Artist-Cupid

  "WhereisitWhereisitWhereisit?!" Those were the only words racing into Pietro's fast-paced mind as he quickly ran from passage to passage, from stairway to stairway, but he still had a long way to go. As far as he and Wanda knew, they had been living in [Name of City/Town/Village] for seven months now. But they only visited the dry goods store in the [city/town/village] three times so far, so Pietro was not entirely sure if he was flying in the right direction. He wondered if- "SHIT!" The speedster fae paused in brakes as he discovered some kind of wooden slabs sealing up the next tunnel he was about to take. They were arranged crookedly,

  "-alright, here's that bowtie you ordered, and that Elsa dress I sewed up earlier." [Name] was not feeling good again, but she continued to work on the commission despite her current health. She was still confused on what just happened earlier this morning, and what did she just saved. Too bad the young woman did not get to observe it properly, but from what she managed to figure out, it wasn't a bird, mouse, or an insect. So what could it be? Hmm... Anyways, today was Christmas Eve, and a couple of her customers were picking up for the outfits, accessories, hats, or costumes that the tailor had finishing making earlier in December; as in,

  "Heeey, how's it going over here?" There were other faes popping in for a visit, it seems. Pietro looked up from the half-sewn sash belt he was working on to find his fellow fairy folk flittering around the hideaway. Sam was the guy who initiated the greeting, his red and white wings flapping in the air. Clint plopped down on a chair as he created extra arrows out of saw grass and porcupine quills while Natasha helped him out by polishing his twisted-wire bow, her distressed spider-web wings curling around her arms like a shawl. Bruce was lying on his stomach as he read a cut-up newspaper article about science outside the [city/town/villag

"Hm.. what's this?" The girl arrived in her small shop one December morning as she glanced at the white envelope in her hand. Written in black calligraphy at the front of it was her address and her own name, [Name], and there was a holiday sticker sealing the flap. She found this particular envelope in her mailbox earlier today and decided to open it before she started working for the day. Almost bumping into a mannequin on the way to the large wooden workspace, which also functioned as storage cupboards and a sitting area right by the window, she plopped right down and hurriedly tore off the flap, finding a letter inside. [Name] unfolded it

The world was a battlefield, literally. The sky, cloaked in inky darkness, was assaulted by fiery blasts and avian attacks. The moon, once a slender white beacon, was now marred in a dark bloody red, while the air was shattered by a plethora of growls, screams, and battle cries. Buildings became abandoned, decorated houses ended up trashed, and the streetlamps were weakly flickering away. Streets, fields, parks, and roads were plagued in various battles that never seemed to end no matter how well you kept track of them. Unusual beings, from the colourful to the horrifically scary, from the risqué to the nerdy kind, they were too busy ei