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britishassistant · 3 years

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The Villainous Paranoiac Needs a New Uniform

You hate magic.

You hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic, you hate magic so so so much.

You especially hate magic when it’s being used by an off-his-rocker prince with a persecution complex the size of Shibuya to disintegrate you because you’re trying to stop him from being consumed by evil magic waste and turning this dumb boy’s school into a desert over a sports tournament.

Your left side throbs around the grit of the sand buried in it as you desperately scramble upwards. All around you the formerly stable bleachers are wavering, tonnes of metal and support slowly crumbling to dust from the ground up with every second that passes.

“Prefect! Are you okay?!” Deuce has begun taking a few steps towards the bleachers—

Turning his back on Kingscholar.

“DEUCE, GET DOWN!!” You scream.

One of Cater-senpai’s clones trips him up, only to scream in agony as the magic blast intended for Deuce disintegrates it instead.

You try not to retch as you heave yourself up onto the commentator’s box roof.

“Pay attention, dumbass!” You faintly hear Ace bark. “You can’t just forget about the crazy overblot! We’re in the middle of a battle here!!”

“But my minion’s stuck up there!” Grim wails back, “We gotta do something!”

Buchie-senpai says something you can’t hear in reply, because you’re too busy hollering, “Howl-san, MOVE!!”

Howl-san only narrowly dodges the incoming attack despite his speed. The sand slams into the already weakened bleachers, causing you to stumble as the roof shakes under you, tilting at an alarming angle.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Kingscholar mocks, creepy hollow voice clearly audible despite the distance. “Didn’t I tell you herbivores to be prepared?”

You fight the urge to flip him off with great difficulty.

This is so much worse than Rosehearts-senpai’s Overblot. The ligament in your right ankle still gives twinges that show it’s not fully healed yet, but at least you weren’t the only one roughed up in that battle, as the dorm head lashed out at everyone and everything in his rage.

Kingscholar is aiming for you specifically. Which means that this overblot can think enough to recognize threats beyond those flinging magic attacks at it.

And exploit the fact that the you’re weak and in danger to force the others to choose between saving you and taking him down.

Your teeth sink into your thumb. You don’t wanna die here, you refuse to die here, so what are your options??

Option one; focus on directing the battle and try to stick it out up here until Kingscholar is defeated.

A bad plan right off the bat, if the tremors underneath you are any indication.

If you try to hold out until the end of the fight, the sand will finish eating through the bleachers’ supports just like it’s eating into your thigh and hip right now. You will not survive the fall onto the jagged steel and rebar below.

The others might manage not to get distracted by your messy death, but if they haven’t finished off Kingscholar by then, they’ll be sitting ducks if they can’t agree on a strategy.

Ace and Grim are down there.

There’s no way they’re not dead if you bite the dust.

And all that’s on the very generous assumption that Kingscholar won’t just King’s Roar you right here and now. He’s certainly smirking like he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, the cocky bastard.

So option two; get the others to help you down ASAP, preferably while Kingscholar is distracted.

Marginally better than option one, but not by much. If they all come to help you, Kingscholar can just pick them off at his leisure, even if Cater-senpai uses his clones to try and confuse who’s who. While all of you are struggling to see in the sandstorm, the accuracy of the overblot’s attacks show that the storm isn’t affecting his eyesight one bit.

Plus, the more of your allies get on the bleachers, the higher the likelihood of the bleachers collapsing faster and crushing them and you with it.

Even if you try to have one or two of them split off from the group to help get you down while the others try to keep him occupied, Kingscholar can target you, the splinter group before they can get to you, or even wipe out the remainder of the attacking formation who won’t have the necessary magic to defend themselves from a head-on assault.

Divide and conquer. As expected of a might makes right fanatic.

Kingscholar-senpai, you decide, is one of the biggest bag of dicks you’ve ever laid eyes on. Even counting the ones you’re related to.

All that’s left is option three.

If you want a job done right, do it yourself.

“Eyes on the Overblot guys, nobody break formation no matter what you think you see or hear!” You wince as you strip your blazer off, feeling fresh blood soak into your side. It’s tattered around the edges where King’s Roar tore into you, but the body of the jacket seems whole enough at least. “I’ll be fine, so just focus on Kingscholar!”

You grit your teeth as you tie the sleeves together. “Buchie-senpai, I need you to use Laugh With Me to keep him still so Rosehearts-senpai can Off With His Head. Howl-san, Cater-senpai, Deuce, Grim, you need to hit him then with everything you’ve got! I’ll signal when by telling Ace what he needs to do! No more holding back, we need to end this, understood?!”

“Loud and clear!” Buchie-senpai calls back, brandishing his magic pen.

“You better not be planning anything too crazy Yuu-chan~” Cater-senpai calls up, his exhaustion evident through his usual bravado.

Kingscholar chuckles. “If this is something you think you can fight back against, just try to fight it! I’ll turn all of your meaningless efforts to sand!”

The sandstorm picks up in response to his words, the small grains burning your eyes and scraping across your skin.

“On my mark!” You yell, bracing yourself.

The roof shrieks in protest under you.

“Ace—“ You hold the ragged edges of your blazer tight in your hands. “Give me some wind!!”

You start running.

You jump.

You vaguely hear yelling below you, beyond the swoop of your stomach and the roar of the bleachers collapsing into rubble behind you. Your makeshift parachute feels like it’s on the verge of tearing itself out of your grip. You think you’re screaming.

Oh god, this was a mistake, this was a horrible, horrible mistake. You don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die, you don’t wanna die—

The wind picks up in your ears, but it’s not enough, you’re barely slowing down, why did you think this was a good idea, you saw it in a video game for the love of god, you’re going to die, you’re going to break your legs and die—

Small pricks of pain seize onto your hair, your shoulders, your back, and your uninjured leg. Several small and hard somethings start hitting you in the face repeatedly.

Huh. You thought bats were nocturnal. What are they doing here in the middle of the day?

Wait, before that, why are there even bats in a sandstorm in the first place?! And whey are they all latched onto you like you’re a piece of fruit they’re trying to carry off??

“Sebek, if you would~?”

You shriek as something clamps down hard around your injured thighs and waist, the wind half knocked out of you as a shoulder is driven into your stomach.

“Stop screaming, human!!” The loud green-haired Diasomnia member roars at you. “Be grateful Lilia-sama saw fit to sav—”

“Yes, yes, I’m very thankful, just hold on a sec!” You babble, twisting in his grip. The sandstorm’s weakened a lot, and while Kingscholar’s looking a lot worse for wear than he did before you leapt, he’s not down for the count just yet.

But you know exactly the combo to finish him off.

“Grim, Ace, Deuce!!” You yell. “Fire-tornado-cauldron him!!”

“Leave it to me, fnagh!” Grim crows as Ace shouts, “We have GOT to come up with a cooler name than that!!”

The overblot dodges out of the way of the aptly-named fire tornado, still smug if tired and badly scorched. However, as he races forward to counterattack, it becomes clear that he forgot about the third part of the combo you yelled.

“TAKE THIS!!” Deuce screams.

The look on Kingscholar-senpai’s face before the cauldron lands on him is something you’re gonna treasure for weeks.

“King...I’ll...be...” The lion prince staggers, and finally, finally collapses.

There’s a quiet moment as the sand storm slows to a gradual stop.

Kingscholar doesn’t get back up, the giant lion dissipating like a mirage and the grey and black leeching from him.

“It...it’s over.” You pant. “We...we beat him...!”

Rosehearts-senpai doesn’t lower his magic pen. Instead, he wheels around and points it at you with a thunderous “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

The heavy metal collar snaps shut around your neck. “ACK!”

“Prefect!”

The Diasomnia guy actually drops you at the sight of Rosehearts-senpai storming over, face redder than a strawberry tart and eyes burning with fury.

Please God, don’t make you have to deal with another Overblot after just beating an extremely painful one.

“YOU— YUU— YOU— WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, JUMPING OFF THE BLEACHERS LIKE THAT?!” He screeches. “THAT'S A FORTY FOOT DROP, AT LEAST!! YOU COULD'VE BROKEN EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY, OR, OR BEEN KILLED, ARE-ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“No, I just didn’t want to get impaled!” You bristle, gesturing at the rubble. “If I jumped, I at least had a small chance of surviving—”

“Sure, because that’s what you falling with that dumb torn jacket was!” Ace snarls, popping up over his dorm head’s shoulder. “It was everything I could do to even make you slow down some—‘give me some wind’ my ASS!”

“It certainly was interesting though.” The Diasomnia vice dorm head pipes up from behind you. “I was almost worried for a minute there that my bats wouldn’t be able to rescue you and you’d be a smear on the playing field.”

“Th-THAT'S RIGHT!! MAGICLESS HUMAN!! PROPERLY PAY YOUR RESPECTS TO THE GREAT LILIA SAMA FOR DEIGNING TO SAVE YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE!!” The green-haired Diasomnia guy screams in your ear.

“The hell d’ya think yer calling ‘worthless’, hah?!” Deuce growls, storming over to him.

“Yeah, don’t insult my minion, fgnah!!” Grim barrels into your good side, hissing at the Diasomnia guy from under your arm, conveniently turning you into a shield.

“WHY YOU LITTLE—!”

“WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED TO THE BLEACHERS??” The dumb bird headmaster’s shriek rises over the din. “OH HOW COULD SOMETHING SO TERRIBLE HAVE HAPPENED TO ME, THE MOST GRACIOUS OF HEADMASTERS?!”

You flop onto your back. The pain from where King’s Roar tore into your left side is returning full-force, now there’s no threat to divert your attention from it. The collar around your neck only adds to the pain with its weight, and all the yelling is giving you a headache.

You hate magic.

You hate magic so much.

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callivich · 3 years

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Been thinking about Ian and Mickey becoming Liam’s guardians and getting a new place together. Sorta spiralled into a headcanon.

———

“Liam!” Ian called up the stairs, “We’re going out.”

“Ok, bye.” Liam shouted from his bedroom.

“No, you’re coming too. Get down here.”

Liam made his way downstairs, grabbing his coat, a curious look on his face. “Where?”

“Shopping. For our new place.” Ian smiled, Liam looked unsure and Ian couldn’t blame him. He and Mickey had been wrapped up in their own shit lately and he felt terrible that he hadn’t been looking after Liam properly. That was all going to change now. He and Mickey were going to become Liam’s guardians, and after the house was sold, they would move into a new place together. There had been a lot to deal with, a lot of discussion and paperwork, but finally things seemed to be coming together nicely.

Ian was excited to look after Liam, and he was pleased to see how much Mickey was too - he’d been trying to involve Liam as much as possible in the apartment hunting, making sure to always ask Liam what he thought, as well as making much more of an effort to ask Liam about school and find out what he enjoyed doing for fun. It made Ian so happy to see them getting on so well.

And now, they had a date to move into their two bedroom apartment, which meant they needed to get a move on with buying furniture.

“Come on, Gallagher, let’s go.” Mickey tossed Ian his coat, impatient to get going, and they all headed out.

“What do we need to shop for?” Liam asked, walking in between Ian and Mickey.

“New beds. I ain’t sleeping on that piece of shit bed Ian and I have now for any longer than I have to.”

“It’s not that bad. Prison was worse.”

“Yeah, but not by much. I want a big ass bed with a memory foam mattress.”

“Memory foam?” Liam asked.

“I’ve been researching this stuff, it’s one of the best. Like sleeping on clouds or some shit.” Mickey had taken his research very seriously, after all this choice would affect two of his favourite things - sleeping and fucking, so he wanted to get it right. But it wasn’t just that - this would be his and Ian’s bed, the first one they had chosen together, and that was important. It felt like another step in building their life together properly now that they were married.

Ian laughed, “Sleeping on clouds?”

“Yeah. Got a problem with that? You can sleep on the fucking floor if you do.” Mickey reached over and playfully shoved Ian lightly.

“Like you’d cope without me being the big spoon.”

“Fuck off.” He turned to Liam. “Forget you heard that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty skilled at making myself forget things when it comes to you too. But that’s actually kind of sweet.” They turned a corner, arriving at their destination - The Sleep Kingdom, which, according to the sign on the windows, promised that the Sleep King would find you the best bed in the Kingdom or your money back.

“Not sweet.” Mickey grumbled, as they entered the store. “It’s Ian that loves the spooning really, he’s fucking clingy.”

Ian and Liam rolled their eyes, trailing behind Mickey.

“Hello! Welcome to the Sleep Kingdom! My name is Alan, how can I help you today?” They had literally just stepped through the doors when Alan had approached them, clearly desperate for a customer in the otherwise empty shop. It was vast, full of all types of beds and mattresses, each with its own sign and information. It was slightly overwhelming.

“Uh, me and my....uh, husband need a bed, and the kid needs a bed too. And mattresses for both.” Mickey’s eyes darted around the place, and he crossed his arms. Ian couldn’t help but smile. Mickey was still getting used to introducing Ian as his husband, and sometimes he stumbled over the word, especially around strangers, but when he said it, Ian still felt like it was the first time, and he got that wonderful rush of happiness.

Alan the salesman didn’t seem to notice that Mickey felt awkward, instead he gestured towards the beds, “Well, you’ve come to the right place! We have every type of bed and mattress that is available in the Chicago area. Now, let me just get an idea of your sleeping habits. Are you light or heavy sleepers? Do you prefer soft or hard mattresses? Do you sleep on your side, front, or back? How big are your bedrooms?”

Liam, Mickey, and Ian all exchanged glances, surprised at the questions. Alan shook his head, seemingly realising his mistake, “Sorry, we’ve been a bit quiet this morning, I tend to get a bit overexcited when I’ve got new customers. Why don’t you just try out some of the beds and see what you think? If you need me, I’ll be over there.” He pointed to a desk, tucked away in the corner, and headed off.

Mickey elbowed Ian, “Wish we could try some of these out properly. Make sure they’re sturdy enough.”

“Gross.” Liam muttered, wandering away from them, trailing one hand over the mattresses as he went. He called over his shoulder, “Do I get to choose mine?”

Ian and Mickey had already thrown themselves on a bed. “Course. Pick whatever you want.” Mickey replied, as he got up and jumped onto another bed, Ian followed him, collapsing on top of Mickey heavily, both of them breaking into laughter.

Liam turned away and began to study the beds and mattresses. He had just assumed he would be taking the ones he had at home to their new place. It was kinda exciting that he got to pick brand new ones. He made his way to the far end of the store, looking at all the different choices as he went - double, single, king, queen size beds, memory foam, pocket sprung, gel mattresses, and more. He lay on a memory foam one, wanting to know what the fuss was all about. Oh. He turned over onto his side, relaxing into the comfort of the foam. He could understand why Mickey wanted one of these, Liam felt like he could fall asleep right there and then. But the calm feeling disappeared instantly when he began to read the information card attached to the headboard and saw the price. He jumped off the bed and made his way back towards Ian and Mickey.

———

As they lay on the seventh bed they had tried, a queen bed with a memory foam mattress and a modern grey headboard, Ian reached for Mickey’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“Can’t believe we’re buying our own bed together.” Ian smiled, tugging Mickey closer. “Our bed. Together.”

Mickey let go of Ian’s hand and turned on his side to rest his head on Ian’s chest, throwing one leg over Ian’s. “Yeah.” His voice was soft, and Ian could tell he was happy. Ian was pleased the store was empty, apart from Alan who was lounging in his chair engrossed in his phone, so that Mickey felt comfortable being so relaxed. “This memory foam shit is fucking nice, right?”

“Oh yeah, think this might the one.” Ian ran his hand down Mickey’s back. “What do you think of the bed frame? Headboard is nice.” It was a rectangle, made of wood, with a slight curve along the top which, if needed, someone could hold on to without bashing their fingers against the wall.

Mickey reached up and tried to shake it, but it didn’t budge. “Seems pretty strong.”

“Which is good, because when you’re holding on to it-”

“Uh, guys?” Liam interrupted, standing hesitantly at the bottom of the bed. Ian and Mickey broke apart and rolled on to their backs. “Have you seen the prices here? It’s expensive.” He knelt on the bed, in the space between them, looking worried.

“Hey, you don’t worry about that.” Ian sat up, concerned.

“But-”

“I’m serious. That’s our job now. Mine and Mickey’s. Money, food, rent, all that stuff. You don’t need to worry, because we’re going to sort it.”

“Ok.” Liam shrugged, and Ian could tell he was trying to believe him but there was still some doubt there. Which made sense - money worries was one of the many things that had defined their lives for so long. It made Ian’s heart hurt that Liam was still worrying about stuff like that. He wanted his brother to have a fresh start, to feel carefree and like his life was stable.

Mickey sat up as well, resting his arms on his knees. “Yeah, kid, you don’t need to worry about that shit.” He paused, and shuffled back against the headboard. “But, just so you know. When it comes to money, we’re doing good. The business is good, and with our share of the money from the sale of the house, we can afford this stuff. Ok? And we’re being fucking responsible, we’ve got a budget and we’ve been saving. So, just...worry about being a fucking kid or whatever.” Mickey crossed his arms, glancing around uncomfortably, apparently slightly embarrassed about admitting said responsibility.

Ian nodded in agreement. “Things are going to be different now. It’ll take some getting used to, for all of us, but we deserve this. I know it feels like there’s always something bad around the corner, but it’s not always like that. We’ve” - he gestured to himself and Mickey, “got our jobs, the three of us have this new place, you’re doing well at school. Things are going to be alright.”

Liam nodded, there were tears in his eyes, and Ian could tell that he was finally letting himself believe it. “Ok.” He sniffed, and Ian opened his arms for a hug, Liam shuffled forward into his brother’s embrace.

They both looked at Mickey, each reaching out an arm. “Fine.” Mickey sighed, pretending to be annoyed, but he hugged Ian and Liam tightly, so it was clear he didn’t think it was actually that bad.

“Ok, ok. That’s enough.” Mickey wriggled out of their arms. “You choose a bed yet, kid?”

“Well-” There was a little frown on his face.

“And remember, don’t worry about the fucking money, just pick the one you like.” Mickey interrupted, wanting to reassure him.

“There’s a memory foam one over there that’s pretty nice.”

“Fucking told you! Good. Now what size bed you want?”

“Size? A single, I guess?”

“Your new room is big enough for a double if you want?” Ian suggested. “I mean, you can have a single if you want, but you don’t have to.”

Liam considered that, jumping off the bed and onto a nearby double bed. He lay on his back, legs and arms out like a starfish, there was lots of space, he could definitely get used to this. “Ok, as long as we can afford it.”

“Fuck -” Mickey shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Liam, what did we just talk about. Be a kid, ok? Leave the boring money shit to us.”

“Fine.” He took a deep breath. “I want a double bed with the mattress from over there,” he pointed, “think it was called the slumber cloud or something.”

“Good fucking choice.” He turned to Ian. “We good with this one? Or you wanna keep looking?”

Ian lay down again, rolling on to his side and then on to his back. “Nah, this is it. This is our bed.” A queen bed, with a wooden headboard, and a memory foam mattress, slightly more expensive than they’d thought but still within their budget.

Mickey grinned, leaning over Ian for a quick kiss, and then sat up. “Yo, Alan,” he called out. “Need some help over here.”

Liam relaxed on the bed, closed his eyes, and listened to Ian, Mickey, and Alan discussing payment and delivery - and the addition of some fancy pillows, because why the fuck not? He began to picture his new room, and smiled. After so much worry and uncertainty about where he was going to live, who was going to look after him, and a lifetime of chaos, it finally seemed like things were going to be good for once. New bed, for his new room, for the new chapter of his life.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #liam gallagher #shameless #headcanon #as always please feel free to continue this or share other headcanons!#this is so long #I can’t really call it a headcanon #it’s a fic lol

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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The aftermath of Merlin snapping, and yelling at Arthur in the middle of the forest;

Arthur pushes for change, the gang takes bets on when Merthur will happen, and someone, somewhere, is grumpy.

Part 2 of Merlin’s Angry Outburst.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Once Arthur has a first draft of the repeal, the first people he brings in on it (with Merlin’s approval, of course) are the 5 knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana.

(Morgana, who later that evening comes back to Arthur's chamber in tears (Merlin is also there) to reveal her magic, and thank him for not being Uther.)

All of them enthusiastically agree, after only a little conversation.

Elyan and Leon are the most... dubious, but only because of the practical factor, they don't disagree with the actual repeal.

After months of the gang working in secret, they reveal their best draft to the council. At least half the council are new members that Arthur appointed, the rest are left over from Uther’s time.

They argue back and forth for a while, half vs half. A few of the older members, who were around before the purge, slowly start changing their minds.

In the end, it takes them maybe a month to get a majority, and Arthur overrules the remaining opposition. He is King after all, technically, he doesn’t even have to have a council.

Days after the agreement is reached, Arthur goes out personally to collect a few specific Druids, who had been waiting just outside the border for the go ahead.

It takes maybe another month to go through all the laws thoroughly, changing and editing and altering what needs to be altered. With the help of Arthur's close advisors on the political aspects, and the help of the Druids, Merlin, and Gaius, on the magical aspects (what should be allowed freely, what should be monitored, and what should remain fully banned).

The city celebrates when the announcement is made, they all loved the new King anyway, and had been overjoyed with the drop in executions, and deliberate ignoring of small instances of magic.

After a feast to celebrate the new found freedom among the people, the gang gathers once more, in private, and Merlin tells a shortened version of the story he'd told Arthur all those months ago.

None of them are that surprised (Gaius, Morgana, and Lancelot already knew, of course).

If they hadn't suspected Merlin of being a sorcerer before this whole thing started (Leon, Gwaine, and Gwen definitely suspected) , then they had certainly begun to in the last few months. They cheer when Merlin finishes telling them "just how often I've saved your oblivious arses" .

They cheer even louder when Arthur announces that he would be made court sorcerer, and it would be made official in a ceremony before the week ended.

There are no cheers when Morgana stands.

Curious eyes land on her, probably due to how terrified she looks, but the small encouraging nods and little smiles she gets from her brother (her Brother), Merlin, and Gwen, give her the strength she needs to tell everyone of her magic as well.

They see she is frightened, they imagine how difficult it must have been, being at first Uther’s ward, and then his daughter. They smile gently, and she receives hugs a plenty. Once all the congratulations are out of the way, she sits back down next to Gwen, still shaky and full of adrenaline, but happy.

She spends the remainder of the group’s quiet celebrations with her hand gripped in Gwen's under the table.

(Read this how you want, I personally envision it as the start of something)

So the days draw on, Merlin is announced Court Sorcerer, Arthur hires another manservant and gives Merlin a large set of chambers in the same hallways as Arthur's, complete with all the books on magic Arthur can find, and several of the magical artefacts that had previously been kept locked away (Merlin and Arthur are the only ones who are able to gain access to the room, something magicky I guess).

(No one mentions that that corridor is supposed to be for royalty only. Leon figures they're bound to realise that they're in love with each other any day now, and then Merlin will practically be royalty anyway so... might as well cut out the middle bit of having to shuffle chambers again later on).

The kingdom is prospering, and for months after the initial announcement, and implementations of the new laws, sorcerers and nobles from all over Albion, visit Camelot, to give congratulations to the King.

They give gifts and provide knowledge.

The Druids, however, are a slightly different story.

The ones who had been helping with the paperwork, had been... odd(?) around Merlin. But they respected his wish to keep all of that under wraps, or at least until it was announced publicly.

Arthur and Gaius know the whole Emrys story. Lancelot and Morgana know bits of it... but other than that... as far as anyone is concerned, the newly promoted Court Sorcerer is just another wizard.

The new Druids entering the kingdom are paying brief respects to the Forever King (I mean... at this point, he's still only King of Camelot... which is what he was before the magic ban repeal), before staring in reverence at the Court Sorcerer stood by his side.

They respect his wishes to keep the worshipping and gift giving to a minimum, though they still come to him for requests of miracles and ask him to perform druid ceremonies (blessings and name-givings and weddings and funerals (though they prefer to call them celebrations of life, rather than commiserations of death) and such).

