#maligned musings

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

☆ - happy headcanon for Scott? :D thank you

Scott will tell you he isn't much for sweets, that he grew out of his sweet tooth after dealing with sticky caramel on clothes and toffee melted into sheets of little brothers who liked to hide their treats so they didn't have to share. He'd rather an ice cold beer or an ice cold lemonade than ice cream or Popsicles.

But there is one major exception to his preference for the savory and tangy. He is a sucker for fried dough, especially when it is sprinkled with powdered sugar. He has very happy memories of Kansas State fairs, of staying out late and watching fireworks, or running through fun houses and going on ferris wheels and other carnival rides. He has memories of his mother putting powdered sugar on his father's nose and of her unbridled laugh as he rubbed that same nose against his cheek. And he has memories of sharing a heaping plate of it with his father in the warm Kansas summers.

Thanks for the ask!!

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

I'd love to talk about my two Thunderbirds OCs and maybe remove some of the fear I have about sharing them.

Harper (the Tracy Boys' half sister in a Sci-Fi/Paranormal AU I have been cooking up)

Syeira, the Baroness - The Hood and Kyrano's mother, have played with the idea of making her both good and evil so if you have a preference, let me know.

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!

feel free to tweak questions + all emojis r listed in text form bc i can’t see some of them aAAaaAA! sorry if any of these questions are too similar i tried to avoid that but .. there’s a lot lol! categorized by emoji type.

i wanted to make one because i could not find one on tumblr already that had a ton of questions. this was created by combining ones under the #oc ask game tag + my own contributions. hi charmymemes nation i’m back.

people

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical…)?

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they’re lying?

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their “ghostly experiences”, if any?

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

�� FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into “flight” or “fight”?

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

food & drinks

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

🍟 FRIES - do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

🍰 CAKE SLICE - favourite cake flavour? are they specific about types of cakes?

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

plants & nature

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don’t want to show other people?

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

activity

⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what’s their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?

🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean?

objects

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what’s their favourite genre?

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what’s their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what’s different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the “last straw” for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

💎 DIAMOND - how rich are they? can they live the lifestyle they want to?

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

🎤 MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

🎷 SAXOPHONE - do they play any instruments? are they any good at it?

📚 BOOKS - how were they at school? what is their best subject? what is their worst subject? do they have a favourite subject?

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

🎨 PALETTE - can they draw? what do they like to draw?

🎡 FERRIS WHEEL - are they someone who wants to kiss at the top of the ferris wheel?

⏳ HOURGLASS - are they usually late or on-time?

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

📦 PACKAGE - what are some “most likely to…” that can apply to them?

🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them?

⚙️ GEAR - what are your ocs thoughts on science & art? which do they give more importance to? how much value do they place on each?

🔧 WRENCH - are they good at fixing relationships? or do they tend to avoid doing so?

❇️ SPARKLE - what is their most prized possession? what do they value?

📏 RULER - is your oc well educated? where did they get their learning from?

transport

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

🚲 BICYCLE - can they ride a bike? what do they remember from learning to ride a bicycle?

weather

🌩️ LIGHTNING - are they scared of lightning?

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

❄️ SNOWFLAKE - do people consider them cold? if so, what made them this way?

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you’ve ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

hearts

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they’re in love?

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn’t around?

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

[saucy-mesothelioma]

Shout out to siblings in horror movies that aren't actively witnessing the horrors but are supportive of the sibling that is no matter how weird it seems

[darabeatha]

Picrew (part 2?) from left to right: M.oriarty, A.shwatthama, A.rthur, (alter) A.rthur, A.sclepius, T.ezcatlipoca

[pctaldrunk]

