#and killing bridie

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #basicly Danny is sent on a mission by CW #he wakes up in the DC version of himself in the pits after being killed and Talia tossing him in #he was created by Talia since shes head of the LOA now and needs her own heir #but she once again wants Bruce's bloodline in it so she used some leftover dna she still had #so no one knows Danny was created until he left about a year later #danny has his ghost powers since he took a dip in the pits #but had to relearn some control and kept it secret #he knows his mom would see it as 'the pits granted my heir its powers.' mindset #so hes been on the run #and didnt wanna go to Gotham cause... his dad dresses as a gaint bat #and dont get him started on the rest of the batfam #he doesnt wanna be an assassin or a crime fighting furry #in case some people didnt get it. the words being spoken happen when Danny is running all across Gotham away from those after him #guess who said what lol #i want danny to be completely independent and trying to take care of himself tbh #but hes still baby to everyone else #talia is slowy becoming a little unhinged due to being the Demon Head now #maybe due to the stress of it all? or maybe due to a curse? idk

[schrijverr]

You Don’t Know Me, But I Know You 6

Chapter 6 out of 6

5 times Tim showed he stalked Robin + 1 time Jason did

Inspired by this post of thecrazyleader.

On AO3.

Ships none

Warnings: none

~~~~

+1. Jason Acts Familiar

It’s a slow night. No one has commented on it yet, since none of them want to jinx it, but all have been luxuriating in the quiet.

“Since when does DC have a branch in Gotham?” Tim’s voice suddenly breaks the silence.

“What is this DC? Is it a new terrorist organization? I have not heard of them,” Damian asks.

“No, it’s a coffee shop, most people call it DC Coffee, but the C already stands for coffee, so that’s stupid,” Tim explains. “They were never in Gotham before.”

“Ugh, of course you wouldn’t just call it DC Coffee, because you’re a pretentious ass,” Steph rolls her eyes. “What sort of monstrosity do you order?”

“I don’t order a monstrosity,” Tim says offended.

“Yes, you do,” Jason inserts himself into the conversation. “It’s literally called the Death Wish and it’s the only chain that serves it. Of course you’re excited it’s here.”

“Shut up,” Tim hisses, but it’s overshadowed with multiple concerned family members preemptively banning him from entering. Bruce even considers buying it, so he can quite literally ban Tim.

“My coffee intake is not that bad!” Tim shouts over the noise. “No one in the family is normal about caffeine, I just get singled out for it. It’s unfair. Let me go to my favorite coffee shop in peace. I usually only get to go there on bus…” Tim falls silent suddenly.

After two beats, a concerned Dick tentatively asks: “Are- are you good, Baby Bird? What’s happening?”

Ignoring Dick, Tim asks: “Hood, how the fuck did you know what I order? You’re literally never there when I do, because I only get to on business trips or when I’m at Titan Tower.”

Jason is quiet.

“Oh my god, have you been stalking me? You’ve totally been stalking me,” Tim exclaims, torn between disturbed and delighted.

“No, I haven’t,” Jason protests, but Tim ignores him.

“After weeks of calling me a stalker and a creeper, here you are, doing the exact same. I can’t believe the hypocrisy!” Tim goes on.

“I wasn’t stalking you!” Jason yells, hoping to be louder than Tim to shut him up.

It works. Tim falls quiet. But then Steph asks: “Then why do you know his coffee order in a chain you’ve never seen him go to. Even I didn’t know that and I dated him.”

“Yes, how did you obtain this information without observation?” Damian inquires.

Jason is quiet for a second, then says: “Okay, so it wasn’t without observation, but observation and stalking isn’t the same at all.”

“It totally is,” Tim exclaims indignantly.

“No, it’s not,” Jason argues. “I was observing your routine so I could break in and kill you, that’s not at all the same as running around at night, because you’re a creepy looser, whose only human interaction is through a camera lens.”

“Okay, harsh,” Tim says.

“Yeah, way too harsh. I mean, I agree with you and I love ragging on Red Bridie-boy here, but that’s- that’s a lot,” Steph says, a jikes in her voice.

“Alright, yeah, you’re right, sorry, that was too much,” Jason agrees. “But I still think it’s not the same.”

“It totally is,” Tim says, easily forgiving the harsh words. They truly have gotten closer. Then he proceeds to be a little shit by crowing: “Stalker, stalker, stalker. Red Hood is a stalker.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Jason chants, trying and failing to drown him out.

“No. Creeper, creeper,” Tim starts up, Steph having no trouble joining in, despite not even agreeing with Tim.

“One of my plans was fucking poisoning you with your coffee order. I can dust that plan off, if you don’t stop right the fuck now,” Jason threatens.

“Still a stalker,” Tim singsongs, before turning off his com. He hasn’t taken Jason’s threat seriously in ages, he wonders when that happened.

#rr writing #batman #batfam #batfamily #tim drake #stalker tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #stephanie brown #damian wayne #dc #dc comics

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: current / evening LOCATION: axis investigations + a mean old lady's house PARTIES: @honeysmokedham, @itzbridiebitch, & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: after emilio reaches out to his breaking and entering expert (nora), she and bridie go on a mission to retrieve the cursed necklace. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

If he’d thought the curse was bad when Teddy found him on that rooftop, it was a thousand times worse now. Emilio couldn’t hear himself think anymore. He figured this was probably the height of it — if he let it go on much longer, the physical effects would start. Already, his body was beginning to break down due to lack of sleep. Another day or two, and he’d go the way of the pawn shop owner who’d bought the stolen necklace.

But that wasn’t going to happen. They knew how to stop it.

He had both Bridie and Nora meet him at Axis. The place was even more a mess than it usually was. Windows blocked off with heavy curtains, faucets running just to provide some kind of noise. It didn’t help, but the thought of getting off the fucking couch to turn them off was a little much. The door opened — he wasn’t sure if they’d knocked before, or how long they’d knocked if they had — and he glanced up.

“Be ready in a bit,” he mumbled, making no move to get off the couch. His eyes darted around, not focusing on anything. In his head, a thousand voices said a thousand terrible things.

Yeah. He was fine. This was going to go great.

—

Nora had returned from her impromptu vacation to find her boss couldn’t last a few days without her help. Cursed. It would be funny if Nora wasn’t so worried about the old guy. The summons to the office had included a message about talking about the curse and making a plan. Apparently someone else was cursed? Nora probably should pay more attention to the things Emilio told her. 

The desk was a mess. Nora cleared up the bottles and other trash, dumping them in the empty trash can before she settled herself on top of the desk, examining Emilio. “Oh bother. You look like shit.” She told her boss. In a loving way. The monotone voice may sound judgemental, but their thing wasn’t words. 

“Where is Bridie?” Nora asked, pulling out her phone and double checking the messages. “You think the voices got to her already?” If Nora had to guess he’d made himself a fixture in on his couch for a day or two. Why did he expect Bridie to be different from him and actually show up? Nora started rifling through the papers on the desk in front of her. Anything for a hint of what they were doing today. 

—

It was Nora. It took a moment for Emilio to recognize even that, his eyes darting over her face for a moment before settling on her just long enough for the recognition to stick. He glanced away almost immediately, eyes following the voices even though he knew they weren’t physically present. “That’s nice of you to say,” he said dryly, though there was an edge to his voice that wasn’t usually present. Stress, maybe. Or fear. Wouldn’t that be a nice treat for her? It was almost funny.

As she questioned Bridie’s absence, he glanced to the door. “Not here yet,” he said, as though it weren’t obvious. “She’ll probably look like shit, too. You should make sure to… tell her.” Had he been more aware of himself, he might have griped at her for going through the papers. As it was, he hardly seemed to notice. “We need to break into an old lady’s house. And steal a necklace. And break it. Did that —- Did I tell you that?” Maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t. It was hard to keep track of what he’d said now. “You’ll like it.” Perro stood suddenly, looking to the door with a quiet bark. He’d been doing that the last few days, since things got bad. Like he knew, somehow. “Guess the voices didn’t get her.” Or someone was breaking in to kill him. Emilio wasn’t sure he’d be upset at them if they did.

—

Fear. Nora sniffed the air again, she hadn’t noticed at first. There was an ambient fear that coated the town, and mixed with the stale order of the closed up Axis she’d let it slipped by unnoticed. Fear. Emilio was scared. Nora’s head tilted. His normal scent wasn’t the same today, normally it was Irish Spring soap mixed with cigarettes, today it was sweat and cigarettes mixed with… blood? There was something odd about people’s fear. It always smelled like something new, something she could sometimes recognize and sometimes she couldn’t. Every fear did not smell the same, but why did Emilio’s smell of death and blood? 

Nora worked the ring in her lip, the only anxiety she shared for the situation she allowed to show. “Yeah, you told me.” Nora slid off the desk, ready to go now. Waiting for Bridie was a waste of time. “I just need an address.” Nora placed a hand on his arm. The one comfort move she knew. She left it there for a second before starting to move towards the door. “Text it to me.” She’d go without him. He obviously couldn’t do shit in this state. 

—

So what if there were maybe eight voices in her head now. Who cared? Nothing mattered and everything was chaos!

Well actually no, that was a lie. And Bridie couldn’t lie. Like ever. The truth of it was that one thing mattered. That stupid fucking cursed necklace, specifically. And tonight was the night it was getting blown to smithereens. 

So naturally it was a cause for celebration. 

The faun entered Axis with three balaclavas while humming the mission impossible theme song. Very loudly. If the she had to listen to the voices, then the voices would have to lighten up and get a sense of humor, and listen to her for the rest of their residence in her mind. 

“Hello party people,” she sang. “No not you Albert you fucking sicko, the actual people with bodies in the room.” She looked at the two people in the room, realizing she’d said that last bit aloud. “Sorry. The voices. I’ve decided to traumatize them back.” She waved with a deliriously tired smile at the new face. “Hi! Nora, right? I’m Bridie.”

__________

Everything seemed to happen in spurts. Nora was at the desk, Nora was giving him an odd look, Nora was at the door. Then Bridie was walking in, was greeting everyone, was talking about the voices, was calling Nora by name. That last one should shake something loose, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to cling to it. He couldn’t muster up the energy to do much of anything. How did Bridie have so much of it? How was she on her damn feet? Emilio was goddamn exhausted, crumbling under the weight of a thousand voices in his head. A thousand voices, and his too. It was the last one that seemed the worst.

“Don’t need to text it to you,” he grumbled. “I’m coming. I can come.” I can be useful. I can be good for something. I swear, I can. “Just… Let me get another drink. Or something.” That hadn’t helped for days now, but maybe it’d give him enough to get off the couch.

His body still didn’t move. Figured. Emilio slumped. 

—

Nora had been about to walk out the door, her hand had been reaching towards the handle when someone else had come throught it. A goat. A goat person. Nora blinked, eyes trailing from the horn to the hooves. Okay. Goat person. Fae? Nora shifted to look at Emilio then paused, tense, as Bridie said her name. How did Bridie know her name? Had Emilio told her? Had Leti told Emilio? How long had he’d known? This whole time she’d only been kid and now suddenly she was Nora? Nora let out a deep breath, willing the tension to seep from her body. Whatever. This was a later conversation. Now there was a job to do, and she wasn’t getting paid to stand around and talk. “Yeah.” Was the only word Nora mumbled.

This Bridie, she was a fountain of energy. It bubbled off of her in waves of laughter, talking and emotion. Even looking like she hadn’t slept for the week, she still radiated energy. Nora felt exhaustion seeping over her just looking at the fae. “Right. You’re staying here old man.” Nora picked up a half empty bottle of something and tossed it towards the man, making sure to aim at a pillow cause she was sure he wouldn’t catch. “Distract yourself with that or something.” Nora ushered Bridie back out the door. “Quick before the liability thinks he can actually help. Why don’t you look like shit?” It was the last thing Nora said as she closed the door behind the two of them and started leading Bridie out towards the street. “You seem to be taking the curse really well.” 

—

Emilio looked bad. Distracted and slow. And maybe just a touch scared. She’d started scared, and her fear had grown closer to madness day by day. Drinking hadn’t subdued them. Dancing and seducing hadn’t worked to drown them out. So Bridie had taken to shouting back. It was the only thing keeping her from bursting into tears at this rate. She wandered closer to the man with a concerned frown, flinching suddenly at seemingly nothing. Her hand shook a moment until she balled it into a tight fist. The faun shook her head with a violent jerk and grumbled something to herself before letting out a deep breath. She gave the cursed man a gentle, understanding pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there…” She was hanging on by a thread, and making it a grand game was the only thing keeping her from the same fate the pawn dealer had. 

She walked to the door but paused, blinking rapidly at the young woman. Bridie laughed, an insane, exhausted, terrified sound. “Oh honeybun, noooo. No, no, no, nonono.” She resumed her pace beside the girl. “This is me hanging on to my sanity by a fucking thread!” She chirped on a song songy voice. “I haven’t slept in days, I am starving, and I’ve taken to talking to voices in my head because at least then I can tell Jane to shut the fuck up about her legendary shoot out with the law because I don’t give a fuuuuuuck.” Her words had turned into an annoyed hiss by the end. She blinked, turning her focus back to the girl with a wide, exhausted smile. She held out a hat. “Want one?”