Merlin can only brush off so many displays of such awe before the rest of The Gang demands to know what’s up, at which point he has to come clean about the whole... “Most Powerful Warlock To Ever Walk The Earth” thing.

Much to Merlin’s chagrin (and everyone else's amusement) the Druids still insist on calling him Emrys. The stubborn ones sometimes even go for "My Lord Emrys", which gets them a scowl from Merlin (and barely concealed laughter from everyone else).

Maybe... later on... when Morgana is more comfortable with her magic, after a few months practicing with Merlin (with a supportive Gwen Always at her side) , she is announced as the Court Seer.

Merlin had never had much luck with prophetic visions, but once Morgana’s fear died down, once she learned to let it flow, and breathe through it, the visions come easier, and kinder.

She stops seeing only visions of doom, and worst case scenarios, instead she has dreams of the many paths the future may take.

She does not panic when a path seems grim and dark, for she has a King and a Warlock and Gwen, by her side. Always. And they work through the future together.

So the ban has been repealed officially for around 6 months.

Arthur is a couple months away from completing his second year as King. And he and Merlin are still beating around the bush.

The betting pool for when they’ll finally get together has been growing bigger and bigger. Practically the whole castle is in on it now, with Gwen and Morgana as the ring leaders. Whoever wins... will be very lucky.

(It's Leon in the end, he pays attention, and he know what his boys are like. But he's a noble and has no need for the money, he pays for a few rounds of drinks and donates the rest to one of children's homes in the lower town).

But the war comes first.

Camelot has been prospering, and has many supporters throughout Albion, but one of the kingdoms, it doesn't matter which, you decide, does NOT like this.

Scouts and small patrols have been needling Camelot’s borders for months now, and Arthur and his Council (and Inner Council) have been making quiet preparations. They know that some sort of... something, is coming soon.

Especially when Morgana begins to dream of battles and blood and lightening.

They prepare for, and expect, a full scale war, but they hope for some negotiations and a peace treaty with the opposition.

Their hopes are dashed, when a messenger is escorted into the throne room, wearing The Opposition’s colours, with a letter.

Said letter is an angry rebuttal of everything Camelot stands for, full of accusations of abandoning tradition, and spitting in the face of great leaders, of which this soft boy-king should NOT be counted as.

At the end, there was an official declaration of war.

The messenger boy was obviously scared to death, and once Arthur read the P.S, which invited Arthur to torture and/or execute him to the whatever extent he wants, he understood why. Without any hesitation, he offers the boy a job in the stables, a new wardrobe of clothes, and a servant’s bed in the castle.

After the official council meeting on the matter, setting up war committees, laying out contingency plans, organising the distribution of emergency evacuation plans, and discussing potential aid that could be requested from allies, Arthur pulls the gang together, for their own meeting.

“We knew this was coming, and there is no need to panic yet. Our outer borders are well patrolled, and we’re still getting up to date reports. The city walls hold strong, but I want to send out patrols to warn the villages of what’s coming. Start closer to the border, and work our way in. Leon?”

“My Lord, I have teams prepared for exactly that already, I just need to give the word and they’ll go.”

“Good. Morgana, I need you to try and keep focusing your visions, if we have even a small idea of how they might try to initiate the first battle, it’ll be a huge advantage.”

“Me and Merlin have been practising some new techniques to control where and when I can see, we’ll write everything down, and ask the Druids if they’ve seen anything as well.”

Arthur holds in a smile at the confidence in her voice. He is unendingly proud of how far his sister had come, and made a mental note to tell her that when all this was over.

“Brilliant, keep me in the loop. Gwen, when we’re done here, go and let the forgery know, the Royal Household will pay them extra to push out as much long range ammunition as they can. Arrows and crossbow bolts, we need as many as they can produce.” Gwen nods, and Arthur finally looks towards Merlin:

“And Merlin, I need you to be ready. Don’t wear yourself out too much in the next few weeks, I need you in good condition, if we’re to win this with minimal casualties-”

He glances over at Morgana before he continues:

“If the two of you could also ask the Druids if they have any volunteer healers. Make sure they know they aren’t obligated to come, but any help in the infirmaries would be greatly appreciated.” Morgana nods once more, as does Merlin, before he speaks:

“There’s a camp a couple hours ride outside the city at the moment, we’ll head out at first light-” He pauses and closes his eyes for a second, tilting his head, before looking to Morgana:

“They’re expecting us.”

Arthur addresses the room again:

“Right. I think that’s all for now, anyone have anything to add?”

Gaius responds after a moment:

“My Lord, if I could make a request for a few servants to help me set up supplies for the infirmary? Extensive preparations will need to be made to ensure that I have all I’ll need. Preferably people with rough herbal knowledge, if at all possible.”

Arthur nods straight away, responding:

“Yes, of course, I’ll ask the Housekeeper and the Steward who they can spare this evening, and they’ll be ready for you in the morning. Anything else?” At the silence in the room, Arthur tells everyone to get to work.

Leon marches straight down to the training grounds (Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan following him) to ring the summoning bell and inform the knights of the developments, and their tasks.

Gwen heads straight to the forgery (her and Elyan still oversee work there, but they have employees (and a few trainees) to run it) to give the Kings order.

Gaius shuffles out, and makes his way back to his quarters, already making mental lists of ingredients needed, and work to be done.

Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin are left, the royal siblings thinking to themselves, and Merlin thinking to someone else. Arthur contemplates that the whole mental link thing he had going on with the Druids was extremely useful.

Both his and Morgana’s thoughts were interrupted by Merlin huffing, and clenching his fists as he opens his eyes, obviously unhappy with whatever was said:

“Merlin?” From Morgana has the Court Sorcerer looking up from scowling at the table. He replies after wiping the frown off his face:

“Oh, it’s fine. They just made a... stupid suggestion is all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Stupid? Doesn’t sound like the Druids. What was it?”

Merlin looks mildly uncomfortable at that, and replies slowly:

“It... doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you another time. It’s late, you should practice some meditation and head to sleep, no potions tonight. And remember to keep some parchment and a quill by your bed, so you can scribble down anything you see-”

Merlin stands abruptly and heads towards the door:

“-I’m going to check the wards on the outer wall, and push a little more energy into the wells. I’ll see you both bright an early.” With that, Merlin heads out the room swiftly.

Arthur looks to his sister questioningly, but she shrugs as she responds:

“Who knows. “I’ll tell you later” means he doesn’t want you to know, OR he’s hoping I’ll forget because he doesn’t want either of us to know. He’s right though, I should meditate for a while-”

Morgana stands at this:

“- hopefully I’ll see you before we head off, if not, I suppose it’ll be dinner in the evening. Good night, brother.” Morgana leaves the room gracefully, heading in the direction of her chambers.

Arthur thinks for only a moment, before rushing off, catching up with Merlin as he readied his horse, preparing for the journey to the outer walls:

“I’ll come with you. I find I quite enjoy watching you do magic, and to be perfectly honest, I could do with some fresh air to help me think.”

Arthur pretends to ignore the slight blush that dusts Merlin’s cheeks, and readies his own horse. The two of them ride out of the stables and make the journey down the cobbled roads in comfortable silence, side by side.

They take their time on the journey, and the 15 minutes of companionable silence is finally broken by Arthur, who looks at Merlin curiously, as he says:

“So what did they suggest?”

Merlin looks up sharply at that, broken from his deep train of thought as he dumbly replies “What?”

“The Druids. What was the stupid suggestion?” Merlin’s eyes widen at that, and he blushes once more as he looks determinedly forward:

“Oh. That. I told you, it doesn’t-”

“Merlin...”

“Oh fine! They suggested that I... that I forge a mental link with you. Like the one I have with them.” The sorcerer purses his lips at that, and continues to avoid Arthur’s gaze:

“You can do that? Well... would it be such a bad idea? I mean we aren’t going to be able to meet and discuss things as often as I’d like through this whole ordeal. AND you’re basically the Kingdom’s powerhouse, I’m sort of relying on your magical know-how here. Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing? For us to be able to converse across the battle fields?”

Arthur, in an effort to not be hurt, reminds himself that he doesn’t know all that much about magic, and it very well could be a stupid suggestion, instead of one that Merlin is just personally opposed to.

Merlin, in response, looks to Arthur in great shock, before sighing and looking down to his horses mane:

“It.... is possible. And fairly easy, technically. But it would be painful, AND permanent. I wouldn’t be able to undo it after we won. And a temporary connection takes far too much energy to maintain, even for a short time. I just figured you wouldn’t want me in your head for the rest of our lives.” He tries to inject a little humour into his words, but it falls flat, and he just seems sad.

Arthur pretends he doesn’t notice however, and responds quickly:

“How painful are we talking? I mean I’ve been hurt pretty badly before. And... how exactly does it work? Would we be able to read each other’s mind constantly, without the other knowing? Or what?”

Merlin raises his eyebrows in shock at that, and his answer comes out slowly as he looks at Arthur:

“Like... a really bad headache? Imagine the hardest you’ve ever been hit, without passing out. It would last for a few minutes after the connection is initially forged, but would fade slowly over the next day or so. And no. Once the connection is established we wouldn’t be in each other’s head all the time, we would just be able to sort of... project our voices to one another. Other thoughts would be safe, even if you were thinking about me, I wouldn’t hear it unless you were thinking to me... if that makes sense.”

By the end of his explanation, he’s looking nervously at the King, who is deep in thought:

“Hmm. Ok. I... only if you agree but... it might not be a bad idea. Even after the war is over. There have definitely been times where I’ve needed your opinion on something but you’ve been elsewhere, or we’ve been in the presence of someone else. Of course we’ve been fine so far, if you don’t want to, but-”

Merlin interrupts him, speaking quickly:

“I’m fine with it. I agree, it would be useful. So... I can bring what we need back from the camp tomorrow?”

Arthur nods firmly:

“Yes. The sooner the better, we can do it tomorrow evening, if that’s enough time for you?” Merlin once again looks shocked at this, as Arthur stares at him:

“Oh! Yeah, Yes. That’s fine. Like I said, it’s not particularly difficult, and I can ask Gaius to prepare us something for the pain during the day. Are you... are you sure? It is Permanent.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and huffs:

“Yes, you said that already Merlin. Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded his head decidedly, and spoke confidently:

“Yes. You’re right, it’s not a bad idea. Come on, if we hurry, we’ll make it to the walls, and then to the main well, and then back to the castle, before dark.”

The pair of them hurry their horses, and after another 10 minutes of comfortable silence, they finally reach the City Gates.

The guards give a quick bow, and The King and The Court Sorcerer jump off their horses before handing the reigns to one of the Gate stablehands.

Arthur (and the guards) watch in barely concealed wonder as Merlin presses his hands against the rock of the wall, and closes his eyes.

The golden glow can still be seen from below his eyelids, and he hums slightly as he frowns in concentration, seeming to push into the wall.

Arthur sees a short of... sheen, ripple across the rock, and extend into the sky. Merlin steps back and nods, admiring his handy work:

“They’re holding strong, I’ve extended the height as well. Kilgharrah and Aithusa should be the only ones able to get over it without alerting me now, from the air at least-”

Merlin heads to retake his horse, Arthur following him, before he continues:

“Though I still want to check the tunnels again at some point in the next few days.”

“Of course. Relax Merlin, it’s barely begun, and the borders still hold strong. We’ve plenty of time before things kick off in any way.” He makes sure to speak quietly. A public announcement hasn’t been made yet, and it would be bad if rumours started spreading before The King had time to put together a proper disclosure.

Merlin nods distractedly, and urges his horse to go faster as he heads towards the main well, in the town square. It’s late, not long until sunset, so there shouldn’t be many, if any, people there. Arthur speaks again:

“Why are we visiting the well? I wasn’t aware of any problems?”

“There aren’t any, but once the announcement is made, and once the outer villages are told what’s happening, we’ll have hundreds, probably thousands, of people flock to the city for safety. I just want to make sure we’re prepared for such an influx, and boost our water levels a little.”

Arthur nods at his response, but doesn’t say anything. He chooses instead to admire the man Merlin had become. He held himself differently, more strong, confident in who he was. Just like he had back when he was still a manservant, he served Arthur, and his people, above and beyond his job description. Merlin took upon himself, not only the politics he was supposed to oversee, but the personal safety of both the King, and every Camelot citizen, and he did it all with an alarming amount of grace.

Arthur sometimes catches himself thinking that it was almost as if Merlin was built to be a king. He may not like the spotlight, but he was a protector, and leader, unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you, Merlin. It feels like years ago now, that you yelled at me in a forest.” He says it with a grin, but Merlin flinches. He continues before The Sorcerer interrupts him though:

“Really Merlin. Thank you. You were right, I would’ve got there in the end, but it wasn’t fair for people to suffer in the mean time, and you took the fall in their place. You’re a hero to your people... and to me. You should be proud of your accomplishments, I know I am.”

Arthur resists the urge to duck his head as Merlin looks at him in bewilderment, a definite flush on his cheeks as he replies:

“I... thank you, Arthur. I always had faith in you-” Merlin begins to grin before he continues:

“-and besides, someone had to knock you down a peg. Perhaps you should hire someone to take you into the forest and yell at you every once in a while.”

Arthur laughs at that, and Merlin tries to push down the blush as Arthur responds:

“Now Merlin, why on earth would I hire someone for such a job, when I already have you?”

Merlin chuckles as he answers:

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it, My Lord. Hold the horses, I’ll just be a minute.” With that, Arthur realises they’ve made it to the well, and dismounts as Merlin has, holding both of the horses reigns as he watches Merlin approach the well.

The Sorcerer crouches down, and once again closes his eyes in concentration as he presses his hands into the stone of the well. The glow is a little less bright this time, but Arthur admires it nonetheless.

Merlin finishes quickly, and gathers his horse from Arthur once more, nodding towards the castle.

Arthur follows as Merlin hurries towards the looming building. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a rush, but he only begins questions it when Merlin hurriedly hands the horses of to a stablehand, and continues to run up the castle steps.

Arthur can only just keep up with Merlin, not having the breath to ask him what’s wrong, before Merlin suddenly comes to a stop, catching his breath for a moment to go through a door leading to the highest balcony on the West of the castle:

“Merlin... what.... what are you-”

Merlin wordlessly interrupts The King as he points to the skyline, the sun only a few minutes away from touching the horizon.

There’s not a cloud in sight, and the sky is painted in oranges and pinks in front of them, bleeding into deep purples and blues behind the castle.

Merlin finally mutters, not looking away from the sunset:

“Call me a girl all you want Arthur, but nothing compares to this. It’s beautiful, I come to watch it whenever I’ve got the time.”

Arthur had only glanced briefly at the sunset before looking back at Merlin in wonder, a fond smile on his face (not that Merlin would notice).

He stares at the side of Merlin’s face, the orange sky making the gold in his eyes look even brighter, and the glare of the fading sun making his hair shine. A gentle breeze has Merlin shiver slightly, and Arthur’s smile widens as he responds, so quietly he’s not even sure if Merlin hears him:

“Hmm. Beautiful.” He doesn’t look away.

THIS IS COMPLETED! All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific let me know✌️

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 8- Bastards From Space

Summary: These past couple years in Wakanda with Bucky have been the best. Who would have thought some aliens would be the thing to ruin it all.

Warning: violence, angst, reader being a bad bitch, things get intense

Masterlist

Today had started as normal as ever, you woke up with Bucky’s arm slung over your face, his body practically covering you like a human blanket. Then you two got out of bed, did your usual morning routines, and started your day with helping the Wakandians with whatever tough job needed done for the next however many hours.

Which as of now happens to be chopping wood; you sit comfortably on a spared thick log while Bucky smashes the Vibranium axe into another chunk of wood while you watch him with a mischievous smirk playing at your lips. “You’re doing a fantastic job with that by the way.”

Bucky sets another one down as a smile pulls at his handsome face, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes, your form is just...amazing.” You applaud, making a chefs kiss motion with your fingers as he chuckles before splitting another hunk in two.

“You know..” Starts Bucky as he sets the axe against his shoulder while you rest your knuckles against your chin, “this would go a lot faster if you helped me.”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to watch you doing your thing....and by the way you look real fine, did I mention that already?” You add with a click of your tongue while he throws you a humored glare of affection.

“I could use your help.”

You point to the wagon seated next to you, “I did, I threw all these bags and split wood in here so now I’m taking my earned break that I obviously get because I finished my job. You on the other hand don’t deserve an earned break.”

Bucky huffs, deciding to ignore your little bout of sass that so unmistakably is targeted to rile him up, so instead does he mumble out something incomprehensible just for himself to hear, “Yeah, and if we were in that hut I’d show you an earned break.”

Snickering, you cross your arms while studying Bucky’s concentrated face; his dark mane is all wet and unwashed, clothes a bit dirty and unkept with some sweat stains marking them from when you two sparred each other that morning. But God if you don’t think he’s the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth in your lifetime. How did you ever get so lucky?

He’s been a true beacon of hope and refuge since Romania, and you’re for certain that if not for one another’s found love. You’d both be much lonelier people.

“What’r you thinking about?” Mutters Bucky while you return from your drifting thoughts. Though soon you’re alerted to the sounds of walking in the grass that draws your attention to the hillside. “Why the fuck is T’Challa here?” You move to stand and a moment later King T’Challa and a couple of the Dora Milaje are walking down the grassy hill with something in their arms to greet the two of you. The king of Wakanda appears a tad bit distressed, face unusually more serious then what marks his features most days. You immediately know something is wrong.

Bucky shares a wary glance with you as the king greets you two with a nod, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Valerious.” One of his guardsmen unclasps the long black case only to reveal a Wakandian styled metal arm.

Bucky purses his lips as he looks down at the new appendage, “Where’s the fight.”

King T’Challa gives the two of you a hard expression, “On it’s way.”

——

After learning about some angry aliens on their way to take the mind stone from Vision, and that a good portion of the rouge Avengers are on their way to Wakanda. You and Bucky knew deep down something wild must be stirring in the universe for something as big as this to happen, something very bad indeed.

You just have no idea what.

Clasping your black armored top together, you move to put on the Wakandian black leathered Vibranium gauntlets that were gifted to you for this special occasion, not that it’s really that special, but you do look cool. The new armor feels solid and stable against your forearm as you focus on tightening the clasps when suddenly you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you.

“I know you’re looking at me.” You muse, side eyeing him.

He smiles, eyes never leaving you as you lock in the armor to your forearm. He studies the brilliant dark attire that’s laced with a vibrant golden hue, “You look like a warrior.” Admits Bucky almost in awe of how you’re currently looking.

You nod, “I’d feel a little out of place next to the Dora Milaje....but uh, this suit is nice.” You add with a shrug, “Comfortable and practical, they really know how to size right.”

“Yeah....” Mumbles Bucky with a breathy laugh while you focus on the task at hand, oblivious as to where his gaze wanders all over your vessel and the parts your new attire ever-so-slightly accentuates. He just thinks you’re so beautiful no matter how you look, and right now, in Bucky’s head you’re one fine specimen.

“How’s the new arm?”

Bucky’s wandering eyes soon shift down to the new dark plated Vibranium and golden laced metalwork, “Feels light. Like it’s apart of me you know? I still can’t believe how amazing their tech is.”

“I know right..” You pause for a moment, glancing warily over to the clock, “Well, guess we better get moving. Okoye said they’ll be here soon.” Bucky nods before zipping his jacket up the rest of the way and walking over to your side. He stops to buckle down the left side of your Wakandian styled black vest while you happily let him. Enjoying how close he is to you and the adorable way he sticks his tongue out when fully focused on a task.

Once done, Bucky takes a look at his handiwork, reaching to clasp your one hand with his. He smiles though a sadness hides behind those beautiful blues, “To battle?” Whispers Bucky.

Reaching a hand up to place a soft touch against his stubbled cheek, you smile fearlessly, “To battle.”

Soon the two of you are outside of T’Challa’s palace, standing off to the side as the king and his warriors greet the approaching Quinjet as it lands on the stone landing pad. A minute later, you catch the sight of a bearded Steve, a blonde haired Natasha, Sam, Bruce Banner, and lastly Wanda and Vision as they walk out side by side.

Vision looks hurt, and Wanda has a scar above her brow. Wonder what brute did that?

T’Challa welcomes the team before he nods and turns for them to follow, Vision and Wanda walk past you two as you finally see them clearer through the parting crowd, “How we looking?” Asks Natasha as she follows behind the king, Steve to her immediate right, the others following close behind them.

“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”

“And a semi-stable 100-year-old man.” Quips Bucky as all of you finally come face to face with one another, Steve immediately smiles as you walk next to Bucky. “Plus whatever the hell I am.” You jest as the two of them go in for a hug.

Natasha gives you a smirk as they part, “How you guys been?” Asks Steve, blue eyes flickering between you two.

Bucky looks over at you and shrugs, “Uh, not bad...”

“....for the end of the world.” You deadpan, causing Bucky to chuckle as well as Steve and Natasha.

“Well, it’s nice seeing you guys again...” Adds Steve as Natasha takes a step forward towards you. “We gotta stop meeting each other like this.” Quips the ex-assassin.

You snort at the little inside joke between the two of you, raising a brow at them, “You know, you guys don’t have to visit just because some aliens are threatening our entire existence. Couldn’t we have saved a reunion for a wedding or something?”

Steve sighs, “Yeah, that would have been preferred.”

“Too bad none of you invited us.” Smirks Natasha as she looks between you and Bucky with a raised brow of her own, his stubbled face growing a small shade of pink while you awkwardly cough, eyes darting elsewhere.

“Yeah, we’re getting there, Nat.” You mutter while rubbing the back of your neck, the thought of marrying Bucky has never actually crossed your mind. You love him, its just, you two married? Actually married? Would he even want that? You have no idea, maybe talking about it before the alien situation would have been helpful in the long run. Too late for that now, guess another time then.

“Alright, come with me upstairs my friends, my sister will see what can be done for your friend.” Adds T’Challa as he takes a step back, Steve, Natasha, and Bruce all following suit and through the doors they go inside to assess the Vision situation upstairs. Leaving Sam and Rodney.

You watch as Natasha’s body disappears behind the dark glass before turning around to meet a smiling Sam as he wanders closer to you and Bucky. Undoubtedly about to give you two a proper Sam-like greeting, “Nice to see you two weirdos again.” Chuckles Sam as he takes in how much or little you and Bucky have changed since a couple years ago.

“Can’t say the same.” Muses Bucky as you snicker at Sam’s half-offended reaction.

“I guess.....maybe....possibly.....it’s nice to see your annoying face, again.” You add, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nods, “Better then you coming to try and arrest us.”

“Alright, I’ll take it.” He smiles, “At least someone cares about me after all this time.” Side eyeing Bucky as he holds back a laugh.

“Never said that.” You mutter while shaking your head at him, “Definitely did not miss you at all.”

“You were thinking it.” Points Sam, “So was Bucky.”

“I wasn’t.”

About ten minutes later, after fully catching one another up on the happenings missed by the distance and time apart, the hair on the back of your neck pricks with the sound of something large and unfamiliar breaking into the atmosphere above. Soon a smoking metal ship crashes into the forcefield high above your heads, an explosion of fire and debris blasts in its wake as the destroyed object slides off the sides.

“God, I love this place.” Mutters Bucky as the three of you look to the sky.

“Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome.” Announces Rodney on the ear coms as your face falls when more blasts crash against the protective outer barrier of Wakanda.

“Fuck......I’ve never met an alien before.” You mumble as they look to you now, your eyes wide and fearful as you stare up at the sky, “And I don’t think I want to.”

Soon more glaring fiery balls come racing past high up in the clouds headed straight for the Wakandian forcefield, violently crashing against it though nothing pierces through much to your great relief. Not even a minute later T’Challa and the rest of the team are on ground level with the rest of you. Urging everyone into the advanced Wakandian vehicles, you file in close to Bucky and Natasha as the driver begins making haste for the huge fields beyond.

