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Amos, what do you hate the most right now?

children.

#**#answered #displeased with his child rn #and always #someone take it back

bikerwolfchip:

Blow up my inbox.

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Fuck, kill or marry

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Anything you want!

#**

disastramus:

status: open | @calamitousstarters location: myre grove, in front of the three doors

the wind blew gently across the flower petals, the white fabric of her dress pressing against her body, highlighting the physique of the fae as she stood within the grass. leaning against one of the beautiful, thick trees of myre grove, she watched all the halloween creatures come into her territory and put their stink all over it.

witches, and werewolves, and mermaids, and vampires. dressing up as each other and more – they all looked ridiculous. the fae had no need to dress up, only sporting her ethereal, white wings and gown as she watched people ponder the three doors.

“don’t think too quickly.” she said coyly. her eyes looking bored as she flicked light dust off her nails. “you have no idea what we’ve planned for you inside.”

amos was a showman. a cabaretier. master of ceremonies. he could do a great show anytime, anywhere. he didn’t need a stage, nor props - only puppets he could toy around and entertain an audience with. and this - tonght, was his scene. it was just another opportunity to torture and play with. he had a top hat on, and a bow tie wrapped around his neck - he looked the part, as well as he played it.

he was quick to appear beside the other fae; posing as her theatrical partner; a wicked grin crossing his features; his dark brown eyes glowing with anticipation and excitiment.

“come on llittle fishy - what’s your luck gonna be? try it out - you’ll never know if you never try.” he urged the male to go through one of the doors.

“tick tock, baby, or we’ll have to throw you into one.” his words were followed by a wink.

#c: celeste

juliet-briggs:

Seeing Jasmine rapidly blink awake as she nodded forward for the fifth time this night warmed Juliet’s heart. The girl protested going to bed, insisting bedtime far from the current hour. Indulging in her whims just this once, Juliet watched the animated characters singing about some problem or another on screen. Her attention turned from the television to the door, spying Amos returning from his outing. Pulling the blanket around Jasmine, Juliet promised to be back in a moment, sneaking from the couch to the next room.

“She reminds me of you.” Her voice low enough to not carry over the volume of the movie as her eyes remained on her charge a single moment more. “How did it go?” Amos hadn’t needed to tell Juliet what errand demanded his attention. As nervous as she often was around children, Jasmine proved to be nothing short of a little angel contrary to her father’s complaints.

@pcisonwine

she could always feel him; whenever he was near. call it a fae thing, or a father/daughter bond, or a fucking mystery for all he cared. they couldn’t deny their connection; but he could certainly regret it. she was far better off without him; he would never say otherwise. and soon - once older, she would figure that out too. she would come to realize he would always fuck it up; he could never be anything more than a fuck up in her eyes. but she was just a child now - there was nothing he could do to make her hate him; she still saw glimpses of light, moments where he would tuck her in at night, transform a bad dream into a fairytale and she would forgive him all.

forgive all of him. for being simply him. because amos didn’t know how to be anything else.

“and here i thought i was one of a fucking kind, juju.” he shook his head; a signature spark of mischief evident within his hues; one he wore too well.

he had his feet up on one of the stools; a lazy arm drapped around the edge of the sofa they were sat at; head laid back.. “fucker got away; one of them. the other’s dead - obviously. i had to send a message.” he carried on, “fucking brave stealing from me, and living another day to tell the damn story.” he wasn’t too mad. he knew sooner or later he’d finish them all. nobody could get away from him.

#c: juliet

@oftragxdy amos x jasper

jasper could send his cryptic messages all he wanted, but amos was already on his trail, and the redhead knew better than to throw a rabid dog a bone and then take it from its teeth.

text: i’m omw little piggy text: and i’ll huff and puff down your little house text; :***

he dropped his phone back in his pocket and made his way to jasper’s house. unfortunately there was no one there - just his goddamn luck. or lack there of. at this point this little chase wasn’t about whatever was stolen from him - it was about winning the game, because there was nothing more amos loved than winning.

text: come out come out little piggy text: you know better than to hide from me now ;))

it was more fun this way, he thought. the thrill of the chase was truly something; it held the power to ignite a flame within that man. next destination he was heading to was the bar jasper loved to go to; where else would a lunatic like him be anyway. it was a pattern he followed - predictable as always. soon enough the chase was over, and dark hues settled on a redhaired head - gotcha, piggy.

but he wasn’t alone; and amos almost tripped on air when he noticed a small girl with him; short, wild dark hair, she was sitting down on a chair, hands wrapped around a glass of whater - he couldn’t quite catch a glimpse of her features, but he would recognize her scent.