_______

He couldn’t track the conversation anymore. Couldn’t trace that look in Nora’s eye, couldn’t comprehend that there was a name, and it meant something, and he’d never called her by it to her face before. They’d talk about it later, some part of him knew, but only if he survived this. And that was feeling less and less likely by the minute. 

Bridie came over, touched his shoulder in a way that made him flinch even when it shouldn’t have, walked away. Emilio needed to get up. He needed to do something, needed to help. He wasn’t allowed to be useless. There was nothing worse than a useless hunter; those were better off dead. But the couch was a coffin, and he didn’t have the strength to dig himself out of the ground. Nora said something else, and a bottle hit the pillow before he could pluck the words out of the air and translate them in his mind. He looked up just in time to see the door close, just in time to realize he was alone again.

Or, well… As alone as he could be, with the voices in his head. He sighed, picking up the bottle Nora had tossed his way and settling back against the cushions.

He just hoped they’d work fast. He didn’t think he could take this much longer.

—-

Honeybun? The goat wasn’t okay if she thought a suitable nickname for Nora was Honeybun. Honeybear or Honeyham would have been more suitable. “Are you sure you’re good to come with me?” Nora asked, accepting the balaclava with her dirt crusted fingers. Nora shoved it into her pocket. “You know where we’re going?” She asked, checking her phone. No messages. Mimi probably forgot already, with all the voices telling him different things. Her mind went back to his fear, the scent of blood thick and heavy around him. His mother? Nora knew she’d never ask him, and that he would never tell if she did. 

Nora hoped the direction they were walking in was the right one. Bridie wasn’t directing them anywhere else. “So. Jane talking about anything cool?” Nora didn’t know what the voices were talking about, just that they wouldn’t shut up. Nora figured that would be enough to drive her crazy. Constant chatter. 

—

“Oh yeah for sure. I’m totally good. I don’t need to be sane to steal an ugly necklace from a bitchy old HOA lady who likes to see people suffer. If anything, I’m the best candidate for the job, babes. Plus now I have like. A freaking council of crazies in my head. By the way both Fredrick and I want to know how you feel about light arson, because when I say this lady was a bitch, I mean she was literally the worst person, and I want to see her dumb smug face crying.” The faun rambled, practically skipping as they walked along. Maybe Bridie wasn’t as sane as she thought she was…

At the question of direction, Bridie pointed in the direction they were walking. “Yeah, it’s this way. I remember where it was. Stupid shiny picket fence and the works.” She blinked a moment as Nora asked about Jane. Who was Jane? Oh right! “No, she mostly just talks about her Bonnie and Clyde esque run with the law that involved robbing various fishing supply stores and ended in ‘a badass fight sequence that would have made Michael Bay movies look weak as hell’.” The faun rambled on to the girl as they walked along. Talking made it easier, or that was what she told herself. Then she could try to be louder than the voices. 

They walked up to the house and Bridie pulled a balaclava over her face with pink manicured nails. “Alright honeybun, what’s the plan? Emilio said this was your thing.”

_________

“Light arson?” Nora fished around in her pockets, ham, snake, loose change, string, there. Nora pulled out two lighters, flipping them in her hands. “I only do heavy arson.” God fucking finally someone in this town was going to let her light a house on fire. She’s been waiting to do this for a while. Frederick seemed like he really had his priorities in order. Plus, not that Nora was going to admit this to a person who called her babes, anyone who made Mimi suffer deserved to get burned. Just a little. Or a lot. Honestly she didn’t care. 

“Fishing supply stores?” Nora repeated that phrase, her monotone voice leaving out the questions that came with it. Why fishing supplies stores? Why not something cool? Like a butcher shop for some freshly sliced pieces of ham. Nora let herself get carried away with fantasies of fresh ham dropping straight into her mouth as she vaguely listened to Bridie’s constant chatter. Perhaps this was what it was like to be cursed. Except there would be eight Bridies talking at the same time. Yeah. Mimi definitely wasn’t strong enough for that. 

“Here?” Nora blinked as they stopped in front of a house. “What was her name again?” Nora dug back into her pockets, pulling out Slayer the knife. Today seemed like a good day to break in her newest knife. “Oh, right, I remember.” Nora shoved the balaclava over her face and walked right up to the front door. 

Normally these things required finesse. They required a bit of sneaking in an open window and coming and going before anyone noticed she was there. Normally. But normally Nora wasn’t pissed. Normally anger wasn’t bursting at her veins, constricting her arms and urging her towards violence. Normally was off the table. Violence was in.

Nora kicked the door down. It swung open limply in front of her, hanging sadly to the side. “JANE, I’M HOME.” Nora called into the emptiness of the house. A dark hallway greeted her, an empty canvas for her newest masterpiece. It was going to be a work of art. Illusionary monsters made of hot tar bubbled out of the walls around Nora as she stomped in the front door. They were humanoid shaped, missing the flesh that made up the human physic and simplified down to skeletons locked in permit anguish with jaws wide open in their agony, fingers scratching at the tar for freedom. Screams filled the silence, a chorus of what Nora thought hell’s tormented souls would sound like. As Nora moved farther and farther into the house they disappeared from behind her and reappeared in front of her, a constant movement accompanying her every step.

It took a minute or two, but the stench of Jane White’s fear as she realized an intruder was in the house led Nora right to her. The lady hunkered in her living room. Nora flipped the light switch on, knowing she wanted Jane to experience this as fully as possible. Nora had seen this woman - not her exactly, but the type-  many times before throughout her life. She wore her entitlement on the pearl necklace clasped around her neck. Her nose was permanently shoved up in the air, an indication of everyone underneath her smelling too bad to care. It was the same face of every rich woman Nora had terrorized as a kid. But this time it was going to be so much worse for her. “Jane White.” Nora summoned an illusion around herself, covering herself in the same black tar substance of the creatures locked in the walls. It bubbled and boiled off her, leaving a trace view of a naked skeleton underneath, all the while the screaming people emerged and melted from the walls around them. “I heard you’re a fan of curses.” 

_________

Truthfully, Jane White was expecting some blowback of her latest… encounter. Perhaps she should have been more upfront with the detective upon hiring him, but it wasn’t as if he’d have taken on the case if he’d had the knowledge that the necklace he was retrieving would curse him, and Jane simply couldn’t bear the thought of losing the heirloom that had been passed down through her family for so many generations. Sacrifices, her mother had often made, had to be made. She didn’t expect the detective — or his funny fae companion — to take the ordeal lying down, but… She was also confident that there wasn’t much either of them could do. The curse was a fast-acting one. The two of them would be dead by week’s end, she was sure of it. She only had to be vigilant a few more nights.

But she wasn’t expecting this. 

She’d figured whatever attempt the two would make would be a fairly pathetic one, given the curse’s effects. Whatever this was? She hadn’t seen it coming.

Fear grasped her throat in a strangling grip as the walls began to bubble. Some of the faces screaming in the plaster were familiar ones — people her cursed jewel had already taken care of. The ex boyfriend who had a disgusting habit of touching her things, the maid who Jane had just known was planning on stealing the silverware, the neighbor whose hedges had always grown just over the property line and into her lovely fence. All people she’d intentionally had touch the necklace. Jane wasn’t a spellcaster, but she knew how to use the magic she had access to. 

She’d just never thought she’d see it used against her. 

She didn’t quite know what the curse felt like; thanks to her family’s blood in her veins, she’d always assumed she never would. But maybe it was a little something like this. She screamed as a young woman, unfamiliar but covered in the same substance bleeding from the walls, came into the living room. “What do you want?” She screeched. “You are trespassing!” 

—

Bridie didn’t really know what she had been expecting for her first time breaking and entering. 

Maybe some mission impossible style descending from the ceiling. Maybe code names. Maybe picking locks. 

But it certainly wasn’t the fucking fireworks display of spectacularly scary shit Nora whipped out. Or at least, she hoped it was from Nora. Otherwise, she had officially lost it. 

Frankly, Bridie liked this version of robbery so much better. 

The faun skipped happily behind the young woman on her war path who demanded the homeowner make herself known.  And then something caught her nose. Honey and…. Meat? She didn’t have the mental capacity to question it. But she knew the scent of delight when she smelled it. Nora was having fun… Bridie’s stomach growled. STAY ON TASK DOUGHERTY. She thought. 

Plain Jane screamed… something, probably. She couldn’t really hear over the riot happening in her head. She’d taken to humming theme music over them in an attempt to drown it out. “HI JANE!” She sang happily, taking off her balaclava. “WELCOME TO HELL YOU OLD BITCH! Now tell us where the fuck the necklace is and my associate won’t make your life worse. Or maybe she will. I don’t run her life.”

____

“Am I trespassing?” The illusion flickered around Nora, morphing her into a characterization of Jane White. “Or are you?” An illusioned mirror floated around Jane, presenting her with an image of herself, but the reflection wasn’t true. The reflection showed back a homeless woman, covered in sickness and filth, cowering on the floor coughing and crying. “A homeless woman broke into my home.” Nora’s voice shifted into Jane White’s “Kill her! Kill the disgusting parasite.” The mockery of Jane’s voice was shrill, piercing the air around them. 

The creatures trapped in an endless torment at the wall started crawling out of the walls towards Jane. The rich lady’s legs had given out. Her fear came in an abundance, giving Nora a feast. It filled up the energy used in the creation of such intense illusions. Nora really needed to practice wielding these larger productions. They were always so taxing on her. Nora crouched in front of her, the smell of piss filled the air between them. Ha, the old bat had peed herself in fright. Nora let out a snort of derision. “Coward. Where’s all your power now?” 

Bridie was demanding answers from the woman. Nora’s eyes flickered to her, then back on Jane’s face. “Listen to the goat.” Nora told her, knife point tipping Jane’s chin up to make sure the woman was looking directly into Nora’s now disillusioned eyes. They remained as emotionless as ever. Nora wanted her to see just how much she didn’t care about any of this. Just how little Jane’s earth shattering fear affected Nora. Nora was in charge now. “Speak fast, before I decide I don’t need you to tell me.” The last part was whispered, a little conversation meant just between the two of them. 

____

Distantly, Jane was able to register the familiarity of the fae’s voice. Hard to keep track around all the screaming — most of it her own. She recognized that the detective was absent and some part of her, the part still capable of logic which was buried deep beneath the fear, wondered if he’d succumbed already. Was this vengeance, then? Attacking her out of anger on behalf of a dead man? What good would that do anyone?

The girl’s face changed into hers, and a mirror displayed a stranger’s face in her reflection. Jane’s hands went to her face, and the hands in the mirror followed. It would surprise no one to learn that Jane was an incredibly vain woman; the idea of her ‘beauty’ failing her was perhaps the only thing that terrified her more than the creatures melting out of the walls. The family necklace that she so loved was important, but was it truly more important than this? She could almost hear her ancestors screaming at her, scolding her for even considering it.

But then there was a knife at her throat, and nothing was louder than her own pounding heart. “The bedroom!” She shrieked. “The one at the top of the stairs! It’s in the jewelry box! Make it stop, please, make me go back!”

—

Whatever Nora was, it was impressive. It was a horrifying carnival- maybe she should hold a haunted house at the club at Halloween and see if Nora would be down to scare some people. The voices seemed to like that idea. They liked her thinking about that- what was he supposed to be thinking about again? Oh right, the necklace! There was a chorus of screams and boos in her head. Maybe the voices knew that the necklace was their end. That wouldn’t be good. Probably. 

But then that honey ham scent caught her nose again and she just couldn’t resist a taste. She sighed happily at the first taste of euphoria in what felt like forever. Bridie let herself focus on that, hoping that it could help push her through to see this thing to the end. But she blinked a moment, looking over at Nora. “Goat? But I… oh you know what, fuck it.” What little hold she still had on her glamour snapped, and the magic dispelled around her.

Jane was on the floor screaming so loud that the faun’s ears rang. She winced away from the sound, but she looked up the stairs. “Keep her busy, babycakes.” She said to Nora before the faun ran up the stairs. No way was she letting the kid touch the necklace. They didn’t need another person joining the crazy brigade.

Riffling through the room and making no attempt to keep it neat, Bridie dug around the jewelry box for the gaudy necklace. She helped herself to the other shiny things in there as well. It was the least Jane could do for leaving Bridie and Emilio to die. Her fingers closed around the cursed necklace, and she jammed it into her bag before running back down the stairs. “Target acquired! Jebidiah thinks you should go shopping before we leave honeybun. I think Jane thinks so too, don’t you Jane?”

