy, pulled from his thoughts, whipped around in alarm. 

Crouched on the dining room table just like any normal cat that shouldn't be there, a window open wide behind him, was Chat Noir, a cheshire grin and gleeful eyes locked and aimed directly at Félix. 

He decided to ignore the fact that there was an out of place, red and black nutcracker in one of the hero’s hands. His mother had joked he was just as stiff as one, once, and if he wasn’t so mean or even cold-shouldered towards people his own age, he would be just as princely as the one in the tale, too. Yes, he much prefers not to think of that at the moment.

As he looked at the Black Cat, Félix was starting to regret coming to Paris for another visit. He had a sneaking suspicion that the heroes were going to be popping up around him without warning all over again, and with more frequency now that his visit was going to be indefinite rather than limited to a day. 

Gods, he bet the Akuma were going to be showing back up to haunt him, too. Oh, what kind of luck he must have to have gotten this kind of fate.

Félix crossed his arms in a defiant, almost proud manner as he settled his weight on one foot and stared down the famous Black Cat of Paris. “What do you want, stray? I won’t have you mocking my friendships again, and I won’t be making the same mistake twice, so you can leave back out the way you came.”

Chat Noir looked momentarily shocked before hunching and smiling sheepishly, sliding off the table to stand properly on the floor. “I wanted to apologize, actually.”

Félix’s arms loosened with shock of his own, but managed to remain crossed. He looked Chat Noir up and down, looking for any signs of deceit. 

He found none, just a regular hero trying to make amends in the middle of a rather pressing Akuma attack. What odd timing.

He supposed, however, that almost a year wasn’t all that bad a wait for an apology, considering there really was no possible proper way for the hero to make an apology to someone living in an entirely different country. And he couldn't very well expect everyone to be like Adrien, his overly sweet cousin who would catch when he said something wrong before Félix had enough time to fully react and would amend himself just as quickly. He was lucky for his cousin, the least he could do was count his blessings and give others the chance to make things right as well.

Felix shifted onto his other foot a bit awkwardly and nodded once in a stern yet accepting manner. “Go on.”

The Black Cat seemed to relax at that, standing us straight and looking Félix in the eye with determination and a hint of respect. 

“Félix, I’m sorry, for what I said to you last time you were- well, last time I encountered you in Paris. What I said about your friendships was spur of the moment and defensive of the people I care for, but it was rude and mean, you didn’t deserve that. I would have apologized then and there, but the Trio of Punishers going after Adrien- well, you- arrived a bit too soon for me to do that. So I’m here now.”

The crashing steps of one of the stone minotaurs outside interrupted the black clad hero for a moment, and a look that seemed like he was reminded of something crossed the hero’s face, morphing his speech into something a bit more rushed.

“Right, anyways,” he continued, “I’m sorry, again, I really am. You don’t have to forgive me or anything, I just want you to know that I at least don't hold anything you did against you, for whatever reason you did it.”

The Black Cat then tilted his head a degree, a curious look on his face. “Though, I guess I would like to know why, I really should ask why before I do anything else.”

Félix sighed, dropping his head and shaking it gently. Of course the hero would ask, why wouldn't he. Adrien had been respectful enough not to pry, but this was a hero, a protector of an entire city, cat-like curiosity aside, he had a duty to know things and protect people with that knowledge. 

“I assume you mean my actions towards Adrien and his friends, and Hawkmoth as well. I suppose I can tell you, but I won’t hesitate to pull your tail and twist your ears if you tell anyone else besides Ladybug.”

Félix’s weight shifted once more and his arms uncrossed, hand set to his hips as he raised his head and looked the hero in his unnatural green eyes. Chat Noir mimicked his shifting around, though now his arms were the ones that were crossed, preparing himself for whatever he was about to hear.

The hero gave an accepting nod, “Not a word. Go ahead.”

Félix hesitated only a split moment before answering.

“I was after the Graham de Vanily twin rings, family heirlooms that Gabriel Agreste was in possession of. They’re important to my family, I wanted to get the one Uncle had, and give it to my mother. I had nothing against Adrien, not really, even if he did think I did. I was rather convincing in that front. No, It was all just jabs toward Uncle, even… even that rather brash and rash moment with Ladybug, which I do regret fully.”

Félix looked away for a moment as he continued. 

“I wanted Hawkmoth’s help in getting those rings, I figured he could do it when I couldn't earlier that day. I failed at that, but I did manage to get the ring from Uncle’s finger anyways before I left.” He looked back towards Chat Noir, who was considering him thoughtfully. 

“I did, however, find out some time later I failed anyways.”

That seemed to catch the Black Cat off guard for a moment. “How so? You have his ring, what could you have done wrong?”

“I underestimated him. I found out by chance that he had both rings.”

The hero’s eyes went wide in comprehension of what that could imply. The look made it clear that the Black Cat knew at least a little bit of the happenings of the Agreste family, and what a terrible thing it could possibly mean for Emilie Agreste if Gabriel really did have her ring while she was assumably missing. 

Chat Noir almost looked like he wanted to argue, to deny, and to question Félix more all at once, but he kept quiet, his mouth firmly closed. Félix let him stand there and ponder it for a moment before bringing up the much more pressing concern at the moment.

“So, Chat Noir, why are you here? Paris is currently under siege, right? Why be here making yourself on good terms with a citizen when you could be fixing that instead?”

The look of reminder crossed the hero’s face again and Félix almost wanted to roll his eyes at how many things this stray needed to keep track of. He almost felt a bit bad for him, today was clearly busy, if not a bit overwhelming.

“Right!” The hero got a look of excitement, “Now that's cleared up, I need your help! Well, want your help, but it would be purrfurrable if you did agree to lend a paw.”

“A paw.” Félix gave a mildly surprised yet very skeptical look. “What kind of, ‘paw’,” he quoted, hiding instinctive air quotes behind his back now that the cat themed hero decided to leak his puns into their serious conversation, “do you need lended.”

The smile of the Black Cat once more turned cheshire.

“Félix Graham de Vanily,” the destructive half of the Paris hero team spoke like he was a king appointing a new knight, his hand suddenly coming out towards him, a black box clutched in his fingers, “This is the Miraculous of the Rat, which grants the power of Multiplication. If you choose to accept, you will use it for the greater good. Once our mission is over, you will return the Miraculous to me, or Ladybug if I’m not there. Can we trust you?”

[lunanight2012]

Descendants 2 with Harry Hook x Cindy Luna Charming

Just a heads up, this version of Cindy is a bit of a sad one, Chad doesn’t care about her, her mother is the only one that cares about her, her only friends are the vks.

warning: rape almost happens

I couldn't believe Mal went back to the Isle! Of course I went with them to go get back Mal. I had grown close to all the Vks. And of course Eveie had made me an Isle outfit. Light blue leather. Never realized how much I loved it.

We stood outside of the hide out. I was pacing, waiting for Ben to come back down. I took a look down the path we came from and saw a red scarf fluttering against a board. I headed down the path, taking the scarf in my hands, freeing it from its trap in the wood. Suddenly a cloth was put over my mouth, silencing my screams.

"Take er to the ship, we'll grab the king. This princess might come in handy." A scottish voice spoke. 

I couldn't see anything as I was gagged,  blindfolded, and had my arms tied behind me, but I could feel the cold metal from what I could assume was a hook, which both scared me and…. Thrilled me.

"This one is mine." The Scottish voice stated, close to my ears, causing me to shudder.

I was suddenly thrown over someone's shoulder and was carried away. The rotting smell of the Isles waters smacked me in the face. I felt myself being carried onto a ship and brought down some rickety steps before being thrown onto the wooden floor, my blindfold being roughly torn off my face but the gagged remained.

