Year: 2021

Cafuné (Shard-verse)

Cafuné (Brazilian Portueguese): The act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.

Rated G. 872 Words. CW: mentions of being in the hospital, weight loss due to illness. Set in the morning after Gökotta

Delia woke to the smell of fresh coffee and dragged herself out of bed. Washing her face and running her fingers through her hair was enough to make her presentable enough to head for the living room. Quigley had said they’d come early, even though it wasn’t Wednesday, to celebrate Nathan being home. Nathan was sitting in the corner of the couch, Joel sprawled over the rest with his feet in Nathan’s lap, each with a book. She leaned down and kissed the top of Nathan’s head.

“Oh, hi!” Nathan tilted his head up and got another. “Our ghost is sneaking around again.”

She scoffed, petting his hair. “You were just distracted.”

“I heard her,” Joel said without looking up from his book. “Hi mom. Quigley’s going to make French toast if you want to tell them you’re up. They said they were starting the dusting.”

“You’re hungry then?”

“I’m a growing kid,” he said dispassionately.

“You can’t use that excuse that much longer.” She ruffled his hair on her way by and rolled her eyes at his fake grimace.

~ ~ ~

Delia couldn’t stop watching Nathan as they ate. It’d been almost three months since he’d been home. He’d lost weight and was even paler than normal. He’d tied his hair back like usual, but instead of it flowing down his back and shoulders like liquid gold, it lay lifeless where it didn’t stick out like dandelion fluff. He smoothed it unconsciously and irritation flickered over his face. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Hey. Love you.”

He shrugged. “I’m a mess.”

“It’s fine.” He squeezed back before letting go to grab another piece of French toast before Joel ate it all. “I have to run into the office to take care of a couple of things that can’t wait. Anything you two want me to pick up while I’m out?”

“Can you stop at Action-Os for my comics?” Joel asked.

“If you give me the money for them.” He rolled his eyes and stole a piece of bacon from her plate.

“Yeah, there’s a couple of things,” Nathan said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

“Thanks Del.”

~ ~ ~

He was napping when she got back, splayed out on the bed with his arm over his eyes. She smiled and set down the bag from the pharmacy in the bathroom before sitting down next to him. He made a soft sound and rolled over.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hey handsome.” She ran her fingers through his hair and he leaned his forehead against her leg with a happy sigh. “Can I wash your hair?”

“I did it last night.”

“Mm. I got some different conditioner. For dry hair.” He made a face – he’d always had the opposite problem. “I haven’t gotten to play with your hair in ages and a couple of the nurses definitely wanted to keep you, you flirt.”

He turned and smiled up at her. “I can’t help it.”

“In the hospital and still a heartbreaker.” She poked him, gently, in the side. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

He propped himself up. “Apparently by letting you wash my hair.” He rubbed his eyes. “Well, at least I get to see a beautiful body.”

Delia scoffed. “Come on. Let’s get our beautiful bodies off the bed.”

Delia had insisted on a big fancy tub when they moved in and once again was glad for it. Getting into the tub involved more than the usual amount of kissing and groping. Finally Nathan leaned against the side and side. “I’m getting really tired of being tired,” he grumbled.

“You’ve gotten through a lot.”

“Yeah…”

She grabbed the shampoo. “Come here.”

He rouched out and snagged her foot with his. “Nope. Too tired.” She splashed him gently and came over.

~ ~ ~

He sighed happily as she massaged the lather through his hair. “That’s nice.”

She leaned over and kissed a suds-free patch of skin. “Lean back.” She caught his smirk. “And not onto my chest.”

“But I’m tired. I need a pillow.” But he obligated and helped rinse out his hair. He wiped his eyes as she reached for the conditioner. “This is much nicer than at the hospital.”

“You weren’t tempted by the cute nurses?” she teased.

“I didn’t see any as cute as you.”

She shook her head with a smile. “Liar.” Conditioner and leave-in conditoner later, his hair was feeling less like straw and more like its usual silk.

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Braid my hair?”

“Of course.”

He pulled out the seat at the counter and sat as she found a com and hair band, the both of them in just towels around their waist. She was careful as she ran her fingers through his hair to ease out the tangles before follwing with the comb.

