seen from Yemen
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from Russia
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Türkiye
Jamil 18
Summary: Every so often, you check up on Jamil’s scales just to make sure there aren’t any more injuries that the little guy might’ve missed. You also like to pop some of his little bones just to see him go limp in absolute relief.
(It's fun to tease this snake.)
“I know you don’t like me doing this, but it has to be done.” Jamil had a vice grip on your wrist, whipping the tip of his tail here and there in an attempt to make you give up, but you’ve long since mastered the perfect and accurate grasp. “I have to check your scales, little sir.”
It’s a daily routine at this point, to feel over his scales and the length of his tail for anything off, but Jamil still get annoyed. Not distressed, because his mouth wasn’t hanging open, nor was his face pinched up into something painfully tight, but annoyed nonetheless.
Jamil lightly spat at you, a weird, rather crisp noise, just as you rubbed a thumb over his nice and smooth belly scales. They healed up quite nicely from when he scratched it after a swim in the pond. Not a scar to be seen. The cream you were given to help him heal worked wonders. And said cream came in such a fancy jar that you thought it some kind of scam. But you ran it by the internet and it turned out to be an official medication.
“The Asim’s just have the best vets at their beck and call huh?” You closed your fingers around the mass of Jamil’s tail and watched him jump in surprise. He looked to you with wide eyes, almost shocked that you’re doing this when, again, you’ve done this before. “Brace yourself a sec.” You pressed your thumb against his back to keep him steady, and tightened your grip.
A series of soft pops sounded from beneath your palm. Little Jamil arched his back, a cute squeak forced out of his lungs before he completely collapsed against your wrist just as you let go. He has become a jelly noodle. A jelly noodle with richly dark scales dotted with flecks of a practically burgundy red.
You chuckled. “That felt nice huh?” You soothed a palm over the rest of him now that he wasn’t squirming as much. Jamil blinked, blinked some more, then finally stiffened when his brain finally came back to him.
He grabbed the opening of your sleeve and shoved his entire upper half inside.
You snorted. “You really don’t like admitting anything, huh?”
A little hiss escaped his mouth, but it was a weak attempt at attitude.
REMINDER: Don't forget, you have tea time this afternoon with him.
~🌹~
This has been sitting in my files for a long time but I finally got the drive to get this done. I also got a new tablet recently so I've been feeling pretty good about getting lineart down.
I don't talk about it a lot, but I absolute adore @twst-drabbles 's Pet AU so I will rave about it until I'm dead.
Insp: https://twst-drabbles.tumblr.com/post/680780086455189504/riddle-1
Floyd and Jade 1 (friendlyflan)
Summary: These two little eels want you to join them in the bathtub. They demand cuddles.
(Words: 646)
“Okay okay, alright ow,” you shifted in your bathtub, letting yourself sink deeper in at the insistence of these two little creatures, “Can’t believe I have to take another bath.”
Bratty little seafolk, always nipping and squeezing at you when they want something. They could be more gentle, like Azul when he wants attention, but nope, these two will make you bleed if you take too long. They do not have patience.
As soon as your waist sunk under the water, Floyd jumped off your fingers and dipped right for your shirt. Jade helped out via holding it open.
“Ah,” you shivered as your felt Floyd’s and Jade’s slimy selves wriggle right up your stomach, “you both are cold!” Even though you complained out loud, the most you did was grip the rim of the tub. You’re not actually all that bothered. Their skittering is rather cute.
Jade’s little fingers padded over your ribs as he climbed up, finesse being his playground while Floyd squeaked and writhed. Poor little guy was stuck on your shirt while Jade slapped his tail against his to keep him back. Nothing out of the ordinary with these two, the Leech eels have always been jerks to one another. Playful jerks, as expected with all siblings.
While feeling little claws dig into your ribs wasn’t the best feeling, it wasn’t enough to keep the smile off of your face as you untangled Floyd. You can see him shake his head, getting his balance back together before rushing up along with Jade. Though by then, Jade had already popped his head out of your collar. While he was blurry, you almost laughed when Jade pushed his head against your cheek, like he’s trying to meld with you.
“Hello there, Jade,” you patted his tiny head, playfully squishing him closer just to tease. He didn’t complain, only gripped your jaw so that he can be closer.