“jaz?” he called out; more like the name rolled off his tongue, as if his mouth was numb.

#c: jasper

deathbeckons:

“you having a kid doesn’t mean we’re alike. parenthood is a common thing, amos, it doesn’t make us similar to every other being who has a child.” it was news to her though, that he had a child. perhaps it wasn’t widely known, as she had asked her people for an update on everything that had happened when she arrived back in town. “his trauma is coming from the fact that when he was a child, his mother was kidnapped and couldn’t get back to him for hundreds of years. his trauma isn’t the fact that mommy left as though it’s something that i had a choice in.

aurelia didn’t move back when amos closed in; that would have shown weakness. instead, she stood her ground and simply raised her brow at the man, “is your child in your custody, or are you giving your child daddy issues? and for the record, i’m sure jaspers father has a lot to do with his issues as well.”

she sighed as she looked over the fae, “are you trying to say that you care for my son? that you’re not a bad influence? because from what i’ve heard and witnessed, the exact opposite of that is true.” though did aurelia really have any authority over anything to do with jasper or sammy anymore? they had grown up without her, and they didn’t need her. “imagine you have a relationship with your child, and your step child, and you get taken away. you miss over four-hundred years of their lives, then you come back and realise that you can’t just pick up where you left off. you haven’t been able to protect them from anything, and so you have a lot to catch up on.” what she was trying to say is that she had come back overprotective, and it hadn’t done anything for her relationship with jasper. “my sons, my child, does not need me and the past four hundred years of my life have been focused on getting back for him. you’ll forgive me if i’m not too sure what to do with myself in this situation.”

“but he believes mommy left, doesn’t he? he doesn’t like you very much, otherwise he wouldn’t be running away from you.” he was a fucking bastard for speaking like the picture he was describing wasn’t him and his daughter, as much as it was aurelia and jasper. jasmine hated his guts - he could feel it. that kid was never going to love him, not as much as she loved her mom, not nearly as much as she loved her mom. their relationship was doomed, he made sure of that the second she was born, the second he held her in his arms. doomed. forwsaken. found and lost in the same second.

the answer was no - his child was not in his custudy, hell, he had no idea in whos custudy was jasmine. where the fuck was she anyway? she was taken by a man amos shouldn’t have messed with. she was paying for his mistakes. she was a daughter to a father that should have never be made into one. he was selfish and arrogant; greedy and restless - thats all he knew how to be. being a father was never in the cards for him. being his daughter was a curse she was born with.

“nope - see this is where you’re wrong, mumma - “ he raised his index finger, before taking a long sip of his bottle; and right after that did he make his point. “ my child doesn’t have a daddy. unlike you when i leave - i stay gone.” he spoke with a sly smirk upon his wet lips; he felt like he just invented something of great caliber - like eletricity or something. he felt clever, for coming up with a way to justify his absence. “no daddy - no issues;” his shoulders lifted in a shrug.

“ mommy, daddy, jasper - sounds like a famly dinner i’d love to be at.” he grinned once more. “i was wondering when you were going to invite me over - after all, jaspy and i are best buds.” he was cocky; always playing around, toying, joking - never taking anything too seriously. and jasper - he wasn’t eactly a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. he wasn’t a threat; he was delirious most of the time, and amos enjoyed that - he relished in his inadequate state, but he was useless to him. amos wouldn’t lift a finger to interfere with jasper’s life. he was of absolute no use to him. and so aurelia’s accusations were laughable to him.

was she looking for sympathy? she was speaking to him, as if he would offer some kind of advicе, and the only words he could offer her were going to be disappointing; he was sure. “just leave him the fuck alone - do you really think he needs you? he had it good so far, you won’t change him.” he moved forward; stepping closer to her, and extending out his arm to offer her the bottle of whiskey. “we’re shit parents - get over it.”

