pietist

22 / m / mafia

[pietxst]

@generaticn 

Arthur disliked missions ever since he had become the leader of the mafia he had served for a majority of his life. Not to say that it was always this way, since he was young at one point of his life, and the thrill of a mission had always been enough to get his blood to a pleasant roar. 

But becoming leader meant having ties to his time, and spending that time out and about doing things he could easily assign to another member who needed the experience more than he did was unpleasant, least to say.

The only reason why he was here... Well, Arthur had his eyes on him. 

“This is your first mission, is it not ? At least, one with a real danger tied to it.” Arthur spoke casually, trying to bring a certain levity to the situation. Not that he was any good at doing that, normally, but he had to give it a try for the kid. “Don’t worry, however, since you are surrounded by capable heads. Just try to learn from the others.”

[pietxst]

fakefairfolk:

>Tfw scotch is a whisky

Scotch whisky is the best whisky, but he was not going to be picky about where the whisky came from. Arlo admired the decorations of Arthur’s house, or lack thereof, and found his way into the living room.

He listened to Arthur’s suggestion and took a place at the loveseat, and rest his arms on his knees and his head in his hands. “So… What’s up?”

>tfw it isn’t tbh

Arthur sighed inwardly, He wasn’t looking forward to what may ensue.

“Nothing is up, really. Just wanted to speak with you on the matter of your promotion.” Arthur began simply and bluntly. He had danced around the subject enough, and it was uncharacteristic of him enough to do that and invite Arlo to his house. 

“Do you think you will be... fine, in your position ?”

[pietxst]

countfrancula:

“Well of course I am!” Francis said, brimming with a sense of contentment at Arthur’s returned kiss. “I make it my goal to flatter you as often as possible~” It was a bit odd, changing from a lifestyle in which Francis tried to flatter as many as possible to only wishing to flatter one man, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Seeing Arthur smile and blush at his compliments was well worth all those years concealing his feelings.

“Oh, I’ve been doing just fine. Matthew… well, I’m worried about him, but he is an adult. He will handle his problems just fine, I think. And I’m there to help him whenever he needs it.”

As much as Francis was worried for his cousin though, now didn’t seem to the time to focus too much on him. He’d only become stressed again. “And you, mon ami? I hope you have not been working too hard during the holidays.”

Arthur hummed, before sighing slightly. “I see. Well, I can’t help but worry since... I’m his boss.” Arthur ended that statement with a small huff of sardonic amusement. Wasn’t much to back his worry, but he had always been a bit too emotional to be the paradigm of “mafia leadership.” To each their own, he supposed, particularly thinking back to the previous leaders.

“But I guess you do have a point, I will simply keep an eye on him, for now. And I’ve just been finishing up and tying up loose ends... Nothing too strenuous, at least not for me.” Arthur had to feel his chest warm at the aspect of Francis worrying about his workload. Something just felt so mundane about the fact... And Arthur didn’t get a lot of mundane. But quick to get to his gift, he shifted to reach behind his desk to check his package.

“I shouldn’t leave you waiting on why you are here, though. Is it alright if I give you your gift now?”

[pietxst]

countfrancula:

How could Francis not rush over? Arthur’s note left him with a sense of intrigue and curiosity, as well as excitement. So, as soon as he heard Arthur invite him in, he opened the door and stepped into the office.

Moving to stand by Arthur’s side, Francis leaned in to press a kiss upon the other man’s cheek, smiling as he typically did when in the presence of his partner. 

“You know, even if you hadn’t left a note, I likely would have still come to see you as soon as time allowed. I have to give you your gift after all.”

Arthur was a bit flustered at the mere fact that someone other than his immediate family was giving him a gift. The concept is trivial, yes, but considering he was the type who often told people not to get him a gift (more out of a sense of politeness, rather than an actual reason) he was a bit... well, surprised. Pleasantly so.

“Oh please, Francis, you are flattering me.” Arthur spoke fondly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he moved around his desk and welcome Francis. The kiss on his cheek made him chuckle, and he returned the kiss with one of his own. Arthur was beginning to realize he was getting used to such shows of affection.

