#A snake would read that and be like “Well yes eggs are delicious why are we talking about this? Do you have eggs for me? Are they quail?”

[scoriarose]

Psst, other snake caretakers

I have an idea for April Fools-

who wants in? Private message me for deets.

[weelittleweasley]

june 5 (d.m.)

prompt as requested by anon: draco has always hated his birthday for as long as he could remember. but now that he was with you, you were determined to change his opinion on birthdays.

pairing: post war! draco malfoy x fem! reader, dom! draco x sub! reader

warnings: mentions of food, 18+ sexual content (minors do not interact), male receiving oral (slight face fucking), possessiveness, dirty language,��lingerie, language, hair pulling, mirror play, praise kink

word count: 3.7k

author’s note: please minors do not interact with this! any and all smut on my page is meant for 18+ readers! remember consent is key! 

Excitement coursed through your veins when you had realized you had woken up before the sun had even risen. Careful not to disturb the sleeping birthday boy next to you, you slithered out of your shared bed and slipped on your robe and slippers, making your way into the kitchen.

Today you were on a mission. It was Draco’s birthday and you had been planning out how the day would unfold. It was one of the first birthdays you were spending with Draco after you both had graduated from Hogwarts, so you wanted to make this birthday extra special. You knew regardless of the year, Draco despised his own birthday.

“What’s the point of it?” he would argue. “I was born. Whoopie. What do you want me to do about it?” he’d continue as you laughed. “Seriously. What the fuck is the point? We eat a cake and open presents? I can do that any fucking day. Also, I hate cake,” he’d ramble which just made you laugh harder before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

On the contrary, you loved birthday, regardless if it was yours or not. Celebrating someone’s life and a new year ahead of them made your heart swell with joy. Now that Draco’s birthday had rolled around, you wanted to show him how much you cared for and loved him.

Whilst the birthday boy slept, you began in the kitchen, brewing coffee, whisking eggs, and toasting fresh bread. He can’t be in a bad mood if he’s had something good to eat first thing in the morning, you thought to yourself. 

As you cooked, you watched the sunlight slowly seep in through the kitchen windows of your shared flat, illuminated the dark hardwood floors. The sun warmed you up on the early June morning as you smiled to yourself. Today would be a good day. You would make sure of it. 

You watched the clock tick until the hands hit eight o’clock as you scurried back into your shared master bedroom. Draco’s alarm would be going off any second and you wanted to make sure that you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes on his special day.

As expected the small clock on his nightstand started ringing, causing Draco to stir in his sleep before lazily flopping a hand on it to stop it from chiming that horrendous sound that signaled the start of his day. Draco stretched his arms wide, groaning as he did so, getting the sleep out of his body before rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. You sat at his feet, smiling as he did so. You had always loved when Draco first woke up; he was adorably cranky. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open as he groggily sat up. “Good morning, baby,” he growled in his raspy morning voice. 

Even after being with Draco for two years, your heart still soared at the mention of a nickname he had so fondly given you. You scooted closer to your love and brushed his messy hair from his eyes, “Happy birthday, my love,” you cooed gently as Draco kissed the inside of your palm. 

He groaned, “Don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes, sitting himself up straight. “Today is a day like any other. June 5th is just a regular, ordinary day like any,” he tried to convince you as you sat there, the excitement on your face giving away everything. You couldn’t be coy. “Good Godric, what did you do?” Draco laughs, reading the gleeful expression on your darling face.

You shrugged and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Nothing at all,” you lied as Draco gave you a knowing look. You had been up his arse about his birthday and what he wanted for months and now you had just dropped it? Draco was much smarter than that to know that you had something up your sleeve. You lightly laughed, “I didn’t do anything! I just made breakfast for us like I usually do on Saturdays.”

Draco just chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a ball breaker, you that?” he tells you as you shrug. “Alright, let’s see what mess you made,” he gets up from the bed as you smile and rise from the bed, running to the kitchen to stand beside your masterpiece. “My days, stop running, (Y/N), it’s just breakfast!”

As Draco entered the kitchen, you held out your hands presenting everything before him. “It’s all your favorites!” you exclaim as Draco just shakes his head. Before you was eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and black coffee; it was simple, but you knew it was his favorite breakfast. 

He walks over to where you stood at the breakfast bar and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you, darling. I appreciate the gesture,” he speaks before kissing you gently, tilting your chin upwards so he can peck your lips. “But this is all the surprises for the day,” he speaks as you groan in protest. “Yes, I insist. My birthday wish is just to spend the day with you. In our flat. Relaxing. Nothing more. Nothing less,” he told you.

In a way, his request sounded really nice. You and Draco have been so busy with your jobs and working and traveling that you hadn’t taken a day in months to just be lazy. Sitting on the couch, maybe reading a good book, listening to music, laying in Draco’s lap...it sounded like a great way to spend the day.

Defeated, you sigh, “Whatever the birthday boy wants, he gets.”

Draco smiles widely, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead. “Brilliant,” he beams. “And another birthday request, don’t call me birthday boy.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine...whatever the birthday prince wants, he gets.” Draco groans as you laugh and take your seat at the breakfast bar. “Oh stop, you know you love it.”

----------------------

For the entirety of the day, you and Draco spent in on the couch, napping in your bed, or dancing in the kitchen. The day was lazy and carefree and effortlessly fun. It reminded you of all of the little reasons why you loved him so much. Draco had gone through so much in his young life and had guarded himself up to the point where he refused to let anyone in. But when those guards came down after you two started dating, it revealed how lively and loving he was. How passionate and kind he could be. How charming and carefree he was. 

But Draco still held onto some traits of his past. He was determined and ambitious. He was strong willed and stubborn when he needed to be. He was painfully loyal to those he cared for and would do whatever he needed to protect them. 

Regardless, you loved Draco something fierce and he loved you with all of his might. 

As the sun started to fade in the western sky, you started to clean up the kitchen from the pizza you had ordered for dinner. You had walked to the sink and placed the dishes delicately to begin washing them, but Draco had wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’ll do the dishes, my love. You’ve already done so much today,” he spoke as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “It’s the least I can do.” You spun around and gave him a gentle smile before kissing the tip of his nose quickly. “Go on,” he spoke with a swift tap on your bum.

While Draco washed the dishes, you scurried off to the bedroom and closed the door behind you. In a flash, you were peeling off your loungewear and raiding your closet to the back corner where you had hid Draco’s final present for the day. Draco had insisted not to get him anything, which you obeyed, but this present was something for the both of you to enjoy.

Lingerie wasn’t something you had purchased avidly in the past, but this was a special day and you wanted to prove to Draco just how special it was. When you had entered in the underwear shoppe, there were a plethora of underwear, teddies, lingerie, bras, and one pieces to chose from. It was a bit overwhelming at first, but you had managed to pick out something that you think Draco would like. But in all honestly, no matter what you wore Draco would love. As long as you were the one wearing them.

You stepped in front of the full body mirror and examined yourself, running your hands down the front of the bodysuit decorated with emerald green lace. The bodysuit left little to the imagination as it pushed your breasts together and up, making them spill out of the cups, hugging your figure deliciously, cut outs revealing your hips and waist. You inhaled deeply and sighed. “Better be worth the pretty penny this cost me,” you spoke to yourself.

From the other room, Draco’s voice calls, “(Y/N)? Where’d ya go?”

“Bedroom!” you call back, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror. You smirked at yourself. Damn, you looked good.

Almost on cue, Draco swung the door upon and immediately stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. His eyes went wide and he smirked. “Bloody hell,” he sighed, rubbing his face as his eyes raked up and down your body. “Well, what do we have here?” he closed the door behind himself and slowly walked towards you.

You stood proudly at the mirror, a small smirk dancing on your lips. “I thought we couldn’t let birthday celebrations end so soon,” you walk towards him, placing your hands on his chest before snaking them around his neck as his hands trail up your sides, the lace dancing underneath his fingertips. “It’s all for you.”

As if Draco couldn’t be more in love with you. He let out a heavy breath as his hands trailed down your bare back before landing on your bottom. “You are all mine,” he corrects you. He takes your chin and forces your gaze on his. His blue eyes are full of lust as his pupils dilate heavily as you gulp. His gaze was enough to drive your mind in circles. “All of this belongs to me.”

Draco doesn’t waste anymore time, connecting his lips with yours as his body presses against yours. You inhale deeply as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. His lips are hot and needy against yours, but he doesn’t let you know how desperate he is to feel you wrapped around his hard cock. Draco takes your bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling gently before slipping his tongue in your mouth, gently massaging his with yours as you whimper into the kiss. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me tonight?” he mumbles in your mouth as you nod excitedly. 

You wanted Draco to use your body however he wanted to tonight. No matter how much you liked being a brat, you wanted him to completely dominate you tonight. You were surrendering to Draco.

As his lips moved against yours, he wasted no time pushing your bodysuit to the side, running a finger in between your heat making you whimper, craving his touch against where you needed him most. “You’re so wet for me already, darling,” he huskily groans with a smirk. “And we’ve only just begun.” His words make you shiver as you attempt to kiss him again, but he pulls back. “Tell me how much you want my cock inside that tight pussy of yours,” he groans.

With a small smirk, you sigh, “How about I show you?”

Draco looks at you a little puzzled, but it’s instantly resolved when you drop to your knees. In one swift motion, you pull down his grey sweatpants and boxers to reveal his stiff member hitting his stomach. You look up at Draco through your eyelashes as you pull your hair back into a ponytail, a small smile dancing on your glossed lips. Lip gloss that would sure cover his hard dick in just moments. “My sexy little slut,” he breathes out before you drag your tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the tip, making Draco throw his back in ecstasy. He hums as you start sucking gently on his tip, swirling your tongue around him, teasingly. “Don’t you dare tease me, you slut,” he groans before you take his whole length sloppily. He hisses through gritted teeth as you grab his thighs, bobbing your head up and down on his massive length, your peach lip gloss rubbing off on his dick. “Such a good whore,” he praises you as you suck on his cock, hands stroking the parts you couldn’t take. “You love sucking on my cock, don’t you?”

You hum against his cock, sending vibrations through him as he moans loudly, grabbing onto your ponytail, pushing his length further down your throat. You lightly choke on his dick, throat tightening around his cock as he groans out in euphoria. It was worth it just to watch the look on his face as you took him like this. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, sucking on his throbbing dick, humming on it, causing him to push your face onto his dick deeper, gently face fucking you. 

Small tears ran down your cheeks as you eyes watered from taking him like this. But you didn’t mind at all, the condition that you had him in right now was enough to make you finish. You bobbed on his dick faster, swirling your tongue around his cock, making him cry out, “Fucking shit, (Y/N). You’re such a fucking slut for my cock.”

His words only made you bob your head faster, focusing on the tip as he shudder, the most sensitive spot making him writhe in pleasure. “I’m gonna fucking come,” he hisses as you suck on his tip, playing with his balls in your hands. 

With a husky groan, you feel his come warm in your mouth, shooting down your throat as you swallow it all, licking up what you missed off of his dick. Draco is left panting, chest heaving up and down as you smirk up at him, wiping your lips with the back of your hand, satisfied with yourself and the brilliant job you’ve done. 

Draco pulls you up to your feet before smashing his lips against your so he can taste himself on your peach flavored lips. His hands roughly grope your ass as you pull his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. “I want you to take me. Now,” you speak as Draco kisses down your neck across your collarbones and to the valley of your breasts.

“Gladly,” he speaks as you attempt to walk towards the bed, but he stops you. “Not there tonight,” he whispers in your ear before he flips you around to face the mirror. “I want you to watch yourself as I fuck the shit out of you,” he tells you as a shiver crawls up your spine. “How does that sound, princess?” he coos, brushing your sloppy ponytail to the side, kissing and nibbling on your neck.

You breathe out, “You better take this stupid fucking bodysuit off of me then.”

Draco chuckles deeply before speaking, “My pleasure.” He pushes the straps down your arms and slides the bodysuit down your skin, falling to the floor. There, you stood in front of the mirror, completely naked in front of your lover and he hungrily feasted his eyes on you. “You’re the most beautiful thing to ever happen on this Earth,” he breathes out before pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder as he kissed you deeply.

His large hands cupped both of your breasts as you moaned into his mouth, his fingers pinching and rubbing your hard nipples. As one hand massaged your breast, the other slithered down your stomach and in between your thighs to where you craved his touch the most. You inhale deeply as one of his slender fingers starts tracing circles against your clit as you knees buckle a little. “We just started, kitten. Don’t give out on me just yet,” he whispers in your ear as he nibbles on it gently. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You moan out, “Please, Dray, I need you.”

Draco smirked against your skin as he rubs on your clit faster, making you gasp. “You need me to what, kitten?” he teasingly asks you as you hold onto his forearms for support to ensure you don’t buckle under his touch.

“To fuck me like you promised,” you breathe out, pressing your back harder into Draco’s bare chest. “I wanna watch you fuck me.”

Your words are a symphony to Draco’s ears, his dick hard again against your thigh. In swift motion, he grabs the chair from your vanity desk and places it in front of you, bending you over so you are looking directly into the mirror. The sight of you bent over the back of a chair, Draco standing behind you, hungrily watching you was enough to make the wetness from your aching pussy drip down the inside of your thighs. Draco pulls a rubber from his nightstand and rolls it onto his thick cock as you gulp. 

Draco stares into your eyes as he leans down to whisper in your ear, his chest pressed flush against your bare back. “Remember, my sex kitten,” he whispers, “I call the shots tonight. I’ll take you however I want to take it. Isn’t that, right?” he purrs as you quiver under his touch, his long finger trailing down your spine before roughly grabbing your bum in his hand. You moan out in response. “Good girl. My good little slut,” he praises you. “Good sluts get rewarded,” he starts. “Today, you’ve been very good for me, haven’t you?”

You nod your head feverishly. “Yessir.”

Draco groans at your words, dragging his latex covered dick in between your folds as you gasp. “That’s my baby,” he moans. “You want to watch me fuck you? You filthy slut,” he speaks, hands now groping your breasts again as you sigh, resting your head on the back of the chair.

But Draco pulls on your ponytail, forcing your gaze back onto the mirror to meet his eyes. “I said you will watch me fuck you,” he demands. “Did I stutter?”

“No sir,” you moan out as he smiles. “I want to watch you fuck me.”

“Atta girl,” he praises before pushing his dick all the way into you as you moan out, Draco hissing at how tight you were wrapped around his cock. “Fuck,” he breathes out. He waits a moment for you to adjust before he slowly starts rocking his hips, thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. 

He is gently panting as he thrusts in and out of you. You grind your backside against him, making him groan out. “Yeah, just like that. Just like that for me, princess,” he praises you as you do it again, pushing your ass on his groin. “Shit,” he groans before he starts to pick up the pace of his thrust, hips smacking against your backside as he takes you from behind. “Look at you. You love the way I fuck you,” he looks deep into your eyes as you watch him in the mirror, taking you the way he wanted against the desk chair.

You hum, “Yessir. You feel so good inside of me.”

Draco pounds in and out of you harder as your mouth falls agape, you panting. “I love the way you feel wrapped around my cock. Your pretty little pussy wrapped around me. I fucking love it. Fuck,” he closes his eyes and throws his head back in pleasure as you grab onto the chair tighter. Draco pushes himself impossibly deeper inside of you, reaching that one part that made your toes curl and knuckles turn white.

“Fuck, Draco!” you scream out, holding onto the chair for dear life. If you didn’t, you would surely buckle from all of the pleasure he had you in. “Right there, baby, don’t stop. Oh, fuck. Please, don’t stop!” you cry out.

Draco keeps his pace, hitting your g-spot as his grip on your hips tighten, sure to leave bruises. “You like that? You like the way I fuck you? My fucking whore,” he groans out as he pounds in and out of you. “Bloody hell, I fucking love you so fucking much, baby,” he breathes, pressing kisses down your spine as you cry out in bursts of pleasure.

“I love you, I love you so much,” you pant in between his thrusts. Draco hand drops down, finding your clit again, sending you over the edge as you throw your head back. You hold onto the chair for dear life, “Fucking shit, baby, I’m gonna come all over you.” Draco keeps railing into you, his dick throbbing at how good you felt. “Come all over me, kitten. I wanna hear you scream my fucking name,” he encourages you. “Come, baby, come, come,” he pants in between his thrusts.

A wave of warmth rushes over you as your pussy throbs, coming all over Draco’s cock and fingers as you scream out his name, throwing your head back in sheer euphoria. Your heart is thumping in your ears as you come down from your high, Draco soon following, releasing in the condom, a string of profanities falling from his parted lips as his eyes screw shut.

The two of you are breathless messes as you remain bent over the chair as Draco pulls out of you and kisses your shoulder blades, rubbing your back gently. “Bloody fucking hell,” he chuckles as you join in, chest heaving for air. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead as he cleans himself up, you peeling yourself off of the chair, your legs feeling like jelly.

Draco smiles as you suck in a breath through your teeth. He hands you your bathrobe as you gladly accept, him draping the soft material on your body. You tie the robe and smile at the glowing man before you. You cup his face in your hands and press a sweet kiss to his lips as he pulls you closer to him, smiling into your tender embrace. “Godric,” you breathe out when you pull away, him laughing. “You still hate birthdays?”

He chuckles, “If every birthday is like this one? I fucking love them.”

[spine-buster]

c a t c h i n g  t h e  l i g h t  |  elias pettersson

Summary: Eleven years into the future, Elias and Svea embark on their next adventure.  They have tackled everything together in life thus far with the other by their side.  Now, it’s time to add someone new.

Word Count: ~13k

A/N: I hope you all enjoy reading this epilogue to Elias and Svea’s story.  This style of small snippet scenes was so fun to write and I hope you like it.  This sort of acts as an update on Brock and Grace’s story 11 years into the future as well!  Regardless, I love these two so much.

CW: difficult birth

                                                             11 years later.                                                                        ___

“I’m ready,” Svea said one night when she and Elias were in the car alone, driving home from the Parkinson’s Foundation of British Columbia Gala that they’d been to every year for almost fifteen years now, hosted by Grace.  They were holding hands across the centre console.  

Elias knew he had to keep his eyes on the road since it was dark outside, but he made sure to look over at his wife.  It was so out of the blue that he knew exactly what she meant.  “You’re ready?” he asked, wanting to make sure he heard correctly.

She squeezed his hand gently as she nodded.  “I’m ready.”

>< >< >< >< ><

“So you guys are trying?” Grace asked as she sipped on her iced coffee in the quaint coffee shop in Yaletown.  She rocked Dukey in his stroller, now almost 18 months old and in his prime chubby glory, though he was already fast asleep and had been since the car ride in.  The kid could sleep, that was for sure.  It was a nice reprieve from all the sleepless nights he cost Grace and Brock at the beginning.

“Officially.  Yes,” Svea nodded her head.  She was already on special prenatal vitamins.  Already off her birth control.  Already monitoring her ovulation cycle.  Already had a checkup with her doctor to make sure everything was in order.  Already having sex with Elias nearly every moment of the day she could fit it in.  Not that either of them complained about that point.  Almost twelve years later of marriage and they were still insatiable for each other.  Elias still joked they had to make up for lost time.  “I’m not a fertile youngin’ like you were but I’m hoping it happens just as fast,” she commented.

Grace nodded her head.  “I’m just a baby-making machine at this point, so ask me any question you want.  You know nothing is off limits with me, or us.”

***

“Fill me up, Elias.  Fill me up with your cum.”

Elias groaned at Svea’s words.  He grabbed her hair and pulled her towards him so her back was flush against his chest, pounding into her at a different angle now as he felt close to his release too.  He licked and bit at the skin of her neck before dragging his lips up to her ear.  “You want my cum, pretty girl?”

“My pussy needs your hot cum, Elias.  Please.  Please.  Fuck me deep.  Fuck a baby into me.”

He snaked an arm around to her hot core and began rubbing at her clit, and after a few frenzied gasps and moans, Svea felt him explode inside of her, filling her up like she so craved and making her feel the greatest pleasure she had ever known.  Her orgasm coursed throughout her whole body and made her knees weak – literally – as they slipped further and further apart.  She would have almost fell back down face first onto the mattress if it wasn’t for Elias holding her up and letting her fall back onto his body instead.  As they lay on their bed catching their breaths, his cock was still inside her as it softened.  “Happy birthday, Elias,” she mumbled as she kissed him.  This was only round two, and they were planning to go all night.

***

“Are you serious?  You just went to the washroom like fifteen minutes ago,” Brock pestered Svea playfully as she stuck her tongue out at him, quickly walking into the washroom at the mall.

Elias was looking down at his phone.  Pregnancy symptoms, he’d googled.

Increased urination. You might find yourself urinating more often than usual. The amount of blood in your body increases during pregnancy, causing your kidneys to process extra fluid that ends up in your bladder.

***

“Svea, you love isterband!  You can’t get enough of it!” Elias protested.

“Did we get a bad batch?  It smells heinous.”

“It smells delicious!” he protested.  What she was saying was unbelievable to him.  Usually, she had to be told to stop eating the delicious Swedish style sausage, especially when they were back in Ånge or Sundsvall having it, and especially when it was a homemade variety.  But now she was making gagging noises.  

“I’m gonna go to our room until it’s done,” she said as she got up from her seat at the dining table.  Immediately, Stella got up and followed her.  “Call me when it’s ready.  Hopefully it will smell less heinous by then.”

Elias watched her and Stella walk away.  He took out his phone again and opened up the internet, still on the same tab from more than a week ago at the mall with Brock and Grace.

Food aversions. When you're pregnant, you might become more sensitive to certain odors and your sense of taste might change. Like most other symptoms of pregnancy, these food preferences can be chalked up to hormonal changes.

“Sveeeeeaaaaa!” he called out.

***

Svea was holding Elias.

She let him cry.  It was important to let him cry.  

His face was nestled onto her stomach, and had been there for at least fifteen minutes.  His arms were wrapped around her.  Every so often, she’d feel him move to kiss her bare skin, and she’d be able to feel the wetness from his tear-stained cheeks.  

“I’m so happy,” he mumbled.  He’d been saying that since they got home from the doctor’s office, but there was something about this time, right now, that made Svea’s heart swell a thousand times its size.  His tone, the softness, the tears, the position – everything was working in a way that made her so emotional.  “I’m so, so happy,” he repeated.

“Me too,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair slightly.

“I’m going to be a dad,” he said.  He looked her in the eye.  “I’m going to be a dad and you’re going to be a mom.”

She nodded slowly.  

***

“So all the fucking worked, then,” Grace winked from the sink.

“You’re so crass,” Svea giggled as Dukey screamed at her for more food.  He already had a grape in each chubby hand and was eyeing the scrambled eggs on Svea’s spoon like it was a filet mignon.  She brought it towards him and he opened his mouth easily to eat it.  “But yes, it all worked.”

“I mean, you guys fuck all the time so I wouldn’t be surprised.  You guys still fuck like you’re in your twenties.”

“You’re really comfortable saying the f-word in front of your 18 month old.”

“He doesn’t understand words yet,” Grace dismissed her quickly, causing Svea to snort.

“And who are you to call me out?  Clearly you and Brock still fuck like you’re in your twenties too,” Svea whispered the word fuck, referring to Grace and Brock’s giant brood.  

“Are you guys going to find out what you’re having?” Grace asked.

Svea shook her head.  “We both want it to be a surprise.”

“It’s more fun that way,” Grace agreed.  “I’m betting on a boy.”

***

“Can you see it?” Svea asked as she looked at herself in the mirror, her body in a fitted dress.  She switched to a side profile to see if she could see her bump better.  It was small, and barely noticeable, but it was there.

“I can,” Elias nodded, coming up behind her.

“Do you think other people will see it?” she asked.  “I want to show it off.”

Elias smiled.  “Show it off?” he asked.  

Svea nodded.  “Grace said she think I’m going to be all belly – you know, like one of those women who just grows out instead of, like, around.  I waited so long to have one.  Now that I do, I want everyone to know.”

Elias’s smile overtook his face.  

***

“Look at you!” Grace winked as Svea approached her, her bump styled in a tight dress that showed off the small but noticeable curve forming.  “Work it, Svea!”  Svea danced a little bit, boogieing from side to side as Grace began to do the same.  Elias and Brock rolled their eyes at each other but smiled, too, their wives completely ignoring them at this point.  “I was right, too!  You’re all bump!” Grace exclaimed.

“For now,” Svea smiled.  “I feel wider.”

“You don’t look it, but it doesn’t matter.  Get as wide and as big as you want, woman.  You’re pregnant with a baby.”

“And ask Petey to go and get you cans of tuna in olive oil at 2:30 in the morning,” Brock quipped.  Grace shot him a look.  “Five times,” he added for dramatic effect.

***

“You want some, Elias?” Svea asked as she stuffed a spoonful of strawberry flavoured frozen yogurt into her mouth.

“I’m okay,” he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.  “You have what you want.”

“You sure?”

Elias nodded.  He looked over at the clock – 3:00 in the morning.  He had a practice tomorrow and she had work.  But she had to have some strawberry frozen yogurt.  She just had to.  She needed it.  Which is why Elias put on his winter jacket and a pair of shoes – but kept his pajama pants on – at 2:30 in the morning and made his way to their local 24-hour supermarket, buying her favourite frozen yogurt so she could eat it.  It was all worth it, now that she was digging into it – sitting cross-legged on the bed, belly showing through her pajama shirt, eyes rolling to the back of her head every time she ate a spoonful.  Now he realized what Brock meant.  “It’s okay, pretty girl.”

“Just one spoon,” she said, already scooping it.  She held it out to him and he smiled before he ate the spoonful.  “Is it good?” she asked.

He nodded.  “It’s better at three in the morning.”

She couldn’t help but giggle.  She had the best husband.  She wasn’t sure if others would have gone and gotten her frozen yogurt in the middle of the night.  “I love you, Elias.”

“I love you too.  Now give me another spoonful.”

***

“I love your cock so much Elias, fuck,” Svea sighed out.

He was much gentler these days.  They both were.  The doctor said it was completely safe and healthy but Elias was still…cautious.  But when Svea woke up that morning placing small kisses on his shoulder, and then reached over and slipped her hand down his pajama pants, he couldn’t help himself.  So he flipped around to face her, and they kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and he teased her already wet pussy with his fingers, and he hooked her leg over his torso and slipped into her easily, the both of them sighing, the both of them savouring the intimacy.

“Does it feel good?” he asked.  She nodded quietly.  “Does it feel different?”

“A little bit,” she nodded again, biting her bottom lip.  “But a good different.”

Elias thrust harder.  Svea let out a gasp.  “I could bury my cock in your pussy all day,” he huffed out.

That made Svea smirk.  “I’d let you.”

***

“You have to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.”

“Well, you have to be.”

“You’ve been feeling them for a week now!  I haven’t!”

“Just.  Be.  Patient.”

“But Svea—”

“Elias—”

They both stopped the second they felt it.  It happened right where Elias’s hand rested on her growing belly.  He almost couldn’t believe it happened at first, because to him, the feeling was so new.  But when he realized what had just happened, and the magnitude of it, he looked up at Svea.  She was already smiling.  “Did you feel that?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Poke where they just kicked.  Trust me.”

Elias did as he was told.  He poked.  And poked again.  Then he placed his hand on the spot.

He felt another kick.

Svea could hear a sharp intake of breath.  When she looked at him next, he was already looking at her with tears welled in his eyes.  “Svea…” he managed to get out, his voice cracking.

“I know, Elias.  I know.”

A tear fell down his face.

***

“Svea, can I touch your belly?” Violet Boeser looked up at Svea, swaying her dress from side to side.

“Me too!” Rose Boeser joined in.

“Me three!” Lily Boeser pushed her sister to the side.  

“Me four!” Poppy Boeser squeezed her way in.  “Svea can I feel the baby?”

“Be gentle!” Grace called out from the picnic table.  In the distance, Brock and Elias were barbecuing the hamburgers and hot dogs.  Coolie, Milo, and Stella were all sunbathing near the barbecue.  “Svea isn’t a science experiment!”

Svea snorted.  “Yes girls, you can all feel the baby,” she smiled.  Immediately, each of the girls’ hands covered her bump.  Rose even put her head against her bump briefly.  “The baby isn’t kicking right now but they might soon now that they feel all your hands,” Svea said.

“Are you having a boy or a girl?” Violet asked.

“I don’t know yet, Violet!  It’s going to be a surprise.”

“Baaaaaaaa!” Dukey Boeser yelled from the picnic table.  Once Grace set him down, he ran over to Svea as well, not wanting to feel left out now that his four older sisters were doing something he wasn’t.  He put his tiny hands on top of Poppy’s and looked up at Svea.  “Baaaaaa!  Ba ba baby!”

“Yes!  There’s a baby!” Svea grinned.

“And I’m gonna babysit!” Violet said.

“Me too!” Rose followed.

“Me three!” Lily joined.

“Me four!” Poppy finished it out, like she always did.

***

“Your placenta is a bit low, but it’s nothing to worry about,” the doctor said as she looked at Svea.  “Have you been feeling any changes lately?”

“A lot more fatigue, to be honest,” Svea confessed.  “I push through it because I’m still working, but when I get home I, like, barely move.”

The doctor nodded his head.  “That’s normal.  Fatigue in the second trimester is common.  We’ll continue to monitor symptoms and monitor your placenta but it shouldn’t be a problem.  But if symptoms get any worse, we’ll put you on bedrest.”

“Bedrest?”

“Bedrest.  For your health.  And the health of the baby.”

***

“Should we start thinking about names?” Svea asked as she lay on the couch, her head in Elias’s lap as he ran his fingers through her hair.  Stella was sleeping in between her legs, letting out soft snores.  “Do we want super-Swedish or super…something else?”

“This is going to be the hardest part, I think,” Elias commented before offering any suggestions.  “I think something that translates well into both languages is best, don’t you think?”

Svea nodded her head.  Whereas Fanny and Emil chose pretty traditional Swedish sounding names for their three boys, she knew they’d have to go the “translatable” route because of their Canadian/Swedish lifestyle.  “Do you like Linnea?” she asked.

“I do, but I think it’s too popular in Sweden.  I want something nice but something that stands out.  There will be five other Linnea’s in her class,” Elias mused.

“So that’s Milo down the drain too, then…” Svea giggled slightly.  “What about Freya?”

“Too…mythological.”

“Ivar?”

“No.”

“What about Astrid?  I was going to be named Astrid, you know.”

Elias nodded.  “I like Astrid.  Astrid is good.  Do you like Oskar?”

Svea nodded.  “What about Erland, like your grandpa?”

“That’s a good middle name.”

***

Babysitting Violet, Rose, Lily, Poppy, and Dukey was good practice for Elias and Svea.  They’d been doing it, really, since Violet was born, and then when Rose was added, and Lily was added, and Poppy was added, and Dukey was added…well, it all just became routine.  The girls were great, and they put frilly headbands on Elias and did his makeup more times than they could count now.  His favourite look was the blue and green eyeshadow they’d created, stolen from mommy’s collection in her room.  The Canucks colours, obviously.  He’d even posted the finished product on Instagram.

The girls also never had any trouble with bedtime, even when they were much smaller.  But nowadays, Dukey did.  Entering his “terrible twos” was proving to be quite the interesting time.  But with the girls already in bed, it was easy for Elias and Svea to deal with him separately.  

After tiring him out, Elias tried rocking him to get him to fall asleep, but he was still fussy.  He kept reaching out to Svea.  So Elias transferred him over, and Svea held him in her arms.  “Whatsa matter?” she asked him in a sweet voice.  “Does Dukey want to fall asleep?”

He fussed around for a bit more before settling down, laying his head on Svea’s shoulder.  He was looking down, his face in a pout.  “Baby,” he said, pointing lazily down to her bump.  “Baby.”

“Yes, there’s a baby,” Svea cooed, rubbing his back.  His eyes almost immediately began to droop.  “But Dukey is a big boy now.”

“Yaaaaa.  Dukey big boy.”

