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plant-flwrs · 3 years

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ruined parties // older brother draco (implied fred weasley)

masterlist!

a/n: i didn't know how to label this without it looking like an incest fic and I just want everyone to know it is most definitely not an incest fic and I don't know how to make it look better why is this my life

i just saw this in my inbox unreasonably late and I loved it sm so I wrote this little overprotective big brother draco fic :) I wanted to thank @gaycatlord-stuff for the message and the meme because I loved it sm and it rly got the juices in my sahara desert brain flowing.

summary: Draco is a relentlessly overprotective brother who ruins all romantic opportunities for you.

(2k)

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Sometimes, you wondered how different your life would be as a muggle. You wondered if your wealthy parents would have shoved you off to a nanny rather than house-elves; if you would have gone to a muggle boarding school and studied classic literature for an actual class and not just for fun, which Draco loved to remind you was one of the weirder things about you; if you would have learned to do laundry and wash the dishes and comb your hair without the brush levitating with a flick of your wand.

You wondered, most of all, how Draco would manage to beat up all the boys who showed interest in you as you grew up.

Draco went through his phases of the ways in which he would 'protect' you. He had really enjoyed the bat-bogey hex for a while in your first year. In second year and most of third year, he went with the safe option of the jelly-legs jinx. By fourth year he had matured to more advanced methods of transfiguration. He had managed to turn Michael Corner into a raccoon for at least a whole day when Michael had offered to carry your bag for you in the hall.

Fifth year was bad. He had been taken in by Snape, who offered him a number of tips and tricks in the world of dark magic. You insisted Draco didn't need dark magic, and he insisted that you mind your own business.

Draco was irritable and nearly unbearable by sixth year. He hovered over you like a vulture, sending glares to anyone who even looked at you. Your friends started calling him Bloody Mary because he was always haunting over your shoulder. You knew it was because your parents were putting a lot of pressure on him and his crush on Harry Potter was becoming inhumanely large, but still. It was annoying.

It was even more annoying when Draco seemed to have met a suitable match in Fred Weasley.

You had a bit of a liking for muggle things. The school year was your only chance to inhabit this hobby, with your father removing all your muggle posters from your room the second you left for the train. You took Muggle Studies and begged Dumbledore not to tell your parents. You had mostly muggle-born or half-blood friends, which you also told your parents nothing about. Draco found this all the more reason to 'protect' you.

"You ought to dye your hair," you gritted out, sulking over your breakfast and resisting the urge to kick Draco's shin under the table.

Draco didn't respond, shoveling beans into his mouth with an unamused look.

"Seriously," you continued. "Your hair doesn't match your energy. Black would be very striking. You and your boyfriend would be matching."

Draco kicked your shin under the table, making you regret not taking your chance earlier. Harry was a sore spot for Draco, but Draco had just done a wandless spell on Ernest Macmillan before he could ask you to Hogsmeade, and he deserved it.

"What are you reading?" He grunted, offering an unspoken truce he knew you would take.

You shielded the cover, "Killing your brother 101. Enlightening."

"How far into it are you?"

"Almost done. I'd prepare yourself if I were you."

Draco hummed, unfazed by your murderous threats.

"You finish the notes for Charms?" you shut your book, stealing a piece of cantaloupe from Draco's plate.

"Yes," Draco looked at you eating the stolen fruit unapprovingly, pulling some sort of older brother superiority with just one look at you. Infuriating.

"What's the time?" You abandoned the Charms notes, no longer willing to admit you didn't do them.

"Just past 7," Draco pushed his plate away from him, standing and straightening his tie.

"See you at dinner," you began putting your things away and Draco mumbled a goodbye, setting off for his own classes. You were just shoveling the last of the beans he left on his plate into your mouth when a foreign group of bodies were across from you in your peripheral.

You lifted your head, hunched over the beans and still chewing, to see Fred, George, and Lee.

You squinted, chewing slowly and leaning back as to avoid any sort of tripwire for a prank.

"Malfoy," Fred said pleasantly, which was not how people usually said your last name.

"Big brother leave you by your lonesome?" Lee added, also not taking the cruel tone most would when talking about your brother.

This was odd.

"What do you want?" you swallowed your food, eyeing them suspiciously.

"I thought she was meant to be the better of them," George stage-whispered to Lee.

"We are here to formally invite you to a party we are hosting," Fred continued, unperturbed.

Lee and George watched you, waiting for your reaction.

"Alright," you agreed and stood, joining your friends in the hall to walk to class.

"That was easier than I expected," Lee said cheerfully, visibly relieved now that he was not in your presence.

"I told you," Fred puffed his chest out confidently and place his hands on the table as he stood, "Without Draco around, she's perfect."

The party was in full swing and Draco was drunk. With one guess, you would have to assume it had something to do with the way Harry kept offering to top off his glass, his hand hovering on the small of Draco's back as they talked into each other's ears.

Drunk Draco was a luxury you were not often afforded. Drunk Draco meant living a life of your own, doing things without his watchful eye.

So you also got drunk. Your friends used the term 'waisted' the next morning, but we will say 'drunk' for maturity purposes. And drunk you got!

Fred was always suspiciously close to you, and suspiciously nice once you thought harder on it. You tried not to leave any drink unguarded while he hovered and stayed with friends as often as possible.

You eventually found yourself on a large leather couch in the center of the room. Ron was next to you, stoned out of his mind, and digging around in the pocket of his flannel for more rolling papers. On the other side of you, Luna's head rolled around her neck, falling onto your shoulder and the couch and finally landing on Ginny's lap when she passed out. You watched Ginny stroke her hair, occasionally tracing a line down her nose. Sighing, you accepted the blunt when Ron finally passed it your way.

You were passing it back, sufficiently stoned out of your gourd, when it was plucked from your hands. You thought you had dropped it, jolting back and looking around frantically until you saw those awful, bony, white fingers dangling the now soggy blunt in front of your face.

"C'mon!" Ron groaned, face twisting through the stages of grief as he saw his ruined creation.

"Pot?" Draco said as if he were 40 and with a mortgage.

"Pot," you replied as if you were 17 and at a party.

One of you had an accurate hold on reality. The other held a soggy blunt.

Ron took the soggy blunt and attempted to salvage it, sinking down to his knees to work on the coffee table in front of you. Draco took his seat and set his drink on the table to his side. He didn't drink from it, presumably because of a blunt that had been swimming in it for a moment.

"I thought you were with Harry," you said slowly, torn between wanting to hurt Draco if something had gone badly with Harry and actually wanting to know why he wasn't still with him.

"Yeah, he went up to bed," Draco answered, not sounding pitiful and mournful like he had a habit of sounding after interacting with Harry.

"He didn't take you with him?" you slurred, leaning into Draco's strong and seemingly sober shoulder.

"Shut up," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your side and hauling you off the couch. You reached into his pocket, finding some loose bills you knew would be there, and slipped them to Ron as compensation before you left.

You felt accomplished, drunk and high, leaving a party after a fun time. It was also a highlight to have given Ron Weasley Draco's drug money.

As per usual, you didn't have a date for Hogsmeade. Your friends were all in Madam Puddifoot's with their dates, gazing over the table at each other like lovesick puppies. Draco currently had you in a headlock while he rubbed his knuckles into the top of your head.

You shoved your heal into his foot, making him release you.

You both returned to your drinks with slightly labored breaths and scowls.

Draco was upset because Harry wasn't at Hogsmeade and you were upset because you were in Hogsmeade with Draco. You would have fallen at his knees and begged him to release you from the chains of this sibling dynamic if he weren't the one buying lunch today.

You ate, still scowling, and walked around scowling, and returned to Hogwarts scowling. You hugged each other, scowling, before bed and went to your respective dorms.

It was hot and there was no wind. Really, absolutely no wind. The water on the black lake was eerily reflective and the trees were unmoving.

You were walking with some friends, charmed fans moving around you as they blew cold air in your faces. You were returning from Hogsmeade with ice cream, very happy from the outing without Draco.

Regretfully, Draco did not seem to be as happy.

Stepping into the courtyard, you felt a drop of your ice cream land on your hand, sticky and cold and messy, and at the same time, you saw Draco hurl himself at Fred Weasley.

Fred sprawled across the courtyard, landing on some poorly transfigured pillows that you guessed were the product of George's wandless magic. His head was cushioned from what would have been a nasty hit on the stone. He squirmed under Draco, long arms and legs flailing against the steady weight Draco was putting on him.

You watched Lee and George leaning against a wall, presumably letting Fred fight this battle on his own.

You decided to do something similar.

You watched as Fred wrangled himself free, both boys tripping over the pillows until George vanished them. In the free space, they circled each other with their hands raised. It was funny to see two pure-blood wizards fighting so viciously without a hint of magic.

Draco took a step forward with his left foot, tricking Fred out to lunge at him from the right. He had Fred's leg and then Fred was on the ground again, grunting in pain. Draco flipped him and pinned him, knee resting on Fred's back and hands holding his arms together. Deciding Draco had enough fun, you walked over.

"Fight Club?" you offered, quirking an eyebrow.

"Did you go to Hogsmeade?" Draco ignored you, panting slightly. Up close you saw he had a nasty bruise on his cheekbone and some blood coming from his nose. Fred must have gotten a few hits in.

"Yeah," you licked your ice cream, "bloody scorching out."

"Hm," Draco hummed, adjusting his grip on Fred's arm and causing Fred to yelp in pain.

"How are you?" you asked politely.

"Alright. You?"

"Alright."

Draco nodded.

"So, what's this about?"

"He said he was going to prank you," Draco said, shrugging and adjusting Fred's arm again on purpose.

You gasped in faux shock, crouching down to look at Fred.

"A prank?" you asked him, smirking.

"No!" Fred yelped when he tried to move his arms.

You looked to Draco, whose eyebrows were furrowed. "I heard you! You said you were going to take her out!"

"Draco."

"Draco!" Fred yelped, finally getting his arms loose and crawling from underneath Draco's grasp.

"Oh my fucking god."

"Merlin," Fred mumbled, looking at your face and then Draco's guilty expression.

"Oh," Draco said simply, head tilting as he added up the moment's events in his head.

"Oh my fucking god," you repeated.

Draco got his feet under him.

"Oh my fucking god!" you hurled your ice cream cone at his back, hitting him hard as he ran. You chased him, narrowly avoiding the trail of melted strawberry ice cream he was leaving through the halls.

#draco #draco malfoy #malfoy #big brother draco #fred weasley x reader #fred has a crush on the reader #draco is an overprotective brother #draco is stupid #draco loves harry #drarry #humor #harry potter #hp #hogwarts

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sholiofic · 3 years

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😍 A lil scene with Ayo being worried in regards to an angsty/exhausted Bucky maybe? Gen though? 😍 Like, tfatws or in Wakanda.

Getting back to the prompts! I'm sorry it's taken me so long on some of these; they're lovely!

When Ayo volunteered to be one of the rotating guard on the White Wolf, it was curiosity that drove her, for the most part. It was an interesting assignment. She wanted to know more of the unusual outsider who had so thoroughly intrigued the princess and the entire royal family.

She had not expected to like him this much.

"You should rest, White Wolf," she said, appearing from the shadows as he struggled one-handed to place the top rail on a fence he was helping rebuild for a family who had suffered storm damage on the outskirts of the kingdom.

It was after dark; floodlights and a bonfire illuminated the work area. All the other volunteers had gone home.

The White Wolf—Bucky, James, whatever it was that he chose to call himself—glanced at her through his shaggy fall of hair, then sat on the bottom fence rail and leaned his head back against it. "Haven't you heard? I have supersoldier serum running through my veins. I don't get tired."

His obvious exhaustion gave the lie to it. He might be stronger than most men, but he had been working the entire day through with barely a break, as other volunteers came and went.

Ayo sat on the rail beside him and offered him a drinking gourd. He raised an eyebrow, but took it and took a cautious sip.

"It's only fruit juice. Diluted somewhat. Good for dehydration, and anyone would be dehydrated after working in the sun all day. Supersoldier or not."

He hesitated, and then drank.

She had seen him pause over small creature comforts like that before. It was as if he felt he did not deserve to have them.

Now, he winced as he raised the gourd. His arm was clearly sore from the work, but it was more than that. She watched him, and when he handed back the gourd, she got a better look at his hand. It was no surprise that after working with the unfinished lumber all day, his hand was a mess of splinters and blisters, but what bothered her most was how little he seemed to care.

"May I see your hand?" she asked, setting the gourd aside.

"Ah. Yeah. That." He looked down as if he was just noticing it, and gave her a slight, rueful grin. "Nah, it's okay." He pulled out a splinter with his teeth.

"I wouldn't like to have to explain to the princess that I gave you back in less than perfect condition."

"Perfect," he scoffed, but after a moment, he held out his hand. It felt like some kind of concession, like an answer to a question she hadn't asked. She took his hand carefully in hers, and opened the pouch she carried at her belt, which had—among other things—a small tool that could extract splinters with a touch and seal the skin behind, and a salve to soothe pain and bring healing.

"This isn't really necessary," Bucky said uncomfortably as she worked on his hand.

"I know." She smoothed the salve with her fingertips across the hot and reddened skin. He had calluses for guns and other weapons, but none at all for manual labor. She really should have anticipated this earlier and headed it off before it got this bad.

"Ayo," Bucky said suddenly. "Are you afraid of me?"

She didn't have to even think about it before answering. "No."

"Why not?"

Ayo smiled slightly as she worked on his palm. "Because I know I could defeat you."

"Really." He sounded skeptical. "Even though I'm ... what I am."

She arched a brow at him. "Should I prove it?"

To her surprise, and not a little pleasure, he actually laughed. It was a dry chuckle that seemed to startle him more than it did her. "I think right now I couldn't fight one of the goats in that pen."

"I wouldn't want to fight a goat at any time of day," Ayo remarked. "You, I could defeat easily. The goats of the plains, I am not so sure about."

He smiled slightly.

"There." She let go of his hand; he flexed it, seeming surprised by the lack of pain. "Now I don't have to explain to the princess why I gave you back with one less arm than you started with, and you really don't have one to lose."

Bucky gave her a startled look, and he laughed again. This time it was less rough and uneasy, and more natural. The quick smile that went along with it was, she thought, perhaps a look back into the man he had once been, a lot of years and pain ago.

"Come on," she said, sliding off the rail. "The goats will still be here tomorrow. There are sleeping pallets in the house for both of us, and food if you want it." And she held out a hand.

He seemed a little surprised by this, but after a moment he took it, his palm still a little greasy from the salve, and let her help him off the rail.

#black panther #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #ayo

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stwberryshtcake · 2 years

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Strawberry Shortcake OCs (2003)

Pumpkin Pie:

- He is a few years older than the gang (1-3 years).

- He’s generally referred to as ‘Chef’ or by his full name.

- Pumpkin has an Irish Setter named Gourd.

- Tan skin and black hair, tied up out of his face.

- He wears a pumpkin decal shir, orange pants, and a pumpkin shaped backpack when he’s out and about. When working he wears an orange bandanna on his head, a plain dark purple shirt, black slacks, and an orange chef’s apron.

- Very Tall.

- Sees the other confections/children and is like “I’m your big brother now”.

- Pumpkin will Fight the Purple Pieman and Licorice Whip. Sour Grapes is on thin ice.

- Closest to Huck, Orange Blossom, and Strawberry. Would die for Apple Dumpling.

- Makes various pumpkin and gourd related meals at his little diner called ‘The Gourdan”. It’s shaped like a pumpkin.

- He lives in an bright orange triangle shaped house, that Peppermint Fizz HATES but can do nothing about.

- Smokes candy cigarettes.

- Loves cooking and handyman stuff.

Winterberry Crumble:

- The same age as the others.

- He’s called Winnie for short.

- He has a white cat named Sugar.

- Very pale with short white-blond hair.

- Winnie, wears white and grey clothing, with winterberries embroidered on the hems.

- Very slight and is about the height of Huck’s shoulder.

- He writes and illustrates nature guides with help from Huck and the others.

- Sweet yet passive aggressive child.

- Neighbors with Blueberry Muffin, who is his closest friend.