A trilling growl came from your shirt. Tugging the collar back, you found Floyd glaring at you, frowning.
“Hello to you too,” you weren’t worried. You knew his angry growl anywhere and this wasn’t it. “Well? Get up here! I’m already covered in slime.”
Floyd pushed himself right off your chest, grabbing your chin before stuffing his head against your lips. You sputtered a bit, almost blowing back Floyd had you not have the reflexes to catch him.
“Kisses it is, then.” Demanding thing, this eel is. Well, not as though you would have him any other way. You gave him gentle pecks on his forehead, pressing a smile against him when you heard those tell-tale chirps of delight. When you tried to pull away, Floyd refused to let go by clinging to your chin.
Two sharp little chirps came from your cheek.
“You called, Jade?” You managed to pry Floyd from digging his claws into your skin. Jade was easier to ease off. While in your grip, Jade gave his cheeks three pats. “You too, huh?”
A few nudges of your lips against Jade’s face left Floyd huffing. When he started to get agitated, via a purring growl, that’s when you’d switch right to him. A few seconds with Floyd would have Jade make even more chirps, forcing you to switch to him again.
Seriously, what are you going to do with them?
“Alright, I’m cold,” you abruptly pulled away, the temperature of the water long since unbearable. You place the eels against your neck. “Stay here a moment, alright?”
And you were glad when they listened. They both grabbed your ear to keep themselves steady. As you got up, you felt them shift closer against your windpipe. You almost choked when they tried to wrap their arms around you as you pulled the plug on the tub. Clingy little rascals.
Well, you’re not surprised. Azul likes to hog all of your attention when he can.
Vil 27
Summary: You didn’t have to go with the group, but money talks and Schoenheit gave you a lot of it to walk down that red carpet. These outfits Vil Schoenheit had made for you, Grim, Ace, Jamil and Azul are pretty uniform, but this big gem on your coat just stood out. Too shiny, too white. And you’re very sure it wasn’t a mistake that it matched Schoenheit.
(I just spat it all out, so excuse if it seems disjointed or just plain weird. Didn't want to get stuck in that loop of wanting absolute perfection. So, have this fun bit of Vil basically putting a little decoration to signal his favored one of this little group in that Tapis Rouge event. And the Janitor just being tired of it all.)
You… have your own opinions about fashion and how it exists in your life. In a nutshell, it’s not really a thing that pings on your radar. It comes in fast and leaves just as quickly, like a breeze passing by the open automatic doors of a high-end mall. You know it’s there, and sometimes it makes you raise your eyebrows with what it carries, but other than that, it’s not taking up much of your time.
Or any of your time, really. Back at home, you were the local jack of all trades. If someone wanted to get a cleaning or a repair done but didn’t want to go through the slog of having to navigate a basically redundant call system, they’d go to you. And you’d get paid a pretty coin.
Point being, you get dirty, stuff rips and gets worn out. When you get up, you don’t want to think about what shirt matches with what scarf, or what perfume matches the season. You don’t go to fashion venues, you’re the person that cleans them up afterwards.
But, you have been in a position where you had to help set things up. Parties, weddings, quinceañeras, and theater play setups, among other things. You’ve been around, and you’ve picked up a little bit on the particulars.
Those being colors. Nothing on any academic scale, but the instinct lingers in your mind nonetheless when something doesn’t go with another thing.
And there’s something tingling in the back of your brain as you gazed at this large, white oval gem place smack dab in the middle of your chest, right before the end of your sternum. Your clothes looked like the rest of the students here. Beige.
“Hmm? Is something wrong? You’ve been fiddling with that for five minutes,” Jamil asked and it took you a second to register that he’s talking to you and not just chatting about.
“This thing.” You pulled at the gem on your coat, tapping a gloved finger on it. “It’s just off.”
White does go with a lot of things, as well as silver, gold and black, but that’s not the point here. You didn’t think much of it when you put those clothing on, but when you compared yourself to Azul, Jamil and Ace… yeah it just sticks out.
“Huh. You’re right.” Azul nudged his glasses higher up his nose before taking a closer look. “The rest of our decorations adhere to a more warm palette, but that gem is too sharp.”