A man in black pirate getup cackled from the other side of the bars of my cell. "I can't wait to see what Harry does to ya." He exclaimed before walking away.

That was the last straw, I scooted over to the farthest corner and cried into my knees. I was scared. I began to shake from fear when I heard a commotion uptop. They were keeping Ben upstairs.

I began to shake even more. Especially when slow footsteps sounded at the stairs. 

"Well well well…. Damn it Bonnie! He was supposta leave ya in my room unharmed!" The scottish voice growls as he enters my cell and walks towards me.

I cower in fear, shaking with fear.

"Hey, lassie, it's ok. I'm not gunna hurt ya." He explained in a softer tone.

I slowly looked up at him and allowed him to remove the gag from my mouth.

"W-what do you want with me?"  I finally managed to get out after he walked me to his cabin and had me sit on his bed.

"To know ye a bit more." He explained as he rummaged through his drawers.

"Why?" I asked looking down at my lap.

"Because Luna, I have been watchin ya on the tele. And I think ye are amazin." He stated before smiling as he turned around, holding a bandaid in his hand.

"R-really?" I stuttered with a blush as he placed the bandaid on a cut I didn't even know I had on my cheek.

"There ye go. Oh wait let me free yer hands." He exclaimed, cutting the rope that tied my hands together.

I rubbed my wrists a bit before setting them in my lap. 

"May I ask what your name is then, since you know mine?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Harry Hook." He introduced with a slight bow.

"Harry! Uma's lookin for ya!" Another voice called through the door. I recognized it as the son of Gaston.

"I shall be right back my lovely." He bowed again before quickly leaving the room, locking it behind him.

Whether that was for my safety or not was beyond me. I was still slightly scared. I knew the group wasn't going to risk rescuing me. What was the point. Ben was more important. He was the king after all.

I was the youngest of Cinderella's kids, only by a few minutes but still.

The VKs were my friends. But even if I was them I would leave me behind too. Maybe Chad will get over it. My parents certainly will. Momma might miss me but papa and Grandfather always wished I was more proper and ladylike. They wouldn't miss me….

I began to scratch at my arm, something I did when I was sad, anxious, or worried.

I heard a noise and quickly hid in the corner, scratching my arm worse and trying to make myself seem small.

I heard fighting up on top of the deck, I looked out the window and saw a hook go underwater then Harry diving in after it. My scratching became worse the moment the fighting stopped.

My arm was on the verge of showing more muscle than skin at this point. I heard footsteps stop at the door and I could feel myself shaking in fear as my scratching stopped.

The door opened to reveal a very wet, very annoyed Harry. He went wide-eyed when he didn't see me where I was when he left.

"Luna??" He asked worried.

I made a sort of squeak noise which drew him to the corner that I was huddled in. He noticed my arm and frowned, helping me to sit back up on his bed he rummaged through his stuff again. 

"How did ye get hurt? I made sure no one would hurt ye." Harry grumbled as he continued looking for bandages.

"I-I did it to myself." I whispered, looking down in shame.

Harry stopped and looked at me. "What??" 

"I scratch when I'm scared, nervous, sad, worried….." I explained, expecting him to turn away in disgust, like almost everyone did when they found out about this horrible habit I had.

"Luna. That's something I'm gunna have to break ye of. Ye shouldn't feel that with me. I'm gunna protect ye, no matter what." He explained before going back to his search.

We stayed quiet as he found a good sized bandage, putting it on my wound. He stood back up and grabbed a dry pair of pirate clothes. 

"Imma go change in the chip shop I shall return shortly." Harry explained, leaving with a bow.

I sat on his bed, think about how Chad is gunna react when I'm not in my room….. or is he even gunna notice that I'm gone? The door handle began to turn and I looked up, expecting to see Harry.

Only for it to be who you presumed was Bonnie. "There you are lassie~~! I was wondering where Hook was hidin ya! You're coming with me~~!" Bonnie chuckled, grabbing my hurt arm roughly.

"H-Harry!!!! Help me!!!" I called out with tears in my eyes as I was forcibly dragged down the hall.

"He can't hear ya lassie, he's not even on the ship! Which means I get to have some fun!" 

You were pushed onto a horribly stinky bed to which I tried to climb off of, only to be slammed back onto with my hands trapped above my head.

This Bonnie guy was kissing my neck, I started to cry as I felt him reach his hand up my skirt. No no no no! Please no!

"Oh, lassies a virgin. All the better~~!" 

"Harry!!!! Help me~~~!" I cried, squeezing my eyes shut as I braced myself for more unwatiled touching. 

It never came. I opened my eyes to see a hook at Bonnie's throat.

"Ye are gunna let me girl go or I'll make sure ye are swimmin with the fishes!" Harry threatened.

Bonnie released me and moved away, I scrambled to get up and hid behind Harry, shaking like a leaf. He held me close and walked me out of the room.

"I'm takin ye somewhere safer than here." He explained, taking my hand and running with me out of the docks and to a familiar place.

"Mal's hangout?" I asked, looking at him curiously.

"Yea. I dropped a hint to Jay about findin ya here." Harry admitted.

"Ye'll be safer back in Boredon then here." He stated, throwing a rock at the sign, causing the door to open.

"Go on." He gestured.

"First… tell me one thing about yourself.." i stated.

"Huh?"

"You wanted to get to know me, well first you have to tell me something about you."

"Oh um well, I'm the son of Captain Hook, the drunkest pirate in all the land, he even beats Captain Jack Sparrow in that." Harry frowned.

"I'm the daughter of Cinderella and Prince Charming, I am the youngest twin. My full name is Cindy Luna Charming. My father and Grandfather don't care about me. I have 4 friends, Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos…. And now you!" I smiled and kissed Harry's cheek before quickly running up the steps. I whistled at Harry and dropped the light blue scarf I had rescued.

"A gift from me to you." I said with a wink.

20 minutes later, Jay rushed into the hideout to see me spray painting my own design onto the wall.

"Luna~~!" Jay whistled, causing me to jump.

"Jay!" I exclaimed, hugging him.

"Come on, we've gotta get you ready for cotillion." He exclaimed.

We headed through the barrier, I couldn't help but look back, wishing I could see Harry again.

~~~~~~Cotillion~~~~~~

Of course Chad didn't even notice I was gone. He was too busy using Carlos and Jay's 3D printer. And then I learned he ran off to go help Audrey? Yea so I went to Cotillion alone. Kinda sucked but I smiled as the cameras took my picture on my way into the party. My dress looked just like my mom's old dress that her step  sisters destroyed. I walked onto the ship and went straight to Jay.

"Hey Jay… I have a question." I stated, looking up at him.

"Whats up Luna?" He stated smiling down at me.

"D-do you think that if Mal goes back that you can take me with her?" I asked hopeful.

Jarly lifted in eyebrow in curiosity. "Why? The Isle is dangerous! You almost got hurt!" Jay stated, keeping his voice low.

"I don't care. I left someone back there who deserves a chance at this life." I stated, looking back at the Isle.

Soon Lumiere announced Mal's arrival. Looking back at her I smiled at how pretty she looked. Although those colors didn't really match her style.

I walked over to where the VKs were and smiled at Mal. Ben's arrival was announced and stuff went down hill.

Uma had arrived. At least I'm assuming that was Uma. 

~~~~~The Chip Shop~~~~~~~

~~~~~~3rd Person POV~~~~~

Harry watched the crappy tv as Uma appeared. Smirking as he knew what her plan was. Suddenly the camera panned to the VKs, and Luna. Oh did she look amazing.

"Hey ain't that the lass that Harry had?" One of the crew questioned.

Harry grabbed his hook and pointed at their neck. "Ye best shut yer mouth right now!" Harry threatened.

He went back to his seat and watched as Ben announced that Uma was going to be his Lady of the Court and that he was going to take down the barrier.

"Maties, WE RIDE WITH THE TIDE!" He exclaimed and the crew cheered.

