#the way Abigail is such a stray cat

[devil-doll13]

Wax & Wane

(Part 4)

Tw: References to past injuries/scars, kinda angsty, Abigail is thinking about murder but Ellie calms her down basically lol, also Abby is very awkward, Blood, Swearing, I think that’s it?

Ellie belongs to @rottent33th! Also thanks to her for ideas <3

Percy who is mentioned here belongs to @the-pinstriped-hood, and I also mention Ava who belongs to @slaasherslut!

To be honest I was bumbling about for most of this but I think the newfound friendship between Ellie and Abigail is really sweet. Anyway, enjoy, sorry it took so long!

Summary: Abigail is left to clean herself up after the two Sinclair brothers had attacked her, and receives an unexpected visitor who changes her mind on returning the favour.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Dividers by firefly-graphics

Hot, steaming water cascaded over her injured body and stung her freshly-stitched wounds, scorching her skin as she painfully winced in response. Ugly purple welts and thinner, more methodical slits that were permanently carved into her flesh seemed to have become angrily inflamed under the boiling spray. Her cracked ribs - the less visible of her impairments - were achingly sore and left her wheezing for every gasp of air. All in all, she was left hurt and dazed after her scuffle with the two Sinclair brothers. Wringing a hand through her stringy locks, Abigail watched glumly as rusty reddish-brown residue dribbled down her cut calves and feet where it disappeared into the steel drain.

The woman that had argued for her release - Whose name she’d garnered was Percy, short for Persephone Jones, the best-selling fucking author - had very subtly and politely hinted that she needed to clean herself, and she found herself in full agreement. Had it not been for the fact that she’d just walked right into a ghost town, fixing her hygiene would’ve been a high priority; except for the fact that evading mortal peril was.

Abigail wrenched the knob back and the steady stream of hot water ceased. She huffed and pulled the faded floral-patterned shower curtain open to step dripping onto a scratchy, worn out towel, then wound another tightly in her wet hair. The first thought of rendering herself naked and vulnerable in such hostile territory had not been an appealing one, but she admitted with some relief that her newfound cleanliness was worth it. No longer did the odorous sweat, filth and grime irritate her; replaced instead by the pleasant scent of rose-scented shampoo she’d sneakily nicked off the bathroom shelf.

After she’d groggily redressed in the furtive, shuttered shade of the house’s old bedroom - for she still did not dare to fall asleep in these conditions - Abigail padded quietly down the scratchily carpeted stairs and into the ancient yellowed kitchen. She pulled open a nearby cupboard, liberating a choice mug and teaspoon from the lower drawer. Then, she switched on the old kettle and sat down on a rickety wooden chair, rather smug. See, the other thing she’d pinched on the sly was a coffee container, which she thought might serve to keep her upright and conscious for the time being. It was here she allowed her nerves to relent slightly, lazily slumping back in her chosen seat and ignoring the pinch in her side as she did so. She pondered for a moment, closely observing the peeling wallpaper and behind it; the gradual buildup of mould festering there. Still, she had roomed in significantly filthier and sleazier boarding houses and motels. How sad was it that this place was actually rather inviting in comparison?

This once empty, abandoned home - which despite sitting dusty and neglected, mysteriously still had working electricity and plumbing - Percy had offered to Abigail as a sort of consolation gift. She narrowed her eyes sharply in thought. It seemed to her a strange act of charity, considering how dangerously close she was to holding the bespectacled writer hostage and using her as a bullet sponge; against her own devil of a lover no less.

…Which was exactly why she suspected she had ulterior motives. She knew this was a kind of soft imprisonment; Abigail was under house arrest until further notice deemed her fit to leave again. Or perhaps she would never leave at all; perhaps they all wanted her dull and drowsy so the moment she let her guard down, Bo would finish the job. A cold, spiteful resentment churning in her gut urged her to take advantage of this lull in their little murder operation to set up a counterattack of her own. It would be remiss to not acknowledge she was as prolific a killer as the Sinclairs were, after all, and they had severely injured a witch’s pride.

Abigail scowled. She would absolutely love to cruelly slaughter them all once she recovered in false docility; that seemed only fair and proper after that leering mechanic Bo had forced her into such an awkward arrangement… But despite her raw indignation at the fact, she had no way to get ahold of her invaluable grimoire, seeing as he so jealously guarded her car. Evidently he hoped to keep her within arms’ reach should his beloved decide she was no longer off limits for him to kill.

("Go’on, git’, before I try an' make Percy change her mind..." A sharp warning flashed in his icy blue eyes, though he carelessly snorted)

But more than that, it truly horrified her that she still couldn’t help but feel comforted by Percy’s gentle care and maternal aura. She radiated a sort of familial affection that Abigail had long wished for but never been truly allowed. That, and the fact that, despite Abigail’s behaviour, she had still been offered nothing but kindness from Percy. This elicited within her something akin to guilt; a foreign sensation that felt hard and rotten in her heart. Guilt, perhaps, that she had acted hastily against an unknown, that just moments ago she’d had thoughts of murdering her. It would normally be so easy to wash her blood off her hands and move on, but this time things were… different. It would actually be more terrifying if Percy was being genuine, that would mean she could cut right through her protective shell. She wasn’t ready to become that helpless and vulnerable again, but it was such a tempting warmth that Percy offered…

Abigail shook her head to dispel the notion. She’d sworn off emotional weakness of any sort since her resurrection; yet she still had those stupid yearnings inside of her that she desperately needed to be rid of. That would be the only way she would find peace and acceptance in who she was; what she was.

She’s using manipulation tactics and you’ve fallen right into her trap… You know better than that by now, Abigail, surely?

Better to be distant and detached than have those unrealistic hopes crushed again.

The rattling kettle puffed to a halt, and Abigail stood up wearily to pour heated water into her mug and stir. For a moment she focused solely on the satisfying clink of the teaspoon against ceramic as the aromatic brew began to turn a dark, swarthy brown. It would’ve been perfect if she had a tin of cinnamon on hand, but beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers, now could they?

Abruptly, she picked up the sound of the door being opened in the entrance hallway and bristled like a disturbed feline.

Is it Bo, come to rub salt in the wound? Vincent, so he can stand there silently, waiting for rebellion? Percy, so I’ll have to confront myself far too soon?

Instead the visitor was decidedly more unknown; a young woman who had appeared by the kitchen threshold with a swish of lavender tulle.

“Oh,” she wrinkled her nose delicately. “It’s kind of dusty in here…”

She had a soft, almost cherubic face, heart-shaped lips and uniquely multi-coloured eyes in which Abigail could detect no underlying malice or deceit; though she had instinctively been searching for it. She was certain they had never met before, but at once the woman seemed strangely familiar.

The light of realisation dawned on her then. She looks exactly like the beautiful woman I saw in Vincent’s portrait earlier…

“Hi!” The girl chirped amiably. “You’re the new arrival here, right? I’m Ellie!”

New arrival…?

Ellie beamed at her with a smile bright enough to rival the sun. Abigail almost squinted at this radiance, finding her almost as difficult to look at.

“…Oh.” She faltered for a moment, placing her teaspoon down gently. Abigail wasn’t quite sure how to react to this. Hadn’t she just moments earlier been fighting for her life? Well, perhaps it was just that she’d never had such a jovial welcome before.

Ellie was kind enough to ignore her slow response, and not discouraged in the slightest, extended a slightly paint-stained hand for her to shake.

“I’m…” Abigail eyed the violet-tangerine splotched palm, half expecting it to produce a knife to stab her with. She tried to settle on a reply.

“…The new arrival. Yes.”

“Well, welcome to Ambrose! It’s been so long since we had a proper visitor and all.” Ellie’s hand felt slightly damp, but it was warm and soft and did not cause her pain.

I had a rather funny welcome, Ellie…

Ellie might’ve been only a smidge taller than Abigail, so it was easy for them to see each other eye-to-eye. For a moment she felt an uncomfortable silence begin to kick in as she allowed her hand to be held limply. Her focus fell onto the colourful splashes on Ellie’s wrist, unwillingly.

“Would you like some…?” Abigail gestured vaguely with her teaspoon back at her coffee. No real point hiding it now. She wanted to stop this touching.

Ellie’s expression brightened further, if that was in any way possible.

“Yes please, if that’s alright!”

Well technically I stole it from you, so…

She quickly turned away and took out another mug from the kitchen drawers - as clean as one she could find - and got to work pouring Ellie a cup of coffee as well. But the woman stopped her gently, insisting that she could do it herself, so Abigail backed off.

“I’m sorry about, um…” Ellie scrunched up her face in an apologetic grimace. “How nasty it kind of is in here, but we’ll find you somewhere nicer soon!”

Abigail concealed a small sigh. It wasn’t exactly in her plans to stay in a place where she was wanted dead; she’d been through that enough already.

Does she not know what the situation is…?

“…Most of these houses are abandoned, then?” She decided to investigate a little, evading these clear attempts to soften up her guard.

The girl’s face lit up in memory. “Yes, they are… Have been for decades, really. It’s mostly just a ghost town here now. Except for us, anyway.”

Us, as in you, Percy and the two brothers…

Abigail was mildly surprised at how honest she was being. Certainly she knew this already, but it was in great contrast to Bo, who had lied to her. Perhaps it would be a good idea to interrogate this one.

“Where do you live, then?” She pressed.

“Just in a house by the outskirts of town. It’s best for my gardens, you see. And it’s wonderfully close to the forest too.” She gave her an enthusiastic little smile. “I’ll show it to you! It’s not far from here anyway, it’s basically me and Vinny’s little retreat.”

Vinny… Abigail just about mentally blanked as she recalled the man who’d just come inches away from cutting her throat an hour earlier.

So, those two both keep their lovers here…

She took a tentative sip as she contemplated this. That nasty, twisted part of her urged to take note of this for later, since it would be oh-so-easy to map out the town for her counterattack and use this girl as a bargaining chip, just as she tried to do with Percy. Ellie seemed overly optimistic and trusting, but Abigail was already expecting that point when she would recoil away from her; it was only a matter of time. This hospitality would not last, so she had to take advantage of it.

“Ok. I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said dully.

It was fine. She could simply spare Percy.

“That’s great. Like I said, not too many visitors lately, and I’m the kind of person who thrives on being able to share things, you know?”

Abigail stared rather intently at the brown-haired girl, still trying to dissect her for clues. Strangely enough, Ellie didn’t even seem unnerved by this, as she expected her to be. She smiled back, as if this was a completely normal occurrence for her. Even after she had figured out that she was the girl in the painting, Abigail still felt like there was something persistently familiar about Ellie. It was probably just that she’d known people like this before, but never really had their approval.

A silky black cat trotted in soon after the girl did and immediately made a beeline toward Abigail, winding in between her legs with a friendly purr.

“This is Salem,” the brunette said, beaming down at the kitten. “Well, he seems to like you!”

“Most cats do…” She murmured.

Abigail couldn’t help but feel charmed by this little fellow and reached down to scratch him between the ears. He chirped a sort of happy mewl in response.

I guess I can spare you as well…

“Actually.” She heard Ellie’s voice lower to a furtive, but slightly excited whisper as she stirred her coffee.

“I know there’s something different about you…”

Abigail felt her breath hitch at this. She was more or less waiting for the other pin to drop, but would it happen so fast?

“Different?” She watched the other girl warily.

“Oh!” Ellie exclaimed. It was as if she’d taken herself by surprise. She flushed slightly. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, I just…”

Ellie scooched closer. “I know you did something really, um… Magical. At least, I think Bo was saying something like that.”

Abigail leaned back against the counter, letting Salem rub his dark furry head against her boots. She knew she had reacted a little too fast, but… She eyed Ellie dubiously.

So you know I reanimated your boyfriend’s statue?

“And you believe in magic?” She probed. It came out as more condescending than she intended.

“Yes!” Ellie said eagerly. “I actually know a bit…”

It was then. She’d lifted her hand to rearrange her hair, and Abigail caught it. That spoon was moving on its own. The coffee was stirring itself.

That’s… Actual…

“…Do you normally do spells without realising it?” She couldn’t stop herself.

Abigail now realised that feeling of strange familiarity was because she’d detected the spark in another; but this one had a far gentler power than her own.

Ellie’s brows furrowed before a moment before an expression of surprise replaced it. She looked back down at her steaming mug. “Um… Yes, that does happen sometimes.” She admitted. “I guess you caught me.”

She took the teaspoon out and blew on her coffee. Abigail had little time to think on it before Ellie bursted out into an enthusiastic rant.

“Ok, ok, so I was honestly really excited, because this is the first time we’ve had another witch here in Ambrose, so I got up in the middle of painting…” She displayed her hands. “…Just to see you! You did cast a spell back there, didn’t you?”

“…In a manner of speaking, yes.”

Not a particularly nice one, though…

“See, I knew it. You definitely have a sort of… Aura, so I can tell. I’ve always been good with that.” Ellie pulled out a chair and sat down rather neatly, tucking her dress underneath herself. It was a rather grand gown she was wearing, Abigail realised. Again, she was struck by the feeling that this bright young woman felt out of place in this dingy town.

“I should’ve recognised it in you before, honestly.” Abigail bit her lip as she pulled up her own chair, and Salem hopped into her lap. “But you don’t have a nasty bone in your body, do you? I’ll admit, I haven’t as much experience with light magick spells.” She remarked, peering at Ellie’s rosy face.

Ellie blushed, as if she’d just complimented her.

“I mean, I don’t like the idea of hurting anyone with it… I mostly use it to help my garden along, grow some of the more difficult plants and use it to bake, that sort of thing.” She played with her fingers absentmindedly.

“…That’s amazing. I could never do that.” Abigail admitted, running a hand over Salem’s smooth fur. She genuinely meant it, too, despite herself.

Ellie’s face turned an even darker shade of pink.

“But I’m pretty sure those lightning bolts from earlier were yours, right? I’ve never seen someone conjure an entire storm before. Are you a powerful witch?”

Now it was Abigail’s turn to feel bashful.

“I… I can only do black magick, I’m not at all skilled in other kinds. Not like you.” She looked back to Ellie’s mug. That sort of quiet, peaceful spell was difficult for her, someone only used to harming others. But Ellie could do it effortlessly; without even thinking.

At the same time, she was astounded. This was almost an out of body experience; since when did anyone admire her disease and destruction? How was it that this girl seemed completely unperturbed by the monster sitting across from her?

Ellie reached over to clasp their hands together, and Abigail’s eyes shot open in surprise. To her own astonishment, she didn’t pull away. Salem jumped down from Abigail’s lap with a ‘mrrrp’ sound, padding out into the hallway where he disappeared.

“This is so nice. I’d love to show you everything I’ve collected over the years! I have this pretty crystal ball I’ve been trying to scry with, but I’ve taken well enough to divining tarot readings for everyone. Oh, you have to meet Ava too! Do you like art? I think I get a bit of a magic touch when painting sometimes.” It seemed Ellie was fit to burst, unable to contain her excitement, and she bounced up and down in her chair. For Abigail, it was infectious.

And who is Ava…?

“Yes, actually. What were you… Painting?” A thread of curiosity tugged at her brain and refused to stop. She thought back to her own artwork still imprisoned in her car. She imagined that Ellie’s were far less reflective of that inner wrongness; more uplifting.

“My new crocuses! See, that’s why I used a lot of purple. They really just liven up the flowerbeds, you know?” Ellie’s hands still clung to Abigail’s, still not recoiling in horror and the cold and pallor. “And purple’s kind of one of my favourite colours, so…”

“It’s one of mine, too…” She said softly.

Abigail could feel herself slipping again; in the same way she’d gotten carried away with Percy, even with Bo around. Her will to fight was slowly drained by a combination of fatigue and desperation to feel a smidge of affection. She realised the vibrant paint had rubbed off on herself, splotched on her own drab wrists. Then she realised she didn’t even mind.

I’ll have to spare Ellie, too. Or… Will I attack at all?

