royalmercer-c23-archived - Tumblr blog

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

WHO: royal & @maralvarezcordova​ WHERE: the satanic soiree (club nyx)

     As Royal turns to leave the bar, a silvery glimmer catches his attention from across the room. It doesn’t take long to pick out the source — a woman in a white dress and a pair of wings, with enough glitter to technically count as hi-vis. She’s beautiful. And strangely familiar.

     Before he can even process that thought, her eyes meet his and she bolts. There’s a moment where he hesitates, unsure if he should go after her, but he can’t help the curiosity that drives him to down his drink and take off after her.

“Excuse me? Hey, hold on a second!”

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐄𝐳𝐫𝐚:​

         ezra knows when the comments stop that he’s burrowed far enough beneath his skin to earn his beating. it’s not particularly difficult to do. enduring is almost enough on its own, and with his open enjoyment? there’s almost nothing more infuriating than having the wrong reaction to the punishment he’s sought out—but where some might tire of his depravity, royal only turns up the heat. good. he prefers him like this, stewing silently in his rage. for all the snarky comments he can offer, there’s little more satisfying than the crack of bone and stench of his own thick blood.

         as the bat comes down, shattering his kneecaps, he howls in agony. in pleasure. in some ungodly hybrid of the two. “FUCK!” every last bit of breath in his lungs is spent on the phrase, leaving him choking on blood and splintered bone. “that’s it,” he continues, barely above a whisper. an ugly, wet wheeze. “that’s it. hit me—hit me again. harder.”

     In truth, Royal is tired of Ezra’s never-ending hunger for violence and pain. But he knows that if he stops, Ezra will just go satisfy that hunger elsewhere. To Royal, that’s an unacceptable alternative. So he brings the bat down again. And again.

     “Just. Fucking. Shut. UP!” Each word is punctuated by a blow, and the last one lands with sickening force against Ezra’s right thigh. There’s a shocking crack, the loudest so far, and Royal knows instantly that he’s broken his femur. He’s not sure he’s ever broken one of those before. First time for everything, huh? But he can’t help but find himself asking the same question he always does when it comes to Ezra – when will enough be enough?

.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

seven-c23​:

Pick out all the rocks. Royal is talking about the scuffed knees of childhood, the kind of injury Seven is only aware of from the gauzy, sun tinted flashbacks in films. An adult, looking back on a simpler time. Seven’s never had that. The smarter people he’s known? Nothing but cruel. Pick out the bad stuff.

Seven does listen, he wants it to make sense. Like he could talk and the rocks could fall out, Royal’s patience in listening like he’s carefully helping pick out those rocks. Only, Seven realizes looking up at Royal, what isn’t a burden?

It’s easier to continue the metaphor than to actually say he’s had a miserable, lonely life. The sort that would be given one of those maudlin memoir books, with a forlorn crying child on the cover, the sort of life people read about to feel better about theirs.

It’d be easier to find the undamaged parts, as far and few between they are. “All I have is rocks and dirt,” he places his knife and fork down, carefully, neatly, but he looks at his hands. At the faint scars on the webbing. No part of him is untouched. “I don’t think there’d be anything left.”

     Watching the way Seven lays his utensils down makes Royal question himself. He seems... tense. Maybe his choice of words, or metaphors, could have been better? It’s so difficult – the fruitless search for the right words to ease the worst, most unimaginable pain. They always prove insufficient.

     “I won’t pretend that I know what that feels like,” he starts speaking anyway. There’s a sincere gravity to his words, but no pity. “But Seven, you will always be more than what was done to you.”

     At that point Royal really isn’t sure what else to say – or if saying anything else is a good idea. He’d rather not make an ass of himself, if he hasn’t already. 

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐋𝐞𝐨:

Well, what an intelligent bear! He picks up the sandwich in both hands, looking positively human. Actually, he reminds Leo of the trained bears she’d seen long ago, and she’d learned they were treated quite cruelly. She does hope this bear isn’t one of them. When he nuzzles at her hand she scratches at the dense, velvety fur around his nose and mouth, looking over his face for any injuries or signs of being forced to wear a muzzle, or… well, she’s not sure exactly.