#c: Aurelia

“@leapoffaithx amos x rory

it was the hangover that was crushing his brain within his skull that was making him fidget more than usual; amos had little ticks, prone by his pixie addiction, or simply by his lack of patince in absolutely everything. he was an eager man; ready to always go here and there, do this and that, and right now he was still managing a casino he should have burnt to the ground fucking centuries ago. he was already bored and restless; the few humans he still enjoyed messing around with had ran into whevever the humans hid these days; he held no interest for ther new hideaway or their crazy leader. his lucky coin was still in the depths of the unknown and his daughter - she still hated his guts.

where the fuck was jasper when he needed an old toy to chew on? he was like a dog; already ready to bite at someone’s neck; lash out and entertain himself; because thats what he did best - he liked to take,take,take.

and right now his half lidded eyes were piercing a potential new target.

he could recall seeing the guy before; maybe at the casino, or maybe somewhere else; he could destinguish his features; even in his painfully sober state; with his mind turned into a smoothie, he could recall bumping into him - his mind could be playing tricks on him, or the truth slipped through his fingers like sand; truth did not belong anywhere near him, even if he was unable to lie. faes and always telling the truth; yet somehow amos always kept his tongue moving between the lines.

“who the fuck’s that?” he nudged a guard that stood near him, before pointing at the brunette. the older man furrowed his brows and gave now certain answer. amos only gave him permission to go fetch the guy, and the man obliged. two guard made their way to rory, and stood by both his sides - they were double his size, both in hight and weight. they could pick him right up and throw him all the way across the large room like a ball. they took him by the arms and carried him to the other fae, before dropping him on his feet before the male.

#c rory

nicholasxturner:

Could be walking through, smoking or injured etc

The bar was getting pretty quiet now so Nick decided to sneak out back for five minutes for some fresh air, grabbing a barely half full bag of trash on the way. Pushing the door open and heading into the dark alley, the retired tracker was hit by the scent of someone else and he tried hard to ignore it at first. He wasn’t completely oblivious and knew what was happening lately but the idea of dealing with an actual situation he couldn’t smooth talk his way out of was something he’d been trying his hardest to avoid since he gave that life up. But his feet were moving, heading in the direction of the dumpster and the other persons scent he couldn’t help but be pulled towards. “Please be a racoon!” He says a little too loud.

@calamitousstarters

a deal gone badly. unusual for him, or was it usual these days, especially with his lucky toy gone. must be his bad luck chasing him around, tugging the carpet from beneath his feet, pulling the chair just before he sat down. he was turning into a joke; a clown. the faes never took him seriously anyway, but this - now, this was worse. he was vulnerable, left like easy pray in their hands. a fucking lamb. a toy.

fuck the high council.

he’d do it literally too. he probably had already; if he only could remember; not that any of this was important infomation enough to remember, but his focus was one of a fly. and that usually got him in trouble, along with a few other characteristics. who has the fucking time to sit down and digest it all, anyway? the world flickers in hues of blue, and purple, and who has the concentration to...fuck, is that a giant, pink, neon sign calling his name in a robotic whisper of the best drinks, the best girls, girls, girls....but his mind was a whirlwind, always moving, never staying one place for too long, just as one thing catches his eye, another pulls him by the ear and now his focus was on a guy by a dumpster; and he grinned, like the cheshire cat he was.

“not a racoon. i’m something way better, buddy.” and way higher. but that part did not need voicing, it was plenty of obvious - he was certain.

“wanna see a magic trick?”

#c: nick

vixlentmxxn:

who: Open @calamitousstarters Where: Equinox Festival

Very little drew his attention anymore. At least, in the manner of large gatherings went, he hated them. Despite this, there he was, stood at a booth that offered the most odd-ball trinkets he’d ever seen. There was a hand-made doll that looked more like it belonged in a voodoo ritual than anything else, and some half-arsed strung together bit of - was it a kite? Who the fuck knew. At the moment, he held the most normal looking object in his palm, a small bound leather notebook. Though it had roughly etched symbols that meant jack all, he was sure that someone would be gullible enough to purchase it despite its utter lack of protection - the pellar there had attempted to tell him that it was meant to erase itself after use and he just stared, deadpan, at the man. “You - you’re fucking kidding me, right?” He knew the man wasn’t a witch in the slightest, and was surprised the actual witches weren’t ripping him to shreds, “you expect me to actually believe that horseshit? What are you even asking for it?” He tossed it back on the table and fished out his cigarettes, turning to walk away when a voice interrupted his strut - “what’s that?”

naturally amos wouldn’t be caught dead in a shithole like onyx peak and the crazy witchy shananigans happening there, however his lucky coin has been missing for more than a few months, and since the hunt for the witch that has made said lucky coin had hit a dead end, there wasn’t a better place to find another one than a booth at a witchy festival at onyx peak. fuck, this was ridiculous. trinkets, and gadgets, and weird, crystal balls, and not a sign of a magical object that could bring him eternal luck.