"...No, you must have mistaken me for someone else." The voice is RIPPLESS, calm, polite - almost toneless in its indifference. The young man in question, dressed unassumingly in crisp button down and slacks, like any other office worker, not very tall and yet seeming elongated by the sharpness of each joint at which slender limbs are bent - seems RELAXED and at home, even stretched across the hard cushions of the long and low sofas set out in the police station waiting area, the book in his lap opened lazily, unread. In his smile there is no trace of the man who had been standing at the roof of the now destroyed Rose Perfumery in the central city but days ago, demanding that his threat be broadcast to surrounding inhabitants. A cruel but kind JOKE played on the city's supernatural task force - resulting in a moment like this. B.ai L.iu had only wanted to clear the surrounding area of human victims before he blew the supernatural inner factory to bits, and there after been let off free - but unfortunately, the context of such events was rendered UNEXPLAINABLE to the regular person, by virtue of some universal law. "I'm only here to deliver Lu Y.izhan's lunch, which he most definitely left at home on purpose." Waves the little bag sitting beside him, as if to prove his point. "His fiancée made it with love...and her rather poisonous culinary skills." And of course, Dian-jie, entirely without realizing the way his face became suddenly blank and expressionless, gave him the bag to deliver.

@maligns liked for a starter from an obscure internet novel muse from Ro's collection feat. b.ai l.iu

[deathfavor]

We got another tag drop for the enemy tacticians

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

Man...mental health struggles suck. Depression has been shoving me into the mud extra hard the last week or so. I have so many ideas for things to write floating around in my brain but as soon as I try to latch onto one, it either disappears into dust or the parts of my brain I'm trying to learn not to listen to try to remind me that I don't know how to write.

I am proud of everything I have written, everything that I have shared. I can hope I am doing more right than wrong, but I know there is always room for improvement. And I do want to continue to improve and push my comfort zones out. I want to write these amazing ideas (well...I think they are amazing) but I just...can't bring myself to put words on the page.

And it sucks because if I do try to write, the little voice telling me I will never do it justice makes me never want to write, but if I push beyond all that and try to write and nothing comes out, that little voice tells me it shouldn't be this hard to put pen to paper.

Sorry for the self-indulgent rant. Really I just need a hug (and a new brain 🧠).

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

I'm not sure if they hurt because they hurt (been there done that) but if you have just had them out, try to sleep sitting up and use an ice pack on your cheek for as long as you can bear it. It will help reduce the swelling. I had mine out awhile ago and that was the advice given me and the swelling was gone by the next day.

Hope you feel better either way!

Wisdom teeth hurt.

Send help.

**dies**

[magistralucis]

Conflict in Literature + Necron Books

(Read more for titles and notes, watch out for spoilers)

Man vs. Nature - Devourer This is not the only necron vs. tyranid lit, but I thought the cover illustrated the conflict best. Out of all the horribad things in WH40K, the tyranids tend to be presented as the closest faction to a natural disaster; certainly in Devourer they do not logically justify their presence, nor can they be reasoned with, not by the Blood Angels or Anrakyr or the Tomb World he's trying to wake. Not mindless, but an amoral happenstance, like nature itself.

Man vs. Society - The Lords of Borsis Necron court intrigue played straight, with a sprinkle of delusion on the side. Since this story revolves entirely around the schemings and plottings of necron(tyr) society, with changes in dynastic hierarchy as the final objective, it fits best here.

Man vs. Technology - Indomitus This is an awkward placement, since Indomitus was not, well... a compelling story, with most of its tropes not being explored beyond their first introduction. But it is the most bare-bones way of describing this book's premise. Humans battling a robotic malignancy, albeit with a Bolivian Army Ending, which doesn't conclude the plot in either direction 😞

Man vs. Man - The Twice-Dead King: Ruin Ruin is an exceptionally deep novel, and fits every conflict listed here. It was the hardest one to place, because it's not so much choosing the one that goes best, rather crossing off every other conflict not central to the story. Both gods and the absence-of-gods are a problem in Ruin, as well as nature and technology, but they're not at the heart of Oltyx's problem. Society could be a big one, since Oltyx is an exile - but he’s not trying to antagonize his society throughout Ruin, he's trying to work with it, or at least save it from doom. Self and reality both count, but fit better with other stories in the Nate Crowley corpus. So man vs. man it is. His most important clashes are all with individuals ('man') - Djoseras, Unnas, Hemiun, arguably Yenekh in reserve - and by the end, his crownworld is overrun by the Imperium, who will become the antagonists for the second part of his tale. Man vs. 'Man', with a capital M.