The bear nuzzles her hand again and Leo giggles, distracted briefly from her worries as she scratches under his chin. “O, ursa tam amicabilis!” she croons again, gently flicking a few crumbs away from the fur of the bear’s mouth. The way he’s wiggling looks happy, but Leo is aware she’s not exactly a hardened explorer, so it’s very possible she doesn’t understand. “Sit pede videre?” she asks, talking for her own benefit rather than the bear’s – to signify what she is asking, she holds a hand out, palm up. The hope is that the bear will understand and put its paw in hers so she can inspect it, though it does look rather like she’s asking him to dance.

     This time, the only word Royal recognizes within the sentence is ‘bear,’ but her tone makes it clear it’s a compliment. He nuzzles her hand again, having the time of his life to be honest. It tickles a little when she brushes away a crumb or two – his nose wrinkles up and he snuffles a little to try to chase the tickle away. He’d really like to avoid sneezing on this very nice lady.

     Whatever it is that she says to him as she holds her hand out goes over his head. Obviously she’s asking for his paw, though. A harmless enough request, especially from such a kind person, so he obliges. Very delicately, he places his paw in her hand. Comparatively, his paw is ridiculously massive to the point that it’s kind of funny just how much bigger he is.

     As she inspects his paw, Royal wonders what it is she’s looking for. Injuries, maybe? There aren’t many of those to find, though – only the scar on his left palm from a bad fall around age ten. He lets her take her time looking, leaning closer to sniff curiously at her hair. There’s a wealth of distracting smells there, like shampoo and conditioner, but also traces of people she’s walked past and other places she’s been. Even as distracted as he is, he takes care to keep his claws well out of her way. No accidents of that nature this afternoon, please and thank you!

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

🔥 MICHIEL HUISMAN GIF PACK.

commissioned pack ! in the source link you can find #307 gifs of michiel huisman in his role as dylan branson in the movie 2:22 (2017). these were made by me so please don’t repost or claim as your own. feel free to edit in any way but please give credit if posting publicly!  please like/reblog if using! enjoy!

trigger warnings: shirtless scenes, alcohol, suggestive scenes, car crash, glass, blood, injuries, flashing lights, police (arrest), guns

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

MICHIEL HUISMAN GIF PACK — UPDATE.

by reading my pinned post and joining the server, you’ll be able to access #127 gifs of michiel huisman in the age of adaline that were added to the old pack, bumping the total to #303. please, do not: claim these gifs as your own, repost them as part of gif hunts, or edit them in any way including cropping them without my permission. if you found this pack helpful in any way, please reblog this post or consider donating to my ko-fi as a form of supporting my work.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

who: @screadail

where: a small coffee shop

It’s just supposed to be a quick stop for a cup of coffee. Nothing can ever be that easy though, apparently. He’s rushing, shoving a five into the tip jar and turning quickly for the door. Too quickly.

Royal doesn’t see the person behind him until it’s too late. “Shit! I’m so sorry!” She’s wearing half his latte now, along with what looks like a nice leather jacket. Well fuck. He grabs a fistful of napkins and offers them to her with an apologetic look.

“I can pay to have your stuff dry-cleaned. Really, I’m so sorry.”

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐋𝐞𝐨:

Oh, this bear is absolutely precious! He sniffs at the air, letting out a purr-like rumble and patting his belly. It’s almost like he can understand her. She’s laughing in delight as she speaks, slipping into her native Latin because bears don’t understand any human languages, so why not stick to what she’s comfortable with?

“Sal-veee, ursa! Tibi placet panis et mel? O, cogito agis! Tu felix ursi.” Reaching into her bag, she withdraws the sandwiches and unwraps them. If the bear ends up biting her hand off then so be it, but he seems so friendly that she’s not even a little bit worried as she approaches him, rubbing the dense, soft hairs of his muzzle and holding a sandwich to his mouth. “Mansuetim esse, quaeso!”