_____

Babycakes? Nora’s eyes didn’t move from Bridie, but she did think this goat was weird for that one. While Bridie was away, Nora dug the knife a little too deep into Jane’s chin. “You’re getting off lucky, Jane.” Nora whispered, her monotone voice removing the bite she felt gnawing inside her. “I’m going to let you live, but if you ever hurt someone I care about again I’ll be back. I’ll make this,” Nora flicked her free hand in a lazy gesture around the horror-filled room, tilting her head to the side, making sure that Jane was meeting her directly in the eye. “Look like the most pleasant dream you’ve ever had.” 

Nora got back to a standing position as Bridie came bounding down the stairs again. Now that the necklace was acquired Nora let the illusions around them vanish. Just like that, horrors beyond Jane’s comprehension vanished and all that was left was her plain Jane home and the scent of piss to remind her of her shame. Nora gave her one last bored look, before turning her back. A message to remind Jane that she wasn’t a threat here. 

“We’re robbing her?” Nora asked, looking around at the interior. “Okay.” Nora disappeared into the kitchen pulling out all her cold cuts before rejoining Bridie. “I’m ready when you are.” Nora didn’t want to stay long. Nora wanted to get back to Mimi and make sure he was okay. Terrorizing Jane was all fine and good, but her mentor’s sanity was on the line. Nora would think Bridie’s sanity would be on the line, but with the amount of nonsensical nicknames being thrown at her, she was starting to assume Bridie never had any. 

_____

“You bet your ass we are. Janey-cakes was going to let us go insane. I think we deserve a little apology present.” Bridie waited as the young woman ran off into the kitchen. Jane was… crying, mostly. And smelled like piss. The faun gave the woman a wide berth. Unfortunately, as she waited for Nora, the voices were… rioting was probably the best word for it. 

They had gotten louder the minute her band closed around the necklace. It was almost as if they knew the plan, and that now that the necklace had been obtained, their existence’s were now on the clock. If she had thought it was noisy in her head before, this was utter chaos. She could not hear herself think. 

She didn’t hear the girl come back.  Her hands covered her ears, as though that small act could keep the voices at bay. Bridie blinked vacantly at Nora. She knew the girl had said something, but over the chorus of angry screams, she hadn’t heard a word. She nodded as if she understood and started making her way toward the door. The faun made her way toward the door, trying not to cringe, trying not to let the voices in her head win. “Let’s rock.”

______

Nora made sure to eat a big chunk of cold turkey cold cuts in front of Jane before following Bridie out the door. On her way out Nora made sure to knock things off shelves and slap paintings off walls. At the door Nora lit the wall paper on fire. It wouldn’t catch, probably, but she needed to send a message. To remind Jane that she would be back if necessary. 

Near her, Nora could see the goat cringing. Being cursed must suck, Nora decided. Nora slammed the door after them and started walking back towards Axis. “This was fun.” Nora commented, making small talk. She wasn’t sure if the added conversation would help or hinder the goat. “Curse breaking. I can add it to my resume now.” Proud graduate of Ligma University. Town Terror. Axis Apprentice. And now Curse Breaker. Things were really fleshing out for her. 

______

It was getting louder still. 

Louder and louder and louder. 

Each step she took away from the house, Bridie thought the volume in her head had been ratcheted up. And then a door slammed behind her, and shaky goat legs stumbled down the front steps. Whatever second wind she’d found in the hours leading up to their little heist, it was completely spent.

The curse was winning once again, and it would not see itself snuffed out. 

Bridie let out a sad little sob of a noise, rubbing balled fists against her eyes as she struggled to get herself back to her feet. She tried to push herself up once, twice- but the voices railed against the inside of her head. Her ears were ringing from voices that did not exist. She was so tired, and she just wanted to “make it stop…”

_____

“Oh bother.” The goat was down. This was not a drill. Nora tried to help the goat up, but it was like she was playing ‘my legs are jelly’, and each result ended in failure. Okay. Nora thought to herself. I’m a problem solver, I can solve problems. Nora paced back and forth, once, twice, three times. There was no information on how to break the curse. At least none that had been given to her. If it was a proximity thing, it was doing a bad job at fixing Bridie who still seemed to be losing it next to Nora. No. She couldn’t make that call. Nora needed to get Bridie and Emilio in the same room, which meant moving Bridie. 

Okay move Bridie. Maybe she could drag the goat. Nora attempted. The goat was heavy. It wasn’t working. Okay. She just needed to be stronger. The bear was stronger than her human, on account of being a bear. Nora started stripping in the middle of the street. The things she did for these people. Thankfully Bridie had a bag. Nora started shoving all her clothing into that bag until she was standing butt naked on a public street. “You’re going to need to get on the bear, Bridie. Okay? Get on the bear.” Hopefully the goat could muster enough energy for that.

Nora rolled her shoulders, stretched her arms and found that part in her, that part that was decidedly not human. Her bones started to shatter, elongate and expand. Her skin stretched, and fur protruded. Her face warped, elongating and sharpening. No longer human, a bear stood in front of Bridie. A polar bear, to be exact. Apart from the red eyes, sharp claws and inbearly sharp teeth. It let out a low rumble, getting down its belly as close as possible to Bridie. Come on, Nora thought to herself. You can do it, goat. 

_____

Nora was… getting undressed?

Had she touched some other cursed thing while they were at the house? Was the young woman losing her mind too? Bridie knew Nora was saying something to her, but the voices were so so loud. She watched in confusion as the woman stepped back and stretched.

And then, after a painful looking transformation, there was a bear. A whole ass polar bear. Sure it had red eyes, and very sharp claws and teeth, but it looked so fuzzy and cozy. That seemed like a good place to lay down while the voices screamed at her until she no longer in her own mind. She managed to force herself up enough to grab hold of the large bear, and hoisted herself onto its back. Snuggling down into the fur, she held on to it. Maybe scary bears scared off scary voices. She mumbled something about scary bear trump cards, before falling silent once more. She flinched every now and again as the voices kept up their howling, but she was too tired to care any longer. 

_____

Today Nora added two new jobs on her resume. Curse breaker and bear taxi service. Nora grabbed the bag off the ground in between her teeth and started walking. Luckily it was nighttime, most people were home for the night. The few that were out took bad flash photographs of the unlikely pair. Nora knew they would probably end up on some cosplay site with people asking what characters they were portraying, or if this was a stunt for a new show coming out. 

It took awhile, with only the occasional mumbling from Bridie as company, Nora was left with her own thoughts for most of the walk. If Emilio now knew who she was, was he going to turn her in? Was this her last job for him before he sent her back to L.A. for the reward money? Would Bridie piece together? Maybe she needed the money? Why did she care? Couldn’t she just be normal about people knowing who she was? No. The answer had always been no. It had been no since the moment her dads had decided to make sure her name was famous. 

Whatever, Nora told herself. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. It won’t hurt if it happens because she wouldn’t let it hurt. Or maybe she’d slipped up and said her name on her blog somewhere and he’d read it and that’s how he knew. Both of them had no clue. Yeah. That was a lie she could live with. That was the lie she repeated over and over as she walked them back to Axis Investigation. 

Nora carried Bridie up to the apartment’s door before shifting back into a human. Then she dragged the goat the rest of the way through the broken door. “Get up.” Nora’s monotone voice cut through the silence. Well, it was silent for her. For the two of them it was probably loud in their heads. “What do I do next?” Nora started digging Bridie’s bag, “Do I just break it?”

_____

He didn’t know how long he sat on the couch nursing that half-empty bottle. Minutes, hours, days, it was all the same. The monotony of the voices in his head made telling time impossible; night or day, early or late, they were just as loud. They were just as terrible. At some point, the bottle emptied. He didn’t feel drunk, somehow; it was as if the noise in his head was sobering him, denying him even that escape. Emilio screwed his eyes shut, bringing his knees to his chest as he sat on the couch. Probably a good thing, he figured, that they’d left without him. He would have only gotten them killed. That was really all he’d ever been good at.

But as time stretched on, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gotten them killed anyway by sending them alone. How long had they been gone now? Was it too long, not long enough? He thought of Mexico, of a massacre too big to fail and his feet slapping against the dirt as he ran home as fast as he could, destined to be too late no matter how many times he relived the moment. 

The door opened, and he didn’t hear it. Later, this would eat him up inside. He’d spend hours sitting up and staring at it, opening and closing it just to make sure he knew the sound by heart, just to make sure no one could come in without him knowing. But for now, lost in the sounds inside his head, he stared at the cushion in front of him unaware that he wasn’t alone until Nora’s shadow fell over him.

Flinching back, he glanced up at her with wild, unfocused eyes. Was she naked? Emilio quickly looked away, turning his head to focus on the bag she was digging through. Her words registered slowly, cutting through the voices piece by piece. She had it, then. Time to figure out what to do with it next.

“The gem,” he decided, voice hoarse. “I bet we need to break the ugly ass gem.” It made sense, didn’t it? For the magic to be stored in the centerpiece of the necklace, shimmering in the stone. If breaking it was the way to destroy it, they wouldn’t put the curse on something as easily unintentionally damaged as the necklace’s thin chain. They’d want it to be a harder sell. “I think we should shatter it.” It was a gamble, but what else did they have? There was no time for research. Emilio doubted he had another hour left in him, at this point.

—-

The reprieve bear-Nora had granted her was a welcome one. Exhaustion was winning out, and the faun simply lay slumped against the warm fuzzy back of the bear as the voices made their final stand in her mind. Bridie let out a shaky sigh, letting her thoughts get lost in the jumble. 

And then she was on the ground again. Oh. When did that happen? There was Nora, the bear gone. She found relatively steady feet below her, and she walked inside. Just a little bit longer. Just a little bit. 

She was grateful to see Emilio was still on this side of sanity. Bridie fished the cursed treasure out of her bag and held it aloft for the man to see. “Break the gem, break the curse…” she muttered softly. “It makes sense. Do it.”

_____

Break the gem. Okay. Nora could break a gem. Hammer. Wait. Clothes first. Nora grabbed her shirt from the pile of her clothes, sliding into it as she made her way deeper into Emilio’s apartment. Since the moment she’d started working here, Nora had made sure to examine all the cabinets. Just in case. Nora hadn’t thought just in case would be Emilio was cursed and couldn’t tell her where to find things, but it was still just in case non-theless Most of the cabinets just contained alcohol bottles, or the honey she’d recently been adding. So if she was the toolbox she knew was here, where would she be? “Perro, where was that tool box?” Nora asked the dog. He knew everything about this place. 

Bathroom, right the bathroom was where she saw it. Nora opened the cabinets until she found the rusty badly cared for toolbox that was probably left by the last tenant. Hammer. Nora hefted the thing in her arms. “Stay here, you don’t want to hurt your little paws.” Nora told the dog, before walking back to the cursed party. Nora laid the gem on the table. This better work, she came to the realization as she lifted the hammer, or she’d cursed herself by touching it. 

Smash. The first hit missed, landing on the table. Nora coughed, hoping they were too cursed to notice. Quickly she swung again. This time the hammer met its mark. When Nora lifted the hammer she saw a crack in the ugly gem. Again. Another crack. Again. It shattered, pieces of the jewel flying around them. A piece hit her face, a light scratch forming from the contact with the sharp edge. Nora pressed the palm of her hand against it instantly. “Ow.” A soft mumble under her breath, whatever. That’s probably why they were always talking about wearing those goggles on those shows. Fuck those dudes. Nora looked up, glancing between Emilio and Bridie. “The voices?” 

_____

The shadow of Nora standing over him vanished, though Emilio was too far gone to track her through the apartment. He’d heard once that when you lost one sense, the rest became overpowering. So what happened when one sense was overpowering on its own? Did the rest fade out to compensate? His vision had been black around the edges for hours now, darkness slowly creeping in. Would his sight go first? The thought was terrifying. The idea of existing in darkness, in utter sensory deprivation with only the roaring howl of the there but not there voices in his head being the last thing he ever experienced… 

If it came to that, he thought, death would be a welcome thing. Maybe that was part of the curse.

He jerked out of his mind at the sound of something hitting against the table hard. Only loud noises could break through the voices at this point, but a hammer? A hammer was loud. There was another bang, and then another. And then another. And then —

It was like the world stopped. The voices, which had built up slowly over a period of several days, halted all at once. Going from hearing a thousand different people in his head to hearing no one at all was jarring. For a moment, Emilio worried he’d gone deaf entirely. But there was a sound, a quiet mumbled ow that jerked him back into the moment the same way that hammer had before. Nora. 

He breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to him, closing his eyes and relishing in the quiet. It was somehow just as overwhelming as the voices had been, but in a different way. His throat felt thick with emotion, and he thought tears might spring to his eyes if he opened them, so he left them closed. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied hoarsely, relief clear in his town. “Yeah, they’re gone. Bridie?”

—

Bridie wondered if it was possible for her mind to have gotten so loud that she could no longer hear anything in her head at all. It was all silent. So blissfully silent. Maybe the voices had just become white noise to her now. 

But then there was a soft, but clear ow. And a question from a voice that she had not heard clearly the few times she’d heard it. Not with the voices trying to cut through. She opened an eye. There was Nora, waiting for an answer. She looked over to Emilio. She didn’t want to be the first to say it. Didn’t want to jinx it. 