Wind flies wildly past your face as you observe the growing smoke rising up from the broken and burning forest from where the aliens have landed, where they’re preparing for battle far behind the protective forcefield.

The hover vehicle reaches its destination on the knee high grass, immediately everyone files out; your boots fall into the soft ground as you find yourself on the field positioned in between Steve and Bucky while the rest of the Wakandian army keeps strong from your left, right and rear.

It’s a small comfort having everyone so near but it still feels like a false protection; Bruce is held in the Hulkbuster suit standing high and strong above the rest, while Rodney and Sam keep to the skies as they circle around in anticipation for what’s to go down.

You wish you felt better about this, but you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to feel dangerous and fearless, you’re not fighting against mortal men this time. These are beasts from a whole other world with no intention of sparing a life, they don’t care for human problems, they’re here for one single goal and that’s to take the mind stone.

Heart beating nervously in your chest, you turn a worried glance over to Bucky who’s holding a large machine gun in his left arm, he sends you a reassuring nod as T’Challa walks over to speak with Steve.

“There’s two by the perimeter, what our next move?”

“We’ve met the female one before, I guess we’ll go see if they can be reasoned with, though I’m afraid of their answer.” Begrudgingly replies Steve, eyes set ahead at two figures approaching the forcefield. One a tall broad scaled being and the other a half pale faced woman with two dark horns rising upward from her temples.

Steve, Natasha, and king T’Challa collectively decide to walk the distance to face them while everyone else remains in suspense. They speak for about a minute before walking back to the rest of you as the giant alien machinery shifts and rises with strange movement.

“They surrender?” Mutters Bucky as Steve takes his place by your side.

“Not exactly.” Well that sounds fucking promising.

Your body begins shaking with adrenaline as loud thunderous rumbling emits from the forest, a second later, large dog-like creatures race madly out of the tree line headed at a dead sprint for the forcefield.

“What the fuck.” You mutter, brows furrowed in confused bewilderment as the foreign creatures slam violently against the forcefield with little regard for what its doing to them.

Natasha hums, “Looks like we pissed her off.”

You nod as some of the beasts force their way through the guarded perimeter, they scream in fury and pain while their bodies and limbs get phased by the power of the giant shield protecting Wakanda.

“They’re killing themselves.” You can hear Okoye mutter in fearful bewilderment as the screaming creatures push through their violent assault, soon about a dozen break through, racing furiously over the shallow river and across the large battlefield to where everyone is standing.

King T’Challa shouts the battle cry as his army calls their technologically advanced shields to arms in an instant. The alien creatures thunder across the grass, getting closer and closer as the army around you begin shooting them down as fast as they can.

Bullets fly past your head as Bucky begins aiming for the beasts, shooting them down with great accuracy as you breath heavily from your growing adrenaline. Sam and Rodney shoot from the sky; you watch more fall but a plethora of others begins running off to the sides as they attempt at searching for an alternative way around the forcefield.

T’Challa realizing this, calls for the opening of North-West Section Seventeen, which is the one right in front of you all. Well this is it then, you think nervously. Dreading how the events of today may play out within the next hour, or ten minutes for all you know.

“This will be the end of Wakanda.” Mutters M’Baku as the section is lifted.

Okoye nods, face stoic and fierce, “Then it will be the most noble ending in history.”

T’Challa steps to the front lines before valiantly shouting, “Wakanda forever!” And with that does the warriors cry with courage and might as everyone including you begins a dead sprint across the grassy field, pumping your arms hard, you feel a thrill of strange excitement pulsing throughout your entire vessel as your boots thunder against the ground in tune with the beasts that charge onward.

Steve races inhumanly fast, you right on his tail as T’Challa makes ground to your immediate right. The rest of your fellow warriors keeping up as best they can. You don’t remember ever unsheathing your claws, or when they sliced violently into the thick skin of the first alien you met.

But soon your hands are covered in the warm inky blood of the creatures you’ve killed as you don’t have time to think, only kill and survive is all your mind is on. You’re practically on autopilot as the beasts thrash and slash at everyone in sight.

Suddenly one of them traps you between it’s bear paws and the rough ground, sharp daggered teeth chomping at your face as you drive your fist straight through it’s jugular and back out again, instantly a spurt of sticky dark purple blood sprays onto the side of your face as you turn away from the gory scene.

Shoving it off of you, another one punts you into the rocky earth, in retaliation you throw a clawed fist right across its shoulder. Making sure to sink it in deep when you reach its stomach. Screams of pain are all you hear as it dies, going still as stone while you jump right back into the action.

Without warning, about three pin you to the ground while you grunt and groan from the weight and their knife sized claws digging into your armored sides, damn you’ve really had better days. Shoving your Adamantium talons right through it’s exposed chest, it immediately goes limp as it’s two friends strain to reach you while it’s annoyingly bulky vessel pins you to the rough ground.

Your lungs struggle to take in a decent breath when suddenly a crack of lighting sounds throughout the battlefield, a second later the large alien bodies are thrown off of you from the force of bright white electricity, killing them instantly.

Sucking in a deep breath of relief and general oxygen, you jump to your feet only to take notice of a blonde man in some type of royal armor with an axe in one hand and sparks of lighting in the other. Oddly enough, a raccoon and a walking humanoid tree to either side as he scans the horizon before turning around and belting out, “Bring! Me! Thanos!” Before taking flight as more electricity sparks and shoots all around him.

Yeah, alright that’s normal. At least they’re on your side.

He lands and a giant plethora of white hot lighting emits all around him, killing many of the alien creatures where they stand. Though there’s no time to celebrate this small victory when giant circular machines of war burst forth from the ground, many going in different directions, but these couple begin heading straight in yours.

Eyes widening in fear, you book it in the opposite direction as T’Challa yells for his men to fall back for the tree line, your heart races a mile a minute as you force yourself to keep running through the exhaustion and slight pain in your left thigh from a heeling bite mark.

But just as the razored metal closes in behind you, a bright whispy red halts it in its place. Turning towards the source, you’re almost comforted to find Wanda at the hands of the machinery’s demise. She yells, throwing her hands back as the metal clashes across the battlefield, killing the beasts as they go.

And she was up there this whole time?

Turning to face more foes, you look over to notice as the female alien stalks across the ruined battlefield towards Wanda at an alarmingly hefty pace, dark rusted yellow eyes set and predatory as she reaches her oblivious prey. Smacking her armored fist across Wanda’s head, the Sokovian tumbles into a ditch, horned lady alien trailing after her.

Shit, you should do something.

Taking out another beast, you book it over to help Wanda, jumping into the wide trench behind the woman, you catch the end of her heated threat to Wanda, “He’ll die alone. As will you.” Venom tripping off of her every word, God why are they so angry?

“She’s not alone.” You growl, face painted with inky purple blood, claws shimmering in the sunlight as she whips around to face you. Her eyes trail over your body as she scowls in deep irritation, before handing her an unfriendly smirk, “Come on you ugly fuck.” You growl.

She lunges at you, weapon drawn as you dodge her deadly blow by the sharp thin blade. She quickly whips around and is kindly greeted by your claws that rips the dull white flesh of her lower face. Blood seeps out as she screams, face flaring a fierce anger as she powers through and thrusts her blade into your left shoulder. Fucking bitch!

You’re immediately greeted with a sharp stinging pain that rips violently into your body from the assault. A boot rudely kicks you backwards onto the hard earth as Okoye smacks her dagger across the woman’s back, distracting her from trying to end your life. Like that would work.

Blood pools hot and angry out of your opened flesh while Okoye and Natasha handle the horned bitch from behind you and Wanda. Your hands push you off the gravely earth as Wanda shares a fearful glance with you, giving her a pursed lip grin. You jump to your feet and assess the escalating situation before you; Okoye is breathing heavily on the ground as Natasha holds back the woman with her shocking stick while pinned on her back, straining to keep the opposing blade away from her throat.

“Hey!” You shout, causing the woman to lift her gaze from Natasha to you, she doesn’t even have a second to react as your clawed fist slashes a deadly blow across her face. She immediately stumbles back in shock as blood spirts wildly out of her deep cuts, her eyes going wide as saucers when you land a powerful kick into her lower torso, sending her body flying upwards only to be mauled by one of the circular razors rolling past.

Blue blood marking your already dirty face, you turn to look down at Natasha as she glances between the three of you, face dotted in blue blood just the same, “That was really gross.” Grimaces the blonde as you give the others a once over before jumping back out into the action.

Minutes fly by as you fight your way to the tree line closest to the Wakandian palace, suddenly Steve’s voice is heard in the coms, “Everyone, on my position. We have incoming.” And with that do you follow Bucky and T’Challa as they race into the woods where Steve, Natasha, Sam, Bruce, and Wanda is protectively holding Vision as they keep seated on the grassy earth.

Collecting your breath, you walk over to Bucky as everyone feels a soft hunting breeze blowing the trees around, “Something’s not right.” You mutter worriedly as he shares a nervous look with you.

“I know. Just stay close to me.”

You nod before giving him a weak reassuring smile, a moment later a strange anomaly of purple, blue, and dark grey clouds present themselves a small distance in front of you all. A tall figure of great stature and physical strength walks out from the odd whispy mass, he’s larger then anyone you’ve ever seen before, skin colored purple and golden laced armor of another world.

“Cap. That’s him.” Announces Bruce as you heart begins racing once more, oh shit oh shit oh shit. Fuck he’s really big.

Steve raises his two arm shields, “Eyes up. Stay sharp.” As he starts walking in the direction of you’re assuming is this Thanos everyone has been talking about.

Hulkbuster thunders past, but as Bruce reaches Thanos, his body turns a transparent blue and falls right through the purple alien before lodging himself in the rock of the ascending cliffside.

Steve’s next as he throws himself at Thanos, the titan uses his golden gauntlet when a sudden purply wisp of energy throws Steve into the trees. T’Challa lunges, but is swiftly stopped when Thanos’ giant hand wraps around his throat. He’s then thrown him down like a ragged doll; Sam is next, wings fold in on themselves and soon he’s down too.

Rodney right after as Thanos uses the gauntlet to crush him from within his suit, he’s promptly thrown to the side like a rock. Bullets fly violently through the air as Bucky fires shot after shot at the purple titan to no avail, he’s thrown across the ground like nothing.

Terrified yet too much full of rage to think, you race for the bastard titan as he pushes Okoye to the side, Natasha left disabled when tree roots throw themselves around her. He quickly takes notice as you jump on the roots, heading straight for him with an animistic rage flashing through your eyes.

His fist rises as he calls more roots to action, you skillful dodge their grip as you make a desperate jump for the titan below you now. He’s fast, but not fast enough to evade your clawed fist, the middle razor slashes a clean line right across his left eye as you tumble to the ground behind him, finding your footing in an instant.

Yourself now between him and the mind stone that’s currently getting destroyed by a tearful Wanda from behind you, though you’re not paying enough attention to fully realize what’s going down, you breath heavily while eyeing up the bulky man.

The pissed off titan whips around to meet your courageous glare, left eye missing, dripping with warm purple blood that trails like an ugly waterfall down his scared cheeks until it spatters to the forest floor. Face now visibly angered and very much in pain as he stares you down.

He takes a threatening step forward as you take a cautious one back, eyeing you up, he nods, “A clean hit, I’m afraid this one won’t heal for me unfortunately...nonetheless, I am impressed by your valor small one, but your bravery will be in vain.” Speaks the titan as you stare up at him with shaky breaths.

oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

A second later the power of his golden gauntlet sends you flying into the trunk of a thick tree, knocking you out on impact.

When you awaken with a jolt, your nose is wet with drying crimson that trails across your lips and chin. Nothing hurts anymore but your body feels incredibly weird, taking in a deep breath, you stand on shaky legs. Eyes scanning the area only to find a confused Thor who’s looking rather dreadful and lost.

Steve quickly runs up to him, eyes searching around for Thanos who’s nowhere to be seen, “Where’d he go?” Wonders Steve as you slowly walk over to them, “Thor....Where’d he go?” Asks Steve more urgently this time, blue eyes looking around to no avail. Thanos is gone. Just like that.

But how?

You quickly catch movement to your left, but it’s just Bucky walking over to the three of you. Heart filled with relief, you start walking over to him as he locks eyes with you, a confused expression crossing over his features as he looks over at his left arm.

You follow his puzzled gaze and watch as his arm begins to disintegrate like ash on a windy day. Bucky finds your concerned face; panic, confusion, and fear flashing through his stormy irises as he takes another desperate step to reach you, “Y/N?” Is all you hear as the rest of his body begins turning to dust right before your very eyes.

His gun falls to the ground with a thud as the rest of his body disintegrates to nothing more then ash and dust upon the grass. You freeze, it feels like your heart as just been frozen in ice and smashed with a steel sledgehammer without remorse.

You swallow, walking on trembling legs to where his ashes remain, you slowly kneel. Hand touching the area as delicately as you would hold a newborn, this isn’t real this is just a shitty dream and you’ll wake up any second with him right by your side.

It’s just a dream. But you know, it’s not.

Steve wanders to your side before kneeling down and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip to hold the lump back that’s building in the back of your throat, you turn your head to meet him, your eyes glossed over with unshed tears.

He lowers his head in defeat as you stare bitterly back down at the ground where Bucky once was, lip quivering uncontrollably as you fight back a waterfall of hidden tears. The pain in your heart almost too much to bear. “Sam! Where are you?!” Shouts Rodney, a voice to bring you back to the world.

No, not the others too. How many did he take?

Blinking hard, a couple stray tears patter onto the brown ashes as you rise, Steve doing the same, you watch as he walks over to Vision who’s void of all color and taken of all life, a small crater marking the demise of his life force, the mind stone.

He kneels down to meet the body as Natasha runs into view, she quickly halts once her gaze falls onto Visions corpse, mouth agape in shock. Bruce, Rodney, that little raccoon, and Thor coming to from behind them as you amble closer to the distraught six, though your legs feel like they could give out at any moment.

“What is this?” Wonders Rodney as he looks from Steve to you and then over to Thor, “What the hell is happening?”

Tears stream silently down the sides of your cheeks now, they make a clean line from all the other dirt and blood that marks your skin. Breathing heavily, Natasha looks over to you, “Y/N?” She asks, voice wavering as her eyes trail over your mournfully stoic face.

He can’t be gone, not Bucky, not him.

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #marvel imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #tfatws #tfatws x reader

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 32: Beginnings

Chapter 31

Read on AO3

December 31

“Faith, baby, wake up.”

Currently, her little face was smooshed against Jamie’s shoulder, lips open in sleep. It was 11:55, and Faith was down for the count at 9:00 this year, despite having made it all the way to midnight last year. It was probably due to the fact that she was up at three in the morning last night, stimming and screaming her head off with glee until breakfast, Risperdal and Angus no match for the will of autism and a wound up five year old. Even Claire was entirely too exhausted to be awake, New Year or not, but she wouldn’t have missed this party for the world.

“Come on, lass,” Jamie jostled Faith a bit in his arms. “I’ve got ye a wee blower. I ken ye like those.” He tickled her nose with the noiseless paper blower, and she stirred, rubbing her nose roughly against his shoulder. Jamie and Claire both chuckled.

“Come on, Faithie! It’s almost midnight! New Year! Remember?”

Her eyes opened, rather reluctantly.

“There she is,” Jamie said. “Here ye go.”

He deposited the blower in her hands, and she seemed to completely wake up in a split second.

“I wish mine was sleeping,” Jenny groused, watching her son run circles around the coffee table with Thomas and a few typical siblings that were as hyper as he was. “I wouldna be waking him up fer anything.”

“Believe me, I know I shouldn’t be waking her,” Claire said. “After the morning we had. But little celebrations are very important to Faith. Right, lovie?”

The little girl was currently preoccupied blowing into her toy and allowing the unfurling paper to hit Jamie in the face. He was giving quite an animated, exaggerated reaction that was sending Faith into fits of giggles that kept her wanting more.

“What did I tell ye,” Jenny mumbled. “He’s a giant child.”

Claire snorted, shaking her head lovingly. “I do love that about him.”

“It’s good he’s found someone who does.”

Mary and Alex had been more than happy to add Jamie and his entire family to the invite list once Claire had timidly asked. She’d felt strange doing it; it was one thing to ask to bring her boyfriend that was practically Faith’s father, and entirely another thing to ask to bring three more adults and two more children that they’d never met. Jenny had offered that they’d find something to do on their own, that Claire needn’t bother, but Claire had insisted that they spend the holiday together, even if Mary and Alex couldn’t swing it. She’d been fully prepared to have the entire Fraser-Murray clan in her apartment.

But Mary had been surprisingly enthusiastic about having Jamie’s family over, intrigued as she was by the man himself, and invested as she was (from the beginning) in their relationship.

“His sister is terrifying,” Mary had whispered after the first few minutes of the party. “She looks stone cold.”

“She’s not,” Claire assured her. “We get along really well. She’s really quite lovely underneath all that. You’ll see.”

With under a minute left until the new year began, Claire got up from where she’d been perched on the arm of the couch, and Jamie stood up with Faith. Ian scooped his wriggling son off the floor and settled him on his hip while Jenny reminded him with no little bite in her voice that he was not to scream and clap when the ball dropped.

“It’s a different kind of party, a quiet party. D’ye understand?”

“Aye, Mam.”

Maggie had been asleep for hours in her stroller, among a throng of other babies and toddlers strewn around the living room in carriers and strollers, but Brian scooped her up, careful not to wake her. Gillian slid in next to Claire and laced their hands together, just as she had always done for the countdown.

“Bit different this year, no?” Gillian whispered, smiling.

“Yes…a bit,” Claire smiled crookedly at Gillian, then up at Jamie.

“I hope it keeps getting different,” Gillian said, shoving her lightly with her shoulder. “If ye ken my meaning.”

Claire blushed furiously. Before she could open her mouth to reply, to chide her friend for implying right in front of Jamie that they ought to be married for the next New Year, the countdown from ten began, a quiet chant bubbling through the crowded living room. Jamie wound his arm around Claire’s shoulder, the arm that was not holding Faith, careful not to disrupt her grip on Gillian’s hand. Claire couldn’t put her finger on why that touched her as much as it did. His care to never overstep, to simply be an addition to their lives and never a replacement, always touched her.

“Five, four, three, two, one!”

Before Claire could blink, Gillian was loudly and grossly kissing her cheek, and she laughed out loud, grimacing in disgust.

“Of all the obnoxious…”

“Just staking my claim!” She winked up at Jamie, who was jolting violently with laughter.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…”

“Ach, come here, lass.”

Claire craned her neck up as Jamie squeezed her shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her soundly. Claire felt Gillian give her hand one final squeeze before releasing it, and Claire used it to cup his face. This was by far not Claire’s first midnight kiss on New Year’s…but God, none of them had ever felt like this. Like a beginning, a promise, a gift, all in one.

They had to break away when Faith’s paper blower kept smacking both of their cheeks.

“You silly goose, happy new year, love,” Claire said, giggling. She signed it, coaxing Faith to copy. They’d been working on that one with her in school, along with Merry Christmas. “Yes, good job, baby. Tell Jamie, tell him happy new year.”

She did, rather lazily and hastily, preferring to blow the paper blower in his face again.

“Aye, happy new year to you too, ye wee heathen.”

Jamie kissed Faith’s cheek, and she squealed, squirming away. It became a game; every smack from the unfurling paper blower earned her a kiss on the cheek from her chosen victim. Jamie and Claire kept it going until Jenny popped over to wish them a happy new year, and Faith was blowing into her face too, and getting kiss after kiss from her Auntie, her Uncle Ian, and her Grandda. She was acting like she hated being bombarded like this, but Claire knew she was loving every second.

Claire turned around to find Gillian, to tell Faith to wish her a happy new year as well, but she was a bit busy getting her own New Year’s kiss. Toni had been with friends before arriving at 11:30 to watch the ball drop with Gillian, and soon they’d be off together to get wasted until God knows when with Toni’s friends. Toni had initially felt weird about coming at all, given that most, if not all of the attendees were kids and families she worked with, and Gillian had scoffed.

“If ye think Mister Jamie isna going to be snogging his lass in front of all the kids…”

That had earned her a smack on the arm from Claire.

Well, if anyone was closest to snogging, it was Gillian herself. Though it wasn’t all that bad; Toni and Gillian knew better considering the company they were in.

Claire turned back to Jamie to see that he was looking at the pair of them as well. They both smiled at each other, then pecked each other again.

“Happy New Year, Sassenach.”

“Happy New Year, my love,” Claire answered, nuzzling his nose with hers. “Here’s to more beginnings.”

“Aye.” He kissed her nose. “You are my beginning, Claire.” He kissed her right cheek. “And my middle,” then her left, “and my end.” He punctuated his profession with another kiss, and Claire melted.

She didn’t think she’d ever find a way to compete with his Shakespeare-like tendency for flowery words of love…but she didn’t think he minded.

——

January 15

Claire glanced nervously at the tea kettle, near to whistling already.

“It’s no’ a ticking time bomb, Sassenach,” Jamie chided.

“I know that,” she snapped.

“Hey…come on, now.” He sat down at the table and tried to meet her eye, and she obliged guiltily.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he brushed it off. “Ye said her first interview went great. What are ye so nervous about this time around?”

“Last time I scrubbed the apartment top to bottom, I picked up every barbie and lego and dog toy, cleaned out any leftovers that might have smelled…” She put her head in her hands. “I could prepare, you know? But there’s really no preparing someone for Faith. Or vice versa.”

“I see,” Jamie said. He took her hand, rubbing circles on her knuckles. “But listen. Ye said she was sweet as anything, sounded like she and Faith would get along great. And even if they don’t…it’s no’ the end of the world. There’s dozens of other staff that Morgan can pull out of her file. One of ‘em, or two, I suppose, are bound to be a good fit. No?”

“I know.” Claire sighed, squeezing his hand. “I know. Thank you. It’s just this…lingering panic from the days where every introduction was a disaster, and the disaster was my fault.”

“Those days are over, Sassenach.”

“I know.”

The previous day, Jamie had taken Faith to the park while Claire interviewed two potential candidates for Self Direction staff for Faith. Claire had done research before their move, and had applied for the program as soon as she’d gotten her work visa. She’d been told it would be one or two years before things would be set in motion for Faith to actually have staff, which is why she’d had to resort to finding Mrs. Lickett and paying her out of pocket all this time. Two weeks ago, Claire had finally been set up with a broker, Morgan, and from here on out, Medicaid would be paying Mrs. Lickett and the two new staff. Never again would Claire have to stress about being home in time to take Faith to the stables; that was something staff could do. There was always staff with some of the other kids at the stables, and Claire had always looked on longingly at the relationships they had. She’d go with them, of course, for the first few weeks, get Faith used to going with someone new, but in the long run, it would save her a lot of trouble.

The tea kettle started screaming, and Claire jumped up to stop it just as there was a knock on the door.

“I got it,” Jamie went for the kettle, nodding toward the door. “Go on.”

Claire smiled gratefully, feeling frantic and rushed despite the fact that she’d been sitting waiting for Leina’s arrival for twenty minutes now. Faith was climbing on the windowsill again to see who it was, and Claire pulled her down, lest she upset her plants (again). Claire wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans before opening the door.

“Hi!”

“Hi, Leina, great to see you again.”

Claire ushered the girl inside. She was petite for her age, twenty years old with shimmering dark hair and olive skin.

“Oh my goodness, is this Miss Faith?”

The little girl in question cowered behind Claire’s legs, wrapping her arms around her thigh for dear life.

“Yes, here she is.” Claire cupped Faith’s head. She beckoned Angus over in case Faith started getting upset over Leina’s presence. “And that’s Angus.”

“Wow, Faith. You have a really nice dog. Is he your best friend?” Leina signed friend, and Claire smiled.

“Go on, Faith. Tell Miss Leina that Angus is your friend.” Claire crouched down, so Faith latched onto her shirt instead, hiding her face in her mother’s hair. “Go on, tell her.” Faith signed friend, still not looking at Leina. “Good job.”