     Royal drops his mouth open in a (hopefully) friendly smile. It works with other bears, at least. He wiggles his nose for good measure as she laughs and speaks to him. It takes him a second, but he recognizes it as Latin. Oh, interesting! He doesn’t speak it but he does recognize a couple words – bear, and also honey, which makes his ears perk up. Then the word bear again, but different? Oh, wait, she’s pulling out a sandwich! This woman is the best!

    Before he picks up the sandwich with delicate precision, he nuzzles at her hands a little. Royal uses both paws to hold the sandwich and take a bite, holding on to the rest. As he chews, he purrs – a deep, rumbling sound more reminiscent of a large, slow motor than nearly anything else. Once he swallows, he smiles at her again, still purring. She is by far one of the most generous people he’s met out here this year. So far, anyway. 

    He leans back towards her and snuffles at her hand before popping the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. So tasty! Royal wiggles happily – the calories in that will keep him going for a while.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐬:

          @rcyal-mercer​ !!

         a far cry from even the wildlife in the park, fins’ trek to the outskirts of the city has left him with more questions than he thinks could reasonably be answered. thanks to the guidance of a few wary, if kind, hikers, he’s found himself in a place unlike any he’s seen before—the woodlands. but unable to adhere to the signs… he quickly finds himself at a loss of where to go next. or more importantly, how to get back.

         back against one of the many, many trees in the area ( so many more than he could ever imagine, of all shapes and sizes and colors ) he doesn’t quite notice the large mass of fur until it’s almost on top of him, too caught up in wonder ( and a lingering idea that he’s lost ) to pay attention to anything else in the area. even so, it’s not fear that drives him, but curiosity. against anyone else’s better judgement, he reaches out to touch the large animal.

     Long before Royal sees this other mutant, he smells and hears them. Whoever it is, they’re big, but probably not as big as him. Huh, they kind of smell like – the ocean?

    As Royal rounds a tree the other mutant comes into view, far closer than he expected. He had been distracted trying to identify the smell, and he comes skidding to a stop. The leaf litter all over the ground causes him to slide, and he narrowly avoids colliding with this shark person. Still trying to recover his composure from slipping like that, the hand in his fur is a bit of a surprise. It’s probably a good thing the rest of the bears in this area are smaller and more likely to run away – it seems like this guy’s never seen a bear before.

    Royal steps back a little, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to give this guy the idea that it’s safe to pet random megafauna. But if he doesn’t know that, and judging by the way he was looking around before Royal nearly crashed into him – is he lost? Sharks don’t typically hang out in the forest, after all.

   He decides to sit down facing the other mutant. With a quiet rumble, Royal waves with one paw and then gestures toward himself, then the shark-person. That ought to get his attention, right?

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐨:

“Honestly, this isn’t the first light bulb that I’ve had to screw in. Sometimes people like to take them out to hide things in the holes and forget to screw them all the way back in. But sometimes it just happens” Matteo shrugs. Management had picked up on his…affinity for electricity. They hadn’t asked if he had an ability, and Matteo hadn’t shared it; but it hadn’t surprised him when he was often the one called if anything electrical was happening. 

“No problem! That’s why I’m here after all, to help out guests and all” Matteo gave a thumbs up. He stiffened when the other touched him, but he fought against the reaction and relaxed almost immediately. He didn’t get bad vibes from this guy. If he had, he wouldn’t have come alone; or would have at least told whoever was at the desk with him to come and check on him if he was gone for a certain amount of time. 

At the other’s suggestion, he laughed quietly. “Thanks for the offer, but uh, I think we’re good. We have someone who works maintenance, they just…aren’t here today” He trailed off lamely. “But!” Matteo quickly added “I’m pretty good with electrical work too, so, we are mostly covered.

.

     Royal shakes his head in bewilderment. “People do some really weird stuff, huh?” He notices the way Matteo freezes at the quick touch and quickly retracts his hand. Duly noted – no touching.