“the fuck is this? he picked up a small, pink, crystal ball and observed it with a puzzled look; brows raised high, nose wrinkled. the woman behind the counter explained the charm and its characteristics, but he wasn’t even listening. she lost him at the first two words, and he tossed the small ball, nearly cracking the crystal, which caused for the woman to narrow her eyes at him.

amos couldn’t be bothered. “i’m looking for something old and shiny.” he spoke to himself; muttered words under his breath, as he kept picking up and tossing around tiny objects. “i need something to make me lucky again for fucks sake - “ he spoke, louder than expected this time, as he picked up a crystal dice and nearly tossed it at the man next to him, “the fuck do you think thats for?” he observed the dice, as he stood close to the man and expected his opinion on the matter.

#c: ikaros #event: equinox festival

shiverrinqs:

Giselle rolled her eyes, eyes on the tome now as he ranted about sticking to her kind. Of course she knew that already, but Giselle was ever consistently looking at the bigger picture. Looking to garner more knowledge, more information. Because it was power, the best commodity in her opinion. “Maybe that is because you don’t understand it. Knowledge dearie is power. Be cautious, be alert, never give them your absolute trust but always know your ally better then they know themselves.” The echoing of her fathers words. Even after all this time, with him long dead: thanks to the infuriating man that stood half naked before her. It was harder to get away from his training, because at least they in some part: proved to be useful. Goosebumps peppered her skin, as his fingers dragged along her flesh. Still she ignored him. Focusing on the grimoire, ignoring the delicious sensation that only Amos seemed to pull from her as of late.

“ Yes I’m well aware of the magic you like to use my dear. You possesses a great amount of skill,” words drawn and dull as she continued to read. Only for the thick book to be ripped from her grasp. Falling across the room and hitting her wall with a loud Thud: leaving a slight indentation there. A slender hand shot out towards his throat, not applying much pressure, just enough to pull him closer. Her lips just barely brushing against his as she snared at him. “ You won’t be fucking anyone ever, if you toss my things about like that again,” A half truth, he wouldn’t be fucking her at the very least. Or at least not for a while. He was chaos and disorder to her life and try as she might, Giselle didn’t mind it– so long as he didn’t ruin any of her things. At the sound of the door opening, Giselle let her hand fall away; the visage of the child appeared. almost getting caught in a compromising position by the Little One. Sighing she pushed up off the bed. Retrieving her book of the floor as she let a father tend to his daughter. Eyes looked towards the pair as she placed the book away in her drawer. Locking it for the night. He almost seemed normal. A father tending to his child. Who was scared by a bad dream. Had hers ever done that? If he had, Giselle couldn’t remember, so of course that meant it never happened.

Never the less it was a jarring , she would never say aloud but she couldn’t help but soften a little at the sight of it. So opposite to Amos more wild and impulsive nature. The fact that he could be this tender, gave the advisor a peek into the kind of person he could be. The kind of family she had once upon a time coveted for herself. Giselle joined them once more on her bed. Watching in amusement, as the little one came towards her. Cuddling into her side. She raised a brow but let her arm drape around her, holding there for a moment. Her gaze found Amos and she schooled her features; averting her gaze back towards Jasmine. “Go on then darling, paint a new dream. We all could do with a good nights rest.”

he arched a brow at her words; index finger srratching the side of his face by his eyebrow; he expected some kind of a speech like that; an advice he did not need, but she seemed to forget where they were both coming from. she certainly wasn’t quouting his mother. “darling, we’ve both been taught by the same woman. i know everything i need to know about magic, about my magic - “ he was selfish, when it came to absolutely everything. he was selfish, but he wasn’t power hungry - he made the best of what he got, and that was his biggest strenght. “that’s you - it’s not me. for me - there’s not a thing as a fucking ally. use them until they’re absolutely hollow and then smash their skull in and be done with it. “ he spoke; blunt and nonchalant. she knew who he was. she knew he wouldn’t even trust her. he did - on a good day.

