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enchantedblackrose · 3 years

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All the Pieces Pt 2

Sirius Black/Fem Reader

Warnings: light swearing, kinda long, unedited. I broke canon and will probably continue to do so in other parts now?

Part 1|| Part 3|| Part 4|| Part 5

Part 2 of ?

No more secrets from you I would lose to love you And I have never felt so Like a man that's been set free I can spread my arms now - Pieces, Dan Powell

Your questions wait longer still as you watch Sirius step hesitantly into your living room. It's not completely conscious, but you can't stop looking at him. He's so skinny and looks defeated, but then that fresh morning sunlight dances across his face. For a second you see glimpses of the boy you knew years ago.

Sirius clears his throat. The sudden noise startles you and you nearly jump.

"Shower!" You yell, though you're not sure why it comes out as a shouted demand.

"'m sorry, what?"

"I mean, you must want a hot shower?"

Disbelief creeps onto his face. "I would love a hot shower so don't take this wrong, but you must have a hundred questions for me?"

"A thousand actually," you smile, "but they can wait."

Your compassion causes a warmth to fill Sirius that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your presence. He nods his gratitude, not trusting himself to speak.

You direct him to the top of the stairs and inform him of the fresh towels in the linen closet and the second bedroom he may use. Before he closes the bathroom door, you tell him you'll see if you can scrounge up any other clothes for him.

"And then if you want," you say, "we can set those damned robes on fire." Sirius laughs as you walk away.

Never being one able to throw anything away, you know for certain you have some old clothing belonging to Sirius. Not trusting the old rickety steps of the pull down ladder, you apparate to the attic.

"Lumos." The tip of your wand illuminates enough of the storage space that you easily find the light fixture and gently pull on the chain. You put out your wand.

Immediately you spot the desired trunk and the sight of it causes you to draw a sharp breath. Your habit of saving everything while at times like this is beneficial, it often brings you some pain. You sit in front of the trunk, opening it slowly.

Photos and a small midnight blue velvet jewelry box sit on the very top. You pick them up and hesitate before setting them aside.

Next you pull out a large leather jacket, followed by men's pants, several shirts, including tees with the face of David Bowie, another with the Stones, and even one with ABBA. You throw your head back in laughter; you really do keep anything and everything, but this is why. Even these mundane items hold precious memories.

You set the clothes beside you and thumb through the photos: Sirius kissing you on the cheek, Sirius kissing James on the cheek, you and a very pregnant Lily at her baby shower, you and Remus laughing with a pink haired, confused Sirius in the background, Peter attempting to rollerblade, Sirius in his dog form, the marauders near the Whomping Willow at school, you and Sirius slow dancing at James and Lily's wedding. You sigh before gently placing them back in the trunk. You pick up the little box, the delicate fabric still plush and smooth in your hand. But you decide to return it to the trunk without opening it.

Sirius should be getting out of the shower soon and you want the clothes ready for him when he is. You turn off the light before disapparating to the guest bedroom. The clothes were well preserved and a few incantations later they are freshly laundered. You leave them at the end of the bed.

You retreat to the kitchen to prepare brunch. The food is mostly done when from above you hear the water stop, squeaks of doors opening and shutting, the creaking of floorboards and then Sirius barking a hearty laugh. You smile to yourself.

"You always were a pack rat," he says, appearing after a minute. You see he opted not to wear any of the muggle musician shirts, but instead he's in a solid black t-shirt and dark jeans. Both hang loosely on his thin frame. You say nothing about his playful quip, mostly because it's true. You indicate for him to sit in one of the wooden kitchen chairs. "That said where's your engagement ring?"

Your heart sinks as you think to that blue box upstairs.

"Sirius," you warn, your voice low.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. Though you not wearing it was the second thing I noticed about you." He offers a smile, but you don't relent, refusing to dive into this conversation when there's still so many answers he owes. Seeing your hardened expression, he holds his hands up signaling he still means no offense.

You sigh. "What was the first thing?"

His grin widens into a full smile. "Your eyes of course. They're just as I remember. Beautiful, full of goodness and emotions. I could always tell what you were feeling."

Despite yourself, you feel heat rise to your cheeks, blushing over Sirius Black's words like you were still a schoolgirl. It's mortifying to adult you and you take a large sip of orange juice to avoid eye contact.

Sirius smirks slightly, but begins to eat. The array of food mimics a small buffet: chocolate chip muffins, pancakes, bacon, toast, oatmeal and scrambled eggs. A glass pitcher with orange juice sits beside jams and butter.

Sirius takes more than a bit of everything. A mostly comfortable silence falls over the table as two of you eat. Even when you have finished, you refuse to bombard Sirius with questions, allowing him to enjoy the meal.

Finally, getting his fill, he peers at you across the table. It's finally time for you to learn the truth.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything," you reply without missing a beat. And so Sirius starts with Peter's betrayal ("literal filthy rat! How could he?" you cry) and ends with knocking at your door.

Your eyebrows furrow. Sirius told you his story and you're still left with questions.

"What's on your mind?" He asks knowingly.

"How did you know where I was? Remus stays here once in a while, did you know that? What's Harry like? Merlin, Peter escaped? He's out there free and you're...do you think he knows where You Know Who is?" You rapid fire questions without thought or pause, but Sirius chuckles.

"I can only answer one at a time, darling. Slow down. Breathe, maybe. I'll answer them all." He shifts in his chair, leaning back slightly. "Dumbledore came to that tower where I was held and told me, in his way, that I may have a friend here. That he would send an owl to that friend explaining my innocence. Remus and I had little chance to chat dealing with that treacherous rat, and Snape," he sneers "and the full moon, of course. But I am glad to know you and Remus maintained your friendship," he pauses as if wanting to say more, but thinks better of it.

Both a sad and happy smile plays on his lips as he answers your next question. "Harry is a carbon copy of James, with the same knack for trouble, though he has Lily's eyes. I'm hoping he has her common sense, too. He's got a good head on his shoulders and the right sorts of friends surround him." Sirius's expression goes dark. "Peter will go wherever he thinks he'll be protected. Voldemort is out there, and I'm willing to bet Peter will do anything to get to him."

Another silence falls over the two of you and you shudder at the prospect of Voldemort returning.

"I'm sorry if I asked too many questions," you finally say after a long moment.

"You didn't."

"You're welcome to stay here. For as long as you need."

"I'd like to. I'm not sure how long, but a couple nights at least if it's no trouble."

"It's no trouble. Er, does your hippogriff need anything?"

"Buckbeak? Nah. There's plenty for him to hunt and he's free to roam a bit, right? I'll introduce you two later."

You laugh. "I'll show you to your room. You must be exhausted."

He catches your wrist before you walk away. His touch makes you feel as though you're on fire. You ignore the sensation and look Sirius in the eye as he speaks. "Thank you. Your kindness is truly unmatched, y/n. Always has been." You don't know how to respond. As if on cue, he yawns and then frowns. "I haven't asked anything about you."

"There will be time for that later. C'mon." You smile reassuringly but mentally you're thankful to prolong any more heavy conversations.

Sirius follows you up the stairs into the bedroom. Your eyes scan the room and you frown. The pale green wallpaper accented with tiny pink rosebuds and the bed donned with oversized blankets and half a dozen throw pillows is a stark contrast to Sirius. You mumble something about not being able to redecorate this room just yet. But Sirius just smiles. You draw the curtains shut in an attempt to block the midday sunlight.

"I think you should have everything you need? Of course help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I'll head to town to get some things."

His face is solemn. "Y/n, stay with me?" He clears his throat. "I mean...will you. Please?"

Wordlessly you nod. You let him climb into the queen sized bed first. Once he's settled, you get in, laying next to him. He moves you closer. Your head rests on his shoulder. He breathes in your scent as his arms wrap loosely around you. You drape an arm across his chest, assuring him his touch is welcomed. His grip tightens slightly as his breathing slows. You watch the rising and fall of his chest until your eyelids flutter shut.

Light tapping on your front door pulls you out of your dreams. Confusion hits first as you're heavy with the weight of a man's arms around you. Sirius. You smile as you become more awake, remembering the moments just hours ago. The knocking grows louder. Urgent, even. Panic sets in.

You shake Sirius awake. He bolts upright in bed, his breathing labored. You place a hand on his chest to calm him. For the moment at least. "Someone's at the door." You tell him in a harsh whisper . Sirius's eyes widen. "Transform," you urge. "And for Merlin's sake stay here." He wants to argue, but knows you're right. You wait until he becomes a large black furry mass of a dog. You close the bedroom door behind you, earning a low whine from Sirius in the process. You hurry down the stairs, clutching your wand in your dominant hand. Fear courses through your veins. You feel your heartbeat quicken with each step.

Drawing a deep breath, you swing the front door open. The sight nearly stops your heart.

"Finally y/n. Is he here?"

Taglist: @oingo233

#sirius black x reader #sirius x you #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfic #adult sirius #sirius x reader

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years

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Imagine:

Erik sneaking into the readers phone buying her all the things she has saved on her wishlists (Amazon, Fashion Nova,) etc.

Sort of for the holidays. CUTE AND FLUFFY.

Erik was trying all day not to be sneaky with the shit but fuck it, Y/N was his baby; his everything so it was only fit to be a sneaky nigga for a second.

She works so damn hard. Such an independent black woman with an education. She never let Erik spoil her because she would always remind him that she could take care of it. And here she was, saving shit on her wishlist to purchase for later. Y/N knew Erik had bread. He didn’t understand why buying her anything she wanted had to be an issue.

“Hey Babe,” Erik was seated on the bed, back resting against the headboard.

“Yeah,” Y/N was busy scrubbing her face down with some exfoliating shit that Erik loved because it smelled like chocolate.

“What you want for Christmas.”

Y/N looked over at Erik with a soft smile, “whatever you can afford to get me, Erik. You know I don’t need you to buy me everything under the sun,”

“But if I could I’d by you the sun, shit, the whole fucking world,” That smile he loved was brighter and better than the last one she gave him. Y/N had him sprung; head over heels.

“Babe, stop making me all fluttery I’m tryna clean my face off.”

“Hurry up, I miss you,” Erik gave her an air kiss, “you’ve been in that bathroom too long, girl.”

“So damn needy,” she teases.

Y/N’s phone starts to ring, Erik teaching over to pick it up. With a loud groan, he tosses the phone next to him, allowing it to ring on purpose.

“Who is it?!” She walks out of the bathroom, reaching over the bed to grab her phone only to be pulled onto the bed and in Erik’s lap. She squeals, Erik placing kisses onto her wet cheek. She grabs his face, pulling his face away from hers so she could properly glare at him.

“So...this is your way of getting me on top of you, huh?”

“Anything to get you on me,” He places his lips on her neck, “you smell so fucking good girl I could eat you.”

She starts giggling from Erik’s tongue on her neck, squirming in his lap. She was creating a lot of damn friction. She was starting some shit Erik would gladly finish. Just looking at her with a T-shirt wrapped around her curly wet hair, his old military shirt on like a night gown, his name on a gold plated necklace around her neck, skin so soft and smelling tasty, she was his undoing.

Now, Erik has one arm around her waist, making her look down at him with his other hand on her chin. He rubbed his thumb there before placing a few soft, very tender kisses onto her lips.

“You never answered my question, what you want for Christmas?”

“Um,” she played with his fathers ring that hung from a gold chain on his neck, “Baby, I don’t know. You don’t have to get me anything. You always get me shit that I don’t need.”

“I’m getting you something, fuck that. If it gotta be a surprise then that’s what it’s gonna be.”

She kissed her teeth, “You spoil me too much.”

“You’re my little brat, I gotta spoil you.”

“Haha,” she sarcastically laughs, “whatever big head, buy me my sushi!!”

Y/N lifts from him, Erik smacking her ass while she walked away and out of the bedroom. With her gone, Erik quickly grabs her phone, entering it with no problem since he knew her passcode was his birthday. He found the Amazon app, going to her wishlist. She had a few items in there that she really wanted but didn’t purchase. Erik shook his head at that. He could have bought her all this shit.

She wanted a new sewing kit since she was always making sweaters and shit, Apple Watch Series 5, some Powerbeats for when she went to the gym he assumed, and a crock pot. Erik purchased ALL of that shit in one swift motion. He made sure his card info was linked to her Amazon account and he had Prime too so that was a plus. Erik looked up at the doorway of the bed room to make sure the coast was clear.

“Babe, what you doing?!” Erik yells.

“Making some brunch. You wanted French toast, right?!” She yells back. The sound of pots and pans confirmed it.

“Yeah...yeah I did. Thanks, baby!”

Erik went back to being sneaky. He pulled up her Fashion Nova app. This girl was a Fashion Nova Queen! She probably owned every pair of jeans they came out with. She always talked about wanted new dresses and she had a lot in her wishlist so Erik picked out however many he wanted to see her in. Sweater dresses, mini dresses, sun dresses, a few formal ones, bodycon dresses, any that Erik would love to see his woman in.

“Shit, she need some new lingerie too.”

He was getting real happy with the online shopping. Now, he was on the Savage Fenty site, buying Bodysuits and teddies, corsets and bustiers, Babydolls, garters, and a few sexy accessories like paddles and pasties. Thank God Erik knew what size his woman wore in everything. Doing this made him feel excited. He couldn’t wait to see how shocked she would be when all this shit arrived. Now he wanted to buy her some Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Gucci...

“Damn, she about to have a new wardrobe fucking with me,” Erik smiles to himself. Tossing her phone on the bed, Erik was now on his phone buying her some other shit that he wanted gift wrapped with pretty red bows for Christmas. He didn’t care how much money he dropped on his girl, that was his baby. Satisfied after about another 30 minutes, Erik finally gets up from the bed, walking into the kitchen to find his girl twerking with a spatula in her hand. He snuck up on her, dancing behind her while she dipped low.

“Erik!” She pushes him back with her ass, “Babe, you scared me.”

“Aww, I’m sorry,” Erik was in love with the little pout she gave him. He placed kisses from her cheek down to her shoulder.

“You forgive me?”

“For now,” Y/N flips the French toast, “What were you up to in there anyway? I hope you weren’t watching Disney Plus without me.”

“That’s a fucking betrayal, I would never do that shit to you.”

She gave him a look before rolling her eyes, “Mhm I saw you watching Nightmare Before Christmas!”

“We can watch it again with our food,” Erik reaches over to steal a piece of turkey bacon.

“It ain’t the same.”

He laughs at her overly dramatic response.

“Stop acting like that, girl.”

“No, because we were gonna watch that one together!”

“Listen, I already have something in the works for you so you won’t be mad we didn’t get to see Jack Skeleton bitch ass together.”

“Don’t talk about him, he’s cute.” She scrunched her nose at him in a teasing manner.

“So I’m not cute?”

“Your sexy as hell, but Jack is cute.”

This girl had him whipped. He kept kissing and holding onto her, so in love with her. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when all those things he bought for her arrives. Now, if only she let him buy her a Jeep.

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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supersoldiersruined-me · 5 years

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Sinful Dance

A/N: This is my very belated challenge entry for @siren-kitten-his 2k followers challenge! Congrats again love! My prompt was the Lust sin. I took a different approach to my normal writing. The whole text is the same story, but cut into the five senses. Every other part changes pov between Bucky and reader. Warnings: Pining? Dirty talk, swearing, implied sexual situations Word count: 3.7k Additional prompt: “Your lips are getting really close to mine.” from an ask.

Main Masterlist | Challenge Entries Masterlist

- Sight -

A squeaky door slides in front of him, indicating his arrival, fifteen minutes late to the monthly meeting. He grunts as he takes his place between Steve and Nat. A grumpy Tony sits at the end of the oval table, flipping through his binder, not paying any mind to the impatient crew around him. Neither Steve’s pen tapping nor Pepper’s shoulder nudge take him out of his focus. Focus that has the cold room feeling even more tense, and the people in it even more fed up of the eventful week behind them.

It’s a shy Peter Parker who breaks the silence, “Guys, I just really want to, um…”

“Queens, don’t sweat it.” With a captainesque smile, Steve proceeds to reassure him.

“We always have your back,” adds Carol over the hologram.