Then she heard a hoarse ‘yeah’. At that word, Bridie slumped down into the nearest chair. She was silent for a long moment. Then a giggle bubbled up in her chest. It grew, and grew, until she was sat there laughing hysterically until the laughter turned to tears. “They’re gone. Holy shit they’re gone. It worked! Nora, babes, you have a life-long paid for tab at my club for smashing that rock.”

_____

Celebration filled the air in the form of Bridie laughing and Emilio looking like he was going to cry. Nora stood there, hammer in hand, looking between them. A small micro smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was nice, being helpful. It felt nice. Broken gem pieces were scattered across the floor, but this was Emilio’s apartment, and that was his problem. For now it was a good day to be a curse breaker.

Nora dropped the hammer onto the desk, letting it slam the surface with no decorum. She nodded, looking around, thinking about everything that had happened. Listened to her getting a life-long paid tab at a club, which club? Did it matter that she wasn’t legal drinking age? At this point she didn’t think anyone cared. “Bet.” Nora answered. “I’ll take you up on that.” She’d go there and, she didn’t know, try club things? What was that dancing and drinking? Nora looked back over to Emilio. A joke scratching the surface of her mind. Nora opened her mouth, prepping for a monotone delivery of what she was sure was just as funny as her internal joke of not getting paid to stand around and talk. “I want a raise.” 

_____

Bridie was laughing, the sound filling the apartment the same way the voices had seemed to before. But while the voices had been unwelcome and terrible, the laughter was light and easy. Emilio let out a single chuckle of his own, the sound half-strangled in a way that made it sound like some chimera version of a laugh mixed together with a sob. Christ. Christ. He hadn’t realized how bad things were until now. Until it was over. 

Then Nora spoke, and he let out another chuckle. Fuller this time, more alive by the second. “You got it, kid,” he replied dryly. “I’ll double your salary.”

#honeysmokedham #itzbridiebitch #nora: 2 cursed 2 furious #bridie: 2 cursed 2 furious #wickedswriting #s1 writing #season 1

[faustianbroker]

TIMING: Friday, 6/23. Early morning. LOCATION: A nondescript cabin in the Pines. SUMMARY: Leviathan goes after the warden that’s been trying to kill Bridie. CONTENT WARNINGS: Descriptive body horror.

—

The man looked surprised to see him, to say the least. Which Levi couldn’t exactly fault him for—not many people expected visitors at five in the morning. And of those early morning visitors, even fewer were expected to be demons out for revenge on behalf of their lovers. 

But Leviathan was nothing if not a constant challenge of one’s expectations. 

He shoved his way inside, barrelling down on the man with quiet, seething rage. The hunter started yelling at him to get off his property, threatening to gut him like a fish if he didn’t comply. The imagery inspired a smile, and then a laugh, which the warden didn’t seem too pleased about. 

“W-what the fuck do you want, man?!” 

“I want you to leave my girl alone.” A stupid lack of recognition passed over the hunter’s features. “Think, motherfucker. The faun.” The warden’s gaze darkened and he started to protest, but Levi silenced him with a hard stare and blunt interruption. “Shut up. I don’t trust you enough to take your word for it, my friend. So don’t waste your breath trying to complain, all right? We both know that isn’t how this is ending.”   

A few beats of silence passed between them. The warden, who realized that this man was here to kill him, was trying to figure out which stashed weapon was the closest. Leviathan was conjuring an image in his mind, and grinning while doing it. There was a flurry of movement and the man was diving for his nearest hidden knife, snatching it out from the underside of an armchair and scrambling to his feet. He whipped around and buried it in the chest of… of… oh. It wasn’t a man at all. 

Chuck the human’s face and chest had split open, and writhing beneath the surface of torn flesh and splintered bone, the warden could see something dark slithering quickly—too quickly. Its black scales shone with greenish-blue iridescence, slicked with red from its host, as whatever it was writhed and slithered in a tight formation just beneath the surface. Whatever it was, it seemed impossibly large—there was no way it could truly fit inside a human, try as it might. 

The hunter stepped back, aghast. His knife clattered to the floor as Chuck the human became less of a figure and more of a heap of viscera, torn apart by this thing inside of him as it tried to claw its way out. His screams could be heard deep in the woods around his cabin as he watched, pinned, as this massive beast climbed free from the gore. It filled his house as its long body never seemed to stop coming, twisting itself into knots. Its great head swung around to face the hunter, rows and rows of shark-like teeth bared at him in an open-mouthed hiss. Dozens of eyes stared at him as his body was pressed harder against the walls of his own home, the pressure not yet suffocating his horrified wails, but crushing his legs and pelvis beneath its weight. The satisfying crunch of bone giving way to immensity made Leviathan grin a beast-like grin. 

You are a cockroach, it spoke in the man’s head, basking in his fear like a bugbear enjoying its meal. You are a disease. Let me… The demon shifted, hoisting the broken man higher up the wall and fully smothering him with its thick, serpentine body. … cure you. A sickening, wet crack ripped through the cabin as the man’s ribs and skull gave way, and just like that, silence fell over them once more. 

Leviathan let the corpse fall to the floor, coiling in on itself more to reveal the meal. Without any kind of fuss, the demon struck out at it like a viper, snatching the ragdoll body in its jaws and throwing its head back, swallowing him whole. The next hour was spent napping and digesting, confident that no one else would come by… and if they did, it would just be having seconds.

#. thread ; #. solo ; #. cradle ; #blood tw #[ for the banner. tho it is actually wine ]

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Thief of your Heart - Chapter Three.

It’s time!! A huge thank you to those reading and leaving such lovely, full blown reviews, you are a writer’s dream! I get so excited to read your thoughts :) this might kill you a little bit, though. I got a tad emosh while writing it, hahaha!

Previous chapters - One  Two

Tag list - In the comments, please reply below to be added/removed

Words - 3,895

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Strong tea, thickly sliced, fresh white bread with a liberal smothering of butter and marmalade, the feeling of the cracked flagstones beneath her feet and her dear mother, humming hymns to herself at the sink as she washed the utensils she’d used to assemble their afternoon tea. Bridie Maguire could never leave anything unwashed for longer than a minute.  

Home. There was nothing like it.  

Abi often worried that she’d be lonely, with both Monica and her father long dead, pottering around her nice little house, all on her own, her only company the two German Shepherd dogs she enjoyed taking on long walks out over the fields for hours each morning, but Bridie was a woman of many friends and even more relations. She’d been the only one of her siblings who had stopped at just two children, and that was only because of Abi’s traumatic delivery ensuring she couldn’t carry any further pregnancies.  

“Here, I meant to show you,” she began, drying her hands and moving to the drawer to take out her digital camera, switching it on and handing it to her daughter. “Isobel’s confirmation. Doesn’t she look a peach?”

“Oh, look at her!” Abi began, smiling at the image of her cousin’s first daughter, looking so dainty and resplendent in her little white gown. “She got the corsage alright, I see?”

Bridie cocked her head fondly. “Aye, a lovely gesture. Your auntie Mary was so touched that you remembered. It was a grand day, so.”

A gun toting, chain smoking, whiskey shotting, arms dealer she might have been, but Abi never forgot about her family, all of whom she loved immensely. “And little Paddy got his birthday card alright, too?”

“Yes! But you spoil those children, love. He squealed the house down when a fifty-pound note dropped out!”  

Abi imagined it, her cousin Sarah-Jayne's youngest, smiling warmly. “He’s the apple of my eye, that wee boy. It’s part guilt money, though, since I don’t get to spend nearly as much time as I’d like with them.”  

Bridie drew up a chair opposite, pulling her cigarettes out. She didn’t offer one across the table, knowing her daughter’s thoughts on menthols. She’d smoked Benson and Hedges since she was sixteen, never deviating. Menthol cigarettes were, as Abi always claimed, like smoking toothpaste. “It isn’t your fault, though, why you’re away so much.”

She shifted a little, finger combing her hair. “Aye, but it is, really.”

Bridie sighed, lighting up, her hand covering Abi’s. “It was all a long time ago.” Her mother hadn’t been quite so understanding back when it had all come out. In fact, she’d slapped her daughter around the face for it, her audacity to cheapen the sanctity of marriage by having an affair with another woman’s husband. “Out of all the people you could have chosen though, Abigail.”

Oh, here she was. Right on time.

“Why Filip?”

Abi snorted, lighting her own cigarette. “You’ve got eyes, ma.”

“I know, he was a handsome chap, but you had droves of lovely young lads calling to court you”

Abi sniffed, examining her nails. “I didn’t want a lad. I wanted a man.”

“Why though?”

She couldn’t bite back her grin, raising her eyebrows fleetingly as she sipped her tea, Bridie aghast.

“By the love of the holy mother, you’ll wipe that smirk off your face, child!”  

“You asked!” she exclaimed, laughing.  

“Dirty girl.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “I was. He liked it.”

She almost exploded at her mother’s gasp. “Thirty-two isn’t so old that I can’t swill that mouth out with soap and water. Jesus Christ!”  

“Oh, come on, ma! It’s only sex!”

“Taking up with someone’s husband, when you were just a child, too. God almighty!”

“Pots and kettles, mother. You were exactly the same age when daddy asked you out, you told me so yourself! You were no child, and neither was I.”

“Your father and I saved ourselves for marriage!”

Ahhh, touché. She had no comeback for that, her mother, such a proper Catholic woman smiling in triumph, Abi poking out her tongue in immature defiance. Bridie eventually laughed. “Still no closer to settling down yourself, then?”  

Her mother, she truly was like clockwork.

“Nope,” Abi confirmed, setting her tea down and flicking the long ash that had gathered at the end of her cigarette into the large, amber coloured ashtray between them. “There was only one man I would have married, and we both know why I didn’t.”

Bridie looked a little stunned at that confession. “Really?”  

“I did try to voice it to you at the time, how much I loved him, ma. I know, though, with daddy passing, you had enough on your plate. Plus, you thought it was just a crush I had. I know, I was so young, still, but I knew my heart. It always had, and always will beat for one man.” Her lamentation made her mother reach for her hand once more.  

“Filip Telford is long gone though, love.”

Those words, although echoing a reality she lived with daily, still made her heart sink. “Aye, but it doesn’t change anything. If he walked through that door right now, I’d be just as in love with him as I was when I was eighteen,” she confessed, her mother shaking her head.

“It’s a shame, so it is. That you never found anyone. I mean, I’m progressive enough to realise you never had the maternal streak, never wanted babies, but I feel sad for you, that you’ve not got a nice man to come home to.”  

She’d have had his babies in a heartbeat.  

“I’m home so infrequently, though. Whoever I found, if I did, would tire of it. My lifestyle doesn’t lend to being cosy with some regular guy. He’d have to be outlaw or army to even be capable of understanding, and there’s no one within those categories who remotely interests me currently,” she confessed, Bridie nodding. She’d had boyfriends here and there in the time between, but they never lasted for very long. The last was a Russian named Vladislav, who she’d barely seen in their seven months together.  

“Aye, love. Now that, I do understand. You’re your daddy’s golden girl, you know. He was so proud.”

Abi scoffed, drawing fiercely on her cigarette. “He died angry with me for what I did.”

“No,” her mother stated with stern vehemence. “He was angry with Filip, never you. He raised you and Monica to fight our cause, and you did and still do. You are the walking embodiment of his teachings, so you are, and I will not allow you to speak like that in my house, my girl. He died proud that his little girl was following in his footsteps. Fair enough, you’ll never ascend to king, or rather, queen in your case, but for a woman in our world, you’re bloody doing well.”  

If there was one thing she had done favourably in Bridie’s eyes, it was her career trajectory. Bridie Maguire was staunchly republican to her very core, and while she didn’t agree with a lot of her husband’s methods in moulding her daughters in his image, she was immensely proud of her remaining offspring. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“No, sorry, ma. I’m meeting with Sinead.”  

“Oh! Send her my love. I saw Margaret at the market last week and she mentioned she was doing well.” Sinead was Abi’s closest friend, even though their lives had gone in very different directions. Sinead was a school teacher, worlds apart from her life, which Abi did not make her one hundred percent privy to. Of course, she didn’t. She cared about her too much to ever let her know enough to put her in danger. However, there was something she did clue her in on as they sat drinking beers together at their local pub after eating dinner.  

“Filip called me a week ago.”  

Sinead all but choked on her sip of beer. “Of all the things I expected you to blurt out tonight, that was the very last of them.” She looked stunned, reaching for Abi’s cigarette and taking a huge drag.  

“Didn’t you quit a year ago?”  

Another drag was taken. “After hearing that, I think a little nicotine is warranted!” She had a fair point. “Jesus Christ, Abi. What did he say? Why was he calling?”

“Club business,” she replied succinctly, Sinead knowing of course she couldn’t reveal details. “Suffice to say serious enough to warrant him calling me of all people. No, keep it.” She waved her hand when her friend offered the smoke back, lighting herself a fresh one.  