Elias watched as she continued to rub his back and coo sweet words to him as Dukey fell asleep in her arms.  His hands were almost shaking, thinking about how in a few short months, they’d be doing the same thing for their own child.  

***

Midsommar.  Svea’s favourite time of year.

And now time for an impromptu baby shower.  

Elias’s family tradition of renting a big tent on the lake was still going strong, and now, with so many new cousins and family members, the party was bigger and better than ever.  Svea’s family and Elias’s family decided to incorporate a small celebration for the impending baby.

With her flower crown adorned on her head and some special gifts already opened, Elias sat down beside his wife and held her hand underneath the table.  “Remember when we were young?  What you did to me on the banks of the lake?”

She side eyed him.  “Don’t even think about it.”

***

“Give me your hands, Svea, fuck,” Elias moaned as he watched her rock back and forth on top of him.  She did as she was told, grabbing his hands to brace against so she could keep doing what she was doing.  As she rocked herself back and forth, getting closer and closer to her climax, she tightened her grip on his hands.  “Does it feel good, pretty girl?”

Svea nodded.  “D’you still like what you see?”

“Always Svea.  Always.”

***

Grace had gone all out.  She was the perfect person to host Svea’s Vancouver baby shower when she returned from Sweden almost double the size from when she left.  She’d invited the Canucks wives and girlfriends to her house.  She’d had her sunroom and backyard decorated in the most adorable Peter Rabbit themed décor.  Stella was dressed up with rabbit ears.  She’d even thought of the cutest, most perfect party favours – mini champagne bottles with “She’s About to Pop!” adorned on it.  And not the cheap champagne bottles, either.  This was Grace.

Too bad Svea couldn’t have any.

Svea usually didn’t like being the centre of attention, but she was having the best time being the centre of attention at her baby shower.  She opened her gifts, she played the games, she laughed her head off at the game where the girls had to measure her girth.  

After pictures with the guests, Svea sat down in her chair.  “This was the cutest baby shower,” Holly Horvat commented to her, nibbling on the last bit of her cupcake.  “But you know what?”

“What?”

“Remember that movie Bridesmaids?  Remember how they had puppies as the party favours?”

Svea giggled.  “Yeah.”

“Grace should have gotten us all cute little bunnies.”

***

“So the rumours are true.  You’re pregnant.”

Svea looked up from her phone to see Trevor waiting down the bar for his coffee, staring right at her as she finished telling the barista her order.  From behind her, one of her co-workers muttered an ‘Ew’ at the sight of him.  With good reason, since Trevor was Svea’s political arch-enemy.  They came up in the political world at the same time, got promotions around the same time, and were forced to work in conjunction with one another – but never actually together.  And they never got along, ever.

“Yes.  I am,” Svea nodded her head once.  “Fancy seeing you here, by the way.  Isn’t your office on the other side of town?”

“We travel all over the city,” he said.  His smarmy smile made her blood boil.  He grabbed his coffee and made his way towards her.  “Congratulations, by the way.  I wish Elias a lot of luck.  He’s going to need it.”

“Just like you after we decimated you in the election, I assume.”

His smarmy smile left his face.  

***

The Boeser girls got so excited by the flashing lights in the arena, the season opener in full swing.  They were clapping and screaming and jumping around on their jerseys as the announcer began to announce the team, knowing that their dad would be near the beginning because of his number six.

“At number six, Brrrrrroooock, Booooeeeseeerrr!” the announcer roared, the crowd roaring as well as the girls screamed at the top of their lungs for their dad.  Dukey was clapping too, balanced on Grace’s hip and in his own little jersey.  Svea couldn’t help but smile.  

Eventually, when they got to Elias, she knew the camera would pan to her.  A member of the press corps had seen her earlier.  And while she and Elias never made a formal announcement on Instagram or anywhere else in terms of her pregnancy, it was now out in the open – especially since that reporter asked about it during the media scrum earlier that day.  “Your wife Svea is pregnant now; is the focus at the beginning of this season for you on hockey or on the things happening at home?”  

The audacity of that question being asked made her head spin.

Lily had already wrapped her arms around Svea’s legs, and like clockwork, they were shown on the jumbotron clapping.  At that point, the 20,000-plus fans in the arena could see she was seven months pregnant.  The bump protruded through the jersey.  And when the fans realized, they got noticeably louder.  Like, louder louder.  Cheering, whistling, smiling – so much so it sent shivers down Svea’s spine.  

She smiled from ear to ear.

***

“Happy birthday, my beautiful wife,” Elias mumbled against Svea’s lips.  He’d been kissing her, slow and sensual, but also quick and fast – every type of kiss, really – for the last fifteen minutes.  He’d just made her a homemade dinner, and now he was ready for, uh, dessert.  

“This time next year I’ll be a mom to a ten-month-old,” she mused.

Elias smiled.  “It feels like just yesterday that we surprised Grace and Brock,” he said.  

“It’s been twelve years.”

“Still feels like yesterday,” Elias kissed her again.  “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

***

“I think it’s cutting it too close,” Elias mused as they lay in bed together, Svea’s bump widening the distance between them.  

“Elias, I’m only thirty-six weeks,” Svea rationalized.  “My mom carried Sigrid to almost 42 weeks and me right to 40.  This baby isn’t coming out anytime soon.”

“But you’ve…grown so much in the last few weeks,” he said, laying a hand on the bump.  “And you’ve been so tired, and the doctor’s appointments have to be weekly because of that and I just don’t—”

“Elias—”

“It’s fifteen days, Svea.  I’ll just let them know it’s too close.”

“Elias,” Svea said sternly.  “You’re going to the East Coast and that’s that.  You’re going to get back and we’re going to celebrate your birthday and then we’re going to have this baby.  In that order.”

***

If you looked, if you really looked at the video, you could see Elias being called off the bench at the beginning of the third period.  

The announcers mentioned it after the fact.  And when play stopped about two minutes later, they were able to show the replay.  They went through some major points of his shift, spoke about how good it was, and then showed how he skated back to the bench and sat down.  About fifteen seconds later, someone came barreling through the tunnel and was screaming Elias’s name, waving him over to get off the bench.  Elias complied.  The analysts wondered – there was no hit, no scuffle, no trip, no high stick, no fall, seemingly no injury, no penalty at all or anything even worth a penalty during the play, and a perfectly healthy Elias Pettersson was being rushed off the bench?  What was going on?

The camera stayed on Elias speaking to the man in the tunnel.  Nobody could lip read but everybody could see Elias run down the tunnel once the man spoke.

“What’s wrong?  What’s going on?”

“You need to get back to Vancouver.  It’s Svea.  She’s been rushed to the hospital and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

He was a six hour flight away in Florida.  

***

There was blood everywhere.  All over their bed.  All over their sheets.  

Svea called an ambulance.  She called Grace screaming and wailing into the phone.  She called her mom in Sweden crying.  The pain was almost too much.  The contractions were too.  When the paramedics came, she was loaded into an ambulance and rushed to the hospital.  “My husband.  You need to call my husband.  He’s in Florida playing hockey.  He needs to be here.  He—He—the baby—the baby—the baby—”

***

It was the worst six hours of Elias’s life.  Eight hours really, from leaving the rink to getting off the plane and rushing to the hospital.  Grace called in the last minutes before the flight took off to update him.  Svea had placenta previa.  That’s why there was so much spontaneous blood loss.  The doctors had stopped the bleeding, but she’d needed a blood transfusion.  It went fine.  But now she was in labour.  At 37 weeks.

“It’ll have to be a c-section,” Grace explained.  “There was too much blood loss and too big a risk for more blood loss for a vaginal birth like Svea wanted.  And I don’t – Petey – she will probably need a hysterectomy.”

“Hysta-what?  What’s that?”

“They’re going to have to remove her uterus, Petey.  This baby is going to be your only baby.”

***

Elias rushed to put on the scrubs provided by the nurses.  He rushed to get back into the delivery room knowing that Svea had already had a blood transfusion.  He rushed to be in the room to watch the doctor operate – literally operate on his wife – so that Svea could deliver the baby safely and have her hysterectomy.

***

Margot Pettersson.

They named her Margot Pettersson.

After all the blood, the fear, the frantic phone calls, the six-hour flight, the surgery, the operation – Margot was here.  And she was healthy.  

It took everything within Elias not to break down crying as he held her in his arms and lay in the hospital bed with Svea, who was recovering well considering the trauma and how much blood she lost.  They couldn’t take their eyes off their daughter.  She was perfect in every way, from the blonde hair on her head to her tiny, tiny, tiny little toes.  

She was finally here.  

***

It was a few days later when Svea felt confident enough to be in a photo – she didn’t “look like death” anymore, as she put it.  Elias sent it to his teammates.  He was on some brief phone calls with the powers that be on the Canucks for a statement and for some time off.  

When he rejoined Svea in their hospital room as she fed Margot, he sat on the bed and wrapped an arm around his girls.  “The bed,” she said suddenly, looking at him.  “We have to buy a new bed.  I can’t sleep in that bed anymore.  All I’ll see is blood.”

“Grace and Brock already took care of it,” he said.  “Everything is going to be fine when we get back home.  I promise.”

***

The Vancouver Canucks organization would like to extend their congratulations to Elias and Svea Pettersson on the birth of their daughter, Margot.  Mrs. Pettersson continues to recover in the hospital.  Elias will be a healthy scratch for the next four games to ensure the health and well-being of his family.  

***

Svea was on bed rest in their new bed, Stella’s snout resting on her post-partum belly.  Elias never wanted to let go of Margot unless it was to put her back in Svea’s arms.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, either.  Even when Svea was breastfeeding.  He found it to be the most beautiful thing in the world, watching his wife, who he loved so much, feeding and nourishing his daughter, who he loved so much.

He cuddled with them, snuggling into Svea’s side as he watched Margot.  The little sounds she was making brought a smile to his face.  He brought his hand up and caressed her head gently, the blonde hair atop her head perfectly combed.  

“I finally have boobs now,” Svea whispered.

Elias snorted and Svea had a cheeky smile on his face.  “I’ve always loved your boobs.  Big or small.”

“Hmm, don’t I know it,” she hummed, giving him another kiss.  She looked down at her daughter.  “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“In every way.”

***

Elias’s birthday was much quieter this year.  Well, quieter in the sense that there weren’t any friends in his house; quieter in the sense that he wasn’t at some hip restaurant downtown eating an incredibly expensive steak while sipping on an incredibly expensive glass of wine while he wore an incredibly expensive outfit and an incredibly expensive watch, watching his beautiful and sexy wife in an incredibly expensive dress sip sultrily on an incredibly expensive glass of wine as she eyed him up and grazed his leg with her heel under the table.  

But this was still his favourite birthday ever.

Sitting on the couch, a warm bottle of pumped breastmilk in his hands, feeding his eight-day-old daughter.

His life was perfect.

***

“She looks like Petey,” Brock said as he held a swaddled Margot in his arms.  

“They have to biologically, you know,” Grace jumped in.  “But my god you two, her eyes are so damn blue.  I mean I know that’s the Swedish thing and all, but they’re sooo blue.”

“I know,” Elias smiled.  “Even the doctor mentioned it during one of her checkups.  She’ll have a beautiful set of eyes, that’s for sure.  Just like her mom.”

Svea swooned.  She watched as Brock craned his neck down and placed a quick kiss atop Margot’s head.  “Getting baby fever again, Brock?” she winked at him.

“No no no, five is plenty,” he chuckled.  “I just love that newborn baby smell.”

Svea, Elias, and Grace let out the all-knowing “Oooooh” sound in agreement.  “You’re so right, babe,” Grace nodded.  “It’s the best smell in the world.”

***

“God, I missed this,” Svea said as she took a huge gulp of crisp, clean Vancouver air.  It was her first time outside with Stella in weeks, now that she was off bedrest and fully recovered from her c-section and hysterectomy.  Her doctor had okayed light physical activity, so she’d invited Grace and Dukey over for a short walk around the neighbourhood.  Grace had obviously agreed, and had brought Coolie and Milo along.  

“Me too.  You’ll be back running and doing yoga in no time,” Grace said, remembering some of their jaunts over the years where Grace would bring out Violet, or Rose, or Lily, or Poppy on walks or runs in their strollers too.  When she finished strapping Duke in, and made sure he had his snacks, she rose to her feet.  “You feel good?”

Svea nodded.  “We just have to go slow.  And I can do maximum half an hour.”

“I’ll go as slow as you want me to,” Grace said.  She peeked into Margot’s stroller and noticed she was already asleep.  Her son, on the other hand, was screaming about his grapes.  “Let’s hope Dukey’s grapes last the entire time.”

***

Did Elias and Svea go all out for Margot’s first Christmas?  Yes.

Did Svea dress her up in a red dress, green shoes, frilly headband, and reindeer antlers?  Yes.

Did Svea dress her up in an elf outfit, complete with curled shoes?  Yes.

Was there a portrait with the new family and Santa Claus?  Yes.

Did Elias and Svea send the pictures to their family members, co-workers, and every teammate?  Yes.

Did it get leaked to the media?  Yes.

***

“She’s gonna start her chubby phase soon,” Brock said as he held Margot in his arms, feeding her with a bottle, as Elias sautéed some mushrooms on a skillet as part of their lunch.  “She’s eighteen weeks now?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the best,” Brock said.  “They got so chunky.  So squishy.  I swear I went crazy for every one of them.”

“Margot was born at 37 weeks though.  We might have to wait a little bit longer.”

“Well, call me the second you start noticing chunk,” Brock said.  “I’ll be over here in a heartbeat.”

***

“There was a lot of blood.”

Elias held Svea in his arms as they lay down in bed together after one of Margot’s middle-of-the-night feedings.  Margot had been really fussy and took a while to be put down and fall asleep again; Svea had been unable to go back to sleep herself once she was in bed, tossing and turning and not even being able to keep her eyes closed.  Even Elias’s cuddling wasn’t helping, which meant something was on her mind and keeping her restless.  So he’d asked her what was wrong.

And that’s what she responded with.

He knew immediately what she meant.  Ever since that day, when he was called off the bench and rushed back to Vancouver, he’d beaten himself up for not being there, as a husband should have been for his wife, as she went through such a traumatic event.  It traumatized him, but that didn’t even take into consideration how much it traumatized her.  That’s what really mattered here.  She still had to deal with it.  She still had to see it in her mind when she closed her eyes.  She had the memory, not him.  

It killed Elias inside knowing Svea had to carry that burden with her.  

“You were so strong, though.  And your strength gave us our daughter,” he said.

Svea nodded slightly before she looked at her husband.  “Were you scared?  When they told you, I mean.  When you were rushed off the bench.”

Elias nodded his head immediately.  “I was terrified.”

“Of what?”

“That I was going to lose you and the baby,” he admitted.  “Were you scared?”

“I was,” Svea said.  “Do you…are…are you angry we can only have one?”

“Why would I be angry?” he was beside himself at her question.

“I don’t know.  I just…are you angry we didn’t have a boy?  Or that we can’t have a son in the future?  Or another daughter?  Are you angry I wasn’t healthy enough to—”

“Stop it right now,” he ordered.  Tears were falling down his face at her words.  “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted and needed in my life.  Do you understand me?  Everything.”

Svea was crying now too.  “You’ve just been so good to me, Elias.  I want to give you everything too, like you always give me.”

“You already have,” he whispered, kissing her, feeling her tear-stained cheeks on his.

***

“You want to hold the baby, Violet?” Svea asked quietly as the Boeser girls looked at tiny Margot resting in Svea’s arms.  Violet nodded her head desperately and outstretched her hands automatically.  “You have to sit on the couch, baby girl,” Svea said, and Violet did as she was told.

Svea extended her arms and passed Margot to her slowly.  ��Put your arm up,” she said.  “You have to support her head.”  Violet nodded.  Margot fussed a little bit, but once she was in Violet’s arms, she stopped.

Violet smiled.  “Hello Margot,” she said in a soft voice, smiling.  

“Hello Margot,” Rose mimicked in the same voice.

“Hello Margot,” Lily mimicked in the same voice.

“Hello Margot,” Poppy mimicked in the same voice.

All at the same time, the girls leaned forward and placed light kisses onto Margot’s face.

Svea couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

***

“Look at my beautiful baby girl,” Elias cooed as he finished changing Margot’s diaper, buttoning up her little onesie as she wiggled on the change table, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.  “Hällo Margot!  Hällo!”

She gurgled happily.  Elias chuckled as he finished the last of the buttons, eventually scooping her up in his arms carefully and holding her against his chest.  She settled in quickly, calming herself down as Elias walked from her nursery to his bedroom.  Just as he walked in, Svea walked out of their ensuite bathroom with a robe on, drying her hair with a towel.  When she saw her husband and daughter, she smiled automatically.  

“Hello my loves,” she whispered, approaching them slowly.  At the sight of Svea, Margot gurgled happily again, even waving her arms up and down once excitedly.  “Hello Margot!  Hello my beautiful baby!”

“Beautiful baby had a stinky diaper this morning,” Elias griped jokingly.  

Svea laughed, placing a light kiss on top of Svea’s head.  “Making daddy change the stinky ones?  Good baby.”

***

Margot’s first game, after she got all of her appropriate vaccinations, was against the Toronto Maple Leafs.  Elias and Svea made sure to go to the arena early so that his teammates could see her before the game.  Even Elias’s friend William Nylander from the Leafs was able to pop over and congratulate the couple.  Svea appreciated the gesture, since she knew how busy he was.  

“Oh my Gooooooddddd,” Holly cooed as she saw Margot dressed up in a little Vancouver Canucks jersey.  “The baby jersey!  The baby jersey!  Can Gunnar be this small again?!”

Svea laughed as Holly clutched at her heart.  Bo smiled from ear to ear when he noticed, too.  “She’s adorable, Svea.”

“Thanks, Bo.”

“Bo, remember when Gunnar was that small?” Holly asked her husband.  She then wrapped her arms around his one arm, looking up at him sweetly.  “Can we have another one, Bo?  Please?”

“Holly.”

***

Svea hauled some of the grocery bags – the lighter ones, at least – inside the house.  She would leave the other ones for Elias.  He’d probably get angry that she brought in the light groceries, anyway.  He always brought things in – ever since her surgery, at least.  But she was feeling almost back to normal now, and she wanted to start contributing more again.

“Elias?” she called out.  No answer.  She set the grocery bags down in the laundry room and made her way into their house.  “Elias?” she called out again. 

It was only then when he heard loud, screaming giggles coming from the family room.  Following the giggles, Svea heard the sound of raspberries being blown against skin, and an orchestra of loud, happy giggles again, this time from both Margot and Elias.

She smiled to herself.  As she walked further into the house, turning a corner, she looked into the family room to find Elias on his knees in front of the couch, Margot on the cushion in between his arms in just a diaper, and him blowing raspberries on her tummy.  Margot was laughing and wiggling in pure happiness.  And when Svea’s presence caught Elias’s eye, he looked up.  “Hey baby,” he smiled, before diving in one more time to blow raspberries.

Svea’s heart swelled.

***

“You and Elias deserve a nice Valentine’s Day date,” Grace said before taking a sip of her water.  “How about Brock and I watch Margot for the night and you two go out for a nice dinner?”

Svea loved the idea, but she was still a bit apprehensive.  It would be the first night away from Margot.  And though she trusted Brock and Grace more than anyone else in Vancouver with Margot, it would still be a lot for her, at least mentally.  She assumed it would be the same for Elias.  “I’ll mention it to Elias, and we’ll think about it,” she said.

Grace eyed her.  “Don’t think about it, just do it.  I know it’s hard to think about, but time away from the baby will do you both some good.  It’s necessary.  It’s healthy.  It’s hard but it’s healthy.”

***

“This steak is delectable,” Svea commented as she forked another slice of her filet into her mouth.  

Elias nodded from across the table.  “The wine, too.  It was a good choice,” he said before he took a sip.  He looked lovingly at his wife and smiled before he set his wine glass down.  “D’you miss Margot like I do?”

Svea giggled and nodded her head.  “I do.  But I’m enjoying our Valentine’s Day date,” she said.  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.”

“Me neither,” he reached across the table to grab her hand.

***

Elias and Stella walked into the bedroom quietly, Elias holding mugs of tea in both hands.  He saw Svea sitting up, looking down peacefully at Margot whom she was breastfeeding.  Svea grabbed the mug from Elias and took a quick sip before setting it down on the nightstand.  Elias climbed into the bed, Stella following, and nestled in close with his two girls, gently stroking Margot’s blonde hair.  

“Thank you for the tea,” Svea said softly, looking at him before pursing her lips slightly, signaling she wanted a kiss.  

Elias gave her one easily.  His lips lingered on hers, giving her small, quick kisses.  “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted,” he whispered huskily.  “The least I could do is bring you tea.”

“Hmmm,” Svea hummed happily.  “Can I suggest some other things you can do tonight?”

Elias smirked.

***

“Look here little Margot!  Look here!” the photographer cooed as her assistant jingled some bells to get the attention of the baby, dressed up in the cutest little dress and tights.  Margot babbled slightly and smiled at the noise.  Elias could hear the shutter of the camera go off like crazy.

“Her eyes are showing up spectacularly on camera,” the photographer commented.  “What a beautiful colour they are.”

Elias and Svea continued to smile throughout the photoshoot.  Then, when they had to take a break, they changed Margot into a different outfit and went outside to take some more pictures.  After a second break, they changed Margot into her last outfit before going to their bedroom and finishing the photoshoot.  

“The photos should be ready for you in a few weeks, after editing,” the photographer said as she packed away her equipment.  By this point, Margot was fast asleep on Elias’s shoulder, her chubby cheeks amplified.  “She’s a cutie, you guys.  I mean, just adorable.”

Elias smiled, placing a soft kiss atop Margot’s head.  “She’s my little princess.”

***

At a cute little café in Yaletown, Svea pushed her stroller back and forth to rock Margot to sleep.  Svea hadn’t gotten any sleep last night thanks to her daughter, and Elias being away on a road trip didn’t help matters.  Svea knew babies went through sleep regression – Margot had been a fantastic sleeper, save for the last two weeks – but she wondered how long this would last.  She was trying everything she could, but Margot wasn’t sleeping.

When Grace arrived without any of her kids in tow, looking especially stylish with a cute hat and thigh-high boots, Svea waved her down.  Grace waved back and waited in line to order her coffee.  

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Grace commented as she set her coffee down on the table and sat in the seat opposite Svea.

“That’s because I haven’t,” Svea admitted.  She hadn’t even bothered to put on makeup this morning.  “Margot kept me up all night.  She was so fussy, Grace.”

Grace furrowed her brows.  “Do you have milk with you?” she asked.

Svea nodded.  “Of course I do.  In the bag.”

Grace nodded, getting up from her seat.  “Come on.  We’re going home.”

“Wait—what—”

“We’re going back to my house, and you’re sleeping, and I’ll watch and feed Margot.”

Svea could cry.

***

“Look.  At.  The.  CHUNK!!!!!” Brock practically screamed as he looked over Elias’s shoulder as Elias finished putting a new diaper on Margot, who was wiggling happily and cooing at seeing Brock’s face over her dad’s shoulder.  “Look at you!  Look at your chunk!  Look at it!” Brock kept repeating.

“Brock—”

“What’re you gonna do with all these rolls?  What’re you gonna do with all these rolls?!”

“Brock—”

“You gonna open a bakery?  You gonna open up a bakery with all these rolls?”

“BROCK!”

“WHAT?!”

“Get me her blanket!”

Brock moved to the side and reached over to get the soft blanket he knew Elias wanted.  “You don’t have to be so mean,” he grumbled at his best friend.

***

“Look, Svea!  Look!  Look!” Elias’s voice was frantic as he called Svea over from the kitchen.  He could hear her footsteps as she rushed over to the family room.  “Look!”

Svea looked at Elias on his stomach on the floor, a few feet away from Margot who was also on her tummy.  She’d hit the traditional milestone of rolling over a bit early – four months in, instead of five – and now, at just over six months old, Svea watched as Margot started creeping along the floor, moving closer and closer to her dad as he kept wiggling further and further away.  

“Eeeeeeh!” she would cry out in complaint of her seemingly not getting closer to her dad.  “Eeeeeh!”

“Come on Margot!  Just a little bit more!” Elias smiled wide.

She creeped some more, and when she was finally close enough, Elias began peppering her face with kisses.  She giggled at the feeling and screeched with happiness when he picked her up and held her in his arms.  “Baby’s on the move,” he smiled at Svea.

She nodded her head.  “We’re not gonna be able to sit down anymore.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” Svea asked playfully as she watched Margot crawl along the hardwood floor of the kitchen.  Her chunky rolls filled out her avocado-printed onesie she was wearing as she made a beeline for the sunlight coming through the sliding door.  

“Aaaaaeeeeeeee!” Margot squeaked at the sound of her mother’s voice, looking back.

“Where are you going?” Svea asked.  

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa!”

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa!” Svea mimicked, knowing she should be mimicking the sounds for Margot’s development.  She grabbed her phone off the counter and walked around her, crouching down on the floor and opening her camera for a video.  “Come on Margot!  Let’s show daddy how you can crawl!”

“Aaaaaaaadadada!!” she said, continuing her babbling and crawling as she made her way against the hardwood floor and towards the camera.  

Later, when Svea held Margot on hip as she fixed a quick bowl of raspberries as a snack, she sent the video to Elias.  His response was almost immediate.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

***

“She’s cruising now,” Svea explained on the phone to Grace.  “Like, she can stand, but the second she takes a step she’s too wobbly and falls down.  But if she’s got the couch or the coffee table, she’s okay.”

“She’s going to be walking soon,” Grace said confidently.  “You guys think you weren’t able to sit down once she started crawling?  Well, good luck now,” she giggled.  

“I don’t know how you did this three times in a row while pregnant with the next,” Svea admitted.  “Crouching down, picking her up, over and over and over again…all that with a bump?  You’re superwoman, Grace.”

“I’m not superwoman, I’m just a mom,” Grace said.  “For going what you went through to deliver her, you’re superwoman too, you know.”

***

“Come to daddy, Margot.  Come to daddy,” Elias beckoned as he sat with his arms and legs outstretched about six feet away from Svea, who was holding Margot up by just her hands.  All of the videos Svea had sent him over the last road trip of Margot trying to walk and then falling made him want to practice once he got home.  He refused to see his daughter’s first steps over an iPhone video, and Svea understood that completely.

“Go to daddy,” Svea whispered in her daughter’s ear as she let go of her hands.

Margot wobbled a bit, took a cautionary first step, then a second, and at her parent’s excited voices, she smiled and continued with her steps, reaching Elias who was so elated with joy that he scooped her up in his arms and peppered her chubby face with kisses.  Svea could see tears escaping his eyes as he repositioned his daughter, holding her up again by her hands, and encouraging her to walk to Svea.  Some more wobbly steps and a mid-distance squat later, Margot was back in Svea’s arms, getting more kisses.

They had a walker.

***

“Your costumes are sooooo awesome, girls!” Svea cooed as she looked at Violet, Lily, Rose, and Poppy dressed up in their witch costumes as she entered the Boeser house.  “Are you girls ready to go trick-or-treating?”

The four girls nodded their heads excitedly.  “What’s Margot dressed up as?!” Violet asked.

“You’ll see when Elias brings her in,” Svea smiled, watching as Dukey, dressed up as Buzz Lightyear came running towards the door.  “Hi Dukey!”

“I Buzz Lightyear!” he screamed excitedly.  “Look!” he turned around to show off the wings of the costume.  He raised his hand in the air.  “Iffity and blonde!”

“To infinity and beyond!” Svea copied him.

Before they could go any further, Elias walked through the door with Margot in his arms and her diaper bag over his shoulder.  “Hello girls,” Elias greeted them.  “Nice costumes!  Look at Svea’s!”

The four girls cooed at her, admiring her in her cute little costume.  “Mooooooom!  Svea’s a strawberry!”

From inside the house, Elias and Svea could hear Grace scream in delight.

***

“Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you!  Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you!  Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy dear Maaaaarrrgggooooottt!  Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you!”

Margot was smiling from ear to ear as she giggled and clapped excitedly as everyone sang to her.  Her first birthday party was a hit – Irene and Torbjorn were able to come in from Sweden, Emil and Fanny were Zooming in with their kids, and practically the entire team and their kids were over the Pettersson house celebrating the big day.  

“Blow, Margot!  Blow!” Elias bent down so he was at the same eye-level as his daughter in her high chair.  He showed her how to do it before watching as she tried to mimic him.  “Blow!”

Instead, Margot made a loud fart noise with her mouth.

Everyone laughed hysterically.  Elias could hear Brock scream “I hope someone got that on video!”  Elias watched as Svea bent down to be at eye-level with Margot too.  “On three!  One, two three!  Blow!”

***

“Say mama.  Mama,” Elias said as he lay on his back on the couch and hat Margot sitting on his chest.  “Mama.  Mommy.”

“Dada.”

“No, no dada.  Mmmmmmmaaaammmmmmaaaaa,” he emphasized.  “Mama!”

“Dada!”

“MAMA!”

“DADA!”

“Elias!” Svea yelled from the kitchen.  “You can’t force her words.”

Elias grumbled.  “Mama,” he said, much quieter so Svea wouldn’t hear.  “Mama.”

“DADA!”

***

“Gröt,” Svea cooed as she spooned some more oatmeal into a spoon.  It was already all over Margot’s face and hands, Margot loving every spoonful.  Her big blue eyes looked at the spoon excitedly.  “This is gröt, Margot.  Gröt.”

“Do we really want Margot’s first Swedish word to be oatmeal?” Elias laughed as he joined his girls at the table, setting his mug of coffee down and placing Svea’s tea beside her on the table.  

“It’s at least a single syllable,” Svea mused.  She looked back at Margot, who had just swallowed the spoonful of oatmeal and was pointing at Elias taking a sip of his coffee.  “Gröt.  Gröt!” Svea repeated.  “Gröt!”

Margot pointed emphatically.  “Fika!” she said suddenly.  Svea’s and Elias’s jaws dropped.  “Fika!”

Elias snorted from behind Svea.  “Fika.  Of course her first Swedish world would be fika.”

***

“If I’m going to go back to work – I mean, I am, it’s not a question – we need to find a good daycare,” Svea said, eyes focused on her laptop screen as Margot was napping.  

“More important than the daycare, Svea, is if you’re ready,” Elias cautioned.  “Are you ready to go back to work?”

Svea had thought about it a lot – she really did.  Being at home with Margot was amazing, of course – it was the best thing ever, and she valued every millisecond – but she was ready to return to her career.  It wasn’t that she had a duty or an obligation to, or that she was feeling forced or pressured or put it on herself to be a do-it-all working mother.  She just…genuinely felt like it was the right thing to do for her.  Svea never saw herself as a stay-at-home-mother, even though she and Elias had boatloads full of money and she was told by co-workers, well-meaning-but-ultimately-offensive-friends, and random people that she didn’t need to work.  “I’m ready,” she nodded her head.  “I know it’s not going to be the same as it was before, that I won’t be working as hard, but that doesn’t matter to me.  I’ve already perfected my role.  I’ve already won an election for my party.  But I still…I still want to work.”

Elias nodded his head.  He knew Svea meant every word.  And who was he to say no?  There was no way.  He never held Svea back before, and he wasn’t going to start now.  “Then let’s look at daycares.”

***

“Every daycare we’ve been to, I haven’t gotten the best feeling,” Svea admitted to Grace as she was over her house for coffee.  Dukey and Margot were playing in their playpen in eyeshot as the women spoke about their lives.  “And it’s not me being…me.  I can’t picture Margot there.  I just can’t.  And it’s not me being picky either.  We even brought her to our favourite place to see if she’d like it and she was wailing the entire time.”

Grace was nodding in understanding, but the second Svea mentioned picturing Margot in a daycare, the lightbulb went off in her brain.  “Svea, why don’t I watch her every day?”

Svea was taken aback.  “W—What?”

“What if I watched her?  I’m already home with Dukey anyway.  And you know Margot is comfortable here at the house, and she knows me.  What if I watched her?”