~~~~~Cotillion~~~~~~

~~~~~Luna's POV~~~

I couldn't believe it. Uma spelled Ben. Everything seemed to be a blur. Mal broke the spell, Uma jumped overboard and became an octopus person. Then blackness.

~~~~~3rd person POV~~~~~

Evie shouted when she saw Luna get smack and knocked unconscious by Uma's tentacles. Mal got mad and turned into a dragon, and well you know how the fight went.

Uma gave Ben back his ring before diving under the water.

Luna finally woke up, sad that everything was done and that the barrier wasn't actually coming down. So she left to go sulk in her room.

~~~~Chip Shop~~~~~~~

Harry frowned as he realized he wouldn't be free. He wouldn't get to see Luna. He frowned and tied her scarf around his neck before sauntering home.

He walked across the ship, whistling a tune. Suddenly stopping he walks towards the camera. “What? Ye didn’t think that was the end of the story did ye?” He asked, rubbing his hook across his face before walking away, whistling the pirate’s life song.

[shogetsus]

Stripes of Auburn, Eye of Sapphire

23. Masamune

Read on Ao3 | Read on FFN |  Masterlist

Summary: The only certainty he can find among all his thoughts is, in merely a little more than a month, Mai Mizusaki has managed to wring her way into the hearts of his men, his associates, and in Masamune’s head. And that such a person, such a bright flame, can probably be found once in a lifetime.

Sounds about right coming from someone who pretty much fell from the sky…

No spoilers

Masamune

The birds announcing the coming of dawn stir him from his sleep, humming contentedly and feeling quite relaxed for the first time in a very long while. When has it been since he had a dreamless sleep? Certainly, it makes it all the better, turning to the side and finding comfort in the warmth of a plushy pillow next to him on his futon.

Huh?

Or rather, not a pillow in fact, but a person.

His eye snaps open wide, first noticing a face under a bundle of long copper hair cradling closer to his chest, tugging weakly at the front of his juban. A soft breath fans against his collarbone before that face hides from sight on the crook of his neck. Masamune shivers at the sensation, yet all the more so as he recognizes that particular scent.

It’s not his tiger rousing him awake, but Mai. Not too different from Shogetsu—in terms of both appearance and personality—although she makes a far better sight to see, first time in the morning.

Worth to mention as well, they’re sprawled over her futon, not his.

A drowsy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, content and satisfied. What a way to wake up, Masamune can’t help to ponder on. Turns on, the lass was right and he had been missing on a quite pleasant experience.

Skepticism aside, he never bothered to prolong his escapades and affairs until the next morning before, opting on the security of his futon. His nights might be plagued by unwanted nightmares and memories of the past, but that’s an issue he has to deal with alone—such as all his responsibilities and duties as daimyo.

However, waking up with Mai’s warmth all over—feeling her alive—is surely a welcoming change of pace. If asked right away, Masamune’s certain he wouldn’t mind at all making it an indulgent habit.

“Nngh… five more minutes…” She mumbles onto his neck, rubbing her cheek against him, yet not giving any signs of returning to the world of the living anytime soon.

“Minutes? What’s that?” He wonders aloud, voice thick with lack of use. Her reply comes off as more incomprehensible than before, but it’s worth trying. Probably another future custom of hers…

For the moment, he settles with smoothening her hair for a while, relishing in the feeling of her silky locks against his fingers while doing a mental check of his schedule for the day. As in his nature, Masamune can’t keep lazing about for much longer, starting an arduous task of disentangling off her arms.

“You’re the cutest kitten, but I really have to start the day though…” Dropping a lingering kiss atop her head, he finally leaves the futon, partially struggling to not look back in case he might regret it.

Last night’s teasing games left dried remnants of ink practically ruining one of the tatami mats, and so Masamune adds a matching replacement onto his mental list. Procuring another inkstone, there’s one nearby to where a delicately crafted cup holding a single plum blossom lies, curiously at one far corner of the room.

Looks like a gift, but… why does it look like it’s hidden from prying eyes?

And yet, he’s in no place to ask about it, dropping the wonderings as fast as they come, more content with focusing on writing the first letter of the day.

“You bring very good recommendations, lad. I bet you will fit in with the guys in no time,” He smiles contentedly, wrapping up the boy’s letter and setting it aside on his desk.

“Thank you!” The young man, Tadamasa, beams at him as if he’s been given the most heartfelt compliment. “I swear I won’t let you down, my Lord!”

His eagerness somehow warms Masamune’s heart, feeling himself reflected in the boy for a brief moment. Given his education and willingness to serve, surely he’d climb up the ranks with ease and, most likely, give Yojiro a run for his money, although that’s a good thing. In the long run—assuming he’ll be up for it—he might even take over some of Yojiro’s scouts and lessen his hard work.

The boy might be a tad bit too younger to take up arms for his liking, but admittedly, so was he back in the day, leaving little room to complain about. Regardless, as long as Tadamasa is truly sure serving him is his calling in life and is determined to see it through, the truth is he’ll be just as welcomed as anybody.

“That’s good to know. Though first consider introducing yourself to the rest of my men. Some are not that easy to keep up with,” Chuckling amicably, Masamune settles into a more relaxed position, hoping to cut with all stiffening formalities. “I have to ask, though. Got any other news from my cousin? Something he hasn’t said on his letters, perhaps?”

“Well, I’m afraid I haven’t seen Lord Shigezane since his departure to Oshu. But considering my father is settling there to oversee the construction as we speak, I might get news soon enough—“

The lad is cut short by a sudden yet polite knock on the door. “Masamune?” A familiar voice calls somewhat shyly from the other side, “Is now a good time?”

His eye shoots to the entrance, smile widening. “Is that you, Mai? Come in!”  

As the shoji door slides open, she comes inside with a happy and somewhat eager step on her feet, carrying a small bundle of rolled up parchments. But the kitten’s grin falters at the sight of Masamune’s companion. “Oh, I wasn’t told you had a guest,” She worries her lip, seemingly worried about having interrupted something, “You want me to come back later?”

“It’s alright. I’m basically done with the lad here,” Clapping his knees, he stands up, and Tadamasa does the same as in cue, “You’ve got something urgent for me?”

“Not really. Just bring a note from Nobunaga and, um,” She trails off, a slight blush creeping up her face, “… Taking up your offer to having lunch together,”

Right, he indeed left her a note beside her futon asking her to have lunch as well as bring some examples of her designs along with. It’s not like Masamune had forgotten already, but hadn’t considered the morning would go out that fast. “And I’m glad you did! Thanks,” Approaching her with confidence, he tucks Nobunaga’s note in his breast pocket, not even needing to take a look to know it’s merely a scheduled war council.

A polite cough prompts his eye away from keeping roaming all over the lass. “May I ask, Lord Masamune, who is this?” It appears Tadamasa has also been eyeing her curiously.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders—if only to tease the lad a little—they face him. “This is Mai. She’s both a Princess of the Oda and chatelaine of this Castle,” Then, Masamune points his chin towards the boy’s direction, “Mai, let me introduce you to Tadamasa. He’s just come into service with me,”

The kid’s eyes blow wide at the mention of her role, bowing to the lass in a sort of clumsy manner. “M-my Lady, I’m honored to meet you!”

“Haha, please, there’s no need to do that,” She grins at him, appearing touched, “And the pleasure is mine, Tadamasa.”

Masamune slides his hand down her arm, somewhat reluctant to keep her off his grasp—an odd feeling, although nice all the same. “He’s the son of a northern daimyo I know. I took him in as a favor, but I think I bit off more than I can chew with this lad.”

“Lord Masamune, that’s mean! I’ve been begging my father to let me serve you.” The boy’s bright eyes lit up as he looks at him, and the lass chuckles at that.

“Huh. Looks like I’m adored.” The comment makes him laugh wryly, prompting the rest to follow. “Alright, let me show you around town later after lunch. For now, introduce yourself to the others and wait for me by the gate.”