- Winnie gets sick easily and tends to spend a lot of time inside.

- His house is a very quaint white cottage with a winterberry garden around it.

- he likes Strawberry’s tea.

- Winnie likes drawing and going on short walks, when he’s feeling well.

Elderberry Syrup:

- The same age as the others.

- Her nickname is Ellie

- She has a Betta fish named Rhubarb.

- Light skin and long black hair.

- She is short, barely comes up to Strawberry’s shoulder.

- Ellie wears dark purples and blacks.

- Ellie is also nicknamed “The Matron” by the other confections/children, she generally acts as a nurse and has a small clinic by her house.

- Acts much older than she is, sometimes the others forget she’s their age.

- Ellie lives close to the river and often visits with Rainbow Sherbet and Ginger Snap, the latter gets hurt often.

- Does house visits with Winterberry since he can’t really walk long distances.

- Huck brings her Huckleberry Pie as payment, which she devours.

- Her house is shaped like a syrup bottle, while her clinic is more usual looking.

- Ellie likes collecting unusual plates and singing. (She has a nice voice).

Chamomile Tea:

- Two years older than the kids.

- Called Cammie.

- Has a hare named Tippy.

- Sienna skin tone and brown hair.

- Willowy and slender.

- Cammie wears chamomile yellow dresses.

- Grows tea and sells it all over the world. Interacts a lot with Rainbow Sherbet but they aren’t really friends, they’re more business partners.

- Cammie is generally avoided by nearly everyone else, even Strawberry. This is because she is one of life’s antagonists.

- Deliberately mean and enjoys causing discomfort.

- Cammie is close with Peppermint Fizz, who she’s neighbors with.

- Can only order in at the Gourdon after she bullied Orange Blossom (who was doing delivery as a favor to Pumpkin) to tears. (It was like this).

- Pumpkin only sells to her so she won’t harass anyone else in Strawberryland. She likes his pumpkin soup.

- Her house is a two story house that looks like a tea box.

- Cammie likes gardening, crocheting, and testing Pumpkin’s near non-existent patience.

Cranberry Crumb:

- A few months older than the kids but not by much.

- Called C.C. or Crumb.

- He has a pet pig named Hamlet.

- Medium skin tone and light red hair.

- Sturdy build.

- C.C. wears red overalls and a green t-shirt. He’s very colorblind and usually just wears a black shirt and jeans while running his business.

- Sells various juices and teas in his bar, The Nightshade Berry. Will not sell Cammie’s tea though.

- He hangs out with Angel Cake a lot and also Huck. He mostly gets along with everyone though.

- He Does Not Like Honey Pie Pony.

- C.C. is very dry and sarcastic.

- Like’s Angel’s cakes a lot.

- His Bar is shaped like a juice bottle. His house is a small two room house, painted dark green with red trim.

- C.C. enjoys fishing and building rockets.

#strawberry shortcake #strawberry shortcake 2003 #strawberry shortcake ocs #cranberry crumb #winterberry crumble #pumpkin pie #chamomile tea #elderberry syrup #adding more neighbors and also guy characters.#Strawberry shortcake needed a child antagonist.#strawberry shortcake oc

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Heartbeat

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst

Summary: This is based off 'Points Scored' on my fanfic vote. Sirius and others play a game to see who can sleep with reader first.

An: Sorry for not writting!

"Beat that, fuckers!" Sirius exclaimed busting through the door.

Avery and Mulciber were seated, they looked at him with nervous excitement that they couldn't quite describe.

Sirius then threw a lacy bra onto the table proceeding to bow as the other two boys glanced down at the fabric.

"Don't tell me that’s-"

"That's right, Grace Huddleston!" Sirius beamed.

"No way!" Avery complained, "She wouldn't even come within ten feet of us!"

"That's because you’re slimy gits, not the smooth and handsome Sirius Black." He grinned enjoying the distraught looks of his associates.

Mulciber rolled his eyes and glanced down at the sheet, "As impressive as that is Black, you’re still losing."

"What?! How?! She's worth 10 points!" He said completely aghast.

"Yes, but while you did that I scored Narcissa and Andromeda, both 6 points," Avery smirked.

"My cousins you sick fuck? I thought we agreed on no family?" He growled.

"Yes, we agreed on no DIRECT family, and since neither of us wants to fuck your brother I'd say we're fine." Mulciber smiled.

"Fuck you guys," Sirius muttered plopping down onto a chair examine the chart they had made. He was indeed behind Avery by 7 points and only ahead of Mulciber by 3. The game was ending at the end of the month, leaving him only two weeks to pull ahead. This would have been easy if Avery wasn't scoring points fast enough to keep his lead.

"If you actually want a chance to win I say you go for one of the big two." Avery sneered.

There were two names at the bottom of their little chart, each worth 30 points, an amount which would pull Sirius far enough to win.

The first name scrawled in Mulciber’s not so impressive handwriting read. ‘Lily Evans’.

Now, of course, Sirius would never go for that one. For one, the thought of sleeping with Evan's made him sick, for another even if he managed to somehow seduce her, James would kill him before he even got his points redeemed.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You guys know that they are impossible."

"I thought you were the Great Sirius Black?" Mulciber mocked.

"Or was that all talk?" Avery grinned.

"Fine." Sirius huffed, "Just don’t come crying for your money back when I win."

"If you win Black. If."

"You know what, let's make it more interesting," Sirius smirked, "Since all of us know I'm not gonna go for Evans, how about whoever can sleep with y/l/n first wins? No time limit, just racing against each other. Whoever gets her first wins?"

Avery and Mulciber glanced at each other.

"Or are you guys too scared?" Sirius jeered.

"Fine." Avery agreed "We're in."

You glared down the girl in front of you, almost begging her to do what you knew she was planning.

“Oops.” Marlen drawled sarcastically pouring the cup of pumpkin juice delicately onto your head.

You didn't flinch, your heart still sustaining its soft, steady beat. You swiped your tongue out onto your lips humming at the taste of the spiced gourde.

Marlen stared at you, you could tell that this was not what she was used to. She was used to girls screaming or bursting into tears. Of course, you did not fulfill these expectations.

“You’re going to regret that Mckinnon.” You murmerd a signature smirk still twitching on your lips.

You saw her eyes flash with fear before darting around and resetting on your own.

“Oh, are you going to write to mommy and daddy about it, they're gonna fix it for you? Or are you gonna break your psycho uncle out of Azkaban and have him kill us?” She smiled sweetly, the sugar that coated everything she did made you want to vomit.

“Don't worry you'll see him in there soon enough.” She giggled; a ridiculously sharp noise.

“Do not ever compare me to my family.” You growled.

“Oooohh, I'm terrified.” She mocked although you could read the truth in her eyes, the truth she would never share with the girls who were crowded around you.

“You do it again and I won't have to break out my uncle to kill you.” Your voice was so low the girl you were speaking to could hardly hear it.

“Don’t worry I’ll put you where you belong, behind bars.”

Her smile and the girls laughs only lasted for a short second.

You heard a loud crunch as your knuckles connected with her nose, a sharp yell of pain echoed through the corridor followed quickly by gasps and screams.

You hissed at the pain your hand now held, it throbbed lightly, your heartbeat finding itself there.

Sobs then grasped from Marlen’s mouth causing you to scoff, mumbling “Pathetic.” quietly under your breath before you turned to leave.

"Miss y/l/n!" McGonagall shouted, her voice inflated with fury.

"Yes Professor?" You drawled turning to face the women, a bored expression taking your features.

"I just ran into Miss McKinnon and her nose is broken!" She yelled glaring down at you, it was no secret you were one of her least favorite students.

"She shouldn't be sticking it in other people's business." You shrugged picking at your nails.

"Are you telling me that you are the one who broke it?" She gasped.

"Godric, I would have thought you had figured that already." You rolled your eyes.

"Detention, my room, for a month." She hissed.

"I'm so sorry, I'm going to have to cancel." You hummed a disappointed look falling upon you.

"Miss y/l/n detention isn’t something you can just cancel." She scoffed

"It is when I already have detention with Flitwick." You shrugged.

"Fine then. Morning detention. I already have a group of students serving then, you will join them."

"I'm gonna gave to cancel again." You smiled.

"Don't tell me you have more detention." McGonagall sighed.

"No, I'm just not a morning person." You smirked.

McGonagall sharpened her gaze on you and you just smiled back.

"I expect to see you there Miss y/l/n."

"Of course." You mocked.

McGonagall turned on her heel mumbling something about the need for discipline and left.

You did the same continuing towards your common room. You reached the room and was about to whisper the password when a booming voice echoed through the dark corridor.

"Y/l/n!"

You turned to be met with a pair of stunning green eyes and floppy blonde hair. A mischievous smile danced in white, tucked neatly behind a pair of pink lips.

"Avery." You drawled attempting to keep your eyes from rolling.

"You look stunning as always." He complimented this time nothing could have stopped your eyes from turning in their sockets, "How are you?"

"Better when you weren't here." You sighed.

"Oh come one y/l/n, we're friends." He smiled.

"Just because I have been forced to go to the same social gatherings as you since I was four doesn't mean we're friends." You drawled before mumbling the password and slipping into the common room.

Avery followed, as persistent as ever, "Good, I never liked the friend zone anyway."

You scoffed, "Well I hope you enjoy the dickwad-who-harasses-me zone."

"I wouldn't call it harassment." He smirked placing his hand lightly on your waist.

"I would," you spoke snatching his palm from your skin and twisting it harshly.

He gasped but continued to smile, "I bet you like it rough in bed."

You dug your nails into his flesh hearing his hiss in pain, "Speak to me like that again and I break your wrist. Clear?"

"Crystal." He whimpered.

"Avery!" Another voice called through the common room, "Will you please stop harassing the beautiful girl?"

You let go of Avery's wrist and turned, this time to see Mulciber.

Avery through him a sharp glance before backing away from you.

"Are you okay?" He asked, placing his hand on your shoulder and examining you closely. A little too closely.

"Fine." You shook his hand off your shoulder once and tossed one more icy glare at Avery before ascending to your room.

You groaned wincing as you sat up slowly from your bed, your head pounded. You swore, regretting the small bottle of fire whiskey which now lay empty on your floor.

You stood slowly, the grey of early morning dulling the colors of your dorm room. You stepped down from your bed, your warm feet cooling on the wooden floor. You glanced out of the window to your left.

You let your mind sink into the green murky water, you watched something dart by calmly. You wished to stay there forever, watching as the kelp swayed slowly back and forth, part of you wanted to grab the closest thing and smash the glass letting yourself become part of the dark wet.

You brushed the thought from your head dressing in silence, downing a few painkillers and, sliding on your robes before grabbing the black leather school bag which rested at the end of your bed.

You exited the room slipping slowly down the stairs before sighing and pushing open the door, greeted by the warmth of the dungeons. You listened to footsteps echo off the walls listening to your heart pound calmly. You let your mind wander, but never too far, you kept it in chains, holding it from dark corners which you wished would fall away.

You accened a stairwell enjoying the soft hum of the changing steps and the murmurs of the portraits which surrounded you.

You walked a few more steps before pushing open a heavy wooden door to be greeted by five pairs of eyes.

The first you locked with were a deep grey, silver almost seeming to swirl within them. Your mind filled with memories of searches and hiding, pinning and secrets, hearts thumping, blush rising.

They left your thoughts as quickly as they flooded them. Your heart thumped its usual slow pace, no change taking place.

“Ms. Y/l/n, nice of you to show up.” McGonagall snipped glancing at a clock which read five-o-five. Five minutes late.

“It was nice of me to show up, you should be thankful.” You spoke back, your headache seeming to remerge.

You heard a pair of sneakers and felt a glare on you, but you refused to look down at the boys who sat at the tables in front of you.

“You should be thankful I don't have you expelled.” She wiped.

You nodded and took a seat at one of the tables in the back, you felt the boy's eyes follow you, you could hear whispers being exchanged.

“Well, I hope you all like paperwork because you will be organizing it for the next three hours,” McGonnagle spoke earning a groan from James who sat in front of you. She waved her wand and papers appeared on each of your desks, most were disciplinary forms. Some papers you didn't quite feel like reading and some were littered with spells and charms. You reached for your wand, only to have it ripped from your hand.

“No magic.” The woman in front of you smirked almost as if she enjoyed your pain.

“Give me my wand back.” you hissed.

She didn't follow her orders and instead examined the wand with intense criticism, “Hawthorn?” she asked.

You replied with a curt nod.

“Core?”

“Dragon heartstring.” You snarled missing the feeling of its rough wood in your hand.

“Very nice.” was all the professor said before setting it gently back onto your desk. “Wand away Potter!”

You glared at the papers in front of you, the harsh black against pure white hurting your eyes. You leaned your head down hiding your eyes in the crook of your elbow, attempting to stop the pounding of your head by cowering from the light. You slowly let yourself be immersed back into black.

You stifled a giggle, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you clamped your hand over your mouth. You were enveloped in blackness, the only visible light was sliding through a small sliver at your feet before it spread like a bird’s wings until it stretched too thin and disappeared.

You felt another giggle rise in your throat. You were tempted to shed the uncomfortable dress you wore, but you didn't want your mother to scold you again. You choked back laughter as footsteps grew louder dress shoes on polished granite sounding loudly in your ears. You could feel a broom handle digging into your back, your heart now thumped so loudly against your rib cage you were sure that the boy outside could hear it, and maybe he could.

The door whipped open, blinding you with light as you let out a small shriek hiding behind your hands before peaking through them and seeing a deep, swirling grey.

You awoke with a start, your eyes met grey once again and you stifled a light shout.

“You awake y/l/n?” Sirius asked with a small smirk.

“No.” You answered turning away from the boy.

He chuckled a dark rich sound, “Well you might want to change that, we’ve got class in four minutes.”

“Fuck.” You mumbled turning back to him. You watched as his eyes sparkled in a godly way, his silky hair falling from behind his ear, his milky skin uninterrupted by blemishes. Your heart thumped its lazy beat, almost bored.

“You coming?” He asked moving away from you to gather his stuff. You nodded, although you weren't quite sure where you were going.

You gather your things and trailed slowly after the boy who waited for you at the door.

“I've missed you y/l/n, we haven’t spoken in so long.” Sirius spoke and you felt as if you were finally jolted awake.

“You did?” Your voice was filled with doubt and menace.

“Of course, we were great friends as kids, how could I not?” He smiled at you.

Something changed, your heartbeat stuttered, your breaths quickened and you felt yourself falling, so slowly, like the hero in an action movie, you just hopped cupid had just as terrible aim as the villains always did.

You struggled to keep your eyelid’s incredible weight up. You felt your mind nod into darkness before you snapped your head back to attention, Flitwick’s high voice echoing in and out of your head. You finally gave up and let your head fall back onto your arm, your hair spilling onto the desk as you let the world disappear behind you.

You woke in a dark cold room you recognized far too well. The echoing of heels on marble floors ringing in your ears. You could feel the dress you wore scratching the back of your neck as the large earrings poked through you snagged in your hair. You looked across the table and met the face of a tall woman, her smokey black hair pulled into such a tight bun you almost thought it would rip the skin from her scalp. Your small hands grasped a fork, you suddenly felt a sharp hiss of pain and you bit back a whimper glancing at your mother who glared at you her wand clutched under her skirt, ready to perform another act of punishment. You set down the fork you held and grasp the one to its left earning a small nod of approval.

You glanced to your right to meet the softness of pillowing grey eyes. You felt your heart thump loudly as the small boy reached for your hand under the table, grasping it and giving it a small squeeze. You bite your tongue as false laughter surrounded you, the soft tinkle of silverware hitting china running in the cold dining hall, the chandelier above you sending an icy light through the area.

Yet you felt warmth on your cheeks and in your hand as the boy next you held you. You wished to tell him, you hoped for him to tell you something in return, but it was secret you knew you would die with because as your mother said, you're ten years old now, you aren't children anymore. You don't have time for feelings. You have obligations to meet.

You jolted awake groaning slightly as a sharp pain spread from your shin, you glared at the girl next to you who only returned the favor.