“It’s weird,” you said, agreeing. None of the others had any one color that stood out, it all some kind of beige or warmer color. Yeah, Jamil and Ace had gems that were closer to white, but they lean more towards cream than anything. These outfits are clearly made to blend with one another, create a sense of unity, sorta…
And then there this big ol’ white gem on you that would blind your eyes if it caught the rays of the sun. A purple gem would’ve made more sense than this one. You don’t mind ignoring it, but you’re in the the company of Schoenheit and going to a location that’s probably gonna piss you off with all of it’s unspoken social and color clothing rules.
Well, at least you can trust he won’t have a complete meltdown.
“Maybe they just made a mistake. Too bad none of you are as skilled as me.” You could tell Grim does not care whatsoever. Just mindlessly playing with his new ribbon that he’s probably going to stash away and forget about. And then yowl at you to find it because he somehow put it in a place too high for him to reach.
“Well, yeah, weren’t these clothes made in like a few weeks? Someone probably messed up.” Ace had that grin on his face, vicious and itching to see some violence. “Vil’s going to be so angry.”
“Hmm. Doubt it.” The workers here seem to both worship and fear Schoenheit and would do anything to keep his favor. Besides, said workers are just standing there, smiling at each other like they’re sharing an inside joke.
Suspiciously quiet and composed.
Yup. They know something and that’s just making you more tired. You want to go back to bed, go back to your routine of cleaning and studying. Getting more of that good cash to spend. Not here though, you kinda don’t care for the stuff here.
Too bad Schoenheit bribed you to be here. He kept adding more and more zeroes until you finally took back your rejection. And then bribed you again to keep quiet about him bribing you. Guess he wanted really wanted someone that can wrangle these people in case something goes wrong.
You can probably afford a mansion at this point, but you can’t do that. Not when you have every intention on going back home, and you’re not about to lighten up on the pressure you’re adding to your boss.
Hmm. You can probably mess with Dire later. As a treat for yourself.
“Sorry for the wait.”
Ah, the man responsible for your extra fat wallet has come into the room, wearing a nice shade of purple and the deepest of blacks.
With an oval gem in the middle of it all, as white as the one that stood out in your outfit, glinting and nearly blinding you.
Huh.
Designers one after another fanning themselves, eyes ready to pop out of their skull like this was the first time they’re seeing him in their designs all over again. You shot an arm out just as one of them blacked out, catching them by the waist before they could crack their skull on the ground.
Ace, Jamil and Azul all panicked, but the designer’s coworkers either sighed or didn’t notice.
“This happens a lot huh.” You placed the worker in the nearest chair.
“I’m afraid it does. Thank you for that skillful capture.”
You gave a thumbs up. “You’re welcome.”
“Prefect,” Schoenheit called out from behind you, always ‘Prefect’ when in public and ‘Janitor’ when not. “Turn around for me. Slowly, if you will.”
Hmm. Don’t like that tone. It had a certain kind of tension to it, like his tongue was ready to lash out at someone, ready to be judge, jury and executioner, but with words.
But, he did give you a stupid amount of money.
You sighed out, “Fine, fine,” and turned towards him.
His eyes scanned your face, probably looking for any smudges, went down on your shoulders, over your coat, and then finally settled on the white gem right in the middle of it all. The gem that matched his exactly.
Stared at it in silence for just the slightest bit too long.
And then he smiled. Perfect and absolutely dripping with poisonous smugness. Looking the same as he always does, but now you know.
“Not a detail out of place,” he said with a little lilt to his voice, as if savoring a quiet victory.
Oh you’re going to be the subject of forum speculation theories, aren’t you?
What you wouldn't give for the little pixies to kidnap you now.
Ace and Deuce 8
Summary: Sometimes these two forget just how scarred up you are. Well, it’s not as if they don’t know, but it does become easy to forget when it all under the clothing.
(More scars time with the Janitor. Scars are weird and the injuries that lead to them can also be weird. Or traumatizing.)
When the topic turned from studying to bragging about injuries, you have no clue, but here you are nonetheless.
Well, not bragging about injuries so much as bragging about how much pain one can take.
“So yeah, I cracked a rib. It hurt to breath but hey, I could handle it.” Ace’s face was going to split in half if he continued to grin that hard.
You flipped a page through your book, though you’re not really paying attention to it. Didn't want to come off as interested since the topic is kinda… stupid, and you don’t want to imply they should continue doing more shit, but also… it’s sorta funny? You know that Night Raven College students are all egotistical sons of bitches, but you didn't think that would make their sense of self-preservation wither and die.