“you’re the smart one, giselle. i don’t have to tell you this.”

he allowed for a smirk to cross his features; although he knew that would only poke her in the ribs and provoke her in a way she would think threatning, but to him - it’d be quite the opposite. he loved to wind her up; tease, and nibble, and scratch until she’d have her hands around his neck and scortch herself for not squeezing as hard as she should. and she should squeeze hard, harder until he wasn’t breathing, because that was what he deserved, but everytime her small fingers curled around his throat, his brain turned to mush and he found himself grinning, and she found herself kissing him, instead of killing him. but the two got mixed up; everytime. mixed and switched and it was never one without the other; it was always a kiss that was aiming to kill, a kiss that meant - i should’ve killed you, a kiss that felt like knife jamming into his stomach and twisting at his insides, and he craved that kind of a kiss; her kiss, their kiss. and he leaned in and stole one; just as she warned him about something he didn’t even hear; no words caressed his ears, only her warning tone that he was used to by now - she was always scolding him for dumb shit like that.

he silenced her for a few moments. thank fuck.

but then hs daughter silenced them both. “can giselle be in the pretty dream, daddy?”

who was giselle? what place did she have in the pretty dream? he was quite aware she had been filling a spot for his daughter; with her mother figure missing, he assumed she would cling to giselle, especially since amos wasn’t the best father. he wasn’t a father. he was a monster, he was a man, but god, he wasn’t a father. and giselle was the woman who loved him despite, never because. and the look in jasmine’s eyes took him by surprise. scared him. and he looked at giselle, searching for something familiar in her eyes, somethig familiar like the pattern they know, but he found only acceptance there. his mouth opened, but only a choked exhale came out. his eyes narrowed to the two of them, before he moved closer; his arm wrapped around his daughter, as she rested between the two of them, cuddled more into giselle.

“of course, jas.” he reassued the little girl, as he urged her to close her eyes after that. his illusions went beyond, and they could be as colorful and nice, as they were dark and vicious. he would paint her green fields and blue skyes, and all her favourite candy, and all her favourite games, and he stayed away from ever touching that fantasy with his presence, because everything he touched died or turned to black; every dream he had created for her he was not in. and now, as he projected that within both giselle’s and jasmine’s concious, he created something for the two of them, so it would soothe her, to finally have someone by her side, even if that someone was giselle.

#c: giselle

cagefreeromanroy

they’ll never see us coming

#**#visage

juliet-briggs:

Juliet inhaled, measuring the seconds she exhaled as to not display her displeasure at the sudden interest. Amos did have the awful habit of picking up on the tiniest detail at the most inopportune times. She really should have known that he would not allow her such an easy answer. “There is nothing really to tell.” She’s attended to the business before making her way back to Calamity within a few days of her departure. The only thing that mattered to Juliet was that the entire exchange had been a success. “The happening here are far more interesting.”

Wetting her lips, Juliet pondered just what it was that the other was after. Could one cross their heart when it was as dark as the coat he wore? Would he even feel a poke in that muscle or had it long since ceased to react to feeling? “I would have hoped that the play was at least entertaining, yet you must have stolen the show with such an incredible feat.” She joked, making a note to see if there was word of him actually behaving.

“I am certain that you were indeed robbed. The judges were biased.” The contest could have been already decided long before the guests arrived, but she remained hopeful that not everything was corrupt. There should be some simple pleasures left in the world. “I’ll have to dig through my vanity and find you a ribbon at the very least.”

“there’s always something to tell.” he smirked; and that was especially true when it came to beings who couldn’t lie; much like the woman sitting before him. it surely sucked when he was on the other side, but when he was the one to dig for information - it sure was fucking great. juju couldn’t spill a damn lie, and now was the right time to poke her for some dirt on giselle. after all - it’s been several fucking decades since the last time he saw the woman, and as much as he was disinterested in any council business, he was curious about her role in it. what does she have that they;re still keeping her around? he must have ruined her reputation a long fucking time ago. the bitch had nine lives.