Suddenly a voice greeted your ears, it was sharp and high making you cringe.

"Ms. Y/l/n!" Flitwick repeated, although the first attempts to gain your attention went unheard.

"Yes, professor?" You droned.

"What is the answer?" He spoke harshly.

"Ummm," you glanced at the board in hopes of seeing some hints for the riddle you were just handed. None were found, your heart remained calm, it’s beat steady and smooth as it always was.

With slight desperation in your eyes you glanced across the room and found two storms of grey. Your eyes trailed down to his lips which moved slowly, the word they were speaking exaggerated.

"Portus." You spoke suddenly glancing at your teacher, "The answer is Portus."

Flitwick’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing suspiciously.

Your lips twitched into a cheeky grin, challenging the professor in front of you.

"That is correct." He spoke slowly.

Your smile widened, you glanced across to Sirius mouthing a thanks. He winked back unfazed.

You felt your heart flip as he looked your way. Its steady beat was interrupted and it was sent into a frenzy as you glanced back down at your hands, laying your head back onto your desk

The next day you awoke with the same sense of dread you seemed to hold every moment you weren't asleep.

You slowly made your way to McGonagall's room, never quite waking, eyes half-lidded.

You came to the same seat you occupied the day before and glared down at the papers in front of you.

You yawned, eyes snapping shut as your mouth widened. When your lids parted again you were met with a cheeky smile.

"Sirius." You greeted lazily.

"I think I'll sit here today." He responded setting his bag down on the opposite side of your table.

Your heart snapped aggressively, "You can't."

"Why not?" Sirius asked almost looking hurt, almost.

Your mind went blank, reasons evading you as your head began to ache, "There's no chair."

"Well, I can change that." He shrugged walking to the table he had occupied the day before grasping the chair it held and dragging it noisily back to his original position.

You winced at the sharp sound the legs emitted on the classroom's floors, "Can't you pick it up?" You growled.

He rolled his eyes playfully lifting the chair above his head and walking back in front of you, "Better?" He asked before dropping in onto the ground.

"No." You pouted slightly.

Sirius' smile widened largely, "You're really cute ya' know."

Your heart leaped uncontrollably.

"You always have been, even when you were little, you were always so adorable."

You felt your cheeks heat, your breaths becoming irregular, "Shut up."

"Are you blushing?" He teased bringing his finger up and poking your cheek.

You swatted his hand away biting back a smile, "No."

"Are you sure?" He jeered.

"Positive." You grinned sarcastically.

You attempted to focus on sorting the papers in front of you, but it was practically impossible when you could feel Sirius' eyes boring into you.

You snapped your head upwards, "What?"

Sirius only smiled back, "You should come to Hogsmeade with me."

"What." You repeated, eyes wide.

"Ya' know, the village with all the shops and things." He explained

"I know what Hogsmeade is you moron." You said back, heart beating irregularly.

"Yeah well you should come, James, Remus, and Peter will be there. And Lily if she gets over the whole poly juice thing." He shrugged.

Your heart slowed back to a normal pace, "What is the poly j?- you know what, I'm not even gonna ask." You cut yourself off.

"So will you come?" He asked voice inflated with hope.

You bit your lip, "I don't know, I mean Lily and I aren't exactly best buds."

"Come on y/n/n, for me?" Sirius pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in a pitiful pout.

You ignored your heartbeat growing loud and sighed, "Fine."

He let out a little yelp of happiness, earning a glare from McGonagall, "I swear you won’t regret it."

"I better not."

As you made your way to your first class your momentary happiness was interrupted by a certain brunette.

"Y/l/n!" Mulciber shouted through the halls running towards you.

You wondered if you could make a break for it, but before you could decide his hand was on your shoulder spinning you around.

“Yes, Mulciber?” You asked in a deflated sigh.

“I saw you weren't at breakfast and I didn’t want you to go hungry.” He smiled holding out a blueberry muffin.

You knitted your brows in confusion reaching out for the muffin, “Umm thanks.”

“Yeah of course.” He said back, “Do you want me to carry those?” he gestured to the books tucked under your arm.

“Sure.” You shrugged passing him the books and beginning to nibble on the baked good he brought you.

“Where are you headed?” he asked trailing behind you as you began to walk down the corridor.

“I’ve got Herbology. You don't have to follow me all the way down to the greenhouses though.” You glanced back over your shoulder eyes narrowed, you were still suspicious of the boy’s actions.

“It's no problem.” He smiled happily catching up to you.

You suddenly stopped in your tracks causing the boy to come to a skidding halt, “Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?” you asked, never one to beat around the bush; your mother always told you it was a sign of weakness to be indirect anyway.

His face grew a bit red, “Umm, I just, ya know.”

“I don't know.” You cut in.

“I just think your kinda cute and I don't know, I thought maybe you might finally start paying attention to me.” He spoke scratching the back of his neck, his golden eyes refused to meet yours.

“You’re lying.” You smirked. “I'm not an idiot Mulciber, I don't know what you’re playing at, but I will find out and you will regret it, you can be sure of that.”

The boy’s eyes widened he opened his mouth to speak but before he could you had snatched your books back from him and dropped the muffin to the ground, stepping on it as you continue your way to class.

As the week continued getting out of bed seemed to get easier. Your eyelids lost some of the pounds they seemed to be carrying and your heartbeat never felt the same. It jumped unpredictably, sped to inhuman rates and stopped abruptly. Your thoughts filled with those of black hair and leather jackets. The smell of fresh pine and chocolate clouded your dreams, grey eyes were all that you could see. You wished you had disregarded the schoolgirl crush you had for the eldest Black brother but it only seemed to grow stronger and stronger, from infatuation to true feelings.

You went to Hogsmeade, despite everything in your body telling you not to, and it wasn't half as bad as you predicted. Lily was shooting you glares - no doubt because of what you did to her dear friend and darling Marlen Mckinnon - but no one else seemed to have a problem with you, although Peter seemed a bit scared of you.

By the end of the month, you began to look forward to your detention. You got just about nothing done but the conversations with Sirius were endless. You reminisced over the awful dress robes his mother insisted he wore and argued over which quidditch team was superior. You laughed more than you had in far too long. You suddenly felt alive again. It was as if the boy you now fantasized about had finally showed you what existing was for.

You felt the dew soaking through your robes as it numbed your toes and wet your hands as your fingers danced in the grass. You heard a slight grunt as Sirius plopped into the green beside you, your shoulders brushing as your heartbeat sped. You tore your gaze from the boy beside you and glanced up at the sky.

A small gasp left your mouth as you stared up at the stars in awe. Your lips stayed parted as your eyes traced the heavenly body above you. You just stared. You might have laid there for a minute, for ten, for an hour, you didn't know and you didn't care. You could have stayed, sprawled in that field for the rest of your life as you stared into the stars, tracing the constellations, disappearing into the universe above you.

“It’s beautiful.” You sighed out in a dreamy haze.

“Not as beautiful as you are.” Sirius commented causing your cheeks to flush as you turned your head to meet his gaze.

“That was a really cheesy line Black.” You smirked, “You sound like you're in some terrible rom-com.”

“You make me feel like I’m in some terrible rom-com.” He sighed, staring at you in a way you couldn't quite comprehend.

“That was just as bad.” You giggled.

Sirius disregarded you comment leaning close to you, you could feel your heart pumping uncontrollably. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his breath fanning directly over your nose.

You nodded slowly and without another warning, his lips were on yours. They brushed your own hesitantly as his hands found your waist. You felt your hands creep up to his hair tugging on it lightly. Sirius released a small moan and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue past his lips as you tasted butterbeer and mint.

You broke away blushing harshly, your lips swollen, light gasps pulling from you.

“I think I might be in love with you,” You whispered scared if you raised your voice anymore you would break the spell the two of you had been placed under.

Sirius only stared back a you and reconnected your lips.

The next morning you woke with a smile for the first time in ages. You practically leaped out of bed dressing quietly.

“You look dazzling today as usual y/n.” Sirius winked when you arrived at the classroom

“Only for you.” You respond as your heart stuttered in your chest.

The hours passed in haze and you soon departed to potions. On your way, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned on see Avery who had been becoming slowly more and more kind over the past few weeks.

“Avery. How are you?” You asked continuing to your class.

“I'm alright.” He shrugged “How about you?”

“I’m great.” You smiled as the two of you continued to potions.

Once seated in the class you made a decent effort to pay attention to what Slughorn was speaking about but you couldn't seem to focus on anything, your mind wandered to the texture of Sirius’s lips, the taste he held, the way his hands felt on your waist.

You glanced to were Avery was seated, seeing a numbered sheet of paper and catching a glimpse of your name at the bottom before it was torn from your view.

“What is that Avery?” You asked him quietly.

“What was what?” He responded.

“Don't play dumb with me, I am not an idiot.” You hissed, your hand gripping his arm harshly.

He whimpered sliding the paper over to you hesitantly.

You opened the parchment your eyes scanning the list of names, but seeing yours on there wasn't what hurt. When you saw another's scrawled at the top your heart stopped.

“No.” You whimpered, your throat tightening as your world spun.

You stood abruptly, knocking your knees on the desk in front of you, moving the things on it, one jar falling to the ground and shattering.

“Ms. y/l/n?” Slughorn asked hesitantly, the entire class watched you in a mixture of fear and curiosity.

A wrecked sob left your lips tearing from your throat as your eyes welled with tears, “No!” You shrieked a sharp noise that made those around you wince. You darted from the classroom without another word, collapsing into sobs before you could even reach your common room. Your head began to throb as cries tore from your mouth, you could taste salt as you sunk to the ground.

You slowly regain your footing and stubbled up the stairs, sobs still echoing around you, your throat becoming raw.

Just as you reached the corridor you were looking for classes were released and students flooded the hallways, you didn't bother with anyone, not caring about one pair of eyes on you.

When you saw him your heart halted altogether. He was a masterpiece, his hair shining in the light as his teeth flashed a dazzling white. You wanted to tear him open, rip him to shreds.

His gaze met yours and softened. You didn't speak a word to him, snatching his wrist and dragging him away, you didn't pay any mind to his protests as you dragged him into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind you.

“Y/n/n wh-”

“Thirty points.” You choked out. “I’m worth thirty points.”

His eyes widened mouth falling open to speak.

“I’m impressed, Black.” You laughed darkly tears spilling down your cheeks like hot raindrops. “I truly am, you managed to trick me, you managed to seduce the cold-hearted bitch of a Slytherin right?”

“Y/n, I don't know what to say.” He spoke slowly.

“Say you love me.” You hiccupped.

“You know I can't do that.” He said as you bit your bottom lip in attempts to keep it from quivering.

“Then get away from me.” You spat like venom.

He turned and left without another word and you collapsed to the ground, your nails digging into your wrist.

You lay on the ground for hours, silent tears spilling down your cheeks, wishing your heartbeat would stop forever.

Part 2

Taglist: @accio-rogers @k3nz-doodl3 @roslea @songforhema @wangmangagavroche

#sirius black imagines #sirius black x oc #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius #sirius imagine #harry potter au #harry potter ships #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x05)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 05: Oh no! My Insecurities!

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: one those tropes. one of those sexy sexy tropes

Word Count: what is the science behind wanting to eat so much junk when one has money to spare? I would really like to know so that I can ask my brain how it work without it for sooooo long and then one day decided to go batchit crazy. Maybe I was eating away my insecurities. But then again, when I was anxious I lost weight like anything because I just cuold not bring myself to freaking eat! What is it body and brain?! What makes you crave that dirty dirty foood! *gollum’s voice* tell me you filthy animal!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Tony stood in the kitchenette in front of a mixer, adding in a variety of green vegetables present in front of him, a tune on his lips in the form of a whistle that only stopped when he crossed eyes with the camera.

“Oh, hi! Didn’t see you there! I’m just here making myself an amazing green smoothie. Good for the heart and the head.”

Tony took in a lungful and turned the mixer on with a satisfied sigh leaving him. “What a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

The camera panned out to watch Vision walking into the Lounge, a blank expression painted on his face as he tilted his head to watch Tony at work. “You seem quite chirpy today,” he stated the obvious.

“I am. I have made quite the progress in my therapy and I am beginning to feel so much lighter than I was ever before. Letting go of stuff that worries me, you know. Aah, it feels good to not care about a thing in the world.”

The camera settled on Vision’s face. He blinked and tried to furrow his brows as he had seen everyone else around him do. “So, you no longer care about Y/N?”

The mixer was turned off and the container opened to pour the contents into a glass. Tony chuckled. “Y/N will be fine. Loki is there with her. Carol will be meeting them soon enough. I don’t have to worry about much. I’ll look at the footage once I get time from my mini-vacay I’ll be taking in our backyard. You should come too.”

Vision straightened his head and nodded. “I would love to,” he acknowledged the invitation while taking his potion of the green juice offered by Stark, “and I have to say Barton’s worries were wrong about you.”

“What worries?” Tony asked, a bit disinterested, taking a sip of his smoothie.

“That you would, and I quote, ‘go apeshit when you find out that Y/N dawned the role of Dominatrix seducing Loki to help him escape the clutches of a space sex slave trafficker.”

The glass went away from his lips with one smooth movement of his arms. “Say what now?”

Vision had already drained the glass. “He was referring to the whorehouse they escaped from yesterday. Y/N has quite the talent when it comes to weakening the guards of the male of many space creatures. It is quite extraordinary to witness someone so guarded and introverted like her completely expose her-”

His words are halted by the sound of glass breaking. The camera panned out to watch wide-eyed, visibly in shock Tony looking into a void before turning to meet Vision’s gaze.

“Oh shoot. I accidentally let the glass slip from my hands. Butterfingers,” Tony lied. Like a liar. “Don’t worry, you go ahead. I’ll clean it up.”

A natural shade of worry came over Vision’s face, silently staring at the shattered glass and Tony for a few seconds before seemingly coming to terms with it. “...okay. As I was saying, Y/N has quite the talent when it comes to slowly and tenderly pulling apart, one by one, her-”

The entire batch of vegetables was pushed into the sink and the garbage disposal was turned on, drowning Vision’s words while Tony deadpan looked at the camera.

Vision: Acting skills *blinks at the camera* I was trying to tell Tony about Y/N’s acting skills.

“Tony, are you alright?” Vision asked over the crushing of a fresh carrot being shoved down the sink.

“I’m fine,” Tony stretched his lips in a smile while his eyes never let go of the horror, shoving the biggest gourd from the vegetable pile down the sink to murder it while the camera zoomed in on his disturbing expression, “everything’s fine.”

Vision’s golden pupils contracted as he looked at Tony and then up at the camera.

Vision: *sombre mood**holds a cigar in his hand**looks at a distant void* All these years saving the earth, I think Tony has forgotten the meaning of keeping things light.

*turns at the camera* Hm? Oh, no I am not smoking this. This is for adding an intense effect to the conversation *smiles* Rhodey and Sam taught me that.

The Facility Entrance

One camera looked down from the first floor at the dark skin plump lady entering the facility with Happy, being directed towards the elevator. “Who is she?” The camera swivelled from the stranger disappearing downstairs to a curious Scott bending way more than he should over the railing to get a good look at the stranger. He would have almost tripped over if it weren’t for Rhodey grabbing his pants when he did.

“I was just checking for ants on the roof down-on the uhh ceiling there,” Scott tried to explain himself while trying to sound cool and casual- nothing like a normal human about to fall face-first on the ground floor.

“Yeah, and I was looking for a dumb chimp set free,” Rhodey mocked a laugh before gesturing him towards the lounge.

“I would consider myself more of a Panamanian white-faced Capuchin,” he muttered under his breath as he followed the man.

In the lounge, Vision stirred cream into his cup of coffee while Tony seemingly brooded in front of the flatscreen.

The camera looked at an unaware Tony turning his head from the screen, first at Rhodey and then at the elevator when it dinged at the arrival of the woman.

Tony got up as the woman stepped foot into the lounge, taking in the place around her. “What are you doing here? We didn’t have a session today!” Tony called out with his arms open to display his surprise, his eyes bouncing in question from Happy to Rhodey.