“Mm, I did have a concussion back to back once.” Deuce was trying so hard to appear humble, but you can see his smarmy smile behind his fist. “I was riding a bike I made myself, and crashed right into a bus. Made me see stars for days, and I didn't tell anyone about it.”
In a weird way, it is comforting, that as far away as you are from your world, some things just stay the same with people. College students continue to be some of the wildest people you've ever come to know.
…it does annoy you though. It shouldn't be that big a deal of to you, and it isn't, but it needles at you nonetheless. Toughness, getting hurt, grinning and bearing it, bragging about it because that’s just a thing you do. It’s funny, yeah, but something bitter stubbornly sits in the back of your mouth.
Can’t really tell why, though, so you don’t say anything about it. Don’t try to think about it. Let these two have their fun. Boredom brings out the weirdest in people and studying has a way of doing that to Ace and Deuce.
“What about you, Janitor? Got anything? Or is that too much for you?” Ace turned to you, tried to catch your eye, then frowned when you didn't so much as twitch at attention. You are stubborn. You’re not turning around. You did smile, if only to make it seem like you’re not quickly souring. “Hey. Pay attention to me.”
“You’re from a different world, so you have to have some interesting stories, right?” Deuce encouraged, even though you knew he was hoping for your answer to be dull or just be nothing at all to keep his story high in the toughness bracket.
They can't help but crave to know where they stand in the hierarchy. This weird, friend hierarchy.
"Yeah yeah, come on, tell it to us straight!" Clearly riding on this bragging high, Ace slid right up and nudged his elbow right in your side.
"It's fine if you don't have anything," Deuce took Ace's seat, slowly crowding you while also nudging a snoring Grim away from all of you. "Though I doubt it. I've seen you duke it out before."
Finally, you put down your book. You weren't smiling, and that had Ace and Deuce's eyebrows rising.
You took off your gloves first. The skin of your hands has long since grown tough with scratchy callouses, but recently, they've started looking… lumpy, almost. Discolored skin from the scars, fat ripped from your fingers, leaving odd dips and curves. Two of your fingernails no longer grow in right. And your palm jutted a bit with the bones and veins underneath.
"Woah, that's nasty!" Ace poked at your hands and shivered at the overly smooth and shiny scar tissue. It all felt muted.
"Yeah, no kidding. That must've hurt." Deuce lightly pinched your fingers, equally mystified.
The bitterness is crawling down your throat.
You slowly breathed in, then out.
You pushed up your sleeves. Pointed to the deep pockmarks, the twisting tissue that doesn't quite fold in right wrapping around your elbow, the paper-thin skin that highlighted your every muscle fiber. And your veins, painfully clear, pulsing like a moving parasite.
"W-woah…" Slowly, the duo's enthusiasm was dying.
Ace lifted his hands. "Uh, you can stop. Now. If you want."
Funny. The words you wanted to hear only made your eyebrow twitch.
You lifted your shirt last, right up over your ribs. Ace and Deuce's eyes bulged out of their heads, and finally their voices went silent.
They also didn't heal right. Your ribs. Well, they've healed well enough but one rib stuck out more than the others, only slightly though. It looked as if a creature has made itself resident on you. Like a hive-mind fungus was eating away at you, replacing what it ate with something similar to skin. Has completely taken over the left side of you, traveled over and touched at your spine. Made stretching uncomfortable. You pulled something once and had to wear a back brace for a bit.
Ace and Deuce blinked, then looked away in sync.
"What? Suddenly not cool anymore?" Well now you've gone and did it. Ruined their little bought of fun, showed more than what's needed. Got too personal, and you know Ace and Deuce are allergic to that topic. "I still have more."
A lot more. Too much, probably.
"…sorry." Ace scratched the back of his head, keeping his eyes on the ground.
"…me too. I'm sorry. I… forgot." Deuce clenched his fist and slightly bowed his head.
Yeah, sometimes you wish you could forget. Lucky Deuce. Lucky Ace.
You sighed, then dropped your shirt. "Just, keep all that in mind, will ya? Not exactly something I like bragging. Or being reminded about."
At least you get monetary compensation for it, among other things.