“That’s awesome, Faith. Good job,” Leina said warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Jamie appeared from the kitchen just then, and Faith bolted away from Claire and right into Jamie’s legs. Knowing exactly what she wanted, Jamie sighed and picked her up.

“Hi there,” he said. “I’m Jamie.” He stuck out a hand for Leina to shake, and Faith buried her face in his shoulder, her plan to retreat to Jamie apparently backfiring.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Claire told me so much about you.”

Leina had been incredibly receptive to the unusual family unit that Claire had presented her with. She hadn’t asked any questions when Claire had said that the father was not in the picture, she’d smiled widely when she’d explained Jamie’s role in their lives. Claire hadn’t wanted to bombard any candidates with “the boyfriend” before she knew it wasn’t going to be uncomfortable, which is why she’d had Jamie take Faith out.

“Do you want tea?” Claire jumped in. “The kettle just finished.”

“Oh, sure, thanks so much.”

Leina had accepted Claire’s offer of tea last time, so this time, Claire made sure to have everything ready, remembering just how Leina had liked it. When she returned with it, Jamie was gently yet firmly telling Faith that she needed to play, that she could not sit on his lap until Leina left. She silently thanked him as she handed the mug to Leina, knowing that he was preparing Faith for the eventuality of Leina playing with her.

Leina and Jamie sat on opposite ends of the couch, and Claire perched herself on the arm on Jamie’s side so as to not crowd the girl.

“So,” Jamie began, chipper. “Claire tells me ye’re in school for special education.”

“Yeah, sophomore year at Hofstra,” she said. “I went into it because my brother has autism, too.”

“Right, Claire told me. He’s verbal, though?”

“Yeah, I’ve never worked one-on-one with a nonverbal child, but I’ve interacted with them in a group setting where someone else was in charge.”

“And ye know signs?”

“Jamie,” Claire chided quietly. “It’s not an interrogation.”

Leina blushed, but she laughed. “It’s okay, I get it.”

“She was signing to Faith when she got here,” Claire said.

“Yeah, I’m not fluent by any means, but I know some.”

“Well, neither is Faith,” Claire said. “She’s absolutely still a beginner, and so am I, really. Jamie is the expert.”

Leina chuckled again.

“So, remind me of your availability?” Claire said.

“I’ve got class and volleyball Monday through Friday, except I’m free Wednesday nights.”

“Well, ye need time to do homework,” Jamie said reasonably. “Especially if we eat up yer weekends. Unless you want Wednesday nights?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all! I’m totally used to squeezing schoolwork into my schedule.”

“Well, the more hours the better, right?” Claire said with finality. “Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday it is.”

“Wow, okay, great.”

Granted she gets along with Faith, of course.

“D’ye have any questions fer us?” Jamie asked.

“Claire answered a lot of them yesterday, but I’d love to hear more about what Faith does at the stables?”

Jamie then launched into the whole process, including her transition to a new therapist given the new situation. He even went into the science behind the therapy, why it was effective, how it changed children’s bodies and minds. Claire adored watching him like this, going on and on about the part of his life he was most proud of, Faith’s presence in that part of his life making it all the more sweet.

When the conversation petered out, they all knew it was time for Leina to attempt to talk to Faith. She’d been playing a video on her tablet and waving around a mermaid barbie, Angus’s head in her lap. Leina sat on the floor about four feet away from her and waved.

“I really like your mermaid, Faith. She’s super pretty.”

Claire and Jamie watched with bated breath, clinging far too tightly to one another given that they had company.

“Can you tell me what color her tail is?”

Faith kept her eyes on her tablet screen.

“Faith, I want to talk to you. I think it’s time to turn off the tablet.”

Claire bit her lip fiercely, her stomach flipping.

“Faith, listen to Miss Leina,” she said firmly. “Turn off the tablet. It’s all done.”

Leina threw a grateful smile her way as Faith exited out of all her apps and turned it off.

“Good girl,” Claire said.

“Thank you, Faith,” Leina said sweetly. “Can you tell me what color tail your mermaid has?”

Faith kept her eyes downcast, fidgeting with Angus’s fur, but she signed: blue.

“Yeah! Good job!” Leina said. “And what else?”

Faith signed purple.

“Yeah! So pretty, right?” Faith wiggled the doll, biting her lip. “Can you use your device to find colors?”

Faith picked up her communication tablet and said blue, then, when Leina prompted, purple.

“Yeah! Good job, Faith. What about her hair? What color is her hair?”

Yellow.

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

Faith giggled.

Claire felt Jamie’s eyes on her, and she glanced down at him. His eyes were wide, and he was grinning, making a “she’s amazing” face if Claire had ever seen one. Claire beamed back at him, and then Leina and Faith were shuffling into Faith’s room. Claire could hear Leina prompting Faith to name everything in her room, could hear the device answering, and could hear Leina’s praise when she signed colors.

“I’m seriously going to cry if this doesn’t work out,” Claire said. “I love her.”

“I do too,” Jamie said quickly. “Did ye tell her how much Faith loves naming colors?”

“No! I didn’t! She just knew exactly what to do!”

“Christ, I might cry if it doesn’t work out.”

Before long, they’d exhausted every item on Faith’s tablet to name things in her room, and then Claire heard the rattling of a puzzle.

“Do you think Leina is getting it? Or Faith?”

“Dinna ken.”

“Shh!”

“A puzzle? Do you want to do a puzzle with me?”

“She brought it to her!” Claire repeatedly smacked Jamie’s shoulder.

“Aye, I can hear!”

Faith, on her own, of her own volition, was inviting Leina to play with a toy of her choosing, one of her favorites, of all things.

“It’s working out, Jamie! It’s working out!”

“Shh!” It was his turn to hush her, her whispering getting a bit too loud. “Ye’re gonna scare her away, then it’ll be yer fault it doesna work out.”

“Oh, don’t even say that.”

Jamie squeezed her shoulder, reassuring her. “Nah, Sassenach,” he whispered. “Ye’re right. It’s working out.”

——

Valentine’s Day was a grueling Tuesday, a long day and a late night. Despite her exhaustion, Claire didn’t even have it in her to trudge up the staircase to her front door; it was bloody freezing outside. She shivered and breathed heavily as she fumbled with the key, opening and shutting the door so fast, she didn’t even see him right away.

He was there, as he’d been on their one month and a few anniversaries after that when she was working, and she’d somehow never managed to notice his car parked on the street any time. He was sitting with Amy, the other staff they’d taken on along with Leina. He could have sent her home before Claire arrived, but he’d likely not wanted to cut the woman’s hours short. She was a forty year old divorcee with children of her own and other clients already; she’d been looking to fill in holes in her week so she’d be closer to a forty hour work week. Faith got along with her just as well as she had with Leina.

“Hi,” Claire stammered, a little breathless.

“Hi there,” Jamie said, standing and revealing a ridiculous bouquet of roses. He never showed any shame in doting on her in front of whoever was there with Faith any given night, no matter how it made Claire blush.

She sighed with forced exasperation, given Amy’s presence, but she could feel her cheeks getting hot, burning hot.

“He’s just the sweetest thing, isn’t he?” Amy said, zipping up her coat, throwing her purse over her shoulder, and pulling her keys out.

“Yes…” Claire cleared her throat. “Ehm, thank you, Amy. She was good?”

“Oh, yeah, just fine,” Amy said. “I’ll get out of your hair. See you Thursday.”

“Yes, see you Thursday,” Claire replied, and with a gust of piercing cold that was there and gone, Amy left.

“Jamie…when are you going to—”

Claire was abruptly cut off by a mouth on hers, Jamie’s to be specific. She whimpered in shock, but then melted into him.

“Ye have no idea what that blush of yers does to me, mo ghraidh.”

This only deepened said blush, and he kissed random parts of her face, and it took her a moment to deduce that he was following the path of her blush, as it grew more blotchy and red by the minute. The longer he held her, the less often she found herself shivering, and she moaned in delight, stopping his kisses to bodily press herself against him.

“You’re so warm…” she mumbled, clinging to him. “I’m freezing.”

“Aye, so ye are.” He tenderly rubbed her arms, then took her hands in his, covering them completely. “This help?”

“God, yes…” she groaned.

“Careful of those wee noises, Sassenach,” Jamie warned, his eyes dancing with mirth. “I’ll no’ have much restraint left by the time ye’re warm enough to undress.”

She groaned again, this time in dread, shoving her face into his chest. “Can’t you just fuck me in my coat?”

He snorted into her hair, wrapping his arms fully around her, rocking gently. “Ah, Sassenach. I could make love to ye in anything, any time, anywhere.”

He kissed the crown of her head, and she shivered for an entirely different reason. “Thank you for the roses,” she murmured into his shirt. “They’re lovely. You really didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did,” he said, sounding almost offended. “That’s what a man does fer his lass on Valentine’s day.”

“And what about a lass for her lad?” Claire said.

“I got the Starbucks and chocolates at the stables,” he assured her. “Toni even heated up the coffee in the back room so it’d be ready when I got there.”

“That was good of her,” Claire said fondly. “Doesn’t feel like enough, though.” She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “Nothing I could ever give you would ever be enough to show you how much I love you.”

“D’ye think a few dozen roses are enough to show how much I love you?” He shook his head, aghast. “I could fill this room, this apartment, the whole island, the whole world wi’ roses or anything else ye could ever want, and it would never come close.”

Claire’s self-deprecating pout morphed into a liquid smile, and she kissed him sweetly. She shook her head as she pulled away. “Nothing I could ever say would work, either.”

He chuckled. “Dinna fash, lass.” He kissed her again, harder, more urgent. “When I hold yer small, hot body in my arms, and ye look into my eyes, ye make that face while we make love…”

“What face?”

He hushed her. “…That’s more than enough for me to ken the truth of yer heart. Ye give me so much wi’ yer body, Sassenach. D’ye understand?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she exhaled with a tremble. “I understand.”

He kissed her one more time, then kissed her nose, then her forehead. “D’ye think a nice hot shower would warm ye up? Or d’ye just want to burrow into yer blankets?”

“No, that actually sounds like a lovely idea. As long as there are blankets awaiting me after.”

“Of course.”

“And as long as there’s a big, warm, human-furnace Scot awaiting me after.”

“Of course.”

“Although…you don’t have to wait until after.”

She gave his arse a smack, and he growled, swiping for her, but missing as she sidestepped him.

“Be a dear and start the water, won’t you? I want to put these in a vase.”

He shook his head, smirking darkly at her. “As ye wish, Milady.”

By the time Claire arranged the roses to her satisfaction and put them on a counter, far enough away from the edge that Faith couldn’t stretch and knock them over, the shower was steaming as she approached it. Jamie’s shirt was already off, and she fought the urge to lick her lips at the sight.

“You’re in luck, my lad,” Claire said. “You’re going to get me naked after all.”

He chuckled as he undid his fly. “How d’ye know that wasna my intention all along?”

“You brute!” she said, feigning an obnoxious damsel voice. “Baring my body for your own selfish needs rather than for my own comfort!”

He pulled his pants down, laughing heartily. “Ach, dinna fash. Your needs will be duly met, my Sassenach.”

Claire chuckled, heat gathering in her core. She sputtered then, realizing she was still in her bulky winter coat in the middle of the steaming bathroom. She made a mock-striptease of removing it, and Jamie shook his head, laughing. As each new area of skin was revealed, she broke out into gooseflesh, shivering violently.

“Come on, lass,” Jamie purred, now fully naked along with her. “Let’s get ye warm.”

The hot, nearly scalding water was a balm, and in a mere ten seconds, she’d stopped shivering. She sighed, leaning bodily against Jamie, not wanting to hold herself up, yet not willing to lean against the cold tile walls. She wrapped her arms around his torso as he slid his hands up and down her back, her arse, her shoulders, gliding smoothly in the water. When he took healthy handfuls of her arse with both hands, kneading and squeezing, pulling apart and pushing together, she could stand it no longer, and she stretched up to kiss him.

Oh, yes, she was quite warm now.

Tongues danced, teeth nipped, lips suckled, and Claire stroked Jamie’s hot, searing length until he begged her to stop before he spoiled the rest of the evening. Claire knew it was taking all of his control to not bend her over and have her right then, but he restrained himself, scrubbing her body gently and thoroughly, washing her hair and massaging her scalp with all the tender care in the world. She returned the favor, unable to resist a kiss here and there, as he’d been unable.

When they were satisfied with their cleanliness, the kissing resumed, and then Jamie was turning her around, kissing down her back, her arse, her thighs, getting onto his knees.

“Hold on, mo ghraidh.”

His breathy purr brushed against her, and she shivered, despite the chill in her bones having been long gone. She braced herself on the wall, not at all certain that she wouldn’t slip, and then he thoroughly devoured her, sending her reeling with his mouth alone. She came hoarsely, sharply, trying to curl her fingers into something but finding nothing but slippery tile. Jamie was on his feet in an instant, catching her around the waist, holding her up, cupping the tender spot he’d abandoned to stop her fall. She gratefully rode his hand, gyrating lazily, riding out what was left of her orgasm, her head thrown back into the crook of his neck.

He cupped her until the aftershocks ceased, and then his hands roamed up to squeeze her breasts, as if they were the only thing keeping him upright. He was hard as a rock against the small of her back, and Claire ground her arse against him, giggling when he groaned in misery.

“Come on, love,” she purred, shutting off the water. “I’m all warm now.”

Jamie stepped out and quickly dried himself off, stopping Claire before he was done.

“Let me.”

And, despite how painfully aroused he must have been, he tenderly patted down every inch of her, squeezed out her hair methodically, gently. He then wrapped her in a second, dry towel, something Claire never allowed herself to do, and he scooped her up in his arms, leaving the two wet towels on the bathroom floor, and carrying her, naked, to the bedroom. Claire locked the door for him after he shut it with his foot, and they giggled into a kiss as Jamie walked her onto the bed. He laid her down among rose petals that he’d likely scattered hours ago, and she shook her head at his thoughtfulness. She watched as he lit candles, resting her head on her hand and biting her lip to keep from laughing at the extravagance of it all. He flicked off the light when the candles were lit to his satisfaction, and then he turned back to her.

“Hurry back,” she whined, only partly joking. “I’m getting cold again.”

He wasted no time, closing the distance to the bed and rolling her onto her back, hovering over her.

“Canna have that.”

He unfolded her towel and kissed every inch of her pebbling skin, as if kissing away the goosebumps. He stayed for a while on her nipples, lapping at her there until she was panting and arching her hips into the air.

“Warm enough yet?” He smirked up at her from between her breasts, and she nodded desperately.

A man on a mission, Jamie tossed aside her towel and finally, finally straddled her, bracing himself on his elbows so their mouths were inches apart.

“God…” he groaned, kissing her one more time as his tip teased her entrance. “I’m the happiest man alive.”

“I love you…” Claire murmured, and then with one snap of his hips he was fully sheathed within her, as if the words propelled him forward against his will.

He tried to take his time, Claire could tell, but it didn’t take long for him to take up a maddening pace, slamming into her, and then rubbing rough circles on her clit so she could follow him into oblivion. She did, losing her grip on reality so thoroughly that she did not know where she ended and he began, did not know whose cries she was hearing.

She quite literally didn’t open her eyes again, physically unable after her long day and the activities she’d just finished. So Jamie tucked her in under the excessive amount of blankets she kept on the bed in winter, and she drifted off to the sound of him blowing out candles, only fully surrendering to sleep when he was once again at her side, tucking her into him like she belonged there, like an extra limb, an extension of himself.

My Valentine.

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plounce · 3 years

Photo

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

#cats the musical #mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #demeter cats #bombalurina #tuggoffelees #demelurina #chirps #bird in the hand

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mystery-salad · 3 years

Text

OC Interview: Matthias

Tagged by @just-eyris-things 💖 and I'm late to the party but here we are!

INTRODUCTION

1. Can you introduce yourself?

He offers a charming smile, "Matthias , Commander of the Pact."

2. What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

"I'm a bisexual man, and very much a free bachelor still." He gives a wink

3. Where and when were you born?

"Right here in Divinity's Reach twenty five years ago. Wonderful city to grow up in, made a lot of connections that got me to where I am today."

4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

"While the standard sword and shield are the usual for soldiers like me, I prefer dual swords. I'm not one to take a defensive stance when I can charge right in against danger. It's good to take charge on and off the field of battle."

5. Lastly, are you happy?

He lets out a soft, charming chuckle before answering. "If I wasn't happy I surely would've moved on to other job propositions by now, my parents surely would prefer I took a safer role after my time in the Seraph. But there's something fulfilling about being able to travel and help people in a way I couldn't if I'd remained here."

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

"Oh they're wonderful, despite their status they love to keep a low profile though, so I'll avoid dragging this question out too long. We get along well and I try to write or visit when the opportunity arises."

2. Have you ever ran away from home?

"Never even had the thought to, there wasn't much to regret or bemoan of my childhood." He smiles fondly as he recalls, "There were night sneaking out with friends of course, boys will be boys, but I'd always come back by morning. Hopefully to parents none the wiser I'd even left, though I was not as stealthy as I'd thought."

3. Would you consider marriage or having children?

"While I'm in such a dangerous line of work I wouldn't dream of raising a family. I'd hate to be one of those absent fathers off to war. But perhaps, when retirement inevitably comes knocking and it's time to pass the torch on, I may settle down and find The One."

4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

"Of course not! I've had nothing but the most trustworthy and kind friends here. And while I know rumors spread that I and my co-Commander, Aildyn (@ascalonianpicnic), had a rocky start to our partnership, I can assure that the two of us work wonderfully together. Just a small cultural conventions bump was all."

5. Which friend knows everything about you?

"Oh, telling any friend everything leaves little to still keep each other on your toes does it? We all have our stories and dalliances we save for more private moments." His smile softens a little, as if fondly thinking of someone. "Nevertheless there is someone who knows the most about me, I'll keep her name secret to avoid any unwanted attention it may garner for her."

ASKED BY FANS

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?

He feigns insult before offering a smile softening any potential misunderstanding on the action, "Me, illiterate? Id never hear the end of it from my family if I was, with how expensive the schooling I received was. And I highly doubt Logan would have put forth someone lacking in the ability to hold up the more tedious side of running an organization."

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

"I'm not one for predictions really, I prefer to live in the moment and enjoy what surprises may come."

3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

"Hmm, I like to pride myself on being observant, so this isn't a particularly easy one to recall. But as a child, it took me quite a few years to realize that not all 'bite sized food was actually bite sized. Had some hilarious moments at dinner parties my parents hosted, not that they'd agree with the results."

4. Do you have mental health or physical issues?

"I'm quite proud to say I'm in tip top shape, physically and mentally. The safety of the world is in very stable hands." He holds his hands out slightly for flourishing emphasis before settling back for the next question.

5. What is your current main goal?

"While we are between dragon threats at the moment, a wonderfully relaxing place to be, we do in fact have some behind the scenes research going on in a few various matters. I'm not at public liberty to talk about then yet, but rest assured when the Pact makes another move you'll be the first to know the scoop."

CHOICES

1. Drink or food?

"Drink of course, a nice drink with friends can happen anywhere at any time. And I'm quite the amicable socialite if I say so myself."

2. Cats or dogs?

"I enjoy both, though I prefer the independence of cats. They know what they want at all times, and I'm afraid I'm far too busy for the training a dog would require of me."

3. Early bird or night owl?

"I'm an early riser by nature, nothing like getting a solid mourning routine and breakfast in before starting the day!"

4. Optimist or pessimist?

"I fancy myself an optimist, this job would get oppressively depressing otherwise wouldn't it? You've got to be able to focus on the bright side as you look forward."

5. Sassy or sarcastic?

"I enjoy some sarcasm here and there, sass has little use in mature conversation aside from hindering the mood. Sarcasm meanwhile, can still let things roll forward with intent thrown in."

HAVE YOU EVER

1. Been caught sneaking out?

He laughs, "While I'd underestimate the count of how many times my parents caught me either sneaking out or back in after a fun night with friends, I'm sure they'd overestimate it. But yes, they've caught me at least once."

2. Broke a bone?

"I've broken an arm or leg here and there, sometimes you just slip up or fall the wrong way of course. Especially when your enemies would like to cause far worse harm. But thankfully we have access to wonderful healers, and I've never been down for long."

3. Received flowers?

The admirers of the Pact and the hard work we do are very kind, they certainly make their adoration and appreciation known. I've received more flowers than I'd have room for even if I filled my office with vases."

4. Ghosted someone?

"Of course not, I'd hate to leave someone hanging and wondering what happened. Anything I enter into, I intend to see through to however it ends."

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

"We all have moments of polite convention, and not every joke appeals to every sense of humor. I try to be discerning when necessary, but I've laughed at a fare number of jokes I simply didnt get."

He stands up, giving a polite bow to the interviewer. "Thank you for extending this invitation to me, it's always wonderful knowing how admirers feel and being able to share with the general public that we heroes are just like everyone else."

It's important to know that 99% of this interview is a bold faced lie

I think pretty much everyone's been tagged by now! At least those who want to do it! So I simply extend the invitation to say I tagged you, and mention me if you do this too! I'd love to see others who haven't gotten to this yet either 💜

#matthias reyes #long post #he is lying through his teeth for this entire interview✨#theres hardly even any half truths in there #the only commander i have who would readily do interviews and its all LIES

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

you were my crown

chapter 3

Ao3

~^~

There was a distinct tension permeating the carriage. Lucas looked especially uncomfortable, and Sander heaved sighs and shifted in his seat every few minutes, as if he couldn’t stand staying still. Jens knew he couldn’t, that if anything he’d rather be up front, but mostly would have preferred their usual method on horseback. But when Jens had asked Lucas if he could ride, he’d stared back as if Jens was insane, and Ellis was not quite ready for Lucas to be left alone with her son without ‘protection’, so here they all were.

Jens was feeling a bit uncomfortable, himself.

It was nothing to do with the carriage and the rather useless cushion under him, either, but a combination of Sander’s fidgeting next to him, Lucas’s avoidant gaze across from them, and his own inability to stop staring.

Lucas had stared at the carriage with a somewhat dubious expression, and then the lush cushion on his seat with utter disbelief. He’d nudged it aside to sit on the wood, and Jens had just tried not to be disappointed that Lucas hadn’t sat next to him. Sander had slanted another one of those looks between the two of them and sat himself next to Jens with a huff. Lucas had caught Jens’s eyes then, just for a second, before directing his eyes at his lap and keeping them there for the entire journey.

At least, until Sander could no longer take the silence.

“I’m going to teach you how to ride a horse,” he told Lucas. “First duty.”

“That doesn’t at all fall under either of your duties,” Jens pointed out, earning himself a sharp look.

Lucas didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t look upset either. “Why?”

“Because I think you’ll like it, and you’re going to get tired of walking to the castle every morning and night very quickly.”

This was enough to make Lucas’s expression crumble in distress for a second before any emotion was neatly tucked away again. He was, however, slightly more grim-faced as he offered Sander a single nod. Then he hesitated and flicked a glance at Jens. “But, what does that matter? I won’t be allowed to take a horse from the stables.”

“You will,” Jens flicked his hand.

Lucas stared at him, and Jens returned his gaze as steadily as he could. It was quite the promise to make, he knew, and he wasn’t actually sure he could pull it off, but for Lucas, he’d try. Lucas was still closed off, but he seemed less tense since finding out he could go home, even during the meeting with Ellis. Jens had done this for him, and Lucas knew it. He seemed to be appreciating it more than Jens saving his life in the first place, which was odd, but well, Jens wouldn’t question it. He might not be the best people-person, but he knew when he’d tried his luck far enough. He knew to accept Lucas’s glances of enquiry and nods of acceptance and rare smiles for now.

He would have time to work out the horse thing, while Sander actually taught Lucas, and until then, “I’ll send the carriage out for you for now.”

Now Lucas allowed a blink. “I can just walk. It’s what I’m used to.”