The woman in a Mauve dress handed her coat to Happy while passing a look at the cameras around the lounge along with the company. “I was called by a concerned friend about you having an episode here this morning.”

One of the cameras panned in on Vision taking a sip of his coffee while sharing a look with it before disappearing out of the lounge through a wall as quietly as he had come.

Tony stuttered in shock, unable to get words out of his mouth. “Wh-ha-wh-I did NOT have an episode!”

The woman looked at him with a dead expression, not even blinking. “So you did not force a gourd down the garbage disposal?” she asked in a low pitch, even Scott felt a tingle of horror down his spine.

Tony paused for a second before crossing his arms across his chest. “The gourd was rotten,” he simply stated.

“For sleeping with your daughter?” came another dead snap from the lady, leaving Scott’s jaw on the floor with a muted ‘what’. And Tony’s eyes went wide with rage. “HE DID NOT SLEEP WITH MY DAUGHTER! HE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES HER WITH THE WRONG INTENTION, IT WILL BE HIM INSTEAD OF THAT GOURD IN-” Tony paused to look around the room, realising what he just did.

“Congratulations, Anthony,” the lady exclaimed with not even an ounce of sympathy in her voice, “you just played yourself. Now sit yo ass down before I have to whoop it like the time when you and James broke curfew to go party at night.”

Rhodey gasped in full offence. “Mama, why you gotta bring me in every time he does somethin’ wrong?!”

Scott gasped again, looking right at Rhodey, “She’s your mama?!” The delight on his face and in his high-pitched voice was immeasurable.

“You wanna find out, come sit on the couch next to yo brother,” she replied, pointing at the sofa while she herself took the comfy armchair and got her reading glasses and notebook out of her purse.

Rhodey stood there contemplating for a second before giving a nod. “You’re on your own, Anthony.”

Tony sat down on the couch. “Traitor,” he called out to Rhodey’s figure walking away.

Scott folded his hands in front of him and turned to Mrs Rhodes. “What can I get you, Mrs Rhodes? Tea, coffee, juice, Pina Colada?”

Mrs Rhodes smiled at Scott. “Tea would be nice, darling. Thank you.” And turned back to Tony only to be distracted by the image of you and Lulu sitting in what seemed like a parking lot of some Motel made in modern Egyptian architecture. You stroked Lulu’s hair while he purred when Loki walked out of the entrance towards you.

“We got a room. Come on,” he mentioned before walking towards a patio with you and the rest.

“Is that-” Mrs Rhodes did not say anymore as her eyes still tried to come in terms with what she was seeing.

“A live feed with eight-hour delay coming from one of the cameras they have with them. Javier’s behind the camera. He’s a sweet boy. And that dark-haired beast is Loki,” Tony grumbled under his breath, his eyes never leaving the God on the screen.

“I don’t care about him,” she announced, horrified, “what in the name of Christ is that damn thing walking around with your daughter?!”

Tony looked back at the screen, confused. “That’s Lulu. It’s some cat-like alien she adopted. It’s harmless. All it does is hoot and chirp all day.”

Mrs Rhodes’ eyes went away from the screen to a distant void to contemplate something inside her head. “You daughter. Adopted. An alien.” Turning towards Tony with those judgmental eyes of a mother, she almost sang, “Now, who does that remind me of? Honey-” she called out for Scott without taking her eyes off Tony- “might as well keep a bottle of scotch ready for me.”

Fifteen Minutes Later

The camera was now settled outside the Lounge in the balcony with a sneaky Scott looking inside past Tony and Mrs Rhodes at the flatscreen. He was so engrossed in his OTP’s movements, he did not sense Sam walking down the stairs from the garden-cum-bar on the roof. Sam, on the other hand, looked at the man with pure judgement before settling down on the lounge seat behind the strategically set plants in front of the window. “‘Sup, stalker.”

Scott sighed. “Come up with another name, I can’t hear what they are talking about.”

“Why would you want to hear what Tony and Mrs Rhodes are talking about?”

“No! Not them! Y/N and Loki! Tony kicked me out because he’s having a therapy session. I don’t care what those two are talking about. I want to find out what is going on between those two!”

Sam shrugged. “Use their earphones man,” he pointed at Ana behind the camera, who took two wireless earpieces out of frame before handing it to them.

“...just two people staying at a motel for the night. Not to mention stuck on another planet with no one but each other to trust. Now tell me what is not to your liking here, Tony,” Mrs Rhodes’ voice echoed through the earpieces.

Tony head slumped on the headrest of the sofa as he watched the feed.

You entered the decently spacious room coloured in themes of sandy yellow with patterns of blue halfway on the walls, putting your backpack down on the table in the middle. “Wow! This looks so much more decent for a space Motel,” you appreciated.

Loki dropped the bag he was carrying, almost receiving a wince from you. “Careful! The Hardy boys said half of this stuff is to be handled with care.”

“They are shurikens, tasers and canisters of medicines. I think we’ll be fine, darling. And what is with you adding space to everything you see here?”

You swiped a finger at the window sill, impressed at it having gathered no dust at all. “What should I call it then, space buddy?”

Loki paused before letting loose the slightest smirk. “Learn the names of the places you visit. And the people you meet. And the objects you discover. You never know when it might become handy.”

Mrs Rhodes raised a brow at Tony, who was frustrated at not finding any window to point his fingers at Loki.

“Oh, I never thought about it that way,” you stated, before turning away from the windows view to a beautiful garden outside. “So, who’s taking the couch.”

Javier called dibs by jumping on the couch before anyone of you could say something, leaving you and Loki to look at each other before looking at the lone bed.

"Loki," you sang in a suspicious tone, "there is only one bed."

Both Scott and Tony felt their bodies pause everything to lean a little towards the screen.

Loki too, stood still by the foot of the bed, exactly opposite to you. "The receptionist said she can loan us an extra mattress."

You raised your head and your brows. "Did she now." Taking a casual step towards the edge of the bed you stopped you saw Loki cover the same distance as you. "You know, I have had a looong journey. And a space journey on top of that-" you let your finger run itself over the edge of the white sheet covering the mattress- "not to mention I'm a weak little human. So I should-"

"Before you finish that sentence," Loki interrupted with his raised finger, "might I remind you of the one thing that is keeping you safe in this...space. To fight monsters and horny space young adults-"

"You told me I used 'space' a lot."

"I don't care-” he breathed even before your words ended- “that thing is me. So, as a sign of your gratitude I should-”

Before he could finish the sentence, you jumped over the bed and he followed by a nearly screamed out ‘no!’ in your direction, his entirety landing over you.

There lay both of you, crossed upon each other.

“Ar-Are you seeing this?!” Tony yelled over here, flailing his hands at the flat screen, directing Mrs Rhodes’ gaze at the zero distance between your butt and his body.

“Give me this bed, Loki!!” you declared from under him, your voice almost muffled by the sheets and pillows.

“No, I am having this bed and you can fight me if you want,” Loki announced with his claws in the sheets against the movement of your butt to move him away from you and ultimately from the bed.

While Tony was having a crisis, the camera caught another face outside the lounge window staring at the screen with a dropped jaw and a hand to the heart. Another one stared at that dropped jaw, trying to make sense of it.

“Hey,” Sam called out to Scott before proceeding to poke his arm with a finger, “hey. You okay? You havin’ a stroke? You gotta tell me if you havin’ a stroke. Scott. Scott. Tell me if you havin’ a stroke so I can get up and go. Scott. Sco-”

Sam: *deadpan* Oh my God, he fuckin’ dead.

*silence*

*snickers* *gets out his phone* I gotta text Peter this.

“What am I trying to see here?” Mrs Rhodes finally sighed.

Tony’s face felt like she just punched him in the chest. “What do you mea- that son of a bitch trying to get insufferably close to my daughter!” Tony wheezed and hissed and nearly cried.

“Your daughter doesn’t seem to care,” she laid back into the cosy chair while looking at the screen with keen observation.

You held the edges of the bed frame when Loki tried to pull you away. “NO! MINE!” you yelled, never ready for Loki’s pointed fingers coming to poke you in your waist. The sound that came out of you made Lulu jump from the window sill and hide under the sofa. “DO THAT AGAIN AND I WILL FART IN YOUR STUPID FACE!!”

“Not before I pick you up and chuck you on the lumpy mattress they will send over-ow, you are heavy.”

Loki was already grabbing you by the waist, ready to pull you away from the bed to the chair on the other end. But he was not ready for the work of your hands, pulling away on the bed sheet to twist around and wrap him in it, covering his face entirely. Your action made him move back with some muffled curses, his back banging into the wall, letting you get a headstart on that bed. But that headstart too was made up for thanks to his weirdly long legs, his arms pulling on your legs to get you off that frame you were hanging on to with your life.

Both of you grunted and fought to claim more territory than the other before the eight-hour travel wore both of you down to panting and tapping out of this messed up wrestling game.

“Time out,” you tapped, “time out. Let’s be adults about this.”

Loki nodded, turning on his back to breathe and get up. “Let’s go take a walk. Get some air. We’ll decide when we come back.”

“Cool,” you gulped in some spit to wet your overworked throat, “when we get back and still don’t know what to do, Javi can sleep in the bed and we choose between the sofa and the mattress.”

Javier knocked on the side table to bring your eyes to him. ‘I don’t want anything to do with this’, he signed before tucking his head under a tide-pod shaped cushion, leaving you and Loki to sort this bedroom tussle.

“What is it?”

“Everything?!”

“I cannot help you until you tell me exactly what it is that is making you uncomfortable, Tony.”

“Well, for starters, the very existence of this son of a-”

“Anthony.” The stress on his name followed by the death stare brought Tony to calm him down and slump back into the sofa. He raised his hands before letting them drop in defeat.

“You know I just met her, right? She just walked into my life, Roberta. Well, of course, that walking in part was something I did without letting her in on too many details.”

Roberta raised her brows.

“Okay, fine. I didn’t tell her at all. But then this guy came in at the same time she did. He not only deliberately let out the truth, making her leave, but also got her stuck in the freaking space with him!!”

“Really? How did you take it when you realised she knew?”

“I nearly had a heart attack! I thought she would hate me, never want to talk to me. Would cut all ties and disappear...in a manner of speaking.” Tony picked up the Rubik's cube kept on the side table to play with it while restlessly moving his leg where he sat.

“And did she do that?”

“...no.”

“Was she angry at you? Or Loki?”

“...no. She was worried. Anxious even.”

“Hmm. Have you felt the same kind of resentment for Loki otherwise? Before he got stuck in space?”

Tony looked up at the screen at the camera flies powering up and buzzing about around you and Loki as you headed out to check the rest of the scenery in that beautiful motel. “There was this one time when he went undercover with her. Something I did not approve of. Neither his presence nor hers on that mission.” He lowered his voice to whisper, “didn’t have to pretend they were on a date for something so serious.”

Roberta closed her notebook. “Okay,” she announced, removing her glasses and keeping them aside. “Before we go any further, Tony, I am sure you are aware why you’re being so sensitive about Loki hanging out with your daughter. Aren’t you?”

Tony shrugged. “Yeah. Because he tried to take on earth once. He can’t be trusted.”

“Mm-hmm,” there went that brow up again.

“...what.”

“Because you are trying to be her father,” she declared with a swat of her notebook on his anxious leg, making it stop. “You are trying to be a part of her life like any normal person. But you are being way too overprotective when it comes to Loki.”

“Oh, I am not-”

“Did he not save your life?”

Even if Tony tried, he was unable to form words in contradiction. “Did he not save her life? Twice? He has been living with y’all for a good amount of time now. In that time, has he caused any problem that might have suggested he is not fit to be around your daughter?”

Tony groaned. “He’s a GUY!!! AND A BEAUTIFUL ONE AT THAT!!!”

“And you think your girl is some dumbhead who does not know that?”

Tony never got the chance to answer that. “You think she does not know how much potential for danger that guy has? She is not blind Tony. Neither is she a child you need to watch over twenty-four seven. She is an adult who can take care of herself. What she needs from you is not surveillance but an openness to letting her know that you are there for her even if you were not there before. And if- this is a big if- if Loki ever hurts her, you don’t have to stand there with a banner spelling ‘I told you so’. You have to hug her and protect her. And in the name of whatever Lord it is that you pray to, Tony, you have to stop projecting your guilt like this. Her getting lost in space was not your fault.”

“How did you-I never told you half of these things!”

“I have ways to get it out of people, mister.”

“Rhodey,” Tony hissed.

“No!” Roberta swatted him again, this time on his head. “No one blames you for that incident. Neither should you. You hear me?”

Tony nodded with his lips pressed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So, what is the first thing that you will be doing now?”

Tony clicked his tongue while looking at the flatscreen. “I will...stop making missiles loaded with Loki’s DNA signature designed to blow him up.”

Swat!

“Ow! I’m kidding! Jesus, woman! I will stop guilt-tripping myself and I will stop worrying about Y/N. But that does not mean I will stop working on ways to get her home.”

“And?”

“And...I will be nicer to Loki.”

“Even if he starts dating your daughter?”

“WHYYY would he-” Tony looked at a very serious Roberta looking at him to complete that sentence. “Theoretically. Theoretically, if he starts dating my daughter, I-” he inhaled- “will mind my own business. But you can’t change me in a day. I’ll go after his knees if he does something that directly affects me.”

Roberta clapped her hands together. “Well, we are done for today. We will try some breathing exercises on Thursday along with exploring more of this relentlessness with Loki. Now, go get yo mama some iced tea.”

Tony chuckled at Roberta’s enthusiasm. “Okay. Which one? Peach, lemon, uhh-”

“The one with Long Island in it,” she ended, shifting to the sofa to watch whatever was going on in space. “And bring me some popcorn.”

Motel Galacto-Ra, Eight Hours Earlier

“Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“How are we paying the rent for the night?”

“With our bodies. Ow!”

He chuckled even though his rub hurt from your elbow. "I borrowed some talons from your boyfriends when we left."

You crinkled your brows. "And by borrowed you mean…"

Loki simply shrugged and kept walking through the garden with you. The flowers, some colourful, some transparent to your eye, were in full bloom along the strip of water that flowed from the mountain at the entrance outside.

"Keep me updated on what all is precious on any planet we land, okay? In case I have to barter with someone, you know," you added casually.

Loki smiled at you while you were distracted by the sound of mushing potatoes from your other side. You turned to watch a creature with what looked like boils on his entire body and four arms lean by a lamp post. His green coloured beard hid most of his face but not his beady red eyes looking at you while he grunted. "Lookin' sparkling baby!" He catcalled you, making you mock a disgusted laugh out your lungs.

"Oh my God, there is catcalling even here?" You gasped in whispering tones to your company, continuing to match pace with the God.

“This universe has all sorts of elements, darling,” he sighed, “even the perverted kind.”

“Mmm, I could see that with your old ex-boyfriend in that whorehouse,” you slipped in, watching him watch you from the corner of his eyes. It was hard to keep the giggles in after a few seconds. “Hey, I’m not judging you,” you added, “in fact, I’m in awe. I wish I could have half of that confidence to pull something this big off. You have to teach me. Loki, you have to teach me.”

Before Loki could speak, an eerie whistle came from across the garden. A curvy alien with those Disney-female eyes and tentacles for hairs cooed at Loki. “Look at that fibre making up your limbs. Arrrr! Leave that little thing and come over here, you feisty beast, and I will show those beautiful parts of yours some good time.”

You had to blink yourself to the reality of having to hear those words. Loki ignored it. But the fly cameras could see you didn’t. “He’s more than just a body you space holes! Buzz off!”

An involuntary smile was already coming over his lips, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his lips parted to show his teeth to anyone who was looking. The entire emotion looked so alien yet so beautiful on him. And in the midst of this cheery daze, he opened his pocket dimension to take something out. “Here,” he called out to you softly, bringing forward his hand towards you, “keep this on you.”

Curious and bedazzled by the walnut-sized purple crystal in his hand, you took it with sounds escaping your lungs. “Thanks, Loki. Looks expensive. Wait-” the excitement in your eyes shifting to horror- “is something wrong? Are we not safe here? Are you going to sell your body off to the owner in exchange for the rent? Will I have to find my way back alone? I don’t want this! Let me go talk to the manager.”