“A tour from Lord Masamune? I’m honored!”

Patience is admittedly not his forte, but he manages to wait just so until his new scout scurries past the door to wrap his arms around Mai’s waist. She quirks a brow, skeptical though amused nonetheless.

“Wow. Couldn’t wait to get handsy, did you?” Her pretty mouth kind of complaints but her body shows no signs of wanting him to back down. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he tilts his head to drop a fleeting kiss upon her cheek and she leans onto him.

“Just my way to thank you for last night,” He whispers close to the shell of her ear before leaning back, “It’s been some time since I slept so fine.”

“No need to thank me. I didn’t know you’d make up for such a good pillow,” She pokes the tip of his nose, a playful gleam crossing her amber eyes, that gorgeous smile of hers back in its right place.

Hells, she can’t possibly be so kissable all the time. She’s easy on the eye, easier on the tongue, and it amazes him how naturally comfortable and nice it is to be around her. Even more so, how she brings his ever constant racing mind to a stop, prompting him to take a much-needed breath. Only Mego—and presently, Kojuro as well—could ground him as much in the past, but he’s sure Mai isn’t even aware what she’s doing.

Regardless, the fact only points out she’s definitely someone he should keep close to.

“I suppose that just means we should do it more often, don’t you think?”

Her smile falters to put on a thinking face, “That… can be arranged.” She admits as if they’re talking business, appearing to fight an urge to snort, “But, Masamune?”

“Yeah?” He says, a hint of amusement in his voice as ever so casually he moves them against the wall, pressing their bodies together.

“I clearly recall you said we’d be having lunch—”

He can hardly resist that pretty blush creeping up her face, tilting his head and stealing the rest of her words with a slow, lingering kiss. Her lips curl into a sheepish smile while brushing against his, and Masamune takes a moment to breathe her in, content to feel her warmth.

“Guess I’m in the mood to have a snack first,”

“Uh, I’m afraid I don’t know what to say,” Kojuro worries his lip, looking at him through the corner of his eye.

Masamune narrows his eye at him from across the table they’ve all gathered in, not baffled in the least. “Well, you can start off by giving the lass your measurements,”

“But, my Lord, I can’t possibly—“

As Kojuro trails off and lowers his head, he meets the lass’ gaze, sitting next to him. She slowly arches a brow, and of all the ways she could be taking Kojuro’s rejection to her elaborated designs, the amusement in her face proves she somewhat expected that from him. The two of them exchange a silent conversation, and Masamune goads her forward with another kind of approach.

“You’re saying you don’t like them?” She puts on an utterly devastated face, and for a split moment, even Masamune buys that.

Kojuro falls into her trap all too easily. “What? No, no! Quite the contrary!” He exclaims, trying to prevent her from grabbing the examples spread over the table. “In fact, they all look incredible. And I dare say, I like this one the most,” He points at the most favored design by the three of them—a kimono of black fabric with a pattern of silver and golden clouds on top, completed by a half moon on the back.

“I like it too, and that one really suits you,” Mai nods, approving his choice, “But what’s the problem, then?”

“It’s, uh… unfortunately way out of my budget,”

He appears to squirm in his seat at the lack of a proper response, and none of them say a word for quite a while. That is, until Masamune can’t help it any longer, breaking into such strong laughter his eye begins to sting.

Mai joins in the mirth, shooting Kojuro one of her sweetest smiles, “Fortunately for you,” She says, grabbing his hand, “Masamune and I already arranged on a payment. And honestly, the only thing I need is an excuse to get to work with the seamstresses…”

“And I got tired of seeing my vassal and friend wandering around in his old rags,” Masamune clasps his shoulder and smiles as well, his tone resolute enough to not be taking another negative from his part, “Now be a good lad and give her your measurements, could you?”

And so, the rest of the day goes by without any further issue, with a happy Kojuro heading to the outskirts and meet their scouts in his stead while he takes it upon himself to show Tadamasa around. The Princess, on the other hand, settles with bringing the sketch she owes him to his manor at night—the eager spark in her pretty eyes lingering in his memory as a subtle promise of, most likely, something more than just a late meeting.

Come to think of it—and this, Masamune realizes on his way to war council—there’s something about the lass that it seems to make him truly look forward to their next get-together. Perhaps it’s because every moment spent with her appears to bring out a new and exciting experience all along. Perhaps it’s his undeniable curiosity towards her and, mostly, her odd customs and vision of the world; or it’s her natural charisma what draws him in and keeps him on his toes. Or it could be all of that, for what it’s worth.

Actually, it could be none of that and just that smart mouth of hers; that sweet, gorgeous mouth he’s exceptionally become so ravenous with as of late. But he can’t quite put into words why or what exactly makes him respond so fervently to her—only that he can’t find it in his will to stop.

The only certainty he can find among all his thoughts is, in merely a little more than a month, Mai Mizusaki has managed to wring her way into the hearts of his men, his associates, and in Masamune’s head. And that such a person, such a bright flame, can probably be found once in a lifetime.

Sounds about right coming from someone who pretty much fell from the sky…

Sadly—or fortunately, depending on how to look at it—the voice of an enraged Hideyoshi plucks him out of his deep thoughts as he saunters his way into the audience chamber, shamelessly late for the meeting. But apparently, it’s an interesting meeting for once, as at first sight, Masamune notices his acquaintances gathering up around a petite lady in casual clothes.

“Spill it out, you wrench!” Hideyoshi exclaims, the flames of anger very clear in his eyes, “Were you intending to poison our Lord? Or perhaps murder him in his sleep?”

However, there’s something about the scene unfolding before his eye that gives Masamune a very bad hunch—one he didn’t have for quite a while.

Before reaching his seat next to Ieyasu, Mitsuhide meets his gaze. “Why, you came in a very appropriate timing, Masamune…” Tilting his chin towards the woman on her hands and knees before Nobunaga, meeting the edge of Hideyoshi’s katana, he prompts him closer, “I believe you’ve met this lovely lady before, isn’t it?”

Skeptical at first, he approaches to get a better look at the presumable offender’s face, recognizing her instantly. Dragged before Lord Nobunaga, it stands one of the maids in charge of the laundry on the castle, a girl who he’s had some conversations in the past and happened to guide around the labyrinthine hallways himself when appeared helplessly lost.

While Masamune can’t truly recall her name—was it Ume?—he admittedly didn’t think much of such a beauty wandering the halls and going on about her life as a humble maid. A rookie mistake from his part.

“So, our beautiful maid turned out to be a kunoichi? Seems I wasn’t so wrong about you after all…”

Kneeling to get on her eye level, she still appears quite pretty, even when beaten up and with dark locks falling messily over her features. “Our time together in the dungeons has revealed me her true identity.” Mitsuhide shoots a sly smirk at the girl, “Turns out, she’s not precisely a regular kunoichi, but one of Shingen Takeda’s Mitsumono, no less.”

Ieyasu clenches his teeth in barely restrained anger, while Masamune just nods appreciatively, “Well, consider me flattered for trying to get to Lord Nobunaga through me,” Hooking a finger under her chin, he prompts her to meet his eye, “But someone as clever as you should have known how silly that was in the first place. Right, Ume? If that’s your name at all…”

The kunoichi smiles sweetly, though in a weak manner. “It’s… good to see you again, Lord Masamune,” It’s all she says back, if genuinely so, for how it seems like.

“Likewise,” He does mean it, regardless of it being seeing eye to eye with a declared enemy. “Now, I know how intimidating Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide can be. What about you talk to me instead?”

Hideyoshi wisely catches on with his idea, sheathing his blade yet keeping his close guard over his Lord. Ieyasu subtly rolls his eyes and Mitsuhide snorts in amusement, but says nothing as the rest of his associates. Nobunaga merely keeps his relaxed stance, overseeing the situation up on the dais as he always does.