Heartslabyul 9
Summary: You already have trouble with sleeping as is, now you have to deal with the little plant nymphs hogging your bed.
Your bed wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world. It's functional. It has it's working legs, a proper frame that's seen some abuse but will continue to endure for years to come, and has a thick enough layer of a mattress to keep the springs from meeting your skin. You can sleep in it, and that's really all you need. It's also a king-sized bed, courtesy of Mr. Crowley giving it to you when you were eight.
Go big or go home, was probably motto at the time. You distinctly remember that year being filled with feasts for any little accomplishment. Big feasts. Very big feasts, as in Crowley had to magically expand the doorway to get his food through big.
Anyways, point being that this bed, while roomy, didn't really rock to you sleep. So there would be night where you'd just stay awake and stare up at the ceiling, waiting for morning to come so that the morning sleepiness would take you away. You're working on it, there's been progress where now you do get sleepy when the sun sets, but that's about it.
You're still here, lying flat on your back in the dead of night. Still awake with your eyes closed since you made a private vow not to touch anything that was related to entertainment, such as TV or the internet. There would be moments of latency, where your brain fizzles out for short periods of time before tuning into the dead silence. And, during one of those moments, you heard your window click close. A sudden, quiet snap.
You ignored it. Not because you thought it was of no danger, but because this house was so prone to random noises that it didn't even register to you to even think about it. Or linger on it. The snap sounded like the sudden click of your AC, or a random tree branch smacking against your window, you don't know. Noises just kinda sound the same when you're dead tired and the brain taps in and out of the senses.
And, before you know it, you realized you were no longer alone in your bed. Five little weights have tuck themselves close against your person, when they have more than enough room to sprawl themselves out on the bed. Once again, they have all decided to sleep here.
Ace and Deuce always take up the pillow behind your head. Sometimes they get into sleep fights and end up punching each other awake. Or they stay dead asleep and you find them in the morning mid-tussle, little leafy limbs pressed against one another. Cater would be curled against your ear, sleep-talking in those squeaky, bug-like chirps, and occasionally rolling around when he's real deep in sleep. Then he would wake up, realize he rolled away again, and crawl right back to your ear. Trey likes to sleep against your neck, feet propped against your collar bone. Every so often, you have blow air at Trey when he tries to get his grubby little hands on your lips just to see your teeth. And Riddle he likes to sleep on your chest, head against your heart. Well, not really sleep actually. He dozes and it's very easy to disturb that. You breath out a sigh and suddenly Riddle is alert, just like that.
For all of their chaos, they are creatures of habit. They are here, and they have taken up their usual places. And now you're trapped in this position until…probably morning. Ugh.
It's all fine, really. You don't mind them being here, but it makes moving impossible. It's too easy to squish them. You don't want their little bodies to go crunch just because you needed to stretch some stiff muscles.
So, what do you do?
You accept your fate. Nothing to be done.
You took a deep breath in and slowly sighed it out. Riddle's head whipped up, looking around for any sign of danger and that had you chuckling a little.
"Go back to sleep," you said, feeling as if gravel was in your throat. You didn't need to do anything more. Riddle's head swayed this way and that, then finally he face planted right back into your chest, as if he fell asleep before he could set himself down.
And now, to hope you can find sleep as well.
Dire 12
Summary: Crowley barges into your house while you’re laying in your newly furnished living room. He is a little bit aghast, to say the least.
(The Caretaker isn’t really all that humble of a person. They wouldn’t reject Kalim’s gifts. They like getting new things.)
Crowley has a habit of coming into your house without knocking and without warning. No calling ahead on his old candlestick telephone that somehow still works with modern phones. No hints or looks that tell you he’s about to visit you because he missed the feel of your home. Nothing. He just comes in whenever he feels like it, regardless of how you wanted to spend your day.
Today was another one of those days.
You had just finished with all your chores, fed and washed the pets that desperately needed a washing–those being Ace and Deuce because they were on mulch duty and found the stray cat Grim’s very gross and very solid “left-overs.”
After all that, all you wanted to do was bring out some new blankets that you had forgot you put in storage and just crunch and munch the rest of the hours away.
Well, you’re still doing that, but now Crowley’s in here giving you the stink eye, right after barging into your house, closely examining your furniture and ignoring your lazy complaints.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow from your couch. You are not in the mood of getting up at all. You just found a nice position and getting up would mean losing that and all the warmth your blankets had stored up.
