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libellule-saphique · 2 years ago

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Miraculous Season 5: Luka & Kagami's Wasted Potential

If this show wasn't already bad enough.........

Like everything else, it disappoints me that the writers of this show are lazy when it comes to additional character development essentially in the love rivals

but who am I kidding? I knew what to expect when Thomas quite literally said Gabriel was redeemable after torturing all of Paris for years simply because he wants his wife back actively neglecting & abusing his son in the process while in the same breath saying Chloe is beyond redemption and she's a teenage girl who's dad couldn't give a rat's ass about her and spoils her crazy to get her off his back 24/7 and her mom who wants nothing to do with her verbally & mentally abuses her with the only real people who like her to the slightest and tolerate her are Sabrina and Armand who's practically her butler. The double comparison and double standard is wild but nonetheless not surprising seeing how the show's narrative is already bias when it comes down to Adrien & Marinette's character treatment. (the misogyny and racism is loud as hell)

Season 4 of Miraculous was already beginning to go downhill and season 5 simply added icing on the cake. To be honest I was partly excited to see the relationship dynamic within the love rival relationships, Lukanette & Adrigami at the start of season 4 because it was different from the repetitive love square and we got to see our two main leads interact with other characters in a romantic light other than themselves only to end before they could really start. It was a slap in the face and a huge cut from some possible major character development and love square progress. But the writers are so afraid of change and cant manage to make a good progressive storyline and felt that Luka & Kagami were too much of a threat to their Love Square that could've heavily improved because of them in the first place. Some episodes could've been focused on friendships between the love rivals and Marinette & Adrien. But ofc we get the same monotonous plotline mid season 3 to the beginning of season 4 Adrien & Kagami spend more time together, Marinette is conflicted and overwhelmed with feelings, Luka is there for emotional support (which felt like his sole purpose in earlier episodes even until now) Kagami is constantly frustrated by Adrien's indecisiveness, passiveness, and hesitance, etc, etc whatever and it continues all until they break up.

Then out of the wood works, we get Adrien realizing he has feelings for Marinette despite her being quote on quote "just a friend" 3-4 seasons straight. Despite. Marinette putting a hold on relationships ever since Lukanette's breakup and the fact that Monarch is still on the prowl and her responsibilities as a hero, because lets be honest if Ladybug/Marinette doesn't tend to Paris & Monarch no one else will, (Chat Noir definitely won't) the writers still say "hey lets tend to and coddle Adrien's feelings bc now he likes her more than "just a friend" and it doesn't matter how Marinette feels, doesn't matter if she's not ready for a relationship even though she's made that clear on multiple occasions after her and Luka's breakup bc at the end of day what we learn is what we already know "Adrien's feelings are more important than Marinette's overall treatment as the female protagonist and discomfort."

And what do you ask happens to the love rivals? Of course! the writers have to find a way to string them away from the complicated love square

Instead we get Luka shipped off with his dad on a world tour and Kagami paired with Felix (which........also doesn't feel right and for what reason did this have to happen?) Felix is the same guy who quite literally SH Ladybug, but ok? the writers feel like it makes sense to pair Kagami with this guy? She seems to like him for the same reasons her and Adrien's relationship took so long to work out in the first place. I don't even know what she saw in him, he's so bland, so passive, and everyone characterizes him as a "perfect cinnamon catboy who's abused and needs emotional support leaning on our main female lead who's not responsible for his baggage at all but hey! Everything is Marinette's responsibility after all right? They decide to give Felix more purpose in the show as Felix's a more assertive, serious, proactive version of Adrien and that's exactly what Kagami's looking for but I honestly think that it's a cop out for the possible unresolved feelings she had/has for Adrien (though he doesn't deserve her anyway) . It's like the show's message when it comes to romance and love is the only way to be genuinely happy is in a relationship which is so beyond fucked up, and its a overall bad message to kids and teens, no one in the show learns to love themselves and learn themselves first, Kagami would be simply fine without any relationship I can say the same for many other characters especially Marinette & Adrien. Why are romantic relationships needed to began with?

Season 5 is a prime example of the garbage dump Miraculous has become over the years and the poor writing decisions the writers have made.

#kagami tsurugi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrien salt #luka couffaine #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous season 5 #love square #adrienette #adrigami #lukanette #chloe bourgeois #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #tomoe tsurugi

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o0anapher0o · 1 year ago

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Four theories about the Devil’s Minion

First off, I don’t claim this is in any way comprehensive or that I have come up with any of those. I might have overlooked something really obvious, with this show that happens quite frequently. But these are ideas of what I think could have happened with Armand and Daniel in the seventies, based on the information we have so far, which is that they met in the seventies and Armand saved him from Louis, and that Daniel’s oldest daughter was born in the mid to late seventies (judging from the ‘seven years before car seats where mandatory‘ bit in Daniel’s autobiography).

1. The Devil’s Minion hasn’t happened (yet). I would say unlikely given they did meet, Armand decided for some reason to save Daniel’s life and Daniel’s memory of the time is shot. None of that would be necessary if nothing had happened (and where would be the fun in that). But it is of course possible that it’s all a red hering.

2. The relationship lasted shorter than in the book. Considering the show is on a condensed timeline and all the other relationships are also shorter, it would make sense if the ten years Armand and Daniel were together in the book would have been condensed to two or three years. Personally I’m not a fan because I think to get to the breaking point Daniel reached in the end in the book it would take more than a year or two, but it seems very logical for the show to do.

3. Alice is Armand. The theory that Armand twisted Daniel’s memories of him into memories of a first wife ‘Alice‘ and the reason Daniel’s eldest daughter doesn’t talk to him is that she doesn’t exist. Now I love this theory. I have written this theory. It’s fun and messed up and insane. But I don’t think it’s true. It seems like a neat way to circumvent enormous gaps in Daniel’s memories and it crazy enough that Armand would do something like that but. The sentence ‘my ex-wife reminds me I never owned a buik‘ indicates she was in some form consulted for Daniel’s book and that they therefore are (or where at the time) still in contact. Which makes sense for the woman he has a child with, but not for the vampire who erased himself from his memories. There is also no reason for Armand to add a fake daughter to the story, a lie that is unnecessarily complicated and difficult to maintain longterm.

4. There was overlap with Armand and Alice. This one seems the most likely to me. For one it fits the timeline. Two, it explains incoherent memories (maybe Daniel did own a buik with Armand that Alice didn’t know about). But most importantly it would explain why things went differently than in the book. One of the main reasons Daniel in book could never get away from Armand (other than being addicted to his blood) was that in the end he had nothing/no one else left he cared about. He was alienated from friends and family and barely working anymore. The only future he could see was as a vampire with Armand. If Daniel had had another relationship and a child that would have opened the option for another future. Another future he might have wanted (or that Armand was convinced he wanted). A child changes everything. And Armand in the book already assumed Daniel would grow to resent him if he made him a vampire, if doing so also meant taking him away from his child it makes a ton of sense for Armand, especially given his very (for vampires) recent experience with Louis and Claudia to not want to repeat that mistake. If he’s going to lose Daniel anyway at least he can let him have a life.

#and how enraged he would be to find he gave up Daniel to give him that and he fucked it up #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv speculation #the devils minion #daniel molloy #armand

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zahra-kha · 4 years ago

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Dear Diary 36

I’ve written in you less and less of late. This makes for less of a chronicle of my life if I don’t write in you diligently doesn’t it? Well, to be honest, I don’t feel like I need to remember every detail of my life. Especially with everything that’s been going on lately.

However, not all of it has been dark spots. Some of it has been grey, some of it has been bright. I’ve been wading myself through uncharted territory and I can’t say I’ve always made the best or correct decisions but I’m also not perfect.

I wrote in my previous entry that I didn’t know what I was supposed to do now that my troupe was...the way it was. I didn’t know what my purpose was here in Eorzea. If I’m honest with myself, I’m still not entirely sure. I’m frightened, nervous, and there are times when I feel alone. The people who I thought were my support - it’s a mystery if they ever really cared about me (which I’ll get into in a bit) - turned out to be a source of immense pain. I’m trying to recover from that but I wish I could explain to people how difficult that is. How hard it is to trust again when family betrays you.

There’s insecurities there that weren’t before. When I spoke to Sid, I initially told him that it probably wouldn’t make a difference if I left to return home, because everyone had their lives and everyone would eventually move on with their lives. I said that, but I didn’t really mean that. To be honest, I was just scared. It’s easier to leave than to be abandoned, easier to walk away than learn later you were never wanted or needed. Easier to pull away than get rejected.

But my whole life I’ve been running. I walk forward so I can run from something that’s been chasing me. I felt like this time if I moved forward, without looking back on what I’d gained, I’d lose something really precious. And I felt like something in me would break and never recover.

I spoke with Sid for a while at the Bojza camp - it was helpful. I wasn’t looking for answers, I don’t think I was. Maybe just some clarity from my chaotic thoughts. It was easy to talk to him. He was kind and patient with me as I rambled. He didn’t try to push me in any direction, and I was grateful. I wanted to know a bit more about him, I felt maybe he understood a bit of what I was feeling. I thought maybe if I understood him, it’d help guide me to a decision. Was that selfish? Writing that down, it almost sounds as if I was using his feelings and experiences. But I also genuinely wanted to know more about him. I think he’s an interesting person that carries a profound sadness, but it also seems he’s managed to find happiness and a sense of purpose.

That’s what I want, a sense of purpose again. Sid wondered if maybe what I’m searching for is what I lost - my family. I conceded that maybe that was it. But I’m just so hesitant in calling another group family again after what happened. I spent half my life with those people, and none of it was real. I loved them, but I was just a means to an end for them.

It would break me, shatter me beyond repair, if I fell into that trap again with everyone currently in my life.

I want to, I so badly want to believe and trust in them. They’ve been there for me, they’ve helped me, healed me. Cared for me during this whole ordeal. Hells, they have bled for my sake. And of course, I have not hesitated to jump into the fires for them as well. But that’s completely different from fully giving my heart. I just...can’t. I’m trying, but every time it’s like something cold and hard grabs hold of my throat and claws down, screaming I’m a fool. Fear consumes me, and I feel as if I’m drowning.

For now, I’m just content to be here. Sid helped me organize my thoughts and realize my path lies here. I want to heal here, and be around the friends who have shown me care. I want to relearn how to believe in true bonds again. I want to walk forward and see where the road takes me, and I don’t want to be afraid - I don’t want to do it alone.

That’s what I’ve decided.

I managed to tell Quin (Leo?) a bit of this, I hope I didn’t worry him too much. I was a bit under the weather when the truth came out, I’d been shot on the battlefield and was recovering - but it was a good talk. It’s amazing, when I first met Quin, I don’t think I had a good impression of him, and I don’t think he had any real impression of me. Now I think of him as a silly little brother.

Speaking of, Quin and Erith got fake married! That was...interesting? I probably should have done more to stop it but it wasn’t official so I didn’t really see the harm. Uh, save for Erith putting Quin at shotgun point. I don’t know, I don’t really like getting between their dynamics because they have a really unique relationship but it’s quite clear they deeply care for one another. So I just go with their antics. Should I though? Am I enabling bad behavior? [There’s a drawing of a dizzy Zahra along the margins]

I wonder if festivals bring out romance? There were quite a few couples seeking blessings and marriages, so I guess maybe they do? Erith was looking for a husband for Bernon so there was that. I didn’t really know how to feel about it. Not really lonely? Wistful, maybe? I can’t say I’m looking for a profound relationship, but I think having someone to laugh with and share small moments with would be nice.

Maybe...not quite the same as what Erith and Quin have. Being at shotgun point is frightening. I completely understand why Quin started drinking. Heavily.