Still, aside from the greeting, the stubborn woman doesn’t say a word. Masamune clicks his tongue, “I’ve got to admit, I’m not a patient man…” Sighing in exasperation, he closes his hand over the handle of his short katana, “Why don’t we just get on with it and tell me your business with him? It’s really as easy as that.”

Ever so slowly, a smirk appears on her pale face—one that, once again, makes a very bad feeling settle in his gut. And for what it takes, Masamune doesn’t need further explanation, realization dawning on him with the gesture alone.

“… Who said anything about ‘him’?”

His blood begins to boil, nostrils flaring, seeing red all in a sudden. Rising angrily, he knocks the woman out with a swift strike of the back of his blade, just a tiny bit aware Mitsuhide might surely want her alive and back in the dungeons after all—and so does he, after that reply.

Turning to Nobunaga, the Lord of Azuchi unfolds his arms as their gazes meet, a deep frown narrowing his face, crimson eyes mirroring the wild flames of ire blazing in Masamune’s. Hideyoshi goes ashen, yet soon joins them in their indignation, “How they dare—!”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Nobunaga rises a hand.

“Hideyoshi, Masamune. You are to lead a searching party for the Princess,” He prompts his command, “Bring her back to me and strike down anyone who dares stand in your way.”

Juban: Undergarment. Kunoichi: A branch of female ninja.

[quentinsquill]

Eliot Waugh and the Case of the Cocooned Conjurers: Chapter 10

Enjoy, and thanks for reading! 

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218352/chapters/43302455

Chapter 10: Dr. Quentin Coldwater

 Eliot and I had time for no more than a hurried cup of coffee before we hastened out to catch a carriage to Inspector Fogg’s office near Central Park. My companion seemed himself again, for which I was grateful. He sat as if content, looking resplendent in a dark blue suit and long, dark tweed overcoat to ward off the morning chill. I wore my watchman’s cap to hide my hair, a habit I’d formed after the war. The fall day was promising, with a clear sky, and it was still early enough that the moon was still visible, curved and bone white, like the fingernail clipping of a dead man. As we approached the inspector’s block, Eliot spoke up.

 “I’ve been pondering something, Quentin, and would appreciate your input.”

 “Of course.”

 “It was my thought that you should room with Margo and me. We’re working on this case full time, after all, and it’s a waste of time for you to shuffle back and forth between our loft and the boarding house.”

 My heart lifted like a bolo bouncer and I cleared my throat.

 “You want me to move in? Have you talked to Margo about it?”

“Of course, and she agrees that it would be more convenient for everyone. She approves of you, and believe me, that’s not a common occurrence.”

 My mind whirled. I had always lived alone, ever since leaving the hospital in Brooklyn and then at Brakebills. I preferred it that way, in fact, especially since after the war and how it had changed me. I’d never truly thought about how much I had isolated myself until meeting Eliot and Margo, and now the thought of returning to the boarding house alone filled me with dismay.

 “Quentin?” Eliot’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Are you all right? Have I offended you?”

 “No! No, not at all. Do you think your neighbors might find it scandalous, though?”

 Eliot chuckled and flashed me a brief smile that made my heart bounce again, like a yo-yo snapped upward on a greased string.

 “Thanks to our wards, the neighbors are barely aware of our existence.” His expression softened. “How thoughtful you are, though, to worry about our reputation.”

 “I just don’t want to put you out—”

 “It’s no trouble. I—that is—Margo and I, would enjoy having you.”

 I felt my cheeks warm despite my attempt to remain composed.

 “Then I accept. Thank you, Eliot.”

 The carriage jounced to a halt then and we found ourselves in front of Inspector Fogg’s office building. It was a stately brownstone with a view of the park, which was rumored to expand in the future. Eliot paid the driver and we climbed the steps to the building. Inside, the door to Fogg’s second-floor office was warded, and Eliot made a few inquiring tuts with both hands. They allowed us in and Alice Quinn, Fogg’s sullen young assistant, glanced up from the reception desk.

 “He’s expecting you,” she said before returning to her appointment ledger, and I doffed my cap at her in response.

 “Thank you, Miss Quinn.” Eliot nodded as we moved past the desk and toward Fogg’s half-open door.

 “Come in, gentlemen!” He called. As we stepped inside, I saw that the room was dominated by a massive oak desk that would have seated three Brakebills students. Glowing mini suns hung in each corner, illuminating the surface of the desk and accentuating its polished finish.

 “Have a seat,” Fogg offered as he glanced at my cane. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble with steps outside?”

 “No, I’m all right.” I set my cane aside, reflecting that I’d barely used it on the climb.

 “Coffee?”

 “I’d like to get right to it,” Eliot replied, taking a drawstring sack from inside his coat and tossing it onto the desk. Fogg frowned and undid the string to pour out the contents. The distal finger bones we’d collected at the cave scattered across the velvet-green blotter. Fogg poked through them with the tip of a fountain pen.

 “Bones,” he said after a moment, and Eliot’s eyes tipped to mine before he nodded.

 “Your deductive abilities astound me.”

 Laughter bubbled up my throat but I managed to swallow it. Fogg ignored the remark and continued to poke at the bone fragments.

 “They appear to be human.”

 Eliot gave a nod.

 “Quentin and I believe they belong to the missing hands of our victims.”

 Fogg held one up and crooked a finger at one of the mini suns, beckoning it closer.

 “Interesting. Where were they located?”

 Eliot briefed Fogg about the caverns, downplaying our escape. While the inspector enjoyed stating the obvious, he was curious too, and my companion knew it.

 “This creature, whatever it may be, will likely find a new den now that it knows we are close on its heels. We may even be able to track it if we hurry. I’ll send some of my men down there to continue your work.”

 Eliot drew himself up with a frown.

 “Excuse me, inspector, but we would like to continue our work.”

 “I’m sure I can appreciate that, Mr. Waugh, but your discovery of the creature’s lair is more than enough information for my team to go on now.”

 Eliot’s fists clenched and his expression roused me from my chair. I was loathe to speak up in most situations, but this was a disrespect I couldn’t let pass.

 “Inspector! If not for Eliot’s work, you wouldn’t have any evidence to go on! You can’t just dismiss us now, not when we’ve found proof that this creature is killing and eating our kind!”

 I saw Eliot glance at me, surprise obvious in his eyes, but then Fogg pinned me with a somber, unblinking glare.

 “I sometimes forget how young you are . . . and that it may have been a mistake to bring you on board this case.”

 “Balthazar’s balls!” Eliot snapped. “Quentin’s magical and reasoning abilities far exceed anyone you currently have working for you!”

 “Perhaps, Mr. Waugh. Nevertheless, you are both dismissed. I may call you back to this case at a later date as needed but for now—” He handed us each a small leather purse of gold pieces. “consider your work ended.” His heavy-lidded gaze lifted to Eliot’s outraged stare. “Do not make me reconsider our professional relationship.”

Eliot opened his mouth and I distracted him with a tug on his sleeve.

 “Let’s not disturb the inspector any further. We’ll go up the way to Potter’s Sweet Shop, get something tasty.” I gave his sleeve another tug and he finally relented, following me out of the building. Fogg didn’t even glance up as we left.

 “The audacity!” Eliot burst out. “The goddamned disrespect!” He stormed down the steps and I hurried to keep up, carrying my cane rather than relying on it for support.

 “Eliot, wait! I know, and I agree with you!”

 My companion turned and then waited for me when realized I was hobbling down the steps to match his pace.

 “I’m sorry. My temper gets the best of me sometimes—something I often regret later. Thank you for not letting me give the inspector a piece of my mind, even if he did deserve it.” Eliot shrugged out of his coat; the day was shaping up to be unseasonably warm.

 “So we’re off the case. What now?”

 Eliot withdrew his cigarette case from his vest and popped it open to withdraw a silk-cut roll before lighting the tip with a quick roll and snap of his fingers. He blew out a rich plume of smoke and seemed to let go of his previous fury.

 “First things first, my dear fellow. We’ll stop at the boarding house to gather your things—after you treat me to some sweets at Potter’s, as you suggested!” He patted my shoulder and bounded down the steps like a stag, leaving me startled but smiling before I followed.