Hmm. You should probably invest in an electric blanket. Sounds quite nice right about now.
Crowley didn’t say anything. Probably made some sort of tiny facial movement but you couldn’t be fully sure with that mask on his face. The same mask that’s wore for… just about all your life, really. At this point, you’re kinda convinced it’s a part of his skin. You’ve even caught him sleep in bed with the thing on.
You buried your hand in a bowl and crunched on your rather unhealthy snack. You were in the mood for it, and if you dare to ignore the mood, you’ll end up with a hungry stomach and an unresponsive tongue. It’s difficult to get a meal in your when you just don’t have the appetite for it. You’ve fought against your saliva glands and have lost pretty much every time. No use in forcing a meal in you when you’re not at least a little bit into it.
Anyways… you were having a decent day, and now it was starting to sour a little bit with Mr. Crowley being himself. You almost chucked your snack at his head when he made loud and pompous huff from his big old mouth.
Anything and all things annoying never fail to start from that particular sound.
“When,” Crowley’s gaze was cast at your newly stuffed bookshelf, filled with tomes, “did you get,” next was the ottoman that your legs were resting upon, “all of this?!” and last, with a dramatic flair to his hands, pointed to the wallpaper, sunlight sparkling off of the gold leaves painted into it. “And what of this?!”
Oh, he found your ostrich egg sized ruby with a wooden snake wrapped around it. Resting right in it’s white case and plum colored velvet.
It’s not unusual for you to get new things. Lot of your wardrobe’s and furniture’s made up of hand-me-downs, after all. Though, you suppose it is weird for you to suddenly have an entire new living room.
And why is that? Well, because of Kalim, of course.
See, you were looking to pick out a new chair because, apparently, the combine weight of both you and the little naga Jamil was enough to get it’s back leg snapping. Gave out from right under you and gave you a sore right on the tailbone. Ugh. You had to complain to someone and that someone ended up being Kalim. Weird man that he is, he’s also very easy to talk to. Not a shred to judgment to be found in those sparkling eyes and heart of his. Ignorant, yes, but he’s willing to learn.
Anyways, point being, Kalim decided that this was his fault and so dragged you to Sam’s shop. Practically nabbed you right from your bed. Didn’t even take off your pajama’s so you were rocking that with weirdly chunky hiking shoes.
And so, here you are, surrounded by a new furniture set, books that you highly suspect are from Sam’s own collection, and a big gem that Kalim tossed to you just because he thought it wasn’t enough.
You have never been so comfy, and with comfort comes the need for entertainment, so you said, “I’ve always had this stuff.” Looked him straight in the eye, not a waver in your voice. Master liar that you are.
Had those feathers on his coat been a part of him, you’re very sure they would’ve rose and puffed up. Air hissed through his nose in the way that it does when he wants to get indigent, but can’t because it would be a stupid thing to get angry over. He massaged his temples, seemingly done with you, but you can see the corners of his lips twitching when you put two overly large handfuls of snacks into your mouth.
Crowley makes it too easy to get him laughing.
“Why,” Crowley gestured to all of you, still buried in fancy and colorful quilts Kalim also gifted you but from a long while back, “are you like this? I didn’t know I raising someone so spoiled rotten.”
First of all, he was babysitter at best, and second, you are rotting but for vastly different reasons that you are currently ignoring and hoping it goes away.
And thirdly…
“Because it’s fun.” And that’s all there was to it. It’s fun to tease him and it’s to make him laugh not even a second later. It’s the reason why you make stupid lies to this face.
But also, you like being given things. Did the bird-brain himself tell you not to reject a gift because it’s impolite?
“I can see you fighting a smile, Crowley.” You leaned back against your pillow, smiling yourself.
Crowley crossed his arms and pouted like he wasn’t older than… probably everyone living here in this neighborhood. You have no clue honestly. You could be wrong.
“I’m not fighting a smile, I’m fighting against my eyes! From sobbing! Here you are, indulging in all manner of riches while I’m left to collect dust! All by my lonesome!” He turned around huffed once more, as if finally done with you.
“Sure you are.” You fished out the remote from in between the cushions. “Aren’t your soap opera’s usually on at this hour?”