Svea shook her head.  “Grace, no.  No.  I couldn’t do that to you—”

“You’re not doing it to me if I’m offering,” Grace said.  “You know how much I love kids.  It would be so fun for me!  And for Dukey!  And you know how much the girls adore her so when they get home from school you know they’ll be all about it too.  Will you promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

***

--- OFFICE OF THE PREMIER OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE ---

The Office of the Premier would like to formally thank Mitchell Maloney for fulfilling his duties as the acting chief of staff for the past eighteen months.  The office would like to formally announce that Maloney will be assigned the role of Deputy Communications Director, effective two weeks from today, as he transfers out of his position.

The Office of the Premier would like to formally welcome back Svea Pettersson from her maternity leave.  Pettersson will continue to fulfill her duties as the Premier’s Chief of Staff moving forward.  

***

“Oooooooooohhhhh fuuuuuuck, Elias,” Svea moaned, looking over her shoulder at Elias who had just slipped into her from behind.  “Feels so good baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Svea nodded.  “I love it when you fuck me from behind.”

She could hear Elias let out a low chuckle.  He began moving in and out of her slowly, almost too slowly, because Svea groaned, and Elias watched as she grabbed at their bedsheets, making her knuckles white.  “Fuck me, Elias.”

“What’s that, pretty girl?” he asked mischievously.

“Fuck me, Elias.  Fuck me harder,” Svea begged.

Elias bent over, placing kisses along her shoulders before nestling his head in the crook of her neck so he could whisper in her ear.  “I fucking love it when you beg.”

***

“Can you say bye-bye to Mama?  Bye bye!” Grace cooed as she bent down to be at level with both Margot and Svea who was already bending down, having kissed her daughter for a solid two minutes, unable to leave just yet.  “Say bye-bye!”

“Bye bye Margot!  You be good for mommy!” Svea cooed, her voice cracking as she began waving her hand so Margot could mimic her.  “Bye bye!”

“Bah-bah!” Margot clasped her hand open and closed.  “Bah-bah!”

“Bye-bye!” Svea wiped a tear that had fallen from her eye.  She stood up, and Grace followed, picking up Margot and balancing her on her hip.  “Please call me if—”

“I will, I will,” Grace interrupted.  “Please don’t worry.  I’ve got it.  Enjoy your first day at work knowing your daughter is safe and having fun.”

“I’m definitely gonna try…can’t guarantee it’ll happen,” Svea tried to joke.

***

“Go like this Margot!  Like this!” Elias said as he was on his knees, clutching a mini-stick, trying to show Margot how to hit the ball into the little hockey net they purchased months ago, which inevitably became the one thing that helped Margot learn how to walk the most.

Margot watched intently as her dad gripped the mini stick and hit the ball into the net, fetching to get it before placing it in front of her.  “Shoot!  Shoot!” he encouraged, making a swooping motion with the stick.

Margot looked down at the ball, and in one swift movement, she brought her mini-stick down and hit it straight into the net.  Elias went wild.  He began screaming and clapping and raising his hands in the air, causing Margot to start screaming and clapping and raising her hands up in the air too.  He swooped her up in his arms and gave her raspberry-style kisses, causing her to shriek and giggle loudly and controllably.  “Margot wins the game!  Margot wins the game!” he screamed in between kisses.

Svea could hear them from upstairs as she read over some work documents for tomorrow.  She felt her heart swell with love.  

***

“Who knew when we were twenty and lame that we’d be surrounded by this many girls,” Brock mused, cracking open a can of beer for Elias.  Both men looked out onto Elias’s backyard to see Violet, Rose, Lily, Poppy, and Margot all playing together, blowing bubbles and trying to catch them without popping them.  Margot was always unsuccessful, but she was having the time of her life.

Elias nodded his head.  “We’re a pair of pretty lucky guys though,” he commented.

Brock nodded his head, looking at his four daughters.  “The luckiest guys in the world.”

Later in the afternoon, when Margot had to go down for her nap, Elias was rocking her back and forth as she fell asleep on his shoulder.  Rose was quiet as she stood with him in the room, keeping a watchful eye and making sure Svea was falling asleep.  When Elias laid Margot down on the bed, Rose finally spoke.  “Uncle Petey?”

“Yes Rosey?”

“Can Margot be my sister?”

Elias smiled.  “I think she already is.”

***

“I’m actually gonna sob.  She looks so cute,” Svea commented as Elias finished putting on Margot’s toddler skates.  Margot was bundled up in a blue jacket with green tights, the colour of the Canucks, and her helmet was already placed securely on her head.  “You excited, Margot?”

“Yaaa!” she squeaked out, smiling at her mom.  “Skate!”

“Yes!  We’re going skating!” Elias cooed, picking her up and placing her on his hip as he and Svea began their walk towards the ice.  

Svea made sure to get her phone ready on video mode, knowing she’d been taking tons and tons of videos.  Most of the Canucks and their families were already on the ice, but Margot had had a mini meltdown when the helmet was put on, which delayed them.  Elias stepped onto the ice, keeping Margot on his hip as he skated around quickly, making her laugh hysterically.  Eventually, he carefully set her down on the ice, crouching down slightly behind her.  She began moving her feet as if she was walking, with Elias holding her hands above her head.

“Look at mommy Margot!  Say hi to mommy!” Elias said as Svea followed them, skating backwards slowly, filming a video on her phone.

“Hiiiiiii!” Margot said, smiling through the wire.  “Hiiiiii!”

“Hi baby!  Look at you skating!” Svea cooed as she continued the video.  “Look at you go!”

Margot squealed excitedly, looking back up at her dad who was smiling down at her as well.  “Skate!  Skate!”

***

“Let’s hope she knows how to blow this time and doesn’t fart again,” Brock commented as he helped Elias light the candles on Margot’s 2nd birthday cake.

“We’ll see,” Elias giggled.  “We haven’t practiced.”

Brock carried the cake so Elias could be beside Margot and Svea.  Everybody began singing happy birthday, and when he placed the cake in front of Margot, she clapped and wiggled excitedly.  Once everyone finished singing, it was time to see.  “Blow, Margot!  Blow!” Grace called out.

She took a deep breath in.  She looked like she was going to do it on her own.  And then…

Fart noise.

Everybody burst out into hysterical laughter.  “Two-for-two!” Brock screamed.

***

“Margot…Margot, look here,” Svea said as she balanced her on her knee, reading her a book since she’d requested it.  “Look here,” she pointed at the words at the bottom of the page.

Margot reached her hands out and pulled the book closer to her eyes.  Svea noticed her squinting until she brought the book really close to her face.  She put her finger above her mom’s and pointed to the animal on the page.  “Monkey!” she said.

Svea felt worry pool in the pit of her stomach.  She pushed the book back to its original distance away from Margot and turned the page.  “What’s this, Margot?” she asked again.

Margot reached out again to bring the book close to her eyes.  “Monkey in tree!”

“Good job, baby,” Svea cooed, closely watching her daughter.  Maybe she was overreacting.  Maybe Margot was just tired.  But Svea knew she was going to mention it to Elias when he got home.  “You’re so smart, baby.”

***

They were pink, naturally, because Margot got to choose and she was all about anything pink.  Elias was worried they would bother her, or she wouldn’t like them, or put up a giant fit once they were finally on and she realized she had to wear them all the time.  He’d shed a tear or two about it, worried like any father would be.  But Margot was taking to them surprisingly well.

“Look, Margot!” Margot’s optometrist smiled as she held up a mirror for Margot to see herself.  “These are your new glasses!  They’re for you!”

“PINK!” Margot exclaimed, swinging her feet excitedly as she saw herself in the mirror.  

“Yes, they’re pink!”

Margot looked up at her dad; she was sitting on his lap, after all.  Her giant smile with her little teeth caused him to smile too.  “Pink, daddy!”

“What’s this, Margot?” the optometrist had already opened a book and held it open a way’s away from Margot.  “What’s this right here?” she pointed to Big Bird on the page.

“Big Bird!”

***

Elias groaned as he finally slipped his hard cock into Svea.  They had been spooning in bed for what felt like hours that morning, waking up well before Margot usually did.  Elias could hear Svea groan at his length filling her up from behind, and she savoured the feeling of him peppering kisses on the backs of her shoulder blades.  “Good morning, pretty girl,” Elias mumbled coarsely in her ear as he thrust in and out of her slowly.

“G’morning, baby,” Svea smiled.  She felt Elias’s hand snake up from her hip to her breast, cupping it in his hand.  “I could get used to waking up with your hard cock inside of me.”

“Mmm, be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.”

“I know exactly what I’m wishing for.”

Elias began moving his hips more, making sure he was getting exactly the right angle even though their movement were still slow and purposeful; when Svea began moaning, closing her eyes when they rolled to the back of her head, he knew what he was doing was exactly what she wanted and needed.  “I love you so fucking much,” she mumbled out, putting her hand over his that was still cupping her breast.

“I love you too,” he placed a tender kiss on her neck.  “Thank you for giving me everything I’ve ever needed.”

Svea smiled at that, biting down on her bottom lip.  “The pleasure’s been all mine.”

***

On a beautiful, hot, and sunny afternoon in Ånge, Elias couldn’t help but smile as he watched his dad hold Margot as they swam in the pool together at his parents’ house.  Margot was having the time of her life in the water – after the baby swimming classes Svea had signed her up for, Elias figured she’d be happy and in her element.  His dad couldn’t get enough of being a grandpa to a little girl, and neither could his mom.  They spoiled all of their grandchildren.  Törbjörn had even bought Margot a little bucket hat with the Swedish flag on it to wear while they were in the pool.  

“Gillar du att stänka vattnet?” his dad cooed as Margot splashed the water with her hands.  “Tänk om jag gjorde det här?” he asked again, throwing her up in the air and catching her low enough so she could splash in the water.  Margot shrieked in delight, and that was enough reason for Törbjörn to continue.  

Elias laughed along with his daughter.  She had the best grandpa.  

***

“Look at all the pretty flowers Margot,” Svea said as she held Margot against her hip, watching Elias as he crowned her with a beautiful flower crown that Fanny helped him make.  

“Woooowww,” Margot said, grabbing at it because she was so excited.  

“Gentle!” Elias warned softly.  He didn’t want it to break after Fanny worked so hard on it.  “Be gentle, Margot,” he repeated as he made sure it was on snugly and properly before pulling his hands away.

“My flower!  My crown!” she smiled.  “Daddy, you have flowers too?”

Elias eyed Svea with a smirk on his face.  Svea knew he’d already crumbled.  All it took was that question from Margot.  He hadn’t exactly planned on wearing a flower crown, but he knew exactly where this was headed now.  “You want daddy to wear flowers too?”

Margot nodded her head enthusiastically.  “Mommy, daddy, me match!”

What Margot wanted; Margot got.  

***

“It would be the first picture we’ve posted of her since the Christmas card photos leaked,” Elias mused as he looked at the picture on his Instagram, almost, almost ready to hit the elusive ‘post’ button.  

“We didn’t release those – they were posted without our consent,” Svea clarified.  She was right.  They had no control over that and were actually really upset about it.  To this day, they still don’t know who did it.  “This would be the first photo you post of her willingly.”

Elias looked over at his wife.  “Do you think I should do it?  It’s so fucking cute,” he looked back at his phone, admiring the picture one more time.  

In it, Margot was in her pink fluffy bathrobe, her wet hair combed back, and she was sitting on Elias’s chest as they were in bed together.  Elias was holding her, pursing his lips, and Margot was putting lip balm on his lips.  A classic “girl dad” photo, he thought.  And if he was going to send any message out into the world about his child and the relationship he had with her, it was going to be what was encapsulated in this picture.

Svea snuggled herself into Elias’s side, bringing her hand up and pressing ‘post’ for him.  “There,” she said, smiling.  “All done.”

***

“When she blows out the candles, she better fart again.”

“You’re gross.”

“She’s gotta go three-for-three, Petey, or else this party is a bust.”

“You have a boy – can’t you go make fart jokes with him?”

“I have a boy who has grown up with four older sisters.  He isn’t exactly one for fart jokes.”

Elias shook his head at Brock, but he couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face.  “You finally get a boy after four girls and you can’t even make a fart joke with him,” he shook his head playfully.  “Just your luck, eh?”

Brock shook his head.  “I have five healthy, beautiful kids.  I’ll take whatever I get.”

When Elias carried the cake in and Brock began recording on his phone, everybody began singing happy birthday to Margot – a happy, energetic but cautious, giggly but quiet, exactly-like-both-her-parents’-temperaments-it-was-kind-of-scary-three year old, who every day was looking more and more like Elias’s double.  She adjusted her glasses as everyone sang to her, and clapped along too.  When it was time to blow, she did.

No fart noises.

“Noooooooo!” Brock groaned loudly.  Elias pretended like he was going to backslap him over the head.  “No fart noise!”

“It was fun while it lasted,” Svea winked at him.

***

“Will they be in my class, mommy?” Margot asked as she looked into the classroom sheepishly, a little shy now that she was in a new environment.  Elias and Svea had started to talk to her about school, and how – now that she was a big girl – she needed to start going to school to learn, just like how Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy went to school.  

“Can I go to Poppy’s school?” she asked nervously one day.

Elias and Svea decided to take her there, knowing that it would make her feel more comfortable.  Knowing that Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy went there too put her at ease.  When they saw all the girls in the junior kindergarten class in their green plaid dresses, they could tell Margot recognized them from seeing them on the Boeser girls.  

“These girls won’t be in your class, but new girls who are the same age as you will be,” Svea said.  “Do you like that?”

Margot hesitated slightly before nodding her head.  “I like new friends.”

***

“She is out cold,” Svea smiled as she lowered herself slowly and gently onto the couch, making sure not to disturb the peaceful image before her: Margot, after an exciting and fun day of shopping for her new school uniform, completely knocked out in Elias’s arms, sleeping soundly on his chest as he rubbed her back.

Svea cradled her body into Elias, too, snuggling up against him and admiring her daughter.  From the blonde hair on her head, to her pink glasses on her face, to her cute little toes Elias still loved to pretend to eat, she was perfect.  As Svea thought this, she felt Elias grab her hand between them and bring it up to his lips for a kiss, holding on to it as his thumb grazed over her skin.  “We did alright in the end, didn’t we?”

Svea smiled and nodded her head.  “We did.”

“She’s perfect.  She’s just perfect,” he said, placing the lightest of kisses atop Margot’s head.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Svea admitted.

Elias looked over at her, craning his head down to give his wife a kiss.  “I love you more than I know how to explain.  Thank you for giving me the light in my life.”

***

“Then all around from far away across the world, he smelled good things to eat, so he gave up being king of where the wild things are,” Elias read to Margot as they cuddled together in the rocking chair in her room.  In her comfortable jammies and with her head on his chest, she was mouthing along to all the words of the book.  Elias could see her get progressively more tired as he flipped through the pages, though she kept trying to mouth along and kept trying to keep her eyes open.  

When they finished, Elias put the book on her bedside table as he cradled Margot in his arms and lay her down in bed, making sure to put the covers over her just how she liked.  Still struggling to keep her eyes open, he brushed some hair out of her face.  “Daddy?” she asked in her sweet voice.

“Yes baby?”

“I love you daddy.”

Elias smiled.  “I love you too, Margot.”

“Will you read to me always?” she asked.

Elias nodded his head automatically.  “Always.”

***

“Look at her go!” Grace exclaimed as she watched Margot zoom around the ice, chasing Poppy and Dukey around as they all giggled like maniacs.  “I mean, who am I kidding?  The daughter of Elias Pettersson?  Of course she’s gonna skate like that!”

“She’s definitely a natural,” Svea smiled as her eyes followed her daughter around the ice.  Brock and Elias both skated up behind their kids and scooped them up in their arms, giving them kisses before setting them back down on the ice together.  “Do you ever think about how far we’ve all come…based on where we started when we met each other in our early twenties?”

“All the time,” Grace nodded.  “We were so young!  We were kids!  Now there’s six kids between us!”

“A little skewed on your side, though,” Svea winked.

Grace elbowed her playfully.  “We did good.”

***

“Margot!  Margot!” Elias called out to his daughter who was already having fun with a new friend in her classroom as they played with a xylophone together.  Other parents were in the room doing the exact same thing as he and Svea: making sure everything was okay on the first day of school.  But the longer he and Svea stood there watching her, the more they realized she didn’t need them there; that she would thrive in the classroom and not have a meltdown about being in a new place.  

To her credit, Margot listened when she heard her dad call her name and got up from her seat to hop over to her parents.  “Mommy and daddy have to go now,” Elias said as he and Svea crouched down so they could by at eye-level with her.  She nodded her head in understanding.  “You listen to Mrs. Becker, okay?”

“I will.”

“Aunt Grace is going to come pick you up with Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy.  Remember?” Svea asked.

“Yes mommy.”

“And remember—” Svea choked up slightly, Elias putting her hand over hers.  “Mommy and daddy love you very much.”

“I love you too!” Margot said as she hugged her parents goodbye before skipping back to her friend and playing with the xylophone again.  

Elias and Svea said goodbye to Mrs. Becker and held hands as they left the school building and walked back together to their car in the parking lot, silent the entire time.  When Svea looked over at Elias once they were back in the privacy of their car, she could see tears streaming down his face.  “Now you’re going to make me cry,” she said, wiping a few tears that had fallen.

“She’s so good.  I’m so proud of her,” he said, wiping his own tears with the backs of his hands.  “No meltdowns!  Just walked right in there and started making friends.  She’s so good.”

“Don’t jinx it – she might have a meltdown tomorrow,” Svea joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It garnered a smile out of Elias.  He looked at his wife and placed his hand over hers tenderly.  “I love you so much,” he mumbled, bringing her hand up to kiss it before cradling it against his chest, above his heart.  All these years later, I’ve just grown to love you more, if that’s even possible.”

“I think it is, because I grew to love you more too,” Svea said softly.  “My Elias.  Always my Elias.

He kissed her hand again.  “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

[ellitx]

I know this is mostly a venti blog but will you write for albedo again? would love to see more of him with your writing.. oh also I hope this doesn't come off as pushy haha I was just wondering

I did made a snippet of another albedo x reader and the draft is sitting here for months now ajskks

It has 1.7k words and albedo still hasnt appeared yet orz so uhm, here ya go even tho its not yet finished im sorryy

This looks like aether x reader at the start

            The soft clouds of Mondstadt were a wonderful sight to see. Hues of white and blues scattered across the horizon, making it seem like a smudge of a paintbrush, beautifully painted on the canvas. 

            You were wandering at the town square of Mond, mindlessly checking the shops that will ever catch your interest. You passed by Marjorie’s souvenir shop, boring. Checking Timaeus’s alchemy, yeah you’ve already learned a lot, no need to go back there. 

            Unfortunately, there was none at all.

            A tired sigh slipped from your lips and furrowed your brows. There was nothing to do and you’ve already done all your tasks. Klee was still stuck in her confinement, so you can’t play with her today.

            What a bummer…

            Another sigh came and your stomach released a sound hungry grumbling. You squirmed and wrapped your arms around your waist to silence the noise. Walking around the town made you starve for sure. 

            You noticed a lot of people have been crowding at Sara’s restaurant. Was there an event or something? You shrugged your shoulders to brush those thoughts off, more focused on getting food than the commotion that is happening in front of you.

            “Excuse me—“

            “Please, traveler!! I’ll give you a meal for free!”

            Your brows raised in surprise seeing the Honorary Knight was here. “Ooh, free meal?! Traveler, say yes! Say yes!!” His floating companion, Paimon, exclaimed whilst floating around and wiggled her little legs in excitement. “F-fine… we can’t say no to a free food.”

            Aether placed his hand on his hair and ruffled it with a sigh of defeat. From the corner of his eyes, he saw you waving at him.

           “[Name]!” You approached them and gave a big grin. “Hey! Didn’t know you’re already back here in Mondstadt.”

            He chuckled and rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, we just recently arrived.” Before you could respond, Sara called out your name. “[Name]! Perfect timing, I also need your help.” 

            You tipped your head and hummed. “Sure. Is it another delivery?” The waitress shook her head and jutted her thumb behind her. “Lots of customers are coming and we need you two to give these orders on their table.”

            Your eye twitched and squinted at her in wariness. “I don’t mind but please don’t tell me I still have to wear that uniform.” 

            “Even though it’s a must, there's no need to. There's not enough time to change. Just give these meals to their respective tables.” She clasped her hands in front in a begging manner. Breathing in relief, you went to the counter to take the plates and set off to serve them.

            “You owe me a free Flaming Red Bolognese!” The outlander chuckled at your words and mimicked your action, ready to do the task.

            The duty actually went smoothly than you thought it would be. With Aether helping you out, it was fast and steady but with a few slips here and there. Just as you were already done, another pack of customers came rushing in.

            “Woah!! [Name] really is the waitress again in Good Hunter~!” 

            “Hey! First come, first serve!! And no skipping lines!”

            You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned your head. This is bad. Really bad.

            Your throat bobbed seeing lots of customers gathering in the diner. Then you slapped both sides of your to shake off the nervousness. Paimon glanced at you and floated over. “Woah, lots of people came. Shouldn’t you two handle it?”

            Aether seemed like he was about to pass out from exhaustion and hunger. “I…I just want something to eat…” Head clouded and hazy, he unknowingly grabbed the emergency ration by her legs and opened his mouth ready to take a bite to get rid of his starvation. It surprised her as she wriggled out from his grasp and stomped her foot in the air.

            “Get a hold of yourself! Sticky Honey Roast is almost there waiting for you!”

            “Huh?! Says the one who just floats around and does nothing to help!”

           This is going to be a long day.

  —

             “Good work, everyone!” Sara clapped and wiped her head to remove the sweat that was slipping on the side of her head. The waitress then put out a meat dish coated with sweet honey sauce. The fragrant of the freshly cooked dish wafted through their noses making them drool.

            “Finally!!” Aether cried and took a big munch of Good Hunter’s beloved dish. 

            “And here’s your Flaming Red Bolognese, [Name]. They’re freshly cooked, so eat it while it’s still hot.” She winked and gave you a fork. You thanked Sara and twirled the spaghetti with your fork, letting its long noodles snake around it.

            “Ah, by the way, I have another request for you.” You quirked a brow at her as you chew your food, signing her to continue. “A client asked me to prepare a banquet and since we’re currently low on staff, do you mind if you do the baking?”

            You grabbed a napkin and wiped the red stains on your lips. Her request made you raise a question though. Why you and not someone who’s good at baking? Well, you can bake too but at an approaching proficiency level only. 

            The first person who came to your mind was Noelle. She can do everything perfectly well with ease. However, she seems so busy lately, so asking her to do it will make you feel bad and you don’t want to add another task to her hands.

            And the other one is…

             I-I don’t know anyone else who can bake…! 

             You can also ask Aether but you don’t want to trouble him any further especially since he just arrived here. You've already lost count of how many sighs escaped from you. Well, it’s better to help a friend who’s in trouble than just leaving them there struggling.

            “Sure, but why me?” You asked. Her lips curved and grinned at you as her eyes gleamed like the stars at night. “Your Moon Pie was so heavenly! When I took a bite of it, all the taste came to me at once. And the meringue was perfect! Not too sweet and not too bland.”

            “I would do anything to have another plate of it…” She placed her hands on her cheeks as she whined, drooling just thinking about the said pastry. 

            “So what kind of pastries am I going to bake? I hope it’s not too many.”  Sara propped her elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Just a cake that’s all.” She then waved her hand, motioning you to come closer.

            Aether looked at them who are whispering to each other. He saw your face turned beet red and before puffing up your cheeks and playfully slapping her arms. Whatever their chat was, he shouldn’t bother wanting to know it.

            Food is here. Food is free, must eat it. Yes, only these thoughts must be inside his head. He continued relishing the delicious meal with Paimon across gnawing the plate clean.

  —

             “Flour, check. Eggs, check. Milk, check. Now all I need is… strawberries!” You were currently shopping for ingredients in Blanche’s shop. Your eyes scanned the racks, looking for a pack of that delicate pink fruit. With the continuous search for the red fruit up and down the shop, you're starting to lose hope at no signs of sight of that sweet berry.

            Did they run out of stock?

            You went towards the shop owner and asked. Sadly, she said yes, much to your dismay. 

            “There might be fresh strawberries in Springvale. You should ask there. Or—” Blanche suddenly smirked, making you feel unease about what’s behind that mischievous smile of hers.

            “You could ask Albedo to grow one for you. He can easily grow out those with just his alchemic powers or something.” Huh, it can be. You closed your eyes and give a thought about it. 

            “Albedo? I mean yeah, but he’s busy right now.”

            “Eh? But he’s right behind you.”

            The mention of the said male standing behind you made you immediately whirled your head in excitement. You feel delighted knowing about it, but rather expecting to see his figure there, you see nothing. No one and not a thing was there. Only air greeted you. 

            The shopkeeper snorted and covered her mouth to hold her laughter as small tears started to create from the edge of her eyes. You can’t believe she just did that. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment that Blanche just tricked you into thinking the Chief Alchemist was really there.

            “S-sorry sorry.” She said in between her giggles and shook her hand. You grumbled and took out a pouch of mora to pay for the ingredients and shoving it into her hands.

            “Keep the change.”

            And with that, you marched your way off to Springvale with your face still flushed. Blanche looked over to the waitress of Good Hunter and gave her a thumbs up with that impish grin still glued to her face.

i have to cut it off here since its not finished yet. It’s just klee and reader are baking. idk what happened to my motivation in writing for albedo ;; but if you read the snippet you can get the whole idea of this oneshot

[openheart12]

Everything I Do, I Do It for You

A/N: This was an anon request I received and I hope I did it justice?? Fluff is definitely not a strength of mine lmao

Summary: After becoming pregnant with their first child, Ed is more protective than ever of his wife.

WC: 1,482

Lorraine awoke with a content smile playing on her lips, gentle streams of the morning sun shone through the curtains. Out of habit, she reached her hand over and found the mattress to be cool under her touch, a sign that it had been long since abandoned.

She lifted her head, glancing around the room for any trace of Ed. She groaned as a wave of nausea hit her and she ran into the bathroom, a new part of her daily routine.

She emptied the contents of her stomach and leaned back against the wall, taking a few deep breaths before getting up and rinsing her mouth out.

“Lorraine?” She heard Ed call as their bedroom door opened.

“In here,” she called weakly.

“You okay, hon?” He asked softly, running over to her.

“Great,” she murmured as another wave rocked her stomach. She breathed deeply, trying to focus on anything else and it worked because the feeling passed.

Ed noticed her body trembling and carefully led her back to their bed. “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing back into the bathroom. He came out a minute later with a warm wash cloth he laid across her forehead.

The warmth felt good, she could feel the onset of a headache.

“Maybe we should call the doctor?” Ed suggested.

She shook her head, knowing this was normal. “It’s just morning sickness, I’ll be fine.”

“I know. I just worry about you and the baby.”

Lorraine smiled, knowing how protective he was of her and how that only increased as her pregnancy progressed. “We’re both fine,” she promised, grabbing his hand and laying it across the small swell of her stomach.

He grinned, it was still hard to believe that there was a baby in there, a piece of both of them and their love.

They had found out she was pregnant a couple months ago by accident, but they had been overjoyed with the unexpected news. Ed jumped right into his protective mode, making sure she was taking it easy and eating healthy. He also made them take a break from new cases for now, his priorities were on his wife and baby and the cases would just have to wait.

He wasn’t going to put Lorraine in danger and he didn’t want to solve cases without her, knowing that they were a team. And since the pregnancy was his fault, as Lorraine let him know many times jokingly, he decided to take a break too.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” she replied, noticing her grumbling stomach.

“What do you want, hon?”

“Waffles and bacon and eggs,” she said, “oh, and toast!” She added.

He chuckled at her response and kissed her cheek before heading downstairs. Now alone, she stretched across the bed, her muscles tense.

She decided on a quick shower and she welcomed the hot water on her back, loosening her muscles a bit. Changing into fresh clothes, she then made her way downstairs where the smell of bacon drew her in.

Her gaze shifted to Ed who was standing in front of the stove, stirring eggs around. She padded up behind him, snaking her arms around his waist and taking him by surprise.

“Hey, you,” he replied softly. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Mhm, smells delicious. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“And face your wrath?” He teased. She pinched his side slightly, laughing when he jumped in her arms. “Ow, okay, I’m sorry,” he joined in with her laughter. He moved the pan off the burner and turned around, pulling her impossibly closer. “I love you, I don’t think I’ve told you that today.”

“No, but you get a pass today. If,” her voice turned serious, “breakfast is as good as it smells.”

“I make no promises,” he laughed again.

“Do you need help with anything?” She offered, knowing his answer before he said anything.

“No, you can just sit at the counter and look beautiful as always.”

She shook her head with a laugh and took a seat on the stool, opening the morning newspaper and reading it. A few minutes later, Ed brought her plate to her, laying it down in front of her.

“Thank you, hon,” she said graciously. He kissed the top of her head in response.

They ate breakfast and made light conversation and afterwards, Ed insisted on doing the dishes saying she needed her rest, a phrase that was becoming all too familiar to her.

She was only a couple months along, not even into her second trimester yet and it was already impossible for Ed to let her do anything.

She plopped down on the couch and turned on the tv, scrolling through the channels until she found something that caught her interest.

Ed walked out a few minutes later, saying he was running to the store to pick up a couple things they needed. “And don’t do anything strenuous,” he added, emphasizing the ‘strenuous.’

She rolled her eyes and agreed to his terms. As soon as she heard the front door close, she got up and headed to the laundry room where their clothes had been building up.

Sorting the clothes into their respective piles and colors, she started the machine. It wasn’t long before they were clean and since Ed still hadn’t returned, she decided to move them over to the dryer.

“Hon? I’m home,” she heard Ed call her just as the door shut with a thud. She ran out of the laundry room, thankful it was close to the kitchen and she could make it seem like she was getting a glass of water.

“In here!” She called.

He made his way into the kitchen and laid the bags on the counter. “I got you a few things,” he said, pulling out a carton of ice cream, chocolates, and pickles; a favorite of hers since she got pregnant.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she replied, kissing him lightly on the lips before grabbing the ice cream and pickles and going back to claim her spot on the couch.

“Do you have any clothes upstairs?” He asked.

His question made her freeze in her tracks, almost dropping the glass jar of pickles. “Um, why do you ask?”

“I was going to do the laundry since it’s been building up.”

Crap, she thought to herself. “N-no,” she stuttered.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing the color drain from her face.

“Yeah, but laundry can wait, can’t it?” She asked hopefully.

“Lorraine…” he sighed. “What did you do?”

“N-nothing…” she trailed off. He gave her the look that he knew she was lying. “Well, I wanted to help you out and so I washed the clothes for you. They should actually be done drying in a few minutes,” she said, looking at the clock on the wall.

“You really shouldn’t be lifting things, hon.”

“I’m fine, Ed,” she defended. “I’m not fragile, just pregnant.”

He walked closer to her, “I know. I just… I just don’t want you to overdo it. Your health and safety is my top priority and now that there’s a baby, I don’t want to risk it. I know it’s hard for you not to do things for yourself, but I’m also here to help you in any way I can.” He said understandingly.

“And that’s one of the many reasons I love you, but I still want to be able to do things. At least while I still can.”

“Okay, still no heavy lifting,” he added.

“Yes sir,” she smirked.

“You and your stubbornness,” he said jokingly, tapping his finger on her cheek eliciting a laugh from her.

“You love it,” she replied.

“I love everything about you.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, another symptom of her pregnancy was her severe mood swings. She’d be laughing and smiling one minute, and then crying the next. “My hand is cold,” she complained, as a single tear slid down her cheek.

He took the ice cream from her and grabbed her hand, rubbing it with his to warm it up. “Better?”

She nodded with a gentle smile. “Can we watch a movie?”

“Anything for you, hon.” He picked back up the carton and took the pickles from her as they walked in the living room and sat down. She snuggled into his side as his arm wrapped around her as she picked up a pickle and dipped it into the ice cream.