“How have you been, love? Is Matthew doing well ? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

[pietxst]

@countfrancula

The moment Francis sees the card, quickly leaves his office again, searching about for Arthur. Assuming him to be in his office, it is where he heads. There’s a light feeling in his chest and a soft smile on his face. In his hands he clutches a small bag; Arthur’s gift from him, which he also planned to deliver personally.

When he arrives at Arthur’s office, he knocks softly. “Bonjour, love. You wished to see me?”

Arthur sighed as he set the last of his paperwork for the day down. He had rushed them in order to finish by this time, since due to Francis’ schedule... Well, maybe it was a bit presumptuous of him to think that Francis would come straight to his office right after seeing the note, but somehow he knew that his partner would come up straight away.

It was just so... like him, that’s all.

And, true to his thoughts, he hears the soft knock and voice he knew could only belong to one man. He smiled and stood up, moving the papers away into a filing cabinet. Work was done for today, after all.

“Feel free to come in, Francis.”

[pietxst]

It was certainly harder to get into the mafia building, but Arlo had managed to get his gift up to Arthur's door. In a bag hanging on the door handle, with a wrapped book, and a Christmas card with just his signature. The book was The Complete Novels of Jane Austen, Publisher: London William Heinemann Ltd., 1928. Nothing special or noteworthy beyond that.

[ oof, what is this, it like... oozes deer scent so he can tell who its from-- ]

[ he gives a glance into the bag and immediately stiffens as he sees the content ]

[ t h e s h i f t i e s t e y e s before he takes the bag into his office and shuts the door as quickly as possible because wow time to add some more novels into his private collection-- ]

[pietxst]

like for a starter on cha-dol, neela, arthur, or christophe !

[pietxst]

fakefairfolk:

“That’s a shame, I could talk to them about it in my next letter. So… Somethin’ goin’ on with the mafia?” He said that with a heavy dose of doubt, knowing full well that Arthur would never talk to him about the mafia. “Oh no wait- somethin’ about Francis?”

“I could go for some whisky, but I’m sure you want to keep me sober for this.” He shrugged off the coat, then thought better of it and brought it back on. Not convinced his brother would not kick him out soon anyways.

Ugh, whisky. Arthur enjoyed his scotch more, but he supposed whisky was much cheaper considering the location they lived in. And while people may presume that the two were quite similar, Arthur must insist that they are not. But, despite his opinions on the drink, he pulled a bottle out of his liquor cabinet (there only due to his foresight of what Arlo would want, honestly).

After procuring two glasses and filling one with whisky (the other with water) he returned and handed the whisky to his brother, seating himself at his armchair and gesturing to the loveseat.

“I suggest you sit, I have no idea how long this talk may last.”

[pietxst]

westen-nichts-neues:

Kaspar waits perfectly still, rifle braced against an outcropping of a building 4 blocks away from the mafia headquarters. 

Breath in, count to five, breath out. 

He slowly shifts his eye up to meet the reticle in his scope as Arthur sets foot out of the mafia building, lining up the cross-hairs on the Brit’s head. 

Breath in, count to five, breath out. 

The seconds blur together as he waits, him having found himself in a perfect zen moment, still as a tree in a windless night…

He pulls the trigger.

and he sneezes. 

Goddamit it Roderich, getting him sick. He had been bedridden for the better part of the last month because of it. He thought that his recovery had ended and he was well enough to work again. He was wrong. His shot misses. 

@pietxst

Arthur steps out of the mafia building to immediately hear concentrated breathing from the top of a neighboring building, his abilities flaring to life. Years of avoiding assassination and murder have his instincts fine-tuned for malevolence, of which he could feel in waves from what appeared to be an ability user. Feeling the tell-tale sign of adrenaline rushing through his blood, he began to meditate his breathing and concentrate on getting to his car.

If this sniper was well-trained they would take the shot in the moments before he starts up his car. He would be stationary for those few short moments. Arthur was fully prepared to pull out his phone and make a call for one of the mafia members that were always stationed around the perimeter. But then he heard the faithful sound.