After a shared laugh over the poor boy’s mishap, the meeting goes on accordingly without too many interruptions. Notes over the new weapons and tech are handed, along with old-men jokes from Nat towards Steve and Bucky’s ever-so-astonished faces. The plans and maps from their regular intel seem to satisfy everyone; Bucky is the first up, ready to leave for a much needed shower and sleep. He stops short before Pepper can even begin to introduce what has a cold shiver running up his spine.

Standing there behind the glass doors, a young woman clothed of the prettiest silk blouse, tucked in a pencil skirt waits for her cue. She walks in, keeping her eyes on the ground as she takes a deep breath. He looks at her, at the way her hair waves over her shoulders. Preppy glasses frame her face and he’s ashamed to admit he wants to paint them with arousal. Weak in the knees, he retreats to his seat, the room suddenly closing on itself, becoming warmer by the second. Her shaking hands set a pile of paperwork in front of Tony for him to sign, then she straightens herself, hopeful eyes finally daring to look around the room. His insides shake; he wishes someone would strap him to the chair because he’s not sure how long he can handle himself before he’s gotta get his mouth on her. It’s grotesque. It’s new. He has no clue what took hold of him.

“This here is Y/N Y/L/N. Thank you, miss.” Tony nods her way as he flicks his pen open, his gaze running through the contracts. “If you have any orders to make for outfits, gear, what ever really, you go through her. And no funky shenanigans, please.” She smiles shyly and scans the room, brushing her nerves aside to make a good first impression. Bucky watches her wipe the palm of her hands over the jersey material of the skirt that’s so tightly hugging her bubbly behind. He wants them on his chest, his stomach, his thighs. He wants them around his d-

“James Barnes!” Nat whisper-screams into his ear, eyes shooting arrows at him. He has the nerve to look at her in wonder. Not concerned by the nature of her accusation. A chuckle on his left, the usual that comes before a snarky remark, finally has him realising something is genuinely wrong.

“Thought your arm was the stiffest thing you owned. But dude,” Sam jokes around, his hand on his teammate’s shoulder as he slowly exits the room, saluting the young lady with a military wave.

Her eyes meet Bucky’s then, and she lets them fall down his features, until they grow wide at the bulge in his sweats. He’s ashamed, caught red handed as he flattens himself the best he can. He wants to run. But there’s a rope tying them together he just doesn’t know how to rip; doesn’t want to anyway. So he stays there in his chair, rolling so he’s at least facing the other way, and waits for everyone to leave before he can make a move.

- Smell -

The sun is down, enabling Y/N to relax and get ready for bed. She was given her room before they had finished renovating it, so apart from her bed sitting in a corner, she has to use the common facilities for another week or two. She walks out in nothing but a thick robe - a neat embroidery of her name sits over her left breast - and heads towards the gym’s bathroom with her toiletry bag. Her sleepiness has her walking through the wrong door and into the men’s room, which she only notices once she walks by the row of urinals against the left wall. She shrugs with a soft sigh, but proceeds. It’s late and who’d be around anyway?

The stalls are made of tall, expensive ceramic walls that even the supersoldiers can’t top. They have actual doors rather than cheap curtains. The only thing joining them is the small gap on the ground where the water runs to a single drain, and another about a foot down from the ceiling to allow the steam to dissipate.

She turns the water on from the separate cubicle before taking off the robe and stepping in, letting the warmth soothe her tense muscles; she hadn’t thought this day would be as stressful as it has. She’s halfway through rinsing her hair when the door slams shut behind hurried footsteps. Her breath hitches in her throat. She freezes. It’s quiet for a minute until the water from the neighbour stall starts running. She stays under the stream, not saying a word and hopes she doesn’t get in trouble.

“Lavender?” His voice is deep and raspy. She’s not sure she heard this one yet. “Guess you forgot your stuff and had to take the samples, huh.” He adds a chuckle to his remark. She scuffs, thinking it would give her away if she laughed with him.

The cap of his shampoo bottle snaps, and slowly the scent rushes through the room, through her senses, to finish its journey between her legs. It’s rich and spicy. A hint of teakwood lets her know this isn’t regular drugstore shampoo. He had it made for him. To fit his needs, to smell like the woods with a faint vintage charm. Only one man in the room earlier could enjoy such details.

Bucky. The man she had read about and researched. Twisted things about him she never understood seemed to be what fed her hunger. He had a je-ne-sais-quoi that drew her in. She’d managed to put it aside; closing books and web browsers was an easy task. Unlike her current situation.

Her body trembles at the scent. Her slick fingers begin to knead into her skin with a mighty need. He’d be the death of her if she didn’t leave the room quickly, but with her head resting on the wall between them, she lets her hand succumb to the craving. She focuses on the sound of his hands rubbing over his hard body. Of the soft hum of satisfaction when he passes over a sore spot. The image of his hard cock in his sweats surfaces. She had never seen something so big, never owned a toy that looked like him in the least. He’d be a new sensation she’d have to have once in her boring life.

She has to bite her cheek to stifle the moans that threaten to give her sinful actions away. Her fingers - now clean - squeeze into her core, pumping in sync with the motions of his hand on his dick that she pictures in her mind. She’s quickly building her orgasm; the inevitable cry of betrayal turning her on even more. She holds on as he turns the water off. As he ambles out of the room and she swears he’s trailing on purpose. When her thumb flicks over her clit just right, Bucky walks out (finally) and she falls to her knees, sitting on her feet with her forearm on the cold wall - her head rests on top of it as she bites down her climax. The soap makes it hard for her weak legs to keep steady as she attempts to get back up. Her hand reaches for the robe, too out of this world to care about drying first. She brings the thick material to her face, hiding her blush from herself as if it was going to erase what had just happened. She wouldn’t handle this much longer. What ever had her feeling this way needed to stop. Or did it?

- Hearing -

His heavy body drops to his bed, making the headboard smash onto the wall. A rather thin wall he shares with Steve - the poor boy. His mind fails to recall the last time he kept his friend from sleeping. Too long, he thinks. Much too long. Y/N comes to his mind then; her soft features and the faint darkening of her eyes at the sight of his appendage. The way her hair would feel between his fingers, bunched up as he had his way with her until they matted on her face. He knows he’ll never get a second chance with her. He’d blown it. So it’s him and his imagination against the odds, but tonight exhaustion has the best of him before he can venture his hand down his pants. He’d have a hard time rushing his blood to where he needs it anyway.

He’s up in a heartbeat the next morning, refreshed and feeling dapper. He walks out of his room covered in nothing but another pair of sinful sweatpants - commando, of course - and one of his tight sparring t-shirts. The smell of fresh coffee and burnt toast welcomes him into the kitchen area, where everyone seems to have settled for brunch. As usual, he’s the last to show up, but his serving along with his double mimosa wait in front of his assigned seat. Placed on its right is another flute of liquid sunshine, a small plate with a half-eaten croissant and a notebook stretched to its limit with notes and clippings and whatnot. He steps towards the table and sits. Y/N fills the seat beside him a minute later, acting casual with a little nod hello.

From the corner of his eye, Bucky notices the oversized white t-shirt she most likely wore to bed. He’s sure she’s wearing shorts but most of them are covered by her top, leaving her smooth legs on display. He’s salivating, and it has nothing to do with the thought of ravaging the pile of bacon. He dares turn around slightly. Just enough so to see her licking the excess chocolate that’s dribbling from the croissant onto her fingers. He forces his eyes shut, his fingers soon digging holes into the fabric of the chair. Then when he thinks he’s gained control, a whisper of a moan escapes her lips when the sweetness hits her tongue, proving once more his infuriating vulnerability. He grabs his plate and he’s up in a flash before his body betrays him again, almost knocking Wanda to the ground as he shuffles around the island. With a lamentable excuse, he disappears into the hall towards the living quarters.

The smell of barbeque lingers in the air as he steps onto the rooftop a couple hours later. He sets the yoga mat down by Bruce’s experimental garden; he had grown fond of this hideout over his healing process. He’s slowly winding down, breathing in and out like Nat had taught him. With a new draft of wind comes the scent of the flower pots that bathe in the sun next to him. He remembers the sweet smell of the flowers his mom kept around the yard; magnolia, lilac, lavender… Lavender?

His eyes scan the surroundings. Lavender doesn’t grow in pots, he reminds himself. He has a look around the yard, as if he didn’t know the place like the back of his hand. Curiosity has him on his feet and roaming around to find the source. He feels a pang to his guts when his sight falls onto Y/N. She’s sitting on a lounge chair, alone. Over the back of the chair he sees one of her legs folded over the armrest, the other is bent at the knee towards her chest. The same white shirt covers her top but her hair is now loose from the messy bun she sported earlier. He watches it dance as the wind carries through. He closes his eyes and it hits him; she was the mysterious man in the shower the night before.

His mind runs wild at the thought of her naked body. At the water running over her skin, tickling her every inch. Or the fact that she must have heard him relieve himself, the squishing of his movements unusually fast for someone who’s cleaning up.

“Fuck,” he hears her clear as day; she just moaned the word out in the open. He’d walk closer if he didn’t have enhanced hearing. There’s another soft moan following and he’s going wild.

“B-Bu,” he shivers. “James, ah, please!” He stands there unable to move as he listens to her calling out his name. Her head falls back onto the chair and her other leg spreads out, mirroring the other. He curses himself because he can hear just how wet she is. He has to bite his lip to prevent his own begs from spilling out.

“So good,” she continues. Another finger slides by the others. He could tell she’s pumping fast with his eyes closed if he wanted, but seeing her shoulder bounce seems to prove he’s not so wicked after all. There is no mirage here and he’s on the verge of snapping his restraint. His sweats allow him extra room for his arousal but there’s no hiding it. His back rests on the brick wall of the staircase now. It’s cold and he needs it. Bad.

“I’m gonna,” No. Please don’t. “I’m gonna come Bucky,” she whimpers. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want her to. He also doesn’t want this to end. Until one of them makes the jump, they’d be dancing this agonizing dance and those little moments are all he’s going to get. She’s right there though, he hears her gush. He rushes into the stairwell. He doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t want to break the perfect bubble he’s put around her. There’s one way he’d let himself hear that and it’s if he’d be the cause of it. Literally.

- Touch -

She pulls her leggings up, hips swaying with the music on her TV. It’s late and she needs the extra motivation to get her ass to the gym. So she struts down the hall, waits for the elevator and makes her way to the basement. The gym’s door is ajar when she gets there, a stripe of light colours the linoleum floor at her feet. She shrugs it off; she made it this far, might as well go through with it.

A tall, square figure gets up from a bench on the far end of the room. Hair well sorted in a bun. White tank-top snug against his back. He turns around and their eyes meet. Her hand reaches for the handle on her way to desertion; a reflex she would have later regretted.

But, “Wait!” He calls after her. The muscles in her arm become frail making her hand fall to her side. She looks at him again, taking longer this time. Allowing herself to indulge and he’s letting her. He wants to take a step forward but she waves him off.

“Bucky, I can’t…” Her words are weak.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I can either,” he confesses. They sigh in sync. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She watches his expression of defeat and swallows the lump in her throat. She walks over to the mirror, keeping a safe distance between them. Her eyes meet themselves as she scans her face. They close with another sigh - her forehead leans against the mirror. Fists clench.

“I don’t know either, Bucky. All I know is whatever happens next scares the shit out of me. It’s like Schrodinger’s cat. Open the box. Taste the fruit, and you’ll know. But there’s an outcome I don’t want to face...” She hears Bucky’s shuffle. He’s right by her when she opens her eyes, startling her. She looks at his reflection now. Both of them silent as they go through each other’s doubled features. A wave of spice hits her nose just as she manages to steady her breathing. She bites her lip, eyes looking at his in the mirror. Her finger lifts until it reaches the image of his bicep. She slides it down, the soft squeak of her fingertip against the hard surface makes them shiver. He mimics her action and draws along the line of her hip. He’s bending so low she can feel his breath on her shoulder.

She grants herself to turn around, tired of faking. Tired of hiding her desire and whatever comes with it. He’s right there and accessible and she’s spiraling down a panic attack until he steps up and breaks the tension. His warm hands grab onto her forearms, effortlessly pulling her close to his chest. She’s putty. She’s everything but the confident and sexy woman she wants to be right at this moment. The speed of his heartbeat under her palm lets her know he’s not at his best either. The depth of his eyes sucks her in and heat travels through her, blushing her cheeks.

“Your lips are getting really close to mine,” he says with a cocky grin. It would be impossible to slide a sheet of paper between them.

“Bucky, please,” she whimpers albeit the uncertainty of the moment. She smiles when the weight of her words makes him shiver.

“It’ll change everything.” His hands are on her cheeks now, ready.

“I damn well hope so.”

- Taste -

“I’m sorry Mr. Barnes. Mr. Stark has asked me to inform you that public facilities of the compound are secured with cameras. High definition cameras.” The AI blurts out through the intercom, and it’s as if it, too, doesn’t want to see the following scene unfold.

“Fucking kidding me,” Bucky grunts, eyes shooting to the ceiling.

He feels her giggle onto his chest. The proximity should be firing up his arousal, but the cute gesture hits a whole other cord. Maybe this is what she meant by ‘unbearable outcome’, he thinks. He shakes the thought away, not wanting to break his one and only chance.

“You know, there is one public place that definitely isn’t monitored,” she mentions, wiggling her brows at him. His furrow for a second before he catches her intention. He picks up an elastic band from the rack in the gym before they amble down the hall and back up into the living quarters. He’s first to peek around the corner that leads towards the bathrooms, her body following with a hand on his shoulder for balance. Once the coast is clear, he finds the back of her thighs and picks her up. With a sharp kick, the door opens before them, and to their benefit, the room seems deserted. He sets her down before securing the doors with the elastic; an extra security measure that he knows isn’t the strongest, but it eases his mind nonetheless.

“Go start the showers on the left, I’ll take care of the lights,” he asks. When he turns back around, she’s standing at the other end of the room, five meters or so, but it feels like the world. He looks at her. The tight material of her leggings against her legs. How it delicately rises into her lips. The tank top she sports lets him see the bumps of her breasts perfectly. He palms himself through his sweats, bead of precum already setting a visible round spot at the tip. She’s biting her lip and he wishes he had mind reading abilities. He’d know what she wanted. How she wanted it. He damn well knows what he wants, and he feels nauseous at the idea of finally obtaining it.

“What’s with the staring,” she jokes. He grunts and she smirks.

“You’ve had control over me ever since I laid eyes on you. This has never happened. You’re so fucking hot and I don’t want to ruin this,” he admits.

“Talking will get you nowhere, Barnes.” There’s a wink, followed by her hands reaching for the hem of her tank top - it’s on the ground as fast as Bucky can blink. He takes his own top off, the movement of his muscles making her whimper and he quivers through the steam that’s slowly filling the room. She takes her bra off as he begins to walk closer, only spurring his intentions.

“Jump,” he commands when he’s within reach, grabbing her legs and pushing her against the cold wall. Her legs fit perfectly around him, her short arms hold her steady onto his neck. Her moan when their groans grind together almost has him finishing in his pants.

“God the things you do to me,” he adds between pants. His eyes roam her face and land on her parted lips. He catches her doing the same when his eyes look into hers before giving in. They crash lips in a passionate kiss, making the world stop around them. The showers become distant waterfalls and the steam is nothing but a tropical weather. It’s as if he had just bitten into the sweetest peach. Soft and subtle. Her lips dance with his and it’s the best thing he’s ever lived. They part shortly, only to allow him to take her carefully into a stall.

“Bucky, our clothes,” she whines.

“Don’t fucking care sweetheart.” His lips are back on hers and she’s safely stuck between his broad chest and another ceramic wall. The stream of water glides over his body, matting his chest hair and making his skin glimmer. His tongue travels onto her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. It’s salty from her ever lasting arousal and he hums at the contrast.

Before she can even understand the new dynamic, he’s got his fingers on her pussy through her leggings. It clings deliciously to her body and he needs it. Needs the taste, needs the feel. He has to hear the soft cries he can pull from her.

“You’re a sin, baby. You know that?” he adds in a growl.

#my writing #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #kittens seven deadly sins #challenge entry #hopefully the formatting works

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 4 years

Note

okay so, i know i already have a request in the queue & this is probs selfish of me to ask, but would you pretty pls consider: “I apologise sincerely if my handsome face has kept you awake all night.” for Valdryn? or valdo x reader if you’d rather 💛

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Punk!Valdo x Punk!Aevryn Word Count: 973 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @kemmastan @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @amirahiddleston @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @mycat-is-mylove a/n: It’s a bit short and I hope I captured them well and I hope you like it broooo

Some nights Aevryn just looked at him.