I’m rambling, but my mind has been all over the place. I’m avoiding talking about what’s really going on in my head because I’m not sure if writing this down, reliving it, will be easy.

I’m talking about my confrontation with Sahrin.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I demanded answers from him. I think I was expecting him to explain why Sai did what she did. I was hoping he’d smile at me and tell me everything was a misunderstanding, or that they’d been acting on their own accord and he hadn’t know anything.

I didn’t mind Gail putting pressure on him - she understands what it means to be a leader, and how hard it can be to have people do things behind your back, and the heavy responsibility that leadership entails.

I also realize what I’d done to him - I appeared out of no where and threatened him into a meeting right after he’d seen everything he’d built up burned to the ground. Of course he was confused, of course he wanted answers. I’d given him nothing. I’m sure he tried to look into it on his own, but he likely didn’t get very far since he’d been gone so long deal with Armand and was unaware of all that’d been going on.

No one is omniscient, but I wasn’t entirely in a caring mood. People I had once cared about deeply had tried to kill me more than once - I was tired.

Father once told me that there are always two sides to a story, and what you know is always just a small part of a whole. He said it’s always good to know and understand the full picture of things, but never let that knowledge influence how the ending needs to be written. And if I can help it, I should always be the one holding the quill to those short chapters in my life.

Sahrin told us about Sai and Esila, and then he told us about the foundation of the troupe and what its original purpose had been. The first troupe they’d all been in - I knew they had worked for the government covertly, doing their bidding under the belief they were serving their nation. Even if it was unpleasant, someone has to do it.

Sahrin and the others felt the troupe wasn’t looking at the real threat - the Empire. And I suppose I can understand their fear. With the way the empire was expanding, the idea that Thavnair would have remained a free nation forever was questionable at best. The Empire wanted to be a world power, once they’d conquered all they’d truly desired, why not take Thavnair too? Would we had really been able to stop them, if they had truly put their forces to it?

"We’ll be on their list eventually.” was a legitimate fear. It was one I’d heard on the lips of some nobles and commoners growing up. Not everyone liked the Empire in Thavnair. Not everyone felt the arrangement we had was beneficial. For all the ones who welcomed them for business and trade, there were those who feared them.

I guess Sahrin had been one of those people. He’d become frustrated with his troupe and decided to form his own. Except he couldn’t be normal about it, no. He took others who had anti-Imperial sentiment and they all decided they were going to bring in children to train and raise them - and by raise I mean brainwash - into perfect anti-Imperial fighting tools.

I cannot express the emotions I went through upon hearing that.

I mean, yes, it’s preferable to bring children into a troupe’s fold because it’s easier to train a dancer when they’re younger, more flexible, and their minds retain things easier, than to start them when they’re much older. I’m going to try and give them the benefit of the doubt and hope that’s what they - no, what Sahrin was thinking when he started this. I don’t want to think of Sahrin as a bad person. There’s just a part of me that refuses to do that.

But I can’t...forgive him for creating the troupe with those intentions. It really doesn’t matter that ‘he grew a conscious’ with me and changed his mind. Congratulations, I guess? Maybe one day when I’m not feeling so angry I’ll send him a cookie for deciding not to be quite the terrible person he could have been.

Okay. I’m feeling petty. And angry. And hurt. But his admission ripped the floor of my reality right out from under me. I admired him, looked up to him - I had wanted to be like him. I had wanted to grow up and eventually be a role model to others because of him. And then to learn all of that had been based on a foundation of lies - that I had initially been nothing more than a tool for his ambitions...

Even if he had changed his mind, clearly the others hadn’t, and that hurts. And he knew that. He’d known and I guess had been trying to change them. But you can’t change people who actively choose to hate - even if they feel their cause is righteous. There is a right way to go about change, and using - hurting - children is not it.

Sahrin helped us decipher some of the letters, and it honestly made a bit more sense when he put them into perspective. It looks like Esila really was trying to sell me out to some guy named ‘Darling’. I don’t know why he wanted me so badly, but apparently, Cecilia was getting traded to Sabe, and I was gonna get sold off in some auction had everything gone well. In exchange, I guess they were going to get their audience with Orhan and incriminate Sahrin. Sahrin guesses this was all to get a connection back to the old troupe.

They wanted a way back to the old troupe so they lied, cheated, and were even willing to kill to do it. The warmth, smiles, all of those good times we had were all fake.

I was at a loss of what to believe in. I felt like an idiot for falling for their schemes for so long. I should have seen it - hadn’t I grown up surrounded by scheming adults? I should have known better by now.

I told Sahrin I never wanted to see him again, and then after that the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. I know everyone came back to my apartment. I served them drinks and sandwiches. I wanted to make sure Quin was okay. Outside of that, I don’t remember much. They left and I remember taking Bitey and Fènghuáng away. I still haven’t gone back to the kennel to pick them up.

I went back to my apartment and I just...suddenly I hated everything about it. It reminded me of home, of my troupe - and everything went white, then red. My heart felt heavy and my eyes burned. I think I screamed. I know I cried. And then I fled. I ran and ran and ran. Until my legs turned to rubber and my lungs screamed and I fell down...somewhere. I didn’t recognize the surroundings. I think I was around a lot of trees and sand. I just know the breeze felt good against my skin, and the grass was cool and comforting.

I cried, an ugly, gulping, gut wrenching cry - until there wasn’t anything left. And then I sat back against the cliffs and stared up at the sky until the sun rose. I didn’t want to return to the apartment, so I didn’t.

And then the next day I went and dyed my hair black. I need to find some white clothing, to mark the passing of the troupe, my family, and for Esila. The Esila I knew and loved - not the one who wanted to trade me to I guess slavers. The woman I had known to be a good person.

I will mourn her death, because she had lived, and she had brought me joy, even if it had been made of lies.

#ic #zahra kouris #zahra kha

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vcsecretgifts · 5 years ago

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Wipe his blood from your mouth with mine

(Otp shenanigans based on what could have happened between Armand and Daniel post hunting together in the warm rain - in last chapter of Prince Lestat - {Hope that’s okay not a blood communion fan and Daniels not in it…} Lestat and Louis are nosey, helpful spectators/advisors In that order. A little nsfw, soppy and an essay of angst. Hope you like It! Merry Christmas 🤗)

Gift for: @headfrst4halos

From: @auburnandamberangel

…

A few nights had passed since their reunion, they’d hunted together in the warm rain - eyes had acknowledged them slipping out together but no interference, this felt more solid then previous meetings. A certain Roman not such a prominent Father hen presence. Familiarity was steadfast, much left unsaid between but in the spirit of having survived this latest blip in immortality pushed down to be revived at a later time. Negotiating simply being in each others company was rollercoaster enough. Small glances, heated snatched stares. Measuring the changes in eachother, coveting the lack of them.

The huge cinema room, a ridiculous term as he’d paid good dollars to watch a flick in smaller venues, the latest safe space to catch up. A do not disturb sign hooked on the double doors, a lock across them. Not that this meant much to telekinetic mentalists amongst them. But a polite notice to leave them in privacy. Daniel was eyeing Armands form, at least what he could see beneath the knitted Sweaters neckline. No tanning or change in tone to porcelain perfect flesh. The theory of their healing abilities known, but never tried into practice by himself just yet. Not that he hadn’t had the impulse - Marius ha immolation was beneath him, always made sure his charge was safe and sound come sunrise.

Armand noted changes too, still flushed as marked his age in the blood. But more strength coiled than should have accumulated in the decades since their parting. His blood then, nursing his fledgling. Practicality was one thing, necessity another, but his passionate possessive side said hang being reasonable - the implications of the to and fro between his beloved and his maker. Aside from Louis’ attack post interview only his fangs had tasted Daniels blood, only his fangs had parted flesh in his necks favourite crook. Louis had understood his hesitancy to bring the subject up, close companions coming together in a time of mutual vulnerability. Many happy years spent in New York. Trinity Gate their slice of peace. "It's not as if I’ve ever asked Lestat to compare me to David. Though it doesn’t mean I’ve never thought it. Never ask a question you mightnt like the answer to.“ His response had been succinct. "But Cher they were definitely lovers. This situation is less clear cut.“ Louis had smiled then, shrugged meaning everything and nothing. "Things concerning Marius rarely are, are they."Preaching to this choir had been his reply.

Daniel was recalling his own pep talk with Lestat, not so much a pep talk as the brat Prince not so subtly inquiring as to his intentions towards his blood brother. More being spoken at. "I feel responsible for his last brush with oblivion. I’d rather not stand idle at this potential catalyst to my blood brothers well being.”

Feeling peeved and rather touched all at once, he’d nodded. “Lestat you’re many things but thinking of you as my uncle and I your nephew is too, too much to want to comprehend!" Thankfully the mercurial anointed leader took his words in good humour. Always had quite liked him fortunately, could once upon a time have run away on adventures together. Though whose heart that particular fancy was meant to wound more Louis or Armand - Daniel had never quite fathomed. Hands up in a sign of peace he’d added. "Rest assured I’ve always broken my own heart over him, I’d rather that than breaking his ever again. I was off my noodle for way too long. I have alot to catch up on.”

A strange look had passed over Lioncourts face. “I said something similar to him you know. …‘You break my heart you little fool, you always have…’ I think i prefer your sentiment.” Shudder as if someone had walked over his grave. Memnoch related Daniel had assumed.

“Can I ask a favour. Could you make sure Marius doesn’t try to help us in what no doubt will be a charged, embarrassing and classically devil and minion problematic fest." Brow quirked at this request Lestat had smirked, a twinkle in those famed blue eyes. "Run interference as they say. It’ll be a pleasure." Making to turn heel and leave. Pausing. "You know I can’t decide if you smell different or not… Never mind." With that winking and walking away before Daniel could comment what he’d meant.

Back in the room, Daniel edged nearer, leaning across the plush seat between them to better see Armands face. Rewarded with a wistful tug of lips.

"Of all the vampires in Trinity I have your full attention still. Im flattered.” Eyes warmed in a way they hadn’t been in quite sometime. Flitting to Daniel equally captivated violet ones.

“Always will have it too.” Moving almost to sit on the arm of aforementioned middle seat.

“Its…complicated. Or whatever the get out clause for a relationship not happening is these days…online.” He’d tried to keep up to date with modern jargon. Not as much fun as learning with his minion in the eighties, but he couldn’t wouldn’t allow himself to atrophy again.

“There it is breathtaking in every way yet simultaneously so stupid!” Daniel hitting the seats cushion in a burst of frustration. The seat rocked. Oops.

Armand laughed despite himself. “There’s that sassy mouth I’m fond of coming out to play.” Glancing down at the seat, it had been bent. Ah.

“Give my mouth something else to do. Kiss me. I promise I’m same as I ever was.” Just a plain simple kiss, though usually desire took over and wham they were engaging in full on blood sharing in a blink.

“Let’s not rush into things…” Playing with a stray curl, rapidly teasing it out. At this rate he’d have straightened his locks from the sheer tension of it all.

“I’m not waiting six years again for a snog. The chase ended. We’re way passed third base now don’t you think?!” Edge of something darker in his tone. Lestats words echoing in his mind now.

“We hunted together.. Be- Daniel.” Slip of the tongue he’d nearly uttered beloved. “That was alot.” No lies there. He hunted alone as a rule, Daniel was the only immortal he’d shared with.

“I know we shared the kill. Shared the blood. It was great, lovely. But Im not going to lie I wanted to be responsible for your heart racing…” Wow his throat was dry. Blurting all this oit, no holding back or hiding behind word play. “Is it because I smell different.”