A sneeze.

Arthur nearly chuckled.

Within minutes he had his phone out and a squadron of mafia members heading for the building. He stood with his hand on his hip, a smug smirk on his face.

“Cold ?” He called out at the building, knowing fully well that whoever it was would be listening.

[pietxst]

fakefairfolk:

“No problem, jus’ tell me if there’s any steps or doorways.” Arlo mused with a hint of humor in his voice. He let Arthur lead the way and ducked accordingly at the doorway, and once he was inside he shuffled away from the door so that Arthur could close the door. As he took off the blindfold (once the door was closed), he asked.

“What’d you want to talk about? Somethin’ happen with the family?”

Arthur led Arlo easily enough into his house (he thanked himself for getting something with no stairs leading up to the front door) and he murmured a small warning as they approached the doorway itself, watching with a small wince Arlo ducking to fit inside. 

Despite the levity that Arlo seemed to be attempting to diffuse the situation with, there was no denying that Arthur was tense. He loathed what he was about to talk to Arlo about, since it felt so presumptuous.

“No, nothing of the like. They avoid contacting me anyways.” Arthur began, stepping inside and hanging his coat on the coat rack before heading towards the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

[pietxst]

countfrancula:

“Hmm, you’re too sweet~”

It was only because Francis had such pride in his appearance that he managed to keep his hair so soft. But personally, he didn’t care how Arthur’s appearance was, he thought him handsome regardless. 

“Well…” Francis paused, as if to think. Just how was he supposed to ask this? It was a bit awkward to just bring up. Personally, he didn’t mind such questions, but he didn’t want Arthur to feel at all uncomfortable. After all, their relationship was still fairly new. “I suppose I was simply curious. Whenever I feed from you, you certainly don’t seem in pain. In fact you seem quite the opposite of in pain…”

Out of all questions Arthur had hoped Francis to ask, this was certainly not the one he wanted. He should have known that this topic would have arisen one day or another, since he was never the best at hiding such things... And really, Arthur himself was in denial of the whole, well, pleasure factor of being fed from.

So, how was he going to get himself out of this?

“Oh, uh, well.” Arthur began with a clear of his throat, retracting his hand sharply as if he was hit (and technically he was... mentally). 

“Really, don’t worry about it, Francis. I am perfectly fine, and if I am not suffering than all the better, right?” Arthur hoped this would settle the subject and they could move on (with something like what they should eat for dinner or whether Francis wanted to watch that new film that came out... Something normal).

[pietxst]

generaticn:

“Huh.” Alfred looked over at the menu, soon spotting the word lavender, written itself in purple chalk. “A tall lavender, please,” he ordered. But there weren’t cups of different sizes lying around, so perhaps he’d been too presumptuous. 

“It’s not that bad- but I want it to leave.” It was really, really strange talking to Arthur. He couldn’t pinpoint why. He sure wasn’t intimidating. It just felt like he was talking to the sheriff of a foreign town, in that town.

Just wasn’t his turf. He moved aside to the other end of the counter and watched with awe as the veteran ordered. 

Did Alfred just order a size used in that god awful coffee chain store... What was it called again, Star-bills or something of the like ? Not that Arthur cared for it, honestly. There were always rude teens who ordered the most absurd drinks in those stores, he had to feel awful for the workers who suffered there.

“It will leave with time, so you can’t do much about it for now. Just drink tea and take some aspirin or the like. I recommend you to bed rest until it goes away, since I don’t think we need you at headquarters for anything urgent.”

Despite the shortage of staff at the mafia, there was enough around to get what was basic done, so missing Alfred (who did minimal already, Arthur had yet to measure where his usefulness truly lied) wouldn’t be disastrous.

With that he again looked towards the barista and ordered an Earl Grey with milk and honey. He ordered here enough for the workers to know his preferred size already. He brought out some cash and placed it on the counter, muttering a soft, “Keep the change,” before turning to take a seat by the window.

[pietxst]

generaticn:

“Long story short, I have a headache, and coffee made it worse last time. Too cold for sweet tea, not in the mood for bubble tea. This is my last chance.” His speech really was the rambling of a desperate man. 