Instantly, Crowley was on the other side of the sofa, hat replaced with his sleeping cap and a silly straw between his lips, connecting and looping all the way to a hot chocolate right on your kitchen table. “Actually, it’s a space opera this time, and yes. It’s the channel right after your favorite plant nymph documentary that Mozus narrates.”
Jack 15
Summary: When Jack was still new here, he always had that tough look on his face while you patted him. Cute little critter. Kinda makes you wish he didn't have to see the worst bits of you, and the mess you leave things when you feel like an empty husk.
Jack, the newest little addition to your slowly growing collection of magical pets, has a pout that pulled low on his face. Puffed cheeks, pursed lips, wisps of fog from the tips of his ears that suddenly cut zigzags in the air, and a tail that he was actively keeping down under his little butt. All of this seemingly spelled disgruntled, but Jack stayed right on your thigh as you squished an ear under your fingers.
It's like he's being punished, you thought. If not for the fact that he appeared right on your leg a few minutes after you've settled onto the couch, you'd be more concerned. The little church grim can leave at just about anytime. Not like you have anything on hand that can keep him here. And yet he twists his face around anyway. You can't help but wonder where he learned to do that, who's facial expression he's copying. Certainly can't be you. Not much of a pouter, though Crowley would say otherwise.
You huffed a laugh and grabbed at both his ears. Jack refused to look at you in the eyes as you pushed and tugged. Pointed his ear points to the door, then to the TV, to the bookshelf and right back at you. Here, there, everywhere. And Jack pouted harder, the tail he was keeping under him thumping so much he's practically bouncing. Strong little guy with a strong little tail and an even stronger force of will.
So strong he once tried to drag you off your bed by the edge of your sleepwear. Almost succeeded too. Jack's basically the reason you're on the couch now instead of letting the hours pass by in bed.
The kitchen's just over there. You know you have to eat but your stomach's been silent. Now it decides to be quite after you slept right through the hunger pangs. Doesn't help that the sun is laying on your skin and it feels nice enough. That and your tongue is not in the mood for any of the snacks you have. You've tried forcing yourself to eat before, but all you ended up with is a tasteless paste in your mouth, saliva glands refusing to work with you.
It's just a hassle. And cooking is an even bigger hassle because you still have dishes that you haven't done sitting in the sink. And trash you still haven't thrown away. It's too much.
…you still have food for Jack though. You can get up for that.
You scooped him up, chuckling when he yelped, and walked to the pet food storage you keep in a locked cabinet. Before you could get close to it though, Jack jumped out of your palm and landed on the lip of the kitchen sink. He crossed his arms, eyes set in a glare. Well, not quite a glare, more like he was trying to power through something. Or keep from puking.
"Uh, Jack?"
As if on cue, Jack straightened his back and dove into your sink of dirty dishes. A lot of dirty dishes. You didn't rush, took you a while to stop the instinct to grab him since he wasn't a plant nymph nor a seafolk. He won't get hurt. He swirled around each dirty dish, looking like you dropped dry ice into the sink. Can barely see a thing before it all retracted back and condensed into Jack's dog-eared head.
With a grunt of effort, Jack lifted a clean glass cup right above his head. It was clean solely because you only drank water from that and haven't bothered to put it back in it's proper place.
"What are you up to, little guy?" You reach to grab the glass in case he dropped it, but he jumped out of the way. Even twirled in the air before landing perfectly below the faucet.
With a great big breath, Jack blew a thin, powerful jet of air and fog onto the closest lever handle. Water began to fill the cup. When Jack determined it to be enough, he waddled out from the sink, jumped once more, and landed right on the counter.
Jack set it down. Smiling and puffing up with pride, the fog spirit patted the glass and pushed it a bit towards you. He is practically sparkling.
Sometimes you forget he's capable of some pretty impressive feats. Hard to remember when he's so tiny and grabbable.
You snorted. "Alright you tough pup, I'll bite."
You took a sip, then started to down it when you realized how thirsty you actually were. You set it aside, then grabbed the sponge as soon as you adjusted yourself at the sink. You may as well. You're here anyways.
"Mind grabbing the drying rag for me? It's over there."
Jack, ever the dutiful fog creature, flew over your head to grab what you needed. It's…going to be a long day, but that's fine. Jack makes it fun with how cute he is.