“Smell? What do you mean?” Nose prickling as he’d wondered hadn’t he, a moment before about infusions from a twice millennial source. Did he hesitate because on a base level Daniels blood smelt different because it was…

“Lestat said something about me smelling different. Is it because I smell more like him. Like Marius?”

Deep breath. Right to the jugular of the situation. Flush of pride who the hell else spoke to him like this, no one.

“We were parted whatever happened between you is none of my business. It would only be natural for you to seek comfort in his arms… He’s very persuasive.” The words were coming out, but he knew his heart wasn’t so forgiving or clear cut.

“Well fuck! Your going to quote we were on a break. Really! This isn’t Friends. I doubt either of us matches Ross or Rachel.” Daniel realising bow improbable it was for Armand to be up to date with 90s pop culture. “It wasn’t like that. It was feeding not flirting. I wasn’t exactly following a balanced diet. I don’t want him, it’s you it always has been!” Last hit to the seat and it screeched it’s last. “Shit! I’m sorry.” Staring at his hands like he’d just seen them.

Armands eyes widened. There was that strength again. Not more thsn his own but a progression. Lestats mind voice in his head. *Do I need to come in and break you guys up? Or is this good rough?* That famous timing…*No. He’s broken my furniture, no harm to me. And it’s always good rough between us for the record.* Satisfaction at the too much information wince on Lestats part. *Don’t make me tell on you to Louis, you know he hates you being a voyeur.* Quirk of a brow inside and out. *Its been a while we’re out of practice.* Pleasing ringing of laughter as the brat Prince took the hint. Opening his eyes from a protracted blink to Daniels face and form kneeling right infront of him. Unforgivable this oversight, to allow himself to be this surprised. Hadn’t even seen him move. No threat from this vampire though, no need for high alert physically, only emotionally. Always his heart that needed protection. Minute frown appearing. The urge to reach out and run fingers through Daniels hair almost over powering. Hands death gripping the plush arm rests, clawing into the material and stuffing as well as the metal frame below.

“Don’t you want me anymore. Is that it - Really?” Once he’d thought he’d never get to touch those rosy lips again. Stroke hands through deep russet flaming curls. Hear his voice and those special noises he only made for him. Cold shower for Mr Molloy. “The bloodworks just a primal excuse. The usual vampiric urges BS.” All this aside he wouldn’t force himself on Armand. Never. A time machine to kill any who had. He’d thought him dust to the wind. Well he could feel himself ready to blub. Filled to the brim with so many feelings.

Armand could smell the start of those tears. He could lick them away, like they used to. Drink the pain away. Curled up together after a fight. Entwined. Love through the blood. Strength and stay through that intimacy. “I could never not, beloved.” Time for his own tears, that affectionate term opening his own flood gates. “I don’t think I can love you how you need to be loved, is more the point. What if I make you relapse. I’d never forgive myself…” Nails now through his own palms. Chair two in ruins. His own blood scent filling the air. “My beautiful boy…”

There it was, the spicy scent he could only taste as a mortal, fully appreciating the body of it after crossing over. The aroma. Fearful words sinking in. Shaking his head. “None of that was your fault. It was just our luck to be the tortured star crossed lovers. I’m better, was well on the way to better when I knew you weren’t gone. Not dead. I left, that was on me.. I left you alone, I swore I wouldn’t in our garden but I did. I neber meant to not come back. The rot had set in, nothing made sense. But here you are whole and perfect and as maddening self introspective as ever. Don’t you get it. That was my job as your minion, to save you from yourself. To save my devil from whatever tested you. And I wasn’t there. I’ll be Damned if I ever make that mistake aga-” Words cut off as bloody yet healed hands reached for him, pulling Daniel bodily into his lap. Not an easy task sized as they were.

Armand couldn’t bear him saying one more heart wrenching thing. Broke that physical truce and kissed him as requested. Lips breaking away from his only to lap away falling tears. Poised staring into violet orbs he’d been lost in the moment they’d met, truth be told. Breathy. Quite the achievement for beings who didn’t need respiration. “Mine, you taste like my better heart. With added vintage. Wipe his blood off your lips with mine.” A single bead of blood for Daniels tasting. Hand teasing his lovers skirt buttons, to touch skin on skin.

Years were stripped away and here they were like nothing had happened battle scarred yet together. That’s all the mattered. Familiar elixir warming him in ways he never expected. Picking him up to better remove clothing, they had to map each others bodies like old times.

Sometime later.

Laying on the plush carpeted floor, clothes strewn around them. Not a stitch left on them. A third seat broken on its hinges. Armand was happily listening to Daniels heartbeat. “I think I may need to redecorate.” Glancing around the mess they’d made. Stretching like a cat.

“Agreed perhaps we should make a passion room. But hey we’re super rich so why spoil the fun. At least in this cinema there’s no popcorn stuck in odd places like that time we got romantic in Palm Springs.” Kissing his makers forehead. Basking in after glow. “I’m pretty sure we’ve thoroughly infused each others blood counts.”

“One can never be too careful. We need to hunt. I don’t want you getting peeky as I was so enthusiastic.”

“Agreed, and I don’t mind at all. Drain me I’m your love muffin.”

Armand wrinkled his nose. “Love muffin. Wash your mouth out! We do need to lock this room up tight upon leaving. In case Cupid Lioncourt takes photos.”

Daniel laughed. “He does have a nose in most situations I admit. In this case it’s just as well. How long do you think it would have taken to jump each others bones, without his ear worm about smell?”

Armand laughed at the phrasing, a throaty chuckle sending vibrations down Daniels chest. “Not too long, possibly quicker if I’d gotten that particular ear worm and we’d gone the route of territorial angry me, with your oh so smart mouth baiting. Then we’d have made up, like old times.”

Daniel snorted. “Are we that predictable?”

“Perhaps…Now how he kept a certain others nose out of this… robust reunion is the story I want to hear…” Smiling into Daniels matching grin.

“Now that story can wait.” Winking and gathering Armand closer again. “Round three?”

#2019 VC Secret Santa #VC #Vampire Chronicles #submission #auburnandamberangel #headfrst4halos

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waters-and-the-wilde · 5 years ago

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vivez (you have 1 life let it Be Gay)

woo okay Fools and Angels stalled out a bit because all the later stuff wants to happen but the in between stuff still won't get its shit together and the later stuff is relying on that for at least some semblance of coherence (also i went on a road trip and went to a wedding and ran away to a farm on the west coast so it was a busy month)

so i'm going to hash around my dumb gay fic headcanons to get back in the swing of things pls enjoy

first of all, i recognize that canon Percy and Marguerite are textbook dumb heteros who just need to talk to each other and fuck knows why i like them so much, but i also used to think queer people were just better at that sort of thing (bc you know I thought that the self-knowledge and courage and ability to see through dumb cisheteronormative expectations that came with the territory would give one an edge) and honestly it's been a bit of a trip to constantly discover the extent to which we're all complete disasters

anyway all this to say, Percy and Marguerite are a matched set of distinguished-disaster bisexuals and peak mlm/wlw solidarity. they both went to boarding school and Mrgt was in theatre so like. they Know what they're about.

(side note back in the day i wanted Scarlet Pimpernel but Lesbians nd it was gonna be Pimpernels and Violets w/ Gwendolyn Christie for Percy and Gugu Mbatha-Raw for Mrgt.)

but honestly while we're here with my old headcanons I rly want POC Mrgt and Armand especially knowing what I know now about Alex Dumas and how many multi-racial folks from Haiti were knocking around Parisian society being wealthy and fabulous

(whole other set of reasons to stand back and sip champagne while letting Crowley loose on Thomas Jefferson)

this adds some whole other considerations that I would need to research mostly because of England being weird and whether Percy and Mrgt could have gotten married in the first place. but like if you were black, France basically was the only promise for freedom. you didn't have other places to go. how much more weight does that lend to Mrgt's decision to condemn de St. Cyr? being willing to make that call because the idea of royalist invasion and having that first lick of freedom snatched away is intolerable? having to struggle with watching those real possibilities get corrupted and torn away but really truly knowing what it was worth to begin with and never quite knowing when to break away from it?

and Armand, who's all in for the same reason, Armand who's smart and passionate and idealistic who gets to help shape the new government only to realize it's becoming a monster and swallowing him up while he's stuck on the inside

whoops i made myself sad

anyway i can have trans guy Sir Percy, as a treat. he's gottn away with it bc he was like four years old and wanted to be a knight and his father needed an heir and he said 'well why can't I be a boy? I want to be a boy I want to be Sir Percival' and his mother was sick and old Algernon Blakeney thought bout it and he went and fudged some things and bribed some nurses and raised bby Percy with private tutors, and Percy managed to make it through boarding school by virtue of being six foot odd of gorgeousness and good at getting people to see what he wants them to see so i guess that makes him bisexual in both the archaic and the modern sense

due to Percy's charisma stats he became the center of the Eton queer penguin huddle, starting with Andrew Foulkes when he realized he wasn't terribly interested in women except that he just thinks they're neat (thought maybe he was gay before realizing men weren't really his thing either, aromantic, now platonically devoted to Percy and the league and Marguerite)

Tony Dewhurst had an entire blazing crush on Percy that eventually settled into a platonic devotion, (okay but have you seen 80s Tony Dewhurst and the way he looks at Percy? it’s like he was taking lessons in Gay Babey from Aziraphale) now in a close relationship with his 'valet' (actually a bf from France who they rescued nd is now in England disguised as Dewhurst's valet so they can be close w/o raising eyebrows)

half the league is their Eton queer penguin huddle tbh, hence the sense of discretion and willingness to risk danger bc life already be like that

fuck it they're all queer except Armand, i'm not sorry and i do make the rules

poor Chauvelin, repressed disaster bisexual, loses half his braincells in Sir Percy's presence because the man's so goddamn infuriatingly attractive and he doesn't know how to process it except as pure loathing and contempt for his enemy and rival, and while we're on the subject, Crowley's slinkiness and conflicting gender cues and background noise aura of temptation also make him feel an awful lot of things he doesn't want to look at too closely, and while we're on the subject, so does Mrgt in a soldier's uniform

(it doesn't help that like queerness was, if acknowledged, thought of as a vice of the aristos in France whereas England's molly community skewed more middle class, and Chauvelin was a marquis' son who's trying desperately to fit in and prove his loyalty to the Republic and Max Robespierre's purity culture so that's a whole extra layer, boy he and Aziraphale need to have a talk)

baby lesbian Suzanne de Tournay had an entire blazing crush on Mrgt but she was a few years older so it was more of a senpai notice me thing. genderfluid awakening from that time she got to go around in disguise as a soldier. marriage of convenience with Sir Andrew? that way Maman approves and isn't constantly overseeing her and they can both hang out with Mrgt on the regular who can introduce her to all the London debutantes. ya girl is french she doesn't give a heck she's gonna be mistress to half the unhappily-married women in London whose husbands have bad teeth

Armand is... straight. it happens. however instead of being the token dumb hetero, Armand is not only a good bro and ally but he's actually pretty emotionally astute, he's just not a schemes-and-layers thinker like literally all the others, and he's reasonably in touch wth his feelings and acts on them which just gets him in a lot of trouble with 'rational' society and furthermore he's the one who reminds people to actually talk instead of playing mind games and that friends is why Armand has the brain cell

the song Killer Queen is heavily based on Marguerite and Mme de Serpens bc of Freddie Mrc hearing Crowley ramble about his time in France thank u for coming to my ted talk

#fools and angels #good omens #scarlet pimpernel #fanfic #where the fuck are my gender tags #queer as in i love you

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here-i-acquit-myself · 5 years ago

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Longest, rambling post of my life. But I have hope that if I write it all down, I can somehow move past it, and then maybe my art, writing, friendships, and relationships won’t suffer anymore.