“Anyway. Could you help me out? I don’t know what all this means.”

Oolong, pu-erh. These looked like keysmashes, not names, or correct words. It was in such times of distress that he needed guidance.

Ah, headaches. Arthur was all too familiar with them. At least Alfred had thought of the correct beverage, even if it was holding up his own escape in the warmth of hot tea. 

“Tea is definitely the way to go for headaches, and on what kind for headaches... I would recommend herbal, chamomile or lavender help especially. Any green tea should do the trick.”

Arthur recited this information out of the top of his head and without too much interest, looking back at the menu to find his own drink. He may order the Earl Grey for the first time in a small while. “Hurry and order, if your headache is that terrible.”

[pietxst]

countfrancula:

Francis couldn’t help but smile at the comment, feeling those butterflies return to his chest. It was hard to believe sometimes that they’d been together for nearly two months now. He still grew so giddy just by being near Arthur. “You flatter me too much, amour. But I am glad.”

There was a pause, Francis humming softly in thought as he held Arthur close in his arms. “Nothing I need, no… and it isn’t so much troubling as much as a curiosity…” He paused again.

“…Are you bothered at all when I– when I feed from you? Does it cause you too much discomfort?”

“Hmph, flattery was never my thing. I only speak the truth, and you should know that.” Arthur spoke with a playful lilt to his voice, reaching up to tuck a lock of soft blond hair behind Francis’ ear, reveling for a short moment the silky texture. He himself was never that talented at maintaining his physical features, and he could only hold pride for Francis’ seemingly natural talent in it.

He was brought out of his reverie from the question, and his brows furrowed for a moment before he regained his composure. What sort of event brought about this question? He let his lips quirk in a small smile. 

“Of course not, why would you think that?”

[pietxst]

@countfrancula

“Oh, no need to stop what you’re doing because of me, though I wouldn’t mind if you did~” He chuckled and leaned in to give Arthur a peck on the cheek, leaning over his shoulder. “I just wanted to speak with you, amour.”

There was a question weighing on Francis’ mind, but he was struggling to figure out how to ease into the conversation. “That and I wished to see you! Perhaps give you a break from your work, though I know it is important.”

“Well, I am going to drop what I am doing because first, I have enough free time at home to do this later. Second, and more importantly, I care about you more than my work.” He returned the peck with a chuckle and put down his papers, setting them somewhere he could easily see later on when he is returning home.

With that Arthur maneuvered himself to face Francis, resting his arms easily on Francis’ shoulders and raising a brow. “It has been slow, lately, so I do not mind your visits. But I can tell you are here for another reason, you look a bit troubled. Is there something you need?”

[pietxst]

generaticn:

Alfred could feel the menu speaking to him. ‘Now that the demons are at the gate, Alfred, you approach tea for help? Tsk.’

The truth was, that he’d had a searing ability hangover, a ridiculous headache, and coffee had made it worse the last time. He needed something- anything. And tea was known for this. Upon hearing the voice behind him, he knew that God had spoken. Probably close enough to God anyway. He turned to see who it was.

     “God, please-” and a dramatic pause. “Hey- Mr. Kirkland.”

Arthur had to double-take before recognizing the other. Ah, Alfred, the ability user he had interviewed on his first day in the mafia. He hadn’t had any complaints (or compliments) about him thus far, so he had little to base him off of.

Not that this was adding anything positive to his analysis of the member.

“Alfred, yes? I am impressed you still remember my name. Why are you here, of all places?”

[pietxst]

fakefairfolk:

Arlo grumbled and stretched in the seat. He felt for the car door and opened it up, carefully getting out of the car with the blindfold still on. Sure would have sucked if there was a fresh wad of gum.

“You want me to keep the blindfold on goin’ in as well?”

“Yes, preferably.” Arthur walked out the door ahead of Arlo, opening the lock to his home and sequentially opening the door with a sigh. This was going to be a long day, if this is what he was beginning it with.

He walked back and gingerly took Arlo’s elbow, leading him to the house.