“What? NO! Why would you think that?” Loki was truly horrified at the turn it took. “My body would sustain you for your lifetime.”

You thought about it. "Hmm. You would make a good stripper."

"I would make an amazing stripper."

"Ehhh you need a little work though. You didn't do much at Hudson's."

"Hudon. And that's because I was put there against my will. If I wanted I could."

You stared at his unadulterated joy in admitting. "What." Your lips could not stop the smile that was nearly closing your eyes before a snicker left you. "Oh my God, you are so cute," you confessed softly.

Loki tsked and rolled his eyes. "This pendant is for your protection. Keep it close. And take this too."

He opened his pocket dimension again to bring out a small dagger.

"OoooOoooh a KNIFE!" you hissed with excitement in your eyes, going for it while Loki pulled it away from your hands.

"Woah! Calm down, woman! You need to learn how to use it first."

His arm blocking your shoulders did not let yours reach even inches close to the dagger. "Argh! All I need to do is point and stab! Gimme!"

"No. NO! Stop it. You're only getting this when you promise you will use it only in case of emergencies."

You let his arm balance all your weight when you stopped going for the dagger and let your arms dangle on either side. "Ugh. Fine. You can teach me how to use it. Now please give it to me!" When he didn't, you broke into a strong.

"Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, baby!"

Both of you felt a sudden chill in your body. "I don't know why I suddenly miss Clint."

"Me too," Loki added with quite the discomfort on his face.

“Okay. Follow my instructions by the letter and remember- one move too fast or too slow and it can be the end of you.”

The camera in the flies now zoomed in on your dead expression. “Way to start a lesson on a new skill, Professor,” you spewed.

“Now show me how you hold your dagger.”

You showed him. He pressed his lips and kept his hands on his waist. It took a lungful to get him to speak again. “We are not cutting peppers here, Y/N.”

“How about your hair. Can I cut that?” Loki swatted your hands coming for his locks. “Ow!”

He positioned himself behind you, patting the side of your shoulders. “Straighten your back. Come on.” When he saw you taking your sweet time with it, he poked with his finger on one side of your back, making you jolt forwards.

“Hey! It’s straight! My back’s straight. My boobs are out. What more do you want?!”

“Here.” He lifted your right hand with his. The dagger was shifted in your palm by his pale fingers going pink at the end. The hilt was positioned before his fingers curled yours over it. All through it, the distance became a bare minimum; your back touching his chest while your hair tried to tease his face. “The dagger will always stay away from you,” he stated softly with an ounce of seriousness mixed into his voice. “When the enemy is close to you, use this style to slash him. Run it the opposite way-” he directed your arm with his, his hand still around yours- “and when you come back, your turn it to give them one more wound.”

“Cool,” you exclaimed. The glow on your face along with that undiluted smile stuck till your eyes were something else entirely. This was some unadulterated joy you were feeling, learning to play with knives. Loki was watching your face from the side, not really able to digest that rush properly.

Loki: I have never seen anyone so happy to play with daggers. *shakes his head lightly* *smiles at a distant void* *camera zooms out behind him to show you swishing your dagger in the air in the garden while yelling ‘taste the metal of my shuriken, Sasuke! You unfuckable, overrated snake!*

*camera comes back to pan onto Loki’s face with a smile frozen but the eyes reflecting a newfound horror*

“Now, this one is for long-range combat. Always keep your arm straight and gut your enemy like this. Your other arm will help block and push in defence while this one will attack.”

“Ooh!” you whistled, “this one will go stabby stab.”

Loki exhaled. “Yes. That. Come on. Let’s play it out and see how much you have learned.”

You cooed, moving the dagger in between your fingers quite invitingly. “Roleplay. I like it.”

You positioned yourself opposite Loki. “Ready when you are.”

Within two long strides, he closed the distance, his hand coming for your left arm, trying to grab it. You turned against the pull of his force, to arm the dagger right into his back. “Stab. You’re dead,” you declared.

You couldn’t help chuckle out loud at his expression. “What! Natasha taught me a few moves.”

“When?”

“Remember our weekend getaways?”

“Oh,” Loki was impressed. “Again.”

This time he shed a little part of precaution and came for you. You ducked and blocked one dagger coming for you but missed the other. “Stab. You’re hurt,” he stated right before your leg came for his, bringing him down on one knee, allowing you to point your dagger at his defenceless ribcage.

“Stab. One for one,” you smiled.

His arm wrapped around yours, leaving you with no way to use the dagger it held. His other hand came for the fist you were about to throw at him; his toothy grin smack in your face. “Not laughing now-”

The impact of your leg with his crotch was not a clean shot. But it did the job. Loki’s words drowned in the pool of his own groans as he stumbled over you and you hit your back on the ground.

The flies roaming above took an air-shot of Loki’s grousing figure toppled over you while your expressions reflected a wave of embarrassing cringe you were feeling in your gut. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, cautiously patting Loki’s head.

“Natasha teach you that too?” he grunted with curiosity.

“...yeah.” You screwed your eyes shut, never stopping the gentle stroking and patting of his hair. “Your hair smells nice?” you tried the encouraging words.

You: *sorry expression* It was a fluke. I never meant to hurt him…*cringes* *whispers* or his potential babies? *camera pans out to show Loki breathing in and out throw his mouth while bending his legs and repeating it* You need an ice-pa-

Loki: *jumps away from you* Do not come near me.

You: Come on, Loki. *steps closer* It was just bad luck. And a very very lucky shot.

Loki: No. *walks out of the frame* I’m going back.

Motel Room

Javier's face came into focus as he adjusted the lens on his new- much lighter- camera while checking the live feed on his old one before turning the latter off and packing it to keep in his backpack gifted by the Hardy Boys. The view then flipped to you coming out of the shower in a black tank top and matching shorts.

"This is really comfortable. I should have asked the boys to pack me more of this fabric."

Loki sat on the floor with a device that produced a holographic map of the galaxy they were in right now. He shifted the view with a serious look on his face. You paused the little serotonin rush to sit down on the fuzzy carpet with your knees close to your chest. "So, where are we going next?"

A heavy breath was taken in before Loki pinched out to a location. "Knowhere."

"Nowhere?"

"Knowhere. I know someone there who might be able to get these cuffs off me. Once I'm free I can use the magic to teleport us to a safe place, if not back home."

The crinkle of confusion in your brows was something he saw coming. "Teleportation costs a lot. It takes a toll on me. So I have to make sure I have the required tools and energy before we make the leap."

“...oh. So, back when Cassie and I were stuck on the...uh…”

“Oh,” Loki sat up, “that...was a pure adrenaline rush. And it was only for a matter of seconds so it was easy.”

You did not seem convinced by his words. But something else took dominance in your thoughts. “I’m sorry you had to visit that place because of me.”

Loki simply shrugged. “No big deal. I could do it again if I wanted to.”

*somewhere on earth eight hours later, in the Avengers facility, a Scott Lang clutches his chest and winces*

“Come on let’s sleep. I’m tired from all the training.” You got up and made your way to the bed.

“We didn’t decide on who gets the bed yet.”

“Yes we did-” you were already under the covers, the cosiness making you whimper with ecstasy- “we’re both sleeping on the bed. It’s big enough for both of us.”

Loki thought for a moment before walking to the other side of the bed. “Fine by me. But fair warning, a lot of souls will die wailing tonight.”

You adjusted yourself well, nearly drowning in the fluffy blue duvet, over you. “The only thing killing any souls will be my post-travel farts. I’d suggest you get another duvet from the closet.”

The camera panned in on Loki’s face as he began his ritual of taking off his shoes. “You know, I used to think the reason you do not have any suitors for yourself is because of the over protective elements in your family. Now I’m thinking it might have something to do with you and your tendency to oversha-and she’s asleep.”

The camera zoomed out to show you already beginning to snore with your lips parted.

“Yup,” Loki whispered in a defeated sigh.

The Lounge, Night-time on Earth

Tony alone sat on the sofa in front of the flatscreen with all the lights off, drinking chamomile tea. The clock read twelve-thirty and the grounds were silent- except for the noise of video games coming from the Dorms.

Zuko jumped up onto the couch, nudging at Tony’s arm to let him cuddle against the man. Tony, more than happy to open his arm to let the little pupper crawl into the space and settle his head on his thigh, cooed at him. “Hey there, buddy. How are you doing? Miss your mom?”

Zuko looked up to Tony with his pure puppy eyes, making the man shoot a pure smile at him. “Me too, kid,” he sighed, “me too.”

Both of them turned to the screen to watch you and Loki sleep in the same bed. The top angle really did cover everything, though it made Tony wonder how and why did they get such a good angle. Loki’s head rested on one arm while the other rested on his torso above the duvet, still like a log, breathing like a silent river through the woods. You, on the other hand, slept anything but straight. Your body was sprawled all over your side, your legs awry, the duvet slipping down the edge, snoring quite audibly with drool all over your pillow.

“A part of me is glad she has Loki by her side,” he confessed softly to his company, stroking that soft fur with his fingers. “Don’t tell him that.”

There was a stir. Your hands moved. And then your legs. Your brows furrowed and you slowly turned into a fetal position before a whine left your throat.

“Noooo,” you mumbled in your dense, sleepy state, “don’t take me awayyyyy.”

“Huh,” Tony commented, “she sleep talks. Just like her father.” He smirked.

“No!” your voice grew a pitch higher, “don’t let em take me awaaaay.”

Loki was already opening his eyes, his body on alert as he turned his face to watch the tension collecting on your forehead. Up on his one arm, he bent over you; his movement making Tony pause his whole body and perk up Zuko's head at the screen. Only when he grabbed the duvet to come back and put it over you did the two spectators go back to their normal breathing cycle.

You were tucked into the duvet as discreetly as possible before Loki’s hand stroked your hair to calm you down. The little brush of his hand in your hair worked, making you turn and scooch a little closer to him, giving into his soothing touch.

Tony could see the little smile growing on Loki’s lips. “Mother used to do it when I had nightmares. It always worked.”

Once he was content that you no longer were troubled, he receded his hand, turning on his back to look directly at the camera. The serenity on his face added to the lungful of air he took while studying something Tony seemed to have an idea about.

“I know you can watch us, Tony,” Loki began, making Tony’s tensed shoulders drop, “I don’t know how late though. I know it must be killing you to watch your daughter be trapped with a monster like me in some galaxy unreachable. I can only imagine. But I understand if my company does not bode well with you.”

Tony twisted his lips, still stroking Zuko. “You’re right about that.”

“Just to put your mind at ease, I am not interested in anything twisted when it comes to her,” he continued, turning to look at your placid face squished against the pillow, “she’s better than you lot anyways.”

Tony raised a brow at the screen, making the lone camera recording him from the shadows pan in on the confused surprise on his face. “So, you’re saying you made a friend? She’s a friend? Like best buddies or something? Like do you like her?”

Almost as if Loki could read what Tony would say, his calm face turns back to the camera to seem as serious as possible. “She is tolerable. Nothing more.”

“I’m fine with that,” Tony agreed with open arms.

“She’s stronger than I thought,” Loki confessed, letting his head dip into the pillow to look beyond the camera, “I never imagined her to be this composed in such dangerous places. Makes me think she’ll do fine on that dirty old heap of junk crawling with monsters worse than me.”

“Ha ha,” Tony mocked a laugh but kept an eye out to check whether Loki was really playing him or being serious at that moment.

“Well,” Loki turned back to look at the camera, “doesn’t mean I will pass up on any opportunity to make you claw at your skin whenever you see me close to her.” The broader the smirk on his lips, the more Tony could feel a ringing in his whole body.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he whispered at the screen, “you are too high and mighty for such a cheap play.”

Loki’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, that sick smirk still stuck on that wicked face. “I mean, what are friends if not...close. Right?”

Tony paused the stroking again- making Zuko face him and wonder why his good times were being interrupted again.

“Okay Lulu,” Loki called out the camera, that stirred at the name, “get down from there. Sleep somewhere comfortable. Somewhere you do not have me or her in your view.”

The camera shifted, jumped on the carpet, moved in circles before meeting the fuzzy fabric and going dark.

“Yeah, I’m not falling for that,” Tony admitted, chuckling to himself, “like Y/N is ever going to fall for that. She’s smarter than that. I mean, look at her father!”

Zuko did look at your father but with a tilt of his head as if questioning all that Tony just spewed in the disinterested air.

“What,” Tony looked back at the pupper, who tilted his head again, in the other direction, “oh. Is that what you think? That’s it. No more cuddles with me. Go ask someone else for love, you traitor. I’m not buying you any more doggie toys, you stupid pupper. Shoo!”

126 notes · View notes

prophetrick · 3 years

Text

RP Loot-Edible Fruit/Veggies, Part 1

Continuing from the other loot page. Here’s the source link, should anyone need it for their own purposes: X These may be found in a demon/goblin market, or in the spirit world. Yasuhiro may have some familiarity with these. Not all of them, of course.