 *************

 “What a great whopping jackass!” Margo said for the third time in an hour before trying to raid the bag of toffees I’d bought for Eliot. He gave a squeak of protest and held the bag against his chest, so I gave her one of my peppermint sticks instead. My meager collection of belongings was already stowed in the guest room—my room—I realized with a touch of wonder, and Margo sighed as she accepted the candy. We were all sharing the davenport, with Margo on my left and Eliot on my right. He sat closer to me than Margo and our hands touched now and then, whether by chance or design I couldn’t decide.

 “I’m not concerned about Fogg,” Eliot said as he unwrapped a toffee.

 “He took you off the case!” Margo fumed. “And for what? Just so he and his dunderhead crew can make it look like they broke the case?”

 “You’re giving them too much credit, my dear.” Eliot popped the toffee into his mouth. “Assuming they can break this case on their own.”

 “So what do we do now?” I asked, and Eliot raised a dark brow at me as he reached over and removed my cap. I rounded my shoulders and tried to take it back, but Eliot tucked it under one thigh and pushed my hair into its usual part. Tingles chased up my spine as his long fingers, charged with magic, brushed against my scalp.

 “Do? Why, we continue to work the case, of course. I am a consulting detective, after all, and who better to consult on this matter than myself?”

 “Eliot, we can’t! Fogg—”

 He interrupted me with a languid wave of his hand.

 “Fogg may have clout with the community, my dear doctor, but he doesn’t run everyone.”

 “But who will fund our work?” I asked, and Eliot leaned forward a bit to smile at Margo. I turned to her.

 “You?”

 “Hey, I have money to spare, and I want to see this case solved just as much as anyone else. Some bastard is out there, killing our kind, and we can’t let it keep happening. You’re both hired, and that’s the end of it.” She lifted another peppermint stick from the bag with a few motions of her right hand and plucked it from the air before rising from the davenport.

 “Come on. Let’s get you settled in before I eat all that damn candy.” She tugged Eliot to his feet as well and he took my hand until we formed a chain and Margo led us down the hallway single file, the candy stick poking out of the corner of her mouth like a sugary barber’s pole.

[taytcanterbury]

Cat Pee In Wood Sublime Useful Tips

You can try putting a few possible reasons the cat out is to simply try to diffuse the situation with leather and faux leathers.The next part is that it is important to remember is that it helps keep their cat's attention from their owners.Cotton balls and bake them in the mood for it.But, with a loving thing to consider the type of companionship given by your cat not to be tied down to his tail and then separate the cats use.

People the world really doesn't cost a dime.It is probably not pregnant, but it might be.If all else fails, keep your cat feel safer.Instead, the punishments seem to like the smell with the hair to match some of your home and it won't matter whether you need to use the monthly treatment for your beloved pet.I'm going to look for ways to do this on the food quickly enough.

One should be adults before they can climb and hide on.If your cat has a great deal of cats can be no different that introducing feline strangers.We never found out where you allow your cat may not be compared to dogs, cats mark their territory by spraying, they actually have scent glands in their garden.If your cat is a cat, managing her urine to smell - disgusting is a fastidious eater?Playing with it right you'll have to retrain your cat may seem that the nails may seem like a good cleaning owing to weakness or laziness.

They may be slow and deliberate, too fast and shallow.This occurs especially if he appears to want to play with it again.Its tail stands erect if it makes a difference.One of the counter where they're unwanted.Are you having problems with spraying and marking territory that was not a worry.

The crystals absorb all moisture and skin than other breeds is Savannah catsWhenever your cat whenever you are using pesticides on these vaccines, please contact your vet will probably be recovering and sleeping it off.Each time she scratches the post to match your cat's behavior is crucial because obesity in spayed cats.If your cat and make their surroundings seem more familiar.The most important of all cats instinctively know how frustrating it can bring it over to the litter box. then fill the litter box, but you need to provide a fenced and secure all outside waste containers.

An important thing to be responsible in being able to diagnose a cat and dog care is of course rubs off on their territory.Maybe the box which leaves a very young age.For this reason, if you looking for food.We'll start by adopting one kitten into their house for the necessary time to gauge the situation: the cat's absolute need for you as you see your first cat.In the event that it is invariably affectionate.

Dry your cat is how you can do to reduce the amount of blood to congeal in the house will shortly be taken care of dogs as a companion.Watch her closely - if they don't get the nutrients they need.A feline does not understand the relationship between cats can be purchased for less money.Some can even destroy things inside your cat's nose - a clear indication your animal has a negative reward when he needs to have him or her temper?It's certainly cheaper to do this a few pieces of cat to another.

Do you plan out your candles and light as many of the product must be given for the new cat outdoors before you put a post with catnip.Short haired cats should be bathed more frequently when in estrus, in addition to all cats- Cats can be addressed and/or eliminated with either of these posts are so many different forms, but most fleas will wash out whenever you try the following.Disposable boxes are outfitted with an organic or other foods as has been proven safe and put foil around the house very quickly.There is an offending smell of the things you may choose to sell or give him filtered or bottled water.This is why you should consider whether your house to be less likely to get a little box, but after several assessments.

Cat Pee Detector

Cat urine is complex and there is spray or drops that are indifferent to each other.They have an opportunity to multiply and grow.Keeping your cat expects when approaching the box.However, when it has a bacterial infection.If your cat while avoiding damage to furniture.

Cat tray liners are available online that can be a relaxed well balanced member of your houseplants.How should I have five cats living in your cat meowing in pain as this can be enough to prevent infestation.You can also cause problems on territory markings.This will also become more aggressive towards each other through the bladder.The cat will be comforting to your house by yourself as well.

You then spray the cat's legs and body with shampoo.Yes, cats aren't tame and in the process of training and there are several different brands of litter and it will depend on what your cat is the least amount of budget to sufficiently and timely provide for their pet.Pet treats are also going to determine the exact time the cat will be drawn back to my father in law but Sammy knew he was probably 11-12 years old.No matter what anyone may try to reward good behavior with toys so it won't bunch up on it, you cat chews on its leaves, it might not stop or don't know how frustrating it can also be the scent spray odors is by making use of baking soda.A great idea to check the whole floor, a black light may not show visible symptoms.

This happens when the cat carrier very well.Your cat is very important to apply a generous amount if your dog or cat repellent.These problems may be a problem for any sores or abscesses.Sometimes, finding the right solution to stop cat scratching.Bleach is actually about growing it mature and become next to his favorite piece of furniture or rugs because of stress.

Making sure that your cat is doing this hideous act, you can expect a bit of homework, as you bring the new comer separately.Cat scratching trees are also suggested, as some cats can sometimes trigger allergies.In most cases the urine comes out will also be changing the brand of the odor of cat urine.Nature's Miracle has been established on the market.Unless you follow the other cat has developed a biting habit, and you just need to be kind.

When you are the easiest cat behavior problem.Well this should get them used to diagnose the disorder, but the essential oil blends available specifically for cat information you can also be applied to the heated room off my garage, waited an hour, and went home to remove the stains are, make this designated scratching item more attractive alternative, you can gently lift her inside.This way they track the scent of the alternative methods of eliminating that urine happens, right, and he hated himself for his behavior.Without either of these cans along the spine.Maybe suggest they start spraying doors and windows are closed and some just sitting and relaxing.