“Wait, I just realised. I’ve been so rude, I haven’t asked for your name!” Ellie leaned forward to fix her with an earnest gaze, and Abigail stiffened.

She was starting to doubt herself, which wasn’t good. How could she ever do that, when she alone made decisions regarding her fate? When she swore she would never relinquish that control again? She felt herself spiral as Ellie gave her a sisterly squeeze on her trembling hands. For a moment, Abigail studied Ellie’s features. No repulsion, no fear. A sort of acceptance and kinship she had never felt before.

“But don’t worry, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me yet… Just do it in your own time.” Ellie’s voice was soothing and patient, as if she’d read her thoughts. It made her heart ache. How many times had she wished for this? Was it too good to be true?

Then, she made her decision.

(“Names have… Power. It’s not wise to give them away so freely.” Her own words echoed in her mind)

“Abigail.” She finally spoke, smiling shyly, and squeezed her warm hands back.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr, @flower-crowned-lady, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)

[sparkdoesart]

Longest night of my life but uhm heres some quarry headcannon stuff in the format of the rw relationship webs bc i love those (theyre all slugcats because of it but theyre labeled lol) and my friend questioned my hcs

Individuals v

Ryan

Dyl

Kait

Jacob

Nick

Abi

Em

Max

Laura

(I'll have to reblog for Sarah but its pretty simple anyway--)

[atcarpenter]

And Then There Were Two

Abigail (2024), but what if Sammy and Joey both survive together.

This was requested by @random19xxx.

Joey/Sammy, Vampire Sammy

///

Joey’s night was really turning from bad to worse. First the child turned out to be a vampire, and now one of her colleagues for the night had been turned into a puppet for the enemy and was chasing her and Frank through the halls of the decrepit, labyrinthine mansion they were trapped in. She was feeling more and more like a mouse chased by an increasingly large number of stray cats rather than the hardened criminal she was supposed to be. 

Joey’s heart hammered by the time they reached the large library, relief flooding her and the equally out-of-breath ex-cop beside her when the sunlight streaming in through the windows in the room finally reached them. They slowed and turned around to the monster chasing them, seeing if she would follow. Sammy too slowed down when she came into the room. Joey felt unsure if it was because of the sunlight or because she knew its last slivers would fade soon and they would be trapped. She certainly looked like she had all the time in the world to play with them and make them dread what was to come. 

“I’ve always hated this room. My father turned me in here,” Sammy drawled leisurely, one hand running along the columns. “Lots of painful memories.” She smiled. “But it’s never too late to make new ones.” The young woman darted forward, and Joey reacted almost reflexively, yanking a polished silver tray off a table beside her and holding it up into one of the fading rays of daylight, redirecting the light at the approaching vampire.

A loud yelp resounded, and blood as well as bits of flesh came flying their way, covering parts of them. Joey released a small breath and glanced past the silver tray she had been shielding her face from the flying vampire viscera with, some of the tension leaving her body as she realised that it had worked and Sammy was at the very least no longer heading their way. She saw, however, that Sammy was still alive, missing the entirety of her left arm and part of her shoulder, drenched in her own blood. It was baffling to see someone still stand upright with a wound like that, but despite being able to withstand damage as extensive as this, vampires still evidently felt pain. Grimacing and clutching at her wrecked shoulder, Sammy stumbled over to hide behind one of the columns to shield herself from any more reflected daylight and screamed through gritted teeth. A string of curses followed her muffled screams, which Joey wasn’t sure if they belonged to Sammy or her puppeteer Abigail.

“You know you can’t hurt me,” Sammy sang from behind the column. “All you’re doing is hurt poor, sweet Sammy.”

“If she’s even still in there,” Joey muttered.

“Oh, she is,” Sammy assured. “She’s being very mouthy in her head right now. She has such colourful vocabulary.”

“You know that if she annoys you so much, you could just let her go,” Joey snarled.

“Hm, no. I think I’ll keep her.” She glanced past the column and seemed to decide that a one-armed fight in the current situation was not worth it to sacrifice her pawn over. “The sunlight won’t protect you forever, you know. See you in, say, half an hour.” She withdrew to the door, keeping a careful eye on Joey for any sudden movements, but Joey didn’t make any. She had no desire to harm Sammy if she didn’t have to. Although, she wasn’t entirely certain that it was still Sammy under the puppetry, even without any of Abigail’s influence.

Sammy vanished out through the door and back into the darker recesses of the sprawling mansion, leaving Joey and Frank behind uneasily. Their uneasiness, however, did not remain undisturbed for very long as Lambert lured them into a hidden backroom within the bones of the house only a moment later, revealing to them the full extent of the setup they had found themselves caught in this night and offering both of them a deal, seeking to turn them into monsters themselves, team up, and take down the Lady of the house, making off with the spoils. Joey immediately knew she would never say yes to the deal. Frank, however, had very different ideas.

That’s how she found herself a little later face-to-face with recently turned Frank, drenched in blood and being pushed through the wall back into the library, pretty sure she would never get to see her son ever again. Frank, immediately upon being turned, had turned on his sire, killing him within the first seconds of his un-life, drenching both himself and Joey in gallons of vampire blood, intent on being the only one who would make it out alive tonight. When Abigail had showed up shortly after that, he had not hesitated to sink his fangs into her neck too, for all intents and purposes looking as if he had killed her. In the moments that followed, Joey felt significantly more like a rag doll than a human. 

She felt his hand constrict around her throat, her back hitting one of the library’s shelves, shattering the wooden boards and undoubtedly leaving bruises she would still feel weeks from now. Suddenly, the weight of his hand around her throat disappeared and Frank went flying backwards across the room, crashing into a different wall and landing in a heap on the ground floor of the library, books and debris raining down on him. Joey found her footing with ease and looked up at the younger blonde woman who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere beside her, looking altogether very pleased with herself for throwing Frank around like a baseball. Her already short breath catching in her throat, Joey took a step away from Sammy as she turned towards her. The last thing she needed now was another vampire to join the fight over who got to drain her of her blood first. Undeterred however, Sammy got closer and put a hand on her arm that Joey tried to push off.

“You okay?”

“Stay the hell away from me,” Joey snapped and lunged for a stake beside her and was surprised that Sammy didn’t stop her. She just held up her arms and kept her distance. Her previously exploded arm had almost fully regrown by now. Only the skin still looked raw and patchy in places.

“The little demon’s hold on my mind vanished a few minutes ago.”

Still holding the stake out between them, she asked, “How can I trust you?”

“I just saved your life. I could have just let him squeeze the life out of you.”

As Joey considered her words and their truthfulness, she glanced down at Frank on the floor below, who was starting to get out from under the rubble and pushing himself onto his feet again. She decided if Sammy wanted to kill her or drain her, she would probably be trying to do it right now already, so she chose to believe her – for now. Joey bent over and braced her hands on her knees, slowly catching her breath and ignoring the ache in her bruised throat.

"You know you're kinda hot, all covered in blood," Sammy commented, her eyes raking over her form.

Joey stopped and glanced at her before releasing a noise between a chuckle and a scoff at the look in Sammy’s eyes that was a very different kind of “hungry”.

"Am I not a little too old for you?" she muttered with a raised brow, but could not suppress the slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Sammy looked unperturbed. "So?" she asked, still smiling obnoxiously and chewing on the corner of her lip with her canines. "It does look appetising," she went on, still letting her eyes roam over her drenched skin.

"Of course it does," Joey rolled her eyes. Sammy leaned closer, cocking her head a little and hovering over her. "Keep your fangs where I can see them," Joey snapped.

Sammy backed away diligently and held up both of her hands by her sides. “Jeez.”

They both straightened back up when they heard Frank, almost leisurely, come back up the stairs to the gallery, bits of plaster and wood splinters still clinging to his hair and clothes, holding a jagged piece of a wooden board in one hand.

“Sammy, you really should not have done that,” he sneered. “Or should I say Abigail.”

Sammy turned towards his voice and put on an unimpressed face. “Wow, Frank, you are surprisingly even uglier undead.”

Frank’s features twitched. “You think you’re funny, do you?” He held the piece of splintered wood up towards her. “You’re still just a spoiled little brat who doesn't know when it’s time to shut her stupid fucking mouth.”

Sammy shrugged. Frank darted forward, aiming the wood at her heart. Sammy was fast, faster than him, perhaps. At least her reflexes were good, catching his hands almost with ease. She held him back, but she was struggling. He was stronger than her. It was evident. Maybe it was because he had been turned differently, not by a simple bite, but by drinking an actual vampire’s blood. But in the net total, she was clearly losing. Joey decided to get involved and stabbed her stake towards his heart, and to avoid it, Frank let off of Sammy to avoid his untimely death. Sammy stumbled backwards and steadied herself quickly, rubbing at her throat. 

This, unfortunately, drew his attention back to Joey, and he snapped forward, the back of his hand hitting across her cheekbone, making her gasp. Before she even had time to recover and look back up, his hand was back at her throat, and he jerked her around, her feet dangling without purchase, high up in the air over the edge of the gallery, glancing down at the drop below her, her hands scrabbling for purchase on his arm. It was hard trying to force air into her lungs as she watched him, his eyes trained at Sammy, an almost mocking glint in them, all of them knowing that if Sammy moved, Joey would drop and probably break several bones. Sammy did not move.

But Frank slowly turned back to Joey with a smile on his face, that she would have only loved to wipe off his stupid face, and dropped her.

She was vaguely aware of movement in the gallery but was too distracted by her fall to pay attention to either Frank or Sammy.

She had about one second to brace for the inevitable breaking of bones, readying herself to break the fall as best as she possibly could, but the crashing impact never came, instead landing softly, her fall unexpectedly feathered by a pair of arms that immediately let her go as she scrambled away from them and looked down at the little vampire ballerina in horror. One break from being cornered by vampires was all she wished for, but at least her bones were not broken yet.

The fight still continuing above, she listened to Abigail’s proposition of an alliance to kill Frank together. She could not see a single way of surviving the night if she and Sammy had to fight both Frank and Abigail at the same time. The girl seemed sincere too. In the end, she found herself agreeing to her offer to team up and fight together.

From above their heads came another crashing sound, and Sammy crashed into another bookshelf. Frank jumped down to the ground floor, standing opposite Joey and Abigail. They turned to him, eyeing him as he in turn mustered them. He still had this cocky smile on his face as if he saw nothing troubling in the situation of suddenly finding himself in a position, three against one. Abigail leapt towards him, almost landing on top of him, and Joey headed after her. Maybe, if they actually coordinated, they could do it and stake him, with some luck even quickly. It seemed promising for a single moment, when he held Abigail at bay, both his hands full, trying to keep her fangs and her fingers from his throat. Joey’s stake braced at his heart, she thrust. 

The stake never met its target. The air was knocked out of her in the next moment, when the vampire child’s body suddenly collided with her and they both went tumbling backwards, the girl having been thrown off violently by him. They both disentangled and scrambled back to their feet. She eyed Frank attentively, mentally plotting her next move, when she heard movement from her right and turned towards it. Sammy came hurrying up to Joey’s side and glanced between her and Abigail in irritation, taking in the situation.

“Wait, we’re siding with her?” Sammy snapped, pointing at the child-vampire.

“If you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

“She used me as a playtoy,” Sammy hissed out between her clenched, sharpened teeth.

Joey did not listen. “We need her!” she hissed back.

Sammy seemed utterly unconvinced and cocky even. “I can take him,” she insisted. Joey scowled.

“I don't see you taking him," she snapped.

Sammy threw up her hands and looked at Joey in a way that made it clear she would be blaming her if Abigail turned on them and chewed out their hearts directly from their chests. In reality, Sammy looked more like a petulant child, but begrudgingly, she agreed, “Urgh, fuck. Okay, alright.”

But even together, he managed to outstep them, never directly facing more than one at a time. He managed to jam a large piece of wood into Sammy’s shoulder, pushing her off as she screamed out in pain, clutching at the offending object. In the next moment, he managed to push Abigail off as well, and Joey found herself facing him alone and exposed. He broke off a pole from the room’s decor and advanced on her with a predatory grin. She screamed out when it pierced her shoulder and he drove her back until she hit something solid, and he kept on pushing it deeper until she felt the pole exit her shoulder on her back, burying in the metal she was pressed against deep enough to stay stuck, pinning her. When he pulled back, pleased with himself, he turned to Abigail and Sammy, who was still busy removing the piece of wood carefully from her shoulder.

Singling Abigail out, he headed for her, wrangling her until he managed to sink his fangs into her neck, drinking quickly before snapping her neck and dropping her unceremoniously. Still trying to recover from her own injury and realising that she was currently alone in facing him, Sammy hesitated in approaching Frank again, even as he rounded the room towards Joey and pulled her free from the pole that held her trapped. The woman screamed as the pole scraped against her wound from the inside until she was free and Frank pulled her against himself, hanging limply in his arms, dazed and spent.

His fangs sank into Joey’s neck as he demonstratively made eye contact with Sammy, taking visible delight in making her watch as he quickly drained blood from the woman’s neck. Joey didn’t even have the wherewithal left to scream. Sammy behind her stood frozen. Joey couldn’t see her face, but she heard a sound from behind her that sounded almost suspiciously like a whimper as Sammy now faced having to stand against Frank alone as the last one standing. So she stayed frozen, unable to choose to intervene as Joey’s blood drained from her, leaving her feeling weaker and weaker.

Feeling unpleasantly dazed and frail, she dropped to the floor when he pulled his fangs from her flesh and let go. Not done with her yet and without taking his eyes off of Sammy, Frank knelt down beside her prone form and started muttering orders to her, evidently having learned from Abigail’s earlier stunt with Sammy and thinking he could control and puppeteer her just the same. She, however, felt oddly clear. As he instructed her, she got to her feet, stiffly keeping her face averted from him, neither wanting to know what she would find if she looked at him, nor wanting him to see how little his trick had worked if he looked into her eyes. Sammy, however, clearly believed every word of it, staring at her in abject horror. Putting his hands onto Joey’s shoulders, he directed her gaze at Abigail’s supine form.

“Kill her.”

As if following suit, Joey took a step forward, with the stake clutched in one of her hands, then another. Snapping out of her pretended trace, she whirled around and jammed the stake she was holding into Frank’s chest instead with as much force as she could still muster, which must have been a lot given by how quickly the startled surprise on his face shifted to a strained grimace as the put his hands over hers to push the stake away from his heart. Sammy appeared at her side almost instantly, wrestling with Frank’s grip, forcing his arms back and staggering him. It seemed almost like they had the upper hand for a moment, before he managed to wrench an arm free, his fist colliding with Sammy’s face, getting her to loosen her grip. Joey dodged his attempt to grab her, but did not manage to pull the stake from his chest as well, letting go of it in an effort to get away from his reach. 

She scrambled away from him, heading towards the pole still stuck in the wall that she had been pierced with before. Behind her, she heard the stake clattering to the floor. Looking over her shoulder just briefly as she reached the pole, she saw Sammy lunging at Frank again, which would be enough to buy her some time. She tugged the pole free from the wall with some effort that strained the injury in her shoulder unpleasantly, feeling the blood squelch out. She turned around to see Frank and Sammy locked in a struggle for the upper hand, the stake still lying discarded at their feet. Coming up behind him unnoticed, she put the pole over his head and pulled it hard against his throat, forcing him back, scrabbling at his neck and leaving off of Sammy. Awkwardly, Joey pulled him down to the ground in their struggle, landing on her back and holding him in place while he pulled Sammy along with them, landing on top of him, locked in turn in his grip. As Sammy tried to struggle free from his grasp, Joey saw Abigail move and twitch in the background. Her body slowly healed, putting itself together again with an unpleasant cracking resounding loud enough to even be heard over their struggle.