“and what i want to know is a little something-something about another one of your fun council buddies.” and the atmosphere around them shifted a little; even if his tone was still playful and seemingly harmless. he knew how to play around; how to pretend he was only messing around, when he would only sharpen whatever information was giving to him into a weapon.

“call it - a little favor.” he almost mouthed the last word; even the damn chairs had ears around this place. “so, instead of a ribbon, you can do this for me, and - “ a beat, full lips curled into a smirk; dark, handsome features softening, as he leaned closer, “ - i’ll pay you back, the way i know you like.” his gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips, before he backed away and leaned comfortably against the chair once more.

#c: juliet

shiverrinqs:

She hated it. Hated the twinges and tingles firing off as Amos touched her. Delicate bumps, peppering her skin racing towards the warmth he stirred. How Giselle’s heart raced when Amos was in proximity; hated how warm the little one felt in her arms. Mostly, she despised herself for not hating it at all.

What a pretty picture they must make. A visage that– a younger Giselle had wanted. Now, the Advisor’s world revolved around acquiring power. Instead, fortifying herself in a steel cacoon to keep the world out. Betrayal had darkened her heart, devouring any love or warmth that she exuded in her youth. A warmth her father had tried to stamp out but failed. Funny how it was someone she had given her trust and heart to did. For she never trusted her father. Scoffing, she peaked over towards him. “I’m very sure she doesn’t. I think all the pixie has finally gone to your head,” she muttered. Looking down at the sleeping babe. She hated how she hoped she was wrong and that he was right.

But she wasn’t wrong, and hoping for something was a foolish notion.

If you wanted something, you fought for it. Giselle knew this all too well. Hoping was what children did. Even at this moment, when it was the three of them, there were glimmers of hope. That was quickly defeated; As fond as Giselle was of the little one. As much desire, passion, and dare she says even love Amos stirred in her from when they met. They were not hers, and they would never be. She’d gone down this road before. She’d allowed herself to become soft, to love unconditionally. And was met with nothing but contempt, betrayal, and deceit. What had she expected from Fae? This, them it was a fluke; she was sure of it. Better to enjoy it while she could. Ahead of her plans and ambitions took all the space left. Before, Amos would see the error of longing for a creature like her. Silly Amos, tormented, ever the fool, and even knowing this, she had fallen. So maybe she was the fool in all of this.

Giselle welcomed the distraction of these books. I accepted the effort she had to put into trying to understand the working. Her dead husband had hated magic: mostly because he didn’t understand it. Her missing wife, though, was fascinated by witches. Provoking the same kind of thinking in Giselle. How different they were, but how similar some of the rituals and rites were. Similar enough for the two women to ponder over. Spending hours in the dimly-lit room of her chambers. Limps tangled in silken sheets. Whispered words and theories exchanged as they pursued a knowledge not meant for them to understand. But when creatures such as Fae coveted something, there was no stopping them.

“Then you’re a fool; you should care.” she glanced over towards him now. Eyebrow raised, spotting him in her robe, but she said nothing of it. “Witches are probably the only creatures more powerful than we; to know them is to know a potential enemy or ally. I know you like to run headfirst into a situation, but research and planning is your friend, darling.” she teased even as her eyes were back on the pages of text and rune work.

Ignoring his dramatics. At this point it she expected nothing less from him. “You must have me confused with those pets you order about at the Casino. ” Giselle stood book in hand, making her way to the edge of the bed, “– but I’ll make sure to bury you by my favorite tree. Your body should make excellent fodder. Now, if you’re done being a smart ass, come over here and learn something. Or don’t; either way, I’ll be enjoying myself, dearie.”

he scoffed; like only a child would, like only amos would - it was ridiculous; he wouldn’t care about no witches, he only cared about himself, plus a few, selected ones that he could potentially save from death - if he was in the mood for it. “ stick to your kind, darling. you wanna make witches your allies now? i don’t trust their mojo and their stinky looking potions. i’m never drinking anything around them.” he shook his head - in absolute all seriosness. of course, he did fail to mention that once, there was a witch that was his ally; a witch that had been kind to him, that had faught side by side with him. he was familiar with their magic, even if he cared none for it now. their magic, her magic, created something special for him; something sacret for him. he was well aware how powerful witches magic could be, but that didn’t mean there were no fools. still human, still warm and heartful and naive and goddamn fucking dead. she should be dead, after all this time - she couldn’t have survived this long.