    “Fair enough,” he replies to the polite refusal. “You definitely did seem to know your way around up there. They’re lucky to have a guy like you on hand here.” Royal flashes him a sincere grin. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle up a little.

    “Hey, feel free to tell me to back off and mind my own business here but – you ever think about apprenticing with an electrician’s union?” He should probably just be leaving this kid alone, but unbeknownst to him, he had crossed the event horizon of Royal’s gravitational dad anomaly. There’s little chance of escape now.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥:

Even if it is a mutant bar, he doesn’t want to look bad in front of the mechanic who he’s trying to befriend. Because of course Will ordering eighty proof shots wasn’t exactly the best first impression, he takes a long time thinking about it before just settling on a reasonably priced beer. God. He looks so uncool. He should get a whiskey or something, try to not look like a dad. Or a high school kid.

“Hey, don’t go breaking the bank on my account there,” he says, laughing a little. Thankfully, there’s an alright beer there, one that he drinks before he says something stupid. It would be just like him to do so, anyway. His mouth is always working against him, it almost feels like a bit of a coup. “I’m not switching mechanics! Besides, you’re the best one I’ve ever gotten.”

There’s a brief flash of the series of events that had Will and Royal meet before he shakes his head. “So, before I talk your ear off, I gotta ask, what’s up with you, big guy?“ He pats his shoulder, wanting to go for a grab, but just bailing at the last second. Smooth. Real smooth. “Any other clunkers like mine or do I have the worst one in New York?”

     The beer Will orders is a bit of a surprise, but Royal sure isn’t about to say anything. Far be it from him to question anybody’s drink preference, really. He definitely appreciates that it’s not exactly a pricey drink, too. But –

     “I did agree to pay though, and I’m a man of my word!” He lets mock-indignation creep into the second half of that, but he can’t help the laugh that follows. The wink is entirely by choice though. Is he being too flirty? Nah. Especially if that little pat on the shoulder is anything to go by. Hm – the feeling of Will’s touch lingers, although his hand doesn’t. Royal takes a drink to hide the smile that pulls the corners up the corners of his mouth.

    “No worries man, I didn’t invite you out here so we could sit here in silence at the bar,” he laughs. “I hate to say it but yours is without a doubt the worst car I’ve seen, There’s this one bike, though. Now that thing,” he gestures emphatically, “that’s a real bucket of bolts.” Royal chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s a miracle that thing hasn’t just disintegrated.”

    “She was actually in again this week. I keep trying to get her to let me really restore it, but it was her mom’s bike and she doesn’t want me to change anything.” He sighs, then waves one hand as if to shoo away the serious topic. “That’s enough about my job though. How have you been?” Royal leans forward a little, smiling jovially and eager to listen.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐄𝐳𝐫𝐚:

         there’s a dull wheeze where a moan might have crept out, broken by the boot grinding bone beneath its heel. this is exactly what ezra has been seeking out—retribution, unarguably deserved, at the hands of another. not to assuage his own guilt ( a feeling he’s not well acquainted with ) but to distract in pleasure that few others can truly understand. the worse the injuries, the closer to death’s door, the better it feels. few can claim to take him there, with or without his ongoing cooperation.

         even gasping for breath, lungs torn with shards of bone, ezra manages to pick his bloodied head up off of the floor. a bat. a bat. he could only hope to be so lucky. spitting out another gob of ichor, he barely manages to get out, “go. keep going.” beyond his other leg, beyond every untouched bone in his body. he wants to be utterly crushed. nothing else will satisfy.

     This is the first time in a while that Royal’s had use for his bat. The tape around the handle is peeling, but that’s not an issue. The only issue right now is that Ezra is still talking.

    Instead of saying anything, Royal simply brings the bat down on Ezra’s other leg. A sickening snap rings through the tiny room. The sounds that Ezra makes in response only stoke Royal’s rage. He’s always hated how much Ezra enjoys this. But he’s powerless against his own fury. Or perhaps, says a little voice in the back of his mind, perhaps he’s simply grown to enjoy the violence.