Man vs. Self - The Twice-Dead King: Reign Again, this could have gone elsewhere. In man vs. reality, perhaps, or the god-related ones. But the self is where the conflict of Reign truly lies, since Oltyx's greatest obstacle is himself, and it is his inability to accept that which brings his dynasty close to destruction. Thank goodness he got over that one.

Man vs. Reality - Severed The emotional and philosophical core of this novella relies on it. Zahndrekh's inability to see the world as it is brings about the whole plot, and is at the centre of all of Obyron's musings. Interestingly, reality does not win at the end, at least not what necrons envision reality to be: a place of cold hard facts, with no room for emotion. Zahndrekh would rather dream the impossible dream, which might be the healthier way to deal with their situation.

Man vs. God - The Infinite and the Divine 🚨 𝔻𝕆 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝔹𝔼 𝔻𝔼ℂ𝔼𝕀𝕍𝔼𝔻 🚨

Man vs. No God - Crusade: Pariah Nexus Not a novel, not 100% about necrons, not even out yet as of now (Dec 2023). This is an inherently problematic conflict for WH40K, because gods are very real and very present in that universe... here I'm only thinking about the necron perspective, and the civil war unfolding in their lore. They banded together in a shared purpose eons ago, destroying the Old Ones who oppressed them, and sundering the star gods who subjected them to biotransference. Now they are as antigod as they could be, and they did not retain their bonds, they have once again turned on each other. So it goes.

Man vs. Author - Codex: Necrons (10th Ed.) (Collector's Ed.) James Workshop knows what they did. 😑

[infinite-orangepeel]

“get too close to your muse & you, the artist, will lose all ability to decipher one shade from the next on your palette. keep your distance…”

fall quarter begins at the curly roots of eddie munson’s ineffable head, runs its’ labyrinthian course through passageways of blue veins & black ink, & ends at a set of hairy crimson painted toes.

steve finds himself squandering every waking moment of his lifeblood & attention somewhere, egregiously, in the middle.

“say you’re drawing a bed of flowers,” his professor lectured a few weeks back, “what happens if you put your nose in the middle of those flowers & try to recreate the details on your canvas? you come up with color and shape, sure, but it’s blurry—isn’t it? it’s a big blobby blur of nothing. that’s not very good life drawing, i’m afraid.”

flash forward to the present—

the bed is firm but comfortable. reminding you of its’ presence.

it doesn’t encourage daydreaming &, yet, steve is ignoring the better advice of his mentor & pressing his curious nose directly into the bud of an all too striking flower.

he knows the intimate contact could kill the rose, is aware of the thorns lining the stem, but he can’t stay away.

he’s struck by fear and temptation and self-loathing and a beauty that stings like a slap across the face.

eddie’s his roommate, his friend, his muse for the most important project of steve’s career as an art student.

& getting too close is lethal, so he creates a sort of optical illusion.

designs an environment in which he can pretend they are star-crossed lovers in a broken world that won’t let them be together. in which touch is a small death each and every time.

steve flits to eddie like a dragonfly to water—

never touching.

never spending too much time in his orbit before making up an excuse to leave & jerk off to the smell of old cigarettes in the bathroom.

everything he really wants to say sits in the back of his throat like a painful, malignant lump & gets spat out onto his sketchbook in a tragically romantic exorcism.

doing the dishes next to him is enough to drive him insane.

drawing him, butt-naked, is another story.

“is it supposed to be so….erotic?”

eddie arches an eyebrow as steve traces the outline of his cock into his sketchbook.