“It’s a good distance. I don’t need you exhausted for the day before your duties even start. They might sound simple but I’ve heard plenty of complaints before,” Jens warned him. “Daily.”

His mother had done a rather good job of outlining what was expected of Lucas regarding his new position. He would bring Jens his meals; he’d take care of washing and polishing both clothes and weapons; he’d do whatever needed to be done in Jens’s room, including lighting the fire and changing the bedsheets and organising baths; he’d be present at any events inside the castle and accompany Jens to any outside in order to serve him, and he’d take over the task of preparing Jens for them and finally relieve the poor maids. Along with all of this, he’d do whatever Jens, or the Queen, or even Sander, in this special instance, told him to do. It was what was expected of most servants—more than was expected of some but less than was expected of many. Lucas had accepted it with the same grim expression and one of his quiet nods.

Ellis, then, had politely pointed out the extent of special treatment he was getting. For anyone. Never mind a ‘traitor’. Not everyone, she’d said, had the honour of the Prince being their personal escort. Then Lucas had managed a tight smile but a rather impressive bow and a mumble of gratitude.

It was true. Jens rarely ventured outside the castle grounds unless it was to hunt or let some Lord or another play host. He’d ventured to bordering kingdoms only a few times to meet allies with his mother, either to make deals or attend their rather lavish parties. He tried to imagine Lucas hovering at his shoulder during such an event and bit down a smile. They hadn’t gotten a chance to visit Milan yet, after all, but Jens still had the thought in mind. Lucas would need official robes eventually—Jens would make him see it had nothing to do with pity, that it was a necessary custom. If he was amused and intrigued by the mere thought, well, that was a mere bonus Lucas didn’t need to know about.

“Do you think someone might faint when they see you?” Sander asked, looking at Jens curiously. His voice was innocent, but his lips were tilted in a faint smirk. “I’m always curious to know if there actually are people out there who’d end up helplessly falling at your feet.”

Jens scowled at him, but Sander had already turned to Lucas.

“What do you think? Anyone you know around here going to die at the sight of him?”

Lucas sweeped his gaze over Jens consideringly. Jens expected a biting remark, but he had to admit the slight smirk on his face was a bit of a surprise. “Unlikely they’ll be disappointed.” Jens’s heart thumped in surprise, and then Lucas continued. “They already expect very little.”

Sander immediately burst out laughing as Jens turned his scowl on Lucas. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be mad or upset when Lucas’s lips twitched up further as he gazed back before eyeing Sander in amusement. Sander patted Jens’s shoulder consolingly and only laughed harder when Jens batted him away.

“I should have known better than to let you in on this.” He glared at Sander, then frowned at Lucas as he slouched down in his seat, being jostled slightly on the way as the carriage trundled over a bump. “You can’t team up on me, I’m the Prince.”

“I think that’s probably why we have to team up on you,” Lucas mused, and Jens was so pleased to hear him respond he didn’t immediately have one of his own.

Sander pointed at him. “I knew I had a good feeling about you. You understand how it all works.”

Lucas didn’t seem as sure, but he just shrugged. “Fast learner.”

“So I was right to pick you,” Jens said. “You’ll be the most coveted servant in no time.”

Lucas rolled his eyes at that, but his slight smile hadn’t disappeared, so Jens knew he hadn’t made a mistake and Lucas heard the teasing. He even seemed prepared to respond, looking at Jens with the same, faintest glimmer of amusement and challenge, and Jens felt his heart thrum. But Lucas just flicked his eyes around Jens’s face before looking away, staring out the small window this time as they returned to silence.

They’d made it out of the Court and the surrounding village, where no one had blinked at the carriage after seeing so many trundle in that morning. Lucas had still seemed more tense then, when the raucous sounds of life had surrounded them and face after face could be glimpsed outside. Jens wasn’t a fan of it, either; he kept waiting for someone to catch sight of him. The journey felt much more peaceful now that they’d made it onto more barren roads. The dirt extended from the path into the fields and flirted with the edge of the forest on the left, making everything a medley of grass green and dusty brown. There was a spark of yellow or red here or there, wilting on branches or melting into the undergrowth where autumn was beginning to strip everything away.

But the sun was still out, and it was playing all those yellows and reds across Lucas’s face and setting his hair alight. Jens watched him while Lucas watched the scenery and he wondered, again, what exactly he had gotten himself into.

He diverted his attention out the window just in time to see the forest shift away, reeling into the distance as it backed off to make space for a stretch of fields. The open space was dotted with wooden buildings, small shelters and cabins that were soon found in closer clusters as they entered a new village. Sander leaned forward to look out as Lucas leaned back, straightening up with his hands curling into fists atop his thighs. Jens stared at him until Lucas felt his gaze and met his eye, and then he offered a reassuring smile.

Lucas allowed it for only a moment before looking away again and clearing his throat. “We should get out soon and walk the rest of the way. The road narrows the further we go. Not really meant for anything more than a horse wide, at most.”

Sander raised his brows, as if shocked that someone would give anything like an ‘order’ to someone like Jens. Sander turned to look at him and Jens shrugged back—he was just amused.

“Here?” he asked Lucas.

Lucas shrugged, taking a closer look out the window before nodding. “You could get another ten yards or so, probably.”

Jens nodded at Sander, who leaned forwards towards the front of the carriage. Lucas started and slid out of his way as Sander almost headbutted him, then the knight managed to get the hatch at the front open and whistled to the coachman. The carriage slowed in an instant, rolling to a stop just as Sander fell back in his seat, knocking his shoulder off Jens’s.

“Sorry, damn,” Sander muttered as Jens shoved him off. Jens was more annoyed that it almost made him miss Lucas’s tiny huff of amusement than about the actual jostling.

Only once they’d settled and all surrounding noise had stopped did Jens open the door and hop out, ignoring Sander’s muttering about ‘improper princes’. The dirt road was firm under his feet, but he’d already collected a layer on his shoes from the landing, which made him wince. Lucas would likely be the one left to clean it, which seemed to make sense and feel entirely unfair at the same time.

He ignored it for now and looked back into the carriage, where Sander gestured for Lucas to go first. Jens held a hand out almost automatically, then felt a little stupid, then shocked out of his dirty shoes when Lucas took it. He curved his fingers carefully over Jens’s palm, only letting his weight bear down lightly as he stepped from the carriage. Only for a moment, and then the touch was gone. Jens would have thought it didn’t even really happen if his hand wasn’t tingling, but it was, and Lucas wasn’t looking at him, and Sander was muttering again.

The knight jumped down and slammed the door shut behind him, giving Jens a withering look as he sniffed. “Thanks for the hand, that was very kind of you.”

Jens blinked, then broke out of it and slapped Sander on the back. “You’re welcome.” He caught Lucas wiping a hand over his mouth, as if he was brushing away a smile, and didn’t bother biting back one of his own.

Sander heaved a sigh and gestured at Lucas. “Well, lead the way.”

Jens lingered to thank the coachman and tell him they hopefully wouldn’t be long, then paused to pet the horses and feed them a couple of sugar cubes before catching up to where Sander and Lucas were waiting. He could see the landscape better now, and cast his eyes around as he fell into step alongside Lucas and Sander followed behind. The road did indeed narrow quickly, turning into more of a path as the grass inched inwards and more houses took up the extra space as they made it into the village. They were quaint and quiet, some with smoke coming from the chimneys and others with their doors open and noise coming from inside.

The center of it all was swallowing them quickly, and Jens straightened as he felt Sander stick closer to his back. Here, there were houses and farms and stalls, people milling around between all the available set-ups and conversing and bartering with their neighbours. It didn’t take long for Jens to feel the weight of a couple of stares, and his shoulders crept up. Lucas glanced at him, but kept tall and straight-backed as he walked, evidently at ease—at home. It took a little longer for Jens to realise the stares were for him, not the prince by his side or the knight following. Of course, he thought, they likely knew where Lucas had been. The whole village probably wondered when and if he would return, and now here he was, walking in with a royal escort.

It really should have been garnering them more attention. But even of the starers, no one said a word. They only had to walk another few yards to realise that it was because focus was directed elsewhere, to a commotion by one of the smaller stalls.

Jens didn’t even think about following Lucas as he furrowed his brow and pushed through the growing crowd, but he heard Sander’s aggrieved sigh and felt the knight’s hand at his back, curled in the fabric of his jacket. The vibrant velvet stood out, the red drawing eyes like a beacon, and the crowd was parting and staring now, raising a new murmur as they made it near the front and caught sight of the scene. Jens was, for once, extra thankful for his height as he gazed over the remaining heads.

He saw what he suspected was the seller’s back first, a tall and fairly burly man with buzzed hair and broad shoulders. He had a tight grip on the arm of another man—or possibly boy—who was much slighter with darker skin and a full, curly head of hair, though he also had a thin mustache and scruff on his chin. Lucas cursed softly under his breath, but Jens was watching as the smaller of the two laughed, the sound seeming nervous as he did his best to hold his hands up and keep the other man at bay. He said something Jens couldn’t hear, and then the man was gripping his throat in one large hand instead and Jens slithered through the remaining gap in the crowd.

“What seems to be the problem here?” he demanded, using his best authoritative tone as he stepped up to the two men. The younger boy looked at him, wide-eyed, but he went ignored by the other. It only worked to piss him off further, so he wrenched the man’s grip away and twisted his arm until he finally acknowledged Jens’s presence with a pained shout.

The crowd had gone utterly silent, now, and it made the boy’s dry gasp more audible as he stumbled back after being released from the choking grip. Jens didn’t look at him yet, focused on the more aggressive threat. The man stared down at him, glaring in pain and trying to wriggle his wrist free before, very slowly, his face went white with recognition, and he froze.

Jens smiled at him, and knew it likely wasn’t his kindest. “That’s better. Now, I believe I asked a question. Do we have a problem here?”

The man gaped a few times, then stuttered something unintelligible before steeling himself and flapping his free arm at the boy. “This kid was trying to steal from my stall,” he growled. Jens noticed he had a slight beard, as well, though it was much lighter and the lines of age were also carved into the skin around his mouth and eyes.

“Trying to?” Jens pressed.

“Lifted one of my fresh apples and stuffed it in his pocket,” the man grunted. “Went to run if I hadn’t been quick enough.”

Jens flicked his eyes around to the boy for just a moment. He was watching on in disbelief, but didn’t seem to have any stolen goods on his person. Jens looked elsewhere and lingered on what must have been the man’s stall, where an array of fruit was laid out but a lone apple sat precariously on the corner. He nodded towards it. “That apple?”

The man nodded hesitantly.

“So he was already unsuccessful in his attempts,” Jens said, raising a brow. “What reason did you have to react with violence?”

The man sputtered, and eventually his face reddened. “The boy’s a thief with a bad mouth! Somebody needs to teach him a lesson.”

Jens considered him, unimpressed. He turned to the boy. “Was that all true? About the stealing?”

“You’re the Prince,” the boy blurted, as if the recognition had only settled in. It seemed like that was probably the case, considering the shock in his expression. When Jens’s brow simply rose further, he settled and answered quietly. “I live with four siblings, my parents, and my grandmother. We were running low.”

Jens’s heart twisted. He pursed his lips and turned back to the man, who was beginning to grimace at the pressure on his wrist. “Sounds like he’s hungry, not a casual bandit. He’s no threat to you. You’ll lose a few extra customers if you always choose to raise your hand like that,” Jens warned.

When the man grunted, but eventually nodded in acceptance, Jens let him go. He moved back to his stall in an instant, wincing as he rubbed over his red skin. Jens turned to the boy instead just as Lucas made it through the crowd, looking as if he was shaking Sander’s grip off of him.

“Christ, Kes,” Lucas muttered when he was close enough. “I haven’t been gone that long, I expected you to be able to stay out of trouble.”

The boy—Kes—had lit up as soon as he laid eyes on him, and he lurched past Jens to clasp Lucas in a tight hug.

Jens blinked as Lucas hugged him back, still seeming to be scolding Kes under his breath. He looked to Sander, who was still standing a couple of feet away, but he looked just as bewildered. He made a face at Jens and shrugged, as if it was strange but not that strange. Which, it probably wasn’t. This was Lucas’s home, he reminded himself. Of course he would have friends here.

“You’ve been gone long enough,” Kes huffed, pulling away from Lucas; though neither of them fully relinquished their grip on the other. Kes looked between Jens and Sander. “But I am planning on killing you myself if you’re just back for a final goodbye. What’s with all this?” He gestured to Jens somewhat dramatically, and Lucas followed the gesture so their eyes met again. Jens tried not to let it make him feel small.

Lucas’s expression was complicated, or Jens just hadn’t at all figured out how to read him yet. They had only known each other a few hours. “‘All this’ has some sort of saviour complex, apparently,” Lucas said.

Sander snorted as Jens frowned, feeling irritation begin to bubble. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he snapped. “Or would you like me to let your friend get pummeled next time?”

“You didn’t know he was my friend,” Lucas dismissed.

“So are you upset now that I wasn’t doing it on your behalf? You’d rather I only defend your honour? Really, I’m beginning to get mixed signals.”

Sander hid his smile behind his hand as Lucas glared and Kes whipped his gaze between them in bewildered intrigue.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Lucas said.

Jens grit his teeth in a likely unpleasant grin. “What exactly is it you want to say then, Lucas? Please, enlighten me.”

“Are we finally giving orders now, Your Highness?”

Oh, Jens shouldn’t have bothered. At this rate, he was going to strangle the boy himself. He had thought they were getting along in the carriage. What was he doing wrong? Why did Lucas insist on being such a brat?

Sander was suddenly at his side again, pressing a hand between his shoulder blades. “Okay, as entertaining as this is—really, you’re both better than a court jester—we should be moving along. And maybe just lower your voices, if you want to continue.”

Jens scowled at him and was only met with raised brows and a pointed nod. He glanced past Sander and caught sight of the crowd, which hadn’t dispersed at all. If anything, it had only grown—the attraction amplified by the Prince inserting himself in the brawl, most likely.

Sander would say he has no self-awareness, but he understood fairly well pretty quickly.

Lucas winced as Kes gave a low whistle. Lucas reached out and Jens tensed, waiting for contact, but it never came. He was simply being herded in the right direction with Kes now leading the way in front of him and Lucas at his back, with Sander bringing up the rear. The knight was smart enough to actually do his job and keep Lucas in his sights, which was probably unnecessary for the expected reasons; but Jens appreciated knowing there was someone watching Lucas’s back, at the moment.

“You could just leave,” Lucas said, and it wasn’t as harsh as Jens expected. “I’m here now. I’m not going to run, I wanted to come home. And now you know Kes and could probably use him as blackmail, or something.”

Kes looked around Jens to gawk at him. “Are you trying to give them ideas?”

“No ideas necessary if he doesn’t run off,” Sander said, shrugging.

“He’s not offering you as a sacrifice, he’s using you to earn my trust. He won’t risk you by getting himself in trouble, knowing we could come after you now,” Jens said bluntly. “Smart, really.”

Lucas huffed. Still no ‘thank you’ on the horizon, then.

Kes was leading them away from the center of the village, winding outwards through a dirt path until the houses became more sparse again. They also seemed smaller here, stuck into the available spaces between fields. Most seemed to be constructed from timber and wattle, and it was so unlike the sturdy stone of the castle walls that Jens felt cold and wobbly looking at them. He had slept in worse places (the forest floor, for example), but he had never lived outside the castle for more than a week at most. His home was a fortress, built with enough care to offer protection and warmth even in the coldest winters. The recognition hit suddenly of just how much of a privilege this was as he took in the fragile shelters around him. He’d only ever seen the outer villages in passing; he hadn’t taken much in or thought to dwell on it. But the realisation that all these people, people like Kes and Lucas, lived out here came as an odd sort of surprise.

Even Sander had once lived somewhere just like this, though Jens had no idea where and Sander never spoke about it. He was giving no reaction now, not that the others would notice, but to Jens he appeared more withdrawn than usual. Since they had made it away from the bustle of the town, he was silent and solemn, which were both unusual traits for him.

Jens supposed it could have had something to do with the people still surrounding them, more and more coming out of their homes as their group passed through and finally made it to a small hut, which Lucas entered without knocking.

The house was small and open—Jens could see most of the space from his half-glimpse inside the door. There seemed to be minimal furniture, and yet what was there was still cluttered, forced together in places it probably shouldn’t be. It was dim, and as odd as it was, Jens almost thought he could feel a breeze coming out of it.

Lucas looked at it with such awe that Jens thought he should probably try to see it differently. All tension melted from his shoulders as he stepped through the threshold and called, “Mama?”

Kes slithered in next to him and set a hand on his shoulder as Jens and Sander hovered outside. “She could be sleeping,” Kes told him softly. “We’ve been checking in on her while you were gone. Isa’s actually been staying.”

Jens didn’t know who Isa was, but he assumed she was the girl who appeared from behind one of the curtains and who was definitely not capable of being Lucas’s mother. Her face lit up when she saw him, however, and Lucas smiled when she barreled into him and wrapped him in a hug. Jens absorbed the expression and tucked it away and wondered just who this girl was.

“I knew you’d be back in no time! I told them it all had to be bullsh—“

“Ies,” Kes cut her off with a hiss, jerking his head towards the open door.

Isa’s eyes landed on them and went comically wide. She gaped, eyes lingering on Jens’s face and Sander’s chainmail, before she dropped into a surprising, slightly awkward curtsy. She leaned in close to Lucas and whispered (rather pointlessly, because they were all close enough to hear everything), “You came back with a knight-in-shining-armour and Prince Charming?”

Lucas only flicked his gaze towards them for a moment. “I would hardly say ‘charming’ is the right word.”

Much like Kes had, Isa gaped at him for the audacity. Jens was begrudgingly beginning to like them.

“You are just getting our roles mixed up, you see,” Sander told her with a winning smile. “Lucas has already learned I’m the charming one. And Jens is more likely his knight-in-shining-armour.”

Jens watched Lucas roll his eyes and rolled his own in response. He turned his own attention to Isa and offered her a smile too, as well as his hand. “It’s nice to see someone aware of the property courtesies, or at least with some basic manners.” He tilted his head pointedly towards Lucas, and the girl laughed, slipping her hand into his. Jens left a kiss to the back of her fingers; he too was aware of his courtesies.

It made Isa flush a pretty pink, and it also made Lucas scoff, which was the main goal. Jens raised his eyebrows at him in a dare to say something about it, but their staring match only lasted a few seconds before they were interrupted by more soft footsteps.

“Luc,” a gentle voice said. Lucas was instantly rushing across the small house to capture an even smaller lady in a hug. She was actually a little taller than Isa, but thinner, and she had Lucas’s light brown hair but not his blue eyes. Still, it wasn’t hard to tell that this was obviously his mother as she clutched him back tightly and he let out a shuddering breath.

Jens’s heart twisted. This was Lucas’s home, that much was clear. It seemed impossible that it had almost been taken away from him that same day. Lucas clearly belonged here with each of these people, regardless of what their connections were, and there would have been heartbreak left behind if he was gone. Jens was even beginning to understand why Lucas detested his ‘help’ so much. He lived his whole life here, and now it would be nothing more than a place to sleep. Even that would be cut short.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Lucas mumble. “I’m so sorry.”

The woman pulled back to cup his face gently in her hands, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks. “Oh, you didn’t do anything wrong, darling. I know you didn’t. I’m so happy they saw that too and you’re safe.”

It was enough to make Lucas stiffen again. “Well, Mama,” he trailed off, because it didn’t matter—she had already caught sight of them in the doorway.

“My, I am so sorry,” she stammered, gripping tighter to her son for a moment before letting go and curtsying as well. Jens really didn’t know where Lucas had gotten his manners, then. She glanced between them and Lucas. “Your Highness. To what do I owe this honour?”

Jens opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again.

Sander rested a hand on his shoulder and stepped up next to him. “We’ve just come to escort Lucas home. There are some...conditions, to his return, that we’ll gladly discuss with you unless Lucas wishes to do so on his own.”

Jens nodded his own agreement and looked to Lucas, who wrapped an arm around his mother but didn’t respond. It was apparently enough permission for the woman to hastily beckon them inside and offer them a drink.

They all crammed into the small seating space. Jens sat with Sander stood just behind him, across from Lucas and his mother. He hadn’t actually thought much about Kes and Isa, and expected them to leave before they discussed Lucas’s situation. But Isa had taken the one spare stool and Kes had leaned against the wall behind her, both of them watching on expectantly. Mostly watching him, with a slightly familiar wide-eyed wonder. It made Jens more nervous than it probably should have. The space was also, as he thought, run through with a terrible chill, and he felt strange shivering in his thick jacket when Lucas looked perfectly collected in his thin, threadbare tunic.

Lucas’s mother had introduced herself as Tess, and poured both visitors a glass of water with trembling hands. It was likely nerves, but she seemed steady and curious as she looked from Jens to Sander and back. “You mentioned conditions? But Lucas isn’t guilty of anything?”

Jens once again looked to the boy in question, who, shockingly, stared back rather defiantly. His look seemed to say, ‘go ahead, you can tell my mother that your mother wants to kill me’.

It was also possible that he was reading too much into things.

“We don’t believe that he is, no,” Jens said softly, looking back to the woman placatingly. “But we also have no proof of his innocence. I’m sure you understand the Queen has to react with caution to any possible threat of treason.”

“But I was here. I am always here,” Tess said firmly. “Surely, I can attest to his innocence?”

“No one can even know when the sword was taken,” Sander said. “Unless you are here every moment of every day with Lucas, it would still not be counted as proof. And I’m afraid as his mother, you’re already likely to be considered as an unreliable witness.”

“So what does that mean? There is no way of proving his innocence? Can’t you find out when the sword was taken? Surely knights aren’t supposed to leave their weapons lying around and would notice before long,” Kes said, clearly sharing his friend’s fiery spark. Jens noted that Lucas seemed a lot more wary in the face of it, flicking his eyes to Kes nervously. His sense did, apparently, extend from his mother to these friends.

Sander just snorted. “No, they’re not. And it will be looked into further, because if Lucas had nothing to do with it we need to know who did.”

“But until then, we can’t absolve Lucas of guilt entirely,” Jens explained. “So, rather than a...harsher punishment, it was agreed upon that Lucas would work for me in the castle.”

“Work for you?” Tess questioned, confused, her eyes flicking briefly to Sander.

Isa snorted, then immediately looked embarrassed about it. “What sort of work is Lucas qualified for? He can’t cook to save his life, and could you imagine him trying to use a sword?”

Lucas frowned at her.

Tess set her hand on Isa’s and gave a squeeze, appearing amused. “I doubt that would even be allowed, sweetie.”

“No,” Jens agreed. “He’ll be my personal servant.”

The room—the house, this space was the whole house—went utterly silent. They all stared at him, blankly or bewildered, and then at Lucas, disbelieving.

Isa was the first to find her voice. “What—what does that actually mean? I mean, what will he be doing?”

“I’m not actually sure of all the details myself,” Jens said slowly. “I’ve never had a manservant, which is partially why I suggested it, but it also means it shouldn’t really involve anything too difficult. Lucas will just be expected to take care of things like meals and clothes, looking after my chambers and my things, accompanying me.”

They absorbed this for a moment. “So he’s basically working as your mother,” Kes said.

“My mother’s the Queen,” Jens said, confused, before realising it was meant to be some kind of joke.

“More like a slave,” Lucas suggested, still bitter. It earned a sharp look and quiet reprimand from his mother, which actually made him shut his mouth and shrink in his seat. Jens marveled at all the power in this tiny woman.

Sander tsked. “Jens would never treat someone that way, and he’s already managed to overrule his mother for you. You’re lucky.”

Lucas didn’t huff or scoff this time, but he looked like he wanted to. It was likely the presence of his mother keeping him at bay, then, not an agreement with Sander’s words.

“It’s just a job,” Jens said, leaning across the table towards Lucas. He didn’t have to go far. “I know that it is meant to be a punishment, but we do not plan to treat it that way. You’re no different to anyone else working in the castle, except you actually have a higher standing than many of them. You will be treated with just as much respect and paid just as kindly as anyone else.”