Another thing of her pregnancy, the cravings. It was the most absurd combination she quite enjoyed and Ed always looked on in disgust and awe. Disgust of the combination and in awe that his wife was growing a tiny person inside of her.

She was amazing, he’d come to that realization a long time ago, but this only proved it further. He was completely and utterly in love with this woman even if she ate ice cream and pickles together.

[lunarliza]

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter 3: Bandanas

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter | chapter one

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl?

Your eyes peeled open. You groaned at the lack of sleep as you shifted to your bedside table to check your phone. Almost immediately after your rendezvous the night before, JJ dashed out the window, leaving you to drift to sleep. 

Sometimes, you’d get this weird feeling after he would leave so quickly- like you were being used. Well, you were, but you hated feeling like it. It was like a comedown after the euphoria of sex and it didn’t always feel the best, but you dealt with it. It had be going on for almost three months; you were way too in over your head at this point. 

You sighed, staring at the wall across your bed, thinking back to the remnants of that first night. How nasty and humid the air felt as you both rejoined the party after like nothing happened: 

“You can’t tell anyone about what just happened,” JJ stated as he fixed his shorts. 

His words did pierce you slightly, but you put on a front nevertheless. “Please, I’d rather be caught dead than with you.” 

He chuckled to himself as you both trudged down the beach. “That’s not what I heard back there princess.” 

It didn’t take long for your parents to blow up your phone that night, seeing it was 3 a.m. and their daughter was nowhere to be found. You came home with the smell of alcohol emitting through your clothes.You only hoped you had wiped off enough smeared mascara on the car ride home to deter them. Your mother read you the riot act as Ted stood in the corner of the kitchen. She screamed and hollered before her palm finally came in contact with your cheek. 

The following Monday, you ditched last period and drove over to The Cut, hoping to come across JJ. Driving along a narrow street, you see the shirtless golden boy mowing the lawn in a small yard. Pulling up, you rolled the windows down while a devilish grin snaked its way to his lips once he caught sight of you.

“Couldn’t stay away from me huh?”

You glared at him. “Just shut up and get in.” 

Shutting off the lawn mower, he hopped in your car, smelling of sweat and freshly cut grass . 

“Look,” you began, fiddling with the ends of your blouse, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” 

JJ’s finger tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. It was different seeing them in broad daylight. He didn’t seem like some sleazy Pogue you met at a party. He actually reminded you of a puppy... an annoying one with anger issues. 

“I understand if-” 

“No, I get you,” he answered, biting his lower lip. “After the way we fucked that night, I’m down to... go at it again.” 

“Okay but we need rules,” you insisted to which he rolled his eyes. “What’s with chicks and rules?” 

“This island is small and talk gets around. No one can know about us.” 

“Well duh.” He gave you an annoyed look. “You may think you’re all that and a bag of chips but my friends would totally clown me if they found out I was with a Kook, much less you.” 

“Oh please! What do you even know about me?” you retorted, not having his attitude outburst. 

“Y/n, you’re like bitchiest of them all,” he replied snarkily and your eyes met the ceiling of your car. “Not even the Kooks like you.” 

“Shut up, asshole.” You tried to hide the hurt from the fact that even he knew about your reputation. “Anyways, rule number two: we have to meet on Figure Eight.” 

“Hell no, why do I have to haul my ass to you?” 

You sighed heavily, gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. “My stepdad will literally kill me if he finds me here. Look, I know all the hiding places there and I’ll even get you a keycard to get in through the gate.” 

JJ smiled to himself. “Kill you huh? And yet, here you are, coming here, practically begging for me to fuck you. What will daddy think about that?” 

You contemplated punching him in that moment. “Don’t flatter yourself. You followed me that night remember?” 

JJ shrugged, leaning back in the seat. “I thought you were a touron. It was dark- sue me. Anyways, fine! We meet at the Eight. Anything else?” 

“This goes without saying, but absolutely no feelings,” you stated sternly as JJ snorted. 

“Oh princess, you do not have to worry about that whatsoever.” 

“Fine then, it’s a deal.” 

You both shook on it. JJ held onto your hand a moment longer to tug you onto the passenger seat, colliding his lips with yours. It didn’t take you both very long to undress and climb into the back seat afterwards.

A loud knock on your bedroom door startled you. “Y/n! Breakfast in ten minutes!” 

Peeling off your duvet, you leaped out of bed and started doing some small stretches until you noticed a jumbled up grey bandana on your window seat. 

“Fucking kid,” you muttered to yourself before reaching for it and throwing it in a bin on your shelf. 

JJ was klepto alright. He also had a terrible habit of leaving shit everywhere he went. If he tried to rob a bank, he’d be caught in seconds because he’d leave some trace of him. Over the course of your agreement you unintentionally started making a collection of the things he left. What started out as a bracelet on your nightstand grew to socks, lighters, hats, sunglasses, tank tops, and the occasional perfectly rolled joint (that he’d never see again). You always meant to give back all the shit he left, but he’d always leave so hurriedly that you’d forget and the collection would just grow. 

------------------------------

“Jade!” you blurted unexpectedly as you strolled into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” 

The small brunette sat next to your mother at the table, halfway done with her breakfast plate. She flashed you her killer sunny smile as your mom chimed in from her seat. “Jade here was in the neighborhood and wanted to take you on a boat ride this morning with the Cameron family.” 

“It’ll be fun y/n!” she insisted, kicking her tiny legs that didn’t reach the floor.

You were a little confused as to why you were invited to hang out with the Cameron kids seeing as they have always ignored you at school and every event. Jade caught on and threw you a look that said ‘just go with it’. 

“Um, yeah. I’m really excited to hang out with uh- Sierra and Ra- her brother,” you babbled, earning yourself an ‘Are you fucking kidding me’ look. You shrugged your shoulders, helping yourself to some eggs and pancakes. 

“Well sweetie, I think it’s great that you’re getting to know more people around here! Don’t forget you do need an escort for the Debutante Ball in a few weeks so maybe you can ask the Cameron boy to take you,” your mother suggested and Jade nearly spit out her fruit at the mention of it.  

You closed your eyes, sighing. “Yes, of course mother.” 

“So when were you going to tell me you’re a debutante!” Jade cackled as you both made way to the Camerons’ boat along the dock.  

“If you ever mention it again, I will personally slit your throat.” 

“You! You y/n of all people!” She had to suppress her laughter to a fit of giggles. “So wait, you’ve been going to Chapel Hill all this time to learn how to ballroom dance and do all that?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes! I told you my mother is actually insane. Anyways, what are we doing hanging out with the Camerons anyways? I thought you hated their sister.” 

“I do,” Jade responded as-a-matter-of-factly, “It’s the brother that’s delicious. Oh- and Sarah won’t be there and neither will their dad or any of their family really. It’s just going to be Rafe and a couple of his friends. He told me to bring some friends too so it won’t be awkward.” 

“And you chose me of all people? Jade, you have plenty of other very sociable friends you could have brought.” 

“Shut up y/n! You’re hot as shit okay! You just need to get out there more and meet people. Maybe then you won’t hate it here so much. Trust me, once you experience the OBX the right way, you’ll absolutely love it.” 

You crinkled your nose at her. “You’re just as insane as my mother.”  

“Come on! There are hot guys wanting to take us on their very nice boats. It’s free drinks and maybe some food,” she promised. 

You groaned. “Fine, but if any of them make an unsolicited move on me, I’m jumping overboard and swimming home. Also, now that I think about it, isn’t Rafe like way too old to be hanging around us?” 

Jade shrugged. “A little age never hurt nobody.” The boys whooped as Jade made her grand entrance onto their very large white boat as you trailed behind. Another thing you weren’t well versed in since moving here- boats. To you it was just big and small, windows and no windows, motor and no motor, but it was like a language here. When everyone would start rambling off about engines and fishing and whatnot you would just kindly smile and nod until they got the hint and walked away. 

“Who’s your friend McCoy?” a tall boy with slicked back hair asked Jade as he enclosed an arm around her waist. 

“Rafe, this is y/n! She moved here in October and lives on the east end of the Eight.” 

So this was the famous Rafe Cameron. You’d seen him a couple times golfing with Ted when you would hide away in the golf cart on your phone. Ted would mention a few times about how he was trouble and, telling by the way he still hung out with high schoolers at almost 20 years old, you believed it. 

You smiled uneasily and gave him a tiny wave as two other guys emerged from the front with a cooler. They both coordinated with the colorful short-shorts and printed button ups. They also wore those God-awful tinted sunglasses with the band connecting the backs. You recognized them from school- Topper and Kelce.

“Oh hey y/n,” they greeted tensely, each giving you an awkward smile and one-armed hug. You were in shock they knew your name even.

“McCoy, did you bring anyone else?” Kelce asked, totally not making it obvious of your unwanted presence. 

Not even the Kooks like you. 

You knew you’d have a hard time the moment you stepped foot onto Figure Eight. You had a very humble upbringing, which was unfathomable to the kids at school, so it was hard for you to make any real friends besides Jade. During the school year, you ate lunch by yourself and sprinted home as soon as the final bell rang. It got to a point where, when anyone would try to talk to you, you’d either roll your eyes or just simply ignore them. 

“Nope! Just me and my girl.” Jade flung an arm around your shoulder and handed you a beer. She raised her eyebrows at you to check if you were okay, and you smiled reassuringly, taking the bottle. 

“Let’s hope she knows how to hang,” Topper added as he started the engine on the boat. 

You sipped on your beer as you rode down the marsh. Kelce tried to make small talk with you as Topper drove and Jade macked on Rafe. It actually wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, Kelce did have the occasional funny story or witty thing to say even if it was about swinging a golf club or purchasing some extravagant item no one ever needed. 

“Woah Pogue alert,” you heard Topper warn as he steered next to a smaller boat hanging on the side

You glanced over and immediately met eyes with JJ who was casually laying back with his friends- two dudes and a girl. When he wasn’t acting like a complete jerk, he actually looked down to earth and kind of innocent. Cans of cheap beer littered their deck and a cute little ‘HMS Pogue’ lettering hung from the back. 

You turned back to Kelce, thinking it was just a quick pass by until you heard something thump on the side of the boat from their side. 

“Fucking rats!” Rafe barked at the group and hurled an open can of beer over towards them. 

“That’s for the van you sons of bitches!” you heard JJ holler as Topper slowed down the boat so they were eye-to-eye. 

“Hey that’s payback! I know it was you that fucked up my bike, filthy Pogue!” Topper snarled, pointing at JJ, tumbling more shit in their direction. 

The throwing escalated into an all-out war. You screamed and joined Jade who was clearly outraged as she ducked under the cooler for cover. 

“Rafe, just fucking drop it and let’s go! You’re wasting shit at this point,” she urged also throwing Topper a stern look to get moving.  

“This isn’t over!” Rafe roared at the group as Topper sped up the engine again. 

“That’s right, just ride along you fucking Kooks! And take your hoes with you!” JJ shouted. 

You threw a glare his way at the vulgar name he called you and stuck up middle fingers his way, sailing off. 

Fucking tool. 

------------------------------

chapter four

tags: @starkeybaby​ @obxlife​ @everydayimfangirling​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @tangledinsparkles​ @poguesrforlife​​ @thx-quxxn​ @obxmxybxnk​ @rororo06​ @poguesforlife​ @ilymarkchan​

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Cuddly Date Time

Alastor & Telly @usedhearts have a date night and completely ignore their movie and snacks because Alastor found a list of questions for partners to ask each other.

And so they ask each other a million questions.

It's very nice.

Telly

Date night! Telly had the Eggs set up the projector on the bridge, and pull in one of the chaise lounges. He had a bowl of popcorn, and mixings for drinks.

And he wore just a t-shirt. He was a comfy snake tonight.

Alastor

Date night! Never content with one snack where multiple would do, Alastor had spent the last couple of hours in the kitchen, putting together bacon-wrapped pineapple, stuffed mushroom caps, and a couple dozen crostini each topped with a random assortment of whatever looked fun in the fridge. He'd discovered he liked hand-feeding his partner, and by god was he *gonna.*

The longer he lived with Telly, the more obvious it was that he needed to get himself more casual clothes; but for now, he'd make do with a t-shirt (stolen from Telly's stock) and his bath robe to get comfortable. He swooped in with a tray of snacks, summoned up a side table to set it on, and slid his arms around Telly as he sat. "Why, hello there~"

Telly

Telly smiled, leaning into Alastor's side.

"Hello to you, too. Fancy seeing you here." He laughed and kissed Alastor.

"Are we ready to go?" He lifted the remote, to point backwards at the projector.

Alastor

He returned the kiss and settled into Telly's side. "Ready when you are!"

Telly

"Here we go!" He clicked the remote and the lights dimmed and the movie started. That done, he wrapped his arm around Alastor, turning to kiss his cheek.

"So, what culinary delights did you make for me to try this time?"

Alastor

Alastor hummed along to the opening notes of Music Man, then glanced over to his tray of food. "Mushrooms, bacon-wrapped pineapple—I thought you'd like a little tropical fruit—" smooch, "—and a veritable rainbow of crostini treats!" He'd sort of tried to stick them in rainbow order. He doesn't quite remember rainbow order. "We had some odds and ends of jams and cheeses and pickled things, so I got creative."

Telly

"Oh, sounds tasty! I will leave it up to the discretion of the chef which I try first." He smirked and winked.

His eyes flicked back to the screen for a moment, and he hummed.

Alastor

"Well, in that case..." He'd gotten the pineapple specifically for Telly, so he plucked that up to offer first.

Telly

Telly opened his mouth to accept the pineapple. He hummed as he chewed, and nodded. "Oh, that is delicious!"

Alastor

"Good!" Alastor was constantly amazed at how gratifying the little things were these days. Things like Telly's little hum.

He picked up a mushroom cap to offer next. "I'd forgotten how much I enjoy the first song! With all the train sounds." That said, he's already only paying about 40% attention to the movie. The movie is mainly an excuse to cuddle.

Telly

"Oh yes, it's quite ingenious!" Telly turned his head to glance at the screen before focusing back on Alastor. He took the next bite and his face scrunched a moment, before smoothing to contentment.

"Mm, interesting!"

Alastor

Huff! "Is that interesting good or interesting bad? I can take them if you don't like them."

Telly

"Interesting good! It just wasn't the flavor I was expecting them to be." He grinned and picked one up to offer Alastor. "But I _will_ share."

Alastor

"Why, *thank* you! Don't mind if I do." He took the bite then kissed Telly's thumb before he sat back to chew.

Telly

Telly followed as he sat back, pecking his cheek. "You looked so _indignant_ just then, it was adorable."

Alastor

"I did not," he said good-naturedly. "I happen to know for a fact I was smiling the whole time."

Telly

"Yes, you were! But I've started to identify your different smiles. That one was definitely indignant." He nodded for emphasis, even as he fought to keep his face in a mock serious mask.

Alastor

"Really!" He laughed, grinning wider. "Well, what's this one, then?"

Telly

"That's your 'I'm amused at my partner-in-crime's antics' smile." He giggled.

Alastor

"Close! But you missed the utter adoration."

Telly

"Oh yes, how could I miss that!" He laughed and leaned to kiss Alastor.

Alastor

He returned the kiss, then leaned in to nuzzle Telly's neck. "Say. It occurs to me that I'm not paying terribly close attention to the movie, and I can't help but notice you aren't either. If you don't mind paying a little less attention, I picked up a game that might be fun to play?"

Telly

"A game?" Telly tilted his head, smiling at the nuzzling. Sometimes it still sent a thrill down his spin that Alastor was here with him, like this, and he felt it now.

"What sort of game?"

Alastor

"Well, considering the topic we were just on..." He pulled out his phone with a flourish. (It was hard to flourish with a cell phone, but he was determined to make it work.) "Questions to get to know each other better! I don't think there are any about smiles, but it's a fine list nonetheless. Personally, I always love a good interview—and I know I still don't know half as much about you as I'd like to."

Telly

Telly blinked. "Oh! Well alright, that sounds fun."

He grinned and kissed Alastor again. "Alright, go for it. First question."

Alastor

"Okay! This list here has about two hundred questions and I narrowed them down to only the ones I want to know the most about you—so, naturally, I have over a hundred." He laughed and scrolled through the list. "Let's see, let's start with an easy one—Do you prefer living in the countryside, in a town, or in a big city, and why? I know you've moved around some, and it's hard to tell how an airship counts."

Telly

"Hmm," Telly said, stroking his chin as he pondered.

"I do enjoy city life, with all the people-- we as long as I can separate myself from the majority of them. But I adored my time in Dover when I was alive. The crashing of the sea as I worked was a great focus."

Alastor

"So away from all the city noise, down by the seashore?" He considered that. "We'd have to move a few rings to find a proper shore—how do you feel about prerecorded ocean sounds? I think I can swing that much!"

Telly

"I do like those, it's always fascinated me how they could replicate things like that."

Alastor

"So do I! Sound effects in general are an under-appreciated art! I've got a wide variety of things I listen to to fall asleep, and background sounds like that are high in the list!" His smile turned sheepish. "Or—used to be, anyway. Nowadays I usually listen to you instead."

Telly

Telly blinked. "Listen to me? My heartbeat?" He tilted his head.

Alastor

"And your breathing." He is, in fact, still capable of being a little self-conscious about his moments of sappiness.

Telly

Telly glanced away and for the million and first time he was glad he no longer blushed. "That is....very sweet and romantic, love."

Alastor

"Oh, is it!" He looked a *little* less sheepish. "Here I was worried it might be a bit too much."

Telly

"No, darling, the fact that you fall asleep to the sound of my heart and breathing is definitely not 'too much'." He smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

"Well, next question, yes?"

Alastor

"Well, when you put it *that* way, it sounds charming." He returned the kiss. "Next question!" He handed the phone over to Telly. "Your turn to pick one. Interview the hell outta me. I'm ready for my closeup."

Telly

Telly took the phone and inspected the list of questions, humming softly.

"Hmm, let's see..." He scrolled down. "How about this one. 'What is the most thrilling-slash- adrenaline seeking thing you would consider doing?'"

Alastor

"Oh! Well? Hm." A pause. "Is that counting things I've already done, or only things I haven't tried yet?"

Telly

"I think only things you haven't tried yet." Telly read over the question again. "Yes."

Alastor

"Oh, well then!" He tipped his head back while he thought. "You know, I've always thought skydiving sounded fun! But it's hard to find an instructor and pilot that I didn't think would get me splatted on the sidewalk because they were too terrified of me to do their jobs right." His eyes lit up. "Say, this thing doesn't get high enough for skydiving, does it?"

Telly

"I don't think so." He laughed, shaking his head. "But if you ever want me to toss you out to give you a briefer experience, let me know."

He paused, humming again. "Now I'm curious, though, what was the most thrilling thing you already did?"

Alastor

"I'll keep it in mind!"

He winced. "Oh, I talked myself into that one. And here I didn't even get to the question about relationship dealbreakers first. But, uh... hunting people for sport?" He laughed self-consciously. "I kept meaning to bring it up, but there's really no easy way to work that into a conversation."

Telly

"You did mention something about being out there to kill when you died. So, you hunted people?" Telly's tone stayed completely casual-- this was Hell and he'd been here a while, one got used to most things.

Alastor

He hadn't *thought* it was going to be a problem, considering what Telly was up to when he died, and considering everything Alastor got up to that Telly already knew about—but you never really knew how someone was going to react. And if Alastor knew anything about mass murderers, it was that depending on their motives or methods, they couldn't even get respect from other mass murderers. "People and deer, usually. But by the end, the deer were mainly a consolation prize and an excuse to get close to the real prey."

Telly

"I see." He stroked his chin. "How many do you think you killed? Did any get away that you know of?"

Alastor

"Oh, only two or three dozen tops," he said modestly. "I'd have to ask how many the infernal treasury credited me with, but even that number wouldn't be quite all of them. There's a few I shot and left that I never saw show up in the papers, so they might have got away, but none I know for sure. "

Telly

"Hm! Well, no wonder you wanted a hunter rifle for your present." He grinned and laughed. "Alright, next question for me."

Alastor

"That's it?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "You know, I always kind of thought that one would generate more discussion. Huh." He turned back to the list of questions to scroll through—and picked up another snack to feed Telly while he looked for a question. "Here's an intriguing one—what are you deliberately ignoring, even though you know you should deal with it?"

Telly

Telly took the offered snack with his mouth. He hummed, thinking as he chewed.

"I don't think that I'm deliberately ignoring anything right now?" He squinted, and his head tilted. "So, only unknowingly ignoring, then." He chuckled.

Alastor

"Well, tell me something you're unknowingly ignoring!" He said, like a little shit.

Telly

"Obviously, I don't know what those are, Alastor." He rolled his eyes.

Alastor

"No? You're positive?" He grinned impishly. "Well, all right! No skeletons in your closet, I suppose!" He passed the phone back. "But next time I'll get something interesting out of you."

Telly

"Yes, yes, next time." He took the phone back and scrolled through again. "Hmm, how about this: What calms you down the most?"

Alastor

"Oh." A long pause. And then a tiny wince and a mumble, "Do you know what ASMR is?" It's worth noting that he's more self-conscious over this than the serial killing.

Telly

"Vaguely. But tell me more about it." He leaned in, grinning malevolently.

Alastor

Ahem. "*Well.* When I was alive, and we were all still trying to figure out what to *put* on the radio, some of the earliest programs were, just... musical programs with sort of a vague plot narrated between them. And when I say 'vague,' I mean 'today John Doe is driving into town, let's play a bunch of songs about farms and meadows and bridges because that's what he's driving past.' And I appreciated those plotless little shows. But they weren't too popular—people wanted more stories in their stories, so they went away." He was going somewhere with this, really. "And then a little after I died, shows really started pushing the envelope with what they could do with the *sound* on radio, you know, with sound effects and the like, getting really experimental with it. And I tell you, I ate that up! I probably spent most of the forties with headphones practically glued to my head—and this was before they started offering the high-quality headphones for sinners that don't have their ears on the sides of their heads! And uh, that—that's more or less what ASMR is. Like those early shows with nearly-plotless plots, with the music taken out and copious sound effects to support the plot instead. That's... that covers most of the appeal." He did NOT make eye contact and he WAS embarrassed.

Telly

Telly blinked. Well. He hadn't realized that was such an in depth topic. He sat quiet as he processed a moment and then nodded.

"So you like it because it feels familiar?"

Alastor

"Not exactly, no—more because it... has those things I already liked." Mumble, "And it makes my ears tingle." Mumble mumble, "And sometimes it's nice to pretend I can get a haircut from somebody who isn't afraid to look me in the eyes."

Telly

Telly smirked, leaning against him. "Well, sometime you'll have to show me one."

Alastor

"Really?" His brow wrinkled. "Well—alright. But fair warning, I've probably oversold how interesting it is. I mean—the people who are interested in it find it interesting, but..."

Telly

"I at least would want to hear it once, just because you like it so much." He kissed Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

"Oh... sure, then. I'll see what I can find for you." He returned the smooch. "I'll try to avoid the more esoteric ones."

Telly

"Yes please, darling." He purred. "Next question?"

Alastor

"You know... I think I want to ask you one that you asked me." He grinned. "What's the most thrill-seeking thing *you'd* do?"

Telly

"Thrill-seeking...." He pondered that for a moment, finger tapping his chin again.

"Probably seems typical for me, but I think it would be a great thrill to finally attack Vox."

Alastor

"Hah! Put *that* one at the top of the list! Oh, I hope that by the time we go for him, he's so outmatched that he's *boring*."

Telly

"Yes, we can hope!" He laughed, grinning wider.

Alastor

He tugged Telly in to plant a firm kiss on his cheek. "I just love when we're on the same page."

Telly

Telly purred, turning to kiss Alastor's lips. "I love _you_," he muttered, wrapping his arms around him.

Alastor

"I love you, too." It's something he still has to practice saying without his breath shuddering; sometimes there's still a little static hitch. But it's coming more easily.

Telly

There was still a thrill that went through him, hearing Alastor say it back-- a thrill that made him beam and kiss him all the more. He sighed happily against his lips, cuddling close.

Alastor

He slid an arm around Telly's waist, holding him closer, humming along to the love song in the movie as he kissed Telly.

Telly

Telly let the kiss keep going for a while, before pulling back, a grin on his face. "I also love kissing you."

Alastor

"I think I've developed a taste for it myself." Understatement.

Telly

He laughed. "Yes, it seems you have." He leaned in for another kiss.

Alastor

He wasn't about to get any complaints from Alastor. Just a hungry return kiss.

Telly

Telly pushed closer, arms and tail coiling tightly around him. He pulled back after a time, and giggled.

"Oh, look at us, making out during a picture show like teenagers!"

Alastor

"Ha! I never made out at the picture shows as a teenager!" He paused thoughtfully, then added, "And as a teenager *you* never went to a picture show. But what's time to the dead?" He laughed. "I wouldn't have enjoyed it then, anyway."

Telly

"We simply must get the teenage experiences we never had! Even if they are ones that we wouldn't have had otherwise!" He laughed, kissing over Alastor's face.

Alastor

He laughed as he was smothered in kisses. "I didn't *want* that teenage experience! Do you know, *do you know* how *hard* it is to ask a gal you're friends with if she'd like to see a show with you, and then actually *see the show*? There I am, early twenties, with some dame desperate to introduce me to her lips, trying to watch Mister Buster Keaton, and—and..." His laughter momentarily overtook his ability to speak. "I should've taken a cobra to the movies. Do you think they'd have let me? Just escorted one on a day trip from the Bronx Zoo?"

Telly

"No, I don't think so. A python, maybe." He grinned and laughed, nuzzling close to Alastor. "But just think, you can take _this_ cobra to a picture show!"

Alastor

"I certainly can! And you're a better conversational partner!" He pulled Telly deeper into the nuzzle. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather ignore a movie with."

Telly

Telly grinned wider, chuckling against Alastor's neck. "Mm, I think we lost track of the questions sometime around the second kiss, but I certainly don't mind, do you?"

Alastor

"No, not terribly." He kissed Telly near start of his hood. "Although I'd like to loop back around to that sooner or later. There's *so much* I want to ask you, and I feel like we never get to talk enough."

Telly

"Hmm," Telly hummed, sitting up, but taking Alastor with him. He situated him on his lap and grinned. "How about one asks a question and the other has to answer whilst being kissed?"

Alastor

"Ooh. You know, that *does* have its appeal." He straddled Telly's tail, looped his arms over Telly's shoulders, and pressed their foreheads together. "*However...* not to be the cliché libidoless talk show host we all know I am, but—I really do want to *talk* with you. Without the conversation playing second-string to a distraction." He offered a crooked, uncertain smile. "If that doesn't sound too boring for you? I don't want to hold you hostage in a conversation you've lost interest in, mind."

He was still hesitant, still self-conscious whenever what Telly was looking for physically was less than what Alastor was currently looking for. It was easy enough to say "no" when he was flat-out uncomfortable with an activity; he could even let himself think that he was giving Telly an opportunity to be gallant by graciously reigning in his own desires for Alastor's comfort. He felt less sure of saying "no" when he was simply not terribly excited by the idea at the moment. He felt like he was the one giving up the opportunity to be gallant. It was a new quandary for him, and he didn't enjoy his own uncertainty.

But thus far honesty had never steered him wrong with Telly, so he'd tell the truth first and figure out the rest later.

Telly

Telly purred as their foreheads pressed together, and then gave Alastor a squeeze. "Of course. We can just talk. As long as you don't mind if I simply _must_ occasionally interrupt you because the urge to give you a kiss is _unbearable_."

He leaned back to dramatically press the back of his hand to his forehead, before cracking open an eye and grinning. He readjusted himself to be snuggled back in close.

"I forget whose turn it is, so why don't you start us off again."

Alastor

Alastor's grin widened again, as much with relief as amusement. "Far be it from I to deny you if you're in such desperate need! Why, I might need one or two myself." And just to prove it, he planted a quick peck on Telly's forehead. "*I* kept track. We got off-topic because you said you wanted to take down ol' blockhead and I thought it was the most beautiful thing you said today. So it's your turn to ask one."

Telly

"Oh, alright." He looked around, finding the phone from where it had fallen in their kissing frenzy. He scrolled through it before making a face briefly.

"You know, there's something I've wanted to ask that's not on this list, and what better time than now?" Telly smiled, albeit sheepishly, turning to glance away as he worked up the nerve to ask his question.

"So, to preface this, I know when it comes to bedroom things, there are things you definitely do not want to do, one being me touching you in the--" He gestured vaguely to Alastor's crotch. "But I was wondering, what's your opinion on.....blow jobs?" He muttered the last word, looking away even harder.

Alastor

"Really? 'How do you feel about blow jobs,' they left that one off the list?" He squinted in exaggerated puzzlement at the phone. "How did they miss *that* one?" He tutted chidingly, then turned to Telly. "Giving or receiving? Or both? Or just as a general cultural phenomenon?"

Telly

"Well, I assumed that since you don't want me doing anything--" He gestured again to Alastor's crotch. "-- _down there_, that it would be giving."

~~He is still not making eye contact. He is not Looking.~~

Alastor

"Well... actually, I've been thinking about it." A dramatic pause. "And I'm still thinking about it."

Okay, now that he'd got the instinct to be a troll out of his system: "Here's the thing. Most available options, I've got clear opinions on and I don't have to wonder about them. Hand jobs? Sure, I've been giving them to myself for over a century, no problem with that. Anal? God hung a sign over that door that says 'exit only,' and while I'm perfectly happy to ignore that sign to sneak into a theater or a gourmet kitchen, I don't feel compelled to break into the back door of my sewage facility. And so on! But blow jobs, though?" He shrugged expansively, clueless.

"It's always looked disgusting, but that was when I was considering the prospect of all that hair and sweat and the crust of poor hygiene. None of that's a factor here. On the other hand, I generally don't stick things in my mouth I don't intend to chew and swallow—see, that sign on one end marked 'exit only' is accompanied by one on the other side that reads 'entrance only.' Kissing is fine, licking and nipping are fine, but the idea of sticking something in there and... *holding* it? Sliding it back and forth? It's..." He trailed off. "Well—neither good nor bad. Just... alien. I can't really imagine how it'd go."

He took a deep breath. "And of course, the fastest way to find out would be to go 'Well, whip 'em out, let me slobber on them and see how I like it!' But: I don't want to offer that if I don't already *know.* I don't want to get your hopes up just to find out in under ten seconds that I hate it and I'm never doing it again."

Telly

Telly listened, giving a small chuckle at Alastor's analogies. He pondered for a moment, his hand moving up to stroke at his chin. "Well, the thing is, how _will_ we know unless we try? That's a thing in science: you form a hypothesis and then conduct experiments to see if you're correct. You know that if something doesn't work out, or you _don't_ end up liking it or wanting to do it again, that's fine, yes? I'd rather us try and fail, than never try at all for only fearing the failure.

"Now, I'm not saying we jump right in and try it out right this very minute, but sometime in the future, why not give it a shot? The worst case is you don't like it, and then we know and we don't have to wonder anymore. Best case? We have another position we're both comfortable with.

"And stemming from that, if you don't like the idea of sticking the whole thing in, then there's always just licking-- or even eating me out, my slit where they're usually stored _is_, ah, capable of experiencing that as well. There's variations we could test. And if you don't like them either, no harm, no foul." He shrugged, one hand going to cup Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

"Don't scientists also do research first? To base their hypothesis on what they already know? I'm confident I could do more research." He leaned into Telly's touch, eyes sliding shut. "I'm... not ready yet." Which was embarrassing as all hell for him to admit—him, *Alastor* the *Radio Demon*, not ready for something. "I want to know that at least I haven't overlooked something obvious just because I rushed it. I—" he winced, "I don't consider myself a nervous person—but the thing is I don't want to be the least bit nervous while I've got a very delicate piece of equipment between my teeth."

Telly

"And that's fine, too. Like I said, we don't need to jump into it _right now_, or anything. We can wait until you're ready to try." He smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"Alright, I think it's your turn now."