Bloodroot: A fruit-like root that, when infused like tea, produces a narcotic effect on vampire-like beings. Headcanon: Also works on parasitic-like beings. Sold at high prices at black markets internationally. Cocorange: One fruit has massive seeds are about the same size and shape as a football, with a hard outer shell. They grow in tropical and subtropical climes and contain pulpy, fibrous, citrus flesh that can be eaten raw, squeezed for its juice or cooked. When consumed, it produces a mild intoxication, equivalent to about one shot of liquor. Coralscalp: Harvested from under the waves where a portal to the spirit realm and the ocean meet, one fruit resembles kelp from a distance. Only close inspection reveals it to be made up of long, fine, hair-like fibers. When dried and smoked, this kelp-like fruit bolsters charisma and self-esteem for 12 hours. Afterward, the consumer suffers terrible hallucinations. Headcanon: This can be abated by “appeasing” the plant, but the method for doing so isn’t clearly known. Jarmyn Fruit: A fruit that temporarily negates the effects of fatigue. This can be stacked with each dose, but each dose increases the number of days the consumer will need to shake off the effects. The leaves can be used for the same purpose. Headcanon: “Dose”=small, candy-sized blue, bulbous berries. Jennyapple: Twisted, dark-spotted fruits which grow from a large shrub. When the skin is pierced, it reveals a jennystone inside and produces a foul-smelling liquid that lingers for 24 hours. Jennystones are the hard seeds, incredibly bitter to the taste. Their smell is so foul and so pervasive that anyone capable of smelling within a five-yard diameter is rendered incapable of smell. Headcanon: Highly sought-after for their medicinal properties, rumored to cure maladies related to the stomach, liver, and damage done by supernatural forces. Sells for a high price. Nightcap: Makes the consumer lethargic and halves their speed. Botanists and those with similar experiences can tell the difference between it and its “cousin”, buglewart. Slumberberries: These small, dark green berries are extremely sour, growing on parasitic vines in clumps of 5 or 6. Eaten raw, they cause drowsiness. If the consumer was sleepy to begin with, they will fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Boiled, however, they produce a tea that will cause horrible, vivid nightmares often involving torture or other grievous physical harm. Trenchmint: This cross-breed of coupnettle and pitmoss is a highly invasive, rapidly spreading weed which appears as a delicate-stemmed plant with curling violet leaves. Walking through it releases a sharp, minty odor which will cost the consumer some willpower but will grant them an increase in a mental skill the consumer was thinking about at the time, or a random mental skill of the mun’s choosing. When the effects of the trenchmint wear off, the muse is lethargic. Doubly so if sloth is one of the muse’s vices. Bloodbane: A pale yellow lichen that tends to grow in damp conditions, it can be dried and ground and then mixed in with other foods. Bloodbane prevents the blood from clotting as it should, a single dose causing stomach cramps or minor internal bleeding for 24 hours. Consumed more than once, it prevents bone marrow from producing new blood and will cause massive internal hemorrhaging. Flour-Of-One-Hour/Tiger Mallow: Appearing in hot, humid areas of the hedge, this tropical-looking flower looks first like a thistle before unfolding into a black, trumpet-shaped bloom with a fiery center. It blooms for only one hour each day, but not on any sort of a predictable schedule. Those with at least some skill in botany may brew it into a tea during its blooming time that has a fiery quality that makes the skin feel sunburned and inflames passions and, when drunk, allows the character to proficiency to physical strength or stamina for an hour. If more is consumed they feel drained and suffer lethargy until they have slept for 8 full hours. If drunk after the hour has passed, it has a chilling effect and tastes of anise. Fuguespores: These brown spores grow on the briars of the hedge and when ingested they grow inside the intestines, pushing through internal walls and releasing toxins into the blood. Over time, the target develops hallucinations and/or dizzy spells. The fungus is capable of spreading into the body, and if it takes root in the brain it will destroy the character's memories and leave him in a fugue state, sometimes leading to a coma or permanent brain damage. Serpent Gourd: A long gourd with a shiny black exterior, serpent gourd grows high up on tangled, woody vines spiked with cruel thorns as long as a man's finger and is thus extremely difficult to harvest. When split open, its white flesh comes apart in ropy-strands. If boiled with a fistful of its own thorns, then strained, it produces a clear, syrupy fluid with a bitter taste which affords the consumer some skill in dream divination. Headcanon: While the effects are temporary, continued exposure may leave the consumer unable to distinguish between reality, the spirit realm and their visions. Can become addictive. Not recommended in large quantities. Amaranthine: Small, red eggplant-like plant. Used to deal damage dealt by supernatural forces. Chu Chu Clum: Growing in grassland areas of the the spirit world, the stalks of this bamboo-like grass are filled with a blood-red liquid that tastes of sour limes. Potently intoxicating, a half a teaspoon is enough to cause extreme intoxication, making the consumer happily drunk. For the next hour the consumer is more adept in social settings, but suffers a noticeable detriment to their dexterity and intelligence. Cousin's Trumpet: A scentless, yellow, trumpet-shaped flower growing in jungle-like areas of the spirit world, when steeped as a tea in the human world it has a potent hallucinogenic effect. The consumer who partakes of such tea experiences powerful hallucinations that extend to most all the senses for an hour, generally (but not always) feeling euphoric and one with universe, during which the consumer is subject to their physical skills being diminished; when the effect ends,the consumer recovers some small measure of resolve. Consuming the tea within the spirit world does not cause hallucinations, but instead increases their psychoactive control of the supernatural and astral. Fear Gortach ("Hungry Grass"): Makes the consumer famished, but will only only crave the fruit. Glutinous characters will be have a harder time shaking off the effects of this fruit. Headcanon: Effects typically last for an hour. Judas Yew Berries: Growing in spirit deserts, the small red berries of the Judas Yew tree are poisonous, causing a some lethal damage which cannot be avoided. However, this allows the consumer to go three times as long without food or drink with no further ill effect. Nevernip: A hybrid of blushberries and Fear Gortach and appearing as purple berries, they heal but cause the same insatiable hunger for them that Hungry Grass does. If the consumer has eaten Nevernip or Hungry Grass in the past, they will have to hold themselves back from eating more nevernip. Glutinous characters will be have a harder time shaking off the effects of this fruit. Pitt Moss: Resembles rubbed sage and has a pungent taste. When consumed in large quantities, it causes overwhelming sloth. When consumed fresh from the field, it causes crippling boredom in the consumer. Babel Gum: A lichen-like growth in urban areas of the hedge, babel gum tastes of anise and has the texture of a dried-out marshmallow. Chewing on babel gum prevents the character from reading or making heads or tails of any written word, but allows them to understand any language spoken around them. The effects last for one day.. Bloodapple: Shaped like a slightly distorted apple of deep crimson splotched with reddish-purple, its tough skin hides cloyingly sweet, juicy flesh the color of fresh blood with a tight, pit-like cluster of seeds at its center. Consuming a bloodapple changes one point of supernatural damage to lethal damage, though the consumer may only benefit from this once per day.

#pthc #idea seeds for rp

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter twenty-two: sticks and stones

Marla had run back home for a few moments so she could change into her witch's robe but for the time being Sam, Aurora, and Belinda gathered on the far side of the room with Cliff, Frank, and a couple of Bloody Maries. Belinda adjusted the threads on her white dress with those blue scissors while in their art class, but she still managed to look like a doll as she had originally imagined. Sam glanced about the room in search of Marla and Charlie somewhere on the floor.

The interior of L'Amour had been decorated with shiny black and orange garlands. Clusters of little orange and white gourds hung all along the bar behind them. Orange and dark yellow lights shone down upon their heads, but every so often, they switched over to a soft purple. The whole room smelled of pepper courtesy of the Bloody Maries and cinnamon courtesy of a series of scented candles behind the bar to keep the place from reeking of alcohol and God knew what else. Every whiff of the cinnamon made Sam think of the cup of hot chocolate she made for Cliff and she knew she would have to make more of those for him following that night.

“It's gonna be a bit before they're coming back, though,” Frank told her at one point: his lush dark hair brushed over his shoulders like the ears of a dog. He awaited Charlie and the black and white Kiss face paint, given he already had a low cut white shirt on and extra tight black leather jeans as well as high heeled black boots which made him appear taller than he had originally appeared before.

But then the Cherry Suicides took to the stage in their black pointed witch hats: Zelda ducked behind her drum kit with her hat off kilter on her head. Sam noticed that was the only thing she had on to even remotely resemble to a witch's costume.

“Consider yourselves lucky, New York City,” Morgan announced into the microphone; Sam noticed she had on bright pearly orange lip gloss on her dark lips painted on in stripes so it looked like she had caterpillars on her mouth, “we've got a series of new songs in honor of this show here tonight. We haven't even debuted these back home in Rhode Island! The first one was helped on by a woman—you may've heard of her, she's more batshit insane than we are. Her name is Wendy O Williams.”

Frank yelped out at the sound of her name.

“It's called 'Scream for Me'!”

Zelda tapped on the cymbal closest to her so it made a noise akin to a bell. And they were all met with an intense wall of sound courtesy of Rosita and Minerva; Zelda's hat stayed in place atop her head as she pounded away as if she was a blacksmith swinging her hammer. Morgan brought the head of the microphone close to her striped lips: the first notes out of her mouth were low and harsh, but strong and tight.

“Morgan really upped her scream game, didn't she?” Cliff said to Frank.

“Yeah, she did!” Frank brought his glass of Bloody Mary close to his mouth but he never took a sip.

Belinda gaped at what she saw before her. Her eyes were wide with amazement, and she held onto her skirt as if she was stepping over a puddle. Sam and Aurora glanced at one another. A Halloween show needed a girl who could scream on a song of revenge like it meant business. Not a girl who was under the knife, but rather she was giving the knife to someone who asked for it.

Sam glanced over to the left side of the room, to Louie, who stood next to the side doors wrapped in a heavy black coat with a big hood upon his head. She spotted something shiny and pointed behind him—a bit triangular point upon a long dark pole. And she realized he was Death, and he could prance around with that thing and take under one of the souls before them at any given moment. He flexed his fingers and she noticed some white markings on the back of his hand: even from a distance, she could tell those were bones. Skeleton gloves for a good costume!

“There's Marla!” Aurora pointed out, and Sam and Belinda turned their attention to the right side of the room.

Indeed, they recognized Marla's violet hair on the far side of the room. Right before her was Charlie and his head of thick dark curls, and it took Sam a second to realize they were slow dancing to the music. Such a morbid song about killing someone for fun and then eating them and yet they danced as if it was a simple waltz instead. Charlie twirled her as Zelda unleashed a drum solo which followed Morgan's last powerful screech. A drum solo followed by a short picking guitar solo courtesy of Minerva and her big floppy witch's hat.

A guy in front of them punched another person in the face and Belinda lunged back at the sight of it, but Cliff and Frank laughed out loud at that.

The Cherry Suicides played another new song, called “Broomsticks”, followed by another one called “Bitches' Brew” and another one called “Dia de Los Muertos”, the latter of which Morgan let Rosita sing and in Spanish to boot. The whole entire time, Zelda never lost her pointed witch hat even as she played at a quick pace.

Charlie let go of Marla at one point and she disappeared behind the bar for something. She returned to their side with a series of what resembled to little white pearls on either of her hands, and she handed one of each to Belinda, then Sam and Aurora: Sam held up the pearls to the violet light for a better look at the little dots on the sides. Little skulls of different colors.

“Of course, Day of the Dead!” Aurora proclaimed as she threw the necklace over her head. Belinda and Sam followed suit.

“They're candy!” Frank added as Marla took the black and white make up out of her purse.

“I dunno if you'd wanna eat them, though,” she pointed out. “At least, that was what Charlie told me. But they're for Day of the Dead, though!”

The violet lights gave way to the golden and amber ones but Marla was only able to paint a black and white star on the side of Frank's face. Indeed, the next new song the Cherry Suicides debuted was called “White Star” and the four of them sang in unison. Even with her being seated behind the drum kit, Sam wished she could hear more of Zelda's singing voice. She yelled during the chorus but her voice carried enough to where she wondered if she could sing something to exemplify her voice.

By nine o'clock, they had finished up their Halloween set and Zelda chucked a handful of candy to the audience. Marla waved at her and she pointed in her direction. The four girls disappeared behind the curtain on the side there and the amber lights returned to their rich deep violet.

“It's okay, Charlie didn't get the make up on either,” Marla assured Frank, whose face fell when he realized he missed the full make up. “There's always a Day of the Dead celebration for later, though. We can do that tonight if you wish. Halloween into the Day of the Dead. Have it all as part of Samhain.”

“True. But it's still Halloween, though, Marla.”

Sam turned her attention to Cliff, who sipped on the remainder of his Bloody Mary. She thought about their little potential trip back out West to visit each other's parents, and she hoped they could do it on what money they had.

She then felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around: Zelda stood behind her with her witch hat still off kilter upon her head and with a handful of salt water taffies held out before her.

“Ooh, yes please!” said Sam as she took the bright pink one for herself. Cliff meanwhile took the dark brown one.

“Root beer,” he noted while he unwrapped the piece of taffy. “You ever been to Virginia City?”

“Me?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Not since I was little, no.”

“Maybe when you and I go visit our parents in a couple of months, we can go there for a day or something.”

“Ooh, yes! Sounds like a plan.”

“Just looking at these taffies made me think of Virginia City and the candy shop there.” Cliff slipped the taffy into his mouth and he squinted his eyes from the contrast of taste, between the root beer and the tomato juice. Sam giggled at him as did Belinda and Aurora, but he took it in stride. A Legacy show plus a meeting with her parents as well as his, and then a trip to Virginia City. It was all something to bear in mind even as Cliff returned home to California in time for Day of the Dead itself, and the whole prospect of the trip remained firmly on Sam's mind for a whole two weeks until she crossed paths with Joey on the way home from school one afternoon.

The sun hung low over the school buildings with the heart of autumn and Sam was sure she had failed her midterm for art history. She had no idea what had happened in that last week: her memory had fallen short with the exact art movements and Bill seemed to scrutinize her every move. It didn't help matters that he was still her counselor for that whole year, either.

She walked out through the front door only to be met with little snow flurries and that head of jet black curls near the curb.

“Hey, Joey,” she greeted him, complete with a nervous smile. “What're you doing here?”

“I had to ask around a little bit 'cause I couldn't fully recall your schedule,” he started as she descended the stairs, “but I just haven't seen ya in a while.”

“Not since the album was released,” she told him as she adjusted the lapels of her jacket.

“Yeah, and we go on tour soon, too,” he added.

“Already?” she asked him as she remembered Thanksgiving was only a week away.

“Yeah. You put out an album and it's necessary to promote it, too. So I wanted to see ya before those big things happen soon.”

Joey huddled closer to her as they walked side by side to the corner: the faded soles of his black leather boots crunched on the fresh fallen snow all around them.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he offered her.

“I'd love that,” she said as they glanced in either direction of the snowy street. The flurries had started a mere few minutes ago and yet the New York streets were already a rich shade of off white. Over them stood a blanket of darkness held up by the skyscrapers and the scraggly dark trees, made dark with the incoming winter. He lingered closer to her as he led her across the pavement to one of the coffee shops on the other side.

Once they were safe and sound in that dry warmth, Joey turned to her with his brown eyes large and soft like a couple of chocolate drops.

“It's like that one night all over again,” he recalled, “the night we saw Legacy together down at L'Amour.”

“I know, right? Except this time, it's actually almost winter.” He turned his head to the counter behind him.

“Coffee and cake,” he said.

“Coffee and cake?”

“Coffee and cake.” He gestured back to the cake pops near the cash register.

“Oh, cake!” And Joey chuckled in response to that. They took a seat by the window as it began to frost over with the increasing snow.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked her in a low voice.

“Of course.”

“There's a part of me that wants to start playing hockey again,” he said as he ran his gloved fingers through his thick black curls.

“And?” She shook her head.

“Well, I think it'd interfere with touring and doing stuff with Anthrax.”

“And why are you telling me this?” she asked him.

“'Cause I showed you my hockey stuff. I've been trying to do that with the guys but they seem more interested in what goes on down here in the City than what I might have in store.”

Sam knitted her eyebrows together at that.

“Have you asked them about it?” she coaxed him.

“Yeah, I've told Frankie about it 'cause he's the other athlete here with his baseball and everything. But I haven't really heard much, though.”

“Maybe we can do another round of hockey again,” she offered him. “Like just you and me again.”

“Oh, yeah, do that for real!” he said and his face lit up. “We can do that before we go on tour with Metallica this March.”

She gasped at that. Cliff never mentioned them when he told her about it!

“You guys are all going on tour together?” she sputtered.

“Yeah!” He stopped in his tracks. “Wait. You didn't know that?”

“No!”

“Oh, damn.” Despite his dark sun kissed skin, a soft warm blush bloomed across his face. “Well—I don't think I was supposed to tell you that, but—you are a friend to us. We told you about Spreading the Disease while it was still in early production after all.”

“And now I do know!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, and you should definitely come along if you can, too—you and the girls.” He stood to his feet to fetch their cups of coffee. She kept her eyes fixed on Joey's slender body, made even more slender and elegant by his fitted black overcoat and his black jeans. Cliff never said anything about their touring with another band, let alone them, but she nodded her head at that. He did ask her to come along, too: there was no way she could hold onto that. And there was no way she could hold onto that when she had other things to worry about, like her art history midterm.

A few more things to worry about as well as her trip out to the West Coast. She knew that if Cliff would leave out details, she could leave out details herself: it only made sense to her. Joey soon returned to the table with the cups of coffee in either hand and a pair of cake pops in between her fingers. No sooner had he taken his seat again, his expression turned serious.

“By the way—referring back to the question I brought up to you back on birthday.”

“Oh, that!”

“Yeah. So—again, take all the time in the world if you still haven't thought of anything. But—have you, though?”

“Yes,” she replied with haste, such that it took him aback.

“Really?”

“Yes. I'll share it. I'll share that full body drawing. I promise.”

Joey hesitated for a second, but then he picked up the little red cup and raised it up in between their faces. Sam picked up her cup as well and they tapped the edges together. They took sips from their espressos at the same time.

“So late March?” she asked him as she held her cup with both hands around the base.

“Yeah. So we can do the thing with the hockey any time between now and then.”

“What're you doing for Thanksgiving? I only have that Thursday and Friday off but it's still days off, though.”

“Goin' to visit my aunt and uncle in Rochester. What're you doing for Christmas?”

“Going to visit my parents back out West.”

“Oh, shit. So—how 'bout some time after New Year's?”

“Sounds like a plan.” She raised her cup again and they gave each other another toast of the red coffee cups, and they took a drink in unison once again.

“Mind if I walk ya home?” he asked her as he pocketed two of the four cake pops into his coat pockets.

“Not at all. I have homework, anyways.”

“Alright, let's get a move on...”

Without another word, Joey and Sam took the subway back up to the Bronx. She offered to let him sleep in her apartment again but he assured her it was alright for him to head on back upstate that evening.