Her heart pounding in her chest and her arms getting tired, Joey watched as Abigail picked up the stake and headed for them, leaping to land on top of Frank. Sammy managed to move aside enough to open the line of sight to his heart, Frank switching from wrangling Sammy to try and keep the stake at bay. Watching the unbalanced struggle with Abigail still being weaker even with the superior leverage and her limited added bodyweight, Joey let go of her hold on him and discarded the pole to move out from under him and to Abigail’s side. Grabbing the stake as well, she started leaning on it with all of her strength as well. Behind them, Sammy came up as well, leaning heavily on the stake. Together, they drove the wood deeper and deeper into his chest, now that he no longer stood a chance against their combined strength.

A resigned, capitulating “Fuck” escaped Frank just before they finally pierced his heart. His body exploded in a violent fountain of blood that threw all of them back several metres, where they came to an ungentle halt, covered in his blood and pieces of his flesh. Sammy’s fall was feathered by Joey, her elbow landing painfully in the older woman’s stomach, earning her a small groan. For a moment, they just slowly got their bearings back and mentally checked if any part of their bodies had been broken and looked around the mess in the room, now covered in nothing but blood and viscera.

“This is disgusting,” Sammy complained with a whine. 

Joey just responded with a “Hrmph” and pushed Sammy off of herself and picked herself slowly off the ground, almost absently offering Sammy a hand up, that she gingerly took, while looking around at the carnage they had caused. Her eyes drifted over to Abigail. She had landed a few metres away and had also gotten back to her feet, her dress no longer white. 

“I really didn't need another guts-bath tonight …” Sammy tried to fish some of the bits of flesh out of her tangled and no-longer blonde tresses. Given Sammy’s usual complaining, she seemed to be alright, and she followed Joey without comment when she headed over to Abigail with a limp, although Sammy kept glaring daggers at the other vampire.

She wanted to say something, some form of parting words or expression of gratitude for still being alive. Maybe she just wanted to check that the young vampire would keep her word and let them leave here alive. But she could not think of anything meaningful and appropriate to say, and the words all died on her tongue. In the end, they just almost wordlessly acknowledged each other and Joey turned to leave, putting a hand on Sammy’s arm and guiding her along.

As they neared the doors, Abigail’s voice rang out again, calling Joey’s name, causing them to stop and look back towards her. Joey and Abigail exchanged some surprisingly heartfelt words on parenthood, and Abigail expressed how she wanted Joey to have a good future with Caleb. The almost heartwarming moment of parting was interrupted when a looming presence suddenly appeared behind them in the door. At Abigail’s almost frightened sounding, “Father, no!” Joey and Sammy turned around to find themselves face to face with Lazar. Both of them staggered back in an effort to get away from him. They both knew who he was and what he was likely capable of. He was more dangerous than Abigail. In comparison to him, she was perhaps more like a tiger cub.

As they backed away, Joey staggered and slipped in the blood covering the room, falling backwards onto the ground. Lazar continued advancing towards them. To both of their surprise, Abigail decided to put herself between them and him. Joey used the moment to take Sammy’s offered hand to get back to her feet.

After listening to Abigail’s defence, Lazar rounded her and approached Joey, his eyes glossing over the younger vampire by her side almost in disinterest. Sammy, having lost all of her previous bravado, clung to Joey’s arm and acted like Joey was her personal shield from the ancient vampire regardless. Lazar probably enjoyed the effect he was having on them, but he did not harm them, seeming instead rather courteous. In the end, he let them both go. They turned back around one last time when Abigail bid them goodbye with a “See you around”. After that, Sammy could not get out of the building fast enough and dragged the limping and slightly protesting Joey behind her until they finally hit the cool, welcoming nightair outside.

With a smile, Sammy dashed ahead to the driver’s side of the car, yanking it open.

“Not a chance.” Joey hurried after her, and her hand shot out to slam the car door back shut. “I have seen you drive, Sammy.”

The newly turned vampire grinned, the blood around her mouth rendering the sight more unsettling than it already was. “I was running late. ‘sides, you’re injured. I’m driving.” She smiled widely, pushed Joey back, and pulled the door back open, sliding onto the seat before Joey had another chance to protest. Her eyes rolling and the aching in her body keeping her from wanting to argue the point further, she resigned to letting herself be driven. She made her way back around the car and settled into the passenger seat, groaning a little.

Joey leaned back and fished in her pocket. She tried to let the tension drop off of her. When she found what she was looking for, she was delighted to see that the lollipop was remarkably still clean despite the rest of her being covered in blood from her head to her boots. In that moment, it tasted like victory and forgetting. For at least a moment.

At her side, Sammy glanced over at her, taking in her form. Whether from looking at the blood painting her skin or seeing her enjoy something edible, she complained, “I’m hungry.” She sighed, and Joey did not know if she was just being dramatic or being serious for a change. “You do look appetising,” Sammy grumbled. Joey was not about to ask just how appetising she really looked or how it felt to experience the hunger she must be feeling right now. She sighed again, sounding defeated this time. “I don’t even know where I’m going to get blood from now.”

“I’ll help you.” She didn’t even hesitate.

“You will?” Sammy perked up.

“Yes, I'm not going to let you navigate this all on your own. Besides, you will need someone who can actually walk around during the day, right?” Joey added with a crooked smile that Sammy returned. “We’ll figure this out.”

Looking significantly more hopeful, Sammy glanced at her once more and drove them out of there, knowing that wherever they were heading now, she would not have to do it all alone, whatever her life as an undead vampire would look like now.

[tickle-bugs]

Oooo! Maybe something for RDR2? Lers Sadie and Abigail, lee John? Word: “raspberries?”

Tw for Alcohol 

Sweet Firelight

The firelight whispers to Abigail as it caresses her face, leaving her as warm as the whiskey in her hand. She watches the flames dance and twitch before her before she tips her head to the stars. She shifts on the log she’s sitting on and heaves a deep sigh. 

Another successful job means a camp-wide celebration--just quiet enough to keep up their ruse of innocent workin’ folk, but loud enough for everyone to let off steam in a safe environment. The scraps of dinner lay in a pile not too far from her, slowly wheedling away by the hands of Uncle and Mr. Pearson as they engage in a dreadful game of chess. 

Abby’s eyes track slow over the camp. Tilly, Karen, and Mary have made themselves busy running a fight ring--she can hear them chirping ‘just friendly competition’ even where she is. She smiles and watches Bill put poor Lenny in a headlock.  The distant shouts twist and float around her ears. It’s gotten easier, with time, to embrace foolishness in the face of doom. She’s learned how to unclench her fists, how to breathe in deep without a tightness to her chest. She’s still working on the melancholic ache that hangs heavy from her ribs, but that too will come with time. 

Heavy weight plops onto the log next to her. 

“John.” She smiles, biting back her amusement. He mumbles something at her before getting lost in the twisting light of the campfire. He leans their shoulders together and steals a sip of her drink. He’s adorably rumpled and missing his coat, with dirt streaked up his bare forearms and the visible part of his chest.

“Don’t tell me them boys wore you out.” She chuckles. 

“‘M gettin’ old,” he grumbles. 

“Well, you’ll always be a boy to me,” She coos, knocking back the last bit of whiskey and tossing the empty bottle. It thunks into the glass and rolls to a stop out of the way. 

“That wasn’ a compliment…” John frowns. 

“No it wasn’t.” She pats his knee fondly. He puts his hand over hers, rough with callouses, scars, and a lifetime of hard work. She turns her hands over so their weathered palms can meet. John laces their fingers together. 

“This’s the same boy you fell for, though,” he grins, irritatingly charming despite the stench of liquor on his breath. There’s love etched into the lines and scars on his face. Her muscles sigh with the trees, somber and steady.

“Damn straight.” She pulls him forward by the chin for a kiss. The scratch of stubble is welcome beneath her fingertips. He makes a startled noise as his log tips. Abigail pulls away, but then John’s scooping her up and pulling her into his lap. She leans into him--partly to feel the solid pressure of his warm hand on her lower back, mostly not to topple directly into the fire. 

“Still fallin’ for me, I see.” John waggles his eyebrow, barking out a raspy laugh when Abigail swats him upside the head. 

“I sure hope this dog ain’t botherin’ you, Abby.” Sadie rights the fallen stump beside them and claims it for herself.

“Aw, he ain’t nothin’ but a puppy.” Abigail pinches John’s cheek and his face pops pink. She kisses his blushing cheeks, egged on by the buzz of liquor down her spine and the bashful smile John’s failing to hide behind the downward tip of his hat. 

“Alright, ladies. I’ll, uh, take my leave. ‘Scuse me.” He starts to pick Abigail up so he can stand, but Sadie makes an irritated noise and waves a flippant hand. 

“Sit, Marston. Some quality time won’t kill ya. ‘Sides, I don’t think you wanna get between Arthur and winnin’ that bet.” Sadie jerks a thumb towards the scuffles on the edge of camp, where Arthur and Bill are tussling like stray cats in a back alley. Arthur pins Bill’s face into the dirt, both of them laughing up a storm. 

“I could take him.” John practically pouts. Abby doesn’t bother to hide her laughter. Arthur could and has lifted John like a sack of potatoes. It would hardly be a fight. 

“I could!” He protests, indignant, and she curls forward to snicker into the crook of his neck. Her fingers brush the nape of his neck and he makes a choked noise. She leans back and immediately grips his face, her slightly-swimming gaze boring directly into his soul.

“John Marston, are you injured?” She squeezes tighter. 

“No--”

“You better not be lying to me, or I swear I’ll--” 

“Abby.” He grabs her wrist and pulls her hand away. He refuses to meet her eyes, his face pinker than the liquor should allow. “I promise. Not hurt. Just--”

“No way.” Sadie’s jaw falls slack before her lips twist into a gleeful smile. “It must be my lucky day.” 

“No. No! Adler, stay the hell away from me.” John backs away, hands outstretched. Abby has to catch herself before she falls, and when she goes to chastise him, she sees a depth of apprehension from John that she’s unused to. 

“Am I missin’ somethin’?” Abigail laughs, only a little nervous. Sadie probably wouldn’t kill him. Probably. John and Sadie stare each other down, both twitching and feinting for the other to make a move. The tension folds on itself and builds, jumping high with the embers of the campfire. 

John bolts, but he barely makes it a few steps before Sadie’s clambering on his back and taking him down to the dirt. They both roll around, incoherent expletives and pleas rising from their twisted pile. 

“Sadie, wait!” Abigail runs with surer footing than she would’ve guessed of herself. She tries to pull Sadie off by the waist, but she doesn’t budge--she’s gotten solid in the time she’s been with the gang. 

John’s…laughing. Abigail slackens her grip and peers over Sadie's shoulder. 

“Jesus, Sadie! Made me think I was gonna have to kill you or somethin’.” Abigail heaves a deep sigh of relief and presses her hand to her racing heart. Sadie looks up at her with a cocky grin and a glitter in her eye that makes Abigail’s face burn.

Goddamn it, she’s gotta stop fallin’ for reckless cowboys. 

“Well, if you want…you can most certainly help me.” Sadie purrs, pushing back against John’s attempts to shove her off. John grabs Sadie’s face and she licks his palm. The screech he releases sends the fight ring into a furtive pause on the other side of camp, before laughter picks up at John’s fate.

“Kick his ass, Adler!” Arthur’s raspy voice carries with little effort.

“With pleasure!” Sadie worms a hand under John’s arm and his entire being buckles. He cackles and throws his head back, his hat rolling sadly away into the grass. He lets out a string of garbled noises and tries to flop over on his side, absolutely trembling with the force of his laughter. 

Oh. Oh. Abigail’s smile grows so wide it hurts. 

She drops unceremoniously to the ground and starts gathering John into her arms. She slips her fingers under his vest and fits them to the grooves of his ribs, leaning forward to force him to sit up a bit more. 

“Abby!” He yelps and drums his heels into the dirt. He wrenches his eyes shut and turns away from the sky, as if the stars are to blame for his poor judgment. Personally, Abby wants to thank them for giving her a lapful of giggly cowboy. 

She kisses the back of his neck and almost gets her face crunched in, but she continues her trail around the curve, right where he can’t escape. Her heart blooms with a fondness that terrifies her but she chases the fading dredges of her liquid courage and leans into it. She says ‘I love you’ in prompt squeezes to John’s sides, ones that make him snort and Sadie screech in delight. She murmurs sweet nothings into his neck and the spot just behind his ear, smiling into his skin. His laughter peters into silence before rocketing back into full volume. He kicks his legs and tosses his head, his hair a stringy and unsalvageable mess. 

“Hey Sadie,” Abigail drawls, “Wanna see somethin’ cute?”

“Abby, darlin’, hold on a minute--”

Abigail waits until Sadie’s eye sparkles with interest before dipping her head low, finding the point just before his collarbone. She inhales, relishes in John’s tumbling please, and blows a raspberry into his neck. He squeals and chooses his dignity over escape, burying his head deep into his hands.

“You’re evil.” John pants, but his eyes crinkle with tired joy at the corners. He reaches up and caresses her cheek.

“You love it,” she hums, leaning down to kiss him. He presses up into her, sighing into her mouth. His hands find her waist, awkward at this angle, but still firm and sure.

Abigail’s world inverts and she yelps, scrabbling for purchase. She grabs a fistful of John’s shirt, pulling their bodies nearly flush. She catches the mischievous sparkle in John’s eye far too late. 

“My turn!” He laughs evilly, pressing his thumbs into the softness of her stomach. She screeches and arches back into the dirt, her hair tumbling free of its bun. John dips in and rubs his stubble against her neck and she screams, plunging into desperate giggles that make her chest burn with exertion. She’s not proud of the noises she makes by any stretch, but she is proud of the way Sadie sidles up behind him, silent and deadly, poised for the strike. 

[sheepiling]

15 Questions for 15 Mutuals

Thank you to @cantseemtohide for the tag! 🤗 

1. Are you named after anyone? 

I was adopted at 18 months and never met my biological mother after that so I have no way of knowing; my adoptive parents didn’t change my first or middle names. 

2. When was the last time you cried? 

I always cry during period week. And every time I watch Encanto. 

3. Do you have kids? 

Not yet! My husband and I do want at least one kid, though. Maybe two! Not yet, though. 

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? 

Only for friends that like sarcasm. If I don’t know someone well enough to know their sense of humor yet or I know they don’t like sarcasm then I don’t use it around them. I enjoy it but it’s situational for me. 

5. What sports do you play / have you played? 

I was in marching band in high school, and when I was little I took ballet classes, though I didn’t stay in those long enough to graduate to pointe shoes. idk if those count as sports but that’s the only physical activities I did growing up. Nowadays I just do weights and jogging. 

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people? 

Personality, vibe checks, & whether or not I wanna actually talk to them or just be polite and yeet out of there. 

7. Eye color? 

Greyish-blue! Sometimes tealish. It depends on the lighting and what I’m wearing. But usually a light turquoise blue-grey color. 

8. Scary Movies or Happy Endings? 

While I love classic horror and occult halloweeny things, I love fairy tales more, so happy endings wins! Also I dislike all the modern horror stuff that’s a bunch of gore and jump scares and violence. I prefer horror that’s 80s or older. But I love all fairy tale movies no matter when they’re made! 

9. Any special talents? 

My long-term memory is abnormally good. I can vividly remember back to kindergarten. However, my short term memory is crap. I’m always losing my phone. 😅 

10. Where were you born? 

F L O R I D A 

11. What are your hobbies? 

Playing Sims and being on Simblr (obviously) but I also like a couple MMORPGs that I play with my guild. I’m also in the choir at my Unitarian Universalist church, and I still play Flute and Bodhrán privately. I’ve been meaning to join a local drum circle but haven’t dedicated the time to that yet. 