That finally broke Lucas’s facade enough for him to furrow his brows. “Paid?”

“Maybe out of my own pocket,” Jens admitted, “but yes.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

Jens furrowed his brows back, frowning. “You will not be able to work otherwise to earn anything. You don’t wish to live in the castle. How do you expect to live otherwise?”

“You were invited to live in the castle?” Isa demanded, eyes bright.

Lucas ignored her for the moment and continued to address Jens. “I was under the impression that my life was my payment. Or is it actually not still under threat?”

“Your life?” Tess repeated, shocked. “Have they threatened to kill you?”

Jens winced, but Lucas was already laying a hand on her shoulder placatingly. Still, he didn’t speak up to deny her worries, and her startled, terrified gaze lay heavily on Jens, and he found himself leaning in her direction instead. “Lucas is perfectly safe, I assure you.”

“But he wasn’t, was he?” Kes asked. His gaze was no longer filled with the initial bewilderment and faint awe; it was hard and heavy and filled with questions, as if he was suddenly intent on picking Jens apart. It made Jens oddly nervous, although he was oddly glad Lucas seemed to have these people willing to protect him, looking out for him.

Lucas, thankfully, answered on his own this time. “I was initially sentenced to death.”

Tess sank back in her chair as she stared at him, raising a hand to grip tightly onto his. She was as white as a sheet. Lucas quickly shifted around to look at her more directly, holding onto both her shoulders now and gently stroking his thumbs back and forth. It was the most kindness Jens had witnessed from him so far.

“I’m fine,” he said, at once soft and firm. He flicked a glance at Jens. “His Royal Highness—“ he seemed pained using the full title; Jens was utterly amused “—laughed at the idea, and it seemed that was enough to save me.”

Tess blinked, looking from her son to Jens and back. “I beg your pardon?”

“You laughed?” Isa said, baffled, then immediately looked embarrassed again. Kes sighed as he put a hand on her shoulder.

“To be fair,” Jens defended himself, “it was a rather ridiculous idea.”

“To be fair,” Sander added, “it also worked.”

Jens waved a hand at him in agreement and thanks.

“He convinced Her Majesty that she had no actual reason for such an extreme punishment,” Lucas said quietly, looking at Jens now. “He earned me a second chance and as much freedom as he could.”

“Hang on,” Jens blinked at him. “What is this sudden gratitude?”

A muscle in Lucas’s jaw twitched. “I recognise what you did for me. That does not mean,” he enunciated clearly, “that I have to like you. Regardless of how kind a keeper you view yourself as, you made me your prisoner.”

“He saved your life,” Tess said, but there was no intonation of any argument or rebuke. There was only relief and an overwhelming gratitude of her own; her eyes were shining as she looked at Jens. Jens was grateful when Kes spoke and he had a reason to look away.

“Why would he do that?” The question seemed to be in response to Lucas or Tess, but he was only looking at Jens as he asked it, now even more calculating than before. “You don’t even know Lucas.”

Jens shook his head. “Why should that matter? Even if he is guilty, he doesn’t deserve to die. Even if he had hurt someone, it’s not always so black and white. I didn’t know you, either, when we arrived today, but that didn’t mean you deserved to be harmed.”

Kes leaned back against the wall, dragging his gaze over him appraisingly.

“Thank you,” Tess whispered, dragging Jens’s attention back. He was surprised when she reached over and clasped his hand, squeezing tightly, and Lucas flinched as if making an aborted move to pull her away. “Thank you, so much.”

Jens’s heart warmed, and his throat felt tight. Like he had with Isa, he brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed the back of her fingers, then squeezed them in return. “I mean it. It’s not to earn thanks. I believe Lucas deserves his safety and I will do what I can to maintain it. I would’ve done the same for anyone.” He cut his eyes to Lucas. “Whether they would be grateful or not is not the point.”

“He also negotiated with the Queen to make sure Lucas could stay here. We were only to escort him back to make sure he really did come home, but he’s free to stay here now and will only be expected to come to the castle every morning to do his duties,” Sander explained.

“Will you have to walk every morning?” Isa asked, disheartened as she looked to her...friend? Something more?

Lucas glanced at Jens.

“Only to the end of the village, where the road widens,” Jens said. “A carriage will wait for him there and bring him back in the evenings.”

When they all stared at him once more, he shrugged. “It will make sure he turns up?”

“It sounds like you’re getting a reward, Luc, not a punishment,” Kes pointed out with a snort. He walked over to clip the back of Lucas’s head. “Maybe stop acting like an ass, yeah?”

Sander let out an aborted laugh, and Jens belatedly realised this was assurance that he’d earned Kes’s approval. It seemed like an important—possibly vital—first step. Even though Lucas scowled and batted him away, he didn’t complain, and his following glance at Jens didn’t seem filled with quite as much disdain. Jens chanced softening his own gaze, and Lucas clenched his jaw and looked away.

“Boys,” Tess admonished half-heartedly. “We still have company.”

Jens drew his gaze away from Lucas and offered her a smile. “We should be getting going, though.”

“I’m sure he has things to do, Mama,” Lucas said, in a drawl that let Jens know he was about to be mildly insulted. “Orders to give, hair to fix.”

Jens straightened and raised a hand to his head, running fingers through the strands curling over his face. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Lucas raised a brow at him, as if he’d just proven an excellent point.

Sander clapped a hand on his shoulder. “He’s teasing you, idiot. About how you probably only care about your hair? Even though it does fall flat because this—“ he ruffled Jens’s already messy hair “—is atrocious, you still managed to prove his point. Who lets you outside?”

“You?” Jens said hesitantly, then frowned. “Wait.”

“Did you just...forget you’re the Prince?” Kes asked.

Jens opened his mouth to protest and jumped as the door banged open instead. He twisted around to see and had to peek around Sander, who instantly moved in front of him at the intrusion.

In the doorway was yet another boy with wildly curly hair and a light scruff. He had a full water bucket hoisted in his arms and his foot was still slightly raised from where he’d kicked the door open. He was staring at the large group of people cluttered in the small space, taking in Sander’s hand on the hilt of his sword and then Jens peeking out from behind him, before his eyes found Lucas.

“Luc!”

His hands loosened dangerously on the bucket and he fumbled for a moment as water sloshed around the rim. Kes appeared in front of him in an instant and hastily took over, yelping out a “careful, Jayden” as water splashed over his shirt. He managed to get the bucket from Jayden and carefully set it down out of the way, and Jayden was already moving forward with a grin.

He halted after a single step, however, eyes landing on the looming knight in his path. He flicked his gaze down to where Sander’s hand still rested and back up. Jens curled his fingers in Sander’s sleeve and gave a quick tug, but Sander remained and narrowed his eyes at Jayden.

Jayden blinked. Then narrowed his eyes back.

Sander nodded in approval at the handling of the stare-down and immediately backed off, leaning casually against the wall beside Jens again.

Jens huffed, used to the antics by now. Jayden only looked bewildered for a second before moving on in favour of bounding around to Lucas and wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. “Shit, I was sure they were gonna kill you or something.”

The others shared a look. Lucas simply patted Jayden’s back.

Sander tapped Jens’s shoulder, and Jens convinced himself to get to his feet. Lucas nudged Jayden off of him and looked up at them. “Do you need me to walk back with you?”

Jens tilted his head, surprised that there was no teasing or sarcasm in the comment, and marveled at the manners Lucas seemed to learn within minutes of his mother’s presence. “No, the deal was to bring you right here. We’re not going to drag it out.”

“I meant so you don’t get killed,” Lucas said dryly.

Jayden suddenly, and finally, hissed, “Lucas, isn’t that the fucking Prince? What are you doing?!”

“Language,” Tess quickly reprimanded, offering Jens a nervous, apologetic smile.

Isa patted Jayden’s arm and quietly assured him they’d fill him in later as Jens cocked a brow at Lucas.

“I can take care of myself,” he said easily.

“You mean you never go anywhere without a knight and they’re under strict orders to protect you?”

“No,” Sander huffed. “Weren’t you watching him like a hawk earlier? He can take care of himself.”

Lucas looked dubious.

Within a second, Jens was leaned across the table with a dagger tucked gently under Lucas’s chin. He heard a few gasps and one cry of protest, but Lucas only drew a sharp breath and stared back at him through slightly wide eyes. “I’m not sure how you think this works,” Jens murmured. “But Sander’s only had a sword in his hands for a couple of years. I’ve had a knife in my belt since I could walk. I’m already the one protecting you, don’t forget. I can take care of myself.”

Lucas swallowed, and Jens drew the dagger back enough that it wouldn’t pierce his skin when Lucas refused to lean away. “Okay. Point taken.”

Jens rolled his eyes and slipped the dagger away again, leaning out of Lucas’s space and moving towards the door. “Sunrise,” Jens reminded him. “Your carriage awaits.”

He was aware of Sander’s quiet laughter as he followed him out and pointedly ignored it. He’d barely gotten three yards before someone had caught up with him, and a gentle voice was calling, “Your Highness.”

He paused and turned back to Tess, feeling oddly nervous all of a sudden. He had just held a dagger to her son’s throat right in front of her and left without another word, after all, and following all his judgment of Lucas’s manners, he probably should have recognised that might be rather rude. Still, he just straightened his shoulders and asked, “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologise for Lucas,” she said quietly, looking down now as she wrung her hands. “I know that it is not proper, but it’s partly my fault. He’s very protective.”

Jens let his posture soften and stepped closer, bringing his hand up to touch her arm lightly. “I could see that right away. He wanted nothing more than to come back to you. I understand his anger at how much this disrupts his life here.”

“I don’t know what we have done to deserve such kindness from you.” Her voice wobbled, but she looked up at him now. “He is scared and will not recognise it, but I do, and I cannot thank you enough. I know it is wrong of me to ask you for more…”

“He’ll be safe,” Jens assured her. “He will adjust, and I’ll keep him safe. I promise.”

She reached for his hand and held it tightly between her own, squeezing once. “Thank you,” she repeated, breathless with her relief.

Jens kissed her knuckles again, overwhelmed with sympathy. He wanted to ask where her partner was, Lucas’s father, because he thought it would help him understand but knew he would not like the answer. Instead he gave her hand a final squeeze, allowed her to see the promise in his gaze, then glanced back through the open doorway.

He could still see Lucas, still at his place at the tiny table, but now his head was tilted back and his mouth was open in laughter as he looked up at Kes. The noise of them all filtered out, their easy familiarity and joy, and Jens turned away quickly and nodded to Sander.

Sander led them back to the carriage in silence, and his confident stride stopped anyone from speaking up or approaching. Only when they’d made it back out of the village and onto the small path did he fall in step with Jens and speak up. “You’re going to have your hands full with him, y’know.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Jens huffed.

“He didn’t even flinch.”

“He looked happy about it.”

Sander barked a laugh, clapping his hands together as they reached the carriage. He patted the horse’s flank on the way past and winked at the coachman, who gave him a two-fingered salute in response. “He’s a treat. I can’t wait.”

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

Broken Things 17/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

November approaches quickly. The surveyor is due to arrive in only a handful of weeks. The horses are coming along just fine with their training. Mulder’s relationship with Katherine feels like it’s moving forward at a pleasant pace. Just before the last weekend of the month, he asks her if he might accompany her into town that Friday.

“Of course,” she says. “But, you don’t need to ask.”

“You might have plans with your friends and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“I would like to call on Susannah and Monica and Doctor Black, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome to join me.”

“Then, I will accept your invitation.”

“My invitation? You invited yourself.”

“Did I?”

Probably the only thing he finds more delightful than when she raises her eyebrow at him is when she rolls her eyes at him.

He asks if she’d like to attempt to drive the wagon into town, but she declines. She feels that she’s only just mastered the carriage and has not had any wagon lessons yet. She’s more than happy to have him drive them.

Their first stop is the mercantile. Susannah rushes out to greet them and pulls Katherine inside by looping her arm through hers.

“We’ve got the prettiest new fabric in that will suit you so well,” she says. “I’ve been hoping you’d come by and held it just for you.”

“John,” Mulder greets, as he enters the store.

“Mulder, what timing. The denim trousers you ordered arrived just this week.”

“Thank you, I’ll take them now if you’ll wrap them.”

“Already done.”

“Katherine has our supply list, but it looks like your wife has absconded with her.”

“Yes, she’s been waiting for her to come in.”

“I’ll just take a look at the catalog in the meantime, I may have a few other things to order.”

“Certainly.” John slides the thick book of merchandise across the counter to Mulder. “We saw Melvin ride through town a few weeks ago and take Doctor Black back with him to the ranch. Heard you had taken a tumble from a wagon.”

“Just a little shoulder damage. That does remind me, if you have any liniment, I’ll take a couple tins off you.”

“We’ve got Sloan’s. The oil.”

“That’s fine, two bottles. No, make it three. I’ll bring one to the Doc.”

“He said Katherine patched you right up and did about as good of job with it as he would’ve done.”

“I guess if I had to compare the two, I much prefer the bedside manner of my wife.”

Mulder chuckles as John blushes and fumbles with the bottles of liniment. He’s saved from any further conversation of his shoulder when Katherine appears with Susannah and some bolts of cotton fabric with a blue paisley pattern.

“Kate, you have our list?” Mulder asks.

“Oh, yes.” She opens the little drawstring bag at her wrist and gives John the paper.

“Now that Katherine’s taken over from Melvin, you don’t have to translate his hieroglyphics any longer.”

“Yes, lovely handwriting.” John nods and then starts to collect items from the list, all business.

“I was just needling your wife about that Sunday dinner get-together we promised,” Susannah says. “You be sure not to keep her so busy she can’t do some proper visiting.”

“She is more than free to ride out at any time to come calling, but it has been a bit hectic lately.”

“Oh, we heard about your fall. Doctor Black said Katherine did all the doctoring for him and he didn’t lift a finger.”

“It was a mild concussion and a shoulder dislocation,” Katherine explains. “Just required a re-set of the shoulder and a good deal of rest.”

“John, put in for five of these undershirts here on page 67. Kate, is there anything you might want from Montgomery Ward?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take a gander and put in for whatever you find with John. I’m going to head across the way to the lumber mill just for a few minutes.”

“Alright.”

Mulder leaves Katherine at the mercantile and goes across the road to the mill. It’s a noisy place with a lot of sawing and yelling and hammering. The smell of sawdust is everywhere. The air is thick with it and Mulder can swear he feels it clinging to him as soon as he gets within five feet of the place.

“Mr. Hartwell,” he shouts, waving his hat to get the foreman’s attention.

Mr. Hartwell leaves the saw he’s working with stuck in the lumber he’s cutting and takes his gloves off to shake hands. “Mr. Mulder, good to see you,” he says.

“I’m soon to be in need of some lumber.”

“Oh?”

“I took over Old Man Goodwin’s plot and I’ve got a surveyor coming out a little more than a week from now. He’s supposed to get me some plans for a bigger barn, new stables, and we’ll be doing a new bunkhouse and expanding the house eventually.”

“Is that right? When might you be needing your order?”

“I hope to break ground by winter. At least on the corral. I’ve been clearing trees on the property and we can recycle some of what we’ve already got. You still have a record on the build on my current plot?”

“I reckon so.”

“Let’s start with that same amount. I’m about to run down to the bank. I’ll tell Mr. Skinner you’ll be giving him an estimate and he can advance anything you need and I’ll take what I can get by let’s say, mid-December?”

“Well alright then.” Mr. Hartwell nods.

“I’ll also be in the market to hire labor, so if you have anyone in mind you can point my way, I’d be most grateful.”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you.”

The two men shake hands again and Mulder heads back to the mercantile. John Jr. is loading up the wagon with their purchases. He gives Mulder a wave.

“How are things with your sweetheart?” Mulder asks, helping to load the last of the crates from the porch.

John Jr. sighs. “She broke off with me a couple weeks ago.”

“Well, now, that’s a shame.”

“She said I was boring and then the next day she was holding hands with Luke Doggett.”

“That the Sheriff’s boy?”

“Yes, Sir. I can’t even be mad over it because Luke’s a nice guy.”

“Be patient. You’re a hard worker and you’re not boring at all, you’re stable, like your father. You’ll find a great girl one day that’ll appreciate that.”

“Naw, I think I’m done with girls for awhile. I’m gonna save up and get a horse.”

“Well, horses are good too. When you’re ready to buy, you come see me. I’ll give you a good deal.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mulder chuckles to himself as he walks away from John Jr. and goes back into the mercantile. Katherine gives him a smile that makes him want to wrap his arms around her. He puts his hand at the small of her back instead.

“Ready?” he asks.

Katherine and Susannah say their goodbyes. Mulder helps his wife up into the wagon seat and then they head to the bank. He leaves Katherine at the line to the teller’s window and waves to Skinner who motions him into the office.

“I wanted to let you know that we’re moving forward on the expansion,” Mulder tells him. “Mr. Hartwell should be coming by with an estimate for lumber. I told him to speak with you and you’d arrange to advance him anything he might need.”

“I can do that.”

“I also, uh…” Mulder turns his hat over in his hands for a few moments and then he glances out into the foyer of the bank before he shuts the door to Skinner’s office for a bit of privacy. “If you can get word to my lawyers through the branch in Fort Worth that I’d like to update my will, I would appreciate it.”

“Certainly, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure I’ll need an update of my account holdings, so whatever they need they can have time to put it together.”

“What brought this on, if I may ask?”

“Had a fall from a wagon a few weeks ago. Nothing drastic, mind you, it just got me thinking and I’d like to make sure that if...well, if anything should happen, there’s no question of what my wishes are.”

“Your wife would be protected, by law.”

“Not well enough. I want to make damn sure the ranch will stay with her, and I want to make sure Melvin will be taken care of as well.”

“I’ll get word and if anything comes back from your lawyers, I will let you know.”

“Thank you.”

“Does she even know? Who she really married? How much you’re worth?”

“No.”

“You might want to tell her sometime.”

“When the time is right.”

↭

Katherine feels more confident this time when she pays the mortgage. The teller is polite, calls her Mrs. Mulder, slides the card to her that she needs to sign with a fountain pen and she doesn’t hesitate this time to write Katherine Mulder next to the date.

She’s finished before Mulder is done speaking with Mr. Skinner, so she waits for him outside by the wagon. She’s never really gotten a good look at the town before. The row of businesses stretches long and wide. If the bank is the end point, the mercantile is the start. In between there’s a sawmill, a blacksmith, the saloon, an icehouse, a cafe, a flour mill, a bath house, a meeting house, the sheriff’s office, a barber, a boarding house, a livery, a laundry, and the house of ill repute, as Mulder referred to it.

She knows there’s a church somewhere and a school, but they must be hidden in the outskirts of the town. Doctor Black must have his practice somewhere off the main road as well. Monica had said she lives off the road that veers left from the bank and she wonders how many other homes are out there and where everyone lives. The Byers may make their home as part of their store, but presumably Mr. Skinner does not sleep in the bank. And she remembers that Susannah said he had a wife.

Mulder comes outside and stands next to her. “When I first got here about the only things that existed were the mercantile and the saloon,” he says. “Sometimes it seems like all this just sprang up overnight.”

“Susannah was telling me today that a Wells Fargo office is coming in next year.”

“Long overdue for that, if you ask me. Nearest place to send a telegram is either Abilene or Fort Worth, depending on where you’re at.”

“How many folks live here?”

“I can’t say I know for sure. If I were to wager a guess, maybe fifty or so in town. There’s a lot of ranches around these parts that do their business here, so if you consider them to be part of the town, there’s got to be at least another hundred.”

“It’s strange, but I grew up in a city of twenty thousand people and it always felt very small to me. But, standing here, on a street you can probably walk up and back in a quarter of an hour, it feels enormous.”

“Well, they say everything is bigger in Texas.”

“I have heard that.”

“Where to now, fair Kate?”

“Where does the Doctor live?”

“Up that way behind the boardinghouse.”

“I’d like to drop in on Monica first then, since the Doc is on the way back.”

Katherine takes Mulder’s hand to climb into the wagon and he drives them down the road, over a short bridge, and then past a grove of trees. A house appears as soon as they clear the trees, like an island in a sea of bluebonnets.

“Goodness,” Katherine says. “Monica said you can’t miss it.”

The rumble of the wagon must have alerted her friend. Monica comes out to the porch, wiping her hands on a dishrag. She waves and jumps down the steps to greet them as they come down the lane.

“I hope you don’t mind us dropping in,” Katherine says as she climbs down from the wagon. “We were in town so I wanted to say hello.”

“Are you kidding? I’m thrilled.” Monica hugs Katherine hard and keeps an arm around her shoulders as she waves to Mulder. “I’ve got cornbread in the oven that’ll be done soon. You’ll stay and have a cut before I bring dinner out to John, won’t you?”

“Well, that sounds too good to pass up,” Mulder answers.

“Come on in.”

The Doggett residence is similar to the ranch house. There’s a dogtrot that runs from the front to the back, but the left side of the house is all kitchen and dining area, presumably bedrooms are on the right. Monica offers them chairs at the table and then checks on the cornbread. Mulder holds a chair out for Katherine as she loosens her hat and removes her gloves, but he doesn’t sit down right away. He moves over to a breakfront along the wall and runs his hand over the smooth wood.

“This is a beauty,” he says.

“My boy built that,” Monica answers, proudly.

“The Sheriff did this?”

“No, our son Luke. I swear he was swinging a hammer before he could toddle.”

Mulder nods and continues to run his hand down the side and across the front. “How old might Luke be?”

“Fifteen. Just had a birthday on the 13th of October.”

“That’s funny, we have the same birthday.”

“Your birthday was the 13th?” Katherine asks. She’s mildly embarrassed that she had no idea her own husband’s birthday had passed.

“I didn’t even remember myself until just now.”

“What year were you born?” Monica asks.

“1861.”

Monica closes her eyes and tilts her head for a few moments. “You’re a three,” she says, with a brief nod.

“A three?”

“Yes, in numerology. Your life path number is a three. It means you like to inspire others and make them smile. But, if you feel you’ve been misinterpreted you can become sullen and withdrawn.”

“Is that right?” Mulder grins as he looks at Katherine and she raises her eyebrow. “But, I thought I was blue and red. Now I’m a number?”

“Oh, you told him about his aura?” Monica beams.

“I um…” Katherine can feel the heat rising to her cheeks as though she were caught gossipping. Mulder must sense her discomfort for he finally sits down beside her and takes her hand before hanging his hat on his bent knee.

“One day I’d like to hear all about it,” he says, squeezing Katherine’s hand. “I was just wondering though, Mrs. Doggett-”

“Oh, call me Monica, please.”

“Monica, that’s really high quality work your boy does. How would you feel about letting him come out this winter and work on an expansion out at my ranch? I’d pay him, of course.”

“I’d have to speak with my husband about it, but I’m sure Luke would be thrilled at the prospect. He’s been at us to quit school for the last few years.”

“Oh, but he can’t quit school,” Katherine says.

“Well, most of the kids around here quit by the age of twelve. They’re needed at their farms or ranches. Luke’s been the oldest in the schoolhouse for the last two years and he’s been pretty anxious to move on. John wouldn’t let him since we don’t have a farm and he’s certainly not going to allow his son to take on a job at the saloon, which is about the only place that’d hire a boy his age.”

“I’m going to be looking to hire quite a few men starting next month or so,” Mulder says. “There’s plenty of room in the bunkhouse for him and I’ll see to it he comes home for the week’s end. Your husband is welcome to ride out any time to check in.”

“I would keep my eye on him as well, if you’re at all concerned about that,” Katherine adds.

“Oh.” Monica puts her hand on Katherine’s arm and smiles. “I don’t doubt that. My, what a lovely ring!”

“Thank you.” Katherine runs her thumb along the side of her ring band with her thumb. “My husband got it for me.”