* * * * *

It was a whole five days before Christmas and Cliff bunked with her that weekend before they made the flight out to Reno. They were going to visit her parents first in Carson City, followed by his parents in the Bay Area. She had packed her things over Thanksgiving break, including her journal, her good pencils, her colored pencils, and some of her paints. She knew she would have to make something for her parents for Christmas. Add to this, it was a difficult task for her, but she managed to tell her parents about Cliff over the phone.

“He's from California, too,” she added to Ruben. “So he's gonna introduce me to his parents.”

“We'll be waiting for you kids, though,” he promised her.

Meanwhile, Cliff had called a cab for them the day before their flight, and thus, by the time she locked the door and told Emile where they were going, he stood out in the snow in anticipation. As she ducked out of Emile's apartment, she recognized Aurora's purple jacket on the back of his couch. She made a mental note to ask her what was going on by the time she returned home.

Sam bowed out to the street, where Cliff awaited her with their suitcases on the cleared out sidewalk and the big yellow taxi posted up at the curb.

“Are you ready?” he asked her once she came within earshot.

“I was born ready,” she replied as she picked up her bags from the sidewalk and Cliff offered to take them from her. Sam handed the one in her right hand and he set it into the trunk of the taxi. She knew Aurora was back in Emile's apartment but she need not go back to say good bye to her because her friend knew where she was going.

The two of them climbed into the back seat of the taxi and they proceeded on to the airport for the flight out to the Bay Area. It almost felt like a return to home for her, but it simultaneously also didn't. She was going back to the West Coast to visit her parents for a couple of weeks but she was also leaving her home for the place she had wanted to leave for a time.

Once they were inside of the cozy warm and dry back seat, Cliff took off that felt hat and set it upon his lap. Sam spotted the silver skull ring on his right ring finger and she thought about a ring for herself. She swore that, on the ride over to the airport, little white flurries of snow fluttered down from the heavy gray sky overhead. Even if it started to snow on the ride over at any given moment, it would add to the whole feeling of the ride, even if the traffic collected and worsened along the way.

She wondered if any of the traffic or the clouds over them would clear out by the time they left the tarmac. Indeed, when Cliff held the car door for her and she slid out to the sidewalk herself, little flakes the size of nickels floated down from the sky.

“We better get a move on, my lady,” he said to her as he took their things out of the trunk.

“Yeah, get a move on unless the flight gets cancelled,” the driver called after them. Sam and Cliff ducked into the airport and they hurried to the terminal. Lucky for them, the snow hadn't picked up as much by the time they checked in and took their spots right behind first class.

They took off within time: Sam peered out the window to her right and she watched the New York skyline fall away into the pure white of the blizzard.

“Good bye, New York,” she muttered. “I'll be back as quick as possible.”

“Yeah, I'll get you back home in time,” Cliff promised her as he set his hat on his lap once again.

“My parents never converted my bedroom to anything else,” she told him, “so we can sleep in my old bed together, even when we make the first little day trip over to the Bay Area.”

“I was wondering why we didn't get a hotel,” he recalled. “That's definitely a day trip thing, too, because—I think—I think, anyways, Legacy is actually playing a show tomorrow for the solstice. I'll have to call Eric first about it. Good thinking.”

“It was actually my dad's idea,” she pointed out. “He suggested you meet them first and then I meet your parents the next day.”

It was a few hours before they made their layover in Kansas City first: another few hours, and Sam recognized the section of the Sierra Nevadas in between Reno and Lake Tahoe, the latter of which was as pitch black as that darkness a few hours before them. Sam shivered in her seat and she couldn't resist feeling butterflies in her stomach all the while.

She knew her parents would be welcoming of him, but she still crept along the walkway at a slow pace. If she could shrink back into the wall, she would do it, especially when they rounded the corner.

“Cliff, this is my dad Ruben, and my mom Esmé,” she managed to sputter out with a straight face. He towered over especially Ruben, and Esmé stared up at him as if she was star gazing. But they both greeted him with hearty hand shakes and welcoming expressions on their faces.

“So Sam says you're a musician,” Ruben recalled as they congregated away from the terminal.

“Yeah, I'm a bassist,” said Cliff, and he adjusted his hat. “My background is in classical music and country.”

“Wow!”

Meanwhile, Esmé turned to Sam with her hand tucked in her pocket.

“Hold out your hand, dear,” she told her; Sam did just that with her right hand and closed her eyes. Ruben burst out laughing at something, which in turn felt like a dead weight had come off her shoulders. She didn't feel it, but Esmé leaned into her face.

“Okay.”

She opened her eyes to find a deep red stone embedded on a silver ring on her middle finger. “Oh, wow!”

“I've had that ring for so long,” Esmé said; Sam took a closer look at the ring itself and she made out the sight of a pair of serpent heads on either side of the stone. “It's a garnet.”

“It's beautiful, Mom—thank you.” Sam put her arms around her mother and Ruben offered to drive them back to their house for dinner and some wine. She never got the chance to show Cliff the ring until they turned in for the night. The whole evening, she kept one eye on Cliff and Ruben as they talked about all manner of things and she helped out Esmé with the wine and the accompanying cake and cheese. By a quarter to midnight, Sam changed her clothes and she crawled into her old bed. All those old feelings and memories returned to her once she lay her head on the pillow. Cliff crawled under the blankets next to her.

“I like your parents, babe,” he confessed.

“That—makes me so happy,” she said, and she lifted her hand out from under the blankets so she could take off the ring. In the dim light, she showed it to him.

“This is a garnet ring,” she told him. “It belonged to my mom for a long time but she told me I could have it, though.”

“Have it for the two of us, I assume?” he asked her.

“Exactly, yes! I was hoping to have something for myself. You know—given you have that skull ring and whatnot.”

“Aw, Sam, you didn't have to do that.” Cliff rolled over onto his side so his face could be much closer to her own.

“But I wanted to, though,” she insisted and he brought a hand to her chest. They were at her parents' house and yet he already put a hand on her. But he hit it off with them so well, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

The next day, given they didn't have a car for themselves, Ruben and Esmé drove Cliff and Sam over the pass to the Central Valley, followed by the Bay Area. Cliff guided them to the venue where Legacy were about to play for the night.

“The two of you can come along with us if you wish,” he offered them.

“That's real kind of you, Cliff,” Esmé replied to him as she turned around a bit in the front seat. “But, Ruben and I have some Christmas shopping to do, though.”

They dropped off Sam and Cliff outside of the little club on the corner, and he led her inside to the backstage area. It felt so odd without Marla and Aurora there with her, but she was eager to have Cliff by her side and with his arm around her as they stood on the balcony right over the stage.

Chuck stood at the front of the stage with the microphone in one hand and for a good long minute, all Sam could think about was Zetro. Zelda's friendship with him. If they were still friends with each other or if something went on between them. There was so much more to Zelda she needed to learn about as well. But the second he opened his mouth and sang those first notes, she could only focus on him.

Eric's long black hair spread over one side of his face so she couldn't see his expression. She spotted Louie behind the drum kit, and he barely moved about, much like Zelda herself. Her eyes wandered over to Greg and then Alex, the latter of whom stood on the edge of the stage with a dark shadow over his head and shoulders. It felt so right to stand there to watch them on the first day of winter. Rich dark hard music in junction with the lack of sunlight and the menacing bank of fog.

She glanced up at Cliff and he glanced back at her, and then she gestured to Alex.

“He looks so little,” she remarked.

“He isn't, though,” he pointed out. “He's a big little boy.”

He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again.

“I have an idea.”

A couple of songs later, and Cliff guided her off of the balcony. He never let go of her hand as he brought her to the backstage area, the narrow strip of floor about the width of a couch between the main stage itself and the two dressing rooms. Sam kept her attention on Legacy while Cliff argued with one of the stagehands. She watched Louie and his minimal movement, and yet his dark hair flew about like the arms of an octopus. Alex sidled over to Eric so they could solo together following Chuck's harsh bellow that was his singing voice. She spotted that little white pearl over his brow, still bright despite the shadow over his head.

Cliff tapped on her shoulder which broke her concentration.

“We can go back here but you can't go in the dressing rooms, though,” he confessed with a shrug and a solemn look on his face. “Apparently that's all they have at the moment.

“Damn it!” she cried out over Louie's final cymbal splashes.

“I think that's it.” Cliff guided her over to the dressing room on the far left side of the corridor. “Yeah, let's get out of the way—” She stood off to the side as the five of them made their way off the stage and the team of roadies picked up after them: Chuck and Eric darted into the one on the right. She opened her purse even though she had nothing with her of interest, but Cliff guided her to the room in front of them and she halted right outside of the door. Over the chatter to her right, their voices floated through the sliver of a doorway before her.

“Hey, Cliff!” Alex's voice sounded so odd after what she had seen before her; so big and deep in comparison to the lanky dark haired placid faced boy at the edge of the stage.

“Hey, Alex—I just wanted to see how you were doing and—I wanted to ask you something real quick.”

“I gotta get a move on, though,” he explained at a quick clip. “You know—it being Christmas and whatnot.”

“Christmas, not Hanukkah?”

“Hanukkah was a week ago,” Alex pointed out. “I'm just wearing the yarmulke right now just 'cause. It's either that or get labeled as 'meshuggah'.”

“As what?”

“'Meshuggah.' It's my parents' way of saying 'batshit insane.'”

“Sounds like a pretty good name for a band, though.”

“I know, right? And, add to this, I also have a curfew. Yeah, I have a curfew over Christmas break and I'm seventeen.”

“Aw, that's a shame,” Cliff replied, “I was hoping you could meet my girlfriend.”

“I can sign something for her, though,” Alex pointed out as he zipped up his guitar case. “It's not easy, like I can't always go out and meet people but I can always make an offer and do that, though.” Sam raised her eyebrows at the sound of that. He was seventeen years old and yet he already talked like that, as if he had been at it for twice that long. This young boy already knew business and spoke like he meant it.

“What's her name?” Alex asked him.

“Sam,” said Cliff. “Samantha, but she goes by Sam.”

“The dynamic Samantha! What does she do?”

“She's an art student.”

There was a pause, then the rustling of paper on the far side of the room.

“Really? That's like the fifth art student I've met—well, not exactly.”

“Met in a de facto manner.”

“Right, right...” There was another pause. Sam held still outside of the door and she kept her attention fixated on the slight noises in that room. Cliff laughed at something and Alex let out a soft little snicker.

“So when do you guys play again?” Alex asked him in a low voice. “The twenty ninth?”

“Yeah. The twenty ninth and then New Year's Eve. You gotta be there.”

“I'll try to. I mean, if I have to drag my brother out from his hiding spot so I have someone to say that I can go in as a seventeen year old kid, I can.”

Sam's mouth dropped open. Seventeen years old and his smarts were already far advanced than that of someone her age!

“Anyways—” Alex started, but he never said anything further than that.

“Thanks, man, I'm sure she'll love this.”

“My pleasure, Cliff! Now, I gotta get home or my dad's gonna freak—”

Cliff returned out of the room with a little piece of rice paper in hand. Alex had sketched her a little rose with some black ink and wrote right next to it:

“To the dynamic Samantha, have fun with and take good care of Cliff and make sure he doesn't stay up too late on nights when he doesn't warrant it.

Stay as precious as a rose!

Alex Skolnick”

She smiled at that and she lifted her head in time as Alex ducked out of the room and put his yarmulke back on his dark head. Cliff towered before her with a warm little smile on his face.

“Thank you so much,” she called after Alex, but he strode on in the other direction and she had no idea if he heard her. He kept one hand on his yarmulke as he stepped through the back door and into the darkness of the night.

“I'm gonna treasure this,” she promised Cliff as he led her the other way to one of the side doors. They reached the street right as the San Francisco fog drifted in from the Bay itself. It wasn't the New York snow, but she still looked about the street in a daze.

“Merry Christmas,” he said to her in a low voice: she brought the rice paper to her nose, and she caught a faint aroma of cinnamon. The smell of Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” she echoed back to him. “I never want this to end.”

“Me, neither,” he whispered back.

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

Dumpling ch. 19

Authors Notes: (Starting to get into the chapters I’ve had planned for literally YEARS. Feels so good making progress. And thank you for all the lovely messages! Hope you all enjoy.)

Farris’s answer came in the form of manual labor. Three large bushels of long beans that needed washing and their stems pulled off, ten pumpkins that needed breaking down and seeds collected and washed, and confusingly enough, a whole pine tree limb that needed all the needles removed and collected.

As preparation for the dinner service was ramping up, the main kitchen was in full swing with staff rushing around and hot and sharp instruments flying about. So the two humans were banished to corner of the spice pantry atop a small table strategically placed with nothing nearby so as to be used in an any ill-conceived escape attempt. They were a small island onto themselves and would not be able to leave without a giant’s aid. Supposedly.

“He thinks he’s so clever,” Jae remarked after they green door had been shut and they had been given their orders. “He thinks I can’t get down off of this? Watch me.”

“Don’t,” Nenani hissed at him. “We’re already in enough trouble.”

“This is nothin’,” remarked Jae with a cocky grin. “I’ve been in much worse.”

Nenani stared at him, unimpressed. “I’ve heard.”

“Farris’s mind must be going,” he said, paying her no mind as he sat at the edge of the table and began to lower himself down, feet reaching and feeling around for a foothold. The green door behind him silently opened and Yale stepped in grinning. As Nenani opened her mouth to say something, the giant put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and winked. She closed her mouth and watched.

Jae had not picked up on Yale’s presence at all and continued talking aloud. “How many times has he seen me climb these tables. Pff, he should know me better than this...”

“Aye,” agreed Yale, grinning like a cat from the doorway, and startling Jae. The boy scrambled for purchased on the old wooden surface, breathless with surprise and exertion. Jae glared over his shoulder. But Yale, just grinned mischievously, gestured vaguely in their direction. “S’why Farris asked me t’grease them legs. So less ya want to have a long fall and crack yer arse on them stones, best be stayin’ where ya are, brat.”

From behind the green door somewhere out in the kitchen, Farris called out, “He tryin’ to run?”

“Aye, he is.”

“GET YER ARSE BACK ON THAT TABLE, BRAT. OR I’LL BOIL YA WITH THEM BEANS!”

Huffing through his noes, Jae reluctantly pulled himself back up to sit on the table’s edge.

“I’m not gonna sit here and play kitchen lackey all day.”

“Well,” Yale replied. “Farris says ya are.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Fer the time bein’, the King says we can,” Yale replied with a shrug. “So get to it ya two. Gjerk’s waitin’ on them pumpkins.”

“You lot could have this all done in a few minutes,” Jae objected. “This will take us forever!”

“THAT’S THE DAMN POINT, BOY!” Farris hollered from beyond the door. “TIE ‘IM TO THE DAMN TABLE IF YA HAVE TO, YALE.”

“Gladly,” Yale replied, almost daring Jae to give him justification to do just that. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Jae glowered miserably at the expectant giant before getting to his feet and walking over to the pile of gourds, kicking one lightly, before sitting down with an audible thump. “How are we suppose to cut these if we don’t have a knife?”

As if anticipating the question, Yale strode over to their small table and reached behind his back to pull from his apron a leather bundle. It was tiny in the black haired giant’s hands and he held it out to Jae. “Connar was gracious enough to lend these to us.”

As Jae begrudgingly took the parcel, Yale’s other hand reached out and patted him on the head. Already irritated, Jae snarled and smacked the retreating fingers.

“Do that again and I’ll bite you!” Jae warned.

“Try it and I’ll bite ya back. And I warn ya,” Yale said, not at all taking the threat serious. He rather seemed to find whole thing immensely amusing. “I’d bet good coin that mine’s much worse.”

Yale left them to it after that and both Jae and Nenani spent the remainder of the afternoon at the tasks. For nearly an hour Jae was muttering to himself in irritation about the injustice of it all and being a general curmudgeon. The leather bound parcel turned out to be three knives of varying shapes and lengths, but of high quality and honed to a sharp edge.

“I should have just let them tie me up and used these to cut myself free,” Jae grumbled, examining one of the larger knives. “This sucks.”

“Can’t we just finish this and let it be done with?” Nenani pleaded. “Aren’t you tired? Because I want to get this done and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” Jae relented. “They didn’t have to be so commanding about it. Sheesh...”