Some things you should know before I even start:

- I have ALWAYS been poly. I have been in poly relationships since I was 19 (I am almost 27). It hasn’t been easy, I’ve learned a lot and made a lot of mistakes, but I’ve never hidden it from anyone. At this time in my life, two years or so ago, I had two live-in partners and we were a triad. I had been with one partner for seven years, I had been with the other about three. When the subject of this narrative (Louis) and I got together, they were ALSO dating someone else. They had a girlfriend. I had met their girlfriend, I knew they were together and I was fine with it (of course).

- Louis and I are multiple, which some of you probably know what that means without me having to explain it and some of you are probably like ????? the fuck. It’s something I don’t really want to talk about because I don’t feel like defending my head, but if I can boil it down to bare bones for the sake of the narrative, just know that it means both of us come with handfuls of extra people and they have relationships with each other as well.

- Obligatory - there are two sides to every story, this is just mine. I handled a lot of things badly in this situation, but I still need to let these feelings out. I need to feel heard because one thing about Louis is our mutuals will never, ever see some of these things about them. Everyone loves them and thinks they’re a bright spot of sunshine. Which is fine. But it would be nice to be believed after so much public suffering and humiliation.

The Narrative:

I met Louis three (almost four) years ago because we worked the same job. We were friends. I thought they were so cool and just really wanted them to like me. I also had a crush on another coworker (Armand), and the three of us were friends.

About two years ago, Louis invited Armand and I over for dinner and a movie. Louis’ house is very small and only has a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. So we were sitting in the bedroom, on the bed, watching movies. I was extremely nervous because I had such a crush on both of them. (To my knowledge, at the time, Louis was in a monogamous relationship and I respected that, I never made a move). It was getting really late, and after what felt like hours of my working up the nerve, I finally summoned enough courage to hold Armand’s hand. It got better - he WANTED to hold my hand. I was overjoyed, even more so when he leaned over to give me a kiss. Louis was absolutely livid. He got up and left the room, left the house. I wasn’t quite sure why he was upset (maybe he didn’t want us kissing in his room?) Armand went out to talk to him but he wasn’t feeling incredibly communicative. We all ended up sleeping in the same bed anyway, hoping in the morning he would tell us what was wrong. We all had work the next day.

We were all VERY close at this point, so it was unusual for us not to speak at work. Louis did not say a WORD. He did not speak to us at all. He looked like he was going to cry the entire time. Armand and I could not get him to say a word to either of us.

I know this is a whole lot of set-up, but it really sets the tone for the entire relationship.

It comes out at the end of the day that Louis was upset because HE had a crush on ME. And when I kissed Armand it felt like the ultimate betrayal. We all talked about it and it eventually boiled down to, why does it have to be this way? Why don’t I date both of them? I really liked both of them. Armand had very strong feelings for Louis. Louis had strong feelings for me. Armand and I had already expressed our feelings for each other. It seemed like a seamless transition.

And we were all happy! For like, I don’t know, two weeks? Louis started asserting his boundaries. He did not want Armand and I to hold hands while we were all out in public together. He wanted us to keep PDA to a minimum altogether. It started involving the headspace (where X from his headspace did not want X from my headspace to be in a relationship with anyone Armand had). (And, as an extra note, my headspace is full of poly people as well. I have NEVER taken kindly to anyone trying to enforce monogamy on them). Armand and I tried to work around everything, but just a couple months into the relationship it was all too much. With Louis breaking down almost every time I visited him, saying it hurt too much, he could not stand my relationship with Armand, etc. I ended up breaking down and breaking up with Armand, I could not take the pressure, and Louis’ struggles with the relationship and his rules and his breakdowns were haunting me even in bed. It absolutely sucked the joy out of dates and overnights. And in hindsight, I fucked up pretty badly with this one.

After Armand and I broke up, my relationship with Louis drastically changed, and I mean, everything was good for a while. My relationship with my now-husband got back on the rails and started greatly improving (we had been on the rocks for a while), although my relationship with my then-wife was starting to decline (it’s oversimplifying a lot but I’m trying to stay focused on the key points). Louis and my husband (James) started dating each other as well. I was like, this is perfect! The three of us had an intense relationship, and it got very domestic very quickly. We even started talking about everyone moving in together. Even though things were far from perfect, they were just perfect enough that the weird rules and limitations that were still in place seemed like reasonable limits that I was just overreacting to.

This is all glossing over a very important undercurrent: the idea that his mental health was more important than anyone else’s. HIS needs were special, HE needed more consideration, HE deserved special treatment because he has BPD. (Note: he talks about his BPD like I have never known another goddamn person in this world with BPD. I have known several people, including my mother, and none of them act like he does). So in his mind, sure there were rules but there were always to be exceptions at his discretion, because he HAD to be the exception, goddamn it.

And then it just all went hideously South. I am not privy to all of the details of what went wrong (or if I’ve been told the details I have absolutely lost them in the vacuum of my “HIDE ALL OF THAT BAD THINGS” brain), but Louis and James broke up. It was a big time, messy breakup. Now I’m torn between the two houses. I’m spending almost every other night with Louis.

And the breakdowns just get more and more frequent. He can’t STAND that I’m still with James. He doesn’t understand how I could be with someone who hurt him so much (and James doesn’t understand how I could be with someone who hurt him so much, either). He’s cutting again, threatening suicide again. There are countless times when I’m called to his house in the middle of the night, breaking through his door and into his bathroom because he has swallowed a bunch of pills, or because he is trying to cut himself open in his bathtub. There were numerous times where I was calming him down, bandaging him up, taking him to bed. This became like, a weekly occurrence.

And things became bad at work, too. He was ALWAYS blowing up at me at work I work retail, so I would be on the register and he would be blowing up my phone. He would get mad at me if I did not read and reply to his messages, and usually when I did that, I just got so upset that I would cry. I cried in front of customers. I had to excuse myself from the register to go cry behind the building. Sometimes, I would start my shift with him saying “I’m done. It’s over. (RE: We are breaking up)” so I would go through my whole shift with this “we are broken up” argument, although he would still be texting me, berating me, and then by the end of my shift he doesn’t want to break up with me, he needs me, he’s having a panic attack, he’s going to hurt himself. And there were a few times I got fed up and tried to end it myself, but I ALWAYS caved because I thought he was going to hurt himself.

I was just never, never enough. I spent so much time trying to be a good partner and give everyone my attention like 100% of the time I neglected my art, my writing - he was jealous of people I made art or wrote for that I wasn’t even with. I had made a lot of strides with my own mental health but I was having immense breakdowns because I could not take it.

He did not want James and I to get married. He said he would break up with me if we did, even though it made financial / practical sense. (He acknowledged that it did, too, he just did not want it to happen).

(SIDE STORY: James and I are (legally) married. We have not had a ceremony yet because of -gestures to entire narrative-. My then-wife (Claire) and I had a wedding ceremony years ago but never made it legal. During THAT ceremony, our at the time mutual girlfriend attended the wedding and was very supportive of us and our special day. With Louis, I never asked for that kind of involvement, I never asked him to do anything that made him uncomfortable as far as even acknowledging my marriage to James - in the past Louis and I had even talked about having a ceremony of our own, because I believe in celebrating love and flaunting my partners and parties, of course. I did not really even ask for his support or blessing, it’s just I had had such a positive experience with multiple partners supporting each other in the past that this just like - blew my mind out of the water).

I think the last straw was one night, Louis broke a special mug to use the glass to cut himself. He wanted to kill himself. I went to his house in the middle of the night, I don’t drive so James had to wake up our son and drive me there. James drove home, I calmed Louis down, put him to bed, confiscated the glass so he could not hurt himself again and put it all in a bowl. So I’m standing on the porch, in the cold, shivering and barely verbal with a bowl full of broken, bloody glass - taking an Uber home in the middle of the night.

It was like that for a while, stuck in a loop of “we are breaking up - now things are okay - no, things are bad again, we are breaking up - things are back to being okay”. I think the last straw was when he broke up with me on New Year’s Eve. I told him “if you break up with me, that’s it, we are broken up. I’m not doing this anymore”. And it was over. For a little while.

But we still worked together, and feelings were still very raw. I still felt responsible for his mental health. He spent a while avoiding me, he would not talk to me, when he did start talking to me again it was evident that we still had feelings for each other, but maybe he knew I still felt responsible. He would still tell me when he was cutting, when he felt like killing himself. Work was hell for a little while and I felt even more isolated than before. All of my coworkers think he’s great and I knew none of them would believe me if I tried to confide in even one of them what he was putting me through.

I kept trying to distance myself from him and from the things he was doing and saying. One day he called out of work and said he was going to stay home and kill himself instead. I ended up neglecting my shift to call the police and have them show up at his house to do a wellness check. (NOTE: I do not trust police and was very conflicted about calling them at all, but there wasn’t a lot I could do and he said he had swallowed a whole bottle of pills). After they left he was mad at me.

Glossing over a lot - but we did not stay broken up long. We got back together only a few months ago. It was an even more difficult, strained relationship this time around (although I’m not saying that no part of it was good, I mean, we genuinely had some good times and some wonderful aspects of the relationship. It just, as always, gets buried underneath the shit. I really LOVE this man, okay, we have something special, but he rakes my mental health over the coals again and again). Because of his (now non-existent) relationship with James, everything that had been bad before was getting amplified. At this point in my life, Claire and I had ended our relationship and become just friends. James and I were together, and I had another long-distance partner (William) who I had dated in the past and recently we had come back together.

Well, okay, Louis does not really like either William or James. He also does not like it when I casually flirt or send nudes to other people (which I have done my whole life, and have made clear I do, no one comes into a relationship with me ignorant of the fact that I am still in my ho phase and I enjoy recreational flirting and nude exchanges). He wants my nudes to be special for him, he says that knowing other people have seen my boobs makes him sad.

At this point, it does not matter if we are having a bad night or a good one. We could be cuddling and watching a show and he will just turn to me and tell me that he will be sad when we break up, but we are going to have to break up, because he can’t live like this. I would ask him why we are still together if he wants to break up, and he’s like, he doesn’t WANT to, he just knows we will. (That fucks with me? Understandably, I feel). He becomes more and more insistent that James and I break up. Louis wants to be my one special partner and wants everyone else to be a casual side piece. (Even though, EVEN THOUGH, he has cried to me many times about feeling insignificant, about feeling like a side piece, about feeling like a mistress - which I have absolutely paid attention to and tried to remedy at eVERY TURN by giving him way more than I think was fair to my other partners).

Our relationship recently came to a head (again). I have been given the opportunity to move to my hometown (a few hours away) for Cosmetology school. In the beginning, I was not sure of where i was going to be, if I was going alone, or what was going to happen. Louis said he did not think our relationship would survive if I brought James with me. Because my experience talking to him about things as they develop has always been bad (and because our state is in lockdown, I have not been able to see him) I didn’t communicate my plans very well as they developed, and when he heard that James, the baby, and I were all moving together that was kind of it. He asked me “What are you going to do to prevent a breakup?” and I just kind of lost my shit. I was done, so completely done, and exhausted. So I broke it off and haven’t really been texting him. Because if I text him, I get nauseous, and I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks. I’m like, running on four hours of sleep at best most days. His boys will reach out to mine, because he knows my boys are weak and brokenhearted and they will talk even if I won’t. And then he has the audacity to text me, “X is upset at being neglected, but I’ve stopped caring tbh”. And I just feel so fucking godawful all the time. He won’t hesitate to tell me he is cutting, he is going to kill himself, he is drinking all of the time and he won’t stay sober.