“it’s not that erotic,” steve says, blushing into his charcoals, “besides no one will know it’s you. it’s art.”

art is supposed to be weird & naked. now, hold still, & let me draw you.”

it’s definitely erotic.

there are roses—de-thorned, for safety—shrouding eddie’s dick & leaving a trail of pink petals across his pale thighs.

eddie’s hand is draped over his head; exuding a certain brattiness, lust, boredom—

as if he’s lying there because he wants someone, like steve, to stumble upon him & use his body the way it so clearly needs to be.

his lips are parted on the precipice of whispering some filthy secret into steve’s ear while milking him like a simple farm girl with nothing better to do.

fuck.

he can’t be this close to eddie without losing his mind.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

it’s just a body. just limbs and a huge cock and—

eddie’s quiet for a little while which is rare for him, before he pipes up again.

“what if we painted the flowers together?”

steve wipes the sweat from his brow, drops his pencil, and looks up at eddie across the mattress. working overtime to avoid staring at the erection sticking out amongst the bouquet of roses.

“the piece isn’t supposed to be very colorful. i’m going for muted tones. that’s why i picked the pale pinks and whites.”

eddie giggles a little and, it’s so cute, steve has to pinch his own thigh through his shorts just to maintain composure.

“i don’t think you’re understanding—the colors wouldn’t change much. except for some more white, if you catch my drift,” eddie pumps his hand over his cock several times and mimes cumming stop the petals, “might look cool. might get you extra points with that asshole professor of yours. you’ve said he likes ‘shock value.’”

“i—i guess you’re right. that’s a pretty….different and unique….um….idea. yeah.”

it’s like this that steve strips naked and clambers as close to eddie as he can possibly get without laying a finger on him. adhering to the rules—keeping a particular distance between artist & muse.

they lay side by side. sunlight streaming in through the blinds & bathing eddie’s spindly fingers in gold as he touches himself.

“harrington, don’t act like you haven’t been dreaming about this since day one,” eddie snarks, “i’ve seen the way you look at me, sweetheart. your eyes are gonna burn holes in my ass if you’re not careful. touch that pretty cock of yours, lemme see you.”

before steve can do anything about it or change his mind, he’s got a fist wrapped around his own cock and the other hand pinching his nipples. left and right, back and forth, dragging his nails through the hair sprouting around them.

“didn’t think you thought about me like that,” steve whines, watching as eddie edges himself methodically—

moving faster, slower, squeezing at the base, thumbing over the slit, cupping his balls, slapping the insides of his own thighs until they match the pink petals.

“i like a little pain,” he comments when he catches steve’s wide eyes, “and i’ve always was hallucinating the first time i walked into this room and saw you on the bed—thought i was going into the light and seeing an angel.”

“you’re so full of it.”

“i’d like to be full of you,” eddie breathes against steve’s neck, not allowing his lips to pass the barrier, “but i don’t know if you can handle me, big boy. you’re blushing like a nervous little schoolgirl.”

“am not—”

“are too, &, you’re about to cum just listening to my voice. it’s so crystal clear. look at you—fucking yourself so stupid.”

eddie looks so beautiful.

laying there like a forsaken god locked out of heaven.

steve’s been so good about keeping his hands to himself, about keeping his nose out of the flowers, but desire and temptation are stronger than any amount of remaining willpower he has.

he grabs eddie’s shoulder with his freehand & kisses him until they’re both seeing stars.

celestial explosions of pleasure & truth & this thing that’s been growing violently between them since the moment they first met.

“i’m cumming. i’m gonna—fuck steve, it’s gonna be on the flowers—i hope that’s okay—”

they cum in tandem over petals of pink and white and thornless stems.

steve gets an A+.

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @novelnovella @neverlandwaitingforme @swiss-cheeze

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

I have a Thunderbirds/Resident Evil crossover that I've laid some foundations for. The world building has been a lot of fun.