Her stunned face endured. “Sorry, sorry! I’m being a shite friend here. I should have asked if you’re okay.”  

Abi took a deep breath, blowing her cheeks out. “Yes.” A long pause followed, coupled by a half shrug of her shoulders. “Not so much. Well, at the time. I’ve pulled myself together again since.”

“Sweetheart,” Sinead cooed softly, reaching to stroke her cheek. “Brought back the past for you, yeah?”

“Yeah. Christ, yeah.” She hugged herself for a second, shifting in her seat a little. “Just hearing his voice, fuck me, Sinead. It took me right back there. We can never be, I know we can’t, but Jesus, it really hammered it home, how much I still love him. It was fucking awkward, it wasn’t us. Then again, we haven’t been us for just shy of fifteen years.”  

“Did he say anything else, other than asking about this club business?”

Abi shook her head, threading a hand through her hair. “He asked how I was. What else could he say, though?”

“Aye, true. There isn’t a whole lot. Bloody hell, though. Bloody hell!”

“I know,” she confirmed, sighing softly. “I know.” Silence followed, Abi drawing on her cigarette, chasing a bead of condensation running down her pint glass with her fingertip. “I kept thinking about the first time I met him, when I was fifteen, how in love with Fiona he was, how he didn’t give me a second look. Of course, he didn’t. When I hit seventeen though and decided I wanted to act on the little schoolgirl crush I had on the big, bad outlaw, well...”  

“The way that man used to look at you. I swear, even I felt turned on and I didn’t even fancy him!” Sinead exclaimed, Abi chuckling.  

“But what I thought of most, it wasn’t how it began. It was how it ended.”  

Belfast, 1995.

A rapid banging of knuckles upon her door roused Abi from where she’d been dozing on the sofa, lifting her head, wondering if it was one of the guys there to pass on some information. Her flat was directly above the warehouse where the army stored weapons, hidden in amongst legal trading tender. The flat was once used by the foreman when it had been a lighting factory, Michael gutting it and making it more hospitable when Monica had expressed her desire to move out, Abi taking it on after she’d died. She felt close to her there.  

After pattering barefoot down the stairs, dressed in her favourite outfit of a pair of her boyfriend’s boxers and one of his t shirts that buried her, she opened the door to see the man himself there, looking ashen, his eyes conveying the feeling of unease he carried within, physically carrying a large hold all over his shoulder.  

“She knows.”

Fuck.

Abi’s mouth dropped open. At last, the jig was up. “How? Did somebody tell her?” She moved out of the way to let him in, Chibs taking the stairs two at a time, such was the length of his legs, her racing up after him. He threw his bag down, flopping down on the sofa and leaning forward, picking up her small jar of banana lip balm. “This shite in here is how she fuckin’ knows.”  

Within their circle, Abi was famous for her lip balm, so strongly scented that people could smell it a mile off, Fiona of course witnessing the aroma of it for herself before whenever she’d given Abi a hug of greeting. “I didn’t think it’d still be lingering after this morning, but fuck, as soon as she had my cock in her mouth, she knew straight away!”  

That was impressive staying power, Abi giving him a blow job that morning to keep him satisfied, since she was on her period and he didn’t have time to take her for sex in the shower, save the bedsheets becoming a bloodied mess.  

“Jesus fucking Christ! Fuck! What are we gonna do?” she began in panic. It was the first time Chibs had ever witnessed her succumb to such.

“Well, she’s slung me out on my arse, hence me turning up here. I guess we’ll have to await the likely wrath of your da,” he sighed, Abi shaking her head.

“He’ll be giving no wrath. The nurses have arrived at home, to take care of him. He didn’t want to go into a hospice and mammy wouldn’t hear of it either. He’s in his final days.”

“Ahh, hen. Come here.” He opened his arms, Abi, moving to sit astride him, cuddling against him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”  

“If your fucking wife burdens him with this in his last days, though, I’ll never forgive her. I’ll smack the teeth out of her mouth for it.”

An uncanny promise, as Chibs knew that was exactly what Fiona would do to Abi right at that moment. ‘I’ll kick her bony little blonde arse from one side of Belfast to the fucking other when I catch her!’ she’d roared, while hurling ornaments at his head.  

“Look, it’s gonna be fine, alright? I’ll face whatever I have dealt to me, likely by your mother now your dad is... well, close to the end, then people will just have to get used to the fact I’m with you. We’ll likely receive a lot of flak, but it’ll be fine. I mean, the guys in the club know already, so there’s half of it done with.”

Her smile tilted a little, Abi stroking his neck, bobbing her head slightly. “You actually want us to be together properly?”

He snorted, squeezing her thighs with affection. “Of course, I fuckin’ do, you muppet! How could you think that I wouldn’t? It’s where we’ve been heading, me leaving her. I did state that to you a while ago too, if you remember. I don’t know, you were pretty pissed when we spoke of it.” She beamed at his words, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you, CB.”

“Love you too, BDT.” It sounded awful, and he knew it was, selfish, too, but perhaps Michael’s impending death couldn’t have come at a better time. He was too sick with cancer to deal with this matter. Something cold then struck him strongly in his gut; there was nothing to stop another agent from exercising his wrath. That agent manifested himself nine days later, after Abi had received a broadside from her parents, her father decidedly less venomous than she’d expected, telling her that he was disappointed in her, but didn’t have enough time left to dwell. He’d died two days after their talk.  

‘Come give daddy a cuddle, come now.’ He’d said weakly, Abi snuggling up to him.  

‘Please don’t have him hurt da. I love him so much.’  

Michael had kissed her head, stroking her hair. ‘Aye.’ He’d been vague for a reason, that reason kicking her front door down at 6am while she’d slept with her head on her love’s chest, the very last time she ever would.  

“Get your strides on, Filip. Time to go,” Jimmy demanded, Abi reaching for the t shirt she’d been wearing and putting it on, her next grasp at her gun. “You put that down, Abigail. Now.”

“Where are you taking him?” she demanded, Chibs getting up and dressing.

Jimmy eyed her, tilting his head back, an air of authority radiating from him. “That isn’t for you to know, girl.”

“He’s my boyfriend! You can’t do this!” she screamed, watching him tut as he pointed at her.

“I do what I like, little girl. Come now, Filip, you know what has to happen.”  

Chibs nodded, turning back to Abi, stroking her hair, kissing her. “It’ll be okay.”  

“No, it won’t! Not if he’s walking you to your death. You can’t do this, Jimmy!”

“Oh, spare me the drama. Nobodies dying, Christ sakes. Get him out of here.” Jimmy yelled, waving his arm in the direction of her stairs with agitation, his henchmen pulling Chibs away.  

“I love you,” she called, holding back her tears.  

“Love you more, CB.” Once they were gone, her knees buckled, Abi crashing to the painted white floorboards beneath her and wailing, convinced it was a lie and that he was about to be shot. In between repairing her front door and trying not to panic, she called as many people as she could think of, trying to get information, of course being met by nothing but unwillingness. No one was giving the information up, not a single soul.  

“Look, I’ve got the lads out looking for him, but nothing as yet, love. I think we’d know by now, if Jimmy had killed him. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything, alright, sweetheart?” McGee pledged, after she’d called the clubhouse for the fifth time. She worried and chain smoked until 2am, until finally, she heard a knock upon her door. Opening it, she gasped in horror, seeing her boyfriend there, his face beaten, slashed but stitched, looking a shell of himself.  

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god!” she cried, throwing her arms around him, Chibs hugging her tightly, thankful he could at least do that. Inside, though, he was torn up, knowing the news he had to deliver to her. “Come in, oh Jesus. I’ll fucking ruin Jimmy for this, blow his car up, you see if I don’t!” she raged as they headed up the stairs, Chibs sighing, running his hands through his hair, his face burning in pain. It had taken him half a bottle of Jameson, to be able to stitch himself back together.

“You won’t, darlin’. You can’t,” he spoke, beginning to pack his clothes and guns back into his holdall.

“I will! We both can, we can take him out for this!” She was vexed, her eyes wild, anger pulsing through her, as he knew it would.  

He sighed, zipping his bag up. “Why are you packing, anyway?” she then asked, seemingly too enraged to notice it before that moment.  

Coming to her, he wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly, drinking it in, his last chance to feel her against him, smell her, feel his chest flutter with the happiness she evoked, even though that happiness was colliding with the sense of dread, at having to leave her behind.

“I’m banished, Abi. I leave the country at 5am, never to return.”  

“What?” she shrieked, her insides twisting sharply, as if she had swallowed a thousand razorblades.

“I have tae go, and I can’t take you with me.”

“Yes, you can! We can go anywhere together, far away from them! South Africa, Australia, anywhere! I don’t care, as long as I have you!” she desperately tried to bargain, a cold frost icing her veins, freezing her heart as she watched him shake his head.  

“I fly out from Dublin at 6am, bound for Gatwick, where I’ll then take another flight to the US. I’m being taken in by SAMCRO, to be their go between for the army and SAMBEL. If I don’t do it, Jimmy has told me he’ll have no qualms about blowing a hole in my skull. I’m sorry, my baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”  

His words hit her like a truck, Abi clinging to him as she began to wail, Chibs feeling his heart rip in two. “No, no, no! I can’t, I can’t lose you! I love you too much to lose you, Fil!”  

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Aye, I know, pet. I know. It has to be this way, though. Myself, I couldn’t care less about, but I’m not putting my girls in danger. Especially not you. With your da gone, that mad bastard holds the cards, he can you use three against me as leverage. He won’t let you leave with me, either. Expressly forbade it.”  

“It was because of my da that this happened! I made him promise me he wouldn’t hurt you, and he broke it! I fucking curse his grave for this!”  

“Shhhhh, darlin’. Don’t say that. Come on, calm down.” She didn’t though, although composing herself, she sobbed against his chest, breathing in his scent deeply, wanting to burn it into her memory, how he smelled, how he felt, how she felt, in the safety of his arms, a safety she was set to lose forever. “Gimmie a kiss, a careful one.”  

Because of the state of his face, he couldn’t even kiss her properly goodbye, but he did so with all the feeling and love he harboured for her all the same, holding her face in his hands, kissing her forehead, her eyelashes, the tip of her nose, resting his head to hers. “I have to go now. Just know that days, weeks, months and years can pass, and I will still love you. Until the last beat of my heart, I’m yours, even though we can’t be together.”

His words rocked her foundations to rubble, because he was never profoundly emotional, it just wasn’t him. For his last words to have been so beautiful, it killed her even more, her heart broken as it swelled at hearing him pledge such, the pain unbearable, made even sharper when she saw him blink two tears down his torn-up cheeks. “I love you too, Filip. You are, and always will be, my absolute everything.”  

Taking the silver cross pendant from around her neck, she put it over his head, kissing him again, watching him smile all he could, sliding the simple, gold skull ring from his little finger, pushing it onto her first, kissing her one last time, his arms strong around her.  

Then, he was gone, and without him, she couldn’t breathe.  

“God, yes. I still remember it, having to literally pick you up off the floor,” Sinead revealed, shaking her head, remembering the mess she’d found her best friend in. She didn’t eat anything for the first four days he was gone, sustained only on fruit juice, whiskey, cigarettes and weed.  

“I still thank you for it too, mate. I’d probably still be there now if you hadn’t.” Her joke was delivered with a little snort, her eyes glassy as she sniffed, stroking the gold ring that remained on the index finger of her right hand. She’d never taken it off. Sinead was around the table and sat next to her in an instant, bundling her up in a huge hug. “I’m such a twat.”

“You’ll not say that, no!” her friend stated strongly, kissing her hair, her hands gripping her tightly.  

Abi leaned into the security of the warming hug, letting her tears fall. Maybe she wasn’t as okay for hearing his voice again as she’d thought.

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[itzbridiebitch]

Or Am I Losing My Mind?

PARTIES: Bridie

LOCATION: Bridie’s apartment.

TIMING: 3 am.

SUMMARY: Bridie wakes up from what she thought was a nightmare. And it continues to be a nightmare while she’s awake.

CONTENT WARNINGS: disembodied voices, death threats from said disembodied voices, injury, gore mentions

He killed me.

It was a weird thought to wake up to in the middle of the night. Especially since Bridie wasn’t dead. Especially since the thought didn’t sound like hers. She looked at the clock and groaned at the soft blue digital light that said three AM. She groaned, rolling out of bed, dragging a throw blanket with her and draping it over herself like a hood.

As she blearily shuffled to the kitchen for water, she thought about the thought for a minute. Maybe it was a dream or something. Some weird lingering nightmare that she remembered nothing of except for those final words. Yawning, she pulled a cup from her cabinet. “He killed me.” An angry whisper hissed in the darkness. Bridie jumped, the glass slipping from her hand and shattering against the floor. “Fuck!“ Bridie hissed as the glass splintered around her feet.

She flicked on the lights in the kitchen, looking around. The TV was off. There was no one visible in her apartment. The windows were closed. She didn’t have a radio… maybe one of her neighbors had their tv on too loud. Maybe they just really liked horror movies.