I have told him, multiple times, that I need an equal partner. I need a partner who will support me as much as he expects to be supported. He has told me flat out “I can’t do that”.

I am ready to leave this city. There is a lot I did not even talk about, but these are, I guess, the major points I replay over and over in my head when I can’t sleep at night. Maybe I am my own worst enemy for perpetuating the cycle. I know there are a lot of points in the past where I could have brought my foot down and maybe stopped it from getting worse, but I’ve felt stuck, I still feel stuck. And I’m always going to feel responsible. Of course, this is all the bad stuff, it doesn’t really talk about all of the GOOD stuff we have. There is lots of good stuff. But I don’t think the good stuff can hold up against all of the messy, toxic shit. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong?

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buckbarnesjames · 6 years ago

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Chapter Two

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: more discussion of sugar baby/sugar daddy relationships. swearing. alcohol. mentions of sex. steaminess.

Word Count: 3351

A/N: Taglist is OPEN. Feedback is appreciated.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There was no turning back now. You’d agreed to be James Barnes’ sugar baby. The prospect both excited you and made you feel like you might throw up. You had no idea what he would truly expect from you and it left you reeling. The sound of phone chiming interrupts your rumination.

Your car has arrived, a text reads on your phone. You’re confused for a moment as you’d never ordered a car. Then you realise the text is from Bucky’s driver. You quickly grab your work bag and exit your apartment. Walking through the lobby of your apartment building you notice, through the large glass windows, that a black Mercedes-Benz is parked with a man standing at the back passenger door. You walk out of the building and are greeted by the man, “Miss Y/L/N?” You nod and he opens the passenger door. You stand still for a moment, apprehensive. You know that if you get in the car, then your life as a sugar baby for your boss official begins. You take a deep breath, smile in thanks at the man, and enter the car. To your surprise, Bucky is already there.

“Morning Y/N.” He greets you, a thousand watt smile on his face. He’s wearing an all black suit, an obvious favourite of his considering he often wore it to work, and he looks delicious in it. You bite your lip as you drink him in, and he smirks at you as if he knows what’s going on in your mind. “Johnathan, head towards fifth avenue” he says to the man who’d opened the car door for you and who was now situated in the driver’s seat. It takes you a moment to notice the fact that Bucky hadn’t directed Johnathan to head towards the office. “We’re not heading to work?” you ask, finally finding your voice. You were so uncomfortable. Firstly, because this was the most you’d ever seen Bucky outside of work and secondly, because he was now so close to you that you could smell the expensive aftershave he was wearing. Fuck, he smelled good and looked good. A double threat. Given half the chance, you’d probably have jumped his bones right there in the back of the car. You subtly share your head to dispel the obscene thoughts. “Not today. Today, I want you to take this and I want you to spend it on a new wardrobe.” He hands you a black amex card. His fingers graze yours as you slowly take it from him and it feels like a million volts are shooting through your body. You’re sure he heard the gasp that passes your lips as, when you loop up at him again, he’s wearing his signature smirk. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” you ask. It’s the first thing that comes to your mind and so naturally, you blurt it out. “Nothing” he says and you notice the way he subtly licks his lips, “but, like you said to your friends, you want designer clothes and don’t want to pay the price” he winks at you as you glance between him and the black card in your hand.

Before you know it, the car has stopped. The driver gets out and opens Bucky’s door. He smiles at you before stepping out onto the street. A few seconds later, the door on your side opens. You’re expecting to be greeted by the driver but instead it’s Bucky, and he’s offering his hand to you. You steady yourself before taking his hand, the electrical feeling spreading through your body once again the moment your skin meets his. You step out onto the street. It’s bustling with people - half of them on their morning commute, the other half carrying shopping bags. “Welcome to how the other half lives,” Bucky jokes, smiling down at you. You respond by rolling your eyes playfully.

You spend the morning driving around and browsing all the places New York has to offer you. You’re apprehensive to use Bucky’s card at first. “Don’t fight it, Y/N,” he had said, standing behind you and placing his hand on yours, “Here. Close your eyes”, You do it immediately, “And swipe it,” he says as he guides your hand to the chip reader. It doesn’t do much to stop you from feeling uncomfortable at spending so much money, but he does succeed in making you laugh. You were enjoying this new side to him.

Half-way through your shopping spree, Bucky links his hand with yours and begins to drag you towards an expensive looking cafe with the suggestion that it was time for a coffee break. He stops suddenly when he realises what he’s doing. “I’m sorry” he stammers, quickly dropping your hand. “For what, Mr Barnes?” You say, trying to calm him. You can see he’s worried that he’s crossed some unspoken boundary, but you’d actually quite enjoyed the feeling of your hand in his. “For holding your hand. I don’t want to break any boundaries you may have,” he answers your question. You shrug, telling him you don’t mind. Then, you smirk at him and re-link your hands together and start back towards the cafe. Bucky looks down at you, the hint of a smile on his face. Confidence looked good on you. And maybe, just maybe, the attraction was mutual - given the way that you’d reacted to him this morning and how you’re now squeezing his hand as if trying to reassure him. After a coffee - or two - and some lunch, which Bucky easily spends a hundred dollars on without batting an eyelid, you go back to shopping.

You finish up shopping a few hours later. “I’d like to take you back to my apartment, if you don’t mind?” Bucky asks as you’re walking back to the car. “I wanted to discuss some more things with you about this arrangement.” You can only nod in reply, nervous at the idea of being in Bucky’s home - his personal sanctuary. The drive to his apartment is silent, but it’s not uncomfortable. You’re still holding his hand and every so often he would run his thumb over yours, you presume the action is just an instinct for him but it still comforts you.

Bucky’s apartment would be better described as a penthouse mansion. You’re in shock as you stop through the front door. You thought you had a nice place but your apartment pales in comparison to this. The decor is dazzlingly black and white but it’s not as uninviting as one would expect once you spot the little home touches that had been added. “Elizabeth?” Bucky calls out as he leads you through the apartment towards an open-plan kitchen with an adjacent lounge area. A woman, who looked to be in her late fifties, perhaps early sixties, appears by the kitchen island. Bucky smiles at her, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and you immediately recognise it as his professional smile. “Could you help Johnathan unpack the car and take the bags to the guest room?” He asks her. She smiles and utters a ‘yes, Mr Barnes’ before exiting again. “Guest room?” You ask him, swallowing. The thought that Bucky wanted to have sex with him now that he’d spent all this money on you - a grand total of $54,000 - made your stomach turn. You were undeniably attracted to him, that much was sure, but you don’t think you could bring yourself to sleep with him under the guise of a transaction. You could feel tears welling in your eyes and you clenched your jaw, willing them away.

“Calm down, Y/N. It’s not what you think,” Bucky says softly. “This is what I wanted to talk to you about. Well that, and a couple other things. Would you like a drink?” He seems so calm about the whole situation, although you’re not sure why, it eases your mind a little. You nod to him, still unable to speak. Your mouth is dry at the prospect of what he may or may not suggest. Bucky produces a bottle of Armand De Brignac from his wine fridge. He places two champagne flutes on the kitchen island and pops the cork. As he pours the champagne, you step towards the kitchen island, keeping yourself on the opposite side of it so there is some distance between the pair of you. He slides on the flutes towards you, a warm smile on his face. You take it and sip at it tenderly although every fiber of your being is telling you to down it and just ask him for the rest of the bottle. Bucky clears his throat before speaking again, “I’d really like it if you were to move into the guest room for however long we continue this arrangement. Of course, you don’t have to say yes right away, and you can keep your own apartment for when you need space from me, and I’ll gladly take care of the rent” he pauses a moment to take a drink, “I just feel that I can take care of you and spend more money on you if you’re here...with me.” He looks at you expectantly as he continues to drink, you can see the tension in his shoulder disapparate now that he’d said his piece. “Take care of me, Mr Barnes?” you ask. You’re still not sure whether he’s implying sexually or not and your stomach continues to twist itself into knots with nerves. “Yes. I know you don’t need to be taken care of, Y/N,” he addresses you informally, something you hadn’t quite gotten used to. “But, it’s what I want to do. I want to spend my money taking care of you and giving you whatever you desire and more.” The room is thick with tension as he watches you contemplate everything he’s saying. “Mr Barnes, I have to ask…” He politely interrupts you then, “I think we’re past formalities, Y/N, given the circumstances,” he says, smirking slightly. “You can call me James or Bucky - whatever you prefer at any given moment.” He finishes off his drink and pours himself another as he waits for you to ask your question. “Okay, James...I have to ask if this...is this a sexual thing for you? Like, do you get off on spending money on girls?” He laughs. Outright laughs at you. You do your best to scowl at him but the sound of his laughter lights up inside and makes you feel warm. It’s not often that Bucky laughs in your presence and definitely not a full-blown stomach clutching laugh. In fact, you think you’ve only ever heard him laugh three times in the office.

“No, Y/N. It’s not.” He notices you’ve finished your drink and offers the bottle to you. You pour yourself another and take a sip before continuing your line of questioning, “Then what is it?” He places his glass on the kitchen island and slowly moves around it, towards you. When he sees that you’re not hesitant about him being near you, he walks at a normal pace. “It’s practical,” he says, now standing in front of you. You look at him in confusion, doing your little confused head tilt at him. Fuck, he loves when you do that. It makes you look so cute. A stark contrast to what you really are and the context of this conversation. “It’s practical in the sense that attending events and being seen publicly with a woman, will stop people speculating about my relationship status all the time.” You giggle softly, you know it annoys Bucky that people would rather focus on whether the ‘eligible bachelor’ was taken than the work he did at Barnes Industries. “Oh, so basically...you’re using me as a deflection?” you joke, raising an eyebrow at him. He decidedly likes this side of you. Your witty, sharp personality poking through your currently shy demeanor. “You can think of it that way if you’d like. So, what do you say? Will you move into my guest room?” You pretend to mull the idea over in your head for a moment. In reality, the minute he’d mentioned it - and you were sure it wasn’t a sexual thing - you were ready to agree. You’d do anything to be closer to him and see more of his personal side. He waits patiently for you to answer. You definitely drag it out longer than need be but you liked watching him squirm a little. “Yes,” you finally answer. He smiles brightly, his eyes glistening at you. If you didn’t know better, you’d say the smile was that of a man in love. “Perfect. We can discuss a weekly itinerary if you’d like?” You nod , and he re-fills the champagne flutes before leading you to one of the seats in the lounge area. You spend a good hour discussing things such as meal plans, weekly activities and time away from each other. “Of course, you can still have your Saturday drinks with Wanda and Nat but I’d love it if you were to have dinner with me beforehand and that you were to message myself or Johnathan when you’re ready to come.” Bucky says as you discuss how weekends would work. “I’d love to have dinners with you. And of course I’ll message one of you when I’m ready to leave. It’ll save me waiting for a cab,” you joke. Bucky laughs at you. He really does enjoy how much more humorous you had become with him since the fateful conversation yesterday. “How about dinner tonight? I know the chef at Del Posto, and we could have a table ready for us in an hour,” he offers. Wow, dinner with Bucky at a Michelin star restaurant. He really was spoiling you and you’d done nothing to deserve it, he’d simply overheard you and your friends conversing at lunch. You accept and he shows you to the guest room so you can get ready whilst he makes the phone call.