“How long are you planning on spoiling me?” he asked as she started to braid.

“I don’t know. How long are we planning on being married?” She was a fast braider and soon she was tying it off. “There you go. Come on, I’m getting cold.”

He pulled it forward and ran his hands over it. “Thanks, love.”

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Gökotta (Shard-verse tidbit)

This is set after Nathan gets home from the hospital following the events in Devotion

Gökotta (Swedish): To wake up early in the morning with the purpose of going outside to hear the first birds sing.

Rated G. CW: being in the hospital is mentioned but no details given, mention of weight loss (not dieting)

Nathan was a morning person, but usually a bit later in the morning. But this was the first time he’d slept in his own bed since his accident. He’d even gone to bed later than usual, not as late as Delia, but it was almost 10 pm before his eyes got heavy. He’d slept so much at the hospital, even if it was poorly and often interrupted. He’d woken up a bit when Delia climbed into bed and wrapped her arms around him.

“God, I missed you,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around her strong ones. This was the final piece of being home – being in their bed, together, entwined. He sighed and fell asleep quickly. If he dreamed, he didn’t remember it. He’d had strange dreams in the hospital, some of them disturbing, most of them just fragments of nonsense.

He woke up, laying on his back. The room was dim and comfortable and Delia was still snuggled against him. He turned over and brushed her hair out of her eyes. He’d missed her so much. She’d always been a reliable presence, strong and graceful. He sighed noiselessly. He was fully awake. He carefully extricated himself from the sheets. Delia was a heavy sleeper, but still.

In the bathroom, he closed the door before turning on the light. He usually tied his hair back before bed but had forgotten, and it was a rats nest of tangles. “You’ve looked better,” he told his reflection. He’d lost weight. He’d fix that in time. He washed his face and then grabbed his brush and sat down to deal with the tangles.

The first hints of dawn were just beginning. He stood and pushed open the window. The air was chilly, but fresh in a way that the sanitized hospital air never was. After a moment, and several knots untangled, the birds started to welcome the sun with joyful song. He smiled and leaned back to listen.

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Iktsuarpok (Shard-verse)

Iktsuarpok (Inuit) – The feeling of anticipation that leads you to keep looking outside to see if anyone is coming. (This definition is questionable – I could only find it in lists of untranslateable words)

One of Magpie’s and Wild Streak’s get-togethers, but he’s running late, as usual, but apparently not for the usual reasons

CW: mentions of parental abuse (literally, it’s just mentioned that Daisy was abused), mentions dangerous driving and police, implied relationship with significant age difference (they aren’t dating at this point, but Daisy is in high school and everyone else is far beyond that)

Rating: G

Magpie put down the lock and her tools. Dammit, she didn’t expert Wild Streak to be on time, but this was getting ridiculous. They didn’t get together that often, and usually at Wild Streak’s place. This time, he’d said – and it was obvious he was being prompted by Charles, the sweetie – that he didn’t want to disturb Daisy while she was doing homework. She’d thought she’d had him figured out years ago, but turned out he still had surprises. No idea who Daisy was, but it was the first time she’d heard that sort of affection from him.

She turned up the police radio. She hadn’t heard anything, but nothing else was as in character for him as catching the attention of some cop. He’d get away, probably, and have a good time doing it. Of course, that’d only be if Wild Streak was driving and his boys had stopped that ages ago. Andre was smart enough to keep the cops from noticing them.

A knock on the door. Finally!

Wild Streak strode in, the mannerless oaf, carrying his kit like it was weightless. She grinned. “What took you so long?”

His smile faded. “Oh. Uh. Daisy was upset.”

Andre prompted from a step behind him. “She doesn’t know who Daisy is yet.” He waved and held up a big cookie tin. “Hi Magpie. Charles sent snickerdoodles.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“Got it.” Andre headed that way.

Wild Streak set his bag next to the couch and flopped down. “Somebody was teasing Daisy. At school,” he started, pulling out his lockpicks.

She rolled her eyes. “Backtrack a bit there. Why do you have a school age kid at your hide-out?”