12. Do you have any pets? 

Yes! I have 2 cats, Abigail and Tigger, and they’re mother and son! Though if we’re counting my mom’s & mi suegra’s pets as well then we have a total of 6 pets in the family. My mom has 3 cats, Little One, Midnight, and Dev (all are rescued strays ♡) and my husband’s family has a yorkie named Toby. 💕  and that puppy is mad spoiled they have baby strollers for him and take him everywhere! 😂 

13. How tall are you? 

In freedom metrics I’m 5′4″ 

14. Favorite subject in school? 

I always liked music / band the most! When you’re in marching band it consumes your entire life. The rehearsals are so long. But that’s where all my friends were so it was amazing. 💖 

15. Dream job? 

I flunked out of college twice, I’ve kind of given up on any type of careers. My husband is able to support us and I just get part time things when I’m able. Once we have kids I plan on being a stay-at-home mom, and if USA doesn’t fix the violence in schools problem we’ve been having by the time our future kiddos are ready for school I’ll probably homeschool at least the early elementary years. Though once the math gets too advanced for me to be able to teach I’ll need to look for other options ‘cuz I can’t homeschool the whole K~12. Hopefully we can get some kind of education reform by that time. 

And now to tag peeps! I’m a bit late to answer this b/c of my Mexico trip and a lot of people have done this already. Also, 15 people is A LOT for a tag game so I’m just gonna pick the most recent mutuals in my Activity log! Sorry if you already did this. If anyone else didn’t get a ping for this tag and wants to do it you can totes tag me as the person that tagged you, though! ♡ 

@helenofsimblr @sparkiekong @sassie-sims @druidberries @daydreamertrait @timberllania @sir-silly @nolongerafruit @nightlifeseries @silverspringsimmer @coliemoongaming @sims-for-semi @saps-sims @faetheegrey @talesofsimverse 

[kiss-my-freckle]

"Identically different" means Hannibal and Will are like brothers. Even though they're like brothers, they're different just as two biological brothers would be. Most tv shows are good with their scene cuts. 1x4 is the episode to watch, especially their scene cuts.

This is what three seasons of Hannigram does.

Will is capable of justifiable murder, which makes it possible for him to kill serial killers like Hobbs and Francis. He's a god-like killer, showing love and mercy. That's why he pushes Chiyoh to kill her prisoner, and would've killed Hannibal quickly had Chiyoh not shot him. Why he's often compared to Hobbs, even connects to him as much as he does, then goes off when he sees the copycat killer's first crime scene. He doesn't agree with unnecessary suffering, so you can see and feel the difference between his responses in the pilot episode. He saw Chiyoh's prisoner in a state of suffering, and he ended it through her. He loves Hannibal, so he wouldn't have him suffer. Even though Hobbs killed, he killed with love and honored his victims in being merciful. Will is disgusted by the copycat killer because he cut her lungs out while she was still breathing, which means she felt it. There was no "comfort" for Will in seeing his crime scene. Easy to honor someone while killing them, like Jack killing his cancerous wife. Francis was written a certain way so that Will would end up bloody and broken by the time they were done. If not for their intention, Will would've killed Francis quickly... with his gun. It's of my opinion that Will could and would continue killing as long as the kill was justifiable. It's also of my opinion that he wouldn't bother having them confined, whether prison or mental institution. He'd consider death a more loving and merciful solution.

Hannibal is a devil-like killer, capable of killing anyone he considers a pig, and he shows no mercy whatsoever. Rather than kill swiftly, he plays with his victims like a cat would a mouse. He actually has his victims eating themselves. Such is the case with Abel and Bedelia. Rather than kill Will, then dine on his brains, he began sawing into his head while he was still breathing. Other instances like the man with the ice pick in his head, left for the sake of Bedelia playing her own role in his death, thus sharing the blame. Or Mason, who he had eat his own face and left him paralyzed. His kills aren't justifiable, as he's killing people simply because they piss him off or disgust him, and he's far more merciful to actual pigs. He had a conversation about this while dining with Jack and his wife. He has an ethical butcher because he has no taste for animal cruelty. Human cruelty is another story, but Hannibal relates more to animals because he is one. Thus, the "person" suit. It's of my opinion that Will and Hannibal would continue changing each other, but they'll always be what they are. Will being a god-like killer, Hannibal being a devil-like killer. it's because of this, they'd either have to kill separately, suffer loneliness in going their separate ways... or die together as two brothers would.

Being like brothers, they understand and love each other. The thin line between human and animal is embedded in their relationship. Will's family is a pack of dogs. Like Abigail, Hannibal is another stray to him. They show this twice in the third season. In their goodbye scene, Will told Hannibal he'd miss his dogs but not him. Again when he returned. When Jack urged Will not to adopt the family dog, he was then desperate to see Hannibal. I believe they introduced the dead family cat to represent Hannibal. If not for Will's unwillingness to accept what Hannibal wanted for him - for both of them, Mason would've ended up like Francis because they both wanted him dead.

Jack and Alana are split. While their kills are justifiable, they're not merciful. Jack got off on torturing Hannibal at the museum, and Alana was perfectly fine with Hannibal being served on Mason's dinner table. While he was confined at the hospital, both Jack and Alana were taunting and punishing Hannibal, this person-suited animal. Alana compared him to a cat just as Chiyoh did. Again, the dead cat that Francis killed. Animals like to play just as humans do, especially cats. Hannibal was having fun playing with Will and his ready-made family. A family that still required dogs because Will connected to those dogs better than he did to his wife and stepson.

Jack was never family to Will. I'd so much as say he was never even a friend to him. To put it bluntly... if Jack were a true friend, he'd have more scars than Will. As far as I'm concerned, Hannibal and those dogs were the only true friends Will had in the show. As Hannibal said in the series finale, "No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend." Every bit what Hannibal and those dogs would do for Will. That's why Hannibal took his lumps from Francis. Jack and Alana, not a chance in hell. They're all about themselves, their own lives. "Hannibal gave you three years to build a family and a life, confident he'd find a way to take them from you." Bedelia's comment fit more to Jack than it did to Hannibal, but that's just my opinion. It's because of this, I do believe Will would kill Jack and Alana, but demand mercy if Hannibal were to be involved.

While Will's mind is no longer bound by fear or kindness, I do believe he'd be fine with Bedelia eating herself. More so because she's split differently than Jack and Alana. Jack and Alana would do anything to stop a serial killer despite showing no mercy. While I do consider Bedelia merciful, she's more of an enabler. She did nothing to stop Hannibal from killing, she simply tried to escape him so that he wouldn't kill her. It would've been better for her to kill Hannibal, and with mercy just as she would crush a wounded bird. I consider this line from Bedelia a lie. "Extreme acts of cruelty require a high level of empathy." It's of my opinion that she wanted Will to believe she's capable of extreme acts of cruelty. She's not. I wouldn't even consider her a killer even though she tries to sell herself as one. All of her kills were manipulated by Hannibal. She never took part as Will did. From my own pov, she's like Jack and Alana in one single regard. Hannibal and other "crazy sons of bitches" are entertainment to her, to them. Jack, Alana, Bedelia, even Frederick. They're the faces in the crowd.

Frederick wanted to use Francis for another book sale. A book that was all about Frederick rather than Francis, which was the point. A story about Hannibal shouldn't sell Frederick's face on the jacket. It should be Hannibal's story, or written for educational purposes. If for educational purposes, should have nothing but the truth written within it. He and Alana both admitted it was full of lies. As far as I'm concerned, Bedelia masks her cat-like curiosity and face in the crowd amusement behind her oath to do no harm. So long as she's not the one killing or dying, she's simply there for the show. Even though I do believe Will is capable of cruelty, I'd consider it a rarity for him. He'll always prefer mercy. Similarly, Hannibal would rarely let his victims die swiftly and without suffering. Again, the thin line between human and animal. Will can't expect a tiger to be humane to humans, but Hannibal should expect a human to be humane to tigers. Not all animals hurt humans and not all humans hurt animals. Best to question if Will the dog owner would kill a tiger. I say this because that's what Hannibal is. A stray cat rather than a stray dog. Thus, Francis and the tiger... and him killing that family cat.

In real life, cats and dogs can co-exist in the same home. Like brothers, identically different.

[satan-was-a-writer]

Bite

Source

CW: Cassandra POV Biting, Blood, Fear, Very Sensual Cassandra

This is personalized for @jezebel-benievento999! If you would like a personalized piece, message me! Yellow is Cass' thoughts by the way.

Abigail bolted through the castle, escaping me. It was always a fun game of cat and mouse. Definitely not tag; I despise tag. She screams, runs, and laughs, and I do the same behind her. She begins to tremble when I finally catch her. Why? I can't put my finger on it.

God...I love it when my prey trembles.

My tongue glides over the delicate skin of her neck... Her pulse was strong against my tongue. So frenzied, so terrified...so liberating.

"Please, don't bite me!" What?

My midnight-colored lips are painted with a smirk as I nuzzle her neck. Her pulse is pounding. "You talk all this game and you can't take a bite..." I press my lips to her throat as I whisper. I felt a chill go down her spine. Oh, how it makes me tingle... Abigail slowly pulls me away, a fearful expression in her hazel eyes. Her stunning hazel eyes.

"Okay...okay...how about this..."

I begin to whisper with a gentle purr on my lips. "Shut your eyes, dragoste..." I inhale deeply as I delicately nuzzle her neck. "Relax..." I glide my fingertips across her shoulders and arms. I can feel her muscles untensing as she relaxes beneath my touch.

"Fata buna..." I speak softly upon her skin. My lips trailed up to her neck, kissing her shoulder softly. She tenses up again. "No no...calm down." I trace my fingertips across her abdomen, feeling her eventually relax, but her heart continues to pound.

I sink my fangs into her flesh, and her blood tastes delicious. Her blood is just like wine on my tongue. It tastes tart and sweet, similar to pomegranate and apple. My mouth is filled with the crimson liquid. Her blood has a strong, smoky flavor, akin to cinnamon. It tastes like nirvana on my tongue.

When I finish, I notice her becoming weak. Humming at the flavor, I lick the stray blood away. Before smirking, I kiss the mark I left on her neck. That will be there for a while. She gently touches her neck. I notice the blood trickling down her pale fingertips. I take her fingers and lick the blood away softly. I ran my tongue along her neck, savoring the stray blood. Stark on her skin. With a faint grin, I murmur my next words on her skin.

"See? Not that bad, right?"

[turtlycute]

Okay, I'm just putting this out there... I definitely think that the end sequence for Great Pretender is not just random cute animation but clues to the bigger story being told.

I've been leaning towards the theory that the cat is Laurent because out of everyone he seems like the biggest "pretender" of all the characters.

And these three kitties represent Cynthia, Makoto and Abigail. I mean they are pretty much Laurent's main backups and they always end up singing to his toon.

And just like in the story Cynthia, Abby and Makoto all have moments where they have to scramble or even have there lives upended by Laurent's schemes, while Laurent gets out smoothly and fairly unscathed.

The cat in the end sequence is also portrayed several times as a loner making his way through life. Even alone in a alleyway...

*Congratulations! You've made it to the wild speculation and crack theory portion of this post!*

And this little alley cat kinda gets to my point that the end sequence has clues to the bigger story and Laurent is the key to that story. I think Laurent definitely was a "stray" or "alley" cat in his youth and even to this day he seems to be more of a wanderer than anything else. There are several aspects of Laurent's personality that just feel very cat like too me. I can definitely see him as a tough starved little alley cat that's been tamed and civilized but always keeps people at a distance because he can't forget those early lessons in the streets.

Tbh, I think that he was one of the young people trapped by the human trafficking ring that Makoto's father, Okazaki, was caught up in. I don't believe Okazaki is a bad guy, just someone who got caught doing something bad for all the right reasons. Perhaps Laurent was someone Okazaki tried to help and/or was working with to end the human trafficking ring. (There is even the possibility that Miki is the one that brought Laurent to Okazaki's attention like a little lost cat) The news story about Okazaki's arrest specifically mentions the victims being foreigners so Laurent would fit that description. I also think we might even find out that Laurent is one of or the only one Okazaki adopted as mentioned in the news story. Basically Laurent seems like he might have been a wild little alley cat that Okazaki found and couldn't leave out in the cold. That's why Laurent just seems like the best option to be represented as a wandering cat.

Anyway, Okazaki basically saves Laurent but he ends up trapped by the police sting that took out the ring. Now, Laurent is trying to live up the debt he owes Okazaki by taking out the wider/global elements of the human trafficking ring and looking after Okazaki's son (perhaps Laurent's adopted brother) in the only way he knows how.

As for the ring, I think that's a piece of a bigger puzzle, a clue to a time when Laurent felt safe, warm and happy. Maybe a clue to his parents like Abby's medal or a clue to an important relationship that he lost like Cynthia's tin.

Needless to say I can't wait for Case 4 because I need more answer's about Laurent and his motivations. Please feel free to comment about your own theories or thoughts.

[gucciwins]

Hate or Love

Harry and Y/N are stuck between two emotions, love and hate.

Word count: 5424

A/N: enemies to lovers, and yes there is a bit of smut. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

"What does the note from Harry say this time?"

Y/N doesn't have to turn around to know it's Dani who could not hold back her laughter. She turns her head to give her a stern look, ignoring the smile on her face. She turns her attention back to the folded sheet of paper addressed to Miss Cupcake. 

Y/N sighs. Her name is definitely not Miss Cupcake. Her neighbors know how to push her buttons. Hard. 

Asshole.

The door to her bakery swings wide open, and Sailor makes herself known. "Book club, ladies!" She yells. "I don't want to be late." Sailor stops right in front of them. Her eyes flicker to Dani's then Y/N's last to the note in Y/N's hands. A smile takes over her face.

"Stop. You both are too happy about these notes. It's ridiculous. May I remind you he's rude and very uptight." She slams the note down on the table. 

Dani gets up and makes sure to push her chair in to keep it nice and clean because she knows that's how Y/N likes the bakery. 

Dani and Sailor are wearing matching grins, and when together, they become a lot to handle. Dani is always the sweeter one, but not at this moment, she can melt the glare being sent to them both. Hand on her growing pregnancy belly and the other offered to Y/N. "Come on, let's see it." 

Y/N knows not to fight her and hands it right over. She knows that she loses all fights to her when she's cute and very pregnant. "Take it. It’s not even important."

"Sure, hun."

Sailor practically skips over to Dani as they huddle together to read the paper. Dani laughs before clearing her throat, obnoxiously. 

"Miss Cupcake-" She sends an amused look over to Y/N, and she rolls her eyes waiting for her to continue. "As I've mentioned in previous notes, I don't think your cat knows where it's home is. May you please get this under control, or I'll be forced to take action to fix this situation of ours. H" 

"That wasn't so bad. It's sweet." Y/N rolls her eyes, knowing it's hopeless. 

"Y/N, you should definitely go on a date with him. He's got a nice sense of humor. You agree right, Sail? If I didn't have Marco, I'd want a chance with him." 

Pregnancy makes Dani crazy. 

"Nope. You are both out of your mind." 

Dani waves the note as if the answer is right in front of her. "It's obvious he's only doing this to get you to talk to him. He wants to rile you up, which is obviously working."

"You can't really believe that. He hates me. And Alpine, obviously. He's the biggest sweetheart, he always comes home for a cuddle. I don't understand why he keeps going over there, I give him his favorite snacks, let him take over my pillows." Y/N sighs. 

Sailor taps her finger on her chin before pointing at Y/N. "He doesn't hate you."

She shakes her head in denial. "No, he does. He has from the moment he moved in."

Dani disagrees. "You almost hit him with a hockey stick when you first met him."

"Nope, you can't judge me for that. He started moving at four am. It was still dark, I got scared. My first thought, just like everyone else's, would be that someone broke in." She shakes her head at her friends. 

Sailor nods in agreement. "I think I would have hit him before he was able to get a word out. I understand your reaction."

Dani snorts at her. "Fair enough. I still think that you just got off on the wrong foot. He doesn't actually mind Alpine, but he does send you the notes because he can never use his balcony." She stops for a second before pointing her finger very close to your eye. "You're also partaken in the game."