They spend the next half of an hour with Monica Doggett, sharing a slice of cornbread and chatting amicably. Mulder asks her more about this numerology thing and she happily shares with him more about his life path based on his birth date. When it’s time for them to take their leave, Mulder offers to drive Monica to the Sheriff’s office, but she says she would much rather walk. It’s just about her only time to herself and she enjoys it.

They ride back up into town and Mulder passes the bank to go down a smaller road behind the north side of the town. He points out a house up the ways with a sign hanging at the front that simply says ‘DOC’ etched in wood.

For some reason, Katherine feels nervous on the way up to the doctor’s porch. She knows she already made a good impression on the doctor, but still wonders if that was just politeness. The doctors she knew from nurse’s training were mercurial. Someone bearing a compliment one day could come bearing condescension the next, or worse.

Mulder opens the door to usher her inside. Doctor Black peeks out from behind a curtain and smiles broadly.

“Just my luck,” the doctor says. “I’ve just set a broken bone and could surely use your assistance while I mix a plaster.”

“Of course,” Katherine says. She immediately takes her gloves off and hands them to Mulder.

There’s a young boy perched at the edge of the exam table, no more than five or six, sniffling and sullen. Katherine moves to him and right away she can see that his left wrist is broken. She smiles at him and takes a gentle hold on his arm, cradling his wrist in her hands so the doctor can get to work on mixing a plaster.

“My name is Katherine,” she says to the boy. “Who might you be?”

“Joey Skinner.”

“Is Walter Skinner your father, son?” Mulder asks.

Joey nods and then wipes his nose with the back of his good hand.

“Has anyone gone to fetch Mr. Skinner?” Mulder asks Doctor Black. “I could run over to the bank right now.”

“Yes, why don’t you do that.” Doctor Black nods to Mulder and then hands Katherine a roll of gauze. “I trust you can wrap up that wrist.”

“Certainly.” She deftly holds Joey’s arm with one hand and uses her thumb to pin the edge of the gauze down and begins to wrap. “Joey, you tell me if this hurts, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, how did this happen?”

“I was playing tag with Grace and Emma and Isaac and I was ‘It’ and I was running and I tripped on a rock and I felled down and my hand hurted real bad. Grace yelled for Miss Holly and Miss Holly bringed me to the doc.”

“Well, I think you’re a very brave boy and we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

“Now,” Doctor Black says, rolling a small table over with a bowl of milky liquid and wrappings. “Joey, this might feel a little cold, but you do your best to hold still, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Excellent wrapping,” the doctor tells Katherine. “Would you like to do the plaster?”

Katherine nods and the doctor moves the table to her side so she can work. She runs the wrapping through the liquid and winds it around Joey’s small wrist and arm, moving methodically. She has experience with setting and wrapping broken bones, but never on a child. She’s cautious, but tries to be quick for Joey’s sake. Doctor Black provides her with a few short instructions as she goes.

“Beautiful work,” Doctor Black says when Katherine is wiping her hands dry. “Joey, is there any pain in your wrist now or in your arm.”

“It’s kinda itchy.”

“Yes, it might be, but you can’t scratch right now, I’m sorry. We’re going to let it dry and when it’s done it’ll be hard as a rock and keep your wrist in place so it can heal.”

Joey’s bottom lip begins to tremble. “Is it gonna be on my arm forever and ever?”

Katherine puts her arm around Joey and rubs his shoulder. “Not forever, sweetheart, just a few weeks is all. And the doctor will probably check on it a time or two to make sure it’s healing properly.”

“That’s right,” Doctor Black says.

“Joey!? Joey!?” Walter Skinner bursts through the door with Mulder behind him.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Joey.” Mr. Skinner rushes over and for a moment, Katherine is afraid he’s going to grab the boy up in a fit of panic before the cast sets.

“Everything’s alright,” Katherine says.

“What happened, son?”

“I was playing tag…”

As soon as Joey starts up with his story again, Katherine slips away from the exam table to go to Mulder. “He okay?” Mulder asks.

“It wasn’t a bad break.”

“Good.” He pulls Katherine’s gloves from his pocket and hands them to her.

Doctor Black comes up to the two of them and he and Mulder shake hands. Mulder gives him the extra bottle of liniment he bought at the mercantile and the doctor thanks him.

“Looks as though your shoulder’s healed nicely,” Doctor Black says.

“Yes, well, I happened to have a very strict nursemaid to see me through.” Mulder chuckles and Katherine demurs a little.

“If you think you could spare your wife for a few days a month, I’d be happy to have the help here.”

“Oh, I really couldn’t,” Katherine answers.

“Why couldn’t you?” Mulder asks.

“Well, there’s just so much to do. And the expansion is coming up, so…”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Mulder nods to the doctor and at Katherine. “Good skills should never go to waste.”

Katherine is all but rendered speechless. She doesn’t know if she’s shocked or grateful or why she should even be so surprised. Mulder’s the only man she’s ever known that doesn’t seem to want to control her in some way, who seems to want her to have independence as much as she wants it. And she doesn’t just think he’s putting on airs of a generous husband in front of the doctor. She believes that he means what he says.

“We’ll talk it over,” she says.

“Joey.” Mulder produces a quarter and walks over and hands it to the boy. “Next time you’re in the Byers mercantile, you tell Mr. Byers you want a bag of his best penny candy.”

“Gee, thank you, Sir!”

After they leave the doctor’s place and get back into the wagon, Katherine sits close to Mulder and holds his arm as he drives. “Did you know Mr. Skinner had a boy?” she asks.

“Hell, until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know he had a wife. He doesn’t talk much.”

“I think that minor panic may have caused him to lose what little hair he’s got left.”

Mulder roars with laughter.

#i wrote this #Broken Things #Chapter 17 #MSR #AU

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beebubb · 3 years

Text

How much I think the pastas make and what do they spend money on (also this is based on my AU I made)

Jeff the killer: makes the most money out of all of them (except for the proxies) sense he was slenderman's first killer apprentice. Jeff has good stealth and very agile with the knife and really strong. Though him earning more and being good at his job has made him kinda cocky and a bit narcissistic. The only thing thing he still struggles with at his job is controlling himself and sticking to being stealthy sense he's used to savagely attacking his victims and making a huge mess (slenderman doesn't really mind the mess but he doesn't like when he loses control of himself sense it usually draws attention to Jeff or others that are on the mission with him and police come). As to how much money he makes a year he makes around 110K. He's makes good money but he doesn't "look" wealthy sense he doesn't like fancy stuff like designer clothes or go out to eat at 5 star restaurants. He prefers to save his money sense he doesn't use much sense he literally just wears jeans and hoodies.

Jane: makes around 75K sense she doesn't really kill like the others. She just kills only when it's necessary and when they need backup. She isn't dedicated much sense her goal used to be to get revenge on Jeff but it pretty much failed sense no one can kill or hurt anyone that lives in the mansion. She saves up her money that she earns and she's pretty fancy so she sometimes buys designer clothes and buys cosmetics usually (especially spends on makeup like jeffree star)

Ben drowned: makes 80K a year. He dedicates to hacking and online stalk future victims or any zalgo enemies. He would probably make way more if he decided to become a full time proxy like masky and hoodie but he's kinda lazy to work all the time. His money doesn't last him much sense he's always spending his money on merch, anime figures, and video games.

Nina the killer: she makes around 80K sense she does enjoy killing and will kill anyone just for fun (just like Jeff). She would make way more if she actually stuck to plans and was more professional at her job sense, just like Jeff, she loses control and attacks randomly (let's say masky and hoodie has to bail her out of jail many times). She loooves to spend money on clothes, makeup, accessories, etc though she ends up being broke for all the excessive shopping (though sometimes she wants to save money to buy a Luis Vuitton bag)

Ticci toby: earn 130k a year. Even if he is considered "immature" or "irresponsible" at his job, he is actually really good at his job. Ever sense slenderman helped him with his ticking and his mental disorders, he has had more control over what he does and how he does it. Also let's say his numbness to pain helps him last longer when it comes to fights with zalgo minions and fesity victims. He saves his money sense he doesn't really have anything to spend on except for the occasional prop or material he'll need to prank or mess with masky

Hoodie: makes 150k a year. He's had a lot of experience and is great at stealth, clean with his kills, quick, and great and getting rid of evidence. He saves up money sense he doesn't spend on much besides on beer

Masky: he makes the most out of any proxy due to working with slender for many years and being good at his job sense he has good knowledge on stealth, manipulation, getting rid of evidence, and actually knows a lot about hacking like Ben (he makes 250k) but he doesn't keep much of it sense he asked slenderman for a money loan years ago and still isn't done paying him. (he refuses to tell anyone how much he asked for and on what the money was used),so he's usually broke and can't spend on much and if he does spend money on something, he looks for the best deals

Sherry: 90k a year. Usually new proxies make a bit less due to not having many years of experience but what helped her earn more was her forensic science knowledge and psychology (it came useful when interrogating zalgo minions or victims) , which was very useful for cleaning evidence after a kill. She usually saves up her money but she sometimes buys games and consoles like Ben sense she always wanted a PS4 and Nintendo switch when she was little. So basically anything that she wasn't able to have as a kid, she buys it now.

Eyeless jack: he earns around 300k a year but not for working for slenderman, but by selling organs on the black market. He only stays at the mansion sense he also has knowledge about biology and forensic sciences like sherry, so he helps them from time to time. He saves up money sense he doesn't have anything to spend on sense he doesn't even need to buy food sense he's a cannibal.

Laughing jack: doesn't have much of a stable income. He's unemployed and sometimes earns money if he catches a temporary job. He stays at a shitty apartment with will Grossman sense he literally can't afford anything better. When he does have money he pays his half of the rent and the rest usually goes to food or beer.

Clockwork: 80K a year. She's good at her job sense she has good stealth and is actually very patient when it comes to victims, she leaves a huge mess though, and buts it's not much of a problem sense the proxies usually take care of that. Probably the only thing she spends on is weapons sense she likes to experiment sometimes.

Amelie: she makes 95K a year. She makes a bit more than usual for a Starting proxy sense she has knowledge on killing (she learned from her family sense they were a mafia family) and knew how kill, get rid of evidence, and stalk people. She is a big spender sense her clothing is pretty much all designer made and likes to go on frequent shopping sprees like Nina. Also her brother and father are millionaires , so even if she earned less, her dad and brother would literally buy her anything she wanted.

Will grossman: doesn't have a stable income either. He's unemployed and just like LJ, he sometimes gets money for temporary jobs. When he does have money he pays his part of rent and the rest goes towards food, video games, and beer.

Amari: 65k a year. She knows a lot about stalking, getting rid of evidence, and has a good physical form and endurance but she doesn't earn much still sense she hasn't gone to any proper missions with the proxies sense she is a student at the institution (goes to the same school as will). They still pay her though because even though she hasn't been in many missions, she still helps them in things like cleaning the area and stalking victims. She is studying to become an official slender proxy though. She spends her money on rent (decided to live with will and LJ so rent wouldn't be too expensive and also to hide that she was a slender proxy apprentice and not draw attention to zalgo or his minions) and buys groceries to actually make proper food for will and LJ and herself (basically being the mom of the group). She doesn't mind how much money she earns at the moment sense she came from a wealthy family and inherited a good amount of money)

Damien: is literally a millionaire. After he died and got to the underworld, he started his own weapon and drug business which actually became really successful. He can spend all the money he wants.

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meggannn · 3 years

Note

shepard/garrus?

oh boy, sorry for the late response! I always end up posting these things and then going to read/take a nap/play a game or something. anyway writing this up took two hours, i hope it is even slightly interesting to read. cut because this is looooooong

What made you ship it?

I think I was interested in this ship before I even played ME. I was just like “I know Shepard is a character and an alien named Garrus is a character, and people draw porn of them together.” because I think it’s reasonable to say it’s one of, if not the most, popular ship in the fandom, or at least in ME’s tumblr fandom? and the way people talked about it, I knew their tropes were #banter, #battle couple, #partnerships, and... and as we’ve learned from royai, I am a bit weak to those tropes (assuming I like both of the characters). the way people talked about them also from a “best friends” angle—which is sort of forced in-game in a way that seems strange to me now—was also a plus in its favor at the time. (if they get together, I do see their friendship/companionship, in whatever form, in some ways integral to their romance—unless you’re playing full far-right renegade who’s like a xenophobe and hate-fucking Garrus, I guess?—but Bioware also kind of shoehorned Garrus into that best-friend role and that’s a topic for another day.)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

(my friend will hit me if I say “partnerships” again) I’m gonna talk about the way I play my Shepard now, because so much is dependent on the unique Shepard. for Lydia’s journey over the series, I see a large part of her journey as basically a study of her (often self-inflicted) loneliness. and she never entirely breaks her habits of self-isolation, but the events of the series force her to be vulnerable in a way she would prefer not to be in front of a crew, or, y’know, ever. Garrus becomes an integral part of that story to help her break her out of these bad habits (all of the crew does, particularly also Ashley for my Shep), but to my eyes, the story of “Shepard and Garrus’s relationship” is also one of mutual respect, burden-sharing, and sanity and morality checks.

I don’t think of their “mentor” relationship in ME1 very often mostly because I don’t think it was done particularly well, but for all its faults, I do like how naturally the jump from “subordinate” in ME1 to “ally” in ME2 felt; once you meet Garrus on Omega you feel more on the same footing as two friends greeting each other because you’ve both recently been through trauma and the sight of a friendly face in a station full of hostiles is so unexpectedly welcome that it lets them both hope things will be okay for a minute. starting from that moment, Garrus becomes one of the few people who can see “under” her mask, I guess: partly because he’s one of the few combatants from the SR-1 who knows Shepard well and sees who she is both on the field and onboard the SR-2, with the ability to compare both to the times of “before you died”; partly because he has trauma response training and recognizes it in others even if he doesn’t in himself; partly because his loyal personality makes him sensitive to wonder how she’s dealing with being resurrected; and also partly because they’ve both gone through similar things. namely, getting your squad killed and blaming yourself for it, and it possibly being your fault (BioWare is inconsistent on what Shepard’s role was on Akuze, but in ME1 she has the chance to reply that she was responsible for getting them out safely, and failed).

necessity forces Shepard to adapt to things like being effectively forced to work for terrorists; being isolated from her support system; being resurrected and feeling like a stranger in her own body; later, getting decommissioned for making an incredibly difficult call to save the galaxy; watching your homeworld burn; being forced into a political role negotiating high stakes you don’t know how to play; being told you’re the spearhead of a galactic war; doing all of this without a full crew complement; the list goes on. those are all, on their own, incredibly isolating, traumatic experiences, and my Shepard’s not emotionally sane at the best of times. (emotionally stable, perhaps, only in the most literal of terms, at least on the surface. she’s like a rock when shit hits the fan. emotionally sane, no, for that reason and more.)

the tables have turned, and Garrus ends up becoming a large part of helping her regain agency in most if not all of those things: in ME2 he was a former crew member she trusted, and he was eager to work for her and be distracted from his failures on Omega. over in the battery, he is himself recovering from a major injury (like Shepard) and going through the aftermath of a bloodbath he feels responsible for (like Shepard), working on a crew that holds him at arm’s length, that he also... arguably... didn’t have much choice in joining (like Shepard—I’m assuming he wasn’t held hostage and joined voluntarily after waking up, but lbr this is unconfirmed). their reasons are different and varied, but they don’t realize until much later that they have found each other at the most opportune time, providing a sense of stability for each other, and also, frankly, sanity and morality checks.

in ME3, he steps into this role more fully because he’s become more disciplined, is doing work firmly in his wheelhouse, and paired up against Shepard struggling with their positions somewhat reversed from ME1: him more confident and her now completely out of her element, floundering with her place on a galactic scale. without Garrus—and Chakwas, and Joker, and Tali, and later the loyalty of the entire SR-2—the story of ME would be a tragedy, and it would end shortly in ME2; it’d be the story of how my Shepard slowly went insane being forced to fight boogeymen under a terrorist banner. Garrus isn’t, like, the keeper of her sanity, but their ability to check each other, and see themselves in the eyes of each other, provides stability and occasionally a bit of a wake-up call to both of them. when they’re both vulnerable, they both feel most seen, and most understood, by an alien that listens.

one angle of this ship that highly interests me at the moment, along with the above, is that while it’s not illegal for them to be together, it’s still... a really bad fucking idea lmao. (I could make the argument that it’s a bad idea for Shepard to be in any relationship with their crew but I think there are a few ships—Garrus, Tali, any Alliance crew at all—that realistically would be huge political clusterfucks.) so overcoming personal insecurity and fear of the unknown to acknowledge interest in each other, and the desire to become an item, getting roadblocked by a reality wake-up call with the fact that 1) she’s his boss, 2) Garrus comes from a society where station matters, like, sort of a lot and it even determines your job and how much legal power you have, 3) the potential political blowback (which would be ENORMOUS because lbr the hierarchy may not care about what turians do in off-hours but they WOULD care about the superior/subordinate thing, the human thing, the fact that they’re doing this while a war is going on. basically one of their best agents is on the Normandy to negotiate their interests and they’re basically at the whims of their relationship the whole time)... it’s a lot! all of that sort of makes it tragic, but I’m curious to see how they’d overcome it.

anyway, all of that is where I’m coming from when I think or write about this ship, but there’s a lot more I’m not mentioning here. there are a lot of juxtapositions that in my head that I’ve either added or extrapolated from canon that also interest me about this pairing. Garrus is a former cop, as is his father; Lydia is a poor kid who used to be in a gang out of necessity. Garrus is a turian with often traditionalist thinking; Shepard is a human who has much less sociopolitical power than him, even if she is his superior on the Normandy. both of them are roughly as old as the First Contact War, when their people were at each other’s throats not thirty years ago. Garrus idolizes Spectrehood while Lydia hates it, feeling it was forced on her. they can’t eat the same food. and yet despite all of that, and the fact that they need translators to communicate, they manage to understand each other when a lot of the world around them doesn’t.

god this is not even the full list of it. anyway I could go on but I’ll stop there lol.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

oh jesus, so much. I’m a grouchy and picky shipper, be warned.

pining can always make my ships more interesting, and imo it’s a consistent part of any ship of Shepard’s, considering it’s wildly inappropriate and unprofessional for her to be fucking any subordinate, so I think more consideration could be given to shakarian in the “we shouldn’t be having a thing and oh also you’re an alien and I’m kind of scared of both your government and your body” angle! I hope to explore that a bit with a fic I’m writing (if I ever finish it, god).

I hate the flavor of fandom!shakarian where Shepard romanced Kaidan in ME1 then felt “betrayed” when he’s confused and hurt on Horizon, so she gets with Garrus as like... revenge? idk. and then Garrus usually develops this bias against Kaidan as a sort of author mouthpiece (which is inconsistent with his characterization cause Garrus is nothing but pleased to have Kaidan back on the SR-2 in ME3!) and takes up the anti-Kaidan crusade cause K ~questioned the commander~ (since when does Garrus fall over himself defending a superior from criticism?) like, idk. I think Garrus can be sensitive to the fact that that reuniting must’ve been painful for Shepard, but also be aware that it was also really painful for Kaidan because all of Kaidan’s complicated feelings about Shepard’s resurrection were, realistically, things Garrus should’ve felt too! this trope is very popular but just feels like manufactured drama for drama’s sake, idk, I’m also not big on love triangles so. I would much rather people just rescue Ashley on Virmire and avoid the whole thing rather than have previously-romanced Kaidan around in ME3 for the sole purpose of forcing him to watch Shepard/Garrus being happy together tbh.

I think full goody-goody paragon Shepard is too preachy to make a good partner for Garrus and full shoot-anyone-in-my-way renegade Shepard encourages and emboldens his worst tendencies (and Castis Vakarian is right to disapprove of them). most people end up playing some combination of both, or if they do settle in one camp or the other, usually there is some sense of realism where Shepard doesn’t play nice/naive or play mean all the time, so it’s rare I see either of those kinds of extreme Shepards depicted, but in general if there is a Shepard that is so far in one direction it seems illogical to me that they ever stay together.

I think wanting a mShep romance for Garrus is a pretty welcome idea in fandom, but adding onto that, I think Garrus should’ve been romanceable in ME3 for players who changed their minds on other romances or want to play slow-burn romances! we had it for Kaidan—and should’ve had it for Ash—so (pounds fist on desk) Garrus too imo!

I hate the canon get-together because Shepard walking into the battery and asking “do you want to fuck” feels very tailored to the players who want to romance Garrus, not to who Commander Shepard is, imo. it lacked all of the subtlety and depth of some other romances—until the scene of Garrus coming to her cabin with a wine bottle, at least, cause I do like that scene, but anyway, I dislike the actual get-together.

just in general, I’m a stick in the mud, so my favorite iteration of this ship is where Shepard is resolutely professional, and the challenge of it becomes him getting her to open up, not the other way around. like, I think on some level every iteration of Shepard is a bit of a lunatic/eccentric, because you have to be to do the things they do, but I like to see their flirting with less of her calling him “big guy” (not sure where that came from, is that in canon? I must’ve missed it, but personally I don’t like it) and more of Garrus making wisecracks in the canteen while he’s talking to Joker, but he’s looking at her out of the corner of his eyes and he really said his joke with the aim of making her laugh, and as she’s reading her datapad she hears him, and even when she wants to chuckle she stops himself and just smirks cause she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a laugh, but he sees her lips twitch and feels his heart flutter. that. I want more of that.

oh lastly, I hate “Shepard takes Vakarian clan markings” in any iteration. there is no canon relation to turians being poc—in fact I’d argue they have sociopolitical privilege real-world bipoc do not—but the concept of social face markings, face tattoos, etc., is rooted in non-white cultures and with the fact that 1) turians had a literal civil war over the territories those markings represent, 2) we don’t even know if marriage is how markings are shared or if non-turians are ever invited to wear them in the first place, 3) most of the art of this trend, lbr, is of mostly white Shepards in wedding dresses and blue face paint... all that combined just makes me frown and scroll faster every time I see it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bipoc Shepard with Vakarian face markings in fic/art, and that to me is very telling (not because they should have them, but because bipoc fans who make bipoc Shepards usually recognize when a racially-coded trope is uhhhhh not so great to appropriate for someone not of that group).

#megan does memes #marisjellyfish #shakarian

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aftgficrec · 3 years

Note

hi again! Fics where Neil has a kid or lil sibling. I would prefer Neil not to be too old. <3

Hello again! The fics at the top of our previous recs will probably suit your requirements best, but there are plenty more fics with a parental/brother Neil in our other posts. We’ve tried to find a few more for this post. Enjoy the read! - S

‘Ember’, ‘Tales from a quirky small town’, ‘Eighteen wheels and three beating hearts’ and ‘what now’ here

‘Sunflower. Vol 6’ here

‘The F-Word’ here

Neil with a child:

Neil/Andrew with a kid before they meet here

new kid fics here

new single parent aus here

parents!Andreil here,

more Andreil-as-parents here

Andreil adopt Kevin here

Andreil and Kandreil with kids here

K(andreil) fostering here

Neil as a brother:

Neil with a twin here

Neil with a brother/sibling here

Neil with a sister here

Neil with a half-sister here

The Alliance of the Diabolical Younger Siblings (HCs and Snippets) by Haven247 [Rated M, 4445 words, incomplete, last updated Dec 2020]

Just some of my HCs and Snippets regarding their alliance to save their martyr older siblings. I might write some snippets from the HCs when I have time. Credit and special thanks to nekojita and everyone who made all those great HCs and AUS.

tw: attempted sexual assault, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: animal cruelty

Razor sharp smile and icy blue eyes by jane_dorne [Not Rated, 14109 words, complete, 2020]

Neil thought his sister had died years ago. So when he receives a call from his uncle Stuart, two day sbefore Christmas, informing him of Nathalie Victoria Wesninsky's whereabouts, saying he is surprised is an understatement. Of course he goes straight to her and offers her a place with the Foxes.

Neil has a sister and the Foxes adopt her, because of course they do.

tw: panic attacks, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse

The Raven That Found A Home by ExyDownUnder [Rated T, 96028 words, incomplete, last updated Dec 2020]

Everyone can see that the Foxes were a fractured mess, but their latest disaster might be thing thing that will finally bring them together.