he slowly changed into his shorts; his upper frame remaining exposed for the time being; he was more comfortable this way, besides he believed the sight of him half naked would win anytime against the sight of some witchy scribbles on a piece of paper. “and what makes you think i don’t already know a thing or two about magic?” he approached her slowly; fingers digging into the pocket of his shorts for his chip; the tiny object flipped between his fingers swiftly, and quick, he was skilled in the art, like a magician would; and in a way he believed himself to be one. once close enough, he leaned over her frame; one hand taking the book from hers hold and throwing it across the room, “so you were like that annoying kid in class that’s always asking questions and being the teacher’s pet, huh? am i fucking the nerd?” he snickered.

he was just about to take things up a notch; one hand already sliding down her frame, searching for a tiny bit of explosed flesh he could tease and bite, but he could hear tiny steps approaching and then the door cracked open slightly and a pair of two bare feet and worried face appeared at the door; he knew that look; whenever he dragged her around to giselle’s, or his siblings or zahara’s; she’d have a nightmare, usually call for him to tell her a story, something crazy and unheared; magical and filled with color and adventure. she had trouble falling asleep anywhere else but her own bed. “did you have a bad dream?” he asked, as he put some distance between him and giselle and focused his attention solely on his daughter. she nodded her head and reached out for him; actually, he wasn’t sure if she reached out to him, or giselle; he was convinced she liked her way more than he liked him and his brain refused to accept otherwise. nevertheless, he kneeled down to take her in his arms and pick her up; tiny arms wrapping around his neck; her big brown eyes looking over at giselle, “daddy’s going to paint you a new dream, darling.” he spoke to her soothingly, as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

for once he wasn’t concerned if giselle would use this as a weapon; sharpen his words, his vulnerability into a blade to use against him; pick a favourite place to slice. if there’s one place his daughter would feel safe it was with her; she would much rather be with her, than with him. expected, understood - he wasn’t going to fight for the opposite. and if he wasn’t around, he could trust giselle - despite it all - to take care of her.

#c: giselle #past thread

deathbeckons:

“you’ve sorely misunderstood if you think i was asking you to do anything for me, amos.” the female scoffed, looking over the other without being able to hide her blatant disgust at the suggestion. “i’m not asking you to stalk jasper, i’m asking the opposite. as far as i can tell, as far as i’ve learned you make him worse by supplying him, or at the very least encouraging him. it’s known you’re a trouble maker; one who thinks he owns the place because of the casino.”

aurelia watched as he picked up the bottle, heading for intoxication again it seemed. was he ever sober? “and i wonder what’s having that effect on him? couldn’t be the pixie that he seems to be constantly supplied with? drugs on top of any trauma is not a good idea.” she really needed to speak to giselle and get something actioned for the banning of pixie in myre grove - it was bringing the place down.

“it doesn’t seem like you really give a shit about anything, amos. as long as you’re benefitting, what’s to care about, right?”

he instantly raised his index finger in order to interupt her and cut in a few pieces of information she seemed to be missing, “nuh huh - at the play you asked me to fire crazy gingerbread man, and last i checked that still counts as asking, because it was, indeed, you asking me.” he grinned; in a cheeky way, of course. he was quite good at being cheeky, and he was especially good at annoying the woman like no other.

he let her finish then; his mouth instantly wrapping around the opening of the bottle; taking a few sips; dark eyes staying on hers. she seemed to think he was the only drug supplier in this place; jasper was pretty calable of supplying himself, he didn’t need amos to do that for him. hell, amos wouldn’t even share his best drugs with the other male - he was a greedy man.

“and where is his trauma coming from?” he jumped off the bar, slow, steady steps being taken in her direction; bottle still in hand, pointing at her with the top of it. “ seems to me that little jaspy has mommy issues.” his lips curled into a smirk; he loved it when he was right, and he was - right, she could deny it all she wanted. wouldn’t make a difference.

“i do give a shit - i have a kid, you know. “ fuck, he did care about the damn kid. she was better off without him, just as he was better off without her. “see? not so different after all - me and you.”