"Me?" Y/N says in disbelief. "I'm an angel." 

"Yes, you. You're just going to ignore the catnip incident." Dani smirks

Heat rushes to Y/N's cheeks rather quickly. "Once. I did it once, and I was half sober." 

"Half sober?" Dani raises her eyebrows. 

"I don't get drunk, so yes, half sober." 

"I'm sure it was like two times, you called me after each time." 

Sailor throws Y/N a big grin. "Two times. You threw catnip on his balcony two times."

She shrugs. "Maybe I did, or maybe I didn't."

Sailor walks over and throws her arm over Y/N's shoulder, laughing. "Naughty, girl. You're bad, probably learned from me." 

The room fills with laughter at her comment, they calm down a moment after. Her face is still hot from her secret admission. 

Sailor's phone rings, and quickly after checking the screen, she nods as if answering the text. "As much as I want to know more, Abigail texted me. The girls are waiting for our arrival." 

Y/N lets out a slow breath of air. "Lead the way."

Dani leads the way, she looks back at Y/N over her shoulder. "Can't wait. Hot neighbor, here we come."

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

The first Thursday of the month. One of his favorite days, just like the third Thursday each month. It brings Harry lots of joy seeing his neighbor after each note. The color on her cheeks, stomping into the store as soon as she walks into the store. It's satisfying and sexy as hell.

Harry enjoys her sass and her beauty; their fun little game has allowed him to accept his new routine. He didn't expect to run a book/coffee shop. But he could never say no to his grandmother when she announced she was ready to retire. After losing his grandfather, she hasn't been the same. Gemma and Harry try their best to support her. He runs the shop, and Gemma visits as much as she can with her kids. He's lucky his mum runs the book store allowing him to focus on the rest. 

His grandmother never mentioned the book club of ladies that came included with the store. It's only two days a month, but it's nice. He enjoys having them there. Dot, Abigail, Margie, Sailor, Dani, and Y/N are the core of the group and a few others that attend sporadically. 

Y/N, his neighbor with her business next door and her apartment above and right next door, is Harry's favorite. She brings the delicious treats, everyone, raves about that she shares even though he knows it pains her. Bless her good manners. She's also a stunning woman. The most beautiful person he has ever seen. A true masterpiece. 

Harry walks over to the group, he stands directly behind where Y/N is sitting. "Good evening to you all." 

Harry knows all the other ladies have picked up on their flirty game. They caught on pretty quickly, everyone but her. Y/N's great, but how can someone so cute have no clue that he’s interested. Harry knows there has to be something there because she steals glances at him. 

"Would you all like your usual?" Harry's gaze moves across the group, catching everyone's collective yes's. "I'll get right on it." 

Harry walks out a big grin on his face. He's quick to finish their orders and bring them out. He heads back for the last two when he stops from entering the back room when he hears Y/N voicing her thoughts. 

"It seems unrealistic. No man will sweep you off your feet then kiss you breathless. Even less press you against a wall and kiss you until you forget your own name. The men we read about are fictional and hard to find if there are any left." 

Harry would love to kiss her, give her all the pleasure possible. He'd give it to her whenever she asked. 

The women are nodding along to her. Dani spots him standing there, and Harry has the sudden urge to go back to the station. She has a hard gaze set on him, and he feels like it's trouble waiting to happen. 

She smirks, her eyes not straying from Harry's "Oh, I believe there are men still out there. Don't you, Harry?"

Shit. 

Just as quickly, all eyes turn to me, and he plasters a grin on his face as he sets down the drinks for Dani and Sailor. He is quick to gather his thoughts, knowing they are waiting on him. "Yes, those men are out there. No one is perfect, but they are passionate and kind. The right partner brings out the best in you, all bets are off all is fair game for them both. Think it makes a relationship stronger and definitely spices up the bedroom."

Y/N mutters something under her breath that sounds like, "Okay, sure."

Harry is quick to look her way and catches her gaze. "Sorry, I missed that Y/N."

"What?" She questions back as her blush deepens, not breaking the stare. 

"You don't think that man is out there. You don't think a man can be passionate?" Harry wants her to see it in him. 

She shakes her head, causing loose hairs to fall out of her messy bun framing her face. He wants to reach out and brush it back. "No, they exist. I do believe they are out there. It's just incredibly rare, and most likely already taken. 

Harry nods, agreeing with her, as do. the ladies around her. "Could be that you aren't looking in the right places. Maybe," Harry pauses, looking her right in the eyes. "you aren't open to finding someone like that. or you're just picking the wrong ones." 

She leans back, and a look of hurt passing through her eyes, and Harry feels terrible. He didn't want to come across as an asshole, but that is precisely what happened. Hae's doing it all wrong. Harry hears the small chime of the door opening and takes that as his cue to leave. "Excuse me, ladies. Sorry to interrupt." 

Harry is happy to leave, unsure if he stayed there any longer he'd do something stupid like actually kiss Y/N. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Y/N is whisking the batter for cupcakes when her thoughts drift back to Harry. 

Maybe you aren't open to finding someone. 

Three days since the book club and his voice is stuck in her head on a loop, it drives her crazy. He hurt her, but maybe he's right. 

Or you're picking the wrong ones.

He doesn't know her, how can he be right. Y/N is going to drive herself crazy thinking about this. Maybe every guy she's met has been perfect, and she's the one who ruins it. Perhaps, she's meant to never be loved. She sets down the bowl and whisk and sighs. Love might not even be for her. 

"Looks like lots of fun being in here." 

Y/N jumps and turns around quickly to wipe her face of the tear that slipped down her face. That male voice is unfamiliar in her back room. Her heart continues to pound as her eyes meet bright green ones. 

She sees his eyes shift to her outfit before landing on her eyes. She knows they're puffy and red because she got little to no sleep last night. Harry's got a shining smile, and she currently doesn't want to deal with his remarks no matter how right or wrong. 

He looks good in a loose white t-shirt and mustard flared pants that compliment his thighs well. Y/N stops staring when she reaches his eyes once more and sees the smirk on his face with a hint of concern. Y/N can't believe she's attracted to Harry, hell she might like him. She looks behind Harry and sees the piping bags waiting to be filled with pink frosting. She'd like to lick it off Harry. Y/N takes a step back to shake his thoughts out of her head. 

"Did you need something, or was ruining my day the only thing you had on the agenda?"

"Harsh." His hand flies to his chest in mock. That feeling is quick to disappear, and it's replaced by what looks like concern or even worry. "I heard a noise when I came back from a small delivery thought I'd check it out. These close back doors come in handy."

"Well, all is good here. Your presence is not needed." Y/N shoots him a fake smile, hoping it'll get him out of here. She feels guilty, she might have been a little mean. She was never known to be mean, but she doesn't know what it is about him. 

There's so much to say to Harry, but she knows he won't even hear it. Harry probably doesn't even realize how the words stayed with me, especially after saying it in front of the other ladies. He's judged me just like everyone else has, and for once, they might be right.

Maybe the men she chose did suck. She hated having high expectations, but it's what her mother taught her to do. Allow yourself only the best love and not to stop until she finds it. Until now, she's still looking. Maybe, she should stop.

Harry takes a step inside, he's four steps away. He looks too good, and what she wants to do is say he was right about her. That she wants him to show her what she's been missing all along. Then he'll grab her by the waist, sit her on the table and kiss her senseless. 

Too bad, life isn't a romance novel. 

She turns back around, going back to whisking. "Your grandma's cupcakes will be ready soon. Brandon is going to box them up, take them over, and save you the trip. 

"Did I do something?" She hears him take a few more steps, meaning he's right behind her. "I can tell you're upset. I can help." 

Y/N grips the table, trying to keep her calm. "You just made me realize that I was the problem in all my past relationships. That I'm the problem, all those past guys were never good to me. That it's my fault I was—" She cuts herself off before sharing more than she intended. “It doesn't matter, I see your point."

She can't see Harry's reaction, but she knows he's shocked. She's waiting for him to say something.

"That wasn't what I meant when I said that," Harry says slowly as if she'd turn around to hit him. 

"Tell me what you meant then." She meant to say it softly, but it came out harsh. 

"Y/N, there is someone here for a cake and want to have a consult with you." A worker of hers peeks through the door. 

"I'll be right there, Tamara. Please have them wait for me in the consulting room." Y/N shoots her a smile, and she leaves. 

Y/N heads to the sink to wash her hands and then leaves through the door Tamara left through. All without another glance or word to Harry. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

It's nightfall, and Harry feels awful. If Harry didn't know why he was feeling so bad, he'd think he would have a heart attack. The way she broke down on him. Harry hurt her, he didn't mean to, but he did. He's the biggest idiot. Instead of having her fall in love, he made her hate him. 

Harry had just turned off the lights and headed to his room when he heard a knock on his door. He turns the hallway light on before heading to the door.

Y/N and Harry share the main door to get access to the apartments meaning someone has to buzz to get in, but since it's a knock. Harry knows it's her. He's never been more thankful to see her beautiful face. 

There she stands in all her beauty. Her hair is a mess atop her head, makeup-free face, and a pair of short cupcake pajamas. Very fitting for his nickname for her. Her stunning eyes stare into him, sparking and ready to attack. 

She lifts her hand to point the finger at him.

"I'm angry with you." 

Harry nods. "Okay."

"You started this downfall I fell in. I can't stop thinking about all the dating and pleasure. I don't like it, and I don't need it, you got it?" 

Her cheeks go red before her next words. 

"It's not my fault. I haven't been able to find a good guy. It's also not my fault; they didn't treat me well." 

"Okay."

"I know my worth, and you and your words aren't going to mess that up. I'll keep my standards high, and I'll keep respecting myself." 

"Okay." 

"Harry, you're driving me crazy. Stop saying okay."

"Ok—" He's cut off by her finger landing on my lips. Her touch sends chills down his body, and he honestly craves more. Harry wants to take that finger in his mouth, lick it, and suck it as he wants to do the rest of her body. 

A gasp leaves her mouth, and Harry swears must be having the same thoughts as him. It's sexy, and Harry only has so much self-control. Harry wants to take a step forward, wrap his hands around her hips to pull her close to finally feel his skin against hers. Six months, he's been waiting six months for the very moment he could make her his. 

She's quick to move her finger away. She doesn't know what to say, and for a moment, neither does Harry. Her eyes meet Harry's finally, and he sees the desire burning in her. He steps close, giving her a chance to stop him or tell him, no, but that small nod is all he needs. 

Y/N is in his arms, and her mouth is on his. They attack each other like they're starving. 

Harry wants her. He wants her forever. 

All his life was leading up to this very moment. She's letting him in, and he couldn't be more grateful. 

Wine and chocolate Harry tastes that on her tongue. 

Intoxicating 

She moans into his mouth and presses closer, his hands begin to wonder as do hers. Her fingers tightening in his hair. She's driving Harry crazy, igniting a fire deep inside him. His hands grab her ass tightly, needing her close. 

Y/N breaks the kiss, her breathing harsh and warm in my face. "More...Harry, I want... more." 

That's all Harry needs to drag her into his apartment, shutting the door. He presses her against the cool wood, all thoughts the only focus is bringing her the pleasure she deserves. She bites his lip, and Harry lets out a low moan. She gasps when she feels how hard he is against her, wrapping a leg around his hips to get them even closer. 

Harry groans, he bends a little to grab her other leg. "Hold on, baby."

She holds on tightly, her hands around my neck. Harry tries his best not to lose control, he doesn’t want to come in his pants. He would never recover from the embarrassment.

Y/N arches her back, and she exposes her beautiful throat to Harry. He doesn't think twice before attacking. Biting, sucking, licking. He gives it all to her. Her moans and whimpers allow him to keep going knowing that she is enjoying it. Harry has never been this hard in his life, he wants this forever. 

Harry feels her breast and looks down to see her nipples straining against her top's thin fabric. He tugs on one through the material, and Y/N writhes against me, rubbing herself desperately against him. Harry's just as desperate feeling the friction. 

Harry shifts her weight in his arms to move one of his hands between their bodies, finding her sensitive spot. He wants to see her come, he craves it. 

Harry returns his lips back to hers simultaneously, his fingers slip between her shorts and find the right spot. Harry's the one holding her, but Y/N's the one in control controlling our kiss and moving against his hand that is against her wet silk panties. 

Harry swallows every moan and whispers she lets out, it's all for him. She lets a loud moan against his lips then breathes out his name. Harry knows he's ruined forever after watching her come. 

Harry knew how amazing she was from the moment she almost hit him with a hockey stick while wearing her sunflower pajamas. He didn't expect her to change his entire life. 

He helps her come down her high as they both try to catch their breaths. As he set her down, he didn't pull away, keeping his hands on her waist and lips close by. Harry feels on fire, having her so close still. Harry brushes away the hair framed around her face, and he cups her cheeks, he's making sure he has her full attention. "Let's make one thing clear. Every single man you dated was an idiot. Any man and I mean any, would be lucky to have you." 

Y/N swallows. "Okay." 

He nods, "Okay?"

She nods her head up and down. "Okay, yes." 

Harry slips his hand in hers and brings it to his lips to kiss her soft hands. "Let's get some sleep." 

Harry leads the way with a smile on his face. As soon as they enter the room, he scoops in his arms and drops her gently in the bed, he climbs in the act. Once they are both comfortable, he drops the covers over them.

Harry hugs her tight. He's never been happier than he is right now with her in his arms. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

"Can you repeat that?" Sailor's and Julia's voice blasts from the phone speaker. Y/N's thankful they aren't there to witness her embarrassment. Her face feels on fire. 

"Uhh...I left. I walked right out." 

Silence fills the air of the apartment. 

Dani sighs. She knows it is Dani because she's dramatic and likes to really drag it out. As much as they tease her, they love her, and she loves them. 

 "Explain, please." 

Y/N takes a sip of her chamomile tea that always helps her relax, but that's not the case this time. "Well, you know what happened last night. I woke up a little freaked out in his arms. Not that it was bad, it was amazing. I panicked."

"Continue," Dani urges her on. 

“I gave him a wave and walked out." Y/N knows that's embarrassing and doesn't want to see Harry. 

Dani is the first to laugh then Sailor follows suit. 

Y/N lets out a little laugh because it was funny, not her proudest moment. 

"Harry seems like an understanding person. Talk to him." Sailor suggested, all while still laughing. "Please stop embarrassing yourself."

The doorbell rings before she gets a chance to answer. "I've got to go. My pizza has arrived. Thanks for listening." 

The girls say their goodbyes and hang up. Y/N stands to go check the intercom but is only greeted by silence, she slips her shoes on to go check downstairs. Instead, she opens the door, Harry stands in front of it with her pizza in hand. The smile he gives her is one she hasn't seen before, but she'll be craving to see more. His dimples in full display, his eyes crinkle in a way she's never noticed before. She likes it—a lot.

"Hi." She glances down, and she's suddenly reminded of the clothes she threw on after her shower. Not her cutest top and shorts. Definitely, nothing impressive. 

Her nerves lessen when she catches his eyes roaming her body. She sees the lust in his eyes, the desire growing as he reaches her face. She wants to kiss him, but that's not the smartest move. "Is that my pizza?" She points to the box in his hands.

He nods and lets out a small laugh, "Yeah. I saw the delivery guy and thought I might convince you to share it with me." 

"Oh." 

"What do you say?" 

"Well, what do you have to offer? I'm not keen on sharing my pizza." She raises an eyebrow at him. The playful banter is back, but now the butterflies in her stomach are in full attack. 

Harry moves the pizza box to his side, allowing him to step forward. 

"Because—" He captures her lips with his. "I know," his lips brush along her jaw, "how to repay you." He sucks gently on her neck, a shiver running through her body. 

She knows exactly what he's referring to, and she's more than happy to accept. He pulls back and has a smirk on his face remembering the effect he has on her. Y/N bites her lip, allowing Harry to think she's thinking it over when his hand connects with her butt in response. He then squeezes, having her lean forward and fall against his chest. 