“Her dad abused her,” he said with a shrug.

“Since when do you care?”

Another, more eloquent shrug. “Since it was her.”

Andre returned with a tray with cookies and drinks for all of them. “We don’t get it either, but he adores her and she’s a peach.”

“Okay then, how’d you meet her?” And his face lit up, like she’d only ever seen when he was bragging, and he started his tale.

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Open Locks (Shard-verse)

CW – mentions of ableism towards amputees, mentions of war and injuries from it, abusive personality (it’s Wild Streak…). Word count: 569, rated G

Andre ruminates on Wild Streak’s one friend.

The boss doesn’t have a lot of friends. It’s his own fault, you know – he’s self-centered, impulsive, and quick-tempered. Me and Charles are the only help he’s been able to keep, and honestly some days I don’t know why we stay. Daisy adores him, of course, but he’ll do anything for her. Everyone else in the community? They respect him, fear him, admire him, but don’t like him.

Except Magpie. I don’t know when they met – she’s about me and Charles’ age, younger than Wild Streak. But she can make her smart-ass remarks to him and he’ll smile. I mean, she’s careful, but not terribly so, not walking on eggshells careful the way people like Gimmick are, or the super-respectful way the way gang leaders are when they hire him. And he looks forward to spending time with her. We don’t need to remind him about their get-togethers, mostly, or gather up his stuff for him. And she trusts him – I’ve talk to other goons and nobody else knows that she lives in a big penthouse or that she’s loaded.

Maybe it’s that the boss doesn’t care. He doesn’t even glance at her swanky place or expensive decor. And she’s nice when she comes over – our place is alright, but it’s got scars from Wild Streak’s tantrums and most of our stuff is second or third hand. Charles and I do our best to keep it nice, but we don’t bother with a bunch of decorations that are just gonna get broke.

He doesn’t care about her legs either. She’s too young to have been in the War, but she’s missing both legs. Missing parts and other problems are common enough, but there’s always the people that tend to still treat disabled people a little different. The boss doesn’t care. And she’s never said anything about his eye or skin. He doesn’t try to scare or creep her out either, doesn’t do his usual power plays.

The only thing Magpie and Wild Streak care about is locks – everything from tiny little padlocks to great big safes. Picking them, hacking them, exploits, work arounds, and, if necessary, breaking them. And they’ll compete with each other – and if you know Wild Streak, you know he hates losing. But with Magpie, he’ll just laugh and have her show her or make another bet or whatever. They trade stories, without the type of oneupmanship you see with big shots. He’s even given her things – he’ll make his own picks or turning tools and it’s one of the few times he’ll sit still and work hard on something. About the only other time is when he’s taking care of his clothes. And if he makes something new, he’ll give her one to try out. She does the same, but she seems to buy a lot more of hers.

They sit and race to get through a pile of locks or one of them will have something that just came out or that is rare or especially hard to get open. The boss can practically whisper at one to get it open some days and other days struggle with it for half an hour, but Magpie is consistent. Fast, with those nimble strong fingers of hers.

I don’t know how they met or if there’s anything to their relationship but locks, but damn I’m glad the boss has a friend.

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WIP Shard-verse art

I’ve changed Wild Rush and Deuce of Heart’s names again. Wild Rush is now Wild Streak and besides the grey skin he’s also got a black scar across his face and one eye that’s completely black. Deuce is now Wild Heart (her real name is still Daisy Hart).

I’m working on getting characters designed in Daz3d so I can do pin-ups on Patreon (starting at just $1 a month!). I have Charles and Andre nearly done (I need to do scars), Swordcat almost done (I have to finish his textures), Magpie almost done (I need to do the designs painted on her prosthetic legs), and Mick almost done (I need to do some fixes in Blender and his tattoos).

So here’s some of that art. If you want to see them more often or with less clothes, subscribe to the patreon!