Kit knows that his hand Neilʻs days are numbered, but now that heʻs starting to realise that he truly has nothing to lose he wonʻt go down without a fight for what he believes in.

Kit knows that he canʻt protect the Foxes from Rikoʻs mess, but he feels like he can lessen the mess that happens to the people that took the time and patience to deal with him and Neil.

Andrew is someone that Kit still finds every interesting, he wants to know more about him but Andrew wonʻt let anything go for free.

tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: canonical character death, tw: implied/referenced csa

Being So Normal by iridescent_blue [Rated T, 18610 words, complete, Aftg Fall Exchange 2020]

Andrew has a stable life. He has a stable job, people who he doesn’t hate talking to, a cat who likes him, and a house with a door that locks. He’s fine.

But that’s the problem. He’s just fine. No more, no less. Some days, he forgets that behind the picket fences and pristine gardens are people just as messed up as him, and it feels like he’s alone in Palmetto.

Until he’s sitting at a PTA meeting, bored out of his mind, waiting to drive Renee home, when this guy steps up to the mic. And a lot changes.

Serendipity by thisisnotourlasthunt [Rated G, 2015 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2021]

Neil finds a small girl on one of his runs and discover that her and her older brother need help, in the process he and Andrew get attached to the kids.

tw: blood, tw: injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: ableist language

The Trials and Tribulations of Being a Teacher by Foxy_Kyle [Rated T, 7045 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2020]

Andrew is an English teacher. He gets paid a mediocre amount to teach obnoxious high school students in a mediocre town. Palmetto, South Carolina is a very small town. The type where everyone knows each other. Andrew hates that and tries everything he can to make sure nobody knows anything about him.

Andrew crushing on one of his students 'parent'.

tw: blood, tw: injury

I love you, I love you, I love you. by abraxos_is_toothless [Rated G, 1504 words, complete, 2020]

Neil and Andrew adopted a little girl six months ago named Jules. The little one has a bad dream and they boys are just really soft.

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sunflowersseemhappy · 3 years

Note

Do you have any headcanons for main 6 set in modern times? What kind of job would they have, what music would they like or whatever else? I love your headcanons, they're always so detailed and on point 💖

I really loved doing this, only reason it took so long is because I definitely over thought a lot of this. Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy the headcanons, I definitely want to do more of this! SO when I have the time I definitely will and I actually have a rough plan of what the story and the background for the six and MC’s would be.

The “Event” mentioned references the plague but when and if I get to it that will all be explained.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED but here is my Masterlist in the meantime!

Asra

You’ll usually find Asra in one of two places, the shop or the local cafe/bakery, living the slow city life.

Asra loves to people watch and more importantly he loves photography, he’s always taking pictures, a lot of them are of MC.

His bedroom wall is plastered with his photography and he sells a lot of them as a side gig on etsy.

He has a great blog too.

But his main focus is the shop, tucked away on a quiet corner street it feels faintly magical. Asra does tarot, sells candles, crystals and other trinkets, as well as herbal remedies that Julian admits work quite well.

In this AU Asra grew up in foster care, so when he finally found his home in the shop he never thought about living anywhere else.

It’s stayed that way for years, sharing a two bedroom flat above the shop with MC, its cluttered at times, filled with secondhand belongings but Asra loves having his own space and own things.

And he so loves taking his little holidays out of the city, bringing back more trinkets that bring good luck and fortune.

Asra always wears sneakers or trainers on his feet, mainly because all he does is walk in the city.

Although he does have a painted van for the shop deliveries; he and MC spent a week painting a swirling pattern on its sides.

His wardrobe is all tees with faded logos and cotton pants but on the rare occasion he decides to dress up Asra has an impossibly colourful blouse and faded jeans he loves to wear.

And there are so many hats! Vesuvia is sunny but he has more hats than he needs, although it's nice to have one for any occasion.

Also has crocs, they are an abomination of pink.

Asra’s phone of choice is an old samsung, he keeps meaning to update it but he’s a bit scared the photos on it will get lost.

Asra and technology don’t always mix well, for some reason...

Even in this universe Asra wouldn’t be Asra if he didn’t have Faust, a mischievous lavender python who always seems to escape her vivarium and ends up in Asra’s camera bag.

When Asra picked her out at the pets store he was told he was the only person she had ever not bitten or squeezed. Asra believes in fate, so he took her back home with him and the two are inseparable.

Asra oh so loves music, and just about any kind of tune can be found on his mp3 however he soon found his favourite to be the chillhop tunes the cafe played everyday. They really relax him.

The biggest Disney fan when he was younger, Asra then slowly decided Dreamworks were better but his favourite movies are those from Studio Ghibli. Asra simply adores the art, the music and the stories.

As mentioned Asra loves photography but he also quickly discovered watercolour paint and he doesn’t claim to be good at it but he does love making little pieces of art for birthdays and Christmas.

Speaking of which Christmas is his favourite holiday.

Asra also dabbles in growing orchids, he's too successful and there are so many he and MC don’t know what to do with them!

Asra’s favourite hobby aside from photography is rollerblading. He’s pretty good at it, cruising through the streets and along the dockside of the city (he definitely dragged MC into trying it out).

Asra never really thought he’d be one to get a tattoo but after getting Faust he changed his mind, since then he has a gorgeous complicated tattoo of the little snake on his shoulder blade.

It was only after “The Event” that Asra got another one; MC’s favourite flower on his hip bone.

Nadia

Nadia Santrivia, she’s beautiful, generous and married one of the richest men in the city, for the most part she’s alright with that.

Although Nadia hasn’t always lived in Vesuvia she’s tuned into the city around her so well, she’s in her element and thriving.

Work doesn’t end, if there was ever a beginning to start with. It's one thing after another; approving designs, attending fancy dinners, opening a charity fundraiser. Life is busy for the CEO of Vesuvia Industries.

Nadia’s happy to run Lucio’s business, because she knows she can do good with it but she can get lonely. Thankfully she has several friends who she can rely on to cheer her on...

The most important thing is that she can be herself, her own person, being last in line for her parent’s business and overshadowed by several sisters Nadia needed an escape.

Vesuvia provided the opportunity.

Nadia’s apartment is sat above the clouds in the skyscraper of Vesuvia Industries, much the same as the other universe home and work go hand in hand when it comes to Nadia.

She’s not materialistic, her apartment is clean and open and perfect for yoga and other purposes that require open space. It's very new and high tech, the coffee machine is her favourite thing though.

The views of the sunrise over the bay are gorgeous.

Ashamed to admit she has tons of shoes.

It’s usually required of Nadia to have the suits and dresses befitting a woman of her status, so when the sun goes down or she has a day off Nadia looks like an entirely different person.

She’s no less stylish, but her airy blouse’s, ripped denim jeans, subtle leather jacket and ankle boots give her a whole different persona, and man does it make her look good on her motorcycle.

Yes a motorcycle, Nadia owns one. It comes out of her garage only once a month but when it does she turns heads.

The rest of the time Naida is pretty eco-friendly with an electric car the business made just for her in a deep shade of purple.

As the CEO of the company Nadia is expected to have the latest iPhone model, her phone is always ringing and if she weren’t so patient she’d probably hurl it off the skyscraper roof.

Nadia always wanted a pet but she could never figure out what kind, and one dropped into her lap literally. Turns out she’s an owl person, although Nadia would never consider Chandra a pet more a companion.

A skyscraper is no place for a semi-wild owl but Nadia is happy enough to make the trip to the stables outside of Vesuvia to see Chandra and give her toys. Such a change from the small owlet Nadia raised.

When it comes to music Nadia is very picky, she spent her childhood listening to her sister’s choice of music and certain songs just put her in a bad mood, except for jazz.

That music preference surprised her but as soon as she discovered Lucio didn’t like it she was hooked. She thought about learning the saxophone (not to annoy Lucio or anything, no definitely not...)

Nadia’s not a big movie watcher, although she is a big fan of disaster movies when the mood strikes (it's nice to think about more chaotic things happening than signing a stack of papers), mainly she only has time to watch tv shows.

Her favourite is the Walking Dead but MC has caught her watching ‘how its made’ shows too. Of course being an avid inventor Nadia would be enthralled by seeing how her car or coffee machine is put together.

Speaking of inventing, although Nadia always wanted to make it her job she’s only ever gotten to approve the inventions her company makes.

It's not entirely what she wanted but thankfully she has just enough time to squeeze in working on her little projects. Ones she hopes will help others one day.

Nadia’s found it super important in the big city to keep herself safe, between her hobbies of yoga, kung fu and fencing she’s a pretty formidable opponent. It’s saved her life more than she’ll ever admit.

Her other hobbies, to list a few are horse riding, polo, piano, swimming, wine tasting, and playing those arcade grabber machines (she has about 50 teddy bears and MC has about the same amount). Most of those hobbies began in her childhood.

Nadia likes to pretend she is above getting a tattoo but anyone who knows her well enough will reveal she has a owl shadow tattoo on her inner heel.

Julian

Poor Julian is the definition of a struggling city batchelor, and he certainly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still the most well traveled of the group Julian spent his formative years abroad in the army as a field medic (where he met Lucio), now though he’s a lean mean crime fighting machine!

Well he’s a forensics doctor for the Vesuvia PD, but it still counts as being a crime fighter! He’s never really lost that dramatic flair that's for sure.

He’s been a bit of everything; medic and doctor, waiter, translator, actor, sailor, troublemaker and a fugitive (but that’s a story for another day).

But Vesuvia truly is his real home, a place he’s always come back to and where he’s made friends and family, enemies, lovers, and memories.

Sure he lives in the ‘bad part’ of town as Asra calls it, but Julian feels at home enough that it doesn’t bother him, that and he’s got Mazelinka to handle the riff raff.

The two of them share a two-storey house that sits next to his favourite bar, a bit too convenient for Maz’s liking. Despite that the place is cozy and old, all wood flooring and furniture that's been around longer than Julian’s lifetime, it’s filled with the scent of cooking and coffee and other than the box tv and Julian’s phone there's almost no modern technology.

Julian’s room has faded photos of his friends, and postcards from places he’s been too and a few posters of his favourite plays, as well as rough sketches tacked to the corkboard his desk is littered with papers and he even has an old school microscope.

In the mess of his room only Julian can find the thing that he’s looking for, he calls it an ‘organized mess’ when in reality it’s really just a mess.

Unfortunately this extends to his clothing choices too, Julian is terrible at laundry so there is no end to the stains on his mellow patterned tees and jeans, the only smart thing about his wardrobe are his boots and oxfords.

Quite true to form his black trench coat is a constant companion. He usually dresses like he’s in a black and white movie or like a scruffy doctor when he’s in his lab coat.

Still has an eye patch, his depth perception when crossing roads is not great... there are a lot of hospital bills.

Also the reason he doesn’t drive unless he can help it, Julian doesn’t own a car but he’s prone to borrowing one if he needs it (usually from Asra).

Julian is very much the guy on the subway who falls asleep on your shoulder because it's the only place his mind isn’t working overtime.

MC thinks it’s very cute.

Julian’s not really too fussed about his phone of choice, Samsung, Apple, so long as he can make calls and do google searches on symptoms of a flu he’s good. No matter how hard he tries his screen is always cracked.

People often point out the raven following Julian around, he’s not too sure if its the same one but Julian knows its his own fault feeding the scrawny thing when it landed on his window pane. Now it won’t leave him alone, Julian took to calling it Malak and he’s quite fond of the bird even if it likes to cackle for food outside his window at an ungodly hour in the morning.

Maz has threatened to cook Malak on more than one occasion.

Music is one of the few things that helps Julian focus, he’s not usually super into any particular artist or album but his main love is music from musicals and movie soundtracks, if he’s able to do so he’ll sing along.

Lead forensic doctor Valdemar finds it highly unprofessional when they are conducting autopsies.

Almost has no time to watch movies or tv but if you strapped Julian to a chair and put on Brooklyn 99 or any kind of superhero movie he might enjoy it just a little bit...

Honestly though those things are just background noise for him, Julian will put on the tv to keep himself occupied while he’s doing reports. But he loves comedy movies and shows, they might tear him away from his laptop just long enough that he gets a few good laughs.

However if Mazlinka gets the old camcorder out he’s all over watching old home videos of him and Portia and his old hound dog, he’s just so nostalgic sometimes.

Thinks learning counts as a hobby, Julian habitually grabs any book he can to read through so youtube is a miracle in his eyes. Free content, that he can listen to and learn from as well as visually see? Yes please.

Julian learned to play the fiddle when he was younger, for a time as a teen he even went street performing to earn money for Portia’s obsession with bracelet making. He doesn’t play it much anymore but he’ll give MC a tune anyday.

He’s also very invested in cocktail mixing, only thing he mixes is Salty Bitters, he’ll argue any day that the Salty Bitter counts as a cocktail.

Also very invested in his self sustaining bio-tank at work, the other officers are growing concerned about the leeches Julian likes to keep in it. They’re planning an intervention.

The only tattoo Julian had was one forcibly given during “The Event”, his ‘murderers mark’ on his hand. He’s really ashamed of it because it reminds him of the part he had in the disaster that befell Vesuvia.

Muriel

He definitely suits the other universe more, it's even harder to get away from people in this modern world.

But the start remains the same, he was lost and his only friend was Asra for a long time, until Lucio came along and tricked him into doing unspeakable things as a ‘bodyguard’ until he escaped.

People are unavoidable and Muriel keeps to himself during his job as a keeper for a local animal sanctuary, raising and re-releasing wildlife with other volunteers, he practically runs the place.

But the volunteers know not to bother him especially when he goes back to his house on the hill, to take care of his chickens before he vanishes like usual into his house.

No one knows much about him, and he prefers it like that.

Muriel’s home is simple and honestly built for one, there’s only one chair, only one pillow on the bed, only one set of cutlery, only one of everything. It leaks on occasion and always needs fixing, he’ll forgo sleep to fix things.

Who needs more than four hours of sleep anyway?

A lot of Muriel’s belongings are from garage sales, or picked up off the side of the road, not a lot of money goes toward his comfort Muriel prefers that the animals in the sanctuary have comfortable beds and good food.

Muriel’s clothes? He wears them till they die, an usually when he picks them up from a garage sale they’re already pretty close.

For that reason Muriel doesn’t have a specific choice of clothing, he owns jumpers, tees, denim jackets, flannels and whatever jeans and pants fit. He has one pair of khaki coloured boots that are surprisingly well maintained and usually wears a beanie or cattleman hat to hide his face.

Old pick up, old pick up, old pick up! Owns an old pick up truck he fixed up, it breaks down regularly and only plays radio but Inanna enjoys riding in the back. Muriel likes driving a lot on those country roads.

All that’s to be said about Muriel and his phone is this; he owns a nokia and has no intention of getting a smartphone. Ever.

His hands are a bit big for it though, he’s called MC and Julian accidently so many times... and he only usually text’s, so that's awkward.

Inanna is Muriel’s constant companion, and when they’re in the city man do the two of them turn heads. Inanna is a wolfdog in this universe and she definitely looks more wolf than dog.

But she really is a big sweetheart, Muriel raised her from a puppy after she was rejected and placed in a shelter, he knew a wolf dog would need some special attention to grow into a perfect companion rather than a dangerous animal.

Anyone can look at Muriel and instantly think he’s one of those people who would play country music, for the most part that’s true. He does play the guitar and can sing okay, he does like country but his real love of music comes from indie artists.

He can’t really explain it but the music gives him a sense of carelessness and hope he’s never known.

Doesn’t really watch tv or movies, Muriel is almost always too busy for that but he’s found it the strangest thing, Inanna likes watching tv...

After that he got drawn in by the documentaries about animals, he didn’t really realize that people did shows about the habitats and behaviours of animals but he finds himself entranced by it when he passes by.

He soon relented and sits on the floor with his arm draped over Inanna as they watch documentaries about wolves in Alaska.

With the amount of animals Muriel raises anyone would call it a job, Muriel however would argue it's a hobby for him. Sure waking up every hour in the night to feed raccoon babies isn’t ideal but it's never been anything short of joyous to watch them go back to the wild.

Muriel's other hobby centres around his guitar and learning songs to play to himself and maybe a certain person *cough* MC *cough*.

He’s also an avid baker, none of his meals are ready made. Leading on from that he forages for mushrooms, and herbs rather than buys them.

Muriel doesn’t have a tattoo, only his scars.

He thought about getting some but he doesn’t trust someone to touch him that way and also he’s not a big fan of needles.

Probably a good thing otherwise Inanna and all his chickens names would be on his arm.

Portia

Absolutely suits the modern life in this universe, Portia somehow finds the time to do everything, the bustling worker or the relaxed dreamer.

She’s almost everywhere in the city, doing everything at once; working at Vesuvia Industries, grabbing the sweetest iced tea at the cafe, exploring the corruption of downtown streets.

Portia is obsessed with knowing every inch of the city, and what goes on inside it because it's a very strange city with a stranger history.

Portia is a great and helpful assistant to Nadia, but she’s also hiding a lot including her identity as Pasha Devorak the reporter for Vesuvian Times.

She has as many curious secrets as the city.

Portia previously lived in a small studio flat however since working for Nadia she has been lucky enough to afford to rent out a small cottage outside the city. She loves it so much and other than being in an AU not much has changed between the two cottages.

It’s shielded by so many grand trees and a vivacious garden that it feels like her own little world, the inside of the cottage is filled with hand knitted blankets, painted glass figurines and the warm smell of baked goods.

Sometimes its a bigger place than Portia can manage by herself but she likes taking to fixing things as they come along, she definitely is a fan of the saying “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!”

Her clothing choices are just so cute and by no means is she afraid of showing off her cottage core style; jumpers, skirts, vest tops, crop tops and patterned blouses look really good on her. Of course the garden requires the heavy duty stuff, sweatpants, a tattered tee and the old hoodie that refuses to die.

She’s not to much into heels even though she’s short, Portia prefers pumps and loafers because “comfort over beauty!” (although she would be pretty cute with or without).

Nadia finds Portia’s headstrong and optimism very amusing and definitely takes a few life lessons from Portia.

Who needs to drive? Portia doesn’t, she loves taking the bus or the train wherever she goes. That way she can bop her head to her tunes while watching the landscape go by, in a beautiful intricate place like Vesuvia it's important to take it all in.

That and everyone can agree that Portia behind the wheel of a vehicle is a disaster, she just gets so distracted.

Nadia has offered Portia a new phone many times but Portia is plenty happy enough with her older gen 6 iphone (because if she got a new one she’d have to get wireless headphones!) Also she’d feel bad for Siri.

Unfortunately Pepi the cat came from terrible circumstances, certain circumstances where Portia jumped of a bridge after witnessing someone chuck a mewling bag into the river.

But Portia is so thankful for her amazing kitten, the two of them protect each other. Though Pepi’s idea of protecting Portia is making sure the birds don’t feed from the feeder outside and meowing at the fridge when it’s too loud.

Portia’s music taste is disarming to those who don’t know her well, she is a huge fan of rock, any rock music just so long as it’s good and a classic (ACDC, Queen, etc...) she likes to think she is a connoisseur of rock.

Julian can not put into words how much he abhorred it when his little sister would blast that music to drown out his.

Portia will either watch every movie or show when it comes out or will binge watch a show or movie after forgetting it existed. There is no inbetween, but she loves media, consumes it even.

Detective shows and spy movies are her favourite but she’ll enjoy just about anything unless it's a musical she was forced to watch one too many times because of Julian.

Portia has so many hobbies, one would say too many but she digresses.

Of course gardening is at the top of her list, moreso because the garden always needs doing but she gets a great sense of pride growing her own food and Pepi loves chasing the spiders that hide in the strawberries.

Portia is also a very avid blogger, there is a lot of conspiracy theories on there but with a following of half the city it seems pretty popular.

In her downtime Portia is loves to relax with her favourite soft drink and beat V3suviaC0unt#1 ass on her games console, she finds the shrieking of her enemy to be great fun.Portia’s love of games however soon transpired to collecting action figures of her favourite game characters.

She is very protective of them.

Like Muriel, Portia also doesn’t have a tattoo. It’s not that she’s afraid of needles but she just hasn’t found a reasonably good design to get yet.

Lucio

Lucio is definitely the one out of the six who was made for the modern world, sure being a Count is cool and all but in this world he can have both power and freedom and not have to sit in every meeting called.

He’s never once taken anything seriously, Lucio’s power has been built on the backs of others without him ever having to raise a finger.

It’s happened everywhere he goes, in the army he sacrificed the good of his teammates to rise in the ranks, he forced the Asra’s parents to make him the best prosthetic arm in history, he codled up to an old dying man to get his business and when he found out that wasn’t for him Lucio pawned it off to his wife and rolled onto the next devious plan.

Lucio’s been an army man, a CEO, a crime lord and the cause of “The Event” but maybe one day he’ll rise above those defining moments and be greater (but that is a story for another day).

Of course Lucio did live with Nadia for a time, but when he made her CEO Lucio took to calling his mansion home, Nadia wasn’t a fan of the creepy vibe it gave off which is just as well because Lucio hosts a lot of unsavoury characters...

True to form each room in that place has only the most expensive belongings, every bed is king size and the garage is filled with gas guzzling monstrosities of cars. It’s not cluttered by any means, but it's gaudy and shows off his wealth.

The only place things seem normal is the kitchen, Lucio doesn’t spend much time in there but on the wall sits a board of old memories when he got along with the others, they didn’t always find him unbearable.

Lucio’s torn it down and put it up so many times already he can never make up his mind if he wants to keep it.

Only thing Lucio ever liked about running a company were the expensive suits he was told he had to wear at least that was a great improvement on his fashion sense. Of course he’s not always wearing suits sometimes he’ll just wear a dress shirt with one too many buttons undone and a pair of white chinos and trainers.

Sunglasses are a must, that, and a lint roller. The dogs shed a lot...

As mentioned before Lucio has a lot of very pricey cars, he is the product of what would happen in Portia was given a car, he’d get distracted and crash it into the back of another vehicle.

He’s lucky anyone will insure him and that he has so many cars.

Lucio tried to be different to the ‘normies’ by getting his company to make a phone suitable to his taste. A phone that had two charging ports (to charge it twice as fast) and a waterproof casing (that kept it a bit too dry and hot so it spontaneously combusted in his pocket).

Lucio now has the latest iPhone instead.

Owns a lot of pets, the exotic eels, macaques, cockatoo, etc... The same as he does in the normal universe, none of which are particularly nice and well behaved. He prefers his fur babies Mercedes and Melinchor.

They were two dogs he saw fighting in dog fights and he was in love instantly buying them and bringing them to live with him, chaos follows those two like a bad odour.

Lucio decided that to be the cool rich guy he needed to like cool music, for the longest time he spent his time listening to hip hop no one really ever notices that Lucio in fact hates hip hop, he much prefers pop music.

It's a secret he will take to his grave but MC has definitely heard him singing to Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’ in the shower.

Lucio is the biggest movie buff in Vesuvia, he’s definitely offended when no one invites him to premieres, which is why he’s done all he can to get into movies (with little avail). And he will watch anything and enjoy it, he is usually one of those people who don’t realize the book exists when such a movie is out.

But do you know what his favourite kind of movies are?

Romantic-comedies, or just anything that's classed as romance. Date nights with Lucio are pretty good but he cries a lot, poor guy.

Just don’t get started with Lucio and hobbies, if he’s tried something once he’ll make out he knows everything about it and even if he hasn’t tried it he’ll pretend he has. He’s forever speaking out of his a** but no one dares call him out on it.

That being said Lucio really doesn’t have the capability to commit to a hobby, unless parties count? They don’t? They should!

Although one could say maybe planning parties does count...

Tattoos? Lucio has a few; his army number on the back of his neck, a sword piercing a heart on his chest and the twin silhouettes of the dogs running on the heel of his foot.

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