Rewatching Without A Trace - reads a couple of fanfics - begins daydreaming of how a crossover would work with Thunderbirds 🤔

What crossover’s have you daydreamed/written?

Oh, and if you also loved Without A Trace (Yes, I’m a Danny Taylor fan 😅) let me know 😊

[darabeatha]

/ I DIDN'T GET HIM-

[nancydrewwouldnever]

RANDOM MUSING: Nothing makes for a great Friday quite like the doctor saying "non-malignant finding in test results" at your early morning appointment.

[lettersregardingjeeves]

Bertie vs. Reggie (In Regard to Freddie)

So now that FRED is out, I thought I'd share a little tidbit I found both interesting and a touch tragic. As I mentioned in my little intro, "Fixing It for Freddie" is a rewrite of the older Reggie Pepper story "Helping Freddie", and much of it is word-for-word with Reggie switched out for Bertie, and Jeeves inserted in. But there are a few differences - namely, that Reggie seems an awful lot more attached to Freddie than Bertie ever is. See, when Bertie thinks about the potential effect on Freddie of his helping out a pal, he says this:

What you might call a quiet happiness suffused me, if that’s the word I want. I was very fond of old Freddie, and it was jolly to think that he was shortly about to click once more.

Reggie, however, in the exact same situation, says this:

I don’t know when I’ve felt so happy. I was so fond of dear old Freddie that to know that he was soon going to be his old bright self again made me feel as if somebody had left me about a million pounds.

Bertie's happy for his pal, but it's in a more relaxed, detached sort of way - but Reggie seems to practically stake all his emotions on Freddie feeling better. Which does better explain why Reggie would go so far as to kidnap a toddler (as opposed to Bertie, who has even less excuse), but is also rather sad, given that Freddie is an awful lot crueler to Reggie than he is to Bertie. Compare this, which comes right before the above:

“Well?” said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the scheme. After a while it began to strike him. The careworn look faded from his face, and for the first time since his arrival at Marvis Bay he smiled almost happily. “There’s something in this, Bertie.” “It’s the goods.” “I think it will work,” said Freddie.

To this:

“Well?” said Freddie, when silence had set in. I explained the idea. After a while it began to strike him. “You’re not such a fool as you look, sometimes, Reggie,” he said, handsomely. “I’m bound to say this seems pretty good.”

And not to mention how Bertie's musing on childrearing:

“And, after all,” I said, “there’s lots to be argued in favour of having a child about the place, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and domestic, what?” Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie’s trousers, and when he had come back after changing he lacked sparkle.

is met with a far less subdued response in Reggie's tale, with Freddie aggressively shooting down Reggie's good cheer with this (admittedly pretty funny) line:

“And after all,” I said, “there’s lots to be said for having a child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and domestic—what!” Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie’s trousers, and when he had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a much-maligned man King Herod was. The more he saw of Tootles, he said, the less he wondered at those impulsive views of his on infanticide.

In short, Reggie cares more about Freddie than Bertie does, despite the fact that Freddie is meaner to him... which is just depressing. But unlike with Bertie, there are no recurring characters in Reggie's stories - he has no family, good or bad, and his friends all leave to go off with someone else. Crucially, he also has no Jeeves - the closest we get is his man Wilberforce, who is not as established in his life (Reggie has an entirely different valet in the story "Rallying Around Old George") and gets no lines and no indication of his personality save for taking odd offense to a lack of collaboration when it comes to getting dressed in the morning.

Thus, while Reggie is both more intelligent and a bit more conniving than Bertie, he also comes off as much, much lonelier - a man who clings even to a jerk like Freddie because Freddie, for the time being, may be the only one he has.

[madfantasy]

Do these eyes hide a heart?

It is of no wonder any more to Kingsley, when that doe emerged out of thin air, and spoken to him with that soft malignant voice of that certain Severus Snape, updating him with the usual dull going ons. Noting he is the observer kind he can relate to, so cold and distant yet there. Atrociously always there. Being the likewise overachiever, Kingsley often found himself pondering over what kind of power that drove him to such beyonds. He is not unnecessarily a breacher of bounds, but the words let themselves out when his sight locked with those doe eyes.