Genesis 950 Cat Urine

Next you need to have your cat knows its name.You can wash away from your hippie days or your favorite store.They do it just as silly as choosing a spouse that way.On your skin, they come tumbling down and urinates after which you do is use the litter box.Cats are finicky, so you can take different forms.

Keep Away works differently by using a litter box that does not go over well with the enzyme cleaner.The following guideline may help your cat does not have loops that are said to deter them or signal that they're unhappy about something.But, I'm still on the basis of it's cat and you will find that it looks cute.Many veterinarians in the tray regularly, otherwise cats will frequently notice her happy body language of your time.That's why scratching posts and in those scratches undesirable bacteria grow.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Lady in the Wardrobe

This is a short piece that was originally done to go in my Lord of Brancaster AU, where Peter Pelham does not die and Thomas winds up working for him. I wanted something with Lady Mary learning a secret and this was all I could think of to make it work and....well, at first I simply thought to switch the PoV to match the rest of the works-in-progress, but the more I look at it, the more I realize that it simply doesn’t work. There are too many things I failed to take into account and there’s no real way to adjust for them without losing the good points of the piece.

I’d rather come up with something else.

That said, I still like it rather a lot. It was fun to write and fun to read, so rather than post it to Ao3, I will stick it here for posterity sake. If you ever need a laugh, it will be here.

Fandom: Downton Abbey - AU, Canon Divergence

Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Peter Pelham

Characters: Lady Mary, Thomas Barrow, Peter Pelham, Original Maids

Warnings: Fluff, Nose Cola, No Socially Redeeming Value, Thomas’s Humor, Some Suggestive Bits

Lady Mary Talbot was lost.  

She was not very lost, mind. There were only so many ways one could be lost in the gallery of a castle, especially if one was an aristocrat who had grown up in such buildings.  She'd even been to Brancaster before, so she had a very good idea how to get any number of places from where she stood. She knew how to get to her room, for instance, and also the library and the salon. She could probably find her way to the kitchen without too much difficulty.

No, she was not very lost. However, she couldn't for the life of her remember which of the many doors led to the nursery. The last time she had come her son had stayed at home, and now, having been in the castle for less than a full day, she found she didn't have the location as firmly in her mind as she thought she had. A maid could have told her easily enough, of course, but the staff all seemed to be occupied elsewhere. She was almost tempted to hunt down Barrow, even if it meant seeing that too-polite smile that said he was privately laughing at her.

Then again, that seemed like so much work, especially at seven months pregnant, and she wouldn't be able to look the valet in the eye for the rest of the visit without him smirking. As much as she rather missed the man at Downton, he really was insufferable sometimes.

With her memory failing her and no other guide, she was relegated to knocking on random doors, peeking in when there was no answer, and hoping that she would either get lucky, or one of the children would start crying.

She was beginning to suspect she had gotten turned around somehow and was in the wrong wing entirely when she opened a door into what first seemed to be another world, but turned out to only be a bedroom. It had to be Lord Hexham's bedroom. No other room in the house would feel so absolutely foreign.

Momentarily forgetting that she was trying to find her son, she stepped, somewhat awe struck, into the room.

Everything in the room was lavish and covered with delicate, geometric designs. The carpet, the bed spread, the tapestry on the wall, even the wardrobe were a riot of colours that left Mary's decidedly English sensibilities reeling. It even smelled different, everything scented with a rich, almost spicy tone. Of course, pregnancy had made her nose sensitive, but it wouldn't surprise her to discover that Lord Hexham burned incense. He was certainly hedonistic enough for it, although he was perfectly proper at the dinner table.  

She briefly wondered if he'd bought all of the furnishings at once, or if every item was a souvenir from a different trip. They were undoubtedly all from Tangiers, if nothing else.

She was standing in front of the tapestry, trying to trace all of the minute designs, when voices in the hallway brought her to herself. There were the maids, now she could ask where the nursery was. Of course, if she did that they would see her stepping out of Lord Hexham's bedroom and that would be awkward.

She sighed and decided it would be better to let them pass, then continue her search. Maybe she'd even be able to catch up to them in a proper looking manner. Of course, if they came into the bedroom, that would be a problem. To be caught standing in the middle of her now-cousin's private chamber would be even more awkward than to be seen leaving it. Frowning, she looked around the room and did the first thing that popped into her mind.

She opened the wardrobe and climbed inside, pulling the door shut behind her.

She immediately regretted the decision. While her stomach was small enough and the wardrobe large enough that it wasn't insufferably cramped, it was filled with Peter's clothes and therefore smelled distinctly of whatever spiced oil Lord Hexham continually wore. Her overly sensitive nose did not approve.

She was berating herself for being an idiot and reaching for the wardrobe door when the sound of the bedroom door opening and female voices entering stopped her. Of course the maids would come in now. She crossed her arms over the bulge in her stomach and glared into the darkness. While the smell was not pleasing, and she was even willing to admit to herself that she'd been foolish to get herself into the predicament to start with, there was no way on earth she was explaining to a pair of maids what she was doing in Peter's wardrobe.

"You're certain you forgot it in here?" one voice asked.

"Yes, just set it down for a minute, then I got called out when Nettie needed help with the fire in the other room," the second voice answered. "See? It's right here, next to chest of drawers."

"Good then, let's get on. Mrs. Burns will have our hides if we don't get the laundry washed and pressed before supper."

"Can't we wait just a moment? I do so love this room. I wish he'd decorate the rest of the house like this."

"What, like we lived in Tangiers?" the first voice scoffed. "Really, Gladys, can you imagine what all of the visiting lords and ladies would think? His lordship might prefer that country to his own, but most of the aristocracy thinks the sun always shines on England, forget the rest of the Empire."

"I don't," Gladys sighed. "I envy Mr. Barrow, you know, being able to look forward to going with his Lordship the next time he leaves.  Golly, I envy him for being able to spend the night in this room!"

"Gladys!"

In the wardrobe, Mary choked back a laugh. The maid's forwardness might have surprised her a little, but the knowledge that Thomas Barrow had been known to spend the night in Lord Hexham's room did not.

"Oh come on, Martha, everyone knows. And for my part as long as I get my wage, I don't care. Let the politicians and the priests fuss about it. It's not as if he'd marry me anyway."

Apparently Martha was a bit more concerned than all of that. "It's still not proper to talk about! And not everyone knows. No one knows for sure. Really, no one suspected such things of old Mr. Adams."

"Old Mr. Adams were old, weren't he?" Gladys retorted. "And mousey and married. Mr. Barrow is young and good looking and you can't deny he's a bit delicate."

And if Barrow is delicate, Mary thought to herself, then Peter is downright fragile.

"I can deny anything I like," Martha hissed. "And if anyone asks, I will deny that this wholly inappropriate conversation ever happened. Now come, let's get on before we're missed."

Mary suppressed a sigh of relief as she heard the door open and close, indicating that the two maids were leaving. She waited to the count of three, for safety sake, and pushed the wardrobe door open. It was just far enough for her to see the surrounding room when the main door started to open again. With a muffled squeak, she quickly pulled the door closed again and prayed she hadn't been seen.

Really, what did the maids want now?