"I want all of you." She feels his chest rising faster, having her so close. "Please, no more running, Miss Cupcake." 

Y/N takes a breath to try her best to get herself under control, but she can't because all she smells is him. He smells like home. The smell of coffee and sugar mixing perfectly together. 

"Sorry, Harry. Last night was really amazing, but it just got to be too much in the morning. I mean, you know I've never done any of that." She pauses for a moment, mind-spinning because they do know a lot about each other. Life kept pushing them together. "And…I wasn't sure if it was a one-time thing or—"

His lips are on hers, his tongue urgently demanding entry, all words completely gone. A thud is heard, and the next second Y/N is in his arms, and she never wants to leave. His hands are in her hair, she moans the only noise filling the quiet apartment. 

Y/N pulls him closer by his shirt. She feels Harry flex as her skin touches him. Alpine lets out a cry from the chair he's sleeping on, pulling them out of the moment. 

Harry clears his throat, and she knows he's as messed up as her. She's trying her best to get her thoughts in order. "Would you like to come in?" 

Harry's eyes go wide, shining bright. "You're willing to share your pizza with me?"

"On the condition that you behave." Y/N laughs at his shock expression as if he could not be on his best behavior for her. 

Harry picks up the pizza box from when he dropped it. "Not fair, especially when you tempt me looking like that." 

"This turns you on." Y/N is surprised, closing the door as Harry makes his way to her couch. 

"Oh, baby. You're stunning. You make me lose my mind every time." 

She's blushing. Harry really likes her, she didn't expect that confession. She had gone most of her life not liking her body or looks, but over time she's come to love who she is. It was not easy, and there are still bad days, but having Harry tell her this makes her feel special. 

"Harry, have you liked me the entire time?" 

Harry's grin is sheepish. He holds his hand out, and she grabs it without a second thought. "Yes. God, yes, how could I not. I watched you go on a date with those idiots, giving you the time you needed to figure out what was right in front of you." He kisses her knuckles before he raises his head, allowing her to see his smirk. "Enjoying our game."

"Harry" It's all she manages to get out. 

"Don't gotta say anything. I'm all in." He tugs on her hand, having her land on his lap. "Don't think I'm ever letting you go again."

Y/N loves the sound of that. She doesn't know why Harry thinks all of this about her, but she's all in. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Eight Months

"Honey?" 

Harry can't help the grin that takes over his face when he hears Y/N call him that. It'll never get old. 

"Yes, what do you need?" He's wrapping the towel around his waist, coming out of the bathroom. 

"Bedroom, please." 

She is quick to look over her shoulder as Harry walks in. He sees her eyes lingering on his butterfly tattoo, her favorite he's come to learn. Harry loves it when she looks at him, he sees all the love she has for him.

Y/N is holding something, and as he steps closer, he is quick to recognize it. He cracks a smile. He doesn't bother keeping in his laughter. 

"I did not remember that was there." 

"Harry, please tell me why you have catnip hidden behind a Spice Girls ‘SpiceWorld’ hoodie?" She lowers the catnip and slowly closes the distance between them. 

He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. "All I wanted was sweet Alpine to be my friend." 

She shakes her head. "You're telling me that you put catnip on your balcony so he'd come over?"

Harry nods. Of course, he did; it was his most excellent idea. "Yes." 

"So did I." She whispers. 

Harry's eyes go wide. "You did?" He pulls her against him, causing her to let out a small shriek. "Do you have to be so perfect and crazy?"

"Just for you, Honey." She leans in close, breaths mixing together. "Two big reasons you love me." 

Harry nods. "Two of the million reasons." 

He reaches for her shirt and slips it off relatively easy. "Will you let me show you other reasons with my mouth, and my tongue and. . ." He cuts off as he grinds into her. His hands gently cupping her breasts. He drops his head and licks a path down her throat.

A sexy moan leaves her lips. "This is going to be quick, you in these black leggings always drive me crazy." He kisses your neck, and he guides you to the bed. 

Harry slides his hand down her leggings, and just as he was suspecting she's soaking wet. She's ready for him. He's quick to take them off, making sure there's no tear before letting his towel drop. 

Harry sinks in one swift move, making them moan in unison. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good." 

His thrusts are fast and hard, never slowing down. Harry can tell she's close when she begins to fist the bed. He leans down close, missing the feel of her lips against his. "Come for me, baby." He goes a few more, not slowing down, he feels her walls tightening.

"Harry!" She moans, just as her high hits. Harry is quick to follow, her expressions always helping him find his release. 

Harry falls against the bed pulling Y/N to lay on top of him. He wants her close, he always does. 

"I love you." He locks eyes with her wanting to see them sparkle.

The sweet smile she gives Harry is his favorite. "I love you."

Harry sits up against the headboard bringing Y/N closer to his chest. He begins to look around his almost empty room. The idea to turn their apartments into one was brilliant, but it has been a lot of work. Harry isn't fond of getting rid of items in his closet, which is why Y/N was there earlier.

"Are you happy, Harry?" Y/N asks as she traces a sparrow on his chest. It's soothing. 

He brings his hand down to her cheek, and he lifts her face gently to have her look at him. "Never been happier." She leans in to kiss him but doesn't allow him to deepen in. "Are you?" 

"Very." She kisses his dimples and settles back on his chest, continuing with what she was doing. 

At this moment, Harry knows he's never been happier, and they has a lifetime of happiness waiting for them.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Thank you for reading. I love you

Please come by and talk to me about what you thought of Hate or Love 

[lifeinpelicantown]

Stardew Valley Preference: What They First Noticed About You (Bachelorette Edition)

Abigail

Abigail often felt out of place in Pelican Town, wishing only to spread her wings and fly far, far from the coop. So when a new Farmer came to town, she couldn’t imagine why anyone would leave their previous life to live in a place like Pelican Town. But when Abigail met you, she was immediately struck by your free spirit. You lived life in search not of wealth or popularity, but for adventure, serenity, and contentment - something Abigail related to strongly.

Emily

Emily first noticed your loving and compassionate nature, and noticed it everywhere. You always remembered everyone’s birthdays, and their favourite gifts. You took the time to talk to Jas and Vincent, whom many people disregarded due to their age. You took on a stray dog/cat on your farm, and took the time to care for each of your farm animals. Emily had never seen such compassion, and it inspired her to continue to spread love in her own little way.

Haley

It was always easy for Haley to get wrapped up in appearances and her immediate judgements of things, especially when a new Farmer came to town. The idea of working in the soil and dirt all day was laughable to her. But despite her tendency to not think past her own head, Haley noticed your joy in the little things. Watching you enjoy the peace of Pelican Town and your humble work on the farm, Haley began quickly reconsidering her views on the world. It inspired her to let loose, and be present in each moment. Your impact on her world gave her butterflies whenever she saw you.

Leah

Leah first was struck by your openness and your honesty. Leah knew that her art wasn’t for everyone, as it was often open to interpretation. Many people disregarded her profession, but she immediately noticed your thoughtful expression and attentive questions. She was honoured to have someone finally be open enough to appreciate her work.

Maru

Maru was always fun, easygoing, and easy to get along with, so the idea of a new Farmer moving into town posed no threat. However, when Maru met you, she immediately recognized the gleam of  curiosity in your eye. It was fairly common for the other townsfolk to be lost or uninterested in her tinkerings and projects, but with you, she always saw your genuine interest and curiosity.

Penny

Penny always tried to stay positive in life, immersing herself in tutoring and stories to escape the realities of her life. Despite her friendships with the other townsfolk, she felt crushed beneath the weight of her troubles, unable to release them and talk to someone who would listen. But when you moved to Pelican Town, Penny found in you the kind, non-judgemental listener she always needed. You were attentive, clearly listening closely to her words, and always following up with words of encouragement, advice, and thoughtful questions. In you, Penny found the safety and solace she desperately needed, and took refuge in your ability to listen.

[nightklok]

Who made the first move?/Who is more sentimental? - Chickles Which member is always trying to bring home stray animals and which member always has to say no? -Picklegail

Assorted OTP questions

Chickles

Who made the first move?

Pickles; I have so many scenarios for how they met but they usually end up with Pickles making the move! Whether because young charlie is starstruck at the sight of his idol or businessman who 'wants' to remain things professional for the sake of their careers-either way it all ends with Charles letting his guard down and accepting that Pickles does want to be with him and doesn’t care about the risks, he just wants to be with him!!

Who is more sentimental?

Charles is surprisingly.

There's gonna be periods where they have to be apart for a while, though it was much longer back in the Snb/Pre-klok days. They would have to make do with what they could at the time which was phone calls and letters; and Charles strikes me as the kind of guy to always have a pen and paper with him by his phone just in case there's any important meetings or business calls and he needs to take notes. Whenever Pickles calls him though, it's gotta be nearly pages and pages notes worth of things they talked about, dated, timed and properly organized in a box with the letters Pickles had sent him.

Now in the dethklok days, letters and such aren't needed because they see each other more frequently but that doesn't mean Charles will not jump on the chance to at least send him a letter when he's away on a business trip.

"But we can just call, video call even!" Pickles might say but he'll still fall for those letters like the first time he saw them and has hidden a good majority of them as well (Though sadly some letters did get lost as he was touring a lot back in the day, though they will occasionally show up on an ebay auction and pickles has to begrudingly bid to get the letters back-)

Picklegail

Which member is always trying to bring home stray animals and which member always has to say no?

I can really see this going both ways:

Pickles finding animals on the side of the road and wanting to take it home but Abigail only saying no because, “...that’s a king cobra how are you still alive”

Or Abigail driving home late from work, finding an injured dog or cat and she just has to take it home for the night and then in the morning she'll bring it to the vet and eventually shelter so it can get adopted, and all while Pickles mentions probably once they're gonna get attached by the time the vet office opens, but they're already attached so guess it's just one more dog to the pile

I feel like pickles has a fuck ton of dumb luck when it comes to animals and that mostly stems from his lack of knowledge of animals other than ‘that’s cute I want to pet it”. And because of the fact he’s so chill with it and probably some godklok powers alongside, the animals are pretty tame to him and she probably would have the same experience with those animals though she never dared tested it out.

I think he accidentally took home an injured rattlesnake at a point because “just found it lyin’ on a road, makes this cool sound with its tail! I might use it for our next album"

[unholyhelbig]

The Scent of Fire | #HW202

Prompt: Unusual Familiars 

Summary: When the witch trials hit the small town that Chloe Beale calls home, she turns to the only person she can think of; Her Familiar. 

Read it on Ao3 here! 

The scent of fire nipped at her lungs until they burned. Chloe swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth and stared at the cracked wooden floor. Some of it reflected the ash tracked by Father Aspen’s shoes. She tried to ignore the way they looked like faces screaming for the very mercy he preached about each Wednesday and again on Sunday before the sun had even risen to its highest point.

This fire smelled different.

Her mother pressed the only silk handkerchief she had against her lips to stifle what they were all too afraid to mention. It was her nice one, the royal blue one that had their family monogram stitched into the side. Her father brought it home from the city. He brought Chloe a snow globe that sat next to the oil lamp on her school desk.

Chloe wished she had one of her own, that she didn’t have to pretend she couldn’t smell it. The rest of the church sat in an odd silence while Father Aspen wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He smeared ash on his beaded skin.

She moved her own hand against the base of her nose but felt her mother’s razor-sharp nails dig into her thigh. He was scanning the crowd, clutching the podium. Chloe struggled to ignore the strangled sobbing of the woman in the front pew and the half-hearted attempt of her husband to quell it.

“Revelations 21:8 ” Father Aspen had breathed in too much smoke, his voice was gravelly “as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

The mother in the front row screamed out again, her cries muffled in pain. Chloe grimaced and turned her face to the side. Her own mother didn’t condemn her this time. Father Aspen was panting with exhaustion and a few around the room spurred his dark smile on.

“This town has been in the unknowing presence of Evil for far too long!” He shouted, calming the room “Miss Prescott is a clear example of what we do to the unholy in Barden. Let it be a warning to clear the filth from our streets and stir the rebellion from our children. Let it be a warning.”

Chloe dug the blade of the knife into the soft skin of the third potato that she had pulled from hard soil. The winter season was upon them, and her stomach clenched at the idea of a quality meal. It would be the last of the year.

It was just the two of them when her father traveled for work. Her mother had quickly closed the door to his study as they returned from church. She was penning him a letter now, she guessed, despite not much ink being left in the little vile. Barden had had its first real witch burning, and that was big news. It wouldn’t be long before it’s second.

“You could have done something to stop this,” She mumbled softly, taking a good chunk of hard skin away from the yellowed vegetable. “Isn’t that your job?”

She had felt the woman’s presence in the church, just beyond the stained windows as smoke coated the air. That scent of burnt flesh wicking into her Sunday clothes. Her familiar lurked and watched and worried like the rest of them.

Chloe heard her scoff “Puritan panic is nothing short of entertaining. Though, what happened to Abby is tragic. Your priest wants to make an example and he would have done it regardless.”

“What comes next?”

“The same thing that happened in Salem, I suppose. They’ll string them up like Christmas bulbs on a Douglas Fir.”

Chloe dropped the knife and let it clank against the cutting board loudly before turning quickly to face her familiar. She sat in one of the kitchen chairs, slumped back on its hind legs with her own feet crossed at the ankles. Beca had a smug look on her face. Chloe would have thrown the kitchen utensil if the demon wouldn’t find it amusing.

“Careful, Chloe, if your mother senses you slipping into madness, she’ll turn to her religion for help.”

She ignored the comment. “What if it’s I they make an example of next?”

She scrunched up her nose as if she were thinking, but perhaps she hadn’t been at all. “Tragic.”

Chloe Beale didn’t mean to fall into witchcraft, just as Abby Prescott hadn’t. A group of them gathered in the graveyard one night, the only one in town. Aubrey Posen had raided her father's stuff and found a book that none of them wanted to touch- but they had. After a few slices of the palm and magic words, they had fallen deep into a habit.

A rush of dark magic made Chloe feel alive. So she read on, she receipted more incantations by the light of oil and the cover of darkness. She had reached the back of Aubrey’s book and ended up with Beca.

“You were supposed to be of some use to me,” She growled under worn breath. “I haven’t yet called on you.”

“No take backs, I’m afraid. A demon can sense chaos from millenniums away. I knew that you needed help.”

“You fed off of the fear.”

“oh, that’s cruel. Maybe I genuinely want to help you, Chloe.” She said “Lay off the witchcraft for a while. I know the feeling of dark magic is intoxicating but if it cooks you like dear Abby then is it worth it?”

“I’ve thought of that.”

“And the verdict?”

Chloe ran her dirt-stained palms against her apron. “I can use it to my advantage instead.”

Beca let out a loud groan and placed all four legs of the chair back onto the dusty floor. The young girl in turn picked up her knife once more and made even cubes of the vegetable before dropping them into the broth that boiled above a lit fire. Witchcraft was no different from cooking- maybe with more consequences than a full stomach.

She heard the floor creak behind her and felt Beca’s hot touch on her hip. Her fingers burned hungrily through her cotton dress and apron. Chloe stopped her task and made her stance rigid. She focused on the iron pot hanging from a little hook on the wall. Her hand clenched the knife.

“Chloe, I am your familiar, whether you like it or not. Though I am here to serve you and patronize you, I ultimately have a say in your actions. After all, we share the same master.”

“I serve no one.”

Beca scoffed and withdrew her touch. It made Chloe turn once more. This time she was mere inches from her familiar. Her features were cat-like, long, and slim. Her eyes dawned the same brightness of a black feline wandering around the barn on the edge of their property. She hadn’t thought of the connection until now.

Beca smelled of ash. Not the same thickness as the particles from this morning before the service, but ash all the same. “Before my God, you served the one you worship every Sunday. That, we both know. The second you spoke those words in the land of the dead, you were bound.”