He usually fell asleep before her, exhausted from a long day of working and more often than not taking care of people. She marveled at how much he’d grown, the star-crossed love of her life, and all of the near misses they’d had. If someone had told her when she met him that she would be here one day, lying next to him with a ring on her left hand and a promise to never be parted again, she would have laughed. If someone had told her that one day they would both a find a way through the hurt and heal from his betrayal, she would have punched them. And yet here they were.

In so many ways he was the same boy she’d met and fallen in love with as a teenager. He had the same unruly curls, spilling onto the pillow and against her shoulder as he lay next to him. The facial hair was new but it suited him well. The expressive eyebrows, now placid and relaxed as he slept, that punctuated his words and gave away his emotions were the same. Aevryn gently ran her finger along them and Valdo twitched his face but stayed fast asleep. He was still lanky but there was some more definition, seen clearly as he slept next to her, naked body tangled in the black cotton sheets. Aevryn’s finger moved down to trace the lovely mouth, capable of uttering the most ridiculous, bawdy jokes or the softest, sweetest declarations of love. There were little things that had changed, the hint of wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and around his lips. Sometimes she caught a glimpse of a grey hair that mysteriously disappeared before she could catch a second look. Yes, some nights Aevryn spent hours just looking at Valdo, still in awe that they’d fought their way back to each other. Valdo slept through it all, the stunning emerald eyes unseeing as the sea green ones gazed, and this was why he couldn’t have known that Aevryn would react so very badly at being woken up the next morning.

“Come on, Swift, we’re running late,” he called, playfully dropping a pillow on the mess of light brown curls that were half-obscured by blanket. Aevryn rose from the fluffy depths of the comforter just enough to level a glare so fierce Valdo actually physically recoiled a bit.

“Dearest?” he said, his voice much gentler and loving than it had been a moment before.

“Mm tired,” she muttered.

“Well… it is nearly 10:30 and we told Jaskier and Y/N that we’d be there by 10 and while I enjoy being fashionably late there is a limit,” he said, cautiously approaching the bed.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she groused.

“We said we’d meet up with them for brunch,” he reminded her. Aevryn mumbled a string of curses and Valdo leaned to take a better look at her, concern creasing his face.

“Are you feeling alright, love? You’re not a morning person in general but you seem especially tired today,” he said as he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, the other one finding her wrist to read her pulse. If anyone else had done this she would have thought they were joking but she knew he worried when he even suspected she was getting sick.

“I’m find, V, I just stayed up too late last night,” she murmured.

“You were in bed with me all night,” he argued, “I know I slept through it but I always wake up if you leave the bed so unless you did some bizarre Indiana Jones trick, you were here.”

“I was in bed but I didn’t sleep.”

“What’s wrong?”

Aevryn had been trying to find a way around it but she knew there was nothing to do but admit it before he started calling an ambulance or scheduling a psychiatric evaluation.

“I was up late staring at your face, ok?” she barked. Valdo’s face shifted from concerned to confused.

“My face?”

“Yes.”

“Was there something… wrong with it?”

“No,” Aevryn huffed, “Your face was perfect as always.”

“So you were just awake staring at my face because of how perfect it is?” he clarified. She shrugged begrudgingly, grumpy from lack of sleep and from the smug look that overcame his face.

“So really, this is your fault!” she accused, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“I apologize sincerely if my handsome face has kept you awake all night,” he crooned, climbing back into the bed next to her. “How can I make it up to you?”

“You can let me sleep,” she said hopefully, batting her eyelashes at him winningly.

“Oh love, as much as I hate to deny you the things you want, especially when they involve staying in bed, I think that Jaskier and Y/N were quite hoping to speak with us about something. Perhaps something about a certain ultrasound that was done recently that would tell us the sex of the baby?”

As soon as Valdo’s words were spoken Aevryn shot up in bed.

“Oh my god! The ultrasound! Oh, fuck you should have led with that! How dare you let me stay in bed so long Valdo Marx!” she cried, nearly tumbling face first to the ground as she tried to extract herself from the bedding. Valdo caught her nimbly and took advantage of the sudden closeness to press a soft kiss to her lips that nearly made her forget her hurry. But only nearly. She rose back up and he gave her a little swat as she hurried to the bathroom, assuring her that he’d have the car ready when she got out, still grinning to himself as he thought about how very adorable his wife was.

#Punk!Valdo x Punk!Aevryn #Valdryn #Punk!AU #Vicious Mockery AU #Vicious Mockery

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eternaljouska · 5 years

Text

Redamancy, Chapter 10 - Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Husband!JihoonxReader

Genre: Angst, the tiniest amount of Fluff

Word Count: 4.4 K

Recommended Song: SHAUN - Way Back Home (feat. Conor Maynard) [Sam Feldt Edit]

A/N: I hope this is a satisfactory conclusion to the series. Well, not really, since there’s still the epilogue, but I don’t want to raise expectations, so… Sorry if this is somehow disappointing.

–

Call Soon Hyung. You’re welcome.

That is the content of Seungkwan’s latest message for Jihoon. There were four missed calls and three messages preceding it, but Jihoon didn’t know any of these until he’s about to leave his car.

Hyung, you guys still asleep? I’m outside.

Nobody’s home? Answer my call, hyung.

You in the studio? I’m going there right now.

Jihoon has no ideas as to why Seungkwan was searching adamantly for him like that, and he also doesn’t understand why he needs to call Soonyoung. He was about to do exactly as Seungkwan instructed, but you knock on his window, interrupting him before he can press the call button. “Ji? Let’s go.”

“Oh, okay. Wait a sec.” As he releases his seatbelt, Jihoon quickly types a short message for Soonyoung with one hand, asking what’s going on with Seungkwan.

“What is it?” you ask once Jihoon’s out from the car.

“Uh?”

“Are you needed in the company?”

“No. No. Just… Seungkwan. He visited when we’re on our way here and then he told me to call Soonyoung. I was just sending a short text for him.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then.” You grab Jihoon’s hand and lead the way to the elevator. Both of you are currently in Jihoon’s old apartment building. After having the conversation about your children, Jihoon suggested that you two take turns showering right away so that you can catch a quick brunch at a random restaurant you passed along the way before you pick your children up.

It was indeed a quick brunch. There’s not much in your conversation, but it left both of you in such a pleasant mood. Even now in the elevator, Jihoon’s hand is still snug in yours, drawing a permanent smile on his lips. The ding of the elevator breaks into Jihoon’s thought. He silently curses at the intrusion because the moment the elevator opens, you hurried out to search for Jihoon’s door, forgetting the poor man behind with his unattended hand.

When Jihoon arrives at your side, there’s already a click in the door, a sign that it’s only a matter of seconds before you both meet your sons again. The moment that Jihoon’s mom opens the door for the both of you, Jaemin shouts from behind her and jumps to your side, followed by Jimin, who’s running with all his might and only stopping once he’s able to hug your feet.

“Mommy! Daddy! Are we going home? Are we going home?” Jimin bubbles, jumping up and down with his hands raised above his head as to ask you to lift him up.

You kneel down instead, that way you can look at the two boys from the same level. “Let’s go inside first, okay?”

As soon as Jihoon gets to the living room, his phone rings with Soonyoung’s name displayed on the bright screen. “Excuse me, it’s Soonyoung,” he says to you who’s being dragged by Jaemin and Jimin to their room and his mom who’s following them.

“Hey, Jihoon. Where are you? We need to meet.”

“Hey, uh, I’m picking up the kids. Just arrived. What’s it about? Is this something serious?” Jihoon walks away from the living room to the kitchen, settling himself on one of the chairs near the counter.

First, your car. And second, I got your rings, well, Y/n’s.”

“The rings that she threw away last night?”

“She threw them away?”

“That’s… not the point. Ugh, God,” Jihoon grunts, placing one hand on the counter and resting his head on top of it.

“Jihoon? What happens?”

Jihoon turn his head a little to peek at the children room for you before he answers in something closer to a whisper, “What am I supposed to do with them?”

“What? Give them back to Y/n, of course. What else?”

“Yeah, hey, Y/n, here are the rings that you threw away last night because I suck as a husband. You still want them, right? No? Oh, great. It’s okay. I’m okay. Take—“

Soonyoung chuckles at Jihoon’s constant rambling. Despite the younger man’s effort to play down the situation, he knows that the anxiety is real. “It’s okay, Jihoon. You’ve been forgiven already, right?”

“Not really. Still on my way there. That’s why I can’t just come to her and give the rings. I don’t want to remind her of her meltdown last night—or more like the reason of her meltdown last night.”

“Jihoon,” Soonyoung starts as he exhales, “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay then, would you prefer I give the rings directly to her? Or maybe put the rings on her finger myself?”

“Ya! Kwon Soonyoung!” Jihoon exclaims rather loudly that he snaps his head around to see whether it’s caught anyone’s attention. “Don’t you dare,” he stresses every syllable of his words, but the other man only laughs, clearly delighted at how easily he can rile Jihoon.

“Just kidding. You can do something like a re-proposal, I don’t know. I mean- God, I’m brilliant! Yes! Do that! Redo the proposal in that fancy restaurant. Maybe it can trigger her memory. I can gather the boys real quick. Wait- No! Crap! Seungkwan has a schedule today, I don’t know about tomorrow, but—“

“Soonyoung,” Jihoon interrupts, “I… I don’t want to go that strong. I just want to take it slow and not overwhelm her. Also, if I redo the proposal—God damn it, that’s gonna be our third proposal—what about the wedding? I… I want something simple, with only the both of us, or… I don’t know…”

“Hmm… I’ll think of something. Let’s meet tomorrow, okay? And don’t let her know about it. I got to go. Bye!”

The call ends even before Jihoon has the chance to express anything, not his sorry nor his gratitude.

“Jihoon,” his mom calls and motions for him to go sit with her on the couch. “I’m sorry, but I heard a little bit of your conversation on the phone. Would you tell me what happened between you and Y/n?” Once Jihoon reaches the living room, Mrs. Lee places his hand on his shoulder as to guide him down to the couch.

Jihoon gives the children room another quick look to make sure that you’re still too occupied to hear him. His mom who notices this speaks up once again, “She’s still packing their clothes.”

“She… had flashbacks about our fight, the day before my enlistment, and the wedding. And, um, I think everything confused her, and I wasn’t there to sort things out for her. I guess she felt lonely. No, she must have felt a lot of things. Hurt, betrayal. She went through everything alone and last night- I guess last night was her breaking point. She let everything out and even threw our engagement and wedding rings. But- But we talked. In the morning. She hasn’t exactly forgiven me, but at least she gave me a chance.”

The hand that was on Jihoon’s shoulder moves downward and rests on his thigh, patting it empathetically and encouragingly. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay. As long as you stay by her side.”

“Yes, Mom, but I don’t know what to do about the rings. Soonyoung has—Oh! When are you planning to go back to Busan?” Jihoon widens his eyes and swiftly changes the conversation when you walk out of the room with two bags on your hands and two boys on your tail.

Mrs. Lee catches on her son’s intention and follows along, “Oh, I don’t know well. You two came here in short notice, so I haven’t planned anything.”

“You can go stay with us for as long as you want,” you chime in as you place the two bags down. Jihoon grunts inwardly at this, not because of the suggestion you made but because of the action you just did—or more like he didn’t do. He should’ve helped you with the bags, but that thought didn’t even cross his mind as he’s distracted, trying to hide his previous conversation.

“That would be great, but I can only stay for so long, dear.”

“Ah, okay, then. Do you want me to help you pack now?”

“No, don’t bother. I can do it myself.”

“Alright. I’ll just prepare dinner instead. And you two stay here, okay? You play with them, alright?” you say, turning from Jihoon’s mom to the children and lastly to Jihoon before disappearing to the kitchen.

Dinner comes and goes and so does the fifteen-minute drive to your house. Jihoon helps his mom settle in the guest room while you do the same to the kids in theirs. Obviously, your task takes longer than his, for when he passes the slightly-opened door he can see the two boys still huddled on your side in one bed. You have a book on your hands, but Jihoon can’t figure out what the title is from where he’s standing. He takes careful steps inside and squeezes himself next to Jaemin on your left, leaving the boy in a giggle fit.

“Daddy! The bed won’t fit us all!” Jimin argues from his position next to the wall.

You laugh because instead of moving to the other bed—Jaemin’s—Jihoon only squeezes them further, earning him another protest from Jimin who’s now pressed to the wall. “Dad!”

“Okay, okay”—Jihoon stands and raises his arms up in resignation—“You just don’t love Daddy anymore. It’s okay,” he says as he fakes crying, clutching his chest and throwing himself on Jaemin’s bed.

“Daddy!” Jaemin squeals, jumping from Jimin’s bed to the floor and then to his own bed. He climbs on Jihoon’s body and shakes his shoulder when he doesn’t give an immediate response.

“What? Just go to your Mommy and leaves Daddy alone.”

Jihoon’s words fluster his oldest son that he turns to his brother for help. “Jimin! Come here! This is your doing.”

“Ugh, Daddy! Get up!” he orders petulantly as he crawls around you and makes the same little jumps as his brother did before. “Get up. Don’t be like a little boy.”

Jihoon turns around and catches Jaemin as he falls down from his body, not bothering to keep his act anymore. “What? Who calls Daddy a little boy?”

The two boys laugh and look at each other before they chorus, “Grandma!”

“Grandma said you cried and didn’t eat or shower like a little kid when Mommy’s in the hospital,” Jaemin explains.

You raise your head at this, trying to meet Jihoon’s gaze. They do meet for a split second before Jihoon tackles down the two boys and attacks them with tickles. The laughter of the three of them is overpowering the still hours but do not tamper with the comfort that it provides this particular night. A fond smile paints your lips. Looking at Jihoon like this, you understand how you’d agree to bear any and every heartbreak as long as you could stay a little longer by his side.

When their laughter dies down and the boys curl up in Jihoon’s arm, you rise to bid them goodnight. You lean forward to kiss their forehead, but Jimin stops you. “One more story, please? Let Daddy read.”

You look at Jihoon, and he extends his hand to take the book from you. When he has sat down and had the book on his hand, he clicks his tongue, “Why do you guys still read stories with the Big Bad Wolf in them when it scares you?”

“Jimin does, I don’t!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Alright, alright, we can replace them with new books tomorrow. The Big Bad Wolf is no more! How’s that sound? Great?”

“Great!” they answer in unison.

After each of you kisses the kids’ foreheads goodnight at the end of the bedtime story, you go directly to your room to take a shower while Jihoon stays in the living room to make a call. The first try rings for a long time before going to voicemail, but the second time’s connected after only the first ring.

“Hey, I’m sorry. We were at practice,” Soonyoung says, referring to the new group he choreographs for.

“No problem. Have you thought of something yet?”

“Actually, I do. Let’s talk about this over breakfast tomorrow. I need to get right back to the practice. Is it okay?”

“Sure. The usual place at eight?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, thank you.”

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of alarm you don’t remember setting and find the bed empty. You’re slightly disappointed to find that Jihoon has left, but then you heard a clanking sound—from where you assume as the kitchen—and suddenly you get more than a little excited. When you get to the kitchen, the first thing you see is a pancake served on the dining table and a piece of yellow paper next to the plate. Just as you pick the letter up, a voice makes you jump in a start.

“I told him I can just tell you about it, but he insisted on writing a note for you instead.”

“Ah, Mom, good morning.”

Mrs. Lee nods in acknowledgment and smiles because you didn’t call her ‘Mrs. Lee’ again like you did in the middle of your ride home last night. “I’m going to freshen up a little bit while you enjoy your breakfast. Jihoon made that, so it might be cold now. And, um, sorry for the noise earlier. I was trying to place the water pot in the cabinet, but it fell down.”

“No worries. You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Okay, then. I’ll leave you to it,” Mrs. Lee says as he passes you and nods towards the letter.

It says that Jihoon is out with the two boys to buy books because they’re too eager to wait a little longer. While this is actually true, Jihoon with the boys don’t go directly to the bookstore, instead they have breakfast with Soonyoung first. The children are busy with their pancakes, having craving to eat one after Jihoon denied their request at home and made only one mix for you, while Jihoon is talking with Soonyoung in a hushed voice despite the pretty slow restaurant.