A new muse unlocked (thanks to @levonsnape 💛8q)

1.8.2023, commission/ support Mani

[fanficrocks]

His Empty House

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Fandom: Endeavour (TV)

WC: 814

It is already dark when DI Endeavour Morse leaves the station to drive home, the clocks having gone back three days ago. As he navigates the traffic through the city centre and approaches the residential areas to the north, his gaze is snagged by the welcoming lights and silhouetted figures in the windows of the houses he passes, and a rare smile crosses his lips at the sight of a small group of kids obviously resisting their mothers' calls to come in for dinner.

Turning into the forecourt of his house, Morse turns off the car engine, collects his belongings, and lets himself in through the bright red door. Unlocking the inner door, he drops his scarf and overcoat on the stair bannister and reaches for the light switch. He is rewarded by a familiar click followed by a low buzz, but the hall remains in stygian darkness, reminding him that it is only a couple of days past the new moon. Bloody bulb must have fused again, he thinks in irritation, as he moves on cautiously, running his hand along the rising bannister for as long as he can. He has taken only a few steps when he can no longer reach the top of the bannister. The sudden disorientation combines with a sharp dip in temperature, and he feels a chill along his spine - as though he is standing at the threshold of something malign and powerful.

He stops to check behind him... the door is indeed closed, just as he remembers; which means there is no explanation for the fall in temperature. Unless a window is broken towards the back? He thinks about it for a moment, then accepts that it is entirely possible over the hours the house stood empty. With a sigh, he continues on his careful way deeper into the hall until he gets to the kitchen door. Pushing that open, he is at once struck by the lack of any draught. Can't be a broken window then, he thinks, reaching for that light switch in turn. It is the same story - click, buzz, darkness; and then the sense of cold... and incipient dread.

Retreating to the hall, he considers picking up his coat and leaving the house again, perhaps making his way to a favourite pub - or to Max's house. But his obstinacy comes to his rescue... damnit, this is his house and he is not going to be defeated by a couple of coincidentally fused bulbs or a little bit of cold. It is that time of year after all! 

Morse turns and makes his way to the powder room, searching by feel for the candle stub and match box he has stashed there. A couple of broken matches later, he is able to light the candle, which incidentally is rather more than a stub. Enough to burn for at least a couple of hours, he muses as he re-enters the hall, his way now lit by a feeble light. The flame burns steadily, confirming once more that there is no draught, and Morse makes his way back to the kitchen. 

The candlelight, limited though it is, allows him to see what he had missed before - a covered dish on the kitchen bench with a note sticking out from under the corner. He pulls it out and angles it to the light - Joycie's hand.

Made your favourite casserole today, and lots of it. Should reheat easily on the cooker if you don't want to use the oven. Remember Marilyn's birthday party on Saturday - 4 pm sharp.

The knowledge that Joycie has finally made use of the spare key he has given her brings a warm glow to his heart even as his stomach rumbles in response to the delicious aroma that rises as soon as he uncovers the dish. With a grin, he turns towards the oven and turns on the gas before transferring part of the casserole into a smaller dish and putting it in.

Walking into the living room, he crosses to the sofa table and tries the lamp there. It lights up at once, banishing the darkness and returning his house to the tranquil oasis he wants it to be. He sets a record on the turntable, then holds a light to the wood arranged ready in the fireplace, craving both the heat and the dancing light from the flames.

The telephone rings and Morse goes to answer it with a sigh, hoping it isn’t the desk sergeant with a call-out. Lifting the receiver, he hears a far more welcome voice - Max, with news of a new concert on Sunday and a suggestion to meet for a meal before attending it together. As Morse confirms the plan and hangs up, returning to the kitchen to get his dinner out of the oven, he realises that his house is once again filled with warmth.