Beca placed her molten touch under Chloe’s chin, leading the girl's eyes up to hers. Her palms dug deep into the counter behind her and breath caught as if to fight off the scent of fire and old magic.

“Love, I am here to assist you in your ultimate immortality. You’re my master in this battle, but not in this raging war. In order for you to lead, you must not be burned at the stake. Do not abandon your practice or your patience, but don’t feed into it. Not for the next month.”

Chloe swallowed hard “And what of Aubrey?”

“Aubrey is not of my concern. The girl does seem intelligent enough to do the same. Neither of you shall speak of this. Abby was a great loss.” Beca moved her hand away and Chloe cleared her throat. She missed the touch sorely but turned back to her task, mind reeling.

She had moved on to peel another potato. She knew her skin was raw and angry where Beca's hand was. Her fingers trembled, wishing to soothe the ache. The door to her father’s study creaked open and she heard her mother’s footsteps. They stopped near the kitchen. There was a dark and labored silence.

“Chloe,” her mother croaked. She had been crying, her voice was scratchy. “Who were you speaking with?”

“No one, mother”

“I heard you speaking to someone.”

Her voice was accusatory, and more importantly, whatever cracks the ordeal had left this morning were filled abundantly with fear. Chloe lifted her stormy eyes from the task of a solid meal once more and focused her entire body on stilling her breath and her words.

Chloe let out a sharp sigh “I was receipting scripture, mama. The Prescott’s have been a part of this community for a long time. I was quite close with Abigail and I” She forced her voice to shatter like a mirror “I hope she’s found peace despite straying from the house of the Lord.”

Her mother scrutinized her for a long moment but seemed to believe the words eventually. Chloe grasped a ladle and spooned some of the mixture into two bowls. She placed them each on the table before purposely sitting in the chair that Beca had been. It was still warm.

After long moments of silence, she started shoveling spoonful’s of the stew into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully as if to avoid any type of conversation.

She felt the hasty touch of a long black tail curling around her ankles. Her lungs still hissed with the scent of burning flesh, and an even hotter touch.

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Also Romione with their grandbabies

As always, in birth order:

Hermes Hugo Malfoy:

He’s the oldest

He is very close to all four of his grandparents, but especially his Nana Hermione and Grandad Ron!!

He reminds them soooo much of Hugo when he was little and it’s so cute

Hermione likes to play with him, and it’s just such a fun and stress free time

Ron likes to read to him, usually whatever Auror novel he’s currently reading or the Quidditch section of the Prophet

Ron also teaches him chess, but Hermes is quite bad at it

When he gets older, they buy him his first broom and take him to his first Quidditch game

The Chudley Cannons lose, and Hermione knits the whole time, and Hermes fell asleep in the last half hour of the game

But he will always say that was the best game he had ever gone too

They come to all of his Little League Quidditch games and cheer him on!

They also eagerly await his letters from Hogwarts after games and always go to watch him play in the school finals

When he starts writing, they keep every clipping they can

Athena Hermione Malfoy:

She is a mini Hermione and Ron is so in love with her!!

He helps teach her her letters when she’s two and they also like to cook together

He teaches her how to play chess, and she’s good, but still not a match for Ron

Hermione is her favorite person in the whole world!!

She wants to be her when she grows up and never strays to hard from that

Hermione will take her along to work with her just as she used to do with Hugo and Rose

She listens so much and just is in awe with how easily Hermione shuts downs her emotions and speaks to the court

Probably a little too much as she starts to bottle in her emotions to seem calm

She accepts an internship her final year of school to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with Hermione , and then finds out she’s pregnant

Benjamin is the one to tell her that she doesn’t need to give up her dreams to raise Olivia (and the rest of their kids when they have them), he is more than happy to be a stay-at-home father

He reminds her that his job is a lot more flexible than her dreams

And she goes to the Ministry in full force and doesn’t slow down (even if her colleagues make comments about her frequent pregnancies and the time it takes her away from the Ministry)

Hermione is so proud of her when Athena becomes head of the legal team!!

Hephaestus Ronald Malfoy:

This boy loves his cuddles, his Grandad Ron, and being the smartest person in the room

Hermione adores him because of this

He will find Ron in any room and just sit on his lap and refuse to leave

Ron will refuse to give him up

Also he finally has a match in his grandchildren when it comes to chess

Ron, Hugo, and Hephaestus will play together and it’s always a real challenge

(Athena and Hephaestus will always find each other to play a game whenever it’s raining, even at Hogwarts)

He picks up football like Hugo, and even though he doesn’t know the rules still, Ron is there every week to cheer him on

So is Hermione, patiently ready to explain the rules again

Hephaestus doesn’t write home often, but he does write to Ron and Hermione every week

Hephaestus being a Slytherin is a bit hard for him to take in at first, but then he gets Hephaestus’ next letter and it’s addressed just to him, and asking him all of these questions about the war and Ron realizes that this little boy is going to hear a lot of things that might not be true and it’s his responsibility to make sure that he’s educated and safe and okay

Green and silver are just colors, his grandson needs him

Artemis Astoria Malfoy:

She’s so shy and introverted that it takes her a while to open up

But once she knows someone, once she loves someone, there is no going back

Ugh, they love this little girl so much!!

Afternoons making a mess in the kitchen with Ron because she doesn’t like the violence of chess?? Hell yes!

Mornings curled up in Hermione’s lap listening to Hermione reread her unicorn book while teaching her to knit?? Hell yes!

Playing with Crookshanks in the sunlight and feeling like a giant cat herself while her grandparents watched after her?? Hell yes!

Her favorite day of the week is Tuesday, because that is her day at nana and grandad’s house and that never changes

Even when she starts at primary, she’s allowed to floo by herself to see nana and grandad on Tuesday, daddy will pick her up before bedtime

Her first Tuesday at Hogwarts she cries herself to sleep because it just doesn’t feel right

So on Tuesdays she starts to write to them

She had three daughters, Abigail Hermione, Allyson Ronda, and Anna-Maria BillieJean

She just loves the quiet and alone time they gave her, and the life skills they instilled in her

Apollo Draco Malfoy:

If Artemis is the quiet introvert he is the loud extrovert

He gets taken to the Ministry with them

He likes the Auror offices because it’s always exciting and he has a ready audience

On Fridays he floos to the Ministry and goes to the Auror offices

Seeing pictures of body parts and the other things that happen to bodies is what gets him interested in healing

After starting at Hogwarts, he comes back a bit more subdue and pulls back a bit from everyone

Hermione is really worried and brings him to court and it sounds ridiculous, but it’s the first time he sees a performance that actually sways people’s emotions

Hermione is the first person to find out that he’s bisexual and how hard it was for him to keep it inside

But Ron is the one who gives him the confidence to come out to his family!

Friday’s go back to normal after that

Aphrodite Lyla Malfoy:

She is such a baby, and loves it when Ron and Hermione treat her that way

She spends a lot of time with them doing errnings and going to the Ministry and just being passed off between the two

She’s very witty and shares Ron’s sense of humor, they are very kindred spirits

But she is also very close to her other grandparents and doesn’t understand how her Grandad Ron and Grandpa Draco can’t get along because she loves them both sooo much

She’s a lot like both of them, cunning and funny and a bit of a flare for dramatics and very loyal to the people she loves

Like her Uncle Hugo, she loves to hide under Hermione’s desk and listen to all the conversations that happen above her

Hermione teaches her to knit and she loves it, she always wants to be doing something with her hands and creating something

One year she makes everyone hats and Ron finds it hilarious and Hermione is so proud of her

While Ron got the letter about the war from Hephaestus, Hermione got one from Aphrodite, and she didn’t realize how uneducated a lot of children are about the war going into Hogwarts

It inspires her to write a book, and Aphrodite helps her by doing the illustrations

It’s the first time that she ever felt confident in her art

Years later, Aphrodite recreate their wedding portrait for their anniversary

Evan Perseus Weasley-Zabini:

Finally a baby from Hugo and Lyla!! They had been waiting over ten years! (They honestly expected Hugo to have a baby before Rose)

He’s almost exactly a year younger than Aphrodite and she doesn’t understand that she isn’t the baby anymore

But she adores this little boy

Okay, so Ron and Hermione are so excited for Hugo and Lyla to just have this little boy!! They can’t believe that they’re grandparents again so quickly

Because Hugo is more in touch with their Latin roots, Hermione is Abeula to his kids

It does cause a bit of confusion to Aphrodite so she calls her both nana and Abeula

Evan is just soooo much like Hugo! If Hermes was like Hugo, then Evan is Hugo

Ron is the one to realize that Evan has dyslexia like him and Hugo

He works really hard with Evan to teach him how to read, using the same therapies that he learned with Hugo

Because Evan doesn’t also have ADHD it’s a little easier

Ron and Hermione help out a lot when Lyla gets pregnant again, as it’s harder on her and Hugo than they expected

He likes the Auror offices, but loves the courtrooms and the drama of it all

When he’s about eight and Lyla gets pregnant again, they find out he has anxiety and he refuses to talk to anyone except Ron and Lyla about it

When Evan’s about to go to Hogwarts, he’s really anxious but Ron has gotten good at pep talks

He reminds him that he and Hermione will always be there for him and so will his parents

He writes often to Ron and Hermione and it’s really good for his anxiety

He graduates top of his class and Ron and Hermione are so proud of him!

Hector Draco Weasley-Zabini:

He’s very quiet and studious and holds himself to a very high standard

But because Ron and Hermione have zero expectations for him (other than to be happy) he gets to just be goofy and weird and a kid

He will always be the little five year old boy who was worried about his mummy being sick and how to be a big brother to a little sister

Ron teaches him chess and it’s like a duck to water, he is sooo good that Hugo stops playing with him and only Ron will play with him

(Hugo just knows that he doesn’t challenge him like Ron does)

Hermione reads to him and helps him with his homework and always brings him along to the Ministry with her

Hector and Athena have the same dreams and are very similar, and both look up to Hermione soooo much

Ron and Hermione are the first people he comes out to when he’s twelve, and he’s just happy that they accept him for who he is

When Hector’s older he takes an internship and learns how to sway the court to his favor

Hermione is the one to introduce him to his future husband and they name their first daughter after her, Hermione Atalanta

Roslyn “Ro” Psyche Weasley-Zabini:

Now this is who Aphrodite is jealous of, even if there is a nine year age difference between them

But Roslyn or “Ro” adores her older cousin

Ro is so cute and loves her Abeula and grandad so much!

Ron and her play in the kitchen and bake and try new recipes with each other

Hermione teaches her to knit and they always do the Sunday morning crossword together

She is so smart, but so distracted all the time

She likes to write and she creates little stories with cute little illustrations for everyone

Hermione gives her a diary for her birthday the year before she starts at Hogwarts, and Ro isn’t much for it until she’s at school

When she starts dating, she asks Hermione for some advice and it’s a little awkward, but so is Ro so it works out

Her boyfriend is also a writer, but he’s more interested in writing about Quidditch

For graduation Ron and Hermione take all of the little stories and illustrations she made them and get them bound into a book

It inspires Ro and she starts writing children’s books with her on illustrations and she dedicates the first one published to Ron and Hermione

She names her only son after Ron and her first daughter after Hermione, Ronald Asher and Arianna Jean

Christopher Odysseus “Odie” Weasley-Zabini:

The absolute baby of the family

Athena has three kids herself and Hephaestus is about to have his first son when Odie’s born

Hector gave him his nickname the day he was born (Evan gave Ro her nickname)

He is such a sweet baby and adores his grandparents

It makes Ron and Hermione feel better about being great-grandparents by still having such a young grandson

He’s totted along everywhere with whoever has him

He loves both Quidditch and football and plays both, Ron and Hermione support him at all of his games

He has ADHD and while Ron and Hermione aren’t as young as they used to be, they do have a lot of fun with him

He won’t be a chess champion, but Ron doesn’t feel bad letting him win a few games

It does surprise him the one time he wasn’t going easy and Odie beat him with no trouble

Hermione takes Odie with her to the library as she used to with Hugo and they have so much fun together

Odie reads like crazy and anything he can get his hands on

When he’s older and at school he makes sure to write to Ron and Hermione, he always talks about Quidditch and what he’s reading and never much about his classes or friends

He struggles with deciding what he wants to do after graduating from Hogwarts and just goes from job to job before he meets Ellie

A Junior Auror who’s funny and kind and seems to get into a little too much trouble for her own good

They’re married with a baby on the way less than a year later, and Odie is starting his training

Their daughter is named Billie Jean in honor of Ron and Hermione

[doomsayings]

@corneliushickey

will finds a kitten, brings her home, and is surprised to find that hannibal is the one most invested in getting the dogs used to her

i've always thought that hannibal would be really apt at dog training because he comes from old European money and MUST have grown up with hunting dogs

I think will's canine husbandry is one of the things that hannibal was attracted to from the outset

but Will is still the dog enthusiast of the two, so as much as Hannibal is involved in their day to day lives, they are still "Will's dogs" within the context of them being "our dogs"

But there is undeniably something of Abigail in this most recent stray, and Hannibal cannot deny himself the opportunity to bring that particular tea cup back together once more

YEESS......YES we have def discussed hannibals past with hunting dogs (and this is reminding me that it should be included in post-fall fic ?!?!) i feel like there would be an immediate appeal to hannibal in like. the strength and elegance of hunting dogs you know...in a way i think this is also what he would like about cats too! little elegant hunters!

@daemons

the mental image of hannibal waking up with a tiny kitten nestled in the crook of his neck even tho he is adamant about no animals in the bed + coupled w/ roach’s response has me burying myself alive wwwwWAAHHHHH

LITERALLY THE COMBINATION OF THIS IMAGE PLUS ROACH MAKING THE ABIGAIL STRAY COMPARISON......I AM PASSING AWAY NOW....I am getting extremely attached to the idea of Hannibal having a very close and inexplicable relationship with a little cat. they just Get each other you know I feel like cats always pick a fave and I think it would blow wills mind the way they take to each other.... their shared slow blink + fancy treats love language

[lunanightingaleart]

Quite The Unexpected Outcome

Synopsis: Through the night Agent Abigail Lynn will begin to discover a few things she had theorized about the Demigod prior. Are any of them correct, and just how accurate are they? Perhaps the Demigod could learn a few things about said agent as well? A sleepless night of questions, conversations, and snacks, all while waiting dreading for the upcoming day when the Avenger’s will make their final decision of Loki’s Fate.