“Redo-proposal, at the Hill,” Soonyoung smirks, the pride from his idea flowing out with his words as he shoves a wooden ring box to Jihoon.

The younger man opens the unfamiliar box to find the two rings that seem to have been gone from your finger for too long. “But,” Jihoon starts, “She hasn’t said anything about the rings. What if- What if she doesn’t want them. At least, not yet. I told you we’re taking this really slowly.”

Soonyoung answers him with a sigh. “Wasn’t this the kind of attitude that distanced you from her after the accident?”

“I- I know, but—“

“No buts. Just ask her to meet you at the Hill to search for the rings together. That will make kneeling down such a reasonable thing to do. And then the rest is up to you. Tell her about your feeling and everything else you have to say. This is your chance, Jihoon.”

Jihoon considers Soonyoung’s words for a few moments while playing with his own wedding band. It is hurt to feel or see your bare finger whenever he does. “Alright, this is my chance,” he repeats in resolution.

“Daddy?” asks Jimin.

“Uh, what’s up, buddy?”

“When will we buy new books? We’re done eating.”

It’s true. The two boys’ plates are now empty; they have eaten all their food diligently. But this, in addition to Jimin’s words earlier, only reminds him of his original plan with the boys. “Wait a little more, okay? We’ll go right after this. I need to take them to the bookstore,” he says, turning to Soonyoung at the end of his sentence. “And, uh, I use Y/n’s car. There’s no way I’m gonna ask her to take a cab to meet me at the Hill.”

“Well, you can send the boys home after your shopping and pick her up and drive together to the Hill. I suggested you meet her there only because I think you’d need the time to prepare and rehearse on the location. It doesn’t have to be today. I can take your car back and you can both go with a separate car—wait, do you even comfortable letting her drive herself?”

“No, not really. And I think I can’t do this any other day. I- I might not have the courage.”

“Okay, then. Call her to get ready, or not. I’ll be the chauffeur—or rather, the head of your army—who is ready to send your queen your way, Your Majesty.”

“Shut up. You? The head of my army? Can’t Seungkwan do it instead?” Jihoon quips, half serious and half joking.

“What is this betrayal? Jihoon, I thought you trust me. Seungkwan’s not available, okay? That dude’s busy, that’s why he gave me the rings.”

Jihoon brushes Soonyoung’s comments off. “Alright, alright, whatever. Imma need to go.”

“Alright, good luck, mate.”

“Hm,” he acknowledges as he puts some money on the table and stands, gesturing the kids to do the same and greet Soonyoung goodbye. “Soonyoung. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Aye, Seungkwan found the rings. I only bought the box. He said he lost your ring once. The least he can do is find those ones and bring them back to you.”

Jihoon lets out a low chuckle, his heart warming at the thought of everything his members have done for him. “I’ll thank him later. But seriously, thank you. And, um, I’m sorry.”

Now it’s Soonyoung’s turn to chuckle, “No problem. I know the reason you get jealous easily when I’m with Y/n is that you love me. Too much, if I might add.”

“Seriously?” Jihoon deadpans, but turns to his kids as Jimin tugs at the hem of his shirt. “I got to go. Thank you again. I’ll text you once I’m at the Hill.”

The said message arrives about an hour after their meeting. It is a very succinct message with only one word, proceed. Soonyoung doesn’t have any particular plan on bringing you to the Hill, which is why he can only grin when you open the door with a faint frown on your forehead, clearly surprised to have him as an uninvited guest.

“Soonie? Jihoon’s not home. He—“

“I know. He texted me.” And then another brilliant idea pops into Soonyoung’s head. “He said he’s searching for your rings at the Hill.”

“What? No- no, he’s taking the kids to the bookstore. That’s what he told me.”

“Oh, crap! I’m sorry. Oh, God. He’s going to kill me.” Soonyoung pretends to be panicked and even go as far as turning around to walk back to Jihoon’s car. It takes you exactly two steps to finally take his bait.

“Wait! Don’t you dare move from that spot. I’ll just tell Mom that I need to go meet Jihoon, and then you need to take me to the Hill.”

“But, Y/n, I was just gonna drop his car. I have practice in half an hour.”

“Soonyoung, please? Just… Take me there, and you can go. Drop the car later or tomorrow.” The frown on your forehead deepens, but Soonyoung takes his time to consider his answer.

“Well, okay, I guess I can do that.”

“Mom! I’m going to go meet Jihoon! Soonyoung will drive me!” Apparently, you have a little doubt towards Soonyoung that instead of telling Mrs. Lee directly like you initially intended, you only duck your head inside and shout for her, to which she replies with another shout of okay, take care.

You close the door to your house and skip all the way to where Soonyoung parked the car. Once the car gears to life, though, your cheerful front has dropped altogether.

“Hey, Y/n, what’s wrong?” asks Soonyoung a few minutes into the ride.

“Why would he want to search for them alone?”

“Uh, I- I don’t kno—“

“I was the one who threw them out of spite.”

“Do you regret it, though?”

“Hm?” You turn your head towards Soonyoung at his question, and he meets your gaze through the rear-view mirror. “I… I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t have a solid thought about everything because I can’t remember, you know. But I know that what I did was cruel. Just throwing them out like that.”

“Well, maybe Jihoon knows that you’re confused. Maybe he doesn’t want to force them on you. I mean, would you wear the rings from an engagement or wedding you don’t remember being a part of?”

“Don’t say something like that,” you say sternly.

“Why? Would you, though?”

The answer is obvious. But when Soonyoung puts it like this, you can’t help but go over your thoughts and feelings once again. Your words come out as a mumble when you finally speak, “I don’t remember most of everything. But that sounds like an excuse the more I think or tell someone about it. I love him. That I know, so of course… Of course, I would wear them.”

Shooting you one last look, Soonyoung replies with a smirk, “All is good, then. We’re here.” He pulls to a stop near the walkway to the Hill. You look up from your lap and realize that you’ve indeed arrived at the location; the car that Jihoon drives—yours—is parked right in front of you. It turns out that alternating between the conversation you have with Soonyoung and the one in your head costs a long enough time. “Do you want me to walk you up?”

“No, no, it’s okay. Thank you very much.”

“Y/n,” Soonyoung says right before you close the car door on him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself—and him.”

You nod, “Thank you, really.”

And with that, Soonyoung reverses back and drives away from you.

The first thing that catches your attention is your two boys leaning on the Big Tree facing the walkway: Jaemin is muttering the words of the book on his hand and Jimin is iterating the act of stacking the rest of the new books and knocking them over. You quicken your pace with worry because Jihoon is nowhere to be seen.

The two boys stop what they’re doing and raise their head when your shadow falls in front of them. “Mommy!”

And as if on cue, Jihoon appears from the opposite side of the tree, muttering your name groggily, “Y/n.”

“Jihoon! I thought you’re not with them. I was worried!” you scold him as you walk, still with the same fast pace, towards where he stands.

“I’m sorry. Um, Y/n,” he repeats and then gets on one knee when you arrive in front of him. Gathering his courage, Jihoon stares at the ground while taking a few deep breaths, the bottom of his lips is caught between his teeth. When his erratic heartbeat loses its ultimate control over his auditory sense, Jihoon realizes that you’ve been calling his name for a few times now. He lets out another long breath before he looks up and stares into your bewildered eyes. “Y/n, I… I know I have not been fulfilling the promises I made in the past. Even if there’s a time that I did, somehow I just stopped without really knowing why. I know that I cannot give you any more promises for fear that I would just disappoint you again. But you’re giving me another chance yet again, and I- I am so thankful for it. I’m so thankful for you. Because I love you, and I want you to believe that I mean it. And I can’t- I can’t let you go, Y/n.

“So here I am, kneeling down in front of you, for the third time, asking for your hand again. And I hope that you’d deign to accept me again”—Jihoon takes out the wooden ring box and opens it, presenting the ring for you—“Y/n, I don’t think I have the right question to ask today. But would you let me—“

“Yes,” you begin, fresh tears already forming in your eyes. “Yes, Jihoon. Whatever that sentence entails, yes.”

Jihoon bites on his lips again to prevent him from smiling too widely. He reaches for your hand to slowly slip the ring to your finger, starting from the engagement ring. But before he can put the wedding band on your ring finger, you stop him. “Wait. I, um, there’s a condition. Explain to me why you, um, dragged the kids into this.”

“Oh, that.” Jihoon scratches the back of his neck, a big grin immediately taking over his face. He takes a few steps back to peek around the Big Tree for the children. Both of them are now busy stacking the books into a tower. Nevertheless, roses still manage to bloom on Jihoon’s cheek, realizing that the kids have possibly been listening to his cheesy confession. “This is kind of unplanned. Ugh, God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve asked Soonyoung to play with them or whatever, but I don’t want to make it look like—“

“Jihoon, stand up.”

“Huh?”

“Just… stand up.” You take his arms to help him get to his feet, but he doesn’t budge.

Panic starts crawling from the tip of Jihoon’s fingertips to the beating of his heart. He reaches for your hands again and holds them tightly. “But Y/n“—Jihoon stops himself from continuing his words when you walk closer to him and fall to both of your knees in front of him—“Y/n, what are you doing?”

A gentle smile spreads on your lips as you move your ring finger up and down a few times, signaling him to continue his previous action. “Do it.”

“What?”

“The ring. Before I change my mind.”

“No! Wait, no! I’ll do it.” Jihoon takes the wedding band again and carefully slides it into your ring finger, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jihoon begins as both of you walk back to where the car’s parked, your sons walking ahead of you hand in hand.

“What is it?”

“Thank you.” He nudges at you with his elbow. “And just so you know, you kneeling down up there, it’s happened before.”

“Me? I- I was the one who proposed?”

Jihoon’s crisp chuckles ring throughout the quiet hill. “Hmm, no. Not exactly.”

“Then what happened?” you urge.

“Well, let’s go home first, shall we? Because that, that is a story for another time, isn’t it?”

–

Taglist: @thatfangurltho @chwenchew @la-hermosaluna @heolykpop

#jihoon angst #jihoon fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #woozi angst #woozi fluff #lee jihoon angst #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon scenaro #woozi seventeen #seventeen #seventeen scenario #woozi scenario #jihoon scenario #angst #fluff #jihoon imagines

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tomhiddleslove · 5 years

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Betrayal Cast Tom Hiddleston, Zawe Ashton and Charlie Cox on Pinter, Broadway and Fate

The cast sat down with Variety to discuss squash and other games people play, with what Pinter means to them, and how their paths have crossed in the past, leading to this moment.

What does it mean to you to be here in New York, making your Broadway debut?

Zawe Ashton: It is a dream come true, actually. I’ve seen some of the best things I’ve ever seen in this very theater, including the show previous to us, “The Ferryman.”

Tom Hiddleston: I first came to Broadway with my dad and my sisters when I was 17. It was my first time seeing the city and I remember going into Times Square and we went to see “Follies.” This was before I was even thinking about being an actor — or maybe in the back of my head I had decided. The first time I was in this theater I saw Samuel L. Jackson and Angela Bassett doing “The Mountaintop.”

Charlie, you actually live out here, are you planning on showing them around?

Charlie Cox: Oh, yes. There’s a few places I want to take them.

Ashton: [Laughs] How can you make that sound sinister?

Cox: I’m not sure the places I like will be what you’re imagining. I want to take them to Bubby’s. It’s a restaurant with a great all-American brunch.

What does “all-American” mean to Brits?

Cox: Fried chicken and waffles.

Hiddleston: And big portions.

Cox: And coffee that keeps being filled up. You have to put a napkin over it to stop them.

Hiddleston: Right. If you have a second coffee in the UK you have to pay for it.

Cox: It’s crazy. When I get my coffee, I need to put my milk and sugar and the proportions have to be right. When they fill your coffee up over here, the proportions are all off. Also, you feel like you’re on rocket fuel and you don’t know why.

Ashton: Anything else we need to experience?

Cox: Well, these two are too healthy but I’d love to introduce you to half-and-half. It’s one of the best inventions in the world. It’s cream and milk.

Hiddleston: I know about that. This isn’t, like, my first time in America.

Cox: Oh, and I’d love to introduce you to McDonald’s. [Laughs.]

Hiddleston: I’m really excited about the seasons. I’ve spent time in New York before but it’s only been for like two weeks at a time. To be here from summer into fall into winter…

Cox: Fall is an illusion in New York. You get a weekend in the 70s, and that’s it.

Ashton: No, but the colors and the trees! And Thanksgiving is going to be amazing!

How did you first become familiar with the work ofHarold Pinter and specifically “Betrayal”?

Hiddleston: For my A-Level English literature, we did a play of Pinter’s called “The Homecoming.” What I found so interesting was “The Homecoming” was so spare and so precise and so grown-up. I remember my teacher encouraging us to think about this play as about power and sex and family, all in a very brutal way. That it’s a father and sons competing for supremacy. I remember thinking: “This is reading a bit too much into it, isn’t it?” But it isn’t. As a 17-year-old, I just didn’t realize there was a writer engaging so consciously at this level.

Then I read “Betrayal” at the Royal Academy of Dramatic arts as an exercise for a dramaturgy class. I read it in one sitting and I did think, at the age of 21, “This would be an amazing thing to do one day.”

Ashton: We did a couple months of scene study at drama school and I played Anna in “Old Times.” I was 19 and I loved it and we actually nailed the scene study. I mean, we were 19-year-olds, maybe it was terrible. But my head of year said to me: “If I had known how easy Pinter was going to be for you, I would have given you something else.”

Was it easy?

Ashton: No! It wasn’t easy! But what I think he identified that if you vibe with Pinter, you’re kind of a special breed of person. If you can lean into all the violence and brutality and also see the tenderness and experience the special viewpoint he has of human relationships, you have a friend for life.

And you vibed with him from the start?

Ashton: 100%. And now I love him even more. Doing “Betrayal” is about having to invest in a love affair with these two men, but I also feel I’ve invested in a love affair with Pinter. I’ve wanted to read his poetry, I’ve wanted to think about him, I’ve wanted to read the books Joan Bakewell and Lady Antonia Fraser wrote about him. Just to try and piece together the man who I’ve never met. Charlie has.

You’ve met Pinter?

Cox: The first play I did in the West End was with Jamie Lloyd, “The Lover/The Collection.” Harold was part of numerous rehearsals and came to see the play many times. I got some great Harold stories that I’m still dining out on! During that time, I read “Betrayal.” Harold died the following year. It’s funny, my wife and I live in Connecticut and when I was offered this play I walked into my local bookshop and it was sitting right there.

A year ago, you didn’t know you’d be doing “Betrayal” in London, let alone here.

Cox: Four weeks ago we didn’t know we’d be here! It all happened very fast. When we closed in London, we thought we were done.

My understanding is this all began last October, when Tom and Zawe did a reading from the play at the “Pinter at the Pinter” gala?

Ashton: It sprung from that gala and people thinking we were rehearsing it already. People kept coming up to me and asking if we were doing a full production. So at the gala I basically came up to Tom and said, “What are you doing in March 2019?” And you were like, “Uh, get away from me, crazy lady.”

Hiddleston: It was an interesting night because it was celebration of all his work as a gift to [his widow] Antonia Fraser and it was 10 years after he died. But it wasn’t a heavy night, it was a celebration. And people came back to do extracts. The production Jamie Lloyd directed of “The Homecoming” came back. Jeremy Irons came back to do “No Man’s Land.”

Wait, Jeremy Irons starred in the film version of “Betrayal.” Were you intimidated to do a scene in front of him?

Hiddleston: Well, less intimidated because I played his son in “The Hollow Crown.” There were several “Betrayal” alumni. Sam West was there, who played Robert at the Donmar Warehouse. Kristin Scott Thomas, who has played Emma, was also there. There was something very generous about this company of great, established actors who had made a great impact with Pinter’s work saying to Zawe and myself, “If you’re not doing it, you should do it.”

Ashton: It was such a compliment.

Hiddleston: Then Antonia Fraser also said, “Would you like to do it?” And Jamie leaned across and said, “Let’s do it!” So it came together very fast. And Jamie’s first suggestion for Jerry was Charlie, but he said you couldn’t do it.