“They’re just trying to keep us safe,” she told him with a frown. “You’re being such a baby.”

She had expected a sharp tongued retort, but Jae was silent and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he replied in a small and nearly regretful voice, “I know...”

…………………………….

She never in her life had ever seen a long bean. They were as thick as a persons arm and as long as Nenani was tall. Jae told her they were native to Vhasshal and grew in an area called Timberbrook, where they were apparently famous for them. Despite their size, they were easy enough to work through, but the pumpkin were a much messier affair and neither human much cared for the smell. They were a mottled green and gray and not any bigger than a normal gourd. But their outer flesh was hard and tough. Jae took it upon himself to break apart and cut the dusty colored gourds while Nenani picked out the small white flat seeds from their slimey and goopy innards. After washing and drying, they went into a shallow ceramic pot and set aside. What any giant would want with such tiny seeds, Nenani did not know.

“Yaesha uses them,” Jae replied, plunging one of Connar’s knives into the flesh of the next gourd. “He grinds them up and adds them to tonics.”

The worst task ended up being the pine needle collecting. The small green barbs were sharp and there was so many to collect. After the sheer physical exertion of the previous two tasks, let alone the earlier events of the day, Nenani’s hand coordination was all but shot. It made her hands clumsy and prone to pricking herself on the sharp ends. She tried to use her skirts as a glove, but they still managed to penetrate and stab at her sore fingers.

“Why would you even want to eat a pine tree,” Nenani said grumpily and sucked on her abused finger tips. She grimaced as the bitter taste of pine sap hit her tongue. “Ugh, it’s gross.”

“You don’t eat it,” Jae laughed. “You boil the needles and make a tea. It’s supposed to help with arthritis.”

They still had almost half of the tree branch still to harvest when Yale poked his head in through the door. “Makin’ any headway? Gjerk’s needin’ them pumpkins now.”

“They’re over there,” Jae replied shortly, waving at the pile of cut up gourd behind the,. “Take ‘em! They stink.”

With a suppressed smile, Yale easily swept the chunks of pumpkin onto a dish and surveyed the rest of their work. “Still on the pine needles? You two are maddeningly slow at this.”

His teasing tone was lost on both humans and they returned his cheeky grin with tired glares.

“Can we be done now?” Nenani asked pleadingly. “I’m tired of picking pine needles.”

“Yer not supposed to enjoy yer punishment, Dumplin’,” Yale laughed. “But, seein’ as it’s gettin’ late and you two are slower than molasses...”

As he trailed off, Yale looked around and back through the green doorway to see if anyone was watching and then plucked up the pine branch. As easily as picking a flower, Yale pinched one end and dragged fingers across, pulling every needle off effortlessly and when he was done, placed back down upon the table a bare tree limb. Both Nenani and Jae sighed in relief.

“Gods, finally!” Jae exclaimed, falling back onto the table and closing his eyes.

“Can I go to sleep now?” Nenani asked, her eye barely open.

Yale chuckled. “What? Without supper? Figured you’d be starvin’ by now.”

“I am, but also sleepy...”

“Bet you wish you had some of Maevis’s loopy juice now, huh?”

Nenani made a gagging sound. “No.”

……………………………………………………………………..

Gjerk and Herit, as the youngest of the kitchen staff, were set to cleaning as the last of the top table’s dishes were taken up through back servants’ stairwell. Bart, Saen, Avery, and Yale were still out in the courtyard and Farris was making his rounds and verifying everything of that day’s work that needed doing had in fact been done.

“What do you think the King’s gonna do?” Herit asked, wiping down the long table. “About the Ibronian fella.”

“He should throw him in the dungeon.” Gjerk replied, stirring the pot of simmering stew that would be their dinner. He planted one hand on his hip and waved the spoon in the air. “What kind a’ man threatens two lil’ kids? They can’t even reach his kneecaps!”

“You realize I’m only a year younger than you, right?” Jae asked from his perch on small shelf near the archway door.

Gjerk’s face and tips of his ears turned red. “W-well, yeah. But you’re a whole lot smaller than me. It’s not the same!”

“Nah, Jae’s right,” Herit snickered. “I think if it were a contest between which of ya could outrun the Ibronian, my money would be on ‘im.”

Nenani was nowhere near as skilled in climbing as Jae, so she was relegated to counter below and had not been paying very much attention to the conversation. Yale had taken pity on her earlier and set her up with some honey tea to revive her and that had occupied the majority of her attention. So when a large wooden spoon slammed against the wall a few feet from her head, she let out an involuntary shriek of surprise. Herit and Gjerk were chasing after one another, pulling at each others’ clothes and hair. Herit got a good grab on his fellow and the two tumbled to the ground in a cacophonous heap of curses and cries of anger and pain.

It wasn’t a moment later that Yale came rushing through the archway, eyes sharp and seeking. “What th’fuck is goin’ on?!”

Neither of the younger giants paused in their brawl to answer him and it took only a moment for Yale to piece it all together. From behind Yale, Avery and Bart entered and seeing his two underlings tumbling about the floor, the bearded giant scowled.

“Get yer arses off the floor, ya idgets!” yelled Bart. “Before I skin both yer hides!”

As Avery and Bart went about separating the two tenderfoots, Yale made a bee line to Nenani. “What was the scream fer? Ya alright?”

Embarrassed, Nenani hunched her shoulders and hid her face partially behind her cup. She nodded meekly. “...it just scared me.”

Yale blinked down at her and then rolled his eyes with a sigh. Despite that, he did look visibly relieved. “Had me thinkin’ someone came down and started attackin’ you lot.”

“Not unless Gjerk’s soup spoon counts...” Jae added.

Once he fight was broken up and the preparations for supper continued, routine took over and everyone began to take their seats. Herit silently poured out measures of ale while sporting a new split lip as Gjerk dolled out bowls of stew with a newly ripped shirt collar.

“Lolly’s gonna have yer hide,” snickered Saen in reference to the torn garment. Gjerk moved as if to pass a bowl to him, but passed him over and handed it to Yale instead.

Saen frowned. “Oi!”

“I can mend it myself...” Gjerk mumbled.

“Quinn and Kol ain’t back yet?” Herit asked, setting two mugs of ale in front of each bakers’ empty chairs.

“No,” Farris said, cleaning off the hilt of a small blade. Once satisfied, he slipped back into the sheath at his hip. Nenani could not remember ever seeing him wear a knife before. Use one, certainly. But he had never armed himself and she could not help but feel a pinprick of worry. “But if they want to eat, they best be hurryin’.”

“Where did they go?” Jae asked from his seat next to Nenani. Yale had taken a shallow ceramic dish and placed it upturned on the table to give the two human a sort of table of their own.

“Lolly came and got them earlier,” Bart replied, breaking apart a chunk of bread and handing smaller portions to Jae and Nenani. “The Queen was wantin’ a word with ‘em.”

“And that doesn’t bother anyone?” Jae asked, pulling at the softer insides of his piece of bread. “Y’know. Given what’s going on.”

“The Queen doesn’t have a reason t’want ‘em harmed,” Farris said after taking a long pull of his ale. “It’s you she hates, boy. Not my bakers.”

“Guilt by association?” He offered back.

“Gods help us all.” The kitchen master replied. Jae smiled and huffed a quiet laugh.

“S’long as they don’t spill any gravy on her,” Bart said with a grin. “I’m bettin’ they’ll be just fine.”

The smile was gone from Jae face in an instant, but Yale, Saen, and Farris were highly amused.

“What’re the chances that I could get some of that ale?” Jae asked.

“Not good,” chortled Farris. “Tea’ll suit ya just fine.”

Jae slumped down in defeat, sheer exhaustion finally dulling his tongue. Just as things had begun to quiet down and everyone tucked into their food, rapid footsteps began echoing down the servants stairwell. Both Kol and Quinn practically leaped down the last few stairs and into the kitchen, faces flushed and breathing hard. And grinning wildly.

“I take it all is well?” Farris asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yer never gonna guess what just-” Quinn began, quickly sweeping into his seat.

“The Queen gave us raises!” Kol cut him off as he too took his seat, beating the table excitedly. Quinn gave Kol a murderous glare, but it was quickly swept away by his own excitement and he drank heavily from his tankard.

Farris’s blinked in surprise. “She what?”

“Congratulations...” Avery muttered jealously.

“No, ya dolt. All of us!” Kol snapped. The entire table perked up. “She’s givin’ us all a penny more per month!”

“What?” Yale asked with a mouthful of soup. “Really? Why?”

“Guess she really liked them pastries we’ve been makin’,” Quinn answered smugly. “But I guess we’ve all impressed her with the cookin’.”

“Horse shit,” Farris replied grimly. He did not seem to be sharing in the collective mirth. “Looks t’me like she’s buying favors.”

The energy of the room dulled as they mulled over the idea.

“What favors would she be buying?” Jae asked Farris, not quite masking his nervousness. It did not escape Farris’s notice and waved his hand dismissively.

“We ain’t handin’ ya over to her if that’s what yer worried about.”

“I’d do it for three pennies extra,” Avery quipped, but Saen punched him in the arm. “AH! Dammit, Saen it was a joke!”

“I have doubts,” said Farris in a raised tone to recapture the staff’s attention. “...that she has anythin’ like that in mind. She’s startin’ t’see how unpopular she is with some folks and she’s a young lass. Newly married and in a land that ain’t her own.”

“She might be just tryin’ to establish some sort of peace,” Bart agreed, but still seemed to contemplate the situation. “She’s plenty popular with the blue bloods, though. Why try to win our lowly favors and opinions?”

“Maybe it ain’t our opinions she’s trying to win,” Yale countered. “D’ya hear anythin' 'bout what’s t’be done with the Ibronian, lads?”

“Nothing official, but a footman told me he’s bein’ sent back to Ibronia first light,” Quinn said. “I guess the King really let ‘im have it too.”

Yale nodded knowingly. “Aye, like I said. It ain’t our favor she’s vying fer.” He poked Jae in the side, inciting a cry of irritation from the human. “Maybe it’s his.”

There was a short pause before the entire table seem to erupt in dissension. Even Jae was looking at Yale as though the young Vhasshalan had properly lost his marbles.

“HA!” Kol laughed. “She never had much of an opinion of ‘im before. Why now?”

As the discussion turned to all the reasons why Yale’s theory was absolute bonk, Nenani mulled over the riddle in her mind. She remembered Barnaby’s painting of the King and Queen’s wedding day and tried to recall if she seemed happy in the picture. She understood that the marriage had been for political reasons and it seemed to her that it would be a very hard thing to marry for that rather than love. To be far away from your family. Her new husband might be very angry with her for what Creag had tried to do in her name. She certainly hoped that the Queen felt bad about her man trying to kill Jae. And her!

The conversation carried on in that way further into the night long after their bowls were empty and Nenani began to feel the heavy tug of sleep.

“Oh, wait. Look at th' Dumplin’,” someone said teasingly. She blinked blearily in the direction of the voice to identify the source, but she could not tell as the world began to blur. Warm soft laughter swam above her as she laid her head down and closed her eyes. “Ah! There she goes...”

…………………………………………

It was a familiar dream now. Boats burned on the horizon and people screamed, but she did not see her Uncle’s boat this time. Instead, a small skiff ambled moor-less in the tide and the longer she stared, the closer the skiff approached. She hovered above the water, toes barely touching the surface, and watched immobile as the dark skiff drew near. It bumped lightly against her shins as she looked into it. A shroud covered body lay inside surrounded by burial offerings and flowers. A large jeweled amulet lay atop the green shroud and she found it mesmerizing. The jewel set in the center was as large as a duck’s eggs and was speckled with flecks of orange, red, green, and yellow. The burning light of the fires made the red of the jewel glisten like blood and she could not resist reaching out to touch it. As her fingers grazed the ice cold surface of the amulet, the green velvet shroud pulled away to reveal the empty black eyes of a skull.

With a gasp, Nenani drew back her hand.

Stone rose up from the waves and pressed to her feet and suddenly she was no longer in the harbor of the Southland Ports, but deep inside the walls of Vhasshal. The pitted walls of the catacombs rose up around her and voices rang out inaudibly. Nenani turned to find the way out, but her movements were slow and weighted as though trying to run through deep mud. Something gripped her wrist and pulled, but she would not turn to look at it. She could feel the hard bone of its hand and hear the rattling of its spine.

“The cracks grow wider,” the voice moaned, tugging her closer to the center of the room. “Soon he will see you…”

“Please,” she begged, crying wildly as she was pulled ever more closer to the room’s center. “Please leave me alone!”

“There is too much inside you building...the cracks will break...”

“I just wanna go home! Please! PLEASE!”

A boney hand gripped her face and she could smell ash. “...the fire of Silvaara is still wild.”

The harder she breathed, the less air she seemed to take in and no matter how hard she pushed back, the skeleton assailant was so much stronger. Something pressed up against the side of her head and the voice spoke again, hideously close to her ear. “He will come for you...”

“MAMA!”

All at once she was free and she tumbled hard onto her knees. The cold air of the catacombs was gone and replaced with the warmth of the kitchen hearth. She could smell stew and ale and feel the rough wood grain under her hands. All at once sound returned and everyone was shouting in surprise.

“Seven hells!”

“What the fuck was that fer?”

“Shit-!”

“Gods, that one can scream...”

Something large touched her back and she immediately curled in on herself with a cry of terror.

“Oi! Nenani,” Yales voice broke through the haze and she sensed his hands hovering over her. “Yer alright! It was just a nightmare, Dumplin’. Yer alright.”

Her rapid breathing slowed as she became of aware of herself again and a rolling wave of emotion surged from inside her and poured out. Tears turned to muffled cries and then into open sobbing that just would not cease. Yale laid a tentative hand on her back, rubbing lightly and trying to comfort her. She reached out to grasp his fingers as though they would keep her from sinking into the abyss. His voice, quiet and calming, whispered over her head so close she could feel the heat of his breath along her neck. “Yer safe, Nenani. Was just a dream, darlin’. Just a bad dream...”

“Yale,” Farris’s gruff voice spoke from somewhere to Nenani’s right. “Go on an’ get that lil’un t’bed.”

She did not hear Yale responded, but his hands slowly and with measures and practiced care scooped her into the crook of one arm before he turned towards the barracks. She felt a moment of panic as the passed through the curtains and into the pitch dark of the room and even more so when Yale lowered her down onto a pillow. She grabbed onto his shirt as he tried to pull away.

“S’alright. Just let me light a candle, eh?” Her fingers reluctantly released the fabric and she listened with baited breath as Yale hurried to light a candle. A flicker of yellow flame appeared nearby as the candle’s wick caught the flame of the match. Yale sat it inside a small oval cutout in the wall near his bunk and crouched down to be eye level with Nenani.

“Better?”

Nenani nodded, but it was a lie. Yale seemed to sense it as well and slowly reached out a hand towards her. He patted her hair softly as Nenani sniffed and tried to control her hiccuping sobs. “Yer shakin’, Dumplin’. Must’ve been a bad one to set ya off like this.”

Her throat felt clogged and too tight to answer so she just nodded.

“Wanna tell me what it was about? Might help some,” Yale offered. “Was it that Creag bastard?”

She shook her head.

“...was it Farris?”

She shook her head vehemently and managed a thick sounding, “...n-no...not Farris.”

“Keral then? Knowin’ him, he probably made ya think ya were in real deep trouble when he found ya in the halls with no marker.”

She shook her head again.

“Well...” Yale probed further. “Wanna tell me? You don’t have ta if ya don’t wanna.”

She was able to meet his gaze at last and could see the real concern in them. Yale had been endlessly kind to her ever since she first arrived. He always hung around and stepped in to defend her whenever he felt he was needed and always made sure she was fed and had company. She utterly trusted Yale possibly more than anyone else in all of Vhasshal. And before she really understood what she was saying, the words left her lips.

“...there are...dead people...in the walls...”

#Dumpling #Fantasy Story #giant #giants #tiny #human #Vhasshal #Nenani #Jae #Farris #Yale #nightmare

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