The hammering of her heart started to slow as she realized she was alone. Totally alone… she didn’t think she was still drunk. She’d barely had anything the night before. It was just her imagination. She grabbed a dust pan and knelt on the ground as she started to sweep up the shards of glass.

“He fucking killed me and he pretended to mourn me.” The voice skittered over her shoulder and she jumped. Bridie hissed in pain as her hand pressed into the shattered glass. She whimpered as she inspected it, glancing over her shoulders to make sure there was no one there. Her pulse jumped as fear started to curl its way through her. What the fuck was going on?

“I trusted him, and he stabbed me in the back and tore my throat out and he’s still fucking out there!” The voice rang in Bridie’s head as panic seized her. She let out a scream as she scurried back into the corner of her kitchen, her eyes shut tight.

She waited for whatever came next. More voices. An apparition. The murderer the voice was speaking of. But nothing came. There was no sound but the gentle evening breeze as it slipped through the trees outside. The faun whimpered, opening her eye a moment to inspect her apartment. No one was there. She looked at her hand. It was still bleeding. She hissed as she plucked the shards of glass out, every plink of glass in the dustpan making her flinch as though the voice would come back. But there was nothing but silence.

She cleaned up the mess, and patched herself up in the stillness of early morning, waiting for some sign she hadn’t imagined it. But she was beginning to think it may have been a waking nightmare. One of those medical mysteries where you’re awake but you’re asleep.

It was four-thirty by the time she was safely tugged back into bed. Her racing heart had finally settled, but she was carefully bundled in blankets and pillows like a frightened child. Bridie’s eyes finally started to close as sleep had started to claim her once more. As unconsciousness had almost claimed her, the voice slithered once more through her mind. “He’ll kill you too.” It warned.

Bridie didn’t sleep anymore that night.

#self para: or am I losing my mind

[darklordofthesimp]

MOM ITS ME ASKING A QUESTION

WHAT IF GHOST BIRDY AND SUNSHINE WERE THERE BUT BIRDY PUSHES SUNSHINE IN THE WAY OF THE SHOOTING LINE ONLY BECAUSE THEY SEE HOW CLOSE AND HOW GOOD THEY ARE AS A SNIPER AND AS GHOSTS PARTNER ? WHAT WOULD GHOST DO? TO BRIDY??

FUCKING KILL THEM?

LIKE???

ARE YOU ASKING IF BIRDY FUCKING STRAIGHT OUT MURDERS SUNSHINE??? 💀💀

IF THATS THE CASE THE GHOST WOULD STRAIGHT UP JUST SNAP THE BITCHES NECK

[closingwaters]

PARTIES: @itzbridiebitch @closingwaters

TIMING: Last Week

SUMMARY: Bridie is having fun making someone dance for her, and Teagan joins in to make the fun a little bloodier.

WARNINGS: Talks of torture

There was simply nothing Bridie hated more than assholes. Unfortunately, in her line of work, they always seemed to find their way into her club and make other peoples nights miserable. 

Fortunately, she had ways to deal with these things. 

Chad (at least, she assumed his name was Chad. No one who was as much of a jerk had a name that didn’t sound like something out of a stereotypical frat house) had been a fucking menace all evening. And not in the cute endearing way. After watching him absolutely kill the vibe for so many poor people just trying to enjoy their evenings, she decided she’d had enough. So Bridie did what Bridie did best. 

And that was how she’d gotten there. In the dark corner of they alley outside, a wicked, feral gleam of a smile on her face, watching into the twentieth straight minute that Chad had been dancing the Cotton Eye Joe. Bridie laughed as he stumbled over his own to feet, hopping back and forth like a man possessed. Well, not possessed. But definitely compelled. And she had no intentions on letting the man stop. “Pick up the pace, Chad, you’re falling off tempo.” The man’s face was a dazed, vacant smile, but he did as he was told. 

She had been so lost in the reverie of watching her handywork, she hadn’t heard the footsteps. She saw a shadow on the ground beside her, and she spun around. “Oh hi! We’re um. Just having a little outdoor dance party! See?”

Wicked’s Rest, as small as it was in comparison to other cities Teagan had been to, seemed so vast at night. Maybe it was the way certain things were able to trapeze around with no sun as a threat. Or maybe it was the fact that darkness was so vast and endless.

Regardless, Teagan didn’t mind. She adored the sun, the way it warmed her skin, but under the veil of Mother Night, her cousins—the lampade’s home, there was a kind of freedom that light didn’t bestow. Things were easier to cover. Much like the scene Teagan walked in on in that otherwise dismissable alleyway. She felt it before she laid eyes on it. The lovely and familiar buzz that crept into any fae’s skin when another was near.

“Hello,” The nix smiled devilishly, eyes scanning the fae woman in front of her. Given the way she was laughing and making the idiot dance for her, Teagan could only guess she was a faun. How fascinating it always was to watch a cousin in their element. “No need for that, lass,” Teagan stepped forward with a giggle. “Don’t you feel that buzzing? One of the family. You’re safe ‘round me.”

The skittishness of being caught red handed when she was in the process of a very amusing kill had temporarily eclipsed the little zip of electric, magical instinct that said the fae were close by. Bridie paused, taking in the little details of the other fae, trying to gauge just what they were. She couldn’t quite be certain. All Bridie knew was the smile on their face spoke of the fun kind of trouble that could be had. 

“You took me by surprise, honey. I’m not used to an audience. Though I think Chad is deserving of an audience. Hey, Chad, babycakes, I think it’s time to switch songs. Time for the Cupid Shuffle!” Bridie was gleeful, snapping her hand to indicate an inaudible, imaginary change in songs. “I want those kicks nice and high, Chad!” Ignoring the man as he nearly split his jeans trying to kick his leg as high as he could, the faun turned back to the unidentified fae.

A wild, yet somehow warm smile crinkled the corners of her mouth. “I promise, I’m usually way better about noticing folks and saying hi to y’all. But this one has my full attention at the moment.” Or at least he did until a pretty new friend walked over. “What are you called?”

A devilish smile tugged on each side of Teagan’s lips. Oh how she missed partaking in mischievousness with her fellow fae. She couldn’t help herself, closing the distance and securing her own seat to a show of her new friend’s making. Her eyes danced between the one named Chad and whoever this faun was. Teagan thought she was pretty, gorgeous even. 

Flashes of an evening filled with playing with the poor dwt who had the audacity to bother the fae danced in every flutter of thought. Teagan grazed her fingers down her companion’s arm, plucking her hand into her own. “My name is Teagan.” She placed a soft kiss on the back of the woman’s hand. “And you, darling? Who am I going to spend the evening with?”

Oh, Bridie liked that smile. That wicked, impish, playful smile. Like an agreement to revel in the maenad’s little games, whether they be bacchanalian delights, or treating an irksome mortal like the silly little plaything it could be. 

Gentle fingers traced down the faun’s arm, and the wild smile on her face widened, her cheeks causing her eyes to crinkle. Warm lips brushed over the back of Bridie’s hand, a soft delighted hum catching in her throat as her focus shifted fully to the pretty fae before her.  “Teagan is a pretty name,” The faun said, looking her new friend up and down. “It definitely suits you.” Twisting their hands so Teagan’s was on top, Bridie mirrored the gesture as she brought Teagan’s hand to her lips, brushing a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “You’re spending your night with someone called Bridie.” 

It was such a delight to watch the gleam in Bridie’s eyes brighten. How could it not? Not only was she in her element, but she was being joined by a fellow fae. That always had a way of sparking even more fun. Personally, Teagan preferred a wetter and bloodier approach, but she could make due with what was in front of her. She was always rather good at adapting. Besides, if the toy proved to be boring, she could always focus on the faun. 

“Bridie suits you as well.” Teagan dragged her finger along Bridie’s jaw, ending at her chin to tilt it upward. She leaned in, placing a small peck to the faun’s cheek before looking back at the dancing man. “What’s next for this lad? I like to make things a little bloody, but you’re the director. I’ll follow your lead.”

If Bridie had any concerns about her night being boring with the man slowly dancing himself to death in the alley, she was quickly being proven wrong with the sudden appearance of Teagan. She bit her lip as the fae titled her chin up and kissed her cheek. God, she missed partying with the fae. 

“Ooh, that is an excellent question my pretty friend.” Her gaze shifted back to Chad. Ugh, Chad. “Death by line dance is usually a lengthy process. It’s endlessly entertaining, but I love to shake things up once in a while.” The faun cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow raised. “What’s your idea of a good time babes? I like seeing what other people find fun. I don’t mind a little mess, as long as it doesn’t get tied to this place,” she jerked her head toward the club. “It’s an all you can eat buffet in there, and I’m not about to jeopardize that.”

“Hmm…” Teagan tapped on her chin, looking around to find the best course of action. It was a pity they couldn’t make a mess. Spattering blood across the ground was always such a pretty sight. She hardly even minded the burn it caused her skin. The sensation excited her, even. Perhaps a change in scene was in order. If the two of them were going to have proper fun, they needed a secluded area where they could be carefree. The woods weren’t far off, Teagan didn’t think. And the fellow didn’t look terribly heavy in case things went sour. 

First things first, though, the nix wanted a small taste of her new friend.  

“Why don’t we venture to the woods then? Just a short walk.” Teagan leaned into Bridie, maneuvering around so her hands were on either side of the faun. Her lips found a soft piece of flesh on her neck, and she nipped at it gently, kissing it immediately before trailing up to meet Bridie’s lips with hers. “Then I can make that blood pour out of him with no worries at all.”

Bridie hummed along to nonexistent music as Teagan thought. She glanced over at Chad, stumbling his way through the ‘now kick’ section of the Cupid Shuffle. Poor bastard was in for a rough night. Well. Rough for him. Fun for them. 

“A short walk to the woods,” Bridie echoed. Her breath hitched in her throat at the teeth that grazed the delicate skin of her neck before lips brushed over it in a kiss. Wide doe eyes watched carefully before fluttering shut as lips met hers. The supposed innocence her eyes may have portrayed was gone in an instant as the maenad chased after Teagan’s lips, pulling her back into a hungry kiss. “That sounds like a perfect plan. I think you should lead the way.”

Without hesitation, Teagan took Bridie’s hand, beckoning Chad to follow with the other. It all felt so familiar, so innate and easy to fall into such a role. As if the fae had known each other for years and they were simply picking up where they left off. In some ways, that was true. Teagan believed in past lives, souls recognizing each other despite eons of time passing. Perhaps that was what was happening. 

The very thought made her happy, relief filling her. Despite her efforts to isolate in her current form, there was comfort in knowing other versions of herself weren’t so terrified of connection. Bridie, be it as it may that she was fae, likely wouldn’t be a venture Teagan would pursue again. Or maybe she would. She’d been surprising herself lately with Leticia and Arden. Only time would tell, though.

“We’re here.” The trio sauntered into a woody clearing, a perfect place to splay blood any way they wished. “Now Chad, why don’t you continue to give us two a show while I tend to Miss Bridie a little longer?” Teagan waved Chad off, pulling Bridie into her as she retrieved a small blade from beneath her shirt. She brandished it for Bridie to see, kissing the faun deeply with a giggle. “Think we can manage a thousand cuts on the lad?”

Hands laced together, the faun practically skipped alongside the other fae. She still wasn’t quite certain what kind of fae Teagan was, but Bridie knew with their kind, like called out to like. That buzz of familiarity that let them know they were safe, that they were with their own kind- feeling that was like another fae calling out and saying I am here, there you are. It had always been a comfort to the faun. 

It had been far too long since she’d found herself in the comfort of the woods. Bridie let go of Teagan’s hand a moment as she twirled in the moonlight, taking in a deep breath. She delighted in watching the other fae give the man orders. “High kicks, Chad. High kicks!” She demanded as Teagan made her way back to her. 

Bridie’s eyebrows raised as the knife gleamed in the moonlight. She wriggled her eyebrows a moment before Teagan pulled her in a deep kiss. The maenad tangled a hand in the other woman’s hair before she pulled herself away to take in the knife. She ran a delicate finger along the blade, careful not to hurt herself. “That’s a great song. But I think we can manage a thousand and one at least.” She’d lowered her head to the fae’s neck, nibbling at the skin below her ear. “What do you think?”

How could anyone focus with their skin buzzing and Bridie’s insatiable nature? She was just as hungry as Teagan was—maybe hungrier. The Vite at her neck did nothing to help the nix’s focus, but with the help of her self-restraint, she got her mind to dedicate itself to another source of fun. 

Right. Chad. A thousand and one cuts.

Teagan leaned into Bridie one last time, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She grinned, the expression far too soft for the violent nature of her next action. “We can go as high as we want, dearie.” Teagan made the first cut on Chad’s shoulder, the laceration small and seemingly inconsequential. A thousand more and how would that feel? It certainly had to break that empty smile of his, didn’t it? Guess they’d have to see. 