Cox: The show I was doing [“Daredevil”] was going to be scheduled for another season at the time. So they went out to find somebody else. Then my show got cancelled and I called my agent and said I would love to do a play. I didn’t hear for a bit and I finally got him on the phone and was about to say “I’ve been trying to call you!” — but in a very nice, English way. And before I could say anything he said, “How would you like to do ‘Betrayal’ with Zawe Ashton and Tom Hiddleston?” I paused and said, “I’d like that very much.”

Ashton: If “Daredevil” hadn’t been canceled you wouldn’t have been able to do it.

That has to take some of sting out of cancellation.

Cox: It did, yeah.

This play doesn’t work without the chemistry between the characters, even when they are constantly competing and one-upping each other. Did you know each other prior to working together and was that chemistry pretty instant?

Cox: Tom and I knew each other. We were bouncing around L.A. at the same time early in our careers.

Hiddleston: The truth is, we first met bumping into each other auditions for the same films that neither of us would get. After like the fourth time, we said, “Let’s go get a burger.”

Ashton: We’d been intersecting for years. Weird things have happened: Tom and I sat next to each other years before at the theater. We did the gala but weirdly, we’d also done a reading a couple weeks before that. And then Charlie and I realized we had auditioned together years ago.

Cox: I’m almost sure it was you. I didn’t get it.

Ashton: I didn’t either. And it was definitely you.

Hiddleston: That’s how most actors know each, they audition for things they don’t get.

Ashton: This could be the most unpleasant experience; it could really be toxically bad. What has happened is it has been the most joyful experience ever. That’s not to say we’re not completely embedded in the raw pain of the play. But I think you realize when you get to a certain age that you don’t need it to bleed into your lives and you don’t need to carry it home. I don’t want to do that with Harold Pinter because you can and you will go mad.

Hiddleston: It’s one of those things, you can’t put your finger on why it works, but it works and it’s a great pleasure.

Cox: That one-upmanship you talked about that’s in the text; if that were to manifest between us as actors, it would be awful.

Ashton: However…there was a squash game.

Cox: Let’s not talk about that.

Ashton: It did spill over into that game.

Cox: Look, it’s not about who wins or loses, it’s about who’s fitter. And Tom is fitter than I am.

Hiddleston: It was very instructive, playing squash. Some of those scenes, the competition is in the subtext, the brutality to each other is underneath it while they’re being civil on the surface. After we played squash, those scenes played themselves.

Cox: I still have a buttock injury from that last game. I was desperately trying to reach a ball because I was so determined to keep up! We had one day where we had five solid sessions and then Zawe joined us for the spa.

Leaving behind these characters at the end of the day could be a challenge. Are you able to do that?

Cox: Sometimes I’ll be at the end of the day and I’ll be agitated in some way and then I remember; of course, I just got off stage.

Ashton: I’ve often said I’ve felt like a baby who needed to be burped. There’s so much repression in the play and people aren’t saying what they mean and you want to cry but you have to hold it in. Sometimes I want to cry for three days.

Hiddleston: My favorite actor of all time Paul Scofield said: “The emotions are real, but they aren’t mine.” Which I think sums it up. Actors investigate something real but the situation doesn’t belong to them. So I know consciously I’m not Robert, I know I haven’t been betrayed. But when I investigate his sadness, some aspect of that belongs to me. It sometimes leaves a shadow.

“Betrayal” has been performed in America before, obviously, but are you curious about how Broadway audiences will respond versus London audiences?

Cox: We get a lot of Americans in London. I don’t think it’s going to be radically different.

Ashton: I think it’s going to be radically different. I think there’s going to be some exciting new things having an American audience is going to illuminate. I think it’s going to be interesting.

“Betrayal” runs at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre through Dec. 8.

#Tom Hiddleston #Zawe Ashton #Charlie Cox #Betrayal Broadway #Variety interview #August 08 #hiddles 2019 #Jenelle Riley #bernard b jacobs theater #new york city

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inspirited-goddess · 5 years

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[ W I P I N T R O : The Princess of Light ]

Series: Darkness & Light

Position in Series: The prequel, so before Book 1

Genre: YA High & Dark Fantasy

Status: First Draft

POV: 3rd Person Limited

Started: August 5th, 2019

S Y N O P S I S :

When a god shows up at your doorstep and asks to join you for brunch, who would you be to say no?

The monarchs of Enchancia, King Lucian and Queen Ella, are ecstatic as they await the delivery of their twin princesses, who are due in a month. All is well and perfect until the Oracle, a man revered as a god across several generations of their kingdom's history and someone whom they've even prayed to, appears at the doors of the castle and asks for their company. Amongst scrumptious snacks and the elaborate, perfect layout of their dining lounge, he reveals the state of the universe and how an evil is brewing as the Queen of the Underworld seeks out a Host for the resurrection of Odin, a god who'd met his demise centuries ago and who was considered the Oracle's evil counterpart. He asks that they allow him to bless one of their unborn children with the power to defy this evil, to which they eagerly agree.

The twins are born in due time and Princess Snowella is made the Princess of Light---humanity's only hope in defying the growing evil. However, with her position and the power she's been bestowed thanks to the Oracle comes an even greater threat: her. The Oracle neglects to inform them that her role as the Princess of Light can turn dark at any moment, and when the capital starts getting attacked soon after her birth, King Lucian and Queen Ella wonder if it's all a coicidence, or if betrayal within the castle walls and the unknown extent of her new power could pose a threat to society. She'd been blessed by their god, after all, so what could go wrong?

These ingredients are needed for eternal peace, or total chaos: the Elemental Stones, the Stone of Light, and the perfect Host to activate them.

M A I N C H A R A C T E R S :

King Lucian [of Enchancia]: A man with unequivocal love for his wife and the kingdom over which he reigns. He would do anything---even make a deal with a god and put his infant child at risk---to keep everyone safe. He holds great regard for the warriors of his kingdom and trusts them with all that they do. He is a man of his word and his faith, believing wholeheartedly in the Oracle's plan and trusting in the vision he has of the future.

Queen Ella [of Enchancia]: The proud queen of Enchancia, bride of Lucian, and mother of twin princesses Elizabeth and Snowella. She is very kind and compassionate, and places all her faith in the plan the Oracle presents them with. Post-delivery, she is very stressed, but is confident Snowella's status as the Princess of Light will secure humanity's fate and keep them safe from evil, just as the Oracle promised.

The Oracle, aka The Epitome of Light: A very powerful, otherwordly man whom is considered a god across the universe. He is one of the universe's most powerful beings and would have remained immortal had he not broken a grave rule. He presents himself to the monarchy of Enchancia with a plan to save the future of all human life, but within that plan is a twisted secret that could, in fact, bring about humanity's destruction.

Demonica, the Queen of the Underworld and the Keeper of Souls: A powerful, wise, and demonic woman whose been wandering the universe for years in search for the ingredients to revive the Epitome of Darkness. She's long since lost her sense of humanity and will do anything to see to it that her dreams, as well as those of her savior's, come to fruition. And with the help from an anonymous tip lurking within the Enchancian castle, a kingdom that opposes her own, she just might get what she wants.

Here’s the full WIP page: The Princess of Light.

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list!

✧ @lady-redshield-writes @mezvii @arynneva @homesteadchronicles @tenacious-scripturient @writebruh @kaigods @idreamtofreality @halfbloodlycan @the-violet-writer ✧

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community #wipshelves #wip #new wip #amwriting #here we go!!

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hxrtfelt · 5 years

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“SHE HAS NO NAME. NO FACE. A VIRTUAL GHOST ─

THE GIRL IS NO ONE...AND SO SHE IS E V E R Y O N E.”

⌠ 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑳, 𝟐𝟑, 𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑭𝑬𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑬, 𝑺𝑯𝑬/𝑯𝑬𝑹 ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, 𝑲𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑨 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑻! according to their records, they’re a 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑫 year, specializing in 𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯 & 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑷𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 + 𝑨𝑫𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑹𝒀𝑷𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵; and they 𝑫𝑰𝑫 𝑵𝑶𝑻 go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( 𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑬-𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑻 𝑻𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑺, 𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑳 𝑨𝑪𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺, and 𝑯𝑨𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑺 ). when it’s the 𝑮𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰’s birthday on 𝟔/𝟔/𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔, they always request their 𝑩𝑳𝑼𝑬𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑬𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑺 from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

* / CHARACTER INFLUENCES: NATASHA ROMANOFF ( Marvel ) + VILLANELLE ( Killing Eve ) + ALEC HARDISON ( Leverage ) + ROSA DIAZ ( Brooklyn 99 ) + CIPHER ( Fate of the Furious ) + ELLIOT ALDERSON ( Mr. Robot ) + ARYA STARK ( Game of Thrones )

* / VINE REFERENCES: x x x

* / PERSONAL ANTHEM: SMOKE AND MIRRORS - Gotye

Hi all, I’m Bri and this is my other mess of a child KATERINA. Feel free to like this post or hmu on discord if you want to plot :)

TW: Child abuse. Read with caution.

* / GENERAL INFORMATION

ALIAS: Katerina Hart.

REAL NAME: [ REDACTED ].

KNOWN AS: Kat, Kitten, Kitty.

CODENAME: Wraith

AGE: Twenty-three.

DATE OF BIRTH: June 6, 1996 ( fake ).

PLACE OF BIRTH: [ REDACTED ].

GENDER: Cisgender female.

PRONOUNS: She/her.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual.

RELIGION: Athiest.

* / PHYSICAL & MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 4′11.

WEIGHT: 122 lbs.

HAIR COLOUR: Brown.

EYE COLOUR: Blue-green.

TATTOOS: None.

PIERCINGS: Standard lobes.

BODY TYPE: Petite but toned.

PHYSICAL HEALTH: Peak.

NOTABLE PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS: Heart-shaped lips, piercing eyes.

FACE CLAIM: Danielle Campbell.

VOICE CLAIM: Danielle Campbell’s speaking voice.

CLOSET / STYLE: Jenny Humphrey ( S3 ) COMBINED w/ Blair Waldorf ( S1 ).

ILLNESSES / CONDITIONS: None.

ADDICTIONS: None.

VICES: Murder???

* / BACKGROUND, OCCUPATION & EDUCATION

BIRTHPLACE: [ REDACTED ].

RAISED: “The Institute”.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Gallagher Academy.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Bulgarian, Spanish, German, Porteguese, and Italian.

EDUCATION LEVEL: n/a.

FINANCIAL STATUS: n/a.

* / FAMILIAL BACKGROUND

FATHER: [ REDACTED ].

MOTHER: [ REDACTED ].

SIBLINGS: [ REDACTED ].

BIRTH ORDER: [ REDACTED ].

RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: n/a.

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS: [ REDACTED ].

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS: [ REDACTED ].

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: n/a.

* / PERSONALITY

POSITIVE: Intuitive, clever, determined, and strategic.

NEGATIVE: Insensitive, smart-mouthed, arrogant, and merciless.

ZODIAC: Gemini.

MBTI TYPE: INTJ.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful neutral.

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw.

AESTHETIC: Pearl headbands and leather jackets, heels on marble floors, clear lip gloss, perfect hems with a hint of grunge, soft curls, macarons and champagne for brunch, manipulative intentions, sweet lies and half-truths, invisible scars, arched eyebrow, head above heart, smoke and mirrors, hidden agendas for false gods

* / BIO: There’s not much to say about this orphan. Not what led her to orphanhood or where she was born. All she knows is that she was taken in by GHOST, an agency that works outside of central governments by being the necessary evil the world needs in order to keep from falling into chaos. That necessary evil? Recruiting kids and turning them into child soldiers.

GHOST operates under the guise that in order to protect the world, those in charge of protecting it must be stripped of human fallacy. Greed, corruption, morality, they’re all vices that hold even the best of the best back. In order to battle this, they take in orphans. They train them, raise them, then send them out into the world ready to fight the battles no one else can.

These agents are trained to not consider themselves as people. They are no one. Shadows of the world, g h o s t s. Masters of disguise, skilled hackers, and brutal killers; they can take down an entire empire in one night if they so choose to. Only they don’t. The world is a grey area with red tape interfering at every turn. When someone is needed to unravel that tape, be the monster to hunt monsters, their agents are sent in. No one knows who originally started the GHOST initiative, or whether it is truly outside any government reach, all they know is what their overseers tell theme.

Her name is WRAITH. One of their best. No mission done by her has failed, and that’s why they sent her out of all their recruits to Gallagher. Her specialty is infiltration, information retrieval ( whether it be data-based or through physical means ) and destabilization. And that’s what she plans to do. Only...she doesn’t know why. The girl was taught to be logical above anything, no matter the costs. So why send her to college for spies? What information could they possibly have that GHOST doesn’t? Her questions were left unanswered, which only made her more curious.

Her curiosity led her to encrypted files, mostly redacted, with codenames and metaphors she’d never heard of. What she didn’t expect to find, were her own files hidden within them. The girl had never been particularly curious about her past, as she was taught not to, but upon seeing her file for the first time she began to wonder if she should be. Half of it was redacted, including the names of relatives, her birthplace, and means of extraction. Why would an orphan, someone abandoned, have so much redacted information surrounding their family? Did she use to be someone? Does she still have someone?

And why was she EXTRACTED...?

Just more questions that plagued her upon enrollment at the spy university. Here she would be known under the alias of KATERINA. The files given to her that tell her of the fabricated backstory GHOST cooked up for her say that she’s to be just as wealthy and affluent and intelligent as her fellow classmates. A p e r f e c t cover. Usually, putting on a new face, becoming someone else, was the refreshing part of the job. The exciting part. But this time around, she can’t help but admit that becoming this faux persona is a lot harder now that her own identity remains hanging in the balance.

* / INNER THOUGHTS: Being a double agent is nothing new to her. There’s nothing but the mission. Or at least, there only used to be. An expertly trained agent is who she is, calculating and smart and loyal to her cause. But now that she knows there might be more towards her history, she finds herself going rogue while here at Gallagher. While she’s still dedicated to her mission overall and is easily befriending anyone she needs to do so, a part of her thirst’s for the knowledge that GHOST has kept from her. Their betrayal runs deep. If she can’t use Gallagher resources to find out, then she just might take a chance and force the hand of the institution that has been keeping her in the dark all these years.

* / WANTED RELATIONS: people she can get close to in order to extract information from, people who make her “”feel stuff”” as her secrets are making her more vulnerable than normal, maybe someone who starts catching on to her secret, and the usual ( enemies, lovers, etc... )

#gallagher:intro

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

everything’s different and nothing has changed (trixya) — dylann

Trixie wants this part to be over. The part of returning where he relearns how to move when no one is watching, where no one’s expecting him to provide quippy commentary about anything, where he could literally do anything and it wouldn’t matter is terrifying, somehow.

A/N: this is a post-as3 reunion fic based on a prompt i got from an anon (“give us the post-as3 reunion we all deserve. katya is out here being messy and i need it”) i don’t know if i delivered on the katya being messy front, but feelings are involved and those are definitely messy.

not an established relationship but there’s definitely an agreement in place. i use drag names and he/him pronouns for both throughout.

shoutout to dare for getting me to try my hand at trixya (and fixing all of my prepositions) xo

content warning for alcohol and some mildly explicit content

It ends as quietly as it began, with Trixie standing on the sidewalk, all of his best drag stuffed into three suitcases and a few duffel bags beside him. There’s a car on the way, his phone’s in the pocket of his worn jeans, and there isn’t a single camera around.

It’s a little after 10 pm, and the air is heavy and suffocating in a way only LA air can be in late August. Trixie is a year older, and done, and the world around him doesn’t seem any different.

He’d spent the past few weeks drafting texts to Katya (mentally, mostly, but sometimes also literally, jokes scribbled among rushed sketches and stray lyrics), and now that he’s back out in the real world, none of them seem right.

It’s like the first day of school after summer break: everything and everyone is the same, supposedly, except they’re not, they haven’t seen each other in months and a summer changes people. It’s a chunky metaphor but Trixie is so tired, and it makes enough sense.

He pulls his phone out and glances at the time. The car was supposed to be here nearly ten minutes ago. There are no new notifications since he turned the phone on an hour ago. Then, there’d been too many emails and twice as many tweets, and he’d marked everything as “read” without really looking at any of it. There’s been nothing since, and that shouldn’t feel as disappointing as it, surprisingly, does.

No one knows that he’s out. No one knows that it’s over.