Alastor

Kiss! "All right, what have we got here..." They were down in the relationship and sex questions. He scrolled a bit, barked out a "HA," gave Telly a shit-eating grin, and read, "How well do you think our sex drives match up?"

Telly

Telly blinked at the question-- before breaking into a fit of cackling. His head tossed back, his laugh was loud and echoed in the cavernous bridge.

Alastor

Alastor cackled along with him, so loud his voice took on a note of distortion as if blasting from an overburdened speaker, and he flopped off of Telly's tail and onto his side. "Pff—perfectly synchronized," he wheezed, "right?"

Telly

Telly wheezed as well, trying to get out his reply. "Oh yes, perfectly!" He flopped back, giggling manically.

Alastor

He tugged Telly down to pull him into a hug, even as he laughed. The fact that they could laugh about it was good. Even if they weren't in sync, at least they weren't in conflict. That was what mattered.

"Ahh... I'll find a real one, give me a second."

Telly

Telly's chuckles tapered off as he settled against Alastor, purring. "You're hilarious, you know that, right?"

Alastor

"*Thank* you!" Now here was a smile that could light up a room. "I know it, but I like to know you know it too." He scrolled through the list, looking for one of the more serious questions he'd wanted to ask. "What are some of your relationship goals?" He paused. "Besides blow jobs."

Telly

"Relationship goals?" He tilted his head, a confused frown on his face. "I'm...not sure? Does a relationship need _goals_? I'm happy to be with you, no matter what."

He considered for another moment. "I suppose...us being happy is a goal? Can that be a goal?"

Alastor

"Sure! It can be a goal! The most important one, I think!" He propped himself up so he could look at Telly more directly. "You're not planning all this too far ahead, are you? Besides our next raid or two and the next thing to build and a list of enemies for us to topple?"

Telly

His face scrunched briefly. "No, not too far in advance. That's where I got into....complications before, when it was all planning, no _doing_. I thought a different approach would work better this time around-- but that's about conquering, and not about _us_. Sure, my goals for Hell are important, but as long as you're by my side, I feel like....that part will go much more smoothly."

Alastor

His smile warmed at Telly's faith in him. "I think relationship goals and conquering goals overlap. Like, say, what if your goal was to conquer and rule Hell with me, but my secret little goal for us was to find a way we could permanently sneak out of Hell and live in the mortal realm? I *don't*, but just for example. Both those would affect which direction our relationship goes—so I think they'd count as relationship goals. And we'd be in trouble if we both assumed we'd get ours without talking to the other."

Telly

"That is true, I just thought that the question was more specifically about goals for our relationship by itself. But you're right! Life-- or rather, Death Goals also affect relationships!" He chuckled.

Alastor

"It could be." He looked at the question and shrugged. "Whatever gives us a more interesting answer, I think! So! I'll amend it: have any relationship goals or goal that'll affect our relationship?"

Telly

"Well, in that case, I have the goal of conquering Hell with you by my side!" He laughed, winking at Alastor.

Alastor

"You know, that's on my list, too!" He laughed as well. "Just the two for now, then? Keep it nice and simple?"

Telly

"Yes, for now!" He shrugged, taking the phone back to scroll through questions.

He hummed as he looked and then grinned wickedly. "Alright, here's one I like: 'What are some things you really like about me?'"

Alastor

"Oh! How much time do you have!" He laughed. "Where to start? I like that evil smile of yours!" He pecked Telly's lips. "I like how you embrace what got you damned, instead of either denying it or moping about it. I like your organ playing—and your dancing—and the way you move. I like how you can think up some insane contraption, go, 'let there be a freeze ray!' and behold, within a day there is. I like how when I look at all you can make, I really do believe that you're the one human who could beat gods and demons not by borrowing their tricks but just by being human. I like how much you enjoy my cooking. I like how you hum when you work. I like how passionate you are about your inventions. I like your taste in interior design. I like your laugh. I like watching you swim. Should I keep going?"

Telly

As Alastor spoke, Telly curled around him, his purr starting up. He coiled tighter and grinned wider, until he was beaming and his face looked near to breaking. He squirmed briefly and laughed.

"Heh! Is that all? Is there more? Please DO feed my ego!!"

Alastor

"Oh, fine, fine! I also like how megalomania looks on you when your ego's been fed! And that menacing rumble you get, low in your chest. And the way your body feels." He ran a hand down along Telly's tail. "And the color of your eyes. *And* your scales. And the fact that you're theatrical enough to keep up with me. And the way you'll dress up to go somewhere fun with me. And when I'm going a hundred miles an hour, you don't ask me to slow down, but go a hundred and five. And you enjoy torturing a prisoner or seeing a musical or burgling a mall all just the same. And you have terrific taste in weapons. And your idea of a good date is having a picnic over the grave of the man who mistreated you. And you've never been horrified by me, even when you damn well should be. And you have a sadistic streak that borders on a form of art. And you make my dead heart start again when you sing. And you can play string duets like it's nothing. And you mix your own fragrances."

Telly

Telly couldn't help the overly pleased look that grew on his face. He purred and pressed his face into Alastor's shoulder. "If I could blush, I'd be bright as a traffic light." He kept grinning against Alastor.

"Love you, dear..."

Alastor

"Love you, *mon roi.*" A smooch to the side of his head.

Telly

Telly nuzzled and then looked up to kiss Alastor's lips.

Alastor

He returned the kiss, broke it long enough to say, "—and your teeth—" and went back in.

Telly

That little addition earned him a nip, and a grin against his lips.

Alastor

He nipped Telly back, chest trembling with silent laughter. Maybe he should start keeping a list. Make sure he remembered to tell Telly about every item on it at least once.

Telly

He laughed, too, giving another nip. He squeezed Alastor with tail and arms.

"One of these days, I'm going to make you blush like you make me."

Alastor

"I thought you said you couldn't blush." Alastor winked. "I'll look forward to that day! I'd better be red as a tomato!"

Telly

"You may not see it on my face, but you _know_ when you do, Alastor!" He chided playfully.

Alastor

"I might," he said innocently. "Tell me—was all that the answer you wanted to hear? I didn't leave out anything important, did I? There's just so much to try to remember!"

Telly

"Mm, no, I think you covered your bases pretty well," He said with a grin.

Alastor

"Good!" He beamed brilliantly. "I want to make sure you're feeling properly appreciated, after all!"

Telly

"You do, you do." He laughed, handing back the phone as he cuddled closer. "I think it was your turn now."

Alastor

"I think you're right!" He scrolled slowly through the list. "We just did a couple of relationship questions... So! What are some of your earliest memories?"

Telly

"Hmmm..." He sat back, taking Alastor's free hand with him as he pondered.

"I suppose it would be my mother overseeing the governess dressing me for some function when I was very young."

Alastor

"The governess! I don't think you've ever mentioned her." Although it made sense that a noble family had a house full of help, didn't it? "What was she like? Was she the one who taught you?"

Telly

"We had a number of them over the years-- never kept one too long, Father always said they got 'overly familiar' after a while." He shrugged.

Alastor

He had to take a moment to process that. "Is that code for 'he fired anyone who started to express concern for his children's well-being,' or 'he was sleeping with the help and fired them whenever he got caught'?"

Telly

"The former. There was one governess who was especially concerned about me, when I was, oh, six or seven, I believe? She went to my mother to speak with her about something regarding me, and the next day she was gone."

Telly snorted. "It's like they expected these women whom they hired to raise and teach their children to do so without becoming emotionally invested in said children."

Alastor

"Well, *they've* got no trouble regarding their children like vessels for their legacy instead of people, why is it so hard for someone they hired to do the same?" He shook his head. "You were already worrying people at six? What kind of trouble were you in?" He hoped it was the "already making dangerous inventions" variety rather than the "unusually miserable for a six-year-old" variety, but he wasn't getting his hopes up.

Telly

"I was either very quiet or very loud, I couldn't pay attention or I focused too hard on things, etcetera." He shrugged again. "The normal 'this child is not a neurotypical child' thing."

Alastor

"*There's* a five dollar word! You too?" Alastor laughed ruefully. "Funny thing, all my teachers said the same thing. Except *they* didn't get emotionally invested." He grimaced. "But then I wasn't a noble boy—I was just somebody's bastard."

Telly

"What, did you think the compulsion to create great machines of awe and destruction and take over the world came from the mind of someone who _wasn't_ afflicted with many neurodivergencies?" He chuckled.

"But yes, a few of them were worried, and a couple more tried the 'beat it out of him' method of fixing it."

Alastor

"There's a *six* dollar word. Does it include shocking inspiration and genius beyond any other human's capacity? Because I suspected that part."

Alastor sneered, his lip curling up to expose his teeth, as if contemplating sinking them into the throats of whichever governesses had dared pull such a stunt. "I'm familiar with *that* method." He shifted to kiss Telly's forehead. "I doubt it worked any better on you than it did on me."

Telly

"Yes, I believe so! It didn't work at all for me." He chuckled. "There were some better than others-- I really hated the one that used a switch." He shuddered.

Alastor

"Yard stick," Alastor said mournfully. "I think my mother would have murdered anyone who took a switch to me, but I wasn't friends with that yard stick."

Telly

"They would smack me when I focused too hard, and then when I couldn't focus at all-- it would send quite the mixed signals." He shook his head, and leaned in to kiss his forehead in return.

Alastor

A bitter laugh. "And for some reason they think the constant looming threat of punishment *helps* you focus!" Alastor shut his eyes to bask in the kiss.

"I don't suppose you've ever talked to a doctor about that, have you? I talked to one a couple of decades ago that said these days they think poor focus is a medical thing. They make drugs for that now."

Telly

"I haven't talked to any doctors, no, but I've done plenty of research on my own! After all, I like to think I'm smarter than most doctors who would end up in Hell!" He laughed.

"I've figured out that I likely had ADHD and a random assortment of co-morbid disorders, such as anxiety, depression, possibly mild OCD, and anger issues!" He seemed proud of that-- the fact he'd been able to suss all that out.

Alastor

His eyes lit up. "Oh! You too!" A pause. "The ADHD part, I mean." Says the man with depression oozing out of every pore. "Why, I should have guessed! Look at us, two peas in a pod!" He'd never thought discovering he has the same extremely specific mental condition as someone else would ever be something so *delightful*, but here he was. "Do you *want* drugs for that? I know a reliable adderall dealer."

Telly

"I've tried a few, they don't work right for me-- or at least, I don't like how they work for me." He shrugged again, and then smiled.

"I had an inkling that we might share that, though!"

Alastor

"I can't say I'm *surprised.* I should have suspected it when I learned how often you skipped meals to keep working." He tilted his head. "I've got a recipe for a focus potion I could teach you? All natural except for the ritalin, but we can leave that ingredient out if you don't like how it affects you." The ritalin may, in fact, have been the part that made the focus potion work. (When he said "all natural" that description was including the cocaine.)

Telly

"We could try it-- but mostly, I've found ways to manage without, mostly. I'd be game for trying, though." He smiled. "Is the focus potion what you use to keep yours in check?"

Alastor

"It helps! Potions, drugs—and I've been told *coffee* helps too, although I never would have made the connection myself." He shrugged. "I was about a hundred when I got a diagnosis, I'm sure by now all my tricks to 'keep it in check' are so intrinsic to my life I'll never realize that's what I'm using them for! What about you, what are your 'ways to manage' it?"

Telly

"Mostly using the Eggs to help me remember to do essential things, but otherwise letting my focus run its course. Of course, that doesn't always work, as you know."

Alastor

"Oh! Yes, of course—I delegate all my 'essential things' to my little shadow helpers. I don't have to remember to do it if someone else is doing it."

Telly

"Exactly! It's one reason I made the Eggs in the first place!" He laughed.

Alastor

"Someday, I hope you'll teach me *how* you made them, because I'm just dying to know." He had a hard time believing magic hadn't been involved.

Telly

"It was a little of this and that, and some other things." He shrugged.

Alastor

"Uh-*huh.*" A smirk. "All right. Keep your secrets. I'll dig them out some other night."

Telly

"Yes, some other night." He grinned back.

"My turn now, though." Telly took the phone back and scrolled through. "Hmmm, 'What habits do you still have from childhood?'"

Alastor

"Huh..." He thought a moment. "This is a cheat, since we were talking about it earlier, but I can't fall asleep without listening to something. First my mother singing to me, then a record player, then radio. And now you." He gave Telly a crooked grin. "But that's not fair, you could have guessed that one! Uh... crunching leaves, splashing puddles... singing and dancing at people who didn't ask for it... counting on my fingers... humming... reading on the toilet..."

Telly

"All of those are very cute, save for the toilet one." He chuckled, giving Alastor a squeeze. "Did the seasons change enough in Louisiana for crunching leaves, though?"

Alastor

"Sure! Not as spectacularly as you get up north, maybe, and we've got some stubborn trees that don't have the sense to drop their leaves in the winter—but they change! Usually, oh..." He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Sometimes by Halloween—every year I'd hope they would—but not always. Usually by December, though. Brown leaves all over the sidewalks." He opened his eyes again. "I'd see prettier foliage on hunting trips from time to time, especially in parishes farther north. The trees were bare where I died, I remember that."

Telly

Telly listened, his mind running ahead a mile a minute. "Is red your favorite color?"

Alastor

"I don't make it *too* obvious, do I?" He laughed.

Telly

"Was it always your favorite? Or did that change over time?"

Alastor

He thought. "It's almost always been red! Crimson, particularly. But ruby too. Green was my favorite for a bit in my twenties, and I have phases where I just can't get enough of yellow and gold, but I always come back to red." He beamed at Telly, "Guess why I like yellow."

Telly

Telly laughed and flared one side of his hood, grinning. "I think I know why. But that's interesting! Red and yellow are both fall sorts of colors, but green! That's different. Green is more spring!"

He paused and shrugged. "I don't know what it means, but it's interesting!"

Alastor

"It makes me think of summer, actually! Not pale fresh greens but those rich, warm greens." Shapes in lights appeared above him, aimless spirals as he tried to wrestle their hue away from his magic's typical red and into the greens he was thinking of; after a few attempts, he managed several spirals in shades of emerald and basil and moss and olive and hunter green.

Telly

"Ah, yes, I do like those greens! You know what those shades of green go well with?" He flared his hood again, grinning. "Gold! I've always been fond of that combination, green and gold, and along similar lines, blue and silver-- they're pairs that are rarely made because one sees more red and gold than green and gold. Blue and silver is a more common occurrence, though, but still rarer than using red, I think."

Alastor

He summoned up the swirls of color again, letting them hover around Telly's face in front of his hood. "You're right! Have I ever seen you in green? I think your Mardi Gras dress had some green, didn't it, but that was more of a blue-green. I'd like to see a real vivid green on you." He reached up to lightly, almost absentmindedly run a finger along the edge of Telly's hood. "What are your favorite colors overall? I'm guessing gold's right up there."

Telly

"Yes, that was more of a pale teal than a true green-- a sea green, as the theme would have it." He chuckled, head tilting, one half of his hood folding back to allow the motion.

"Gold, black, blue, green-- I became fond of the particular shade of pink that my eyes are after death, but before then, I stuck to deep saturated and rather dark colors."

Alastor

"You know, *I'm* fond of that particular shade of pink, too!" And then he had to look at the color to remind himself of why he liked it, and then he was just staring into Telly's eyes. Wow. He had pretty eyes. What were they talking about?

Telly

With Alastor staring into his eyes, he couldn't help but stare back at Alastor's, and he found himself saying, "You know, I think I've become rather fond of brilliant true red, as well...."

Alastor

"Yeah?" Eloquent. It took him a second to remember the topic. "I should hope so, considering I'm filling half your rooms with red these days." He slid his arms around Telly's shoulders. "We should have a green room..." Aaand pulled him down into a kiss. He distracted himself with all that deep eye contact.

Telly

He was more than happy to be distracted by kisses, the eye contact got to him, too. He squeezed Alastor, nipping his lips.

Alastor

He nipped back, eyes sliding shut, melting into the constrictive embrace. Who needs Heaven when he can get this in Hell.

Telly

Telly lingered in the kiss, lazy and slow, before he pulled back. "Mm, it's fascinating how many different ways one can find to kiss someone."

Alastor

"Isn't it?" His eyes opened a slit, and for a moment he eyed Telly's lips contemplatively. It would be very easy to just keep going... But they'd have time enough for that later, and his desire to keep talking to Telly was stronger. (When wasn't it?) "That time, I think I really did lose track of whose turn it is."

Telly

"I believe it's yours. I was the one who started us off on a tangent after you answered one." He smiled, nuzzling against Alastor's cheek, pressing little kisses along his jaw.

Alastor

"Right! Uh—" Oh he's distracted again. He tried to focus on his phone over Telly's shoulder. "What—what's something we could do to bring us closer together as a couple?" A pause. "Besides blow jobs."

Telly

Telly paused as well, face nuzzled against Alastor's, lips still there against his skin as he spoke. "Mm, I think what we're doing right now? Just...talking about things, enjoying being with one another. Maybe a few more couple bonding murders..." He laughed.

Alastor

"Ooh, more murders. I like the sound of that." He nuzzled Telly back. "What else? Something we're not already doing. I—feel like we've only just begun and there's room for us to do so much more."

Telly

"Honestly? I'm not sure! I may have more experience than you, but only by a fraction," He said, humming against Alastor's skin.

Alastor

That hum traveled down Alastor's neck and up the side of us head. His brain is jelly. "Well—think on it and let me know, would you? I want to do more for you. And with you."

Telly

"I will," He said, chuckling. "My turn?" He hummed again. "Alright, how about the same question: is there something you can think of that would bring us closer as a couple?"

Alastor

"Hell. You already took murder, what does that leave me with?" He laughed, then trailed off thoughtfully.

After a moment, he said, "I'd like if you asked me more questions about me. I know that's what we're doing now, but—in general. When I ask you about your beliefs, ask about mine. When I tell you I hunted humans for sport—ask why I did something crazy like that. If—if you want to know, I mean." Implicit: *you do, don't you?*

"I know we both know I never shut up, so I could just *tell* you, but... I prefer to be asked. I like to know you want... more of me than just my surface level. I'm still an entertainer, you know—I react to what my audience shows interest in."

Telly

Telly listened, lifting his head as he tilted it in thought. "Okay. I think I can do that. Generally, I don't....ask more because I don't want to pry."

He winced, looking away. "Another bad habit George instilled in me, I think."

Alastor

Alastor laughed in disbelief, "You mean he wasn't taking every opportunity to talk about himself? Color me surprised!" But then he'd probably just wanted Telly to be quiet. *Shut up and look at the stars.*

"Well, unlike *George*"—he said the name like an insult—"I *want* to know you, and I want *you* to know *me.* So if you wonder, you can ask. And I'll let you know if you ask something I can't talk about."

Telly

Telly smiled, softly and shyly at first and then with more confidence. "Okay. I will."

He let out a breath. "Did you ever tell me how you got started in radio?"

Alastor

Alastor beamed. "I don't think I did! It was in '24! I'd realized that New York didn't have what I was looking for, and I was looking for an excuse to go back to New Orleans, when my mother mentioned in a letter that a new station was going up and they were looking for somebody with a cultured accent to announce the evening orchestras. Well, I knew my way around a hobby radio kit, so I paid to make a long-distance call to the station manager, read off the first paragraph of a musical review in my best Broadway stage voice, and asked him, 'How about that, is that the voice you're looking for?' He hired me sight unseen!" He laughed. "I told myself it would be a fine part-time job until I could get in with a jazz band or a vaudeville troupe, something like that, but... I think part of me knew even then."

Telly

Telly smiled brightly. "Sounds like destiny to me. Now, when did you start killing? It was after going back to New Orleans, correct?"

Alastor

"When I started killing seriously, yes. I'd committed one murder before then, and..." A thoughtful squint. "Well, I *might* have got some Germans, but I don't know for sure. They don't exactly call you from across no man's land to congratulate you on your shot."

Telly

Telly's head tilted again, curiosity piqued.

"Who was your first? Kill, that is."

Alastor

"My racist grandfather who taught me the word 'bastard' when my father wasn't listening." He smiled grimly. "'Hunting accident.' *Very* tragic."

He nodded at Telly, "Who was *yours*? Was your attack on London the first time, or did you get a taste for it before then?"

Telly

"First that was fully intentional? My...business partner. He wanted to pull the funding for my work. I killed him and wrote letters to keep the money flowing."

Alastor

"Your *business partner*? You had a business partner? Who was *he*?" Alastor paused. "No, wait—'fully intentional'?" He paused again. "No no wait, tell me about the business partner first!"

Telly

Telly's face scrunched, and then flattened, and then scrunched again, as if he was trying to decide if what he was about to say was terrible, hilarious, embarrassing, or all three.

"He was Olivia's father. He saw potential in me, which is why he agreed to the engagement in the first place."

Alastor

His eyebrows went up. "Her *father.* Your—your friend's father! George's father-in-law. Him. Were you writing letters as him to *them*?"

Telly

Telly nodded, and let out a manic sort of laugh. "Yes! I made assurances everything was fine, that he was staying in Dover for a time as the sea air did him good, that sort of thing. Never suspected a thing."

Alastor

He blinked, an amazed smile on his face. "To your *own friend.* Oh, that's *cold.*" He laughed, pulling Telly into a quick kiss. "Did they ever find out anything had happened before you died?"

Telly

"To be honest, I wasn't thinking about her when I did....any of it. But no, she never knew until after my death."

Alastor

"She must have had a miserable time after you died, poor thing." He shook his head sympathetically—not *too* sympathetically, but he wasn't going to make fun of her when he knew Telly had actually cared about her. "Was it your airship you were working on when he tried to pull his money?"

Telly

"Yes. I'd hired a good few people to work on it day and night, and we were so close to finishing....though, 'close' was more like 'another two years', but back then that was _very_ close!" He laughed.

Alastor

"For something that size, first of its kind? I should say so! What made him want to pull out?"

Telly

"Well, that leads back to them, uh..._unintentional_ deaths. You see, I did not care for workplace safety." He chuckled.

Alastor

"*Ha!* I see! No surprise, having them work on it day and night!" He cupped Telly's cheek in a hand. "Did your callousness frighten him, my darling?"

Telly

"That and the, ah, _amount_ of men who died." He beamed.

Alastor

Alastor hooted. "You even sound *proud*! Were you proud at the time, or did you have to learn to be?"

Telly

"At the time, I was unconcerned. Mostly still am. They died so that my vision became a reality! It wasn't shameful-- their deaths had purpose!"

Alastor

"And a hell of a vision it was!" Although it might explain why apparently one of them had done slipshod work on the pipes; but pointing that out might sound like a criticism instead of an observation.

Telly

"Yes, well, Lord Everton was considerably disappointed in what he called a 'lack of safety' and 'lack of progress'. But I dealt with that."

Alastor

Alastor scoffed. "Oh, and what kind of progress was *he* expecting on the world's first flying ship? Did he think he'd be sailing it over the English Channel in three months?"

Telly

"_He_ thought it was to be just a submersible!" He laughed. "And he thought five years was more than a generous amount of time for it."

Alastor

"You didn't tell him it was going to *fly*? Why, I thought that would be a selling point!" He had no idea how long it was supposed to have taken to make a submarine in the late 1800s, so he couldn't comment on *that * part.

Telly

"Well, at first, it _wasn't_ but then I changed the blueprints a number of times and it just became an airship, too." Telly shook his head. "I was frantic and possessed by my genius."

Alastor

A strange look crossed Alastor's face. "Sounds like it must have been one hell of a time. In both good and bad ways." He almost said more, but paused, waiting to see if Telly had more to add to the story.

Telly

"It was, certainly, it was." He nodded and sighed, leaning against Alastor.

Alastor

He rubbed Telly's back for a moment, thoughtfully; then said, "That's probably how I would have described myself as a murderer toward the end. *Frantic and possessed.* Not by genius—and certainly not by something *forcing* me to kill—but I was... trying to make something." He said the words slowly, choosing them carefully. "I needed to take something inside of me and create it in the real world, and I couldn't stop until I succeeded." He looked at Telly searchingly, seeing whether he understood.

Telly

Telly locked eyes with Alastor, and nodded slowly. "Yes. I wanted to leave something behind, something grand, and it didn't matter what got in my way. Nothing was too high a cost for trying to complete _this thing_. I suspect it was a little different for you, with your killing, but....I thing the feeling was probably the same."

Alastor

"I wasn't trying to leave something behind, but I was trying to... *be* something, or—or *do* something, and I wouldn't be *complete* until I'd done it. By the time I died, it was almost the only thing that mattered." He took a deep breath. "It's like a forest fire, isn't it? There's nothing as beautiful as that blazing light, but it consumes everything in you."

Telly

Telly found himself nodding on instinct, and then when he realized what he was doing, he nodded more vigorously. "It starts like a spark and then just grows and grows until the blaze is all there is, and it's terrible and beautiful and you can't help but just....let it consume you."

Alastor

"And then you burn out. And then you're dead. And what have you got for it but the ashes of the life you could have lived if you hadn't kindled that obsession?" He gave Telly a sad smile. "Still. I wish I'd seen you when you blazed. I'll bet you were glorious."

Telly

"Sometimes you burn out even after death. I was still riding that blaze long after I think. At least, until..." He trailed off.

"I'm sure you could find old newspapers or broadcasts of my glory days in Hell, if you wanted."

Alastor

"Oh, I *plan* to! The only reason I haven't been devouring every article ever written about you is because I've had to read how to repair pipe organs first!" He smirked cheekily for a moment; but the mood wasn't right for that, and the smirk faded.

"I only *blazed* for... oh, I don't know, it might have been as short as my first day in Hell. Just long enough to ruin everything." He huffed. "Sure, I *really* crashed and burned a few decades later, but that was different. That had nothing to do with the murders. I think the old obsession's still smoldering, but—it doesn't consume me like it used to."

Telly

"Yes, there's something about dying and then falling from grace that does that, isn't there? I was flying high until-- that....incident. And then that failure tempered my drive...or squashed it, more like..."

Alastor

Alastor nodded thoughtfully. "Would you go back to that frantic and possessed feeling if you could?"

Telly

Telly thought for a long moment. "...No. No, I don't think I would. That fire and drive were intoxicating, but it didn't leave room for anything else. It was all just....the creation of it."

He turned to smile at Alastor, pressing his hand to his cheek. "I have things now that I want to have plenty of room for."

Alastor

He smiled crookedly back. "I don't think I would, either. I think I'm too old for serial killing now. I get tired just thinking of the kind of schedule I used to keep." He laughed wearily.

"... What if that's what it takes to conquer Hell, though?" He placed his hand over Telly's. "If I see you pushing yourself into obsession, do you want me to pull you back? Or do you want me to come with you?"

Telly

He considered that for another long moment. "I'm not sure. I don't have an answer right now-- I think that's a 'we'll cross that bridge when we come to it' sort of thing. But whatever the answer, I'm glad you'll be with me." Telly leaned in for a kiss.

Alastor

He accepted the kiss and held it for a moment, then drew back and pressed his forehead to Telly's. "We don't need the answer tonight—but I'd like to have it before we reach that bridge. Once we get there, I imagine pulling you back from the brink would take a fight. Better to know *before* then whether you want me to try."

Telly

"Yes....yes, you're right. It's just such a vast sort of question, because how are we to know the circumstances that would surround such a second descent?" He took a breath. "It would be complicated. But I don't think I'll go there again-- when I went there in life, it was from a very dark place, and the obsession became everything. I don't think I'd be able to get to that place again without something....drastic."

Alastor

"For now we'll call that a soft 'no', how's that? But we'll play it by ear. We can talk it over more in the future."

Telly

"Yes, I think that would be best." He laughed, leaning against him.

Alastor

Alastor adjusted his arms around Telly—and then, during the brief lull in the conversation, glanced at the movie. "... How long has that been off?" He laughed.

Telly

Telly blinked and looked over as well. "Goodness, I don't know. We talked through the whole thing!" He laughed.

Alastor

"And you know, I bet we had twice as much fun as we would have watching the movie!" All the same, he started quietly playing the soundtrack—to make up for not hearing it the first time. "Well, what now? The night's still young."

Telly

"Well, we still have food. And we could put on another movie if you'd like, and this time watch it." Telly chuckled. "I'm ready for whatever you wish, darling, I just want to keep holding you."

Alastor

"We *do* still have food." He grabbed a couple crostini, popped one in his mouth, and offered the other to Telly. "Oh, I don't know if I could pay attention to another movie—but I like this 'keep holding you' idea, I think we ought to do something with that."

Telly

Telly accepted the snack and smiled. "Yes, that would be good. Maybe some more kisses, too."

Alastor

"Do you know what I think about *that*?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled Telly into a deep kiss.

Telly

Telly's eyes flashed wide for a moment before he melted into the kiss. What a night this had been.

Alastor

What a night indeed. Alastor nipped at Telly's lip and pressed closer against him; yes, he could happily stay right here the rest of the night.

[asktheheirofslytherin]

[[OOC: Putting most of this one under a read more because it is very, very long. ]]

"Killing your father is not the greatest decision that you have made, Professor. It would mean that you have held a grudge against him for leaving you and your mother. It would also mean that you have at least pitied your mother for going through that and becoming mad at him for not being there for you, furious at your mother falling in love with that horrendous man. " Thirteen said absentmindedly before sighing.

"Don't mind about what I said." She told him as she waved it off.

She clenched her jaw and glared at him when asked about killing them.

"I may be powerful, Riddle, but I do not kill people without any real reason behind it. Yes, they may have tortured me throughout my childhood but I do not want to wish it upon anyone, not to mention, if I ever did kill them then it would mean that I have lowered myself to be at their level! I'm lucky and surprised that they have let life this long. Other escapees have tried to escape but they would always die. A miracle you would say for what happened to me yet a curse at the same time." She snapped at him unintentionally letting out a bloodthirsty aura, her eyes swirling red, her hair levitating a bit, and her mark glowing. She closed her eyes, let out a sigh as she relaxed, and went back to normal before she stood up from the chair.

"I'm sorry that I snapped, sir. It was uncalled for." She told him as she bowed to him before she sat back to her chair, holding her arm that held the mark, rubbing it sheepishly.

"Him? Oh, you don't want to know Him. Cain is a different person than Him. Too different, some might say that He is the punisher and Cain is the sinner." She told him as she looked down. Not wanting to look at him for her childish outburst.

"I'm sorry for my outburst, Professor. This conversation has fallen deep than it should have." She told him before she looked at him. She stood up and teleported behind him.

"It's too bad that you wouldn't remember any of this, Professor." She whispered to him before she touched on the back of his head and used one of her powers using the blue eyes, making him close his eyes and sleep.

His body limped on the chair and was about to fall on the floor before she catches him with the levitating spell.

She touched his shoulder and she teleported him to his bedroom. She levitated him in his bed carefully and tucked him. She snapped her fingers and changed his clothes to his sleeping clothes before walking to him. She touched his forehead lightly to lock their conversation away and hypnotized his memories a bit to the situation before the conversation and she dismissed him and she went to her dorm while he went to his home and sleep.

She sighed and teleported away from his room, after leaving him a small vial of blue grace, letting the professor sleep and gave him dreams on his dreams coming true, and protecting him without any nightmares.

She teleported to her dorm with her blindfold on and changed her clothes. She put the notes in her binder and went to sleep as the sun started to rise.

She silently thanked God that tomorrow was a Saturday and has no classes. She needs to get to the bunker again and fast. Some more research has to be done. But first, she was needed somewhere else.

Thirteen may have arranged his memories and such. But emotions were harder to control and manipulate. So Riddle will always have a nagging feeling about having to talk to Thirteen tomorrow morning, that is if he can catch up to her.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was now Saturday morning and Thirteen had finished breakfast at the Great Hall. She walked to her dorm and waved her wand to reveal a fake floorboard beside her bed. She opened it and grabbed the backpack that was underneath it.