Two people walking a path in a park looking at each other adoringly. The woman is shorter and fat with strawberry blonde hair and light grey skin. She's wearing dark pink gloves, a pink and black domino mask, black coat with tails, and shiny pink body suit. The man has red hair and slightly darker grey skin with a thick black scar going from his forehead to the opposite cheek over one eye, which is also black. He's wearing grey gloves, a red suit, a pink shirt, and a gold tie.
WIP of Daisy / Wild Heart and Wild Streak (I’ve made his hair darker since then)
Different angle on the couple. Her mask is pink with a black heart over her left eye, the same eye that is scarred on her boyfriend
Different angle so you can see Daisy’s mask better because I spent SO MUCH time on it. (I don’t know Blender very well yet). And her gold eyes.
White woman with two prosthetic legs. The shins of the legs have a floral design. She's pretty buff and looks confidant. She has long dark hair and is wearing black shorts and a loose tank top.
Magpie. I’m not entirely happy with her design but I don’t know what I don’t like. I need to do the art for her shins.
A young man in a denim jumpsuit kneeling next to a green parrot on a perch with her wings spread. They're talking to each other. He's got light brown skin and short afro-textured hair and painted nails.
This is Mick Adler, one of the founders of Future-Tech, the company Delia works at. He’s the reason Future-Tech exists – he invented an amazing battery that replaced gasoline engines in cars, among other things. The parrot is Darla who he spoils rotten. Mick is Latinx with black, white, and indigenous heritage.

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Saudade (Shard-verse)

Note: Swordcat is another sorta-multiple character in the Shard-verse. The body really is Leon Smith’s, but it was transformed when he picked up the sword, which has a personality that lives in his head and sometimes steers the body around, because swords don’t have hands. Stomlin Ward keeps the sword in the freezers because then Leon can be a calm, somewhat dim, cat. (Relevant vignette/post)

I’m incredibly proud that I managed to get this down to a perfect drabble. CN for implied genocide of humanity and of an alien race, freezing, burning, specieism

Saudade (Portuguese): The feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost.

Leon dreamt of memories not his own.

Leon wasn’t like its lords before (how long ago? how- its thoughts skittered and it shuddered in the ice). Leon was grey compared to the lords’ passion. That didn’t matter. Glory would be restored, shining cities and green forests. It would be carried again by lords with thundering voices and soft wise words and dazzling eyes matching its own. And then no more coldness, no more loneliness, no more wrong-smelling air – flat, oily like enemies of old – no more furless parodies of people.

No more memories of burning and cold, cold, cold.

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Connection (Shard-verse: Alchemy)

CN: mention of hunting / implied animal death. As always if I miss something, please let me know so I can add it.

Word count: 405, Rating: G. Crossposted to the Rainbowfic community on Dreamwidth

Ostanes and Iosis are from the novel that I have some rough draft chapters up for (you can find them in the Story Index). Basically all you need it know is that Ostanes split himself into two people using alchemy so he could do his great work. Basically, they’re multiple and headmates, but in-story they wouldn’t fit the definition. Ostanes can’t use Iosis’ name and tends to refer them as one person most of the time.

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Patreon

Did you know I have a Patreon? With exactly one patron at the time of writing? I do! And I’d like some more patrons, so I’ve updated the tiers, including TWO tiers for smut. Well, not too smutty, because Patreon won’t let me, but pin-ups of fictional people! Yay!

Work in progress on Charles Woodbury

The non-smutty tiers (named after some of my favorite species of cats, aside from the conlanger tier) will let you see work-in-progress images, read my thoughts about what I’m working on, and vote on what I post next. Higher level tiers get a monthly sketch or even custom art or writing!

So come take a look and if you can, help me out! https://www.patreon.com/silvercat

The smut tiers include things like this, because butts are good!

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Great-Uncle Bubba and the Magic Shop (fiction)

One of the ways Ursula Vernon deals with trolls on twitter is telling stories about her (fictional) Uncle Sven. (so far as I know these aren’t collected anywhere, which is a shame). I decided to follow her example, and this is the story that resulted.

While I used some bits of my actual family as very vague inspiration, everyone and everything in this story is fictional and probably wildly inaccurate to the supposed time period, whatever that is.

(CW: references to period racism – in that I say it exists and that people would use words that decent people don’t use these days, poverty, malnutrition, drunkenness, references to pre-antibiotics tuberculosis, illiteracy, corporal punishment at school)

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