    With a frustrated roar, he swings the bat again and shatters one kneecap, then the other. There’s no room in his brain for a snarky comment this time – only scorching hatred. For Ezra, and for what Royal becomes in his presence.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐚:

“ alright, guy. alright. ” she could continue on her way – simple enough to leave the bear-man alone in the woods. but this guy was in for the theatrics ! this guy was in for the dramatic pantomiming ! and this guy… to put it simply, she wanted to know what he was thinking. but how much of his mind was animal and how much of his mind was still connected to humanity ? a human brain, she could communicate with. an animal ? only in her most natural form could she even begin. “ what do you say we make an agreement ? a… compromise, of sorts. ” for a proposition that was going to be entirely harmless ( to both herself and the bear man, at least ), she sure was sounding like a disney villain ! “ i fuckin’ morph myself – ” – that was how deep her curiosity ran – “ – so we can have a, eh, proper conversation… ? ”

.

     Aha, so she is a mutant! It’s an interesting proposal, and he can’t pretend he’s not curious to find out what other form (or forms) may look like. Again, he tilts his head as he considers, so she knows he’s not just ignoring her.

    After a few moments, he nods. It’s always exciting to meet a new mutant. Maybe they could be friends! Ever the optimist, Royal sits back on his haunches and waves one paw to invite Vera to continue. This day is turning out to be far more interesting that he originally anticipated, and honestly he’s loving it. So exciting!

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐚:

…did it say something about her lifestyle that a waving bear was far from the strangest thing she’d seen in that week alone ? hell, if it weren’t for the fact that she had a planned stop only yards away… would she have even noticed ? more importantly, would she have even considered it noteworthy ?  against what would be the better judgment of most people, she approached the bear ( she was nearly invulnerable ! she had acid blood ! very arguable that the bear was in more danger ! ). nodding her head to the side, she placed a hand on its furry chest ( if royal would let this happen alfdjaklsd )… then offered some subtle nods. under her breath, to herself: “ eh, wouldn’t you have it ? the beast is real. ” backing up slightly, she asked, “ wanna break out of the bear skin ? ”

.

     Okay either hikers were getting stupider or there were a lot more mutants than humans out in these woods. There’s no other explanation Royal can think of for this person’s fearless approach.

     He scoots back a little as she moves towards him but otherwise doesn’t go anywhere. She seems intent on touching him, and he decides to let her. His breath ruffles her hair when he snorts at her comment about him being real.

     Shifting back, though? Hm. As he considers the question, he tilts his head to one side, then the other. His clothes are back at his campsite – they don’t shift with him, they just get shredded if he tries. And he really doesn’t want to give anyone any more reasons to call a park ranger on him. Ultimately, he flops both paws over his eyes in an exaggerated pantomime of shyness and shakes his head.

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐨:

Matteo stands on a the rickety ass ladder, where half his focus is on keeping it standing and the other is on checking out the light bulb in question. He puts his hand out, feels as the electricity flickers out of the bulb-no-the socket. Matteo raises an eyebrow before dropping his hand and reaches out, slowly turning the bulb until the light flickers on. “Looks like the bulb was just a little loose” He states, turning to face the person who had called him. Technically this was supposed to be a maintenance thing, but they hadn’t shown today. “Should be all good now” He adds with a grin as he makes his way down the ladder. 

 @rcyal-mercer​

     Watching this kid – okay maybe he’s over 20 – up on this ladder has Royal’s dad senses tingling. Silently, he steps in behind the ladder, ready to catch the kid should he fall. Royal can’t help but laugh when the kid, Matteo, says it was just a loose light bulb.

     “Yeah, that makes some sense.” There had been some uh, vigorous activity in the adjacent room last night. That was probably what had jostled the bulb loose. He doesn’t say anything about that though, figuring that Matteo has surely seen and heard more than his fair share of that shit.

     “Thanks for your help, man,” he says instead, smiling and clapping Matteo gently on the shoulder. “And hey, not to sound like an asshole, but if you ever need a really good electrician for this place, I know a gal, I can get you her card.”