She concealed the board again then walked to the forbidden forest. She went deep inside the forest and then she saw the waterfall with some broken structures. Some of the structures had some unknown runes while some had sigils. For an average witch or wizard, they wouldn't recognize any of the drawings. But Thirteen did, how can she not if she was the one who put it there.

She was standing a few inches away before she put her hand in mid-air then the atmosphere started to gloss like it wasn't real, like it was a barrier. She smiled to herself and just went straight in.

She knew she was being followed again, she wasn't known for being discreet. She sighed but still kept walking towards a small cottage.

There was a little girl, with soft pale skin, black hair, and grey eyes and a little boy, with white hair, blue eyes, and pale soft skin who both looked to be 5 years old. They looked up to her and squealed as they ran to her, screaming, "Mama! Mama!"

She knelt and was tackled by her two loving kids.

"Hey, kids!" She told them with a laugh. She felt so carefree.

She kissed them both on their foreheads.

"Mama! When will you be staying with us again?" The little girl asked Thirteen.

"Summer is almost here, Constance." She replied to her with a pat on her forehead while her daughter smiled gleefully at her.

"Ma! After your school, can we go to France again?" The little boy asked her.

"Of course, Loki. Now that you mentioned school, how are you learning with Uncle Gabriel?" She asked the twins with a curious look in her eyes.

"We did good!" Loki told her with a grin.

"You two were the most mischievous and cunning little snakes!" A man with blonde hair and blue eyes said as he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

"Did you two do pranks to him again?" She asked them and they smiled sheepishly.

"I'll take that as a yes." She told them as she smirked at them.

"Hey, sis. Why do you have your blindfold on?" Gabriel asked her with an eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, about that, Gabes. Old habits die hard." She told him as she took it off before standing up and said to Gabriel, "Mm~ I smell something good. Did you cook fried chicken?"

"Yep and some adobo chicken and made some fruit salad."

"That sounds delicious! Come on kids, let's eat?" She asked her twins to which, to her surprise, shook their heads no.

That's odd, they would always jump at the word fried chicken.

"We want to play some more, mama!" Constance reasoned as Loki nodded.

"Hm... What about after eating I'll teach you some magical creatures?"

"Really?" Loki said to her with excitement in his eyes.

"Mhm, I learned about some new creatures from the books and professor,"

"Professor Riddle?" Constance said with her head tilted.

"Mhm." She said to her little angel.

"Yes! Professor Riddle is the best!" Loki said, jumping with glee.

"Really? Out of all the stories that she told you about her professors, you like Professor Riddle?" Gabriel asked the twins with a smirk on his face.

"Mhm! Oh, mom! Can we go meet him one day?" Loki asked his mother while Constance just nodded her head at her mother.

"Gee, I don't know. Professor Riddle is always busy with research and stuff."

"🥺" (←They did this look) This made the twins do the puppy eyes.

"Alright, I'll mention it to him later. Man, you two are so persuasive." Thirteen said to her kids as pinch their cute chubby cheeks.

'They're so cute and persuasive, damn. They might end the world with their cuteness,' She thought to herself.

"Yeah, after you explain about to these little twerps," Gabriel said to Thirteen as he walked to her.

"We're not twerps! You're just a jerk!" Constance retorted to Gabriel.

"Yeah!" Loki said as well. This made Thirteen and Gabriel laugh.

"Which reminds me, why do you like him so much?" She asked her twins curiously.

"I want to be like him when I grow up!" Loki reasoned to his mother.

"Makes sense since he is an interesting soul," Gabriel shrugged.

"I want to marry him," Constance said simply which made her mother's eyes go wide and Gabriel choke on his saliva suddenly making him cough.

"Why? You haven't seen him what he looks like, what if he had buck teeth?"

"I don't care, as long as he's mine! " Constance said a smile that made her mother worried, Loki says?" And Gabriel laugh.

"Great! My daughter is persuasive and possessive! What did you do, Gabriel?!" She said to Gabriel.

"Don't look at me! They're your kids! They came out of you! You should know that! And besides, it won't surprise me if she ever becomes a yandere." Gabriel said as he mockingly put his hands up in a surrender motion as he took a step back.

The mother and the twins looked at each other and tilted their heads at Gabriel.

Gabriel had his eyes wide and said, "Nope! Oh hell now! Just go inside and eat dammit. Food's probably cold now."

Then they went inside the cottage and ate some food.

---------

“Well of course I held a grudge,” Tom said, shrugging. “I do not see how the need for revenge could be a bad thing. The feel of the final act - the fear in the man’s eyes as I confronted him, raised my wand, let him comprehend what was about to happen-” Tom’s eyes glinted red for just a moment as he allowed himself to relish the memory - and then he recalled he was with a student. This was not appropriate in the slightest, he chided himself. “Anyhow,” he continued, shrugging. “I feel that more than enough of a good reason to kill, no? Ah, I suppose we are dissimilar. Perhaps for the best, then.” 

“Outburst? Oh, no, it is fine, and facinating - and perhaps even fair after my own indiscretio-” And then everything went dark. 

-

The following morning, with no memory of his late-night conversation with Thirteen, Tom ate his eggs with relative unease. He was not quite sure what caused this - he had a productive night working on research, then slept quite well - but he had a feeling he was forgetting something, needed to do something. He double and triple checked his calendar, both official and... extracurricular, but no, there was nothing. And so he scanned the Great Hall, eyes lingering on the Slytherin table. There had been a student he had to meet with. The odd girl, Thirteen. If only he could remember why. And he did not see her seated with her peers. Of course not. 

Still, he had seen her on weekends before, wandering the grounds, alone. Perhaps he would go for a walk after he ate, and if all went well, perhaps he would run into her.  

[domesticblisss]

Näher | Pt.04

Walter x Female Reader (Nicknamed ‘Hase’) Mob AU! Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1765 Warnings: Angst, fluff. Death mention, brief sex mention, jealousy, parental abuse mention. I guess that’s all? Tell me if you see something else. Summary: Walter wants to know what Hase thinks of him. Pt.01 | Pt.02 | Pt.03

After the incident with Axel, Walter has been less aggressive with everyone. He apologised to us and stayed away of our ways for a while. That following week, I only saw him at the office or at the club, when we were home, we had our meals at different times, if I was at the pool, he kept himself at the library or at his home office, he didn’t even seek me out at night, that week was the first time I properly used the bedroom he had designated for me when I first moved in.

Of course I didn’t let go so easily. That same week, on a friday, after we got home from the club, followed him to his bedroom and cornered him there, forcing him to talk to me. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hase.” “Walter, don’t play coy with me. You know what I’m talking about. You have been weird since the day Axel and I fucked.” I spoke a little too harsh with him. He sighed, rubbing his hands on his face. “I’m an idiot and I should leave you alone. You’re better off without me. You deserve to be with Axel, not an arschloch like me.” the defeated tone on his voice is just sad, I had never seen him like that. “Walter, right after Axel left the room, what did I say to you?” “That you would kill me if anything happened do Junior.” he answered in a monotone voice. “That’s not what I’m talking about, you know what I’m talking about.” I pressed on. He sighed before answering “You said we should talk, because that’s how things get solved. And that you loved me.” I smiled at him after hearing it. “Yes, yes I did. So, stop making decisions for me and talk to me when something is bothering you, okay? Now get in bed.” “Why?” “Get in bed.”

I gave him the blow job of his life.

Right now it’s 06am of a friday and the alarm is going off for another workday. This week was completely stressful, one of our fighting rings got busted and Walter has been on edge trying to restore it. I got up to turn off the alarm and get ready for the day. As soon as I sat to get up, I felt Walter’s long arms snake around me and a light kiss being pressed on the middle of my back. “Where do you think you are going?” he mumbled on the same spot where he kissed me. “It’s friday, liebling. We have to go to work.” “No, we don’t. We are getting the day off, we deserve it and everything is already taken care of. Now please, get back to bed.” So, I did, he held me close his chest, his breathing lulling me to sleep almost immediately.

I woke up to Walter nudging me a few hours later. “Schatz, wake up. C’mon.” “What time is it?” “It’s 09:02. Please sit up.” I sat on the bed and saw he had a tray filled with food. “Wait, am I getting breakfast in bed?” “Yes, breakfast in bed for meine königin.” He kissed my lips and continued “Don’t how good it all will be though. I did it all myself, so fire the chef if it’s horrible.” “I’m sure it’s all delicious.” And they were. Pancakes were fluffy, bacon crispy, the eggs just how I liked, and he even put a little cinnamon on the coffee.

We ate in silence for a while, his right hand running up and down my leg. After we finished, I asked him what he wanted to do for the day, and he said that he would love to spend the day in bed. And we did. I got a random Spotify playlist on playing soft music on the bluetooth system just as ambiance music, we climbed under the covers and just stayed there, enjoying each other’s presence.

 After a few minutes, Walter let out a question.

“What do you think of me?” I didn’t really get what he meant with it, getting up, I sat in front of him to look at him better. “What do you mean with what I think of you? You know I love you.” “Not like that. Me as a person. What you think of me as a person?” I looked at him almost panicking. “Walter... I–I just...” “It’s okay, liebe, be honest. Don’t be afraid. I really want to know.” “Look,” I sighed before continuing, “I’m not going to lie to you, I was so fucking scared when I first met you. That day on watch room at the club, I was terrified of you. My fight or flight response was on the whole time.” I let out a giggle “but somehow I was mesmerised by you. You’ve got this energy around you that sucked me in. For some reason I knew your pipe game was going to be good.” “Pipe game?” “Yeah, you know how to use your dick.” “Oh...” “Yeah, so where was I? Oh, yeah! So, you just don’t let people in. At least me, I know the guys know more about you than I do, well, of course they do, they’ve known you way longer, but anyway. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t let me in, and then something happens and you completely shut down, ignores everyone one or go on completely full rude mode. If something goes wrong or if you want to prove a point, you either make people uncomfortable, make them do something that will not sit right with them. For example, the thing with Axel and I. Yeah we’ve always had a tension going on that someday we would have had it figured out. But you thought your way was going to solve it all.” “You know you could’ve said no, right? I don’t want you do anything you don’t want to, any of you.”

“Oh, I know. I fucked Junior because I wanted and he wanted it too, he was just shocked that you came to it out of nowhere. But again, you can’t just make people do shit because you think it would be better for them, or because they did something wrong and you must prove a point to them. Talk to people. I know it’s hard for you, but sometimes just a few words go a long way.” He kept staring at me with those piercing steel eyes for a while after I finished my rant. His hand lifted up to my head, tangling his fingers on my hair, caressing my features. He sighed.

“You know, this business was my dad’s. I got it from him after he died. We had a rocky relationship and at first, I didn’t want to take over it. I hated him for most of my life. When my brother and I were kids, teenagers, if we did something wrong, he would beat the shit out us. I’ve lost count of how many scars I have because of him. I just carried this with me in all aspects of my life. I didn’t really have friends in school, people only got close to me because I would make favours for them, because I would buy them things and my life moved like this. They liked when I was angry, aggressive. They thrived on my bossing around, commanding and humiliating the people they didn’t like. To me that felt nice, felt right because I got the positive attention I never got at home. I was alone again when I refused to do something they asked me to or college got around and everyone went their separate ways. Not one call or text from them. Then I met the guys, they didn’t care about my money, didn’t care about who my family was and what we are capable of, they just accepted me for my own person. So, when my father died, after a lot of self-debate on whether or not I should accept my destiny, I asked them to join me, and here we are.” he stopped for a bit to breathe in some air and I had to look away from him to stop the tears I had been holding back from falling.

“Then you came in.” He started again. “At first I thought you were some invention from Axel’s mind because of how he talked about you. He never showed us a picture of you. That the day I saw you reading and drinking tea on your balcony, I finally understood him. I know the way I pursued wasn’t the best one, but I really don’t know better. You don’t take shit from anyone, you’re not afraid of getting on my face, that just draws me closer to you. I stand by what I’ve said to you before, if you want to get with any of the guys, you can. If I tell to do something you don’t want to, you’re more than free to deny it. If you get tired of all of this, if you don’t want to even see my face anymore, you can leave, and I’ll never go after you. I know I’m a prick, I know I’m a bastard and that I don’t deserve good things. I hate being this way.” Tears were rolling down my face by now, all I could do was hug him, hold him close to me as he did the same. We stayed like that for a little bit, me only getting up again so I could tell him what I was thinking.

“Look, you’re none of these horrible things you just said. All I see in you is a great guy that is worried about his friends, you just don’t have a conventional way of showing it. But if you are willing to change, I can help you with that, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.” “I love you too. Now, enough about this sad fest. Do you want to watch a movie or something” “Sure, you choose.”

I picked some dumb comedy on Netflix and got back to my place on his chest. His hand never left my body, caressing my skin all the time. We kept quiet, only laughing when something funny happened. It was around the second half of the third movie that I spoke up again.

“I’m gonna fuck Tim for real.” “What is it with you and this obsession for Timothy?” “Oooh, Timothy. What, you were the one that said I could fuck whomever I wanted.”

---

Translations: Arschloch: asshole Schatz: sweetheart Meine Königin: my queen

→

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

for the quiet night in ask: how did Grima make his way into your heart? And why do you ship him with Eomer? I've been meaning to inquire about this for long hehe (also I love your theme! think this is the first time I see it)

I am so sorry, you’re getting an ESSAY. 

I’ve been wanting to talk about my Grima feels FOR SO LONG. 

HE SNAKED HIS WAY INTO MY HEART. 

Um, tl;dr I have a soft spot for the bad guys who clearly have a complicated history with those they are opposing and I think Eomer/Grima have a fun opposites-attract dynamic and I love a good redemption story. 

I don’t touch on literacy and Grima in this because that’s strictly the films and it’s worthy of it’s own post entirely. 

-

I’m trying to think best how to break this all out, because it gets a bit long and rambly. I’m using both book and films for this, as a note. Since I tend to mash up different aspects of those Grima’s in my head, give the guy some eyebrows, and call it a day. 

So, first off, his history. Now, we don’t really have anything to go on in canon here. All we know, in both book and film, is that Grima “was once a man of Rohan” (ROTK). In the book, Gandalf says: “This here, is a snake. To slay it [Grima] would be just. But it was not always as it is now. Once it was a man, and it did you service in its fashion.” 

Grima evidently has served Rohan for some years at this point. We know that Theoden’s enchantment/possession began three years prior to TTT. In the books there is no possession. Theoden’s enchantment relies on the powers of words and their suggestions. Something Tolkien was well aware of carrying great weight and import in Anglo-Saxon culture. You tell a man he is old and infirm, he will become old and infirm. 

I understand why Jackson went the possession route - explaining Anglo-Saxon engagement with galdorcraeft/witchcraft and the power of words etc. and how that influenced the development of Rohan in the span of like 7 minutes of screen time wasn’t happening. Possession works for the same purpose, but in a language the modern audience is familiar with - especially in visual mediums. Grima is circa 40 when TTT happens, same age as Boromir for reference. So, let’s say he’s been an advisor for 10/12 years at this point. He has therefore been a good servant of the king longer than he’s been a traitor. 

Hence, the outreach. And, in Brad Dourif’s wonderful acting, Grima’s clear desire to go home to his king. In the book it’s more subtle. Grima chucks the palantir out the window at Orthanc and it’s stated that he wasn’t sure who he was aiming for, Saruman or Gandalf, because he couldn’t decide who he hated more. 

Honestly? Legit. I would also hate the guy who reduced me to “it” pronouns. But maybe that’s my gender identity stuff playing up ;) 

(Granted, in the full quote Gandalf reverts back to “he”, for context. And I’ve said this before, in another post, that it makes sense for Gandalf and as a writer, I agree with Tolkien’s decisions for that scene.)

Now, for some speculation. Not that I haven’t spilled a tonne already. MORE SPECULATION. This time bringing you long term effects of bullying and never having loving relationships modelled for you! Because LOTR, at the end of the day, is all about trauma and how maybe not to deal with it. 

So - motives. 

We know Saruman’s motives. Indeed, he tells them to us in FOTRK: “[to] have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see” and to achieve “the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends.”

Great. Super straight forward. And from the man’s own mouth. 

Grima’s though, always come to us second hand. In the books it’s Gandalf telling us (Gandalf can mind read, so yes, maybe he is accurate). In the films, it’s Eomer guestimating. 

But Grima never actually tells us, himself, what his motives are. 

(a quick aside: if some dude is shoving me up against a pole and threatening me, and I hear someone walking by, of course I’m going to look over at them and it by no means indicates my desire to shag that person. Now, of course, we know from other scenes this is the case. I’m just saying. It’s natural to look over at the person walking by while you’re being jumped by the Third Marshal of the Mark who is twice your size. anyway.) 

So what are his driving forces for treason? What made him go to this point of no return then keep going even when people offered him a way back. 

It is important to note that his treason required him to forswear his oath to his liege lord. I don’t know how to convey what a big deal that would have been, in modern terms. But it would have been huge. Forswearing/reneging on oaths was a massive cultural taboo in Anglo-saxon [AS] England (and general, early medieval Europe). 

And, as Rohan is based on AS England (I forget if Tolkien was cagey about this. He was sometimes a dumb shit and coy about things so was like “noooo it’s not STRICTLY AS England….but it’s clearly AS England with more horses and a light dusting of vikings and the Danelaw”), we can assume it carried as much weight for them as it did for the historical people. 

(Indeed, it’s implied, if not directly stated, in the text what a big deal oath breaking is. Don’t say “oath breaking” too loud or the Silmarillion fandom will come out of the woodwork)

The big takeaway: BIG DEAL TO FORSWEAR YOUR OATH. 

And he did it! Which is why I don’t buy the “it was because of Eowyn and like some nice jewels.” You don’t betray your country, you don’t forswear your oath to your king, simply because you’re hot on the king’s niece and Saruman might give you a raise. 

And, as a liege man to Theoden, he was part of Theoden’s household so would have eaten, worked with, lived with everyone else in the household (Eomer, until he becomes Third Marshal; Eowyn; Hama; Theoden’s guards etc.) 

So, you live with these people, eat with them, drink with them, spend all your time with them, for circa 10 years then you do a bunk and betray them? Something happened. I suspect it was years and years of things happening. 

Overall, I think it to be a combination of things. As is usually the case for these sorts of crimes. In this case, a nice mix of fear, desperation, greed, resentment, anger and desire. 

Fear/Desperation: So, to Grima’s mind the world is ending. Why wouldn’t he think this? Hell, even the Wisest and the Fairest (i.e. wizards & elves) think it’s ending. Why wouldn’t this poor bloke from some small country nearby to Mordor not think it an existential threat to an unimaginable degree? 

Grima is sat here in Rohan looking at Mordor going "oh fuck" then who are the leaders left? Denethor (slightly bonkers) and Theoden (past his prime and lacklustre, like his father and grandfather). 

This is not a man with a strong moral fiber. Or...any moral fiber, let’s be real. He does not have the fortitude to stick it out through hopeless situations. And it would have been hopeless to his eyes. And those around him (see: Eomer’s do not trust to hope… Sure Saruman was a problem, but he wasn’t just talking about the white wizard).  

Gandalf’s plan, which none of these people were ever wholly aware of, was a goddamn Hail Mary pass and it worked. Barely, but it did. NO ONE had reason to believe it would, though. And those are people in the know. Not someone like Grima who has no fucking clue what Gandalf et al is up to. He sees Gandalf then like … Nazgul torture him on the planes of Rohan (Unfinished Tales). He sees Gandalf then bad things happen. 

Lathspell indeed. 

Greed & Desire: I don’t think I need to go into these ones too much. They’re pretty self explanatory. Grima and Black Phillip hung out and the goat asked Grima if he wanted to live deliciously and Grima, like any normal person, said: um, yes please? Also, Eowyn was around being badass, beautiful and untouchable. 

Resentment/Anger: Alright, more probing in the dark. I suspect, for one reason or another (and these reasons would vary depending if you’re looking at books or movies), he was someone who was always treated as other/differently, teased, picked on, isolated, overlooked, doesn’t measure up to Rohan’s military ideal of masculinity. All of which creates an underlying resentment issue.

And nothing festers quite like resentment. 

On top of that, I also suspect he was always told he was a snake/untrustworthy/not worthy etc. and if you're told something enough, and you don't have anything or anyone else telling you the opposite, there is a strong chance you become that thing.

It's a chicken and egg: the face you wear to the world tells the world how to treat you; the world tells you what you are and that is how you shape your face.

THEN you add in Saruman. Who is clearly, in the text, abusive. Which, if there were any inferiority/bullied etc. issues that are informing Grima’s actions, Saruman is just going to amplify it. 

“You are a traitor because you’re a snake, and you’re a snake because you’re spineless, weak, nothing more than a creature that crawls on its stomach on the ground. Snakes are bad, evil things. Which is all you’ve ever been. Barely deserving of the good treatment I give you etc.” <-- all of which is basically a summary of what Saruman has been saying to him for a few years at this point (in the book, it’s only tangentially implied in the movies). 

So Grima sort of morphed himself into what he believed himself to be, fuelled by that perversity resentment causes: Oh you think I’m a snake? I’ll be the best goddamn most poisonous snake you ever did see. Just watch me. 

He is trapped in this situation. A hutch to trammel some wild thing in. 

Which leads me to an interesting point that I think gets lost sometimes: Narratively, he and Eowyn are similar in what they are experiencing. Isolation, being overlooked, misunderstood/misrepresented, don't fit into societal roles and expectations etc. They just go in very different directions in how they respond to it.

I think that's why, in the film, it was smart to have her give pause and listen to him because what he's saying resonates. He is, in some ways, speaking as much for himself as her. But then, of course, he's also just trying to shit disturb and make mischief so of course, at the end of the day, any sympathy he is attempting to convey is laced with poison.

I do wonder, too, if he's the first person to see her fear and her frustrations and acknowledges them out loud. Which is powerful. To have someone see you. Damn shame it's Grima. Still, Eowyn (in the film) paused and listened for a reason.

-

A brief aside on my idle, ill founded thoughts on gender and Rohan: 

One of the reasons I think Eowyn and Grima go in diverging directions, is that Eowyn is performing masculinity, in her society's accepted interpretation of it. Masculinity, in Middle Earth, is clearly the norm. And in Rohan, it’s a very particular iteration of military-focused masculinity that is idealized (you can bet, men who killed like 10 orcs were awarded places in court above Grima who served as advisor for like ten years but hasn’t killed an orc ever).

Eowyn’s desire to live/perform this more masculine ideal caters to the subconscious thing of “Masculinity is Natural Neutral Ideal” so of course you would want to be more like A Man. Whereas Grima is the opposite, not performing masculinity according to Rohan's accepted view of it.

And gods, in Anglo-Saxon culture (therefore, Rohan’s, most likely. I see no evidence to the contrary) is that a difficult position to find yourself in. Back in AS England, being called argr, unmanly, or to be accused of ergri, unmanliness, was one of the worst insults you could throw at a man (indeed, some laws said you could kill a man in retaliation for calling you such things). I would bet my shirt that people used such insults about Grima in this world. Which is all kinds of messed up.

-

Now, my interest in him is my general love for a good redemption arc for the most hopeless of characters. It’s why I struggle to call Boromir’s arc, when he’s written as living, a redemption arc. Because I don’t know he has much to redeem himself for. In his own mind, sure, yes, but externally? Not in my view, at least. He has things he’s done wrong and needs to make amends for. But that’s different from redemption.

Grima, on the other hand, is one whose walk-back from evil would be a full on redemption arc. And I like it because he’s not nice, he’s not pleasant. He will never be nice or pleasant or cheerful. But learning how to love and be a good person doesn’t require niceness. 

Saruman could be plenty nice. Sauron could be plenty nice. Look what they turned out to be.

And in my writing, I do hope I’m treading that line between creating an understanding of who Grima is without Kylo-Ren-ing him. Or, woobiefying him, as the old parlance was. That’s the line I’m really aiming for. I want people to not hate him. I want them to understand him. Oh, still condemn him, still judge him, disagree with him, acknowledge and know he did bad things and isn’t a nice person. But the end game is to add some understanding and nuance.

Shades of grey.

Also I’m a sucker for challenging redemptions.

--

Why Eomer/Grima? 

Because I am an agent of chaos. 

More seriously, I was never overly taken with the Grima/Eowyn approach, personally, which is obviously popular (um...within the Grima world), and closer to canon. There are some beautifully written fics and art out there for the two of them, so if you’re into that. The creators in that nook of fandom are top notch.

I always liked the drastic opposite of Grima and Eomer. As I noted above, Grima and Eowyn are two sides of the same coin. Both bitter and resentful and trapped. And that’s a lot of fun to play with, and i get it. But for me, I love a good strong contrast of personalities in my pairings. (If that uh … isn’t readily apparent.)

I think both Eomer and Grima would have a lot to teach each other and in some really interesting ways that neither would expect. I can see both getting under each other’s skin in that way where you’re sort of always thinking about them.

Grima is also someone who has had very little love in his life (I suspect he wants it, he just doesn’t know how to give or receive it). Eomer is someone who has lost a lot of people (parents, quasi-uncle for a few years there. I think it’s why he’s so controlling over Eowyn. Didn’t want to lose her). And I think there’s something in there where they could help each other grow. But I’m a sucker for some beauty to be there, in the end. Some hope.

Mostly, though, I think it boils down to their dynamic and the angst potential. Eomer is this brash, forthright, fiery third marshal of the mark who may or may not think things through. Big of heart, dumb of ass. Then there’s Grima who is quiet and reserved, cynical, critical, always has a plan or five, gets by via his wits etc. Lots of fun potential there. 

[theobsessor1]

A Silly Idea

summary:  Deceit should know better, going through with another one of Remus’s ideas. He thought it would have been a one time deal, just something for them that night to experiment with his more reptilian side. But he’s starting to regret it with the growing nest of eggs, and horrible uncertainty of feelings swirling in his chest...he might be in some trouble here. 

pairings: qp Demus, implied intrulogical

Warnings: implied eggpreg, implied mpreg, implied mpreg, (i dont go into detail about any of this) 

 Word count: 1959 (wish to support me buy me a coffee :3)

Chapter 1 of “Say Something” series

Deceit growls as he pops back into the subconscious. He could never understand those-those buffoons! He just wanted to help Thomas, just like any of them, refused to listen to him!

They were such idiots!

He sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair, tossing it to the coffee table as he comes around and plops himself down on the couch with a huff. 

Conjuring himself a glass of wine in one hand and summoning the television remote in the other. Planning to spend the rest of the evening mind-numbingly watching the tv and drinking wine till he passes out. 

A perfect plan for his dreary mood. That is of course what he planned but not everything seems to want to go his way today. He surfs through the channels as movement in his peripheral catches his attention. A short flicker of his tongue snatching the faint scent of blood and some kind of soap confirms that Remus has appeared on the other side of the couch. 

“HelloOoOo my fave pair of snitties!” 

Deceit scrambles to not spill his glass as Remus drops onto him, burying his face into the snake sides chest all the while cackling and wrapping his arms around the other in a tight grip like an octopus entrapping its prey with its tentacles. 

“Really now is that all you see me as Remus?” Deceit fakes an offended scuff “Just some over glorified snits for you to use as a pillow?” he tries to keep from smiling, lips twitching with a slight smirk as Remus giggles...or well his equivalent of giggling. 

Remus takes a moment to settle, keeping his head resting on the other dark sides chest as he finds a comfortable position for his legs. He can hear the creative sides stim toy, the joints of it crackling slightly as he uses it, can feel the side glancing up at him as he takes a gulp of wine before returning attention back to the television. There’s a strange unnatural whining growl that comes from the duke “I could knock their skulls in! Ripp off their arms and feed them to dogs! Or just steal their kneecaps!” Remus makes a quick gesture of snatching something “They would have to listen to ya if they can’t escape!” Deceit lifts an eyebrow, shaking his head. 

It’s the same thing almost every night, coming back frustrated and drowning his anger in alcohol, Remus threatening the proclaimed light sides...always the same. 

Deceit gently shakes his head “Thank you Remus, but I must decline… They might listen to my words but they would not hear my meaning...They never do.” 

Remus takes the time to think for a moment, eyes darting at all the channels Deceit is still scrolling through before he finally just settles on a nature documentary, seems the topic for the day is snakes. 

“...You wanna talk about it?” he finally asks, offering up an ear to listen, and let him babble like Deceit would offer him. The snake side can hear him fidgeting more fervently with his stim toy, trying to keep quiet and allow him to vent. It’s a kind gesture, but Deceit was tired of venting. 

Tired of it all. 

He wanted change. 

“What is there to talk about...Virgil fights against me, Patton is trying to do what he sees right, Roman is lost, Logan listens but follows the rest of the flock.” Deceit can’t help but sigh, he can’t fault them for how they act. Yes he gets angry at not being listened to, but they are only trying their best...even if their best isn’t the greatest...hell they have recently been ignoring one of their own!

Remus growls faintly, unhappy as he gives Deceit a tight squeeze. Mumbling to himself in the ways that would get one labeled as a madman. 

Deceit hums chugging down the rest of his glass before willing it to refill, a smirk playing on his lips “Speaking of Logan, how are those secret adventures to his room going?” He attempts to change the subject with practice ease.

He holds in a snicker as Remus’s cheeks become dusted pink, the intrusive side hiding his face in the other’s chest. “I tried to gross him out again, try to spook em, ripping out my heart and dropping on the book he was reading. And the delicious nerd had the audacity to get excited and ask to dissect it!” he humbles into Deceit’s chest before looking up at his scaled face distraught and still blushing lightly “It was horrible!” 

Deceit lets himself laugh this time, chuckling at Remus’s demise, “oh it sounds absolutely dreadful.” 

Remus nods before hiding his face again, hips wiggling slightly with a frustrated shriek that causes Deceit’s ribs to seemingly feel like they were rattling, he merely runs his hand through the duke’s hair letting him scream it out. 

It takes a few minutes for the side to finish, mumbling something about gross feelings, Deceit’s ears ring softly from it, but he doesn’t mind. 

The room settles back into a comfortable silence for the moment, the only sounds being of the creative sides’s stim toy and the television’s narrator drowning on about the process of a female snake going through pregnancy. 

“Dee-Dee can you lay eggs?” Deceit startles, giving a surprised blink, too used to sudden outbursts. Remus had quickly sat up, staring at him with wide mischievous eyes and large maniac smile on his face.

“Ree, if you hadn’t noticed, I’m male and that’s a female snake on screen. I highly doubt I could.” He replies almost fondly to the strange idea. He can see the other’s eyes flickering over his face as his thoughts raced. You could almost see them flashing through his eyes if you stared into them.

“But what if you could?” Would you eat it, cracking it open to slurp out the insides?” 

Remus cackles bouncing slightly “Or-or maybe keep it around and let rot. Turning it into a festering ball of stink!” 

The snake side couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose “As delightful as that all sounds, I don’t think I would do any of that. Though you’re welcome to do so with yourself.” He can’t help but raise an eyebrow as the side moves closer, breath smelling of his latest snack. 

“Do it with me! Let’s make an egg!” Remus moves closer, softly knocking their foreheads together and shaking his head to nuzzle their noses against each other's. “I bet they would be massive! What do you think we would make, some mysterious mix of snake and octopus wriggling inside ready to devour souls hehe!” 

Deceit can’t help roll his eyes, he loves Remus, but really he is not going to willy nilly and start making eggs with him. Remus probably didn’t even actually care about making eggs the sneaky bastard. 

He gently pushes the Duke away “Remus-” 

“Pleeeeeese Double Dee, just some egg making between two bros cause they gay!” ugh, well now how was he supposed to say no to that. 

“Alright fine, I’ll sleep with you tonight-” Remus’s face had gone from pouty to instantly a wide smile that would unsettle anyone “But only once! And then we go to bed after.” 

Remus lets out a dramatic groan as he climbs the back of the couch and flops onto the ground on the other side “Fiiiine, you’re no fun…” 

“Oh yes, I’m such a party pooper aren’t I” Deceit drawls sarcastically before quickly downing his second glass of wine, disappearing the glass with a small poof before standing up and walking around the couch to his fallen friend “Really would think you’d be grateful, considering I’ve let you change my anatomy before~...” Remus had never let go of that one special snake fact he learned from Logan. 