An hour later you’re dressed in a black, one shoulder Saint Laurent dress and matching heels. You kept your makeup simple with a red lip for a little flare. Bucky had a penchant for black and you’d indulged him whilst shopping. Your new wardrobe consisted of mainly black clothing with a few white items here and there. As you re-enter the kitchen, the sounds of Doris Day fill your ears from the surround sound system. Bucky’s back is turned to you, he’s busy typing away on his phone. You hum ‘dream a little dream of me’ as you walk towards him. Your hand gently caresses his back as you turn him around to face you. “Wow, you look amazing” he says as he takes in your appearance and you notice the way he bites his lip. You look to the floor shyly, you’re not used to his eyes on you in this manner. Or perhaps, you’d just never noticed it. He uses a single finger to tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re greeted by his beaming smile as you loop up at him through your lashes. “Hungry?” he asks, the question is fully-loaded with sexual tension but you just hum an affirmation as he wraps his arm with yours and walks you to the front door.

On the drive to the restaurant Bucky is holding your hand again, his thumb rubbing yours. Physical contact was quickly becoming common between you. You wondered if it comforted him to be touched by you as much as his touching you brought you comfort. “Here. I forgot to give you this,” Bucky says, pulling the Tiffany & Co box from yesterday out of his suit pocket. He opens the box and you gently pick the necklace up and unclasp it. “Would you?” you say as you hand him the necklace back. You move your hair away from your neck, and he places the necklace around it. His fingers brush against your neck as he re-clasps it and you sigh at the contact, fireworks exploding exploding across your skin. You turn to face him once the necklace is in place, a smile on your face. “Beautiful” he says, and you know he’s not referring to the necklace. The car comes to a stop and Bucky’s door is opened by Johnathan. He steps out and rounds the car to let you out, offering his hand again. You take it and link your fingers with his as you walk into the restaurant.

You and Bucky are led through the restaurant to a private dining area. Once you’re both seated, he speaks. “I know this is all new to you, so I thought a private area would be better for us.” You smile at the gesture and thank him. The waiter arrives and Bucky orders for the both of you, “We’ll take the chef’s recommendation for the pasta dish, two salads, two of the vegetable-parmigiano, two of the beef roll with the morels, spring onions and hazelnuts and two mascarpone truffles. Oh, and we’d like the wine pairing too”. The poor waiter scrambles to write everything down as Bucky rattles off the order. “The wine pairing is an extra ninety-five dollars per person as well as the one-hundred and sixty-four dollars per plate, sir. Is that okay?” the waiter asks, Bucky nods and hands over the menus that are on the table. “Ninety-five dollars for wine pairing? One hundred and sixty-four dollars per plate? Per person?” You ask, incredulously once the waiter is out of earshot. Bucky smiles at you and tells you to trust him, that it’s worth it. Of course, he was right.

You arrive back at Bucky's apartment a little after midnight. You’re both giggling, buzzing from the alcohol you’d consumed. He’s pouring the remainder of the Armand De Brignac into two fresh glasses when he catches you admiring him. “See something you like, Miss Y/L/N?” he teases you, trying to address you professionally but the drunk gin on his face just makes you both laugh. “Maybe I do”, you say. You’re not sure if it’s the three glasses of champagne from this afternoon or the four glasses of wine at dinner but you’re suddenly emboldened. Bucky moves around the kitchen island towards you and the stool you’re sat upon. He’s right in front of you, so close your chests are almost touching and all you have to do is reach out to him. It’s intoxicating. You’re not sure who moves first but suddenly you’re kissing. It’s a mix of teeth and tongue with little moans from you. Bucky picks you up from the stool, his lips are now attached to your neck and you wrap your legs around his waist. Giggles and sighs tumble from your lips. “We shouldn’t do this. We’re both drunk,” Bucky says, halting his actions but still keeping ahold of you, his breath hot on your neck. “I know but I’ve wanted you since the moment I first walked into your office,” you confess. He kisses your neck again, muttering that he’s always felt the same. He pulls away from your neck to look at you, “Are you sure you want this, Y/N?” he asks and you nod, “I need to hear you say it,” he says. His breath is warm against his face and your nerve endings are on fire thinking about what was to come if you consented. “Yes, Bucky. I want this. I want you.” The way you say his nickname brings something primal out in him, and he’s kissing you again. It’s a mixture of rough and gentle, slow and fast. I” want you right here on this kitchen island. Does that sound good to you?” he whispers as his lips ghost over your exposed shoulder. “Yes. Fuck, yes,” you moan before pulling his face to yours and crashing your lips back together.

If anyone had told you how great sex with James Barnes was going to be, you’d never have believed them.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #ceo!bucky #bucky x reader series

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chnat0wn · 5 years ago

Text

Black Irises

Relationship: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character

05. Son of My Right Hand

The weather was good at the beginning of the morning – the sun rays were peering into individual rooms, breaking through the windows and stroking the faces of the household members. Outside, more and more birds appeared, and the trees and shrubs stood calmly, unmoved by the slightest breeze. Deborah couldn't sit still at home in this state of affairs. She didn't plan a trip to the city, a long walk neither. The garden at the back of the house was enough for her.

Deborah loved to spend her time in the garden. She had lived near the street since she was a child, so her parents couldn't afford to have their own backyard. Besides, they loved the city, so they didn't feel the need to live close to the greenery. Gray buildings, sad streets – they were what Margaret and Robert Rouby felt best about. But Deborah always wanted something more. And although she wasn't related to Polly through blood, she claimed that Deborah had a gypsy need to feel freedom, otherwise she would suffocate.

Deborah loved flowers. She not only admired their beauty, which undoubtedly brought satisfaction. First of all, she liked to care of them – to dig in the soil, replant them from place to place, watch it grow, irrigate properly, and also get rid of pests.

Immediately after breakfast, she decided to go to the part of the garden where fruits and vegetables were usually found. Plants were just about to come to life, for the time being only bare, slightly frozen ground was visible. Then Deborah went to her own refuge – in late spring, summer, and early autumn it was really greeny here. Deborah preferred to be among all those colorful flowers and plants, than inside the house. In general, her house seemed too gloomy, not only in winter or autumn.

“Mum!” she heard Benjamin's voice behind her. She looked back at the boy and raised her eyebrows questioningly. Imperceptibly, she breathed a sigh of relief when it turned out that Benjamin was safe and sound. He came closer, and because Deborah was already kneeling, getting rid of weed remnants, Benjamin lowered his hands.

“What do you have there?” she asked, pulling off the dirt-stained gloves. She looked at the boy's hands. Inside, there was a bird. It wasn't anything extraordinary – not too big, black with yellow beak. A blackbird probably. And although Deborah had always considered all kinds of animals as friends and allies, she couldn't convince herself to birds. It wasn't that she did not like them. She was simply afraid of them. “A bird. Did you just catch... a bird?”

“I found it.” Benjamin said in a calm but defensive tone. “He was sitting on the grass. Uhm, over there!” he turned and nodded to the lawn a few meters away. “He cannot fly. Can I take him home? We have to do something!”

Deborah raised an eyebrow and looked closely at her son.

“You sure you only ‘found’ it?” she asked.

“Of course I only found him!” he nodded hastily. “What do you suspect me about? You think I stole him from the nest? Why the hell do I need a fucking bird?”

“What did you just say?!” Deborah opened her eyes wider.

“A bird?”

“No. Before a bird.”

She watched her child's face for a moment. And she was completely shocked. Her little, sweet boy has started using words that came to her completely naturally. But Deborah was a grown woman. She was sure, however, that she would never say anything similar in the presence of Benjamin.

“It was John, wasn't it? Or maybe Arthur? Oh my God, Tommy? No, it is not possible.” she shook her head slowly. Benjamin laughed loudly, making sounds that rewarded all curses, and then went towards the entrance to the house. He was only a child and already playing with her, testing the limits of her patience. “Fucking John Shelby.” Deborah breathed helplessly, pursing her lips.

The smells from the kitchen indicated that the dinner was coming up. Deborah told Armand that their guest was eating according to different rules. Armand preferred to experiment, so unfamiliar smells scattered all over the house. It even reached the bathroom, where Deborah currently was. She was sitting in the bathtub, holding a glass of whiskey. Only a few days ago, she promised herself that she would not touch alcohol in the near future. However, she needed to relax before the next meeting with Alfie.

Before entering the bedroom, Deborah brought the edge of the glass to her lips and tilted it, pouring the remains of the drink into her throat. She met Biagio in the room. He was standing in front of her dresser, looking at the cosmetics Deborah was usually using.

“Clever.” he said, lifting the packet of powdered pigment. He turned and looked at her. “It will be useful for you today. I really care about cooperation with Solomons. So you have to be a good girl.” he said, approaching Deborah slowly. “Because recently you really disappointed me with your unexpected trip.” he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Deborah held her breath, but she couldn't look away from Biagio's brown, magnetizing eyes.

“I was at Ada's.” she finally gave up. She shrugged indifferently and lowered her eyes for a moment. When she lifted them again on her husband's face, he smiled in a way that caused an unpleasant shudder on Deborah's body.

“You're always at Ada's, aren't you?” he raised his eyebrows. Deborah swallowed hard, and Biagio shook his head in disappointment. “Next time, I will not be so gracious. Don't forget about it, okay?”

Deborah nodded. Biagio widened his smile and leaned forward to kiss Deborah's forehead. There was nothing sensitive about it. The kiss was only the sealing of the promise that was made.

“Tell Ben he should be ready in an hour.” Biagio said after a moment.

“Ben?” Deborah frowned. “I thought Ben would stay in his room. That he should lay low, I-...” she said, confused. Biagio raised his finger, which effectively silenced Deborah.

“I decided that Ben will sit with us. I want Solomons to get acquainted with my family. Who knows, maybe someday Benjamin will be doing business with him?” he said jokingly, but Deborah watched him with increasing panic.

“Who knows? I know. He won’t.” she folded her hands. “Biagio, for God's sake. Alfie Solomons is dangerous, you know that well. Dinner with... with a gangster is not an event for a little boy.” she said cautiously, stepping closer. Biagio tightened his jaw.

“I made a decision, understand? Whether you like it or not, Benjamin will have dinner with us tonight. In the company of Solomons. He will not be eternally a ‘little boy’. One day he will grow up and I won't support him for the rest of my life!”

Biagio breathed heavily, clenching his hands into fists. Deborah looked away and bit her trembling lips, not to say a few words too much. If Biagio ever wanted to involve Benjamin in his clan, Deborah had to think about the right steps to save her son from such a future.

“Adjust yourself.” he added. “Otherwise you will regret that I haven't killed you yet.”

Deborah watched Biagio leave the room. He slammed the door, and Deborah shuddered under the sudden, loud sound.

She didn't mind Alfie, but she wasn't sure how he would behave in the company of any child. After the last meeting with him she felt badly. She did not want Benjamin to know this side of Alfie. And she had the feeling that a man who could become a role model for her son will never come back. She wasn't ready to introduce Alfie to Benjamin.

“Debbie!” Biagio's loud calling reached the upstairs without any problem. Deborah extinguished the cigarette in the crystal ashtray in her husband's office and let out a last cloud of smoke. She stood up and involuntarily smoothed down the navy blue dress she wore. She went to Benjamin's room and took him floor below. As they were going down the stairs, Benjamin took her hand and clenched tightly. Biagio had never insisted that Ben accompanied them in any business-related dinner. It was clear, then, that Benjamin was nervous.

“Hey, what happened to that bold boy from the garden, hmm?” Deborah raised an eyebrow. Benjamin looked at her. “Everything will be fine. Mr Solomons has to deal with your father, not with you.” she winked at him. She led Benjamin to the dining room, where Biagio's voice has been coming from. In the room, however, there were two of them – Biagio sat at the top of the table, Alfie took the seat next to him.

“Mr Solomons.” Deborah spoke, entering the dining room. “Good evening.”

“Yeah, it ‘s.” he replied and he noticed her after a moment. “It ‘s.”

Biagio got up and walked over to Deborah quickly. He wrapped his fingers around her forearm, pulling her closer.

“Take care of our guest.” he ordered, and without any explanation he left the dining room.

Alfie was staring only at Deborah, as if they were in the room only by themselves. His face expressed nothing but boredom. Or something very similar. Deborah watched him too. He looked a bit different than when she saw him in the bakery. His hair wasn't such a mess, and instead of a crumpled shirt, a snow-white collar jutted out from under his neat vest. Deborah also noticed the glasses stuck in the vest pocket. Practices in his father's jewelry store had to affect Alfie's eyesight.

Solomons glanced at Benjamin as he moved behind Deborah. Alfie looked at the boy, and his face took on a grimace of disgust, irritation and disorientation. Deborah has never seen so many conflicting feelings accumulate in one place like a human face. But Alfie perfectly combined it into a quite coherent whole. Because these emotions didn't pass successively, one after the other – they suddenly appeared, all at once.

“What ‘s that, eh?” he asked, looking up at Deborah.

“It’s a human.” she replied calmly. “But smaller than you. We call that a ‘child’.”

“I can see that, ya frisky fing.” Alfie rose from his seat and grabbed a cane, which was leaning against a chair. Deborah didn't remember Alfie having it with him when she last saw him. “Me back ‘s killing me, mate.” he referred, no problem seeing Deborah's interest. He stood next to her and once again looked at Benjamin. The boy hid behind Deborah. “What ‘s yer name, lad?”

“Benjamin.” he said barely audibly. Alfie nodded. He stared at the boy for a moment until he finally looked up at Deborah again.

“Benjamin.” he repeated. He pursed his lips in a way that Deborah could barely see among the beard and mustache. “Son of my right hand. But he does not have swarthy skin or ‘is daddy’s brown eyes, does he?” he clacked. “My dear Deborah.” he pursed his lips again, and a grimace of anger crossed his face. “What right hand we talking about, eh?”

Alfie was close enough for Deborah to feel the warmth of his breath on her cheeks. He didn't look directly at her, rather at some nearby point, and if he decided to raise his eyes to her face, Deborah would probably faint once again.

“And ‘ow old ‘s yer child as ya called ‘im?”

“He’s ten.”

“Ten?” Alfie raised his eyebrows. “He ‘s fucking ten.” he smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. “So you telling me, right? You telling me this ‘s the reason” he pointed to Benjamin. “why you left.”

Deborah looked away. She took a shivering, deep breath and finally lowered her eyelids. She was convinced that Alfie's close presence was making her dizzy.

“Yeah.” he said after a moment. He nodded, pursing his lips. “Just as I thought.”

Alfie pulled back and returned to his seat, and Deborah felt she could breathe again. Alfie overwhelmed her by his power, ruthlessness and coldness. And he smelled amazing.

“We can begin.” Biagio announced. Deborah looked at him. He appeared faster than she thought.

Deborah adjusted the quilt, wrapping Benjamin. The boy was staring empty into space in front of him, so Deborah sat on the edge of his bed. For quite certain reasons, she looked at him with concern. She brushed Benjamin's hair from his forehead.

“What is it, Benny?” she asked, smiling warmly.

“Mr Solomons...” he hesitated. Deborah's expression changed diametrically in a fraction of a second. She was worried by the fact that Benjamin even mentioned him. They both deserved mutual contact. Alfie should get to know Benjamin, and Benjamin should get used to Alfie. The problem is that Alfie wasn't expressing any willingness for it. Although Biagio was still the biggest obstacle.

“What about him?” Deborah raised her eyebrows. She tried to encourage the boy to continue the conversation. Without specific intentions. Maybe some time ago, Deborah would be interested in what her son thinks about Alfie Solomons. Now – when she knew what kind of person he was – she did not care less about him.

“He is terrifying.” Benjamin admitted. “Really terrifying.”

Deborah smiled a little wider, then nodded.

“You’re right.” she agreed. “Mr Solomons is a bit scary. But you don't have to be afraid of him. He won't hurt you. You have my word.” she added and touched the tip of Benjamin's nose.

“I'm not afraid of him.” he protested immediately, shaking his head. Deborah's brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't say a word, noticing Benjamin's need to justify his position. “Mr Solomons is a very sad man. He did not smile even once, and daddy told him so many funny stories!” he said with absolute seriousness. “That's why he looks scary. Because he is very sad.”

Deborah was silent. Not because she wanted to. She couldn't speak a word. Emptiness filled her head. Benjamin surprised her many times, but never in this way. She even had the feeling that the boy might be right. Not that she would consider it as justification for Alfie's behavior. But thanks to that she could try to understand it.

“I wish I was as smart as you.” she sighed theatrically.

“You don’t need to.” Benjamin shook his head again. “You are very pretty, mummy. That's enough.”

Deborah bursted out laughing. Benjamin seemed to believe in his own words, but he couldn't keep a serious expression when Deborah's lips formed a wide, bright smile.

“Owh, what?”

“Owh, nothing.” she imitated the same tone, wrinkling her nose. “I'm just wondering, which Shelby I should cut off of you.”

“Oh, no!” Benjamin wailed in displeasure. “Anything, but not this!”

Deborah saw no sense in continuing to accompany Biagio. He was sitting with Alfie in the dining room when she left the room to put Benjamin to bed. The only thing she wondering about in all this was whether Alfie spoke a little more than at the beginning.

Leaving the bathroom upstairs – a thin nightgown, a satin robe, no make-up, and her hair falling down loosely – she heard Biagio's voice coming from his office. She was wondering, what she should do. On the one hand, she wanted to know what was so secret that it forced Biagio to change the dining room to a more secluded place. Still, she guessed what would happen to her if he caught her eavesdropping. In the end, she went silently to the ajar door.

“You have good information, Mr Solomons. I worked in New York for a while, so I can do what you asking for.”

“Ya fuckin’ what? Asking you? You?” Alfie's voice was full of disbelief and artificial admiration. “This ‘s fucking agreement, mate. I’m asking you, right? ‘Cause what we have ‘s a fucking agreement.”

Biagio was silent. Deborah smiled under her breath. She had never witnessed anything like it before. It has always been Biagio – the dominant one. This time Alfie crushed him like a worthless cockroach.

“And I want some proof, yeah? Proof of yer loyalty.” Alfie continued. “Somfing very precious for ya, my friend.”

Biagio didn't say a word for several minutes. Deborah couldn't tell what was the reason – the power Alfie emanated or the simple lack of the right words to express his dissatisfaction. Because Deborah knew well that her husband didn't like being treated that way. Nor was he stupid enough to oppose such a powerful man as Alfie Solomons.

“I have no idea what you're aiming for-...”

“Let me enlighten ya.” he interrupted. Deborah recognized the annoyance in Alfie's voice. He was impatient when he had to explain his intentions in-depth. “I need more bakers. Actual bakers. I have a few intrusive, stubborn coppers on me back.”

“I can give you as many men as you like.” Biagio said without hesitation. Once again, there was a silence, in which only Alfie's deep, heavy breath could be heard. He seemed to be even more annoyed than had just been.

“Tell me, Biagio” he replied only after a short time. Deborah could imagine Alfie burning the hole in her husband only with his eyes. “Can yer boys bake?”

Biagio was silent. Again. Standing at the door, Deborah once more stretched her lips in a malicious smile of triumph, even if it wasn't her that made Biagio feel trodden and powerless.

“But yer wife...” Alfie added after a moment. Deborah became serious in the blink of an eye. “Yeah. I need yer wife.”

“Forgive me, Mr Solomons, but...”

“Ah, forgiveness.” Alfie interrupted him, and there was a false enthusiasm in his voice. “‘ow many of us, right, ‘ow many of us are able to forgive? Forgiveness ‘s very valuable virtue, innit?”

Biagio was quiet anew, so Deborah had some time to dig into her own thoughts. What exactly did Alfie mean? He wanted her to work in his bakery? She was aware that Alfie knew about her acquired skills, but she thought it was not enough to work in a bakery. Besides, she was overcome by the feeling that it was not entirely honest and legitimate work. Because Alfie Solomons was not an ordinary baker. Alfie Solomons was above all a gangster.

Regardless of Deborah's own considerations, Biagio was still quiet. She held her breath, listening for answers.

#Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x oc #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine

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alliluyevas · 7 years ago

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thoughts on the whole krupskaya/lenin/armand love triangle (or whatever it was) thing?

First of all “love triangle or whatever it was” is a mood,thanks for putting it that way. Secondly, I have a LOT of thoughts on this andopinions, so you really have opened up a can of worms.

A lot of historians/commentators seem to take it for grantedthat there was an extramarital affair between Lenin and Inessa, but I don’tthink there’s enough historical evidence to make that assumption. Personally, Ithink that they probably did not go as far as having a sexual relationship, butobviously we will never know entirely. That’s just based on my reading of thesituation and the people involved and the historical evidence that exists.

I think it’s pretty obvious what Inessa’s feelings were,like in one letter to Lenin she explicitly tells him that she is in love withhim and it’s hard to get more clear-cut than that. Inessa also quite stronglybelieved in “free love” and open/non-monogamous relationships as a matter ofcommunist ideology and she doesn’t seem to have had an issue with pursuing amarried man, and it does seem like she was the one pursuing him. What is up fordebate is not whether she was interested in a relationship with him, becauseshe absolutely was—but rather, to what extent he reciprocated her feelings forhim and to what extent the relationship between them actually developed.

His letters to herare much more ambiguous—he vacillates between using the formal and the intimatepronouns to address her, which in my opinion could indicate a level ofdiscomfort with the intimacy that had developed between them—that is, he mighthave been backing off because he felt like he was crossing a boundary. He alsobrings up Nadya quite frequently when writing to Inessa, and often refers toher simply as “my wife” which might be a way of stressing their maritalrelationship either to Inessa or to himself. (Most of the references to Nadyaare quite neutral, it’s usually about what she’s been doing or what they aredoing together, they’re not particularly emotionally loaded one way or theother).

There’s also a sequence of letters where she’s telling himabout her belief in non-monogamous relationships and he writes back that hethinks that’s dangerous and the most stable form of relationship is between twopeople who are married and then she blows up at him and accuses him of thinkingshe’s a slut, and he apologizes and says he didn’t mean it that way. Andhonestly to me that does not read at all to me like something a person wouldwrite to their mistress. Like I’m not discounting that people can behypocritical about sex, but seeing as he wrote that TO INESSA it just seemslike they probably never actually slept together.

Also, Lenin was in general not a very sexual person (I feeldirty writing this portion of my response aksjdfergtyhj). He was moreconservative in his attitude towards sex and relationships than most of theother Bolsheviks—not in terms of supporting gender roles, but in terms ofputting a high premium on sexual fidelity and monogamy. In some ways, I thinkhe had very typical attitudes for someone from an upper-middle-class family inthe late 19th century, actually. He also felt uncomfortable withdiscussions of sex, didn’t appreciate sexual humor, and was kind of a bitprudish about the whole thing—he thought some of the other people in themovement focused too much on sexual topics and it should be kept in thebedroom. I’m not sure whether he was repressed/self-controlled or whether hejust didn’t have a very high sex drive or (probably?) both. Also, he almostcertainly didn’t have sex with anyone before he and Nadya got married when hewas twenty-seven. Partially because he was very shy with girls and partiallybecause he was more interested in books and political activism and partiallybecause it does seem like he placed a high premium on being married first. So Ijust feel like someone who remained a virgin until their late twenties probablyisn’t the type to be having sexually passionate extramarital affairs?

However, to give credence to other arguments, he clearly didhave a very strong connection with Inessa, and was very emotionally intimatewith her. So I suppose it’s possible that if their relationship felt strongenough, and since she pursued him and was clearly expressing interest in him,that he might have had sex with her? But again, we just don’t know. Basically,the available evidence suggests that they did have a very close emotional relationship,that she was attracted to him, that he quite probably was attracted to her aswell, and that he was experiencing astrong emotional conflict regarding betraying Nadya. I would argue that it wasprobably like…emotional cheating but not sexual.

With regards to Nadya, who we haven’t discussed much thisfar, she did apparently feel threatened over his relationship with Inessa, forwhat it’s worth. So whatever went on between them, she did feel like he had violatedher trust to some degree. The whole love triangle situation, and all theletters I am referring to, are from 1911-1912, which is the period thatwhatever went on between Lenin and Inessa went on. If they did have a sexualrelationship, it was during that period. After this period, he withdrew fromInessa and seems to have put his energies towards repairing his relationshipwith Nadya. Another thing that is important to recognize is that Nadya’sthyroid issues were getting worse during this period, and she finally did endup having a partial thyroidectomy in 1913 (that is, about a year after he brokeoff whatever was going on with Inessa). Lenin was by all accounts extremelysupportive and protective of her during her health crises and was verysolicitous of her comfort and well-being. I would not be surprised if herhealth issues contributed to his sense of guilt and encouraged him to break thingsoff with Inessa.

A lot of people talking about this love triangle, especiallypeople who do assume that Inessa was his “mistress”, seem to think that he wasbored with Nadya or not in love with her, or say that she was older than Inessaand not as “exciting” or what the fuck ever and I’m really offended by that suggestion.Not to mention that it has very little basis in historical fact, because heclearly continued to care very deeply for Nadya and to see her as his lifepartner. I would say that he probably had feelings for both of them, andultimately chose Nadya, rather than that he was in love with Inessa rather thanNadya or some bullshit. Like…it is pretty clear to me that he did not choose tostay with Nadya out of duty or social convention, but out of love, even if healso loved Inessa.

Also, it doesn’t end here, because a couple years after hehad withdrawn from his relationship with Inessa the two of them sort of…extendedfriendship towards her once more and were interacting with her a lot again,only this time her relations with them seem to be inarguably completelyplatonic. And even though Nadya had initially felt betrayed, she seemed totrust her husband with Inessa later and actually felt a great degree ofaffection and respect for her and the two of them actually became close friendsas well. This indicates to me that whatever was going on between Lenin andInessa was a) over and b) that she had forgiven them for it.

With regards to my personal feelings about this, it reallymakes me mad because even though Nadya forgave him I do feel like he clearlyupset her a lot and violated her trust to some degree and *knife emoji* do notmess with my girl. On the other hand, though, I’m glad they worked it out andeveryone stayed friends. Also a lot of the discourse about this love triangleis REALLY bad and pits women against each other and I’m not here for that. Soeven though I am pro-Nadya I am not anti-Inessa by any means.

Thank you for asking me this and I hope you enjoyed mythoughts and don’t think that I am letting my bias color my reading of thesituation, because I do HOPE that he didn’t actually physically cheat on her.

#this is long as FUCK i'm sorry anon #soviet history #my soviet history posts

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tbsbookclub-blog · 8 years ago

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Diaries of a Hopeless Romantic - Firas Aouinet

Her: What would you do if you were bestowed with a million dollars? Him: *inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, running a hand through his hair* well... That would be the peak of generosity. I've so much in my mind that I don't know where to start. Her: Don't think. Be spontaneous. Say the things that come straight to your mind. Him: Gym equipment. No no. I'd buy a big house with a gym that's equipped with the tools I need. It shouldn't be much, I'd need a bench, a set of dumbbells, a set of resistance bands, a pull-up bar, a couple of MMA gloves, a punching bag and yoga mats. I don't need the fancy machines.

I'd get my driving licence. I'd pay my parents’ debts. I'd buy my parents nice new clothes, take care of my mom's health problems, get her the treatments she needs. I'd invest some of the money in a profitable project, so I could have a stable income. I'd buy lots of books, the ones I've always wanted like the 4 remaining volumes of "series of unfortunate events" , the 4 remaining volumes of "The dragon chronicles" and the whole "The vampire diaries" books set. I'd buy all the healthy food I've always dreamed of eating and all the supplements I need to build my muscles and burn all that stubborn belly fat. And how can I forget about shopping? I may be a male, but I love shopping for new clothes. Vests, boots, oxfords, monk straps, wingtips, designer shirts and *raising his voice in excitement* NIKE MERCHANDISE. I might invest in a gym. If I'm to make money out of something, I might as well invest in something that I'm passionate about. Throw in dancing lessons over here, cross-fitness classes over there, some cardio kickboxing sessions, weight lifting,the whole package. I'd be my own boss and to top it, I'd be a trainer as well. I'd be able to buy watches, suits, shades, ties. I'd have a a whole room just for my clothes. I'd buy a new performance computer with all the gadgets that come along. I'd get the grooming kit I've always wanted. I'd get the fancy facial care stuff. It sounds girly, but it's of paramount importance that I take care of my body. But what I'm mostly looking forward to is... *looking her dead in the eyes with flooding affection and overwhelming awe* buying a plane ticket to Romania to fly over there and spend my holidays with you. *so casually* Oh and a wedding ring.

Her: *staring at him, silent* Him: babe what is it? her: *eyes filling up with tears* what if I said that you only get to have 500 dollars out of the million? Him: *as fast as a thunderbolt* buy a plane ticket to Romania. The rest of the money will be pocket money for our daily dates for my whole staying. her: *tears of joy* I love you. Him: *hugging her* I love you more. *he sighs* all this day-dreaming stirred up some upsetting emotions. Money would solve most of my problems. The general statement about money is that it can't buy you happiness. Money can't buy you permanent happiness because it can definitely buy you a few minutes, hours, sometimes even days of happiness. And let's be honest, there's nothing in the whole vast universe that can give you constant, unending happiness. Hear me out: Even love has its ups and downs. There are break ups, needing space, arguments, quarrels and constant bickering. Even if there were such a thing as a perfect relationship where all those negative factors are taken down to their minimum level, DEATH would kill that happiness. Pun intended *he takes his tongue out at her*. Howbeit, I'll admit to this: love's happiness has to be better than money's, and you're the only example I need for that *he grins at her and she launches herself at him, bear-hugging the life out of him* Would you like to hear about my date ideas? Her: *sniffling* I do babe. Tell me. Him: *putting his index over his pursed lips* hmmmm.... Let's see.. For our first night, you'll be taking me to your favorite restaurant. NO SUSHI though! Just thinking about eating raw fish makes my skin crawl and I want none of that. We'll go for a walk afterwards, maybe we'd check the park you're always telling me about. And if it happens and we find ourselves alone there, we might end up having some fun and we'd finish our fun back at your bedroom. No need to go for the details now or it might spoil the surprise. I've got some new moves that I'm dying to show you.. We'd sleep until late morning the next day, I'd make you breakfast in bed, I'd cook you some of the recipes I learned through an awesome youtube channel called "5-minutes craft", which reminds me that you should definitely check it out, it has extra awesome hacks in about whatever domain that's involved in our daily lives. Since you'll probably have school, I'll sit at home, read a book, write something Or... *a light bulb flashes on top of his head* I'd sneak in class with you, have a taste of what you deal with 5 days a week. Maybe I'll get the chance to prank that pervert Analytical Chemistry professor. Boy do I want to teach him a lesson not to hit on you again. Oh I'll definitely kick Braun in the balls though for ordering you that alcoholic drink the other night. As for Armand... *he narrows his eyes thoughtfully* I'll cook something up especially for him. I might put Cyanide in one of his drinks, or maybe itching powder in his clothes OR I could simply beat the shit out of him, who knows, I'm unpredictable. her: *nudging him in the stomach* Would you stop it? Why do you have to be so mean? Him: *wicked smirk covers his devious face* You wouldn't call me Lucifer if I wasn't, now would you? Besides, it should be fun and thrilling for me since I don't want neither of them to be my friends, nor will I encounter them again. Don't even try to think of one of those almost-impossible-to-happen scenarios where I end up working for one of them or even the both of them because I'd quit my job immediately. Did I say quit? I wouldn't even apply. If anything, I'll have them both work for me and I'll make their lives a living hell just for trying to mess with what's MINE. Her: OH MY GOD I'm dating a sociopath! Him: *faking surprise* Why would you say that? What could I have possibly said that would indicate ME being a sociopath? Her: Your tone. You were so casual about it, no high pitched voices or anything that would imply that you're angry. Him: My self-control training is fruitful! Fantastic! Her: You? Self-control? You've the emotional intelligence of a child! Him: You and me both honey *he kisses her neck*. Now would you please let me get back to my fantasy trip? Thank you! Now where was I? AHA! I was making their lives a living hell. I've taken the liberty to look up tourist sightseeing locations and I landed on a couple that I'd love for us to inspect. Inspect? Why would I use inspect? I guess I couldn't find another synonym for visit. Anyway, Romania is crawling with castles and I'd love to pay a visit to each and everyone of them, have that Dracula experience in the Bran Castle. Maybe if we're lucky, one of us will get bitten and turn the other and we'll live happily ever after feasting on people's blood. Her: My god you're insane. Let me check *she knocks on the back of his skull with her knuckles* No, it's empty. You officially don't have a brain. It's just a hollow empty space in your crane. Him: *completely disregarding what she just said* We'd have to get daylight rings though. Do you know any witches? No? It's okay. There must be a couple lurking around that castle. We'd pay one of them to construct us a 2 for each of us, you know in case we lose one, we'd have the second. If we have enough cash, we'd have 3 made for each of us. Mine will have to look like Stephan's from The vampire diaries. I call dibs on that. Well those castle visits would probably cost us 4 days minimum. We'd spread them across the whole week and in-between we'd go bowling and I won't let you win because I'm competitive as hell. Her: *intercepting his words* As if I need you to win by myself. I've been practicing with Armand... *She suddenly stops mid-sentence and slowly looks up at him all puppy-eyed and apologetic* Him: *his facial features change, jaws clenching, stare hardening piercing through her wide eyes* *in a voice that's calm and almost a whisper* You.are.going.down. As for him, I'll be inflicting the worst of penalties upon him. *a shadow of a grinch-ish grin appears on his face* Now how about we make a bet? Her: *confused* What bet? Him: If I win, you'll be paying for dinner every single night. Hold up, my terms aren't over yet. You'll have to kick him in the balls as hard as you can while telling him not to bother you again with no option of apologizing to him afterwards EVER. If you win, I'll literally do anything you ask of me. You can ask me to be your slave, you can ask me to give up video games, ANYTHING. But mark my words babe: I've a huge appetite in the evening. Her: Why are you this evil? How could I have allowed myself to fall in love with someone as devilish as you? It's like satan went "hmmm I'd like to walk among humans and see what all the fuss god has made is about! Alright I'll shapeshift into one of them and walk amongst them" And TADA here you are. Him: *holding her with both hands by the cheeks* I don't think satan is able to be vulnerable with the only human being he's in love with! *he kisses her* And I'm totally defenseless against you. Her: *sarcastically* Satan is THE master of lies, deception and deceit. You could be doing that just now! Him: *tickling her* you think you're so smug, don't you? Nevertheless, I'm kicking your glorious behind in bowling and that's that because I said so! I'm looking forward to the day where I'm offered 500 bucks babe. *he gawks at her* I love you Her: I love you too!

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