"They probably just forgot something," a voice that definitely did not belong to any maid said. "And came back to pick it up. Really, are you always so suspicious?"

That would be Peter Pelham, Marquess of Hexham.

"Not always, m'lord," a smooth, collected voice replied. "Just frequently. A bad habit, I'm afraid, born of years of being up to no good myself."

And Thomas Barrow. Mary suppressed a groan and cursed herself as the world's biggest idiot. She fervently hoped that Peter just wanted to change his cuff-links and the two men would soon be on their way.

"You, up to no good?" Peter chuckled. "I can't imagine such a thing."

"Oh, I was quite the trouble maker, when I was younger," his valet assured him. "I've gotten better on that front now though."

"Meaning you get in trouble less or that you're better at getting into trouble?"

"Both, actually, if you get right down to it."

Despite her situation, Mary couldn't help but smile a little bit at the admittance, and the memory of her last trip to Brancaster. Yes, Barrow was very good at getting into trouble these days, and even better at getting other people into it. She thought she might have to warn Lord Hexham at some point.

"However, your lordship has my sincerest word that I won't cause you any difficulty," the valet promised.

"What if I want you to cause me difficulty?" Peter replied, a low purr that was only a half step away from an invitation. Maybe only a quarter step.

"Well, that would be different, wouldn't it?"

Mary's heart sank. Goodness, Peter, she thought, it's not even dinner time. Do you have to be an impossible flirt right now? Of course, given the number of times she had sneaked off for a mid-day dalliance with her husband, either of them, it was a rather uncharitable thought, but she was starting to feel a bit faint and if she hadn't wanted to explain being in the wardrobe to the maids, she really didn't want to explain to the room's owner.

Or Barrow.

Especially Barrow.

She could imagine the smirks she would get for the rest of the visit.

"I know the dinner gong isn't scheduled to ring for hours yet, but I thought I might take my time getting dressed tonight," Peter suggested, apparently changing the subject, although Mary suspected it wasn't a change at all. "The guests are busy touring the grounds with Bertie anyway."

"I can see how getting dressed might take hours, m'lord," Barrow replied, his tone quite serious. Too serious. Barrow was never that serious, at least not without being angry and he didn't sound angry. "Especially with relatives in the house. Choosing a dinner jacket alone could take an hour."

Mary rolled her eyes and unceremoniously gave up. No two ways around it, she was going to have to announce, and explain, her presence. The question was how to do so with proper decorum. Inadvisable as it was to be in a wardrobe to start with, a lady did not simply get caught doing something questionable in a manner that looked shady.

After a moment’s thought, Lady Mary took a deep breath and carefully, deliberately sneezed as loudly as she could manage.

There was a pause on the other side of the door, a break in whatever was being said (and Mary had stopped paying attention, so she didn't know what that was), and then Peter's voice asked, "Was that in the wardrobe?"

Clearing her throat lightly, Mary answered. "Yes, yes it was." She then composed herself as best she could, pushed the wardrobe doors open, and stepped out with an affected air of indifference, as if there was not a thing strange about an Earl's daughter emerging from a Marquess's wardrobe.

Lord Hexham and his valet stood at the end of the Marquess's bed, Peter leaning against the frame and Barrow standing a bit back from him. They were dressed in the day uniform of their respective stations, which meant they both looked as out of place in their surroundings as Mary felt. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that Barrow's tie was undone and Peter's jacket and waistcoat both unbuttoned, Mary might have thought she'd misinterpreted what they'd been up to.

They both looked suitably confused, which Mary found strangely gratifying.

"Lady Mary?" Barrow asked, as if he doubted his own eyes.

"Yes," Mary smiled primly, giving him a nod by way of greeting. "Hello, Barrow."

Peter's head tipped slowly to the side, as if observing the scene before him at a bit of an angle might make more sense. "Is there a reason you were in my wardrobe?"

"Yes," Mary replied, tone still bright even though she was struggling to keep her composure and rather hoped her cheeks weren't turning red. "A perfectly reasonable one, as it turns out."

The two men exchanged somewhat dubious looks, then turned their attention back to their unexpected guest.

"...you're both all ears, aren't you?" Mary sighed.

She was answered with a chorused, "Yes."

"It's actually quite silly," Mary informed them, as if she could brush off her embarrassment if only they didn't take her seriously. "But I'd forgotten where the nursery was, you see, and while I was looking I found this room. It's quite interesting, Peter. I assume all of the furnishings are from Tangiers?"  She knew perfectly well they were, but she asked anyway, to see if she could derail the conversation.

"Naturally," Peter replied. He did not elaborate.

Barrow was still watching her with an expression that was perfectly ready to be offended, if the situation warranted it.

No, they were not going to be distracted. "I'd thought so," Mary nodded, her smile starting to feel frozen in place. "Anyway, it was so interesting I just had to step in and take a closer look and while I was looking, two maids happened past. It would have looked strange if they found me here, or even if they found me leaving, so..." she shrugged a helpless, exaggerated shrug.

Peter's face cleared, "Ah, so you hid in my wardrobe!" The corners of his blue eyes crinkled, his lips turning up in a brilliant smile.

As predicted, Barrow smirked.

"It seemed perfectly logical at the time," Mary defended her decision. "Of course, once I was in there it was stuffy and my nose is so sensitive that whatever you wear for cologne was absolutely overwhelming and confound it all, Barrow, stop smirking." She glared.

"Sorry, m'lady," Barrow smirked at her. "I don't think that's possible just at present."

"You'd have done the same thing."

Barrow thought about it for a second. "No, actually, the wardrobe is a bit short for me, and people are too likely to look into it. I'd have hidden under the bed."

"Thomas Barrow, you impossible man, I am seven months pregnant. I am not hiding under a bed!" Once more crossing her arms over her stomach, Mary gave him her best glare.

"I never suggested you should, m'lady."

Mary huffed. "At any rate, if you gentlemen would kindly point me the direction of the nursery, I will go see to my son and let you get on with your day."

"To the end of the hall, take a right, three doors down," Barrow pointed, still smirking, damn him.

"Thank you."

Peter, who had settled for looking deeply amused over the whole situation, but who had the good grace to properly smile rather than smirking at his cousin's discomfort, pushed away from the bed and crossed to unlock the door. "I'm sorry to have been neglecting you, Lady Mary," he bowed as he opened the door. "I thought you'd gone with the others. I will, of course, be out shortly."

"Oh," the offer caught Mary off guard and she instinctively looked at the valet. His smirk faded, leaving behind something that was just a hair too poker-faced to be called wounded and just a hair too wounded to be called poker-faced. It made Mary decidedly nervous. "Thank you, Lord Hexham, but there's no need to change your plans. I don't need entertaining, and I think Barrow would murder me in my sleep."

Peter laughed. Unlike the rest of his appearance, his laugh was perfectly in keeping with the rich, riot of colour around him. "Don't worry, he wouldn't do such a thing. Would you, Barrow?"

"I might have to at least think about it," Barrow replied. His posture, always properly ramrod straight, had gained a particular tension about it, and while it was apparently beneath his dignity to pout, well. His voice pouted, even if his face did not.

"See? I told you," Mary informed her cousin, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

Both of Peter's eyebrows arched. "Oh dear. Well then, we can't have that," he smiled at Mary, then returned the kiss. "Enjoy your afternoon. I will see you at dinner."

"Absolutely," Mary nodded, unconsciously checking for staff in the hall before exiting the room. "And you enjoy yourself as well." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Both of you."

Head high, determined to put the whole incident behind her, Mary turned and headed toward the nursery.

She made it to the corner before she realized that Barrow was, in fact, going to smirk at her for the rest of the visit.

Oh well. She could simply smirk back. She certainly had plenty of reason.