“How about you take the next few, lass? Love watching a woman have her fun. Show me what you can do.” Teagan chuckled as she flipped the knife, catching the blade to hand it over to Bridie. “Or should we do it together? Lady’s choice.” 

This was becoming a habit with Bridie. Following people down rabbit holes of their darkest desires. There wasn’t even euphoria to feast on. Not among her fellow fae. No, this was just for the other fae’s enjoyment. Well. Teagan’s enjoyment, and Bridie’s enjoyment, and Bridie’s determination to not have a fucking creep bothering her patrons. 

She studied the knife, her eyes trailing up from the tip of the blade, up the arm that held it, and finally to Teagan’s face. The faun’s tongue flicked out as she licked her lips, her eyes continuing to flicker over the woman. 

“Hmm,” the hum rumbled in her chest as she pretended to contemplate her options. “Maybe you teach me? Show me how it’s done?” She batted wide, doe like eyes at the woman in a manner that was anything but innocent. “Doing it together just sounds like so much more fun.”

Wicked’s Rest was just so full of surprises. With so many things to be found, the town a beautiful beacon for people like Bridie and Teagan. The nix had found a faun, and in turn, she discovered that most of everything she wanted or needed was there. With a smile, Teagan pulled Bridie in, eyes closed and foreheads connecting a final time before letting herself fall into night of fun the fae had planned. 

“I’ll teach you.” Teagan nodded, wrapping her hand around Bridie’s wrist to guide it. “We’ll have all the fun together.” Another kiss, and she pulled away, the faun in tow. Another slice, and Teagan chuckled, her heart full. Another fae found, and she was home. 

#wickedswriting #writings #waving words #c: bridie #bridie and teagan #torture tw

[darklordsauron]

Last things about ROP (before the final episode(s))

Not gonna lie, I expected a lot worse. It is still awful in my opinion (because I am a die hard book fan, not a racist or sexist idiot) but, there are some qualities to the show that is not bad.

It is over-dramatic when it should not be. When Arondir was taken to be a slave for the orcs and they try to escape this one elf dies. The show goes into slow motion, the music becomes tragic ect. but we have known this character for a few scenes in two episodes where he barely talks. They had no reason to make this scene so dramatic as I had no feeling towards this character. Whether he died or lived means nothing to me. If they killed Arondir however, I would have been shocked and his death would have added more drama to the show that actually adds weight (character development wise) to the characters.

The amount of clichés in this show is nauseating. Nori, Bronwyn, Arondir and Galadriel are tropes you can find in every fantasy series. Nori- The chosen one who nobody really understands, Bronwyn- The hardworking single mother who cares about everything and everyone while still being stern, Arondir- The stoic warrior who has a soft spot for only one woman and Galadriel- The war hardened warrior who cannot think of anything anymore except revenge but they learn to be more understanding. Tropes that can make anybody yawn in other words. I will not be discussing Bridie Sisson's character as that will just open can of worms.

There are a few characters in this show that gives it their all and they are my favorite. For example Disa and Durin, the best characters. They are energetic and delights to have on screen. I wish we had a show just about them. Adar is so cool and I want him to murder everyone, if they make him Sauron, the witch-king, a nazgul I will have no complaints (I am fairly certain he is just going to be an OC but still, he is just so cool he can be anything). Tar-Miriel has this royal and snobbish attitude I adore as well as Celebrimbor (man may not look the part but he plays a Fëanorian so damn well).

The dialogue in ROP is robotic and sometimes just plain weird. Galadriel's OC brother (why did she need an OC brother in the first place, she has enough already) says this weird quote about rocks and ships and it is supposed to thought provoking but, I was sitting there like- '...huh?!' My friend who actually likes this show even said that that line was stupid. Also, when the humans help Galadriel when she was swimming back to Middle Earth, they call her a liar after she said something that cannot be a lie or the truth. The writing does get better as the show goes on but, the robotic-ness of the dialogue stays.

The VFX and CGI are bloody, drop dead gorgeous. They deserve an award for the set designs/best special effects or something because the locations and sets of this show are masterpieces.

Sadly the same cannot be said for the wardrobes... They suck, the material is cheap and they do not fit the characters in any good way. There is a strange phenomenon with this show; sometimes a character comes out wearing something that actually looks nice and cool but, the rest of the characters wear clothes I believe they found in the darkest vaults of Amazon. I have seen cosplayers with better wardrobes.

The props are competent and some look awesome! I would buy a few of these and hang them up on my wall because they are beautiful to say the least.

This show did not meet my bad expectations but, it also does not fall into the good category. Perhaps season 2 will bring it some redemption? (Fingers crossed it does).

For fun, here are my top 5 favorite and most hated characters-

Favorite

Disa

Durin

Elrond

Adar

Tar-Miriel or Gil-Galad

Hated

Nori

Arondir

Theo

Bronwyn

Galadriel

That is all I have to say. All in all not a completely bad show but definitely not worthy of Tolkien.

4/10

#the rings of power #lord of the rings #lotr on prime #fuck amazon #amazon series #tolkien #lotr amazon #amazon is a mosquito #rings of power #lotr

[horrorlesbians]

HEL !!! you have such a distinctive presence it's easy to list off the main things associated with you: abigail hobbs, deer, michigan lakes, ethel cain, etc. so im gonna get more specific <3

breathless cold water in the wintertime, vintage dolls in delicate dresses, dog bite by stella bridie, antler-scratches on tree bark, congealed blood on floorboards, just-fired shotgun smoke, the pale self-consciousness of young girls, love is dead and we killed her (2019), beautiful clothes bloodied & muddied & torn.

MAJ my beloved!!!! you are so correct! I'm also very happy i have a strong visual presence that others can notice bc many of those elements are elements within my film ideas. if i could just conjure all of those visual elements into a film it would slap so hard

TELL ME WHAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH ME

#written in blood #im real behind on these sorry !

[brookston]

Holidays 7.23

Holidays

Apolinario Mabini Day (Philippines)

Asian Corpsetwt Day [Every 23rd]

Body Painting Day (New York)

Children’s Day (Indonesia, Vanuatu)

Construction Day (Quebec)

Gorgeous Grandma Day

Guanacaste Day (Costa Rica)

Guayaquil Day (Ecuador)

Historic County Flags Day (UK)

Hot and Bothered Day

Hot Enough For Ya Day

International Hello My Name Is Day

International My Chemical Romance Day

International Yada, Yada, Yada Day

Mayan Sun Festival

Mayhem New Year

Mosquito Day

National Broadcasting Day (India)

National Care for Your Coworker Day

National Dachshund Day

National Russell Day

National Women Touched by Addiction Day

Private Eye Day

Ram Day (French Republic)

Remembrance Day (Papua New Guinea)

Renaissance Day (Oman)

Revolution Day (Egypt)

Simón Bolívar Day (Venezuela)

Soma No Umadi (Wild Horse Chasing; Japan)

Sumarauki (Iceland)

World Castleman Disease Day

World Sjögren's Day

World Whale and Dolphin Day

Yada, Yada, Yada Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Dessert First Day

National Spongecake Day

National Sprout Day

Peanut Butter and Chocolate Day

Sprinkle Day

Vanilla Ice Cream Day

4th Sunday in July

Auntie's Day [4th Sunday]

International Bog Day [4th Sunday]

National Parents' Day [4th Sunday]

Open Farm Day (Maine) [4th Sunday]

Pisco Day (Peru) [4th Sunday]

Tsushima Tennoo Matsuri (津島天王祭り; Shōjō Festival, Japan) [4th Sunday]

World Day for Grandparents and the Elderly [4th Sunday]

Independence Days

Abkhazia (Declared from USSR, 1992) [partially recognized]

Feast Days

Apollinaris (Christian; Saint)

Beachball (Muppetism)

Bridget of Sweden (Christian; Saint)

Ezekiel (Christian; Prophet)

Feast of Sulis (Goddess of Mineral Springs)

Francesco Granacci (Artology)

Free Hugs Day (Pastafarian)

Groucho Marx Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Haile Selassie Day (Rastafarian)

Heiromartyr Phocas (Eastern Orthodox)

John Cassian (Western Christianity; Saint)

Leonardo Da Vinci (Positivist; Saint)

Liborius of Le Mans (Christian; Saint)

Margarita María (Christian; Saint)

Mercè Prat i Prat (Christian; Saint)

Neptunalia (Old Roman festival honoring Neptune)

Philipp Otto Runge (Artology)

Phocas the Gardener (Christian; Saint)

Rasyphus and Ravennus (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

Batman: The Killing Joke (WB Animated Film; 2016)

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (Film; 1982)

Bosko at the Beach (WB LT Cartoon; 1932)

The Bourne Supremacy (Film; 2004)

Boneheads (Film; 1993)

Catwoman (Film 2004)

Cinderella Meets Fella (WB LT Cartoon; 1938)

Cold As Ice, by Foreigner (Song; 1977)

Boneheads (Film; 1993)

Double or Mutton (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Drop Dead Gorgeous (Film; 1999)

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (Film; 1941)

How Green Was My Valley, by Richard Llewellyn (Novel; 1939)

Inspector Gadget (Film; 1999)

Ramona and Beezus (Film; 2010)

Salt (Film; 2010)

Scooby-Doo! Adventures: The Mystery Map (WB Animated Film; 2013)

Sexus, by Henry Miller (Novel; 1949) [Rosy Crucifixion #1]

Sleigh Bells (Disney Cartoon; 1928)

Springtime for Pluto (Disney Cartoon; 1944)

Tidal, by Fiona Apple (Album; 1996)

The World According to Garp (Film; 1982)

Today’s Name Days

Birgit, Birgitta, Brigita, Liborius (Austria)

Apolinar, Brigita, Ezekijel (Croatia)

Libor (Czech Republic)

Apollinaris (Denmark)

Saida, Seida, Senta, Siina (Estonia)

Oili, Olga (Finland)

Brigitte (France)

Birgitta (Germany)

Lenke (Hungary)

Apollinare, Brigida (Italy)

Ada, Madala, Magda, Magone (Latvia)

Apolinaras, Brigita, Gilmina, Tarvilas (Lithuania)

Brit, Brita, Britt (Norway)

Apolinary, Bogna, Żelisław (Poland)

Oľga (Slovakia)

Brígida (Spain)

Emma (Sweden)

Apollinary (Ukraine)

Bridget, Bridgett, Bridgette, Bridie, Brigette, Brigid, Brigitta, Brigitte, Romeo (Universal)

Roma, Roman, Romaine, Romana, Romelia, Romeo, Romina, Seymour (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 204 of 2024; 161 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 29 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Tinne (Holly) [Day 14 of 28]

Chinese: Month 6 (Ji-Wei), Day 6 (Ren-Wu)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 5 Av 5783

Islamic: 5 Muharram 1445

J Cal: 24 Lux; Threesday [24 of 30]

Julian: 10 July 2023

Moon: 28%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 8 Dante (8th Month) [Leonardo Da Vinci]

Runic Half Month: Ur (Primal Strength) [Day 10 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 33 of 94)

Zodiac: Leo (Day 2 of 31)

#calendar #Holidays

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 7.23

Holidays

Apolinario Mabini Day (Philippines)

Asian Corpsetwt Day [Every 23rd]

Body Painting Day (New York)

Children’s Day (Indonesia, Vanuatu)

Construction Day (Quebec)

Gorgeous Grandma Day

Guanacaste Day (Costa Rica)

Guayaquil Day (Ecuador)

Historic County Flags Day (UK)

Hot and Bothered Day

Hot Enough For Ya Day

International Hello My Name Is Day

International My Chemical Romance Day

International Yada, Yada, Yada Day

Mayan Sun Festival

Mayhem New Year

Mosquito Day

National Broadcasting Day (India)

National Care for Your Coworker Day

National Dachshund Day

National Russell Day

National Women Touched by Addiction Day

Private Eye Day

Ram Day (French Republic)

Remembrance Day (Papua New Guinea)

Renaissance Day (Oman)

Revolution Day (Egypt)

Simón Bolívar Day (Venezuela)

Soma No Umadi (Wild Horse Chasing; Japan)

Sumarauki (Iceland)

World Castleman Disease Day

World Sjögren's Day

World Whale and Dolphin Day

Yada, Yada, Yada Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Dessert First Day

National Spongecake Day

National Sprout Day

Peanut Butter and Chocolate Day

Sprinkle Day

Vanilla Ice Cream Day

4th Sunday in July

Auntie's Day [4th Sunday]

International Bog Day [4th Sunday]

National Parents' Day [4th Sunday]

Open Farm Day (Maine) [4th Sunday]

Pisco Day (Peru) [4th Sunday]

Tsushima Tennoo Matsuri (津島天王祭り; Shōjō Festival, Japan) [4th Sunday]

World Day for Grandparents and the Elderly [4th Sunday]

Independence Days

Abkhazia (Declared from USSR, 1992) [partially recognized]

Feast Days

Apollinaris (Christian; Saint)

Beachball (Muppetism)

Bridget of Sweden (Christian; Saint)

Ezekiel (Christian; Prophet)

Feast of Sulis (Goddess of Mineral Springs)

Francesco Granacci (Artology)

Free Hugs Day (Pastafarian)

Groucho Marx Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Haile Selassie Day (Rastafarian)

Heiromartyr Phocas (Eastern Orthodox)

John Cassian (Western Christianity; Saint)

Leonardo Da Vinci (Positivist; Saint)

Liborius of Le Mans (Christian; Saint)

Margarita María (Christian; Saint)