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

– 𝐋𝐞𝐨:

Although Leo likes her creature comforts, she also likes escaping those things because often it feels overwhelming. The world is so very big and so very loud, and although he has grown older with it, she never feels like she kept up. Out here on hiking trails, she can sometimes pretend there’s no such thing as telephones and the World Wide Web.

Dressed comfortably for walking (that is to say, in a walking skirt she made in about the 1900s, a pair of pointy leather boots from about the same time, and a slightly more modern blouse, Leo sings quietly to herself. The trail is quiet, and she ambles peaceably. Probably she’ll stop for lunch in a while — she’d brought a small picnic with her.

And then, rounding a corner, she sees a bear. He waves! How charming. “Hello!” Leo flutters her fingers back, venturing closer with all the survival instinct of a woman who knows she can’t die. “Thou canst eat me if you really want but I’m not sure you ought to make a habit of it. I wonder if bears can eat sandwiches…” This last bit is more to herself than to the bear. The sandwiches in her basket are honey and banana, and she knows bears like honey. More than meat? She’s not sure.

     The sound of the woman singing reaches Royal’s ears before he can see her and he smiles. She’s got a lovely voice. He tilts his head, watching and listening carefully as she approaches him. Her outfit looks vintage – she’s got style, too. And she’s waving back! He flings his other paw up and waves with both very excitedly before clasping them together in front of himself.

      At the suggestion he would eat her Royal snorts indignantly. And possibly with a bit of surprise at her old-fashioned vocabulary. But when she mentions sandwiches his ears perk up. One long sniff tells him she has something with honey, and was that – banana? Oooh, delicious!

     Royal lets out a small rumble and pats his stomach with one paw. It rumbles back. Is it rude to accept a sandwich in this situation? She doesn’t seem to be at all afraid, but he’s not sure it’s the polite thing to do. 

[royalmercer-c23-archived]

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞:

Trail running is a fairly new hobby Blake’s picked up, one she finds she appreciates for the dexterity it requires to run full-tilt down a washed-out hiking trail without eating gravel. What she hadn’t really accounted for up until now, however, is the likelihood of running into an actual bear. Sitting. Waving?

Blake slows from her jog to walking, barely out of breath, then comes to a tentative stop about twenty feet away. She can’t remember what to do in the event of encountering a bear. Is she supposed to lie down and play dead? Or is that the thing she’s not supposed to do. All Blake can remember right now is she’s not supposed to feed them, to hang food high out of reach when she’s camping — but she’s not camping, she’s out running. She’s got a couple of protein bars in her small running pack and that’s it, besides water.

Blake rests her hands on her hips, nose wrinkling as she squints into the sun and can feel sweat rolling between her shoulder blades. “Well,” she says carefully. “Hey there, big guy. Haven’t seen one’a you out here before.” Behind the casual words, Blake is very seriously calculating whether or not she thinks she could take a bear. She comes to the conclusion she probably could, but would prefer not to. “You being nice to the hikers in these parts? Because it’s been a while since I’ve had a day off, and I’d hate to see it ruined.”

     Royal can tell that this runner is seriously sizing him up as she approaches. She’s brave, getting closer than most people would. The keenness in her eyes tells him she’s not some dumb city person though, she just knows how to handle herself. He sniffs the air curiously, but the only scent that grabs his attention is peanut butter – ooh, protein bars.

     At her question, he drops his paw, huffs loudly, and gives a very distinct nod. He’s always nice to hikers. It’s hard to smile as a bear without seeming threatening, so instead Royal meets her eyes with his and wiggles his pompom-shaped ears a couple times.

     Very slowly, Royal stands. This is always the best part. He pushes off the ground to stand on his hind legs and slowly bows, gesturing with both paws like some sort of doorman urging her to continue on down the trail. He makes sure to hold the pose for a few seconds, long enough that it can’t be passed off as a trick of the eye. Then, he drops back down to all fours and winks at her.