The creative side bolts up from the floor with the sound of bones popping “hmm I do so enjoy that little change~” he purrs towards Deceit, childishly wiggling his eyebrows before grabbing the snake sides hand to tug him off to his room. 

One would be surprised by how clean the duke’s room actually was, save for the mystery stains of course. One could never be sure if its blood, paint, ketchup. Or many other things in the splattering of dark colors in the carpet. 

Everything sat neatly in its place, bed against the back wall, with sheets semi neatly made, weapons rach against a side wall next to the closet and a desk on the other side of the room. Littered with papers with chaotic scrollings and detailed doodles all over them. A couple of shelves lined with Shelves sat over it, lined with grotesque clay figures, disfigured to missing limbs or pouting out guts. 

Remus lets go of his hand to scramble onto the his bed, snapping away his clothes and summoning a bottle of lube on the bedside table. Looking to Deceit with eyes like a predatore ready to eat him alive. 

Deceit can’t help but smile heatedly as he returned the look “So, where do you want me~” 

******

Two weeks!

Two weeks after Remus’s silly idea! 

He foolishly hadn’t thought he was serious about it but here was evidence on his bed that Remus had indeed changed up his anatomy somehow. 

Two weeks of feeling strange. The first couple of days, just extreme hunger and then a complete loss of appetite the rest of the time. Feeling uncomfortable at all hours, only lessened when he was in his snake form. 

He hadn’t understood why it had been happening at first, but with what sat on his bed in front of him...Well he can connect the dots. An egg on his bed, feeling tired and sore...he’s thankful he’s imaginary. 

The egg was surprisingly aesthetically pleasing, going from a bright green-yellow color on top mixing and shifting into a dark olive green to the bottom. The egg was seemingly layered almost like a pinecone and large enough to take up Deceit’s whole hand… well it hadn’t been that size when he first laid it, thank Thomas.

 It had only grown bigger a moment after...Would it keep getting bigger?

Deceit ran a gloveless hand through his hair, hardly any clothes on as he had just woken up for the day and, spending most of his time as a snake, he hadn’t needed them. 

What was he supposed to do with it now? Remus hadn’t said anything after their night together about the eggs. He wouldn’t put it past the duke if he had forgotten, with that mind of his often racing so fast, jumping from idea to idea. 

He could always just bring it to him and remind him of it...but for some reason that made his gut twist unhappily with this strange tightening feeling in his chest.

...He supposed making a nest for it wouldn’t hurt? It’s not like something would actually hatch from it right?... He hoped nothing did, anyway. Surely he wouldn’t be good for the child, if it hatched. 

With another huff, he conjures up two large fluffy blankets and small throw pillows making a nicely sized nest in the corner of the room. It looked like a comfy sitting nook for reading, to disguise the fact that the egg was there.

It’s fine... It will be fine. He fed himself the lie, willing it to wash over him and calm his nerves. Tasting its bitter scent. 

The snake side forces himself to turn away and get dressed for the day, he still has a job to do. He can figure out a better plan to deal with the egg later. 

It was just one egg. No harm.

Everything was fine. 

It’s fine.

[thestarkerisobvious]

Black Cats Are Delicious

inspired by @starker-sorbet​        

moodboard by @von--gelmini​ aka @starker-stories

A snugglefic for @mrstarksbabyy​

With great thanks for the betaread by @mrstarksbaby​

---------------------------------------------------

At 13, Peter made friends with the Thing that Lived Under the Bed.  But things change.  Nothing stays the same (not even  2000 year old demons.)

SEVENTEEN

Chapter 2         Black Cats Are Delicious

In the rose-strewn bedroom, Tony fed.  When he was finished (and after he had done other lovely things with his mouth, other secret things) he lay his head on Peter’s chest.  Peter combed his fingers through Tony’s hair as he spoke about his research. 

“…and I’ve talked to Matthew and Mike’s Mee-maw, and I’m going to go back and talk to her after church Sunday.  She’s blind but she still knits and she can talk for hours, Matthew says, but she hasn’t talked to me much.  She’s still trying to find out how we’re related and Matthew says I should just give up and say I’m a cousin but then she keeps asking questions about how we’re cousins and that gets confusing.  Or she keeps thinking I’m a Post.  Because she can’t wrap her head around why anyone who wasn’t a Post would live in our house.  Is it true that everyone knew the Post girls were witches and didn’t care?”

“The townspeople believed the Post Daughters were excellent and most honorable curandera and wise-women and folk-healers and Aunties and Grandmothers.  They never used such crude, base words as ‘witch’ or ‘bruja’ or ‘hag.’  How dare they? It was ignorant and embarrassing. It was bad luck.”

“You convinced them it was bad luck.”

“Of course I did,” Tony said, kissing Peter in the center of his chest.  “I am your dreammaster.”

“Is it true that all those spellbooks were full of spells to find buried treasure?  And how to heal people?  Did you help Lavern Post heal people?  Matthew’s Mee-maw said everyone loved Lavern Post because she healed people…

“Lavern was the daughter of Micaela D’arruda,” Tony said, as if that explained it.  He began kissing a path to Peter’s left nipple, pouting a little when Peter asked him for more information.

“Micaela D’arruda had come with her brother from Portugal to tutor the Post children.”  Satisfied with his answer, he began teasing the pebbled flesh with his lips, giving a little mew of frustration when Peter inserted a hand in between Tony’s mouth and the reaction it caused.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” he giggled.

“I did,” Tony pouted. Unable to kiss what he wanted, he settled for kissing Peter’s hand.

“No, you told me about the Portuguese tutors which the family was constantly hiring straight from Portugal that kept marrying into the family.  I already learned that on my own.  I asked you if you were helping Lavern Post be a famous healer.”

Tony glared at him a little and kissed his way across Peter’s chest.  

“I just told you that Lavern Post was the granddaughter of Tia Micaela, the witch of D’arruda,” he said, as he began nuzzling Peter’s right nipple.  “Tia Micaela was a very gifted bruja from Cueva de Salamanca.  Her grandaughter had very little use for me...” he concluded sourly as he lay his mouth down completely and began to suck. 

Peter relaxed and enjoyed the sensation, even as his mind tried to process the information he was given.  A line of powerful magical women with no need for Tony.  Tony’s hurt pride that Lavern Post had no need of his remarkable healing ability because she had a remarkable healing ability of her own.  The fact that his third nipple was becoming painfully hard because of what Tony was doing to other parts of his body.

He carefully considered all the information, and finally he posed a question.

“What are you doing?”

Tony looked up at him slyly.  “Feeding on your light.”

“How is that different from this?” Peter asked with a grin, gesturing to his witchesmark, now pulsing and eager for attention. 

“This is meat…” Tony said with a growl, descending his mouth upon it.  He suckled for a few moments before he returned to where he had been before.  

“But this is red wine.”

“Well the red wine is getting ticklish,” Peter scolded, covering his right nipple with one hand.  As much as he loved watching Tony’s mouth, his sensitive bits could only take so much.

Tony pouted again, so Peter moved his lover’s head gently to the other side of his chest.  “And what is this?”

“This is white wine,” Tony crooned as his mouth descended again.  Peter tried to relax and let Tony enjoy himself for a long as he could. 

Still, he had questions.

“Then what is the vein in my neck?”

Tony pulled up with a smile.  “This…” he said, turning Peter’s head to one side and kissing a path along the vein, “is what my master loves the most.”

“Well… it’s one thing I love the most,” Peter murmured as Tony sucked at the vein.

“And this,” Tony whispered as he pulled Peter’s left hand to his mouth, “Is the vein that leads to your heart.”  He kissed the wrist once, then took Peter’s last two fingers into his mouth and sucked. 

 Peter allowed it for a moment.  Then he pulled his hand free, took Tony’s hand and led it downward.  

“And what is this?” 

Tony made an appreciative noise as he gently wrapped his fingers around Peter’s cock.

“This is ambrosia.”  

He sank down to kiss the object in question for a few moments, but then returned to lay his head back on Peter’s chest.

“Did the other Posts have witchesmarks?” Peter asked quietly.

“Very few.  They are very rare.  Nehemiah Post had one upon his…”

“Nevermind,” Peter said quickly.  

Tony gave a wry grin, but didn’t finish his sentence.  “And his grandson did, and that grandson’s son.  Very small ones.  None other of the Post men would bear one.

“Tia Micaela was said to have had one, and more than one of her granddaughters did also, but none past the age of 16.”

“Wait… wait… you mean they go away?”

Tony nodded sadly.  “The natural ones, yes.  To  bear one for your entire life, that is very rare.”

Peter was secretly glad.  He didn’t want to know if anyone else had enjoyed Tony the way he was enjoying Tony now.  He had read in a book that demons took the form of cats to nurse at their witches’ mark.  Peter decided that’s how the other Posts had fed Tony.

“Is a Mee-Maw a Tia?” Tony was asking now.

“It’s a great-grandmother.  What is a Tia?”

“A ‘tia’ is an aunt.  A ‘Tia’ is an older woman who helps many people.  The Mee-Maw of the DeSlaughters sounds very knowledgeable.”

“She said Lavern Post could turn snakes into black cats, and that’s why this property has so many cats and no snakes,  but I know you are the one who got rid of the snakes,” Peter said, noting the pride on Tony’s face.  “But she said that’s why the place was overrun with black cats.  Is it true the place was overrun with black cats?”

Tony made a noise that was a cross between a hungry sound and a purr.  “Black cats are delicious.”

“What?  Why did you say that?” Peter said, laughing a little, pushing Tony off his chest.  “I keep wondering why all of  the cats are all over our property and I don’t see any all-black ones.”

“They are delicious because they are so rare.”

“Why!?” Peter tried to sound angry through his giggles.

 “Why are they rare?  They are rare because I ate them all.”

He laughed at Peter’s pretend blows to the chest and pushed his hands away playfully, bringing their mouths close together and whispered, “My Master-Doctor.  I will tell you a riddle.  

“Little-Micaela claimed that there were no black cats in the spellbooks of her family.  Her grandmother’s spellbooks called for white cats, very well fed and well groomed, with a black spot in the chest, over seven years old, to be washed three times before sacrificed to her demon-servant.  Now you must discover why.”

“Are 7-year-old clean white cats with black spots very rare?  Because they were all eaten?”

Tony looked slightly impatient.  

“You must ask “what one does with the white cat?”  It is used in the spell to kill a lover.  Tia Micaela’s servant had searched out a most handsome and wealthy lover, all the away from Brazil, had convinced the royalty to allow him to return from exile and live at her side.  Within a year she had tired of him and bade her servant kill him.  Her servant agreed, for the sacrifice of a well fed white cat of seven years with a black spot on its chest.  Now discover why.”

“Because…there was no such thing?”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Peter found the face too beautiful to let the expression hurt his feelings.  “Alright I can’t discover the riddle.  Tell me the answer.”

“Tia Micaela loved a white cat with a black spot on it’s chest.  And kept it at her knee for seven years!”

“Oh!  Was the cat… did the cat give her dem… I mean her friend, more power?  Because it was her own pet?”

“Perchance.  But I suspect her demon sought to force her to decide, would this loathsome task be worth the death of her bebê.”

“Did she decide she could live with her lover, since it meant she could keep her cat?

“No.  And that is why all the Books of St Cyprian of that family call for the bones of a white cat with a black spot on his chest.”

“Wait… did her demon like her lover from Brazil?  Is that why he didn’t want to do it?”  Peter said carefully, thinking.  It occurred to him, just then, how Tony had gladly fulfilled a suicide request, without hesitation, for Tom Dylan.  But not for his sister Ada.

“Perchance.  Perchance he did not wish to return to Brazil to find another lover.”

“Are you saying… are you saying all those spellbooks call for a black cat because SOMEONE once had sacrificed their beloved black cat to a demon, and that fact just got copied over and over and over again?”

Tony shrugged carelessly, then he smiled.  He reached out and stroked Peter’s face.  “All the chickens in the coop.  Strut around the egg in the hole.  They feed the family.  But the black chicken, that one is mine, and all the family knows it.  All the goats in the pen.  They meh and stamp.  They get pat on the head.  They feed the family.  But the black one is mine, and the family knows it.”

“And that’s what makes it delicious.  Because it’s special.  I get it.  But those were going to get eaten by someone anyway, those aren’t pets.  Pets aren’t supposed to be eaten.  

“So…  if I had a pet, and I loved it, would you ask me to sacrifice it to you?

“If you asked me to kill the lover I brought to you all the way from Brazil?” Tony  said casually.  “Yes.”

“Would you really go all the way to Brazil to bring me a back a lo… a boyfriend?”

“The handsome men upon the television, the ones you dream of, you say they all live in California...”

Peter was quiet for a long time, thinking.  He opened his mouth, but then closed it again.   Tony watched him, waiting.  

“In America… some men get married to other men.  I read that in a… book.  So…”  he said.  He looked down and their fingers as they tangled together.  Then he laid his head down on Tony’s chest.

“Tony,”   he said finally.  Would you be jealous if I grew up to marry another man?”

Tony moved away little and tucked his arm under his head.  He looked up at the canopy over the bed,  which meant he was trying to remember something.

“Do you mean…in “a Ligação de David e Jonathan?” 

“I don’t know… I know who David and Johnathan are, but I don’t know that.  Would you be jealous?”

“When the ceremony was complete, I would serve him as well.  Are you speaking of Matthew DeSlaughter?”  

“What?  No!  Why would I… no.  I mean… I mean after I go to college and meet someone and we got married.  Would you be jealous. That's what I meant.”

“Marriage creates bindings, and bindings create family, and family I am obliged to protect,” Tony said simply.

“And you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Of your mortal lover?”  Tony asked, looking both amused and confused.

“Oh!  Oh, I see.  So if …. So if I found a spellbook that called another demon…”

“I would tear him to little pieces.”

“Oh!”  Peter said, a little taken aback.  He tucked his head into Tony’s shoulder, blushing.  

“There are many black cows, three leagues south of us,” Tony whispered, kissing the top of Peter’s head, a smile in his voice.  “And many cows with black spots a good league east, so very many…”

“Those cows belong to other people Tony,” Peter scolded, smiling even as Tony kissed him.  “I told you, no stealing…”

Tony made a groaning noise as he pulled Peter close, but Peter knew Tony’s way of teasing.  One hand was slyly moving to caress Peter’s witchesmark, which meant Tony wanted to feed again.  Peter moaned in response and tangled their legs together.

He truly hoped it would rain all summer long.

-------------------------------------------------

The Master Post (not that one, the other one)

as always please direct comments, questions and constructive crit to @witchwayisright

-----------------------------------------------

[cultgambles]

Nature’s Alfredo Sauce

I saw @wtffanfiction ‘s post on weird words to describe genitals...

and my friend dared me to write something with 100 of the words haha. there’s 108 in here i think.

i dont even know.

Word Count: 1317

It was 10:30 at night, the angel lay in her bed without a care in the world. Well, she did have one care: the human that she called with such sweet words earlier that day had not shown up at the time they agreed upon. They were supposed to be boinking about now. A little bit of horizontal monster mash, one could say. 30 minutes past ten, she was quite bored. There was nothing interesting on TV to sate her being, and nothing worth listening to or reading. She couldn’t even muster up any dirty thoughts to swipe at her tainted jewel.

Ugh.

Until...a knock at her door.

Begrudgingly, she got up, using her wings to carry her the short distance to the door. Lazy. Peeking through the peephole, she saw her human standing there, a bouquet of yellow and red roses gripped tightly in his hands. She opened the door slowly, and he gave a sheepish smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, “the dinner party ran super late.”

“It’s fine. As long as you do what you intended to do before.”

“I do!” he beamed, suddenly his pocket rocket becoming throbbing manliness tenting in the cotton prison of his pants. “I brought it just for you, my lance of love, for my love!”

“Ohhhh!” She crooned, her velvet underground becoming moist as he advanced toward her. Her pleasure pearl throbbed with need, as their mouths were on each other in an instant, tongues battling for dominance. He kicked the door behind him, scooping his angel into his arms and carrying her towards the bedroom. Her legs gripped his hips, and she could feel his coke bottle cock poking her hershey highway. He THREW her on the bed, shoving his shirt off, marveling at the way her eyes drank up his well defined chest. She crawled towards him on all fours, pressing her slender fingers around his MIGHTY MAN NOODLE, feeling its rigidness stiffen even more, massaging the orbs. “Do you like when I touch your organ? Your fuck stem, organic crotch gun, diego the explorer--”

“I know you’re trying to hit 100 words but that’s a little overkill,” the man frowned. “You can just say sperminator and go.”

“It’s hard, just like your engorged staff. It’s gotten so big and thicc I don’t know if it will fit in my haynannernanners at all…” She opened her mouth, licking the veins along the underside of his doggy lipstick. 

“Oh that feels so good on my pulsing manmeat. This bulging soldier boy is gonna wreck your triangular area so gud beby.”

“I can’t wait,” she moaned, the DNA rifle still in her mouth, sending pleasures of vibration to the man’s brain. She swirled the tip of the holy wand, and the man groaned, digging his fingers in her long long hair. After a few more languid licks and sucks, his horrible wet mushroom was SQUIZRTING SOME BABY BATTER RIGHT INTO HER MOUTH.

“Urg,” he moaned. 

“Aaaa,” she moaned back, milking the last few drops from his peenie weenie. His fuckfluid was very salty, like he had a bad diet. As soon as she popped off of him, iT (God’s pinky finger) WAS ROCK HARD AGAIN. She couldnt wait to get that cherry assassin deep in her damp canal of lust. 

“Lay back,” the man said gruffly, kneeling to his knees. His tongue found purchase on her love nubbin, his fish pole fingers making their way to her weeping folds.

“Ur so wet for me beby...just for me and my giant sausage,” he groaned into her love pocket. 

“Yes! Only for u, my man with the love tool! I never met anyone with a better male organism than u.”

“Really? You mean that? No one’s got a better you-know-what than me?”

“I mean it b. Hurry up now, my letter o be gettin dry over here,” the angel rolled her eyes. 

“Oh yeah,” he said, returning to the attack on her valve. Suddenly, he detached from her clam cavern, his man-carrot spewing thick, hot princely milk all over the bed. “Your slit of ecstasy tastes so good.”

Damn, she thought to herself, I wasn’t even close. If his mauve avenger didn’t do the job, she would play with her kitty later after he fell asleep.

He snaked up to her, pressing hot fingers to her love pillows, pinching the rosebuds. “Was that good?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“Now it’s time for my pink stiff flobberworm. In your jewelry box.” (His crimson bird was hard for like the 3rd time). 

“Yeah, I think my vagoo would love that.”

The man sat up, pulling the angel above his lap, over the one-eyed snake so her mayonnaise drain was directly in place to slide in easily. She sank down on the mayonnaise cannon, filling her up deliciously. 

“Oh, babe, your communism stick is in my chamber of secrets so deep and good.” The angel readjusted herself, bracing her hands against his shoulders as she started to move her hips up and down his beef bazooka. His burrito, in fact, was so big she couldn’t even fit all of him in her moist core. COo.

She gave a sudden moan as the hungry dragon hit that sweet sweet geronimo spot deep inside her. 

“Oh, ur tube flute game is so much better than your mouth frickle frackle. Yesssss daddy just like that,” she whined at the end. “SO good in my pleasure casino.”

“Baby, u feel so good on my kryptonian meat.” he gripped her anal fortress with such vigor, it was sure to leave small crecrents. He took a mythical berry in his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive spot of her fun bags as his hips rose up to meet hers. He POUNDED into her at inhuman speeds, the angel groaning with every pump of his muatra. 

He liked watching his dark spire go in and out from her forbidden fruit, the way his crown jewels slapped her poop cavern harshly every time.

“Do you like your formerly caged viper meeting my downstairs mouth?!” she purred.

“Yeah looks great. Feels great. Must be mine.” (why did i think of p!atd emperor's new clothes??)

Soon, but not soon enough, the angel felt a tight knot in her belly. 

The tell tale signs of an orgasm (surprised they didn't have another word for it). It hit her like a tonne of bricks as she threw her head back in ecstasy, her chest balls bouncing from the force. Each in a different direction, just like anime girl tiddies. She was wrecked.

The man felt her penis trap tighten as her walls squeezed his hairy wolf dingaling. A few more thrusts of his hips had his hardened arousal squirt his liquid love deep in her man muncher, quickly turning it into a cave with honey.

They both moaned wantonly, so loudly that the neighbors were probably also getting off from their wonderful time of bumbin uglies.

He pulled out of her cum dumpster, his love muscle flopping against his belly, still leaking spaff a bit. 

The angel flopped over next to him, feeling warm pale liquid seep out of her egg chamber onto the bed.

“Your midnight meat train never ceases to amaze me. Like why is it so big and so good?”

“Good genes I guess,” he laughed, “but your woman-tomato is givin me a run for my money.”

“That was fun, you can come use your mighty sword of eros in my cock garage again.”

“Can I use my sugar quill in your fart factory next time?” He asked, batting his eyelashes. 

“Sure, why not. Only if I get to peg your man pussy too. So it’s even.”

She laughed, pressing rumblr spheres (and subsequently naked body) on his person, hugging him close. Of course, his thingy became restless manmeat ready for action in 5 seconds flat.

“Another round of belly magic?”

[mingiswow]

03 | Blood Princess

Pairing: RM x reader, OT7 x reader

Genre: Mafia!au

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of rape, mentions of violence

Word count: 1850 I got a little carried away ops

A soft chill wind came through the windows and traveled over your body, making the pores bristle and a shiver run down your spine. You slowly opened your eyes, not used to such a bright light in the morning. You looked around still a little dizzy from the sleep not recognizing the place you were. The walls were a light shade of yellow, almost imperceptible. Everything was so clean and neat, the curtains were so white you thought it could hurt your sight. You weren’t used to this. Your previous room - or dungeon as you used to call - was dirty and dark, full of weapons and training equipment, your bed was small and stiff, you couldn’t call that a bed.

You looked over your body and noticed a soft satin camisole adorning it. Your hands fumbled slowly through it, feeling the softness and comfort of the piece of fabric over your body. God, you couldn’t remember the last time you wore something so comfortable.

“Did you liked?” the soft voice woke you up from your thoughts, making you quickly turn your head towards the sound. Namjoon was standing on the room’s door, a tray full of delicious food on his hands. You nodded, your cheeks turning a few shades of pink from the idea of the man changing your clothes and seeing you naked.

He slowly walked towards you, careful after the events of the day before. You were sad but you couldn’t blame him that much, he was a gang leader, a mafia boss, having too many feelings and emotions might make him weak.

He pulled the little tray feet and put it on top of your legs. Your eyes glimmered looking at the food. There was a cup of coffee and another one of orange juice, there was sausages, eggs, fruits, bread, and a croissant.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I just asked for a lot of things. I hope you like them” his voice was soft and careful, his eyes were soft as well. You could notice he was having a hard time struggling to not look at your half covered body. You nodded before whispering a small thank you. You grabbed a piece of sausage and bit, closing your eyes enjoying the delicious taste of it. “The maid said your body was very bruised and hurt when she exchanged your clothes yesterday” you peeked him through the cup of coffee, waiting for him to continue. “I called a doctor to make a few examinations on you if you don’t mind, of course”.

“Why?”

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head at your question, his dimple showing slightly.

“Why are you making all of this to me. I mean, I have no value, nor to you nor to Papa” he sighed at your statement. “I really appreciate. I do. But I feel like I don’t deserve it” you gasped when you felt his body embrace yours. His arms wrapped you tightly, his head on the crook of your neck. You would never admit to yourself that his body intertwined perfectly to yours.

“I’m so sorry of what you’ve been through. Yesterday I was a jerk, ok?! I’m so sorry for it” his hands grabbed the side of your face, making you look him in the eyes. You felt your whole body melt and a heat crawl to your cheeks again. “You are part of BTS now and we’ll treat you like you deserve to be. We are a family bonded by the weirdest and worst situation but we still are one and we should take care of each other as such” his thumb caressed under your eye, cleaning a little tear that fell.

Never in your entire life you’ve been treated like this, like a real person with feelings, emotions, and dilemmas, like a human being. You were so used to be used, to be a weapon, to be a toy that you couldn’t even remember a day someone was nice to you. Even in college you were treated like this, you always felt like everyone knew who you were. But the reality was that you were just a scared little girl, one that lost her family, her life and her innocence too soon.

“Thank you, boss” you managed to say, your voice cracked and low from the tears you were holding.

“You don’t have to call me boss, you call me Namjoon or however you want” he said, a sweet smile playing on his lips, his eyes closing a little from the action.

“You are not like the other I’ve met” you confessed, looking at your lap, your fingers playing with each other. He chuckled and nodded.

“No one in BTS is like the others you’ve met. Our stories have a tough background and we are here for various reasons. We honestly don’t like the violence of the whole thing but we do what we do” you nodded. “Everyone protects everyone more than killing for the sake of it. Well, Jimin kinda likes it and Tae loves burning things, I mean, you get used after a while in this world I guess” his hands reached yours, holding them tight and bringing to his lips, where he left a long soft kiss. “You don’t have to worry with nothing for a while, ok?! Just enjoy your kind of freedom” he said getting on his feet to leave the place. “I’ve got a few clothes for you just until your new ones arrive and don’t come with I don’t need because you do” he smiled seeing right through you. “I’ll leave you now. Have a great breakfast and see you around”.

“Thank you, Joonie” you managed to say before he left, a silly smile playing on both of your lips.

He closed the door behind him, his heart fluttering and the stupid smile on his face. What type of sorcery you had to make him so stupid around you?

“Watch out, Joonie, you might be falling in love” he met a smirking Yoongi, his frame leaned against the wall. “You need to remember why we have her here and don’t get lost in emotions, we don’t have the privilege of it” he warned the friend that cleared his throat and nodded, leaving for his office.

You ate the whole tray smiling, for the first time since you can remember you felt like you belonged somewhere. You felt like people liked and appreciated you.

You left the bed and walked over a rose golden chair that stood in front of a dressing table. The furniture had a pile of clothing, still with the tags on it. Your hands touched the fabric and it was even softer than the silk you were wearing. You wondered who chose those pieces since they were so fancy and beautiful that made you think if Namjoon had a wife or a girlfriend to pick them for you. The thought made you bite your lower lip.

You went to the bathroom, taking the nightgown off your body, the cold fabric making it shiver as the piece slid down pooling on your feet. You stood there for a while wondering if you should take a shower or a bath but since you were so excited to meet everyone properly and explore the house, you decided on a shower.

The tiles on the walls and the floor had beautiful gold details like it was gold marbled. The actual shower was golden and got you wondering if it was actual gold. But judging from the fact it was a mafia leader house, it probably was.

The warm water reached your body and it felt like heaven. So many years showering in freezing cold water made you forget how relaxing was warm water. You forgot about time, you forgot about worries, about Papa or Namjoon. Your mind was focused on the overwhelming sensation of the water and your body hugging each other like it was a classic melody. Your eyes shut and your mouth agape, little moans leaving past your lips. The sensation was too good, almost sensual.

After a while enjoying the feeling, you turned off the shower and grabbing a perfectly fluffy and white towel. You dried your body and wrapped it with the towel, leaving for your room.

You grabbed a black dress with red details on it, sliding onto your body. The piece fitted like a glove, hugging your waist perfectly and accentuating your chest. You saw a pair of red sandals and put them on, admiring your figure in the mirror. For the first time since you earned the infamous nickname, you actually felt like a princess. You were being treated like one, eating and dressing like one.

You left the room, looking around for a familiar face but the hallways were empty. You went down to the first floor, walking around and looking at everything. Your finger gently touching a few things here and there, taking care to not break anything.

“Y/N! You wo… WOAH!” your cheeks got red and you bit your inner cheek to suppress a smile when you saw Jimin and V looking at you from head to toe. “Ya you look fine” he said, a smile playing on his plump lips. You never saw a gang with so many beautiful people. If two of Papa’s men had 10% of their beauty was an overstatement.

“Thank you Jimin” you smiled, nodding your head slightly. “Hm… Do you know where is everyone?”

“They are in Joon’s office” Taehyung answered unbothered, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his Gucci pants. “Do you liked the clothes I chose for you?” you smiled unconsciously, maybe Namjoon didn’t have a girl in his life.

“Yes, thank you so much, V” you twirled playfully, giggling and earning a whistle from Jimin. “But aren’t these expensive? I don’t need that much” you stated looking at the little tag at the bottom of the dress where you could read the words Miu Miu.

“Only the best for our best girl” he winked and you chuckled.

“You guys will turn me into a spoiled girl”.

“It’s what you deserve, Y/N” Jimin answered, snaking his hand on your shoulders and hugging. “Now come, I’ll take you to the all mighty RM” you nodded, giggling at the way he said the words.

He led you through the hallway until you reached a big red wooden door, he pushed it open and you expected to see Namjoon and the boys but you met a beautiful library. The shelves crowded with different books, all colors, sizes, and themes. Your finger ran through some of them, feeling the rough covers of it. They all seemed very expensive and rare.

A title called your attention. The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Your hands went straight to grab the title. The hard red leather cover with gold details seemed so beautiful. When your fingers touched the book to grab it, a secret door opened, revealing a large office.

“I see you have a great taste in literature, miss Choi” Namjoon’s voice greeted you and you smiled to the man, happy to see him again.

taglist: @mydearling​ @girlsloveglitter​

Want to be added in the taglist? Message me

[kneesheee]

Little Devil

warnings: threats of death | mention kidnapping | mind manipulation | canon-typical violence

|five|

Jason sat back in one of the chairs as he cleaned the crowbar in his hands. His eyes tracked the movement of the man in the middle cell. The man had crying and screaming himself hoarse as he and Jamila took out his companions. It had gotten to the point where Jamila walked into the cell and forced him to silence or she’d give him a real reason to scream.

He hasn’t done anything since.

Jamila herself had hosed her body down until it was clean enough for her to venture upstairs. She had showered and now she was resting in Roy’s friend Kyle’s room. The space cop sometimes came over with Roy when he and Connor were on good terms. They descended into Roy’s workshop and more often enough Kyle was bringing back metals from Planet Vegeta to fix whatever they broke in there.

Whatever.

He needed to go check on Talia. He didn’t know how long he had been down here. Jason stood to go change when an alert went off on the computer behind him.

His computer was better in ways that Oracle’s ad Batman’s weren’t. They searched for crimes and put pieces together. His idea came from a movie. Captain America: TWS if he was sure. The algorithm was wonderful and once he told Talia about it and let her watch it herself, she stopped at nothing to find someone who could make her something similar if not better. So yes, Jason has his own Project Insight except it was filtered. Potential targets were filed away by threat level.

People were like chess and Jason found that he liked moving pieces into his corner. Almost two-thirds of the people that pop up either work for Head Industries or the League now.

If only he could convince Talia that Tony Stark was not that suitable to be her superhero crush.

(“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong Habibi… he is a man with great influence and an incomparable mind. His morals are unbreakable with knowing when to sacrifice them for necessary evils. My only complaint would be this Marvel continuously writing him to be their sacrificial lamb and unorthodox villain for the sake of making Private Rogers look well. [Its Captain America, T?] Have you not watched the movie Jason? Steven Rogers was made captain to sell war bonds and disrespected a chain of order. It was for plot development that he was made into a captain. In a real world, none of his actions would have suffice. Anthony is practical and though his jokes fall short, it is quite easy to see that he makes up for it. And besides, what kind of woman would I be if I didn’t appreciate his appreciation of a strong woman. He clearly sees females as the superior sex.)

Jason shook his head and paid attention to the details crossing his screen. Roy was calling. He rose a brow and answered.

The red head looked frantic. His green eyes were lit with worry and grief. “Jason! Jay, please. I need your help! Connor’s been kidnapped by the League of Shadows!”

Well fuck.

--

Damian was brought out of his musings as his communicator went off. He spared a glance at his mother who was recreating a picture that Todd had hanging on his wall.

The person on the other end didn’t even give Damian time to speak before they began barking orders, “Get to the Batcave. The others will meet you there. I’m bringing a guest.”

Damian only spared a minute to stare at his phone before he was abruptly standing up. His mother looked up at him and was on her feet and in a defensive position before he could even blink. Damian tilted his head to the side and hummed. She was favoring her right side leaving herself vulnerable to attacks to her left and then he saw the knife in her hands (and where the hell did, she get that---Todd was going to kill him).

“Pack a bag. We will be staying at castle for an undetermined amount of time.”

She roamed her eyes around the room three times before nodding her head and walking away to what she showed him to be her room.

Cain walked over to him and tilted her head. She ran a hand through his hair, and she was one of the few people who could do so without risk of being stabbed. Damian sighed through his nose, “We need to leave and return to the Cave. Todd is bringing a guest.”

He could feel her nod before she was following his mother. Damian wondered just who this guest was. He hoped it to be their enemy, so that he may show them what happens when one attacks the Al Ghuls. The demon inside him cried for blood. This dastardly attack on his mother cannot stand and someone will have to pay.

Damian smiled a cruel smile. Yes, whoever Todd’s guest was will pay dearly for causing harm to his mother.

--

All Al Ghuls knew where the Batcave was located. It wasn’t a secret. They knew where it was, how to get in there detected and undetected, hidey-holes, and how to navigate the computer without raising alarms.

Personally, Jamila never bothered with it. She was content to living her life traipsing the globe making a name for herself that would one day rival her parents.

And yet, somehow, here she was standing in the cave with all the bat brats staring at her. Well standing wouldn’t be the right word. She was lounging across their debriefing table cleaning her nails with one of her knives. Her green-blue eyes tracked everyone’s movement and took note of the many exits and passageways she had been forced to learn.

And then-

Her knife fell from her hand.

Jason moved next to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Jamila gave a full body shudder as she saw what her stupidity led to.

“Kalh,” the word dropping from her mouth. She was sure she would’ve sunk to the ground if Jason was not supporting her.

This miniature version of her aunt looked at with something akin to suspicion and recognition.

She drank in the similarities to the woman she knew to the child standing before her. She took deep pleasure in knowing that she looked like her aunt instead of her mother when she was an infant. It wasn’t long before the butler was whisking her away at Jason’s order.

“Who are you to claim relation to the Al Ghul line,” her other cousin demanded. Jamila turned her head to look at him and quite honestly, she found him lacking. Oh, so she can see the potential. She can see where he would’ve been great. But it’s this idiotic way of ignoring his instincts and obviously ignoring his birthright that makes him unworthy of her attention. It’s no wonder that he fell to the end of the line of succession regardless that it was only because of the death of their grandfather.

Jamila only manages to stop herself from sneering. Jason informed her of his infuriating plan. Announcing her as the heir? It was the reason they were in this mess to begin with! And he just goes and saddle her with a title she does not want! That she threw away!

She can feel Jason sigh because he just knows how she’s going to react.

And react she did.

Pulling herself to full height, Jamila looked down her nose at her younger cousin. Honestly, even Anastasia wasn’t this infuriating, and that little spoilt princess made Jamila want to travel back in time and put her knife through her egg.

“I am your superior in all that matters. I am the Demon of Death. The snake cloaked in poisons with more blood on my hands than a blood bank. I am Jamila Al Ghul-Wilson. Daughter of Nyssa Raatko and Slade Wilson. Rightful Heiress to the Demon’s Head.”

“Rightful,” the one Jason fondly calls replacement questioned. She ignored the spluttering from her youngest cousin that she was lying. As if she wanted to be born to either of her parents.

Jamila tilted her head to the side, “Jason has informed me that my half-brother has been kidnapped. It is obvious that my Mother has taken him and with Mistress Talia compromised, Mother has the right to the throne. She doesn’t know about me, so she’d name my brother her heir.”

The blue idiot that had once thrown her cousin-heart in Arkham sneered at her, “Why should we even trust you? We might as well beat you and Nyssa and dismantle the League of Shadows. It’ll save us a lot of trouble.”

Jamila smirked, “You? Beat me? Don’t make me laugh.”

He puffed up and took a step towards her and Jamila’s smirk widen. She could feel interest piquing in her and her fist clenched ready to lay down the truths.

“I’ve beaten your father and Cass beat your mom—”

Jamila snorted, “Irrelevant. I’m a better fighter than both. Lady Shiva has said that I am better fighter than herself. So, you and your Cass- “

“Mila,” Jason groaned. “Do you have to antagonize everybody?”

“It’s a part of my charm,” she shrugged. “We need a plan and we can’t really do anything until the Mistress is back to her rightful age.”

She pulled a jump drive out of her pocket and handed it to Jason. He had already read all the information on there and copied it to his own computer. Jamila smirked. She also knew he made the data unable to copied again to try would upload a virus on the device download so viscous that no data would ever be able to be added.

Her cousin looked at her with amusement in his unmasked eyes as he moved towards the Bat. Her eyes tracked the Batman’s movement and she couldn’t see what her aunt saw in him. He was so plain.

Jamila trailed her eyes around the room before the sound of people entering caught her attention. She glanced over at the newcomers. She quirked a brow when she saw Jason’s friends.

The clone that Jason took after like a father to a son bumbled down happily alongside the Amazon with the eye-catching thighs. Jamila was suddenly glad that she had her own mask covering her face. Those thighs looked completely delicious.

Following behind them were the alien princess that Jason also befriended. Jamila trailed her eyes down her body. Now this was a woman. She didn’t understand how Jason managed to control himself with such beautiful women surrounding him. And honestly, it is no secret between the two cousins that they both have a thing for strong women.

Following behind them was the red head archer. The one Jason told her was the adopted brother of her mother’s son. And from the way the others following behind could only be his family. Her lips curled back in a snarl.

She had no use of compromised agents.

Jamila could feel a heavy stare on her, and her gaze trailed across the room until she could see Lady Shiva’s daughter staring at her. Jamila wondered what she could read through her body language before she shrugged uncaringly and made her way to Jason’s side.

“Remind why I exactly did I allow you drag me here with these imbeciles,” the Farsi language dripped off her tongue like water and she inwardly smiled. She had done her research on all of them, and she knew for a fact that none of them spoke Farsi. But she almost remembered Jason mentioning that the alien had to actually kiss people to learn new languages and well Jamila knew a lot of languages.

“Because we have to stop your mom and we have strength in numbers,” Jason replied absently as he and the Bat looked over the information on the junk drive. Jamila glanced up at it and inwardly snorted. She hoped that they weren’t thinking of leading an attack going by the old structure of the compound.

“But- “

“You can also use them as distractions while you proceed to beat the shit out of your mother and declare yourself the best of the Al Ghul lineage.”

Well it was true. It was she who took down her grandfather for good after all. Though it was also nice to have facts and her mother, and her brother was the one Al Ghul she hadn’t fought. Damian hadn’t counted. He would need help to beat her just like Anastasia. She will fight them when they are older and more experienced. She scowled, “Damn you and my competitive nature.”

“What are the two of you talking about?”

It was the blue idiot again. She whirled around ready to continue her verbal onslaught when Jason placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Its none of your business, Dickhead.”

Jamila inwardly smirked before she turned back towards the computer. She noted the routes that they planned on taking. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on fixing Aunt Talia instead of planning the attack?”

“You know Batman has to be prepared. Uh… you know he has contingency plans for his contingency plans.”

If she didn’t stop now, she was sure her face would be stuck in a permanent scowl. “In other words, he’d rather be an idiot and focus on the problem that Connor has been kidnapped instead of the obvious connection that this is just a ploy.”

“Well when you put it that way… Ouch!”

Jason rubbed the back of his head from where she had slapped it and the two of them stood glaring at each other. His eyes to her mask. She sighed deeply and it felt as if a weight had gathered on her shoulders.

“We need the Mistress to be back to her right age. It’s imperative- “

“Okay enough of this! How can you expect us to work together when we don’t even know what you’re saying!”

She was going to shove that escrima stick so far up his ass.

“Jamila knows what’s at stake and I trust her to have our back.”

“You might trust her, but I don’t,” he exclaimed. His fist clenched and his gaze darkened with every glance he spared the cousins. Jamila was struck with a sudden realization and she laughed aloud.

“By the demon, he’s jealous!”

Honestly, she couldn’t stop her shaking shoulders if she tried. It was just hilarious.

“What,” Jason’s words were followed by an almost immediate denial of, “No I am not,” from the Dickhead?

“Hate to say it ‘Wing, but you totally are,” the blonde and purple one stated. “You’ve been in this weird state of confusion and jealousy since everything started. You’re almost bad as B.”

Jamila perked with interest before turning to look at Batman. He was jealous?

“This family is fucking weird,” Jason grumbled before pointedly turning away. “Can we focus on the mission now? I think we’ve got a good plan to rescue to Connor.”

They all moved to crowd around the screen even Jason’s friends and the Arrows. Jamila stiffened and quickly moved away. She knew none of them well enough for them to be so close in her personal space.

She sniffed disdainfully from her reclaimed spot on their debriefing table returned to cleaning her nails. She paid little attention to the plan they were going over and honestly, it was a shit plan. Going in through the cover of night? Cliché. Taking down the systems? Predictable and inclined to fail by the five multilayered and encrypted security systems. Hit them before they see you takedown? Unlikely to work with the patrol.

“It won’t work.”

It was as if the world stopped. She rose a brow in challenge.

“What?” Roy asked with such heartbreak on his face that she might have felt guilty. But she didn’t know him. Didn’t care for him. Didn’t care about him. So no, she didn’t feel guilty.

“It will not work,” she shrugged. “The compound has changed for one. These plans you are looking at come from Construction 855b. It hasn’t looked like that for six months now. I should know. I was there when the changes began.”

“You didn’t think to let us know before we started planning,” the Dickhead growled. Jamila sighed deeply.

“I do not like you and it is only out of respect for my cousins that I have not beheaded you.”

She took little notice of how the yellow bat took a cautious step away from her and closer to Lady Shiva’s daughter.

“Mila,” Jason groaned and pressed his hands into his face. She shrugged.

“I have already stated that we cannot do anything until Mistress Talia is back to her rightful age.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you again?” She switched her gaze to the person that had spoken. The Green Arrow. Her mother’s second husband.

She smiled sweetly, “I am Jamila. Jason’s cousin.”

The alien flew close to her and Jamila deserve a reward for not stabbing her in the eye. “Ahh, you are cousin in the picture on Jason’s nightstand. It is nice to finally meet you. I am Koriand'r.”

A small smile pulled at her lips. It was not fond. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

But the peacefulness couldn’t last long because the Blue Idiot was back, and he brought a friend. The girl glared at her suspiciously and Jamila stared back blankly. “You’re hiding something,” she accused.

“I am hiding a lot of things,” Jamila stated. “‘Tis not a crime. And it is none of your business.”

“Its my business if it leads to any of them getting hurt,” she shot back, and Jamila smiled sharply. The Blue Idiot narrowed his eyes at her before moving to once again complain to Jason.  Idiot. “And as I have just stated, it isn’t any of your business.”

“I don’t trust you,” she sneered. And Jamila laughed again, “The feeling is quite mutual.”

The girl searched her features before sighing, “Look- “

“No, you look… I care for none of you. I do not like any of you and if you died, I would not shed a tear. The only people on this property that are worth my attention are Jason, Damian, and my aunt. I am only here out of loyalty to them. You all want to rescue Connor and I do not blame you for that but getting my aunt back to her rightful age is the only way. And I care not for your opinion. It hasn’t been worth anything ever since the words ‘You’ll never be Dick Grayson’ tumbled out your mouth. Do not think that I do not know who you are Barbara Gordon. Because I do and I do not care.”

“Why is getting Talia back so important to you,” the blonde asked as she walked over. If she had been trying to be intimidating, then she needed work.

“She is my aunt.”

The blonde (Stephanie, her mind supplied) looked at her in frustration, “Well yeah, I get that. But why is it more important than saving Connor? I mean she’ll still be here if we go after him first.”

Jamila rolled her eyes at the ignorance being presented in front of her. She cast a glance around the room and notice how they seemed to have garnered everyone’s attention, “Look you guys don’t trust me. I get that. Jaycee’s word isn’t enough. But Talia is my aunt and the only person standing in this room besides me and Jason that she cares for is Damian. You don’t want to help her? That’s cool. That’s fine. But if you so much as think you’re going to stop me… ME… from helping her? I will kill all you right now and fix her myself.”

She laughed at the way they all tensed defensively. She rose a brow watching how the archers’ fingers flexed as they controlled themselves. Batman attempted to stare her down, “We don’t have the time to spare- “

“Make it,” she cut him off. “The Mistress is way more important than my brother right now.”

“Brother,” the Green Arrow choked. She sneered, “You are so not my father.”

She turned back towards the back, “Mother will do nothing to Connor now that she has him, but she does want Talia. She will stop at nothing to get her. Right now, she’s protected. None of Nyssa’s operatives can enter Gotham without facing death.”

“We’re not- “

“Tawaquf,” she stated and watched as all the Bats and Jason freeze up. Weapons were pointed at her and she flipped out of the way as the alien princess and amazon headed for her. “I apologize for the distress Jason, but I do not have the patience to play these games with them.”

“Undo whatever it that you have done, and I will not kill you quickly,” the Amazon snarled. Jamila smiled in challenge. Now that would be a good fight. She turned her head in interest ready to apply pressure. She could feel something awakening in her as its power seeped through her pores. It coated the room before wrapping around her in a cocoon.

“I will like to see you try,” she teased. She could see the way Shiva’s daughter attempted flinched away. She could see how Jason and Damian both wanted to move forward and embrace her.

“The Lazarus Demon,” she heard. Her gaze flittered over towards the Green Arrow and Black Canary. She saw the way the Amazon flinched away. “You recognize my friend? How?”

Then she shook her head, “Never mind. That is irrelevant. The code word I used was a trigger into an automated system that my grandfather had injected into the blood of all operatives of the Bat including you, cousin mine. You might not remember but the Mistress has used it on you plenty because of your past with the pits.”

Jamila moved towards the Bat computer and began to search. Jason had told her that the Bat had most of the things needed for the scientific part of the cure. It was the magical part that will be a problem. But like her cousin, she’s had some fun traveling through the multiverse and she met people.

She turned towards the others in the room. The Outlaws and the Arrows. “I will help you that I promise, but Mother will be prepared for retaliation. By kidnapping Connor, she knows that you all will follow. This can either go two ways. She will believe that Jason will follow you out of loyalty and thus leave Mistress Talia vulnerable. She may cannot get any of her operatives in here but that doesn’t mean she cannot pay someone else to.”

“Pay,” Roy cut in. His eyes widened, “Deathstroke?”

“Yes, the League has been a longtime customer to Mr. Wilson. Stealing the daughter of the demon will be child’s play to him. While she might expect you all, she might not expect Batman and his brood. She will think that Jason somehow managed to convince you all to stay back and guard the Mistress. The other part is that she does expect Batman. The compound has undergone construction made to slow you all down. She will employ these added additions.”

The Black Canary nodded her head as she cautiously moved closer. Jamila’s gaze turned to her and she could Lazarus turn its attention on her. “It makes sense. We all have a connection to Connor and using him can be a distraction for her to get Talia and for her to do whatever it is that she wants to Connor simultaneously.”

Jamila nodded, “You will need someone who knows the compound as it is now, and I only know half of it. I do not know all of it and I rather not run in blind. And these new additions are meant to stall. Any second waiting is a second we cannot afford.”

“Call up your magical contacts. I need someone to bless this bottle and bridge a contact with—” Jamila inwardly winced and her hand automatically raised to cover her now bleeding nose.  She ground her teeth together, “Bridge contact with the ancient goddess Manat.” Another hand rose to her ear and she inwardly growled at Lazarus. She didn’t even worship Manat.

“Are you okay,” the Green Arrow questioned with concern on his face. Fatherly concern at that. Jamila never had a father and the only mother figure she had was her aunt.

“Just peachy,” she growled. She could feel a heavy stare on the side of her head, and she turned to see her cousins looking at her. “Harar,” and then regained control of their bodies again. A pity that she will not be able to use it again and a blessing that Mother would not be able to use it at all. “Let’s just get this over with.”

[qvicksilversass]

Bad Habit - Part 8

(Pietro Maximoff x Reader)

Glancing over their expectant eyes, you weren't sure you wanted Wanda in your head like that; could she face the memories of someone torturing her brother? Could you?  

Words: 3309 Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture and violence...this parts get very dark, I tried not to make it too gory.

An: Sorry this isn’t a new part, I’ve had to repost this and part 3 as they got flagged :( x

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6   Part 7   Part 8  Part 9   Part 10

Masterlist 

Over and over again your last few seconds replay in your brain, Pietro’s hands around Wanda’s neck, his lifeless eyes after you violently steal his essence condemning him to die with you...except this time the scene fades to white, your eyes open and it’s blinding. You feel around trying to get your bearings, an IV was in your arm and pads and wires were attached all over your body. There’s no space around you, and you panic realising you are trapped in some kind of box. You bang your fists on the sides and rip out the wires attached to you, shielding yourself when the hatch slides open.

"Y/n you're ok, you're safe, breathe,” relief washes over you when Bruce’s face emerges from the bright lights. You continue to struggle for breath your chest heaving and head spinning as Bruce gently helps you out of the chamber and onto a bed, "the cradle and Pietro's abilities healed you but we had to suppress his speed, you might feel dizzy for a while."

"Where is he? Bucky, is he ok his head was bleeding so much and..."

"He's in cryo, we thought it might help slow the deterioration down until you woke up, and Bucky's fine he needed stitches and his arm still needs fixing but he wouldn't leave you," Bruce chuckled, "he's been here three days, we had to practically throw him in the shower."

You drop back against the headboard in an attempt to help the sickness in your stomach, your muscles ached so much you couldn't really move. Three days? Only moments ago you were bleeding to death. Your hand grazes over your stomach, only soft skin under your fingers.

Bucky walks through the door in just a white t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still wet and fiddling with the sling on his arm, "I messed it up again doc, is there any change-?."

Banner coughs and Bucky glances up, face full of surprise and he breaks into a grin, "Y/n?"    

"Hey Buck."

"Watch the arm!" Bruce warns and Bucky ignores him, hugging you tightly with his free hand. You rest your hands around his waist, letting your body relax into him, enjoying his warmth.

"You really scared us this time," Bucky smiles into your hair, pulling back to hold your face, you smile at the relief in his eyes and he kisses your forehead, "it's good to have you back doll."

"You should let them fix you properly, how's your head?"

"I've had worse." He grins and moves away a little, his arm snaking around your waist and letting you lean against him.

"How do you feel?" Steve bounds in his eyes almost as tired as Bucky's and he checks you over before giving you a hug. He sits himself down on the opposite side to Bucky and the bed bounces with the weight of him, "we tried to get to you sooner, I'm sorry kid."

"You got us home, that's all that matters." You mumble, his arms squeezing the air out of you.

"It's good to see you well."

Wanda was the last person you expected to see, let alone smile at you in quiet thanks. You returned the gesture though and she trailed in behind Tony, hiding her shaking hands under her shawl. Your eyes were drawn to the purple bruises spread over her neck, her skin a pale grey and dark shadows under her usually vibrant eyes.  

Steve and Tony share a look and you put your hand on Steve’s getting his attention, "What is it?"

"Do you think you're up to using your powers?" Steve asked and your stomach turned with dread, "we need you to try and find out who did this, to sort through his memories as you return them. If we can figure out what happened to him, maybe we can reverse it."

"I'm not sure Steve, I don't have that level of control yet-"

"I can help you." Wanda suggested, stepping forward.

"Not a bad idea, in case y/n falls unconscious Wanda will be like a back up drive."

Glancing over their expectant eyes, you weren't sure you wanted Wanda in your head like that; could she face the memories of someone torturing her brother? Could you?

"Yes," Wanda whispered and smiled at you knowingly, "we must try."

There wasn't really anything to decide, you wanted Pietro back, you wanted to know who turned him into a killer and there was no other way.

"How do you want to do this?"

Bruce straps you down to the bed, the amount of restraints and just how tight they were making you nervous, "when we remove the inhibitors it will be a massive shock to your system, we're not sure how your body will take it."

"Don't want you zooming off to China." Tony smirks, sensing your unease and you roll your eyes at him.

While Bruce begins to hook you up to machines you watch as the cryo chamber is wheeled into the room. Pietro looks so small inside, so still, you can't even see his chest rise. You need skin contact for your powers to work so they open a hatch on the side and you slip your hand inside, hesitantly placing it over Pietro's.

They were so rough now, scratches covering the pale skin that's icy to the touch. Such a strange sensation. He was always so warm, never still. You go over the softness of his fingers, remembering their gentle touch as they caressed your skin. You didn't register the quiet as everyone left, the touch of Wanda's hand taking yours the only thing grounding you.

"Ready?" Tony asks and you turn your head to give Bucky a reassuring smile, you could feel how much he didn't want you to do this.

No one knew how Pietro would react when he woke up; if he woke up at all. Bucky refused to leave in case he turned violent, to keep you safe. Wanda squeezed your hand, her calm expression not hiding how terrified she was, still, she nodded for you to begin.

A familiar sensation rushed through your veins, your power taking on a life of it's own as it built up inside you. You gripped Wanda's hand as the energy ricochets inside your brain and you struggle to control it as it flows back out. With her help you gradually slow it down, you start grabbing onto memories, trying to find anything familiar in the chaos.

Picking through memories was a skill you had never managed to control and even with Wanda's help they were erratic. There were flashes of Ultron, his parents, Sokovia, Wanda and you, lots of girls but overwhelmingly you. Lust, sex, pleasure and chasing at first changed to flashes of Pietro watching you sleep, noticing your smile, your laugh, an overwhelming sense of something you never expected...

'Concentrate.' Wanda's voice scolded you in your mind, 'I dont want to see this.'

'I do.'

"You know printessa, your eggy bacon would stop that rumbling..." Pietro walks out of the bathroom drying his hair and it takes him a second to notice you're not there, "Y/n?"

Guessing you'd gone to make breakfast, he gets dressed and walks out to the kitchen hoping he'd find you in his shirt, cooking that scrambled eggs and bacon that no one could make taste as nice as you did...your bare thighs making him want run his hands up them and bend you over the counter... but there was no you, no delicious smell. Getting worried he sped to your door and was about to knock when he got your text.

Pietro stared at his phone, reading the message over and over again until he was fuming. He wanted to bang your door down and demand answers, why would you break it off? You seemed to enjoy him enough last night, and this morning - how could you go from that to brushing him off? Instead he just stared at the door and listened to you cry until he couldn't take it anymore.

Running to his own room, he picked up the first thing he could get his hands on and smashed it against the wall, then another, not satisfied until his room was trashed. He catches sight of himself in the mirror, blood on his hands and tears staining his cheeks with no relief from his anger and frustration. Coward.

Pietro's phone buzzes from under his upturned bed and he grabs it, reading the text from another girl he messed around with before you. He's ignored her and others since; yes, there was the odd bit of flirting here and there, but he only needed you in his bed, he only wanted you.

L: Wanna hook up?

Pietro glances back at himself in the mirror, he couldn't understand what he'd done wrong, why did it hurt so much? He was angry, confused and he decided if you could just throw him away so easily, it was your loss. He wanted to show you what you were missing, make you hurt, so he typed his reply.

P: Of course frumoasa. When and where?

Wanda tears you out of the memory, her impatience making you lose control and his memories start to get away from you again, all you see are quick flashes of images until you catch a more recent memory, Pietro emerging from a run-down hotel, the sun beaming down and dust in the air.

Pietro was following a lead, speeding through backstreets until he reaches a warehouse. He ignores the anxious feeling in his gut and walks into a meeting with the vibranium dealers, not realizing until it's too late he's walking into a trap. They hold him down, and he feels the needle jab into the back of his neck and the heat of the drugs as they burn through him until it's all black.

Pietro wakes up in a nightmare, he's in a replica of his Hydra cell, he screams for help, tries to force the door open until his shoulder is bruised and probably fractured. He's left for hours, days with no food or water, left to go insane without being able to run, to burn off his energy.

"It's good to have you back 8296."

Pietro can't make out his face, but he recognizes the voice and his blood turns cold, it can't be him.

The doctor steps into the light and Pietro scrambles away from the brightness, his eyes stinging after so long in half-light, not even trying to fight off the guards as they held him down. He knew what this was. Fighting would do him no good, he just had to wait it out, whatever they did to him. He was afraid, and this time he was alone.

Wanda tries to break the connection, she must recognize the doctor. You try to keep her present, forcing her mind to stay and the picture changes again, loud music, so many voices...

Of course you were here with him.

Pietro hated how close you were to Bucky and Steve, but especially Bucky. He could never compete with your friendship and he saw the way Bucky looked at you. He knew this casual arrangement would end someday but not yet. He was sure that bastard was the reason, always whispering doubts in your ear, and he was right. Bucky could offer you more than Pietro ever could.  Fuck, he wants you so badly and it hurts him when you head straight for Bucky, not him. So he takes his anger out on you, watching your reaction when he kisses the girl, his hands roaming her body and not feeling as bad as he should for using this girl. She was beautiful and fun, but she wasn't you. He watches you leave, his pride happy while his heart hurts for you.

"What the hell is your problem?!"

"I don't have a problem." Pietro turns away kissing the girl again and Bucky yanks him back by his collar and slams him against the bar. He vaguely hears the girl scream and good old Mr Rogers consoling her, leading her away from the scuffle.

"You think you can treat y/n like that?" Bucky growls at Pietro, shoving him back again, glasses rattling on the bar and people quickly move out of the way.

"She ended it, why should I wait around?"

"Did you really need to throw it in her face, asshole?" Bucky hissed, his metal fingers tightening around Pietro's neck, the pressure almost cutting off his air.

Pietro shrugs, smirking,"She's so special she opened her legs for the first man that paid her any attention..."

"Come on Buck, he's not worth it, let's go home..." Steve attempts to calm Bucky down, however Pietro was enjoying making him angry.

Pietro leans in close to his ear, "I know you want her old man, how it kills you it's my bed she runs to," he was getting under his skin, Bucky's nostrils flaring and jaw set, it wouldn't take much more to make him snap, "you want her? Just give her a bit of attention, her curva legs will open right up."

Pietro regretted the words as soon as he said them, he didn't really mean them. He wanted to hurt Bucky, hurt you, he wanted to get what he thought he deserved.

"What did you just say?!"

The first punch had him stumbling back a little, the sharp pain and blood in his mouth not enough to wipe the smirk off his face,"just that she's my curva, but you know, give her a little and she'll..."

"Say that again."

"What? Curva?" Bucky's metal fist smashes into his face, Pietro wipes the blood from his nose and finally gives in to his anger, speeding over and knocking Bucky into a bunch of tables.

'Y/n! We're not here for this.'

Wanda would come, you would come, he just had to wait.

Pietro holds onto memories of you at first, the most private ones he saves for the nights. For the few hours he's thrown back into his cell. His body left to heal until they decided it was time to break it again. Eventually they twist those too. As his body changes he needs less time to recover and every hour they find a new way to torture him, twist his memories of you, Wanda and the Avengers. His hope fading a little more each time.

"Why do you think no one has come for you 8296?" "Who do you think told us where you were?"

For hours he'd been strapped into this chair, an IV slowly pumping god knows what into his system. Forcing him to watch endless videos of war, violence, altered images of the Avengers, killing in such gruesome ways he never imagined...every time he closed his eyes an electric current passed through the wires attached to his temple and straight into his brain. The doctor's voice played on a constant loop, whispering in his ear, worming his way into Pietro's subconscious.

"They betrayed you, killed your parents...they want you to suffer like this," he knew it wasn't real, yet the more he watched, the more pain he felt, the more numb he became, "you were right to hate the Avengers, they left you to die here, they want you to die here."

"No one is coming for you, 8296."

Wanda would come, you would come, he just had to wait. Just had to...

Pietro sneaks into your room, avoiding the creaky floorboard and chuckles seeing you spread out all over the bed, the amount of times you kicked him during the night he'd lost count. Your soft snoring and serene expression made him want to slip into bed beside you, but he had to leave he couldn't bear to hurt you anymore. He gently brushes the hair from your face and kisses your forehead, inhaling your scent, it was always jasmine,"You're better off without me, printessa, take care of yourself."

"This will keep you still," He's brought out of the memory by a burning pain in his arm, he tries to struggle, his body not responding, "now, let's see how fast you can heal."

The doctor laughed, an evil shrill sound letting Pietro know he was going to have some fun.

Pietro sees the glint of the scalpel in the bright lights the dark figure of the Doctor leaning over him. He strains to see what the doctor is doing, biting into the gag, his body tensing when he feels the cold scalpel press, then puncture and cut through his skin. Screaming when the blade slices down his chest, screaming when the doctor reaches down and pulls back his skin.  

Pietro's head falls back on the table, his eyes rolling back when he feels hands inside of him pulling, twisting, cutting, until he eventually passes out from the pain, the image of the doctor holding up his heart flickering to black.

'Wanda, we have to keep going, he could lose all his memories, he'll be stuck inside the last memory before the break...please, I know how much you're hurting but we can't leave him here...'

'I can't y/n, he's in so much pain it's too-.'

'Please, just a little longer..."

Pietro's lost track of time now, strapped down to another metal bed in another grey room. There's almost nothing left, he can't feel, can't think, all he knows is the pain, everything seems distant, hazy. The scientist approaches him but Pietro doesn't hear him, even when the scientist slaps his face leaving an angry bruise Pietro just feels...nothing.

"Is he ready?" Another man enters the room holding a vial of black liquid. Attaching it to a needle gun he fires the substance into Pietro's neck without waiting for an answer. More pain shoots through his body as the liquid does it's job, finally numbing everything except his rage, and he welcomes it.

"8296 are you ready to comply?"

'Let me out! Y/n, break it, let me out!'

Both Wanda and Pietro rip from your mind and you hang on just long enough to see flashes of his last few hours before you found him, the last remnants of his essence flowing back into his body. Oh god, the things he did, things they told him to do...your eyes blink open desperate for it all to be a dream, to forget everything you've seen.

Steve carries Wanda out of the room trying to calm her, her sobs breaking your heart, nothing could erase what happened, nothing could bring him back; not the Pietro you knew. His eyes flutter open and you struggle to get the straps undone.

"Y/n?"

"Pietro?" There's recognition and confusion in his eyes for a few moments then he starts to struggle, using his powers to vibrate the metal holding him in place, cracks appearing all around him.

"You're not real," Pietro studies your face sadly, "I wish you were..." he screams in pain as the black creeps over his eyes again and it's not Pietro that stares back at you.

"I thought I'd killed you printessa?" He grabs your forearm, dragging you and the bed against the chamber. His nails dig deeper into your skin not letting go when Bucky unties you. His grip only tightens while Bucky pulls you away, his nails leaving angry bloody scratches in your skin. Pietro starts screaming again, the same animalistic rage you saw when you found him consuming him, driving him insane.

"Y/n, we need to go!"

"No!"

"Y/n, you can't help him!"

"I can't leave him like that!"

"Look at him! He's gone y/n." Bucky grabs you around the waist, picking you up and carrying you out of the room. The doors close and sedative gas is released.

You collapse against Bucky, your screams muffled by his warm body, tears rolling down your cheeks. He pulls you to him both of you huddled against the wall of the corridor. Steve mirrors your position with Wanda, both men feeling helpless.

Covering your ears to block out Wanda sobbing, images of what you saw burn into your brain as if they were your own memories, your own pain and you cling onto Bucky unable to control your emotions, your own mind.

"They had him for weeks, I felt all of it Bucky..."

"Shhsh, it's ok, I'm here, Y/n it's ok."

"No it's not..."

Nothing will ever be ok again, for any of them.

Part 9