Mercè Prat i Prat (Christian; Saint)

Neptunalia (Old Roman festival honoring Neptune)

Philipp Otto Runge (Artology)

Phocas the Gardener (Christian; Saint)

Rasyphus and Ravennus (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

Batman: The Killing Joke (WB Animated Film; 2016)

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (Film; 1982)

Bosko at the Beach (WB LT Cartoon; 1932)

The Bourne Supremacy (Film; 2004)

Boneheads (Film; 1993)

Catwoman (Film 2004)

Cinderella Meets Fella (WB LT Cartoon; 1938)

Cold As Ice, by Foreigner (Song; 1977)

Boneheads (Film; 1993)

Double or Mutton (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Drop Dead Gorgeous (Film; 1999)

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (Film; 1941)

How Green Was My Valley, by Richard Llewellyn (Novel; 1939)

Inspector Gadget (Film; 1999)

Ramona and Beezus (Film; 2010)

Salt (Film; 2010)

Scooby-Doo! Adventures: The Mystery Map (WB Animated Film; 2013)

Sexus, by Henry Miller (Novel; 1949) [Rosy Crucifixion #1]

Sleigh Bells (Disney Cartoon; 1928)

Springtime for Pluto (Disney Cartoon; 1944)

Tidal, by Fiona Apple (Album; 1996)

The World According to Garp (Film; 1982)

Today’s Name Days

Birgit, Birgitta, Brigita, Liborius (Austria)

Apolinar, Brigita, Ezekijel (Croatia)

Libor (Czech Republic)

Apollinaris (Denmark)

Saida, Seida, Senta, Siina (Estonia)

Oili, Olga (Finland)

Brigitte (France)

Birgitta (Germany)

Lenke (Hungary)

Apollinare, Brigida (Italy)

Ada, Madala, Magda, Magone (Latvia)

Apolinaras, Brigita, Gilmina, Tarvilas (Lithuania)

Brit, Brita, Britt (Norway)

Apolinary, Bogna, Żelisław (Poland)

Oľga (Slovakia)

Brígida (Spain)

Emma (Sweden)

Apollinary (Ukraine)

Bridget, Bridgett, Bridgette, Bridie, Brigette, Brigid, Brigitta, Brigitte, Romeo (Universal)

Roma, Roman, Romaine, Romana, Romelia, Romeo, Romina, Seymour (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 204 of 2024; 161 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 29 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Tinne (Holly) [Day 14 of 28]

Chinese: Month 6 (Ji-Wei), Day 6 (Ren-Wu)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 5 Av 5783

Islamic: 5 Muharram 1445

J Cal: 24 Lux; Threesday [24 of 30]

Julian: 10 July 2023

Moon: 28%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 8 Dante (8th Month) [Leonardo Da Vinci]

Runic Half Month: Ur (Primal Strength) [Day 10 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 33 of 94)

Zodiac: Leo (Day 2 of 31)

#Holidays

[marjaystuff]

Rhys Bowen and Clare Broyles Interview by Elise Cooper

Molly always thought that she and her husband Daniel had a good marriage, which was a true partnership.  But things seem to unravel when he comes home to tell her they are moving from their modest home in Patchin Place to a fancy home on Fifth Avenue. He has decided to run for sheriff of New York on the Tammany Hall ticket. She cannot understand this change in Daniel since he has had a long opposition to the Tammany record of corruption.  Now she must deal with bodyguards, servants, and her bills paid for by Tammany boss, William “Big Bill” McCormick.  

As with most of the books there is a glimpse into the society of the times.  Their ward, Bridie, has been attending a wealthy private school, paid for by Molly’s friends Sid and Gus.  She is being picked on for being poor and smart.  That is until she helps to rescue Blanche McCormick, Big Bill’s daughter, from a fire aboard a tour boat.  Afterward Bridie and Blanche become BBFs.  

The mystery also involves the killing of Big Bill, found dead in a locked room.  Everyone is wondering if the real-life William Randolph Hearst had something to do with it since his investigative reporter of Tammany Hall has disappeared.  Now Molly and Daniel must go undercover to investigate and find the killer.

The characters added to the intriguing story. It alerts readers to the ever-changing times and the realism makes for an insightful plot.

Elise Cooper: What was it like working as a mother/daughter team?

Rhys Bowen: I had put the Molly Murphy series on hiatus because I simply did not have the time to write three books a year.  I knew Clare was a very good writer and since she wanted to give it a go, I said ‘let’s give it a try.’ She read through the whole series, seventeen books, and was able to find Molly’s voice perfectly. It has been seamless. At the end no one could tell who wrote what.  In the third book, Clare wrote the end of the book by herself.   

Clare Broyles:  Writing with my mom is fun.  We spark each other as we come up with ideas. As a mystery writer I had to consider how Molly could solve the crime in a clever way. I get to write a scene and have this amazing author, my mom, read the scene. 

RB:  We chat with each other every evening, making writing not a solitary profession. We can create together more and exciting scenes.

EC:  How did you get the idea for the story?

CB:  We wanted to do something with a wealthy Fifth Avenue story. Every single day the book takes place I read the New York Times for that day. One story had a mail bag ripped open and the mail flew everywhere.  I thought, what if a letter contained important information that someone else got a hold of.  I also read how a pleasure cruise caught fire on the Hudson. Finally, there were some stories of how Tammany Hall sparred with William Randolph Hearst who joined with the Republicans in attempting to win the Mayorship of New York. From there we decided to make a wealthy school friend of Bridie, the soon-to-be adopted daughter of Molly, a daughter of a Tammany Hall official. 

EC:  You set up the characters before the mystery comes into play?

RB:  In the Rhys Bowen books a body is not usually found before page 100.  I tend to bring my characters together, allow the readers to watch them interact, and then someone is killed. We very rarely have a body early in the book.  There is a mystery in the beginning since Molly cannot believe that her husband Daniel accepted a job with Tammany Hall without consulting her. Molly always will have a personal life.

EC:  Molly is not thrilled with Daniel over his unilateral decisions?

CB:  Molly likes to do things herself.  She is proud of keeping her house and raising her child.  She never looked for an easier life.  She feels out of place having to move to Fifth Avenue in a house Tammany Hall has given Daniel. It is her Irish background where she feels out of place with the gentry.  She is not very good at giving orders to servants. She enjoys raising her child and being with him. 

RB:  As a husband of the time, he is remarkably understanding. A husband of the time could say he does not want Molly doing detective work, beat her, and a woman had no claim on the property or the children.  A wife was really another possession. He is scared for her because she does take risks.  In the beginning, he asks Molly to trust him. There is a lot of Feminism in the Molly books.

EC:  What role does the Tammany Hall official ‘Big Bill ‘play in the book?

CB:  He represents several different bosses in New York and New Jersey.  They wanted to control the docks. I read of an official who had a two-sided desk, sliding it out so a person could put their bribe in it. The book is really about the relationship between him and his family with Molly, Daniel, and Bridie. Big Bill is overwhelming, charming, someone who likes to have his way, evil, corrupt, yet helps the downtrodden. 

EC:  What was the role of the Fifth Avenue house versus the house on Patchin Place?

CB:  Having to move destabilized Molly and threw her off balance. She did not know how she was going to pay the servants. 

RB:  Molly could not wait to get back to Patchin Place especially since her neighbors and friends were across the street and her support group. She knows the rules there.  She is much more comfortable in her own home.

EC:  What about Big Bill’s wife, Lucy McCormick?

RB:  She is a complete antithesis to her husband. He is the rough Irishman without refined manners who has learned how to manipulate, a classic mob boss.  He married her for her money and position in society. She is a very loving mother, kind, and caring. She is not a snob and wanted to be friends with Molly.  

CB:  She is a kindred spirit with Molly. She also feels a bit trapped in her life, not really wanting to be involved in politics. 

EC:  Bridie’s friend, Blanche transformed?

RB:  She transformed from a mean girl to a good friend.  She represented a typical teenage girl. After being rescued by Molly and Bridie she realized they were good caring people.  But she is obviously very spoiled.  Girls at that age are a prowling pack and enjoy picking on someone different.  Bridie is not like them since she is poorer than them and very bright. She made a judgement and saw how Bridie is supported by her family. 

EC:  What about the forensics?

CB:  Before I came into the series Daniel was a big proponent of fingerprints.  It is a new science at the time the book takes place. It is not admissible in court yet, but still can be useful to find the preparator. 

RB:  Autopsies had been done for a while.  We are getting into the very beginnings of blood types and blood spatter, just around the corner. They are starting to get the scientific evidence to back up the “who done it.” This is one of the reasons I like writing these times, because the detective still must use their smarts. 

EC:  Next books?

RB:  The secondary characters in this book will have a break in the next Molly book.  It is summertime in New York, where school is not in session.

CB:  Bridie is devasted that Blanche has gone to France for the summer. The family visits Daniel’s mom, Mrs. Sullivan.  Molly is being driven crazy, so she gladly accepts an invitation to go to the Catskills with Sid and Gus. Three different communities are brought together:  Sid and Gus are part of an artist’s colony, there is a new ranger there since the Catskills are now a state park, and in the bungalows are a fledgling Jewish colony. The murder has to do with a matchmaker.

RB:  My historical novel is titled The Paris Assignment, published in August, even though the main action takes place outside Paris, ending up in Australia in the 1940s.  There are two parallel stories going on in the book.  The heroine acts as a courier for the allies.  It was not an easy one to write because it tugs on readers’ heartstrings.

THANK YOU!!

[bakuninspadawan]

Birdie

Thanks to moments like this one, I adore Divinity: Original Sin 2: in the creepy magister's castle full of gore and decomposing body parts you come across a dog. His name is Birdie. If some of your characters have the petpal trait, you can chat with him and learn Bridie’s tragic story: he was captured by the magisters and is now on his way to transforming into a sourcehound, which will hunt and kill sorcerers. Birdie asks you to put it out of his misery. It is important to understand, that you can't cure Birdie, but you can persuade him to stay alive. Whatever you choose, this moment can break your heart.

Larian studios, you are brilliant storytellers!

#divinity original sin 2 #dos2 #larian studios #crpgs

[sebsxphia]

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPYYYYY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!! MY DARLING!! MY DEAR SEB!!!!

I hope you had an amazing birthday full of fancy drinks and celebrating youuuu <3 <3

You are such an incredible human and I am so so sooo very thankful for you. I cannot begin to say how much you mean to me and how thankful I am for your friendship. each message means the absolute world and always brightens my day. I also am so very proud of you for all that you've been working to overcome and all of the work you have done so far <3 thank you always having me yearning and being soft but also killing me with your INSANE thots.

You are an absolute gem and so dear to me <3 <3

WIth ALL of my love (and more)

-your bridie (@sandbarbirdie)

@sandbarbirdie MY BELOVED, MY BELOVED BIRDIE, MY WIFE, MY DARLING!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

thank you so, so much for your birthday and sweet wishes!! i had an amazing birthday and i like to think i was celebrated :’)

but again, thank you so, so much for your incredible words. i cannot even begin to tell you how much they mean to me and how grateful i am that we became friends and i’m so thankful for you and your friendship.

each lil message filled with support and love from you brightens my day and i always know i’m safe with you. thank you for your incredible pieces of writing and ideas you send me. i will forever be in awe of how you can break my heart and repair it with softness in five seconds 🥹

please remember you are so dear to me and i’m sending you ALL the love in the universe, mwah mwah mwah!! <33 <33 <33

#💌you’ve got mail #sandbarbirdie <333 #💐 these are for you!! <33

[insideusnet]

Police: Brazil School Shooter Wore Swastika, Planned Attack : Inside US

Police: Brazil School Shooter Wore Swastika, Planned Attack : Inside US

By CARLA BRIDI, Associated Press BRASILIA, Brazil (AP) — A former student armed with a semiautomatic pistol and a revolver who killed four people and wounded 12 in two schools in Brazil had a swastika pinned to his vest and had been planning the attacks for two years, police said. The shootings took place Friday at a public school with elementary and middle school students and a private school,…

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