His finger hovers over the green Messages icon when the phone vibrates and a notification (Arriving Soon: Jake is arriving soon in a Toyota Camry) so Trixie looks up and watches the car pull up.

Jake greets him quickly and steps outside to help him load all of his bags in the trunk.

“Long day at work?” the driver prompts as Trixie gets inside the car and clips his seatbelt on.

“Kind of.”

The man offers a sympathetic smile in the rear view mirror. Trixie nods and looks down at his phone, typing and sending a text before he really has time to rethink or edit.

To: Katya 🚬👵🏼 (10:21:07pm) my uber driver’s kinda cute

***

Trixie’s apartment is even quieter than the street when he unlocks the door, props it open with one of the smaller bags, and drags the first suitcase in.

The lights are off and the street lamp light that filters through the window on the far end of the living room casts strange shadows on the furniture. It all looks as if someone snuck in and changed the layout of the room just enough to make it unnerving. Trixie drags the second suitcase in and reaches over to flick the lights on.

In the warm light that floods the space, it looks more like the room Trixie knows well enough that he could give the world’s most underwhelming museum tour: here’s the scratch in the hardwood floor where the legendary Trixie Mattel tried to move a couch on her own, here’s the burn mark on the coffee table where she left a curling iron unattended a moment too long, the curtain rod that’s holding on entirely on regular prayer and balled up gaff tape.

It’s home, and he’s there, and nothing’s changed.

Trixie hauls the rest of the bags in and closes the door. His hand lingers on the doorknob as he exhales a slow, steadying breath and reaches his free hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. His body feels heavy and uncomfortably hot and he wants to sit down for a year.

“Jesus, come on,” he whispers, because he’s the kind of person who talks to himself now, apparently, and pushes himself away from the door.

Trixie leaves the bags pushed up neatly against the wall and then turns the TV on, walks over to open the window, lights a candle on the coffee table, paces until the shadows in the corners of the room soften. It’s home now, and not the twisted Coraline clone version of it from half an hour ago.

He showers and changes into the oldest pair of sweatpants he owns and a faded black t-shirt he doesn’t remember buying. He ends up back in the living room where his phone has been abandoned, screen-side down, since he came home. Trixie settles in the corner of the couch and finally picks it up. It lights up to show the time — just past midnight — and no new notifications.

This time, he rests his thumb on the home button and unlocks the phone, pulling up his messages again. Maybe the text didn’t send, or he somehow missed a notification, or—

He glances down and his stomach turns a little. (The last time Trixie ate was brunch, standing up near a craft services table, and that feels like half a lifetime ago. He should probably do something about that, too.)

Since the last time he checked, the small gray text underneath his message has gone from “Delivered” to “Read 11:27pm”, and then there’s nothing.

The candle on the table wavers as the slightest hint of a merciful late night wind blows in from outside. It smells heavy, oak and mahogany, and he can practically hear Courtney lecturing him about how that’s not a summer scent at all but it’s comforting so he closes his eyes and inhales deeply.

Katya’s not the best at texting. He texts in full, grammatically correct sentences, no emoji, and will usually give up and call when he gets a thought that’s too long to type out or a joke which just has to be delivered a certain way. Sometimes, he opens his texts, glances at them too quickly to even skim through, and clicks out of the app. Trixie’s watched him do that too many times to begin counting.

So maybe that’s what happened. Or maybe he’s working, or he’s with people, or he’s busy, or he just didn’t know what to say.

A slightly manic part of Trixie’s mind clings to the latter, the chance that Katya just didn’t have an answer, that maybe he didn’t spend weeks and weeks drafting the perfect return text, that maybe—

“Shut the fuck up.”

Trixie’s voice comes out loud enough to surprise him as he speaks into the empty room. The train of thought derails and crashes somewhere beyond his own comprehension and he closes his eyes to imagine it burning because fuck this. He knows Katya too well to let himself consider that. It feels unfair to Katya, almost like a betrayal, that his mind would even come up with any of this at all.

The train still burning in the back of his mind, Trixie gets up and fixes himself a drink because being home means he gets to do that, and it can be plain vodka on the rocks and not some watered down cocktail which looks good on camera and leads to the sharpest headaches.

He brings the bottle back to the coffee table, just in case, and settles with a cushion in his lap to watch whatever episode of Snapped is flashing blurry black-and-white photos of a crime scene on TV.

Trixie’s halfway through his second glass when he solves the case before any of the detectives on the screen do. They’re looking at a college roommate.

“It’s clearly the ex,” he says to no one in particular, waving his free hand distractedly at the TV. “Why would he call her three days after her birthday if he didn’t have some unfinished business with her? It’s in the phone records, Jennifer—“

The doorbell rings, inappropriately loud for this time of night. It startles Trixie and he jumps a little, sending vodka splashing over his wrist and dripping onto the cushion. It takes a second to register that he should probably do something about the doorbell and he hasn’t moved when it rings again, three short buzzes telegraphing insistent anxiety.

Trixie scrambles up and walks over to the door with the drink in his hand and the damp cushion tucked under his arm. The peephole has been cracked and speckled with paint for probably decades before he’d moved in, so Trixie just accepts that murder is a very real possibility, and cracks the door open instead.

Katya’s out of breath but smiling, his arms dangling awkwardly at his sides like he wanted to look casual and couldn’t quite remember how to pull it off.

Trixie lets the door swing open all the way as he steps out, wordlessly finding his way into Katya’s arms. The hand that’s not holding a glass presses firmly against Katya’s back right where his ribcage is tangible under the thin cotton of his shirt. Trixie is vaguely aware that he drops the cushion along the way.

He closes his eyes and breathes — sharp, deep breaths as Katya pulls him in closer and holds him tightly, his nose pressed against the short hair on the side of Trixie’s head.

“You bitch,” Trixie starts finally, when he feels steady and trusts his voice.

“I wanted to say hi in person—“

“You absolute whore, I was so worried—“

“Shh. Shut up for half a second,” Katya cuts him off mid-rant and Trixie lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls back just enough to catch his eyes. Katya grins, toothy and wide, and says quietly,

“Hi. Welcome back.”

And Trixie isn’t mad at him for ignoring his text and making him wait anymore because Katya’s beaming at him and it’s worth it.

“Come in, they’re just about to arrest the ex boyfriend,” Trixie says once he realizes that they’re still at the door, and practically out in the hallway.

Katya follows him into the living room, picking up the cushion as he goes.

“Love the mood lighting.”

“I like to create the illusion that I wasn’t watching true crime by myself through candles that smell like men,” Trixie shrugs and Katya cackles and follows immediately with,

“That candle wears an expensive watch and starts ghosting you after the third date.”

Trixie laughs and watches Katya sit down on the couch like he’s in his own living room, humming judgmentally as he flicks the TV off.

“—which is a pity because the one time you fucked in his car it was actually pretty good,” Trixie continues, which gets Katya to hold up a hand to his chest, clutching invisible pearls as he howls with laughter.

“…even though the leather interior sticks to your ass and gives you a really gross rash,” Trixie finishes, and Katya’s doubled over his own knees, laughing hard enough that he snorts gracelessly when he gasps for air.

It’s easy and quick, and Trixie’s heart settles a little as he realizes that this part hasn’t changed, that thankfully, it doesn’t feel off-kilter and unfamiliar the way his apartment had when he came back. They’ve been away from each other too many times for that to be a surprise but this is different, somehow. The room seems cozier with Katya in the center of it, laughing on the couch.

The laughter dies down gradually and fades into a comfortable silence. Trixie is, for some reason, still standing, like an anxious host who isn’t sure if sitting down would be polite just yet.

Katya looks up at him, and then his eyes trail past Trixie and land on the bags by the door.

The silence shifts, now thick like electricity in the air before a storm, like the second of anticipation before a roller coaster drop.

It’s Katya who breaks it. He looks back at Trixie and prompts,

“So?”

Trixie tucks his chin down and glances at the floor. His teeth worry his bottom lip and there are uneasy lines creasing his forehead when he blinks back up at Katya.

Katya, on the other hand, keeps his face almost entirely neutral, except his eyes widen a little (that’s shock), and then narrow (that’s anger), and then the corners of his mouth twitch dangerously (Trixie’s learned that’s outrage),

and it all takes a split second because then Trixie exhales, pushing all of the air out of his lungs, and presses his eyes shut as he nods affirmatively to answer the initial question.

Katya’s face shifts. The lines of it soften and his eyes go wide, and he’s trying not to smile as he rises from his spot on the couch,

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It hits Trixie then, when Katya launches himself at him and envelops him in his arms, and he sob-laughs into Katya’s neck and Katya just holds him tighter and tighter and laughs along with him.

“I told you,” Katya whispers finally, and it comes out shaky but Trixie is crying onto his t-shirt so maybe that’s okay. “I knew it, of course I did, I knew it but— Fuck, it feels fucking good to be right.”

Trixie laughs helplessly and pulls back a little.

“I’m so proud of you,” Katya says, low and private, catching Trixie’s eyes and staring directly at them the way he does when he really, really means business. “No one deserves this more than you do.”

Trixie sniffles as he laughs again. Later, he’s going to have wrapped his mind around it, and he’ll tell Katya just how much this is because of him, because of how they’ve built each other up, because of how fiercely Katya has believed in him and his fantasy that entire time.

Now, the thought of all of that just chokes him up again and Katya’s kissing his forehead as he cries and whispers Thank you, seriously, Katya, thank you thank you thank you.

Katya doesn’t move until the shared sound of wet, tearful laughter fades into another near-perfect silence. His lips are steady against Trixie’s forehead, not quite a kiss now as much as a solid, constant presence, and Trixie feels like his heart might burst open if it lasts a second longer.

He tilts his chin up carefully right as Katya starts to pull away, and their noses bump against each other. The room’s gone terribly quiet; the low murmur of the street feels like it’s coming from some other world.

The soft, dim light from the candle lands at the high point of Katya’s cheekbone and Trixie reaches up distractedly, traces his thumb along the line where that spot of light fades into shadow. Katya watches him silently, intently, his breath coming out hot and shaky against Trixie’s knuckles.

Trixie’s mouth has gone dry.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says, and it comes out in a quiet rasp. “If you don’t mind.”

Katya’s cheek shifts under his thumb as he exhales one beat of a laugh and moves his head in the slightest of nods.

Trixie’s eyes fall shut. He drops his hand from Katya’s face to the back of his neck and tugs him closer, and when Katya’s lips hit his, it’s urgent but soft and for the second time in about twelve hours, Trixie wonders fleetingly if it’s possible to pass out from sheer joy.

Katya has a steady hand at the small of his back and he uses that to steer Trixie over to the couch, not once breaking the kiss for anything longer than one breath.

Trixie moves to sit and Katya follows him down until he’s straddling him, and Trixie cranes his neck up as he chases a deeper kiss. Katya lets his hands drop and slips cool fingertips under the hem of Trixie’s t-shirt. His light touch draws a gasp from Trixie and when he presses harder, Trixie groans into his mouth and drives his hips up.

Katya responds in a low sigh and Trixie reaches up, pressing his dull, short nails at the back of Katya’s head as he runs his teeth lightly over Katya’s bottom lip and then slips his tongue into his mouth.

Katya grinds down in one sharp motion and this time Trixie curses under his breath in response. He’s half hard in his threadbare sweatpants and his head is swimming.

This isn’t the first time this has happened but it’s the first time in a really long time, the first time since the night-long conversations and the agreements and the we can’ts and we shouldn’ts. The thought occurs to him distantly while Katya kisses the juncture of his jaw and his neck, open-mouthed and hot.

“Katya,” he whispers and Katya hums noncommittally in response as he licks his way down Trixie’s neck. “Katya.”

Trixie’s insistent the second time and Katya draws back and looks down at him, and his eyes are dark and wide and it takes Trixie a second to recollect his thoughts.

“Can we?” he whispers finally, because he has to hear it, because Katya could say no and pull away now and it’d be okay, because it’s been both and neither and Trixie needs to know where they stand.

“Rumor on the street is,” Katya starts lightly, arching down to kiss him. “according to recent events,” another kiss, “you can do anything.”

He delivers the last word in a dramatic whisper, and it’s the cheesiest line Trixie’s heard in years and his entire chest hurts as he laughs.

“You’re terrible,” he whispers, and it sounds like anything but. “I changed my mind, I don’t even want to—“

“And that’s okay,” Katya lets his voice drop to a murmur as he speaks just close enough to Trixie’s lips that they almost touch. “But we can. If you wanted to.”

Trixie exhales another laugh, relieved this time, and is still laughing when Katya claims another kiss.

“We should move,” Trixie whispers.

Katya nods and pulls back surprisingly quickly, with the energy of a man driven by pure enthusiasm.

“Hold on— not trying to start a fire,” Trixie says, and bends down to blow the candle out.

Katya has crossed the small distance to the bedroom door already.

“Hey, Tracy,” he calls quietly as the candle goes out.

Trixie looks up. There’s dim light coming through the bedroom window and Katya’s a dark silhouette against the frame of the open door and somehow, even the blurry outline of his figure is beautiful.

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday.”

#cool so i love this #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #tw alcohol #dylann #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant

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lovedmoviesb · 7 years

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Unexpected.

It was the only word that could come to her mind right now, racing through her head on a loop. Sheriff Grimes, Rick, was unexpected. She hadn't expected to operate on him seven months ago, hadn't expected to be so drawn to him while he laid in a coma, hadn't expected him to come looking for her months later.

And she definitely did not expect to be here, naked, panting and still underneath him.

"You ok?" his question rumbled against her bare slick skin, his lips sending goosebumps racing across her body.

She opened her mouth, but could only manage to sigh contently. Rick took the invitation, kissing her again. Michonne reached for him, halfway torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. His scar, still jagged and raised, pressed against the palm of her hand. She succumbed to the pleasure of the feeling of his mouth on hers, parting her lips for him.

His hands made their way to her waist, gripping at her, wandering lower. She pressed herself wantonly into his calloused palms, her legs falling open almost on their own accord. He was inside of her again before either of them knew what was happening. She dug her nails into his shoulders, arching her back and groaning against his mouth.

"God, Michonne," that accent again, deep and enticing.

"How did this happen?" she asked the question, even as her body thrilled at the feel of him.

"I don't know," he sounded just as confused as she was. He paused in his movement, sitting up just slightly, his arms braced on either side of her head. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," she didn't consider the option at all, instead rolling her hips back into his. His moan, low and rough was her reward.

"Thank you," he lowered his face to hers again and she was ready this time, catching his lips with her own. On and on it went, neither quite able to release their hold on the other, until Michonne was sure her body would simply give out, unable to take anymore. Then he would kiss her again, or touch her, or look at her, those blue eyes almost glowing in the low light. Suddenly her exhaustion would evaporate and they'd be right back where they began, wrapped tightly around each other.

It was hours before they finished. Peeling herself away from her new lover, Michonne retreated to the bathroom. Under the florescent light, she studied herself in the mirror, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She was out of practice with this, years removed from the intimacy of having a partner. She'd felt comfortable with her self-imposed celibacy. Now, she was not sure what to do.

She emerged from his modest bathroom to find him standing, still naked and at his dresser.

"I should go," Michonne began, unsure. She was sore in places she'd learned to ignore, drunk off the taste of a man she barely knew.

"You don't have to," he spun around, a dark t-shirt in his hands. He looked as though the thought of her leaving had never occurred to him.

"I don't want to… intrude," it felt absurd to say it out loud. Dinner at a modest Italian restaurant had ended in a sweaty tangle of sheets. Now she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Michonne, I want you to stay," she liked the sound of her name on his lips immensely. Too much.

"All right," She bit her lip, heart pounding, wondering what all of this meant.

He smiled, handing her a the shirt while he pulled on a pair of briefs. "What side do you want?" he asked her, gesturing to the mattress.

"I'm good with whatever," she rarely shared a bed these days.

"Ok," he looked at the queen-sized for a moment, seemingly contemplating something important. At once, he moved to the right side, sliding the covers back for her to join him on the left. She pulled on the warm cotton shirt, breathing in his scent, then climbed in bed.

They faced one another, silently appraising. Rick reached for her, gingerly inching her closer to him until he could wrap his arms around her.

"You know," he started, choosing his words carefully, "this isn't something I do a lot. In fact, I've never done it before."

She smiled at that, his admission relieving her. "Neither do I."

