#farai oc

[pigeonwhumps]

Villain whumpee au: part 1

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Inspired by this prompt [which I can't find rn but it's about a villain being passed around hero teams, until eventually caretaker finds their scars – lmk if you see it/know it, the search on here is terrible].

After years of being passed around various hero teams while on 'parole', Farai ends up with Phoenix, Aaron, Kai, Santhiya, and Rhian. How she's been treated, both then and now, is an adjustment for all of them.

2.1k

CWs: past abuse, expectation of punishment, overwork

Farai pulls the plate out of the dishwasher, gives it a quick wipe with the teatowel before stacking it in the drawer. Nearly finished.

And then she just needs to do the rest of the kitchen.

She's so tired she thinks she might fall asleep right here, but she has to do this. It must be the reason she's here, to do the hero team's chores, because they haven't punished her yet. If she was just here to be hurt they'd have started by now.

It's not fair. They're trying their best, and all anyone does is hurt them and set them near-impossible tasks. If they weren't on parole they'd have given up by now.

"Um. Hey."

Farai spins around, bowl in hand. One of the hero team is standing there in Star Wars pyjamas and a dark hoodie, red, pink and white hair slightly frizzy around a tired face as they fidget. Farai dips her head quickly.

"Hello. Sir."

"Don't call me that. And, um, you don't need to bow either. I'm just Phoenix."

"Sorry Phoenix."

"It's okay. You, um, you must be Farai, right?'

"Yes."

"Great. Because, um, I need to talk to you. You've been doing all the chores, right? I keep, um, hearing someone in here at night, and then in the morning everything's sparkling. And you, um, you seem like you might."

Farai swallows and nods, heart in her throat. Is it a bad thing that she's doing this? Is Phoenix going to punish her? If she shouldn't be doing this, why is she here?

"I'm, um, I'm not going to punish you. I'm just, um, worried that you're going to collapse. Because you're spending all night doing this and I doubt you sleep much during the day and, um, that's what happened to me. I collapsed. Took a long time to recover. You need to stop before that happens to you."

Farai looks at Phoenix nervously. They don't– they– what are they playing at? Are they trying to get them in trouble?

"At least, um, let me help. I know what it's like to, um, to feel like you have to do everything. And to actually have to do it all. And I, um, I don't want you to feel like that. Please?"

Farai eyes them warily. They can't refuse, not really, but they don't trust this.

"Why?"

"I told you. I, um, I know how it feels. And I wouldn't wish that on you."

"Don't lie to me. Nobody ever wants to help."

Phoenix comes further into the room. "I'm not lying. This team were pretty much the first people to, um, accept me. Ever. And, um, I don't want you to end up doing what I did. Let me help you with something."

Farai eyes them warily. They don't trust them. Despite the way they look so earnest and awkward, Farai doesn't quite believe them. As they said, no-one ever wants to help, and they don't see why that would change.

They nod sharply anyway, hands shaking, because they realise that Phoenix won't give up until they can help.

"Thank you."

They step forward, crouching down beside Farai. "You, um, unload, and I'll dry and put them away?"

Farai nods, and passes the bowl to Phoenix.

The job goes smoothly for a while, and Farai almost starts to relax a little. Phoenix is doing exactly what they said they'd do, with no impossible expectations. Not yet, at any rate.

Then it happens. Farai fucks it up. She's handed the last mug to Phoenix, and she's just got to her feet, starting to take the couple of steps towards her canes leaning against the wall, when she stumbles, vision going momentarily, room tilting around them, and they collapse to the floor at Phoenix's feet.

"Farai? What's wrong?"

Farai tries to form words but they only manage a groan. Phoenix eases them to lean against the cupboard.

"I'm going to fetch Aaron, okay? I'll, um, I'll be back in just a minute, I promise."

Phoenix squeezes their shoulder and rushes out.

Farai pushes herself up, attempting to sit to attention, but she just falls back. She's too weak to sit up on her own.

It's not long before Phoenix returns, a dark-skinned man with glasses and hair held in a colourful silk wrap in toe. He has kind eyes, and a first aid kit in one hand even though he's clearly just been woken up.

Phoenix sinks back down beside Farai, and the man who must be Aaron gives them a small, crinkly-eyed smile.

"Hi. I'm Aaron, he/they. You must be Farai. Can you tell me what's wrong? What happened?"

Farai swallows nervously. "I collapsed, sir. My canes were further away than I thought when I tried to fetch them. My vision went, the world tilted, and I stumbled and fell."

"No sirs. Can you stand now?"

"Not at all."

"Want me to fetch your canes?" murmurs Phoenix. Farai shakes her head. She's okay, she can't stand anyway, and she wants Phoenix here.

Aaron nods, unzipping his bag. "I'll do some quick checks on your heartrate, blood pressure and blood sugar to make sure, it could be something else, but when was the last time you ate, slept or drank?"

Farai falters. "I– um–"

Phoenix squeezes their arm. "You're, um, allowed to eat. And drink and sleep. I thought you weren't sleeping, I didn't, um, realise it had gotten so bad already."

"It's okay," Farai murmurs. And it really is. Phoenix is trying, that's more than anyone's done for them in years.

"Hold out your finger. It'll just be a small prick." Farai obeys, looking away but barely noticing the needle. "Right. I'm going to need you to take off your jumper, Farai, so I can have a bare arm to take your blood pressure. I'll be quick."

Farai swallows. She really, really doesn't want to do that. She can't. She's not allowed to show her scars to others, she'll be in trouble, she–

"I'll, um, I'll do it first, if you want, for, um, moral support," offers Phoenix nervously. Nervously? What does Phoenix have to be nervous about? Still, she nods, and watches as they pull off their hoodie, eyes on the floor.

Their arms are covered in scars. Cuts, burns, handprint-shaped burns. The low neck of their top exposes the end of a lash on their collarbone.

What the hell happened to them?

"I have camouflage powers. It, um, took me months to show these. No-one here's given me any grief over them. I don't, um, know why you're nervous, but it's okay."

Farai swallows. She doesn't think anyone here knows about the scars, they're just being nice to her, they think she's just self-conscious, what will they say if they see? She's not Phoenix. She's a villain and not a very well-liked or respected one at that, so there's nothing to say that people won't be mean to her about her scars.

"Your blood sugar's low, as I suspected. I really do need to take your blood pressure and check your heart rate. There's no rush, take your time. I want to work something out with regards to your medication anyway, if you're agreeable to altering that."

Farai nods. She has to be. She squeezes her eyes shut to avoid seeing Phoenix and Aaron's reactions and pulls off her fleecy jumper, rolling up the long-sleeved top on one arm as well, right up to the shoulder.

She hears a small, hastily-stifled gasp, but she's not sure who it comes from.

"Farai..."

That's definitely Phoenix. They sound pained and upset, and Farai opens their eyes, confused. Phoenix looks upset too. Aaron's brow's furrowed in concern.

No-one's looked at them that way in years.

And that's when Farai notices something.

She holds her arm up beside Phoenix's. The handprints match.

"You're not the only one who's been scarred by heroes," says Phoenix, quietly.

Farai frowns even more at this.

"But– you weren't a villain, were you? Why would they hurt you?"

"I'm immortal. My old team took advantage of that."

Farai finds Phoenix's hand. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Still." She looks at Aaron, gulping, knowing she needs to be ready for what he's about to do before they chicken out and run off to hide. He smiles.

"Right. This is going to squeeze a bit, but don't panic." Aaron wraps the blood pressure cuff around Farai's upper arm and starts it going. Farai's breath picks up a little as it squeezes tighter and tighter, a little painful, before it releases. Aaron looks at the reader before he gathers it up.

"Hmm. If you don't mind me asking, are those scars from when you were still a villain or later?"

"Later," whispers Farai. Aaron nods. Phoenix closes their eyes for a second.

"I'm sorry. You're on parole, you shouldn't have been hurt like that. Not that it would be alright anyway, but especially not now. I'm going to check your heart, it'll feel a bit cold."

Farai nods, pulling her top down and sitting completely still as Aaron holds the end of the stethoscope to her chest. She's already cold, but she shudders as the metal touches her.

"Alright, you can sort your clothes out again now."

Farai rolls down her sleeve and pulls her jumper over her head, snuggling down into it. That's much better.

Phoenix watches them for a minute before saying quietly, "It's not just hiding. You get cold easily, don't you?" Farai nods. "I'm going to get you a scarf later."

And, well. Farai can't process that. They're not used to people caring. If anyone notices anything they usually make it worse out of spite or cruelty.

They hope Phoenix is telling the truth.

"Right. Your blood pressure's a little raised, and so is your heart rate. I suspect your heart rate is nerves, and you desperately need something to eat. And to sleep. Have you eaten since the pizza on your first night?"

Farai shakes her head. "Didn't know I was allowed."

"You're always allowed food."

Farai looks down, a lump in her throat. Aaron says it like it's obvious, guaranteed, when it hasn't been so in such a long time.

Phoenix nudges their shoulder and they look up to see them smiling gently.

"I'll fetch you something. What would you like to eat?"

"I get a choice?" she asks, before she can stop herself.

"Provided we have it, yeah."

Farai nods. "Coco pops?" she asks hopefully. They're easy to eat and it's been a long time since she last had them.

"Yep. You, um, you sit down at the table, I'll fetch you some. Aaron, do you, um, want anything?"

"I'll have a banana." He pushes himself to his feet and grabs Farai's canes, holding out his other hand. She flinches but it appears they just want her to take it, so she does so cautiously. He pulls them upright, steadying them as they wobble.

"Do you think you can walk?" Farai shrugs. "Okay. Well, take both your canes, and I'll help you too."

Farai does as Aaron says, and they stick an arm under her shoulders as well, supporting them. It's a bit awkward but it keeps them upright, allows them to put one foot in front of the other until they collapse at the table.

"Here you are," says Phoenix with a smile and a flourish. "Coco pops and a banana. And some, um, some jaffa cakes for me. Which I am, um, going to eat the proper way, thank you very much, Aaron."

Aaron chuckles and shakes their head. "You and your jaffa cake eating."

Farai brings a small spoonful to their mouth tentatively, and when no-one stops them practically inhales the rest.

"Hey, careful, you'll be sick," warns Aaron. Farai swallows the last of the cereal.

"Sorry, sir."

"It's okay. You'll get the hang of it. And it's Aaron, not sir."

"Sorry, s– sorry."

Aaron nods.

They eat in silence for a while, before Phoenix opens their mouth, then closes it. Then they say hesitantly, "I heard that you, um, had lots of tattoos. What– I mean, do you, um, not have any on your arm?"

And that's too much. After everything, after all the unexpected kindness, and then– to ask this? That she remembers so vividly, so painfully, because they did it in several harsh sessions, without any pain relief, and so much has happened since but nothing quite as bad as that. Nothing that hurt so much. Nothing quite so personal, so intimate, so callous. It's not like she could've used them, anyway.

Farai can't help it. She bursts into tears.

[saturniere]

you know what. i can’t finish the reference sheet for my mc. but i still want to show him off a bit bc he’s pretty. so here’s a shitpost

[the-tigrou]

"Say 'Skxawng' !" Farai just discovered the joy to play and take fancy pics with her new Sky People friend THEY SO PRECIOUS OMAGAD Farai © @karoe13chan Ciara © me

[transmascmothman]

new star wars oc dropped time to ship them with a canon character😙

[btchwzrd]

happy wip tuesday

[kikokushya]

My DnD Satyr Oc, Farai ✨

[Oc: Farai Wyrmspire]

[youwouldntlietopapa]

In Sickness and in Health - Chapter 2

Rating: 18+

Features: Secondo x OC (Ophelia), Papa I/Primo

Tags: anxiety, sick character, comfort, domestic fluff, personal growth

(Also available on AO3)

____________________________________________

The wait for Primo wasn’t a long one. Secondo knew that. He’d checked the time often enough to be sure. Not that it made the time go by any faster. He still ended up pacing, back and forth, the entire length of his quarters and back. Stopping each time around to look into the bedroom to make sure Ophelia was still asleep and not in need of anything. Fussing and worrying over someone had always struck him as an exhausting way to spend one’s time and now that he’d ended up in that very position, he found he had been right. Just not in the ways he’d thought. 

The knock at the door stopped him in his tracks, turning around and striding over to answer. Not running. Simply taking advantage of having long enough legs to get there quickly. And calmly. And remaining rational. As always. Primo stood in the hall. Or, more accurately, across the hall. Reaching out to him with a long pair of tongs he had to assume his brother had liberated from the kitchens. Holding out a bag full of things Secondo could smell without opening it.

“Che cazzo stai facendo?”

Primo poked the bag at him a little insistently. “She is sick. You are covered in germs. I come to help, not to join you.”

Secondo rolled his eyes and took the bag. “And this?”

“That is the help you ask for. The tea, she drinks as much as she wants. Honey if she wants more sweet. The balm, on the chest, si?” He rubbed his sternum to demonstrate. “It will help with the cough, clear out her head a bit.”

“Tea… and balm?” It wasn’t that he was ungrateful, but looking at the two remedies, he didn’t feel terribly confident either. “È tutto?”

Primo gave him a small, gentle smile and sighed. “È malata, fratellino. Il tè aiuterà. Così sarà la crema. Ma ciò di cui ha bisogno è riposo, cure e tempo. Non posso darti quelle cose.” He looked at his younger brother knowingly. “Non esiste una risposta rapida che risolva tutte le tue preoccupazioni. Vorrei averne uno per te. Ma ecco cosa vuol dire preoccuparsi così tanto di qualcuno. Ti preoccupi di queste cose. Come se mi preoccupassi per te e Terzo. Ma passerà. Prometto. Starà bene. E lo farai anche tu.”

For a long moment, Secondo worked his jaw and stared hard at the floor. He couldn’t even argue what he’d said, and that was only more annoying. “The worry can go anytime.”

“The worry?” Primo chuckled. “No, no, no. Sickness passes. The worry is forever. But, I think maybe, it feels not so bad if you tell her.”

He frowned deeply. “Tell her what?”

“The truth.” His older brother smiled again, turning and walking off down the hall while Secondo watched him go. As if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb before going. 

He stepped back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. The bag in his hand felt heavier than before. Not just carrying the things Primo had brought, but a lifetime of built up baggage he wasn’t sure he could simply put down. Cazzo. Maybe the horrible green syrup Ophelia had left on her night stand wasn’t such a bad option after all. At least all that did was make her drowsy. It didn’t turn up at his door to smile while it beat him bloody. 

When I asked for guidance, this wasn’t exactly what I was picturing…

The tea could stay in the kitchenette until it was needed while he took the balm with him. Across the apartment, the bedroom remained undisturbed, Ophelia’s raspy breathing was still as steady as a metronome. Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, he watched her for a minute, trying to decide on what the right answer was. Waking her felt cruel, but reaching down her top while she was sick and unconscious sat very badly. Secondo cupped her cheek, running his thumb along her cheekbone. Maybe it was the wrong answer, but he kissed her forehead in an effort to wake her as gently as possible. 

Tell her the truth? That doesn’t help me right now. 

Her hand found his wrist and she cracked open an eye, trying to piece together where she was exactly. Looking up at him as the fog began to clear. “Secondo…”

“Primo brings something to help you feel better. But I need to put it on your chest.” He kept his voice low. “Will you let me see?”

Ophelia rolled onto her back. Too tired and too sick to worry much about anything. Still, she smirked. “You don’t need to make excuses to feel me up, you know.”

“Is bad enough I have Primo torturing me without you joining.” He shook his head and sighed, though the corner of his mouth turned up. 

The smile, however, was short lived. As soon as she laughed, it turned into a cough. Rolling back on to her side and burying her face in her elbow to keep from coughing all over him. Secondo rushed to set the glass jar down and rub her back, unsure of what else to do. When it passed, Ophelia groaned, keeping still for a moment to catch her breath. She did, at least, accept a glass of water and drank half before handing it back. That one simple thing providing an embarrassing amount of relief he tried not to think too hard about. She was typically the one reminding him to drink enough during the day and the warnings about getting dehydrated echoed in his head. 

“See? If you don’t tease, this doesn’t happen.” His smile came creeping back. 

“If I don’t tease, then you’ll worry I am dying.” She winked.

The balm from Primo had a herbal, medicinal smell that he always associated with his brother’s remedies. It melted easily in the warmth of his hand, and Ophelia kept still to let him rub it into her skin. Maybe it was only his imagination, but she did seem to breathe easier. With that finished, with Primo come and gone, all the reasons he had to wait were dealt with. Secondo climbed into the other side of the bed and pulled her closer, giving into the urge that had been threatening to drive him mad. Tucking her against his chest protectively, kissing the top of her head, they were things he’d done a hundred times before. Things he didn’t have to think about or worry over. He didn’t have to wonder if it was the right thing to do when she’d already curled up against his chest, pressing as closely as she could manage.

“Thank you.” Her voice still rasped, but he knew better than to expect a miracle cure. Ophelia looked up at him, reaching for his face and rubbing her thumb over the deep line between his brows. “That’s a lot of worry built up right here. I’ll be alright, really.”

“Lo so. Ancora non mi piace vederti malato.” He gently took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Later, when you feel like eating, I make pastina. It cures everything, you know?”

She smiled weakly and hugged his chest. “What did I ever do to deserve you, hmm?”

“It must be something terrible, cara mia, for such a punishment.” He hugged her a little tighter, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. “Dormire un po. Non vado da nessuna parte. Prometto.”

……

For the first time in a very long time, Secondo allowed himself to relax enough to nap. Only waking when Ophelia stirred. Rolling away to not cough on him. All he could really do was wait and rub her back. When the coughing fit passed, she flopped back onto the mattress and groaned again. Typically it was a sight he’d be rather proud of, but this wasn’t anything that sparked pride. Only worry. 

“Let me run a bath for you. Steam will help.” He heard Primo’s words coming out of his mouth without even thinking about it. Things his brother had said as they were growing up, trying to keep their tiny, broken family from falling further into chaos.

Ophelia nodded and did her best to shove herself up to sitting, rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “I’m sorry I woke you.” 

He waved away the apology, standing and stretching. “Fay, how many times do I tell you? No sorry. You are sick. You don’t do this on purpose.” Secondo offered his hand. “Come. Bath.”

She took his hand and the help up gratefully. Smirking just a little as she hooked a finger in the waistband of his sweatpants, snapping them softly against his hip. “Did you wear these just for me?”

Secondo looked down at her with a hint of a sly smile. “I think maybe they make you feel better too.”

“Oh, I am definitely not complaining.” She leaned against his side, letting her hand trail over his ass. 

Ophelia leaned back against one end of the tub, her chin just above the steaming water, knees poking above the surface when she curled herself up. Secondo considered places to sit and, between the toilet and the edge of the tub, neither seemed like good solutions. Eventually grabbing the small, decorative stool some decorator had left there before he’d even moved in. He set the very low seat next to her and managed to only grunt a little when he lowered himself down. Though he wasn’t sure if it was kindness or illness that kept her from teasing. His fingers traced lightly over her knee and skimmed the water. Watching as her hand came up to meet his, only just catching his fingertips that sank beneath the surface. 

The quiet felt like a delicate thing and, when he spoke, it was only more than a whisper. “Mi sei mancato ieri sera.”

His hand dipped lower and her fingers held onto his more securely. “I missed you too. I was so tired and it still took almost half an hour to fall asleep. It didn’t feel right without you there.”

Secondo stared back at her, wondering once more how he ever had the sheer dumb luck to find someone who could say a thing like that with honesty. Who had managed to shut down every measure he’d put in place to keep people at arm’s length and convinced him that it wasn’t just a line or a trick. Who made him see that there could be more and that he could have it if he just reached out and took it. “The game was not so important. I should put you first.”

“You didn’t put the game first.” She looked at him sternly. “I didn’t want you to miss out on something you enjoy because I was sleepy. I told you to watch. I decided to sleep in my own quarters. How many times do I tell you? No sorry.”

He snorted, unable to argue with his own words. “I do miss out on something I enjoy when you are not here.”

Ophelia blushed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll stay next time. You have my word. I’d rather listen to you shouting at the tv than be alone in my room wishing you were there.” She smiled a little wider. “How was the game, by the way? I didn’t even ask. Did Terzo come over?”

“The game…” He made a sour face. “They lose. And Terzo was here, si. You are lucky you don’t see him today. You think I have a bad mood? Chi lo dice non ha mai visto Terzo scontroso.”

“Tell me about it?” She paused. “The game, not Terzo.”

As she’d been spending more time with him and more nights in his quarters, he’d taken it upon himself to try and teach her about football. Fortunately, it had been relatively simple to remove the word soccer from the conversation. A first step he’d expected to take much longer. After that, it had mainly been going over rules and trying to teach her who the players were and why each was important. And, while she’d picked up a lot of it without too much difficulty, he was sure she was still more interested in it because it was important to him than out of her own interest. A fact that never stopped her from asking about any game she wasn’t there to see for herself. All too happy to listen to him recount every single detail. Something he wasn’t too big a fool to see for the gesture it was. One he had come to appreciate immensely. 

She shifted closer as if waiting for a bedtime story, and he did his best to tell her all about everything she’d missed without a full demonstration of how loudly he and his younger brother had actually gotten. 

……

Dinner wasn’t fancy by any means. Not that he couldn’t cook, only that pastina was what they’d always eaten as children when they were sick. When he really stopped to think about it, the last time he’d made any was probably about that time. For Terzo, if he had to guess. Primo had always done his best to be attentive and his remedies, even then, were better than Secondo would ever manage. But he also had official duties. So it had fallen to him, on several occasions, to take care of his little brother. In the best way he knew how. Apparently old habits really do die hard. 

Ophelia sat propped up in bed, accepting the tray happily. Once he was sitting next to her with his own dinner, she tipped sideways to rest against his side. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked and squeaked, though Primo’s balm took the edge off the worst of it. “I think this is the first time you’ve cooked for me.”

“I won’t wait so long next time.” His warm hand gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Eat, Fay. For me.”

She kissed his shoulder and did as she was told without argument. Every spoonful she took, every sip of tea, calmed his worries a little more. Until she nudged his arm and nodded toward his own bowl. His attention snapping back to his dinner. Ophelia only smiled and cuddled a little closer. She was, by every possible metric, a much better patient than Terzo had ever been.

“I don’t suppose this means it will be easier to get you to drink enough water during the day and to eat regular meals, does it?” The cheeky smile he knew too well crept across her features. 

“I drink all day now.” Secondo protested with a smirk. 

“Coffee doesn’t count.”

“Fine, I-”

“Neither does espresso. Or alcohol.”

“There is w-”

“Wine is alcohol.

He huffed dramatically. “You take all the fun out, tesoro.”

“Mmm, so I do.” Nothing in her tone sounded apologetic. “I have this very strange quirk where I’d like you to stay healthy and taken care of for as long as possible.”

“Oh? You think I am so old?” Secondo leaned closer and kissed the top of her head. “I am doing better. On my life. For you.”

“I know you are. And don’t think it goes unappreciated.” She said sincerely. “You’re not the only one who worries, you know.”

He couldn’t help chuckling. Short of his brothers, he could confidently say no one had ever worried about him more. His arm slipped around her side, tucking her a little closer. Letting himself sink into the comfort of their familiarity and the ease he’d found in talking with her. The Dark One only knew how much work it had been to find that ease and how close he’d come to disaster. Taking it for granted now felt like the worst sort of foolishness. More than that, he didn’t want to take it for granted. He didn’t want to get complacent. If this was a blessing, a gift, he wanted to be worthy of it. 

A realisation that brought Primo’s words rushing back.

Tell her the truth. 

“I know, Fay.” He said quietly, resting his hand on her hip, thumb rubbing slow circles over her skin. “Don’t think it goes unappreciated.”

……

To her credit, she managed to eat three-quarters of the bowl before giving up. The tea went down a little easier. Two mugs and she sounded much clearer after it all. When he’d become the sort of person to be mentally cataloguing everything she’d had to eat and drink throughout the day, he wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t seem to stop either. At least it didn’t sit so close to the front of his mind the more he was convinced she’d had enough not to end up more sick. 

Dishes cleared away, Secondo took his place in bed next to her again. Trying to ignore how the exhaustion seemed to have seeped into his bones and the start of a headache blooming behind his eyes. The tickle in his throat was surely just a bit of dust in the air. Pollen maybe, from Primo earlier. Even if he had kept his distance. It was nothing. Absolutely refusing to mention any of it to her. If he was getting sick, and that was an if, there was no reason to actually admit it to anyone when he could simply muscle through. He could sleep it off. Nothing to fuss over. 

Besides, he reasoned, she’d only feel worse. 

The tv flickered in the dark with some old movie they’d watched before. The volume turned low, barely background noise. And Ophelia was there, as soon as he laid down. Curling close and he could feel her tension slip away, just having him near, taking his own with it. Some dark magic she possessed, he had decided a long time before. Yet it caught him off guard every time. The one time of the day he felt like he could really breathe, lulled further into the peaceful quiet by her nails dancing over his back. His arms wrapped around her and he wondered how he’d ever managed to sleep without her there. 

Not well. Secondo reminded himself. How many sleepless nights? Or sleep that was found at the bottom of a bottle, that only came when you’d worn yourself out so thoroughly you had no other choice. When did you ever fall asleep so easy?

“Secondo?” Ophelia’s voice was so soft he nearly missed it. 

“Mmm?”

“You know you didn’t really need to fuss over me so much today.” She said gently, curling her fingers through his chest hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful. Just… I don’t want you to think you need to drop everything for me. I know you’re busy and I know you hate being sick. I can’t and I won’t ever expect you to leave your dut-”

“Ophelia.” He cut her off and waited for her to look at him. He could hear the guilt hiding just beneath the words, despite his best efforts… If he ever got his hands on the person who taught her that guilt. Every time she needed help. Every time she thought she was a burden. It was as close as she ever got to letting her fire dim to nothing, trying to make herself small, and apologising for the slight of existing. Someone had taught her that. He could remember the lessons he’d learned just as well. His teacher might have gone unpunished, but hers… She deserved better.

Secondo delicately combed her hair back. “What do you tell me, ah? You are allowed to need help. This is not failing, only life. If is true for me, is true for you. Si? And I don’t do this because I think I have to. I do this because I want to.”

Tell her the truth.

The truth that had been staring him in the face from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. That he’d been trying to ignore. That he’d been struggling to put a name to like some goddamned child. Satanas, I’m worse than Copia.

“... Because I love you, Ophelia.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the sense of relief threatened to overwhelm him. How long had he been holding his breath? How long had that once sentence been weighing on him? How had he ever convinced himself that he may not ever say the words or be capable of feeling even a fraction of what he already felt - before she’d come back to him, before she’d ever walked out, before he’d ever even known the taste of her on his lips?   

“Ti amo e se non posso esserci per te quando hai bisogno di me, come posso pensare che il mio amore significhi qualcosa? Come posso pensare di valere se non posso prendermi cura di te? Voglio prendermi cura di te, Fay. Voglio essere lì per te. Perché ti amo e ho bisogno di te e ho promesso che sarei stato migliore.”

For a moment that felt like an eternity, she stared at him. As he opened his mouth to something, anything, to fill the silence, her face crumpled. Ophelia sobbed and whatever it was he’d planned to say died on his tongue. Secondo wasn’t exactly sure what sort of response he’d expected, but it definitely wasn’t that. 

“Fay, I-”

All at once, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, hugging him fiercely. Holding on like he might vanish if she let go. “I love you too, you fucking asshole.”

He tried not to laugh. Lucifer help him, he tried. But the whiplash of reactions caught him off guard and he couldn’t hold it back. Wrapping his arms around her in return. “Sei sicuro di questo?”

Pulling back to look at him, her expression was caught somewhere between laughing and strangling him. “I have been listening to you say it without words for so long and then you actually say it, outloud, when I am disgustingly sick? All I want to do is kiss you and there is no way I am doing that to you right now, when I’m stuffed up and sound like someone’s chain-smoking Nonna.” She took a breath, sniffling again and pawing at her eyes. Sinking back into him. “I love you. Of course I love you. You don’t have any idea how much I wanted to say it.”

“You… are waiting for me?”

“I didn’t forget what you said when we talked things over. And I meant it when I said I understood. I didn’t ever want you to feel pressured.”

He hadn’t forgotten what he’d said either. A lot of things that came from a place of fear, based in bullshit he was trying to unlearn, trying to avoid expectations that never really existed. And those words haunted him. The prison he built for himself was never supposed to be for her too.

“Forgive me. Please.” He hugged her a little tighter. “I don’t mean to hold you back. Not like this. It was stupid and stubborn. Mi dispiace, amore mio.”

“Shush. No sorry.” Ophelia said sternly but not unkindly. “Ti amo, Secondo. Con tutto il mio cuore. Lo prometto, non mi trattengo più.”

“No more, Ophelia. You have my word.”

_________________________________________________

Che cazzo stai facendo? = What the fuck are you doing?

È tutto? = That’s all?

È malata, fratellino. Il tè aiuterà. Così sarà la crema. Ma ciò di cui ha bisogno è riposo, cure e tempo. Non posso darti quelle cose. = She is sick, little brother. The tea will help. So will the cream. But what she needs is rest, care, and time. I can't give you those things.

Non esiste una risposta rapida che risolva tutte le tue preoccupazioni. Vorrei averne uno per te. Ma ecco cosa vuol dire preoccuparsi così tanto di qualcuno. Ti preoccupi di queste cose. Come se mi preoccupassi per te e Terzo. Ma passerà. Prometto. Starà bene. E lo farai anche tu. = There isn't a quick answer that will fix all your worries. I wish I had one for you. But this is what it's like to care about someone that much. You worry about these things. Like I worry about you and Terzo. But it will pass. I promise. She will be fine. And so will you.

Lo so. Ancora non mi piace vederti malato. = I know. I still don’t like seeing you sick.

Dormire un po. Non vado da nessuna parte. Prometto. = Get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.

Mi sei mancato ieri sera. = I missed you last night.

Chi lo dice non ha mai visto Terzo scontroso. = Anyone who says that has never seen Terzo grumpy.

Ti amo e se non posso esserci per te quando hai bisogno di me, come posso pensare che il mio amore significhi qualcosa? Come posso pensare di valere se non posso prendermi cura di te? Voglio prendermi cura di te, Fay. Voglio essere lì per te. Perché ti amo e ho bisogno di te e ho promesso che sarei stato migliore. = I love you and if I can't be there for you when you need me, how can I think that my love means anything? How can I think I'm worthy if I can't take care of you? I want to take care of you, Fay. I want to be there for you. Because I love you and I need you and I promised I would be better.

Sei sicuro di questo? = Are you sure about that?

Mi dispiace, amore mio. = I’m sorry, my love.

Ti amo, Secondo. Con tutto il mio cuore. Lo prometto, non mi trattengo più. = I love you, Secondo. With all my heart. I promise, no more holding back.

[gamebird]

The Ship Manifest: Actual Murderbot shipping numbers

I looked at what had been updated on AO3 in the last month in the Murderbot Diaries tag. It was a nice even 50 works.

Of these, 10 are Murderbot/Gurathin and 9 of those were updated in the 8 days. 4 of those were multichapter fics and a couple of those multichapter fics published multiple chapters.

3 fics were MB/ART, with one of those 3 fics being counted in the MB/G ones as well. The other two are single chapter, one of which is Rape, I know some people filter those out.

The Murderathin surge is kinda unusual. Multiple multi-chapter fics finished in the last week, several short stories inspired by each other or bits of art were put out there. And then there's the art, some of which hasn't even been posted here on Tumblr.

But with all that, like I say, non-ship stuff is still over 75%. And for the fandom as a whole, it's more like 90% (I ran the numbers just a couple weeks ago).

----

Here, from 7/17/23, looking at all ship fic in TMBD tag:

Let's see what's changed in a year!

To start, we had 960 fics roughly July 2022. Now (7/17/23) we have 1,825. Almost double!

If I exclude & and look only at / ships: 79 ART/MB (was 24 a year ago) 49 Gurathin/MB (was 17 a year ago) 35 Arada/Overse (wasn't in the top 10 a year ago) 12* MB/3 11* Amena/Iris 8* Farai/Mensah/Tano 6* MB/Mensah 5* Bharadwaj/Pin-Lee 5 ART/CSU 5 OC/OC 4* Gurathin/Thiago 3 01/02/03 2* MB/OC 2 ART/3 2* ART/Ratthi 8* Gurathin/Ratthi 3* Gurathin/3 and Gurathin/3/OC 2 Gurathin/OC 1* Ratthi/Miki 1* ART/Gurathin/Ratthi 1* Ratthi/3 1* Mensah/Pin-Lee 1 Ratthi/3/Pin-Lee 1 MB/Reader 1 ART/OC 1 Arada/Overse

The first three ships listed and any with * are definite in their number. The rest are put together by excluding all other pairings in a clumsy attempt to get AO3 to tell me more than the top 10 stats or forcing me to do a tag search.

245 "/" ship fics out of 1,825 is 13.42%. We were 6% last time, although I suspect I didn't know how to search quite as well as I do now. Even if I only look at the top 10 relationship options this time, we're still at 8.93%. So! There are more ship fics than there used to be, percentage-wise. But still ... not that many as a percent of total fics out there.

Now to look at Explicit fics!

78 Explicit fics (22 last year) ART/MB - 36 (6 last year) No / pairing listed - 8 Not sex - 6 (2 last year) Gurathin/MB - 5 (1 last year) OC/MB - 4 (None last year) OC / OC - 3 (1 last year) ART/OC - 2 (1 last year) Amena/Iris - 2 (1 last year) ART/Ratthi - 2 (1 last year) ART/3 - 2 (1 last year) Gurathin/OC - 2 (None last year) The rest are one-offs: 3/MB, 3/ART, Ratthi/Arada/Overse, MB/Everyone, Arada/Overse, ART/Gurathin.

Also: ART/MB - 36 (18 of which are rape, rape-elements, or non-con) No / pairing listed - 8 (6 of which are rape, rape-elements, or non-con) OC/MB - 4 (4 of which are rape, rape-elements, or non-con) Gurathin/MB - 5 (2 of which are rape, rape-elements, or non-con) One-offs for rape: Gurathin/OC, OC/OC, MB/Everyone.

All figures are derived solely by reading the characters/relationships listed, tags, and warnings.

Reading through the first of 4 pages of returns (66 entries) on unrated fics shows none whose tags indicate shipping, sex, or rape. So not an impact to the numbers reported above.

We have 27 works that are not in English. We have 221 works that include the word 'podfic' in a field.

23 works by Anonymous, 3 by orphan_account (one of those 3 is a finished fic that is part of a series with 3 other named authors - the other 2 fics appear to be truly orphaned)

Highest word count is Variable Affection at 204k. Next is Properties NULL at 104k. Third is the ongoing Corporate and the Construct at 84k as of today.

[Important note discovered later: I have double-counted some shippy fics. I ended up counting the fic once for every pairing listed. This artificially skews the numbers higher than they really are. I figure it's around 10%ish ship-fic.]

[ndostairlyrium]

Hey!! <3

3 for each of them

19 for Elanor

13 and 15 for Hawke

6 and 13 for Ankh

4 for whichever OC you'd like!

!!! Thank you so much dear!! Also I'm totally stealing your layout lol This had me listening to some tracks I hadn't heard to in a loooong time, so I'm super happy! I wish I could cook you some pasta right now ;;

3 - a boss battle song for fighting my muse

(Watch your ears if they are sensitive <<)

Elanor: This happens to be her theme song either. When she goes full berserk she's an unstoppable vulcano of that rage she was forced to repress through the years. I thought this was the most appropriate.

(youtube link) Honorable mentions: All Nightmare Long by Metallica (yt link), Steel by Battle Beast (yt link)

Hawke: A vibrant punk rock cover of a song from lgbtq+ icon Raffaella Carrà (bless her soul). It fits him, it's a banger, watch fire coming down the sky unexpectedly.

(youtube link) - the original (it's so 70s I'm gonna die and resurrect omgg)

Dark Souls Boss Ankh: Honestly, I was tempted to just browse Wagner and call it a day, but the album Cult from Apocalyptica has some serious "This boss will take you three hours" vibes so I had to just sit down and pick the most nervous track ever.

(youtube link)

The Singles

Ela

19 - a song that plays while my muse studies/works

I already stated that Elanor gives me the idea that she's into thrash, so I'll act accordingly - aka I'm brushing off the dust from my physical copy of Cowboys from Hell because that album has some serious and underrated gems that she would love << I remember doing my whole presentation on Gericault for Art History I with this album (and Rust in Peace lol) in the background, so I guess it would work for her too? Hah

(youtube link)

Hawke

13 - a song dedicated to on of my muse’s ships

Already replied here

15 - a song that my muse would play at their wedding

So, it has to be stupid, right? Right? Also check this artist out, her covers are gorgeous ;;

(youtube link)

Ankh

6 - a song that makes my muse want to dance

The girl doesn't dance, the girl gets in the mosh pit and makes victims.

(youtube link)

Seriously tho, she does dance pretty decently (thanks Josie for those hardcore dance lessons before Halamshiral <<), but you'll never catch her listening to valzer in her free time lol

13 - a song dedicated to on of my muse’s ships (specify ship)

Already replied here

Bonus:

4 - a song lyric that describes my muse

For this I'm picking Hawke:

Se dolore ti farai - If you become pain Io starò attento - I'll be careful A ricucire i tagli - Stitching the wounds Senza stringere mai - Without tighten them

Incantevole by Subsonica (yt link)

Music Meme

[voiceofmany]

This is a permanent starter call for Farai Richardson, a Stardew Valley OC!

A short blurb of info about them may be found [here], and their full bio is [here]!

[pigeonwhumps]

Villain whumpee au: character intros 1

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Let's be honest. It's not really a surprise that I've made another au for this series. But without further ado, the characters (well, some, I didn't have space for all the picrews lol)

Full-body picrew here.

Farai

Pronouns: she/they

AKA: Nightbolt

Powers: super-powered tattoos, night vision, portalling short distances

Phoenix

Pronouns: they/them

AKA: Firebird

Powers: immortality, illusion-creating, camouflage

[wingedcatp]

Rashid and Farai showing some moves~

________ Commisions-Form-Trello|Picarto|Youtube|Ko-Fi|Twitter|Facebook| Toyhouse|FurAffinity|DeviantArt|Patreon|ArtistsNClients

[witchcraftbackstories-blog]

Aleko Farai

Name: Aleko Farai ( Al-echo Fuh-ray )

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic Type: Water

Major Arcana: The Hanged Man

Zodiac: Aries (April 2nd)

Title: The Dramatic

Reason For Title: Oh honey… Aleko is only rivaled in the art of drama by Julian Devorak himself. Aleko lives for drama and will probably fight you over his “theatrical skills”.

Species: Human

Looks: Aleko has moderately long hair, currently dyed green for the sake of looking cool. He has dark, chocolate black skin and naturally brown eyes. However, using a slight shimmer spell, he makes them look red. Again, he likes looking cool. He’s quite lanky, and very tall. He’s exactly 6’5”, and weighs 190 lbs. He has a birthmark in the shape of a little sun like shape where his collarbones meet. He also has a somewhat small lip scar, on the left side of his mouth. He has rather “large” lips, and naturally wide eyes.

Clothing Style: Aleko usually wears baggy sweaters and jeans, with bracelets that he never takes off and a cross necklace. He has a ring lip piercing on the right side of his mouth. And boy does he love goth boots.

Religion: Agnostic

Personality: Aleko is actually a pretty sweet kid. He tends to care more about others than he ever will himself. He’s very bad a self care and will sacrifice anything and everything to ensure someone’s safety, if they are close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s the literal definition of drama. Not as much as his beloved Julian Devorak, but pretty freaking close. He’s very theatrical and sees almost every situation as one that he can be dramatic in. It’s even worse due to how fandom oriented he is.

Nationality: Zimbabwean

Languages Spoken: English, French, Xhosa

Likes:

Baking - Baking tends to calm Aleko down in even the worst situation. He does this to calm down, feel happy, or help others feel happy. Or he just does it because he wants to.

Singing - Aleko never sings often, because he honestly isn’t that great at it. He prefers to spare others the “horribleness” of his voice.

Writing - Aleko writes a lot. He writes poems, stories, backgrounds for characters he’ll never use, etc. Aleko builds his own worlds and lives in them, trying to save himself from his own problems and self-doubt.

Dislikes:

Bugs - Literally any kind of bug absolutely disgusts Aleko. He despises them more than anything in the world. Which is a lot of hate for Aleko.

Pianos - Pianos remind him of his mother, who is now deceased. She used to play the piano all the time. He loved more than any song in the whole world. Now, they just bring back bad memories.

Rot - It literally doesn’t matter what kind of rot it is. If it’s rotting, Aleko doesn’t want to be near it. He turned down so many colleges and apartments because they had composition piles.

Fears:

Rats - One of his lesser fears.

Spiders - A major fear.

Bees - Boy does he hate bees.

Lightning - A major fear ( he’s afraid he’ll get struck ).

Animals: Snake and Crow

Pets:

Sweetie - A python.

Cackle - A raven.

Prosthetics:

His entire right leg.

Tattoos: A water rune on his left shoulder blade. A small snake along his right collarbone. A small raven near his bottom left side.

| Admin - Mocha |

[lilhawkeye3]

Some sketches for y’all: Hart, Nite, Gunner, and as a bonus, Farai!

(Her hair is supposed to be a dark purple but I got lazy lmao)

Ruby and Gold / To-Do List: the Corries!

This list will be updated when I come up with more descriptions (and when it's not 5 AM).

Alloy, Bolt and Copper were submitted by Abi-chan fiction fan on FFN.

Aces: Captain. Short dark brown hair with a bit of curl, golden eyes. Has an "86" tattooed next to his left eye. Always manages to have a deck of cards stowed away.

Alloy: Mismatched eye colors: one gold, the other silver (hence, his name is related to a mixture of metals).

Bolt: Two small yellow lightning bolts starting from his temples, and zigzaging vertically until the middle of his head.

Copper: Regular clone haircut, no facial hair, but with two copper colored strips tatooed on each cheek. His batchmates are Alloy and Bolt.

Gunner: Vertical scar on his lower lip and down his chin. Regular haircut, light brown eyes. He has tally marks on his chest for every new gun he has to request. This boy is so in love with Farai it's adorable. (He ends up writing her name over his heart.)

Hart: Medic. This man has a permanent 5 o'clock shadow. His brothers wanted him to put a heart on his armor, so he met them halfway and painted an anatomical one on his chestplate.

Jax: trimmed beard and mustache, buzzcut dark brown hair and eyes.

Looper: black hair, buzzcut. Dark brown eyes. Decorated armor with full circles that loop around his chest and limbs, and the base of his helmet.

Nite: Sergeant. Named for @flybynite19 because I love her. Brown eyes, short dark brown hair, dimples when he grins. Four red tattoo marks above his right eyebrow, a line down the center of his chin, and from his forehead along right jawline with a smaller line on his cheek that matches his helmet markings.

Pike: He got all the paint he could and just... drenched his arm and leg guards in it. Some even got on his gloves permenantly. Sometimes people think his hands are bloody.

[ketzelfeathers]

a couple of ocs relating to my dnd character naliaka! first is her sister (who's name i've forgotten) and her daughter farai (though i was experimenting with her hair color)

[youwouldntlietopapa]

First Impressions - Chapter 2

Rating: 18+

Features: Secondo x OC (Ophelia)

Tags: developing relationship, crush at first sight, brothers being brothers

(Also available on AO3)

____________________________________________________

In the weeks that followed the meeting, it would have been more than fair to call Secondo distracted. Which was unusual for him. Unusual and uncomfortable. But he didn’t seem able to help himself. The headstrong Sister occupied every thought that he didn’t keep a tight hold on. Every time his mind wandered, it wandered back to her. The minor rush of chaos after she’d walked out of the meeting. The dozen emails he’d dealt with afterward. The hint of a smile and the fire in her eyes when she’d looked at him. 

He silently chastised himself again. It was foolishness. At best. A weakness was more like it. To let someone, anyone, consume his thoughts so completely after what could barely be called an introduction. She was one sibling among many. One woman among even more. He knew this without a doubt, he’d taken many of them into his bed. Why should this one be anything more? It was nothing he couldn’t master. Nothing that couldn’t be solved with one night to get it out of his system. And yet…

Weeks. It had been weeks. He hadn’t managed anything more than developing some rather embarrassing new habits. Wandering the grounds at lunch because he’d noticed she preferred to eat out there. Looking in on Choir practice as if it had ever been a priority before. Spending an ever increasing amount of time in the library, browsing the shelves that provided a view of her office. He didn’t need anyone to point out to him that his behaviour was verging on unhinged. Like some giant creep who was, by nature, as far from inconspicuous as a person could get. But when had his younger brother ever needed to be asked for his input?

“You are in here again??” Terzo said, too loudly for the quiet space. 

Secondo hissed in annoyance and moved further behind the shelf between him and her office door. “It is the library, idiota! Keep your voice down.”

He dropped his voice into a stage whisper that, frankly, wasn’t much better than his usual volume. “Oh so now we are quiet and spending all our time in here? Since when?”

“You think I am not allowed to come find my own books?” Secondo snapped back. 

“Allowed? Si. Willing? No.” Terzo smirked and looked over the shelf he was standing next to, plucking out a book and holding it up. “Rites and Rituals of the Blood Moon: Witchcraft of the womb and menstrual cycle? If this is your plans for her, I think maybe you take her to dinner first, fratello. Seems only polite.”

He grabbed the book from his little brother and smacked him with it. “Se hai qualcosa da dire, dillo e basta. Basta con queste sciocchezze.”

“What is there to say?” Terzo rubbed his arm where the book caught him. “I am not blind and you are not stupid. You follow her around like a… well not like the puppy. You are not so cute. Like a terrifying shadow. Standing outside her office, trying to look like you need a book so bad. Every day. For days.”

“You exaggerate.” He grunted unconvincingly. 

It was his turn to smack Secondo. “Since when are you so afraid to ask, ah?”

“I am not afraid!” 

“Oh, si? So you just act like a stalker as a new hobby?” He nodded toward Ophelia’s half open office door. “Maybe I ask her out first, since you don’t.”

Secondo’s expression hardened and he drew himself up to his full height, glaring down at his brother. “Farai quello che vuoi, come sempre, Terzo. La vuoi così tanto, prendila. Ce ne sono altri. Molti altri.” He growled deeply and pushed past him, storming out in a swirl of robes and anger. 

Terzo watched him go, a half formed apology dying on his tongue. It was a delicate balance, pushing him out of his comfort zone or getting him to confront his feelings. And Terzo, admittedly, wasn’t much of a delicate touch with those things. Still, the guilt twisted in his stomach, wondering if he’d managed to spoil the entire thing. He glanced back over at the new Sibling that had his brother so twisted in knots and sighed, weighing the chances that he’d end up dead if he meddled. 

At least Primo would protect him. Probably. 

Ophelia looked up from her work when he knocked, moving to stand when she saw who it was, but he waved for her to keep her seat. “How can I be of service, Papa?” She asked calmly. 

“Oh no, no. I don’t come here for business, Sorella. Only I realise there is a new sibling here, one who is very experienced in the Ministry. And I am failing in my duties to make her welcome.” He tsk-ed and shook his head, dropping into the chair across from her dramatically. “I don’t even introduce myself properly or ask your name.”

She stared back at him looking amused, even if she was holding back. “I can assure you, Papa Terzo, you need no introduction. Your reputation far exceeds you.”

He couldn’t help looking pleased with himself taking it as a great compliment. “Ah, but you don’t tell me your name, Sorella.”

“Ophelia.” She offered her hand. 

Terzo took it more delicately than the shake she’d offered, turning her hand to kiss it. “A pleasure, Ophelia. I hear you make an impression with Seestor when they offer to make you Imperatrix. And with my brother. I hope he is not the one who puts you off the idea. Usually I am the one for those meetings, but he says yes first this time.”

She chuckled softly and tactfully retrieved her hand. “No, not at all. I was very honoured he took the time from his day.” Her expression turned a bit suspicious. “Have you come to try and change my mind, Papa?”

“No! No, no, no. Nothing like this. On my life, Sorella.” He held up his hands in surrender. “The decision is yours and, if you don’t mind, I say it is impressive to say no when everyone is watching. Most people? They can’t do it. They crumble when the spotlight is on. Perhaps you teach me your tricks, ah? I am terrible at saying no.”

Her look stayed suspicious even as a smirk crept onto her lips. “So I have been told.”

Terzo blinked at her for a long moment, not quite sure he’d heard correctly. But no. No, he had definitely heard her. All at once, he tipped his head back and laughed. “I see now why Seestor doesn’t like you!”

“I suspect she has many reasons.” 

He waved away the comment like a fly. “That one has a list for all of us. I am near the top, I know. Consider it a badge of honour. She hates the best.”

Ophelia considered him for a moment, looking him over in a way that he wasn’t accustomed to. As if she could read him like a book. It was an odd position to be in but he tried to keep a calm expression. 

“May I be candid, Papa?”

“Of course.” He put on his best charming smile. 

“Are you trying to make a move? I don’t like to presume but, as I said, reputation.” Ophelia was blunt but not unkind. 

Terzo opened his mouth to reject the very idea, and then closed it immediately. Secondo, he thought, is doomed. “Can you blame me, Sorella?” 

“That depends.”

“On what?”

That amused look washed over her features again. “Are you doing it just to wind up your brother?”

“My….?” He paused. Satanas, she was a hard one. If not for Secondo, he might have tried his own luck sincerely. “Not just.” Terzo admitted. 

“Oh?”

He sighed and dropped the game, sitting back in his chair and eyeing her just as shrewdly. “You see him watching, si?”

“The tallest man in the Abbey, in his robes and paints, following me around at a distance?” She chuckled. “He would be very hard to miss.”

“But you don’t say anything to him?”

“It seemed impolite to interrupt him. Besides, all things come in their own time and I get the impression he’s not one to appreciate being hurried.” Ophelia said earnestly. “Is this to try and force his hand?”

“Maybe. A bit.” He had the good sense to look a little ashamed. “More I think… that I really don’t introduce myself properly when you come here. I don’t make the effort to meet you. And my brother is… he is a difficult man. But he is fragile. And if you tell him I say this, I deny it.”

She nodded and held up a hand. “My word, your secrets are safe with me.”

Terzo stared at her, weighing his options and how much he should say. He was probably a dead man anyway, if Secondo ever found out. “I don’t remember ever seeing him like this. I think maybe I should worry. But he won’t listen, no matter what I say, so I think to talk to you. Make sure you don’t take advantage. That this is not some kind of game you play with him.” He shrugged. “He is a pain in my ass, but he is my brother.”

Ophelia stared back, giving equal weight to her words. “I don’t play games. Certainly not like that. Certainly not with him.”

There was nothing in her tone that left any room for doubt. He nodded once sharply, content with her answer. “Maybe it is you I need to warn in that case.”

“Warn?” Her eyebrow quirked up. 

“I tell you, he is a difficult man, my brother. And not easier because he is interested.” He smirked without any real humour. “Maybe worse because he is interested.”

For the first time since he’d sat down, her eyes drifted away from him. Focused on nothing. Her expression settled into something more pensive. “Are you trying to force his hand or run me off, Papa?”

“No.” He said gently. “Only I know him better than anyone, I think. And I know he is bad at wanting. Worse at having. Terrible at keeping. I try to keep him safe, but you need also to know before you walk face first into that wall.”

Ophelia looked back at him. “He’s very lucky to have someone like you on his side.” 

Terzo snorted. “Maybe you tell him this, ah? I don’t think he believes it from me.”

“Well, if you’ve gone to this much effort on his behalf, I can only think he must be worth the trouble. And I will keep what you’ve said in mind.” She considered him again and, again, he felt uncomfortably seen. “Posso chiederti come mai eri così sicuro che fossi interessato a ricambiare?”

He blinked at her a few times, not anticipating the switch. “Ho sbagliato?”

She chuckled softly. “No.”

“Non sono poi così male nel leggere le persone, sorella. Oltretutto lavori negli archivi. Pensavo fossi bravo a maneggiare cose vecchie, danneggiate e fragili.”

Ophelia tipped her head back and laughed in a refreshingly unaffected way. “Se questo è un tentativo di ottenere riparazioni gratuite, ti faccio pagare per il lavoro nascosto, Papa."

“Oh no, Sorella.” He assured with a wink. “I don’t think all the glue and tape in the world is enough to fix this antique. We only try to maintain.” 

“Conservation it is.” 

“I do ask one favour.” Terzo looked at her seriously. 

She nodded once. “How may I be of service, Papa?”

“Don’t tell him I talk to you. I prefer not to die like that.”

“You have my word.”

Terzo caught her hand once more, kissing it, careful to avoid leaving his paints on her skin. “Grazie, Sorella. Sono in debito con te.”

With that, he stood and slipped back out of her office. Leaving Ophelia staring at his empty chair, wondering what in all the depths of hell she’d gotten herself into.

____________________________________________________

“Se hai qualcosa da dire, dillo e basta. Basta con queste sciocchezze.” = If you have something to say, just say it. Enough of this foolishness.

“Farai quello che vuoi, come sempre, Terzo. La vuoi così tanto, prendila. Ce ne sono altri. Molti altri.” = You will do what you want, as always, Terzo. You want her so bad, take her. There are others. Many others.

“Posso chiederti come mai eri così sicuro che fossi interessato a ricambiare?” = Can I ask why you were so sure that I was interested in reciprocating?

“Ho sbagliato?” = Was I wrong?

“Non sono poi così male nel leggere le persone, sorella. Oltretutto lavori negli archivi. Pensavo fossi bravo a maneggiare cose vecchie, danneggiate e fragili.” = I'm not too bad at reading people, Sister. Besides, you work in the archives. I thought you'd be good at handling old, damaged, fragile things.

“Se questo è un tentativo di ottenere riparazioni gratuite, ti faccio pagare per il lavoro nascosto, Papa." = If this is an attempt to get free repairs, I charge for under the table work, Papa.

“Grazie, Sorella. Sono in debito con te.” = Thank you, Sister. I am in your debt.