Chapter 2: What Happens During Night Watch, Stays There

Start At Chapter 1

~~~~

“Abigail...”

“Hey Loki…” Abigail placed the bag down next to a chair placed in front of his cell. This time there was a small couch for him to sit, but it seemed pretty much unused. Sitting down, she leaned back and crossed her arms while staring up at the god. 

“...Well, that looks like it hurts.” He seemed to snarl, straightening his posture in an attempt to hide the pain and aches of his body. 

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“You saying it doesn’t hurt?”

“Perhaps not as much as you’d like.” She watched him speak, chewing her bottom lip in thought.

“...I don’t want you to be in pain.” The room fell into silence. The guy may have been the reason for a lot of damage done to her city, but weirdly enough she still didn’t want to see him in pain. This would be what her parents call the weak side of her. The compassion they wanted to crush from her. According to them; Agents Don’t, Nor Should, Have Compassion. After some time she reached in the bag, the crinkling of the bag breaking the silence quite aggressively. 

“Have you gotten anything to drink since our last meeting?” His eyes glanced towards her, flicking between the bottle in her hand and her. 

“Do you honestly think they would? Quite naïve of you to even assume-” He cut himself short seeing her stand, retracting just the slightest when she came all the way to the glass. Abigail pressed a button, the smallest window slot appearing in the glass before sliding to the side. She put the butt end of the bottle into the small rectangle. Loki just stared between her and the bottle. 

“I’m sure you must be dehydrated. Even gods have to drink, right?” He glared at her for a moment, before putting on a smirk. 

“What makes you think I won’t harm you? Underestimating me again, are we~?” She lifted her other hand, revealing the taser set to its highest settings.

“I noted the last time Thor was here even gods don’t particularly enjoy being electrocuted. That and what reason would you have to try and escape right now? You’re still obviously injured from Hulk, and your brother is still on Earth.” She pocketed her taser. 

“Besides, I really don’t want to have to tase you. I’m choosing to trust you and I can have a civil conversation.” He let out a scoff, staring her down.

“Is that so?” She stared into his eyes, taking note of the color.

“....So are you going to take this water or not? My arm is getting tired.” He seemed to think, slowly moving his hand to take the bottle. The still cold bottle touched his fingertips before he took it from her grasp. She gave him a smile before going back to her seat. 

“I also have a sandwich for dinner, if you want something to eat.” He froze mid step back to his seat. 

“...You won’t get anything from me…”

“I know, I’m not here for that.”

“Then just What are you here for? To watch over me? Like some Ill-behaved Child!?” Turning back towards her he squeezed the bottle in frustration. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong you’re a criminal. A powerful one too, otherwise we wouldn’t have agents watching this place 24/7.” He seemed to relax.

“So that’s the catch, your boss expects me to be caught off guard by your presence. Just as that Agent Romanoff did? Well you won’t get anything, sorry to disappoint you, Agent Abigail Lynn.” She watched him head to his seat and sit down, placing the bottle on the ground and crossing his leg over the other, arms crossed over his chest. He reminded her of a cat for some reason. One of those stray cats that is unable to trust due to previous bad experiences with others. She looked down at her sandwich, before pulling it out. Glancing up she noticed he wasn’t looking in her direction anymore. She split the sandwich and wrapped the other half up back in the bag. Standing back up she slid the back through the hole, watching it hit the ground and roll a bit. The sound caught Loki’s attention, his eyes watching the bag roll on the floor towards him. She then went back to her seat, taking a bite of the sandwich. 

“If there’s something on it you don’t like just pick it off. You don’t deserve to starve while confined in a small cell. Especially if you haven’t had anything to eat or drink in days. Call me naïve all you want, my offer still stands.” 

She continued to eat without much of a glance towards him. The only thing breaking the silence for a while was her chewing. Her stomach felt grateful for Steve offering to buy her food. Then at least she could eat without reporting it to her parents. Something like this would piss them off royally, Too many carbs on her body, they’d make her run them off until she passed out from pure exhaustion. Or worse. The sound of the bag grabbed her attention, and she noticed Loki curiously looking at the food she offered. She smiled softly and went back to eating her half. At least he’d be able to eat something before his fate was decided for him. It was strange, the silence wasn’t as suffocating as she expected. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t alone in the silence. With each glance she found herself studying him once again. His body language really put her off, she wondered just what it meant. If it meant the same as her body language, and if the burn scars had anything to do with it. She knew for a fact Shield didn’t burn him or physically abuse him. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering back to the footage of his first appearance. He fought admittedly very impressively, but she did remember the steam rolling off him. Perhaps the tesseract had side effects from traveling through it? Maybe, but that didn’t quite sit right with her. Then there was the note of his eyes being a different color now. They were piercing blue when they met, but now...now they’re this almost greyish green. It didn’t make sense, especially considering all those who were under the influence of the staff had blue eyes. She hummed in thought, before opening her eyes to meet the very same pair of green ones across the room. He quickly looked away, continuing to slowly chew his half of the sandwich. 

“So, tell me...what’s your natural eye color?” He stopped mid chew, swallowing his bite.

“Pardon?”

“Your eye color, I assume it’s a simple question.” He narrowed his eyes inquisitively towards her. 

“...Who’s to tell really.” He smiled leaning forward a bit. 

“I can change it to whatever color I please, it’s quite the feat really.” He closed his eyes, only to open them and show a vibrant yellow pair of eyes, only to close his eyes again and then turn back green. She sat in silence for a moment, humming and smiling.

“...so do you think they won’t believe you?” His smile fell, tilting his head as he glared.

“Believed what?”

“That you weren’t in control of yourself.” He seemed to just freeze, staring her down as she sat back. He looked almost...petrified, but not in fear, almost shock or anger, she couldn’t quite place which one. 

“...What?”

“Someone sent you here, didn’t they? The one who actually owned that staff of yours. It would explain quite a few unanswered questions.” He seemed to sit back, examining her now.

“And just what questions, if I may ask?” Abigail looked up at him a softer look forming in her eyes. 

“Why do you have those fairly new scars that weren’t from any of the Avengers. Not the bruising either, the burn scars. They seem too new to be old ones, but too old to be caused by any of us. Not to mention...I recognize your posture.” He seemed to build up more walls with each word she spoke, straightening his back and crossing his arms. 

“I don’t know what you think you recognize as far as my posture goes, but I can assure you I’m the one you should be worrying about, not some hypothetical other that supposedly sent me.”

“Then what’s your eye color?”

“What is with you and my eye color? Isn’t it obvious? Not to mention, as I showed you, my eye color can change on a whim.”

“Let’s say I’m colorblind, what is your eye color normally?” He rolled his eyes, looking around the room as if not to make eye contact.

“I’d assume whatever color it is as of right now?”

“Is that Blue?” 

“I...What?” He looked back to her, visibly confused. She went through her bag and pulled out the familiar notebook. 

“Your eyes are Green.” She spoke simply, opening her notebook and flipping through pages.

“...Yes, they are. Why are you so infatuated with my eye color my dear?” He stared at her now, giving his attention to her. 

“..Your eye color when you had that staff was Blue, Loki. The same blue as a certain avenger that you had under your control. Or should I say, the staff’s control?” Her hazel eyes locked with his. They just stared at each other for a moment, before he closed his eyes and sat up. 

“Excellent observation Agent Lynn, but what do you expect me to say?”

“Nothing really, I just wonder which reason it is that you haven’t tried to mention it to the others. I have a few guesses.”

“Is that so? Then please, by all means, tell me.” He seemed annoyed, to which Abigail smiled softly.

“....Someone who hates to be pitied, afraid of being considered weak and helpless. Someone who’d much rather be considered the ruthless attacker of earth and be sent back to Asgard a villain than to be sent back a victim that had to be saved by his brother. Perhaps you have it in your head already that the others would never believe you anyway. That it would only seem like a pathetic attempt to Gain pity. Why bother telling the truth when all it would do is make you look weak or helpless? Not to mention, if someone or something else did send you to earth, it would have to be stronger than you by quite the difference, otherwise you wouldn’t have any of the scars you do. If you warned us of such a creature, we’d either get ourselves killed hunting for such a creature, or we wouldn’t believe you anyway, and maybe it would come looking for you because you spoke up. If that were the case….” She placed her hand over her sleeved arm. 

“I completely understand.” With each word he had begun to glare, as if she was spot on for most of it, but her final statement made him stand abruptly. At the glass almost immediately he leaned his arm on the glass, staring down at her. 

“You Understand Nothing.” He spoke through gritted teeth. She flinched at his tone, but stood her ground staring up at him. 

“I understand more than you think.”

“What do you think you’ll get from this little exchange? Are you pitying me because you Think you’ve gained some sort of answer from me?”

“No.” She spoke calmly, standing up from her seat. 

“I’m letting you know you aren’t the only one with scars. I certainly won’t blame you for hiding them, I’d be hypocritical to do that.” She picked up her notebook and tore out a page, handing it to him through the window. 

“I’m just letting you know you aren’t completely alone in the universe. Some would find comfort in that.” Snatching the page from her, he went to crumple it, only to stop and notice it was the drawing she had done of him. Glancing between her and the drawing, his hand lowered still carrying the drawing.

“You still know nothing, don’t make yourself out to be some sort of therapist.” He went back to his seat, and she to hers. The silence consumed them for hours as the two found anything to entertain themselves. Mostly sitting and thinking. Abigail continued to doodle in her notebook until her hands were sore, and when that was down she resorted to laying on the floor. She stared at the ceiling just as Loki seemed to do on the couch, tossing a small object he seemed to create with his magic. 

“....So magic huh?” He glanced over towards her with a sigh. 

“Yes.”

“...That’s really cool. Honestly, when I was little I was obsessed with the idea of magic. Unfortunately it’s pretty much impossible for humans to do magic. Unless they have some sort of relic or radiation done to them. Nothing natural.”

“Yes well, Asgard seems much more advanced than your Midgard.”

“That’s fair. So what else can you do?” 

“...Do you honestly want to know?”

“I mean, sure. I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to see real magic again, all things considered.” He seemed to chuckle, sitting up and staring down at her. 

“....Perhaps one day you’ll get to see my handy work in action~”

“Maybe it won’t have anything to do with attacking New York next time~?” 

“Perhaps~” She let out a giggle, the first real giggle let out in a while. Loki stared at her softly, taking in a soft breath of awe at the sound of her genuine giggle. This mortal… He shook his head and went back to staring at the wall. 

“...Did my brother happen to mention to you when we would depart to Asgard?”

“Ah, about that…” She sat up and turned her attention to him.

“You might not be leaving, I’m not entirely sure though.”

“What do you mean?”

“They weren’t too fond of the idea of Thor taking you back to Asgard. It’s completely up to them in the end. Thor mentioned your adopted father was pretty strict.” He seemed to slightly flinch at the mention of Odin. 

“...Which do you prefer? Here or Asgard?” He scoffed.

“Do you honestly care about my preference? It’s not like I really get a say in this.” He leaned back on the couch once again, staring at the ceiling.

“...Either way I’ll be locked up for quite some time. On Asgard I’ll most likely be locked up for much longer than you Midgardians could keep me. But I would be far away from this place, away from the Avengers and away from…” He had caught a glimpse of her paying attention so politely, and the words he spoke faded from his mind.

“I...have no preference. I do however expect my stubborn brother to bring me home. Even if I did stay here, Odin would simply prepare my punishment for when I returned later.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She looked at her closed notebook.

“Well, call me biased, but…” She laid back down once again.

“...I’d want you to stay.” He scoffed.

“Really now? Fallen for a criminal Agent Lynn~?”

“It’s not like that and you know it~” She smiled over to him.

“I just...this isn’t my normal work life. I’m usually at a desk all the time, or home. Sometimes it's just….fun to talk to someone.”

“Even if that someone could manipulate you~?” 

“Ah yes, Loki God of Mischief. They say he has a silver tongue meant for manipulation to all and a sharp mind for chaotic antics~” He chuckled. 

“At your service~” The two just seemed to make small talk with each other for hours, laying on the floor or couch with slight shifts to find comfort in their positions.

“You know, I find it odd I got a couch before you did. Aren’t I the one being punished?”

“To be fair, they probably expected me to leave by now. I imagine they weren’t planning on me falling asleep on watch, or at least laying on the floor.”

“I will admit it’s quite odd to see you down there, how is it you’re naïve enough to be so comfortable around me?” She shrugged. 

“Honestly if you killed me I would consider it a blessing that I wouldn’t have to go home.” He raised a brow.

“How do you mean? It couldn’t possibly be that bad that you wish for death.” She laughed weakly, arms crossed under her chin as she laid on the ground.

“To quote you from earlier: ‘You Understand Nothing’,” She yawned and stretched a bit, Loki noticing her sleeves slipping up to reveal a darkened patch starting up her wrists. He hummed in thought.

“It appears we both have our secrets.”

“Yup, but umm...in regards to our...hypothetical earlier…” He looked at her, preparing for her to say something along the lines of thanks for the intel, or ask more intrusive questions. 

“Your secret is safe with me, if you’re not wanting to share it with the others.” He was so caught off guard he sat up.

“I beg your pardon?”

“What?”

“You won’t...tell them?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. I mean it’s your business. You didn’t tell me you were going to attack again or try to escape or anything. This is your personal information, so I’ll keep my mouth shut.” He found himself, for the first time in quite a while, at a loss of words.

“Why?”

“Well, you’re gonna find it stupid.” She started, rolling onto her side.

“But I find trust very important. I’m choosing to trust you until you give me a real reason not to. Fair warning though, my trust is a very fragile thing. Once you break it don’t expect to ever get another chance.” He chuckled, shaking his head a bit.

“Trust...you’re right, I do find it very stupid.” She giggled, gaining a smile from him. As the sun began to rise outside, the two had started to doze off, Abigail pinching herself and barely conscious when the doors opened for the morning agents. 

“Agent Lynn, your shift is over.” She yawned and stretched, before pulling herself up and patting one of the agents on the shoulder. 

“Alright, be civil you two.” She went to the door, turning and looking behind to see Loki now awake, watching her leave. 

“Hey Loki.” He made eye contact with her at the sound of her voice. 

“Whatever happens…” She started, biting her lip.

“It was nice talking to you.” He nodded, giving a slight smile before putting up his front with these other agents. Abigail smiled and turned towards the door once again, carrying her bag over her shoulder and yawning. She needed caffeine, lots of it. Now all that’s left is the Avenger’s final decision. The thought for some reason, really put her on edge. She thought back to Loki’s tired smile, and her chest leapt. She hoped for the best, that’s all she really could do. Ironically enough, she’s never felt so helpless and out of control before this very moment.

Chapter 3:

[estemoore]

「abigail cowen | 22 | cis woman」 estelle moore is working at jetpack records? you’d think she would have it together by now but she can be moody and flighty, which counters how independent and adventurous she is. i think she wanted to be a musician when she was younger, so i don’t know what happened. 「peach | 21 | gmt+8 | she/her」

sun sign: scorpio ( + brave , passionate // - mysterious , intense ) moon sign: pisces ( + empathetic , creative // - over-emotional , escapist ) rising sign: aries ( + strong , independent // - impulsive , intimidating ) alignment: chaotic neutral. hogwarts house: gryffindor. temperament: choleric. enneagram: 4 — the individualist. archetype: the rebel.

estelle’s mother had been the epitome of femininity her entire life. always dressed to the nines, always glammed up. hearing she was going to have a daughter was great news. small dresses in pretty much every shade of pink imaginable already bought even before she had arrived.

unfortunately for her mother, este had never been the most lady-like. when she was young, there was never any arguments about it. este would roll her eyes while her mother picked out her dress and did her hair in the morning. her mother would sigh when she came home with fiery curls wild and free from whatever style they had been in before and stains on her dress.

as she got older, however, that changed. like every other girl her age, she was finding herself. she ditched the feminine style her mother picked out for her & replaced it with worn jeans that showed bruised knees through the rips. she spent a ton of her time down at the skate park with her friends.

she comes on very strong & won’t take shit from anyone. growing up having to fight for her right to express herself made her think she’d always have to fight. unapologetic and refuses to change herself to fit into anyone’s box.

has a soft spot deep down, but it’s quite a feat to get este to actually open up and show it. BAD at communicating and admitting her feelings. 9/10 times will pick the easy route and ignore or take the easy way out of any serious feelings talk.

always wanted to be a singer in a band when she was growing up, but also dabbled in drumming.

her passion from drumming first came from the idea it would be therapeutic to repeatedly hit something. it started as a joke but had actually managed to catch her attention. there were never any formal lessons, but lots of following along to trial, errors, and complaints from the neighbours.

her mother wasn’t fond of este’s new hobby. honestly? that just inspired her more. it felt like EXACTLY what she should be doing.

there was a huge amount of pressure from her mother to give up and “try to make something of herself”. tensions continued to rise between her and her mother which eventually ended with este spending her eighteenth birthday moving boxes to the shitty apartment she could barely afford. the independence was worth the exhausting shifts at her job and tight budget when it came to everything else.

este has a cat! she was used to always living with someone, it got incredibly lonely moving into the space by herself. so she adopted a stray from the shelter. a little ginger cat!! they match 🥺 but este will roll her eyes if you point that out. he’s easily the most important thing in her life. way too spoiled for his own good ngl.

( does este time all her meals with her cat ?? yeah. she’d never miss feeding him so it keeps her on routine )