"I really did mean to just buy you dinner," he continued, his lips tilted in just the hint of a grin.

"I really meant to just eat dinner," she told him. She hadn't counted on what his smiles would do to her, hadn't counted on what good company he was when he could talk back. He'd reached for her hand outside the restaurant and she'd lost the battle to stay objective. She still wasn't sure who initiated the kiss that led them here, a few blocks away in his new apartment.

"I'm not sure what this means… and maybe it sounds crazy, but…" Rick broke off. "I feel like I really know you."

Michonne felt a thrill race through her. "I mean, I did talk to you a lot, while you were—" she broke off.

"I know," he kissed her hand. "The nurses told me. Can I ask why you did it?"

She had no real answer so she settled on shrugging. "I didn't want you to be alone," she said simply.

He nodded, looking thoughtful. "My wife—ex-wife," he corrected himself. "She started sleeping with my best friend when I was there."

Michonne worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Rick noticed.

"I think everyone knew but me," he said, the hint of sadness flickering over his face.

"I'm sorry, Rick," she knew that pain intimately, knew what betrayal felt like. "My husband, he left too. Took our son." She missed Andre every day, eagerly counted down the moments until their weekends together.

"Does it get better?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

"I hope so," she whispered back.

She did not remember succumbing to her exhaustion, but the next thing she knew, she was waking up, pressed face down on Rick's bare chest. His hand was laying over her backside, protectively, almost as though he had always done it. It took her a moment for the events of their night together to come rushing back. She realized with a start that her own hand was covering his scar.

"Good morning," he yawned sleepily. If Rick was uncomfortable, he showed no signs of it. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," she found herself smiling at his familiarity.

"Good," he kissed her forehead, adjusting his grip on her. "I'm starving."

"Me too," she stretched against him.

"All right then," he sat up, his hair comically disheveled. "Let's go."

Breakfast (or brunch, rather) was just an unexpected as the night before, but no less pleasant, even outfitted in Rick's t-shirt and too-large basketball shorts. He held her hand on the short walk around the corner and slid into the booth beside her, his fingers still laced with hers.

"We should do this again," he announced ceremoniously around a mouthful of Belgian waffles.

"Ok," she agreed readily.

"Tomorrow?" he asked, just as eagerly.

"Ok," she agreed, helping herself to a bite from his plate. Smiling, he offered her the rest of his bacon.

"Tomorrow," he repeated happily, kissing her hand.

#twd #love.devil.movies.baby #richonne #one shot #awesome readers

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riverofmemoriesft · 7 years

Text

. In Tenebris . 22

Dinner went, to Lucy's surprise, exceptionally well. Everyone was pleasant for the most part. All of the male dragons glowered at Jude when they weren't eating - particularly Natsu and Gajeel, who remembered very clearly the results of this man's actions - while everyone else was civil.

Wendy even struck up a cheerful conversation with Jude as Erza lowered her voice and spoke urgently with Rogue, Sting, and Yukino about what they would be doing when they returned to Crocus within the next few weeks.

Lucy told Erza she was welcome to stay the night - an offer she willingly accepted - and bid her father a hesitant farewell when he left. He said nothing more than a curt good night, but the words weren't as harsh as they'd been before.

The group saw to clean up and by the time she came back, they were nearly done, and Natsu had drawn up a seat beside Lucy when she sat back down, waiting for everyone to join them for Slapjack. He was gnawing on a bone, something that made her grin. No bone had been wasted, she was pleased to declare. They'd shoved more at Sting and Rogue, wondering if it would help them control their scales. He gnawed quietly at what might have been a femur of whatever animal it had belonged to and Lucy, too used to it to be disgusted, offered him a tired smile.

He returned it, just as exhausted as she was.

Levy came out with the cards a moment later, explaining to those who didn't know what slapjack was and how you played it. Juvia looked warily at the dragons, who looked excited. After a word to Levy, she left and came back with a separate deck. "For us who don't want to lose fingers," Levy explained to Lucy.

"I'm just gonna watch," Natsu muttered as Happy slid into his lap, meowing.

"That's fine," Lucy reassured, reaching out to pat his shoulder. Wendy, Chelia, Levy, Yukino, and Juvia gathered with her on one end of the table, the dragons and Erza taking the other deck.

"Are you going to play, Natsu?" Erza questioned.

He shook his head. "No. Not in the mood."

"That's okay," she murmured, patting his shoulder with gentle fingers. "You can watch. And learn for next time."

He smirked. "I'll kick Gajeel's ass next time."

There was the familiar attitude she knew and loved.

After a few more minutes, Slapjack began.

Lucy played with Levy and the other girls. Natsu watched intently as Lucy yelped and yanked her hand back when Juvia smacked her hand down. Shaking out her stinging fingers, she laughed. Wendy whimpered as she drew back her prize.

The girls quickly forgot about their game, however, when the table shook.

"You fucking cheater," Gajeel roared, lunging across the table at Sting.

Erza, a spark of her old attitude back, glared at them. "Language," she hissed.

Rogue calmly slid his hand free and took the cards with him as Sting was distracted, casually putting them in his own hand. Sting shook free of Gajeel when he rocked back in his seat. With a puff of anger, Gajeel slouched back into his chair.

They readied their decks. Their own game forgotten, the females and Natsu all focused on the other game. Gajeel smacked a card down first and the four went around in their circle.

Suddenly, a jack was placed face up on the table after a few cycles.

There was a loud crack followed by screams and shouts as the table suddenly crumpled beneath the hands that were smacked down. Gajeel toppled face first into what was left. Natsu yanked Happy away with a yelp and Erza shrieked in surprise, toppling sideways into Sting, who proceeded to grasp at Rogue to take him down, too.

As silence fell, they all stared at Gajeel, who was guiltily looking at the beautiful table he'd snapped in half. "Well, shit," he said.

Another moment of silence.

And then Levy burst into giggles. Lucy joined her and Natsu cackled at what had happened. Wendy and Chelia joined in alongside Yukino. And then everyone else joined in. They all laughed ridiculously hard at the broken table and Levy was in tears as she gasped, "His face! Gajeel's face!"

Lucy giggled into her fingers, and despite her terror over her father's presence at dinner, her worry for Gray and his family…

She was happy.

The next morning, Levy sidled out of her room with a yawn. She quietly padded into the main room to see if Erza was still asleep, keeping quiet when she saw that the scarlet-haired woman was still curled up contently on the couch. She glanced over her shoulder to look at the table again - and then paused.

The fragments of the dining table were gone.

Curious, Levy stepped over and looked at where it had been. The chairs had been shoved up against the walls. She tilted her head with a thoughtful look. Had Lucy beaten her to waking up? It wouldn't surprise her. Since Lucy had started hearing the Spirits, she had barely been able to sleep. It might have been Yukino, or even Rogue…

"The fuck are you doin' up, Shrimp?"

Levy looked over her shoulder, not the least bit startled. Gajeel was standing behind her, hands shoved into his pockets. He squinted at her from wary crimson eyes, as if waiting for her to say something.

"Work," she admitted. "Droy's sick, so I'm opening and staying all day." She beamed. "You can come if you want."

"Nah," he disagreed, keeping his voice low with a wary look over at the sleeping Erza. "Don't like goin' there. Was gonna see if you or Bunny Girl could take me to the Fairy Tail place so I could start figurin' out what to do with my shop. Need money to do it."

"Ooh, let me know what happens," she said with a broad smile. "I can drop you off if you want. And you can come help out afterwards."

He grunted in response and she took it as a yes. After a moment, he rumbled, "Sorry 'bout your table. I cleaned it up."

Levy had to stifle her giggles. "It's fine, Gajeel," she reassured, smirking. "We needed a less rich looking one anyways. Lucy will handle buying a new one, I'm sure. I bet she'll take Natsu and Wendy to get one today. We kind of need it."

Gajeel gave her a long look. "You gonna be okay at work today?"

She caught what he meant and nodded slowly, looking at her hands. "As far as I know, I should be. Nothing's really all that wrong with me. I haven't had any pain outside of a few bruises from fighting and a burn or two from Natsu. Outside of the phone incident, I haven't seen anything though, so…" She flashed him a broad smile. "Thank you for what you did. The questions and stuff. I owe you one."

"You could buy dinner," he said casually and she paused, giving him a look of surprise. But then she grinned, her hazel eyes lighting up.

"I could," she hummed, "Or you could instead."

"I think you forget that one of us is broke and the other isn't," he pointed out, suddenly serious, and Levy grimaced, flushing.

"Right. You're the broke one. Got it." He mock glared at her and she grinned before winking and going to find her purse. "Come on, go get some shoes on if you want me to drop you off at Fairy Tail. We need to leave sooner if we're stopping there…"

Gajeel nodded and then slid into the hallway that led to the rooms. Levy watched him go and shook her head to herself.

"I see you're getting along well."

Levy nearly jumped out of her skin as she whipped around to look at the sleepy and amused Erza. Her gaze was still exhausted despite her sleep and Levy found herself worried for her. She'd gone under experimenting, too, she realized. Frowning, Levy approached the couch and leaned over the back of it, beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired, though I suppose you're more curious about what's been done to me." Erza smiled kindly when Levy flushed again. "It's alright to ask, Levy. It's good to discuss this sort of thing. I'd like to know more about what happened to you as well."

"When I write with my finger, things promptly burst into flames as we've learned," Levy admitted.

Erza chuckled. "Ah, and when I flick my fingers a certain way-" She did so, swiftly moving her fingers, and Levy gasped in surprise when a blade appeared out of nowhere. It was a small but sharp dagger. "It can come in handy, I suppose, the day they go too far. I don't remember anything about what they gave me."

"Where does it go?" Levy asked as she flicked her fingers and the blade disappeared. "Do you know?"

"No," she murmured. "But it is a current theory that they reside within my bones, or even a pocket of space that has been ripped open around me. They've been at it for weeks with no answer."

"That's nice, at least they can't get anything out of it, right?" Levy mused. She looked over her shoulder when Gajeel cleared his throat. He was waiting by the top of the stairs. She smiled broadly at him and then turned her face back to Erza. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, but thank you, Levy. If you don't mind, I think I'll rest some more." Erza smiled sleepily and then curled back up on the couch. Levy left her to peacefully nap and joined Gajeel. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded silently.

She smiled at him. "Then let's head out, shall we?"

Levy headed for the front doors without waiting for him, knowing he would follow.

It was nearly mid-morning before everyone finally got up and started moving. Erza left around the time Lucy got up, bidding them all farewell with a warm smile. Lucy wished her luck.

"I'll need it," she'd murmured.

Now, after a quick brunch, Lucy found herself lounged on the couch with all five cats curled up around her, a storm of purring escaping them. She giggled when Happy batted gently at her face, as if sensing that her head hurt. He mewed softly and Lucy scratched his chin. From where he sat on the floor beside the couch, giving looks of betrayal, Natsu muttered, "Traitor."

"Natsu," Wendy whispered, nudging him. "Watch the movie!"

Everyone but Levy and Gajeel had gathered around the TV to watch a movie. Lucy had put it on for all of them in hopes that it would keep them quiet. Her head ached fiercely. There had been no voices, as she'd taken the pills supplied by Zeref, and while it bothered her to silence them like that, it was nice to have peace and quiet for the time being. But it did nothing for her pounding head.

The dragons had somehow sensed it, all four quiet throughout the morning. Natsu had kept a sharp eye on her while Yukino took care of everything else. Juvia had watched over Chelia with a warm affection.

Lucy smiled a little and ran her fingers through Happy's blue fur. He arched his back beneath her touch with a mew, her eyes fluttering shut as she prepared to doze off-

A blast of heat suddenly slammed into her.

Lucy's eyes snapped open and Natsu hastily yelped apologies as he promptly burst into flames, his red eyes flashing with frustration. He leaned away from the couch as Happy bristled his fur in alarm, the other four cats fleeing. Frosch leaped into Rogue's lap while Lector fled to Yukino's. Charle and Lily practically climbed Lucy's face.

"Sorry!" he nearly wailed. "I can't help it!"

Juvia hesitated and then just splashed him, swatting at him with a liquified arm. Natsu grimaced at the steam that rose above his blackened arms, the horns on his head curled brutally above it. "Thanks."

"Juvia is glad to help."

Natsu let loose a huge breath. Lucy reached out and playfully tugged on a horn, forcing his head towards her. "It's not your fault, Natsu."

"I know. It still sucks."

"It does suck," Sting agreed, "But it could be a lot worse."

"What the hell could be worse than being experimented on?" Rogue huffed. "Please, Sting, enlighten us."

"You could be stuck in their labs," Chelia said quietly.

They all stared at the pink-haired "god", as she'd been labeled. There was an uncomfortable moment in which Rogue and Sting quietly nodded their agreement, remembering their own times in the lab, and then Natsu hesitantly returned to his place by the couch. Happy glared at him and then curled up against his neck, between he and Lucy's belly.

Everyone relaxed and there was relieved sighs from all around.

The rest of them returned to the movie, and Lucy gently ran her fingers through Natsu's hair, trying to soothe him in an attempt to help him get rid of the bothersome horns atop his head. She studied the new ones, how they were as black as his currently taloned hands. Heat came off of him in waves, but no new fire sprang to life.

Her scarred fingers paused and he surprised her by making a low keening whine in the back of his throat, unhappy. Sting looked over, snickered, and then returned his attention to the movie. Giggling softly, Lucy returned her hand to his head and repeated her previous actions.

This kept up - until the door burst open beneath them with a slam.

Instinct kicked in and Lucy screamed as Natsu's rush to throw himself protectively over her had the couch tipping over. Sting lurched to try and stop them from going, tripped over the side that was up, and grunted as he tumbled beside them. Happy, spitting angrily, bolted. Rogue towered over Wendy and Chelia, lips pulled back as Yukino calmly exchanged an exasperated look with Juvia.

"Natsu!" Lucy wailed, trying to shove the overheated man off of her. "You're like a thousand pounds, get off!"

"I'm trying!" he snapped, yanking his horns free of the couch and accidentally tearing it. He clicked his jaws in frustration and slithered away. Lucy gasped for air.

Thudding up the steps had her tilting her head to look as she rolled onto her belly. A white-faced Gray stood there.

"Gray," Lucy wheezed, shooting to her feet and stumbling over when she saw the blood dripping from nasty wounds all over. She lunged for him just a second before he hit the ground on his knees, spitting and coughing the sticky red liquid everywhere. "Gray, what-"

"Ur," he sobbed. "She's…"

Lucy's face paled.

Wendy and Chelia rushed over. Chelia hesitated as Gray suddenly heaved, vomiting blood, but Wendy didn't look the least bit intimidated, plunging her small hands forward. She rested them over his chest, trilling, "Chelia!"

Chelia hesitantly came closer and did as Wendy began to tell her, using her healing abilities to try and gently do what she could.

"Juvia!" Lucy shouted, throwing her phone to the water woman. "Call Makarov and get him to send someone over to Gray's place."

"Okay," Juvia whispered, horrified. Her blue eyes stared openly at the nearly unconscious man.

Gently, Lucy rested her hand on his shoulder. "Gray," she urged. "Gray, what happened?"

"I don't know," he rasped. "I was havin' lunch with Ur, and then there was this crash...the next thing...I knew...Ur was...and I was being tied down…" He wheezed, unable to gulp down air, nearing hysteria. Lucy rubbed his shoulder soothingly, looking helplessly to the others. She didn't remember her own home being invaded when she was kidnapped. Sting and Rogue didn't really count when it came to breaking in anymore. He shuddered. "They kept...cutting and Ur was...Ur was screaming-"

"Okay," she said softly, cutting him off. She checked Wendy's progress. Wendy was shivering, her eyes round with worry. She gave a curt nod when she caught Lucy looking; he would heal physically.

Lucy was more concerned about his mental state.

"How'd he get here?" Rogue suddenly said quietly. Silence fell and Gray didn't answer. "There's no way he could have driven in this condition, so how," Rogue repeated, a growl in his voice, "Did you get here, Gray?"

A low sound came from Natsu's throat, suspicion in his eyes as he reached out and yanked Lucy and Wendy away. Chelia scampered back on her own. "Natsu," Lucy started, but he growled to shush her.

Something was wrong here.

Gray was quiet as they stared at him. But then his black eyes flickered with agitation. He heaved himself upright, staggering on his feet. He looked better, with the help of Wendy and Chelia. Natsu wasn't entirely sure he appreciated it now. Sting shifted, body tensed and coiled in preparation.

"I ran the whole way," Gray said sarcastically, bitter. He took a huge shaken breath. Natsu bared his teeth, inky marks spreading over his skin when the black-haired man stumbled a step closer. He backed Lucy and Wendy away rapidly. "Fine, I was driven." He took another shaky gulp of air. Lucy watched her friend desperately as mist seemed to creep up his fingers. Tiredly, he watched it happen without a hint of surprise.

"If I touch a steering wheel right now, the car will break anyways."

Juvia was the only one to step up, edging closer rather than away.

"Gray," she said softly. "Who drove you here?"

"Don't know." His black eyes leaped up to Juvia's face, taking her in for a long moment. "Some lady. She wasn't very nice."

Lucy bit her lip so hard it bled.

She so desperately wanted to go to her friend of countless years. Gray had helped her so much, especially recently. And if Ur really was…then he needed comfort. Particularly with his siblings still missing. She gently gripped Natsu's arm and stepped around the fire dragon, the heat dying down almost immediately.

"Gray," she began, but before she could finish speaking, Gray lunged.

Natsu roared in rage when he crashed into her, sending her rolling. Lucy screeched and Yukino cried out in shock and fear for her friend. Natsu leaped at Gray, fully intending to incinerate the man as he bent over her, struggling as Lucy thrashed to free herself.

"Hold still, damn it," he snapped in her ear.

And plunged a syringe into her neck.

Levy was delighted when the bell rang, signaling a customer, and Gajeel stepped in. Her hazel eyes sparkled as he rolled his eyes, entirely amused with her excitement. "How'd it go?"

"Ordered some stuff I'll need with Gramps' money," he told her. Levy's lips twitched at the idea of him calling Makarov Gramps. "Should be here in the next month or so, but he gave me a credit card to use so I can start setting up shelves and little things I'll need."

"Good." Levy said cheerfully. "I'll be the first on your waitlist so that I can decorate my counter." She tapped the wood she leaned on. "It needs some decorations. I'm thinking something of yours will do it a world of good."

Gajeel snickered, crimson eyes glittering with amusement. "Works for me. Advertisement. I'll even make some bookends or somethin'."

"Ooh, I like that idea." Levy shifted back, fixing her headband.

"Oh," a voice suddenly muttered, sulky. "You're here."

"Jet," Levy protested as her friend slunk into view, practically pouting at the sight of Gajeel. "Leave him alone. He has as much a right to be here as you do. Besides, he's exchanging services with us. We'll show off some of his works and he's going to make them for free."

"I never said for free," Gajeel muttered to himself. "Need the money."

Levy overheard and waved off his concern. "Lucy can pay you. Anyways, do you need a ride home? I can take you."

"Nah." Gajeel gave a large yawn, looking very much like a cat as his tongue curled. His piercings glinted in the light that filled the room. "I'm just gonna take a nap on one of those couches you have in your little employee room. We can head out when you're done working."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second." Jet straightened, gaze darting back and forth between them. "Is he living with you?"

Levy paused, opening her mouth to answer. She was fish-like as she closed it and then opened it again, making Gajeel cackle as he waited for her to answer her snappy friend. Her phone rang suddenly and he plucked it from behind the counter despite her whine of protest. Answering the call, he grunted, "'Sup."

"...oh! Gajeel!"

"Juvia," he said carefully, looking at Levy. She became concerned and demandingly held her hand out, glaring when he merely tilted out of her way, height an advantage for the time being. Jet looked shocked that she wasn't trying to knee him for taking her phone and answering it without permission.

"Um," Juvia said nervously, "Gajeel. Um."

"Are you going to speak?"

"Juvia is thinking of how to put this."

There was a sudden shuffle followed by a wail of protest. A snarl was given in response and then Gajeel growled as he focused on the background noise. He could hear screaming and what sounded like Natsu roaring his fury followed by cursing and shouts. "What the fuck is going on?!"

"Gray attacked Lucy," Sting snarled into the phone a second later. "He went nuts. Showed up bleeding all over the place, claimed his mom was what we assume to be dead, and then tackled her and gave her some kind of injection."

Gajeel stiffened. "Are you serious? Where's Salamander?"

"Trying to kill Rogue so he can kill Gray. Wendy and Chelia are working with Yukino. Lucy had some kind of reaction to the serum. We don't know what to do. We can't exactly call an ambulance, you know?"

"Did you call Fernandes or scary lady?"

"Yeah. Both. Jellal's seeing what he can do, but Erza didn't pick up." Sting made a sound of distress. "Lucy can't breathe, Gajeel. Her heart stopped for a second. Yukino, Juvia, and I are taking turns with CPR. She's still fighting, but she can't...she's struggling and failing."

Gajeel let loose a large breath. "And Wendy or the little god can't do anything?"

"They've tried. Wendy's panicking and in hysterics. Chelia doesn't know what to do. Should we get into contact with Wendy's aunt?"

"I'm on it. You focus on keeping Bunny Girl alive until we get there." His gaze darted to Levy, who went white when she heard him. "We'll be there soon. Don't let Salamander get to Fullbuster. We gotta figure out why he'd turn on her like that."

"Right. Not a problem. He hasn't moved since Rogue kicked him."

Gajeel hung up and shoved the phone at Levy. "We gotta go. Now. Do you know how to get to that Porlyusica lady?"

"Y-yes. Gajeel, what's wrong with Lucy?" Levy snatched up her belongings. "Jet, please. Please. I know I haven't been in a lot, but-"

"Go. I don't know what's going on, but go. If Lucy's hurt or something, you need to be there." Jet gave her a reassuring look. "I'm pissed, but I'm not that pissed. I'll call in one of our other volunteers."

"Thank you," Levy said fiercely. "I'll tell you two what's going on someday, I promise." She reached out and squeezed his hand for a moment before bolting out of the store, Gajeel hot on her heels.

Her heart raced at the thought of what must be happening to her closest friend.

She wondered just what the hell Gray had done.

33 notes · View notes

elysiumrp · 7 years

Photo

Congratulations RY! You have been accepted as Jacob Newton. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.

There’s always such a thrill when it comes to hunters in a supernatural-themed roleplay, and when one of the hunters we wrote that is “the worst�� – depending on how you’re viewing it – you can say we both got excited over this. It’s clear that you’ve had more than enough experience to show that a character like Jacob is a simple walk in the park for you, but the way you describe how you’ll execute the character, it was spot on. Jacob is a hunter, plan and simple. He doesn’t just kill the good ones, doesn’t give them a trial period to see if he truly wants to take the supernatural out, no. He’s strategic in his actions and the course you have set for him is exactly how we imagined his would be. It’s always fun to see the dramatic irony between it, knowing what Jacob is there to do and the other characters not knowing. All I can say is that I’m glad we found a person who will conduct such an intense symphony and that it’s you we’re choosing to do so. Welcome to Elysium!!

OOC INFO

Name: Ry Age: 23 Timezone: EST Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Previous RP Experience: [RFP] Activity Level: Tricky question. I work night shifts most days and on the weekends, I’m gonna be pretty much nonexistent. Seriously, Imma be a ghost and that’s speaking honestly which is why I understand if you wouldn’t accept me based on that alone. It’s summertime so that means I work till at least 2 every night and since I gotta have a bite to eat and then wind down, I’m usually up till at least 4 just getting myself ready to pass out for the night. Because I knock out so late, I’m usually asleep till it’s time for me to get up again and get ready for work so I can do the whole thing over again. So yeah, ghost on the weekends but I usually got two days off and if I’m not distracted by the newest game I’ve spent my hard earned bucks on and I got the muse, I’ll likely be on trying to get some posts out. I’ll also have time to reply either early in the morning before work or after work during the weekdays since I don’t get off too late during those times for my head to just be complete shit. Anything Else: I wrote this while I was very tired. Don’t judge, pls?

IC INFO

Character Name: Jacob Newton Why did you choose this character:

Yet another tricky question for me. I wrote so many different answers for this question that you’d think I was trying to write an entrance letter to my dream college or something but honest to god, can’t really give you a straight answer to this one. When I play hunter’s they’re stoic, sadistic, assholes whose mind is only set on gutting and killing however many supernatural creatures they can get their hands on. When not playing as a hunter in a supernatural RP, my characters are pretty much still the same. Drain, hack, and basically dismember whomever gets in your way and not give a fuck about any such thing as consequences for one’s actions. That one thing my character’s usually all have in common in RPs like these? They’re all pretty much serial killers and they all in some way or another play the role as the antagonists. I like playing as the villain, I like playing as the guy that basically comes in and is like ‘I’m here strictly to ruin your fun’. That’s my type of character and I guess that’s the reason I’m finding muse for Jacob. He’s not in any way, shape or form the main antagonist but he is part of the problem. Here’s a hunter whose sole purpose in life is to rid the world of supernatural creatures and rather than do it as most others would by stabbing at the front, he’s instead actually employing a sort of tactic that would effectively allow him to stab these people in the back. I love the hell out of that. He’s here to deceive these people, and if I’m allowed to be the writer I get to work at finding a way for my character to gain their trust just so he can pull that off. In making Jacob such a way, I get to actually plot with others and have it go further than just ‘well… he kinda sorta hates your character and would you like to do something where he attacks them?’ Plots for Jacob can go beyond that cause we can talk about ways in which my character can in time earn yours trusts or even if it’s possible to do so in the first place. Pretty damn sure I’m explaining it all wrong but basically, I like the character and for some odd reason he’s interesting enough for me to want to take a crack at him. He falls into the type of character I typically play but with a little more depth to him and with a different enough take on how he gets shit done for me to see myself really enjoying plying as him if chosen. Can’t give you a better or clearer answer than that.

Describe your plan for them:

Step one for Jacob? Expand on his connections while also reinforcing the ones he currently has. The whole point of the wolf in sheep clothing’s thing is to gain people’s trust so that when he’s ready to go for the kill, his victim count isn’t in the single digits but are instead in the double, even triple digits. He wants to eradicate races and you don’t do that by being hasty so step one is making connections. I want to connect with people and most of all, I want him to connect with the right people. Merlot? Prime vampire spot I would love for him to eventually find out about. Kyle? The cousin to the girl he’s currently dating? I’d love for him to at least be given the chance to try and earn the wolf’s trust. I want him talking to people and making connections cause that’s the only way for my character to succeed in his plan and I want to go along with the plan the admins created for Jacob. I love the plan! It’s the reason I’m trying for him so obviously I love it. Him getting out there and building a relationship with people is the only way I’ll ever be able to get to step two and I want to get to step two cause it’s my favorite. Step two is obviously the betrayal. I want that. Seriously, I want it. I want to have built up relationships that we as the players fucking adore. Relationships that make us look forward to coming on the dash everyday and I want to destroy that cause my character no matter what, is gonna betray them. It’s in his nature and it’s all an act. I know for sure I’m going to love the hell out of the relationships and friendships I may manage to build for Jacob while he’s pretending but it will eventually break and when it does, I’m gonna love the hell out of playing that out too. I want to go through the plan you have for the dude, I want to make my own plans along the way that play along with the kind of role you created for him. I don’t got exact details but I know step one and step two and that’s a start.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the initial reveal of the supernatural world:

When the supernatural reveal happened, I can basically see Jacob having this ‘oh shit’ moment. Something that was supposed to be a secret, something all of them knew was supposed to be kept a damn secret was revealed to the world in the most spectacular of ways. So yeah, initial reaction for him would be one of shock and confusion. Why would the hunter do such a thing? What could have possessed him to do it? Was this in some way shape, or form a ploy by the supernatural? Were they controlling the hunter? He would ask himself all these questions, do the research, and figure out just what the hell was going on and if it was all real of not and what was to happen from then on. Once he got all the answers he needed though, I think he’d mostly just find the whole thing amusing. When he had a moment to think about it, truly think about it and dwell on it, he’d see that being exposed wasn’t such a bad thing. Exposing the secret didn’t harm him or his kind. Despite them having a hand in it there wasn’t about to be a blow back to the hunter community. In fact, the more he dwelled on it, I’m sure he came to the rightful conclusion that letting the public know that monsters were real would only help his people. They lived in the dark, never able to take credit for their work and always having to take caution in just how they got the job done. With things coming to light? They no longer had to hide. His people could legitimize hunters, allow others to know the heroes who worked diligently to protect them day in and day out. While he himself wasn’t so much looking for a pat on the back for doing the job, he would believe them going legit would make the job easier. While he himself saw every monster as just that, a beast that needed to be put down, the average joe saw the mask they put up. They saw Tom who worked in accounting, or Sue who served them drinks and had a funny little joke to share with them come time for brunch. Letting real people know these supposed ‘people’ were in fact just rabid animals in disguise could mean he’d no longer have to work so hard in order to kill ‘em and hide their body. Eradicating them would be easier. Completely destroying them would no longer just be a pipe dream for him and his people. So yeah, shocked and confused at first by the reveal but in a short time, he’d see it as a blessing.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the current state of the world, and how it impacts them as an individual:

The world’s fucked and Jacob is rightfully furious about the state of the world. One can assume that for centuries hunters have had to sacrifice their loved ones for the job. They put their lives at risk for it with a single minded goal only to be told that, now that it’s out in the open, the government is willing to give these monsters a clean slate. The mountains upon mountain of blood on their hands? We’ll forget it happened. Register, abolish your ways, follow the rules and anyone who rightfully kills you like the beast you are is going to be in trouble for it. It’s like a stab in the back for Jacob. The smart, nasty ones who know there are those out there who would gladly put a bullet to the brain upon first glance are always the quick ones to get registered. Can’t have a hunter taking you out like a dog in the street if you’re registered. Can’t be shot down like the beast you are if you’re registered. It makes the job harder for him. It’s easier in some ways cause he can be more open about things but the registration act and these so called rights they’re giving them, not only leaves a bad taste in his mouth but just makes him all the more furious. He doesn’t think it’s right and with those he doesn’t have to pretend with, he makes it known just how backwards he thinks the whole damn thing is. The only right a monster should have is the right so a slow and painful death. That’s it.

Para Sample:

They were just lies. When you were younger they were the things you’d receive a swift slap to the hand for. It was the one thing your parents hated more than anything else. The one thing they warned you against doing because they knew as everyone seems to come to understand at some point that lies are bad. Never lie to us. Never lie to me. No matter where you came from, no matter what sort of background you hailed from, it was something most had in common. It was a cardinal rule, if you wanted to be trusted and you wanted people to actually give a damn about you, you didn’t lie. No one likes a liar. No one trusts a liar. Lying, short of assault was that one thing that that could automatically mean the end of whatever friendship or relationship you’d put whatever effort into. Hell, even if you weren’t dropped for telling a lie, you’d certainly never be trusted again. Once a liar, always a liar.

Your parents taught you the rule, your teachers taught it too. It was universal. You don’t fucking lie and yet, despite hearing it time and time again, that was exactly what he was doing cause for him, it was just lies. It was a means to an end. Breaking someone’s trust? Losing the relationship he’d put months into? They weren’t things he cared about. All he cared about, all he could afford to care about was perpetuating the lie and getting what he wanted – no. It wasn’t a want. It was more than that. Calling it a want was underselling it cause it was so much more to him. It was a need. Getting what he wanted was his burning desire. It was his dream. It was for this dream that he was willing to sacrifice whomever he needed. It was for this dream of his that he planned to do exactly that. It would pay off in the end and these lies of his, that ones that were so easy for him to keep track of cause he had gotten so good at knowing them, the lies that easily fell from his lips would pay off in the end. He was sure of it. So sure of it that with each passing day, he allowed himself to dig even deeper. Allowed himself to be buried that much more. Expand his circle, expand the lies.

“No, no, I’m listening,” There’s a pause, a break in his defense as he listens to his girlfriend argue with him. “I’m listening! It’s not my fault if you think I’m not.” Chuckling softly as he attempts to push his point across, to anyone who glanced at the male he’d simply look and certainly sound like a young man clearly in love having a good natured argument with his girlfriend. It’s the type of scene people who’ve experience love would simply shake their head at while their lips curled up into the tiniest of smiles as they reminisced over their own love and similar conversations they’ve had with their significant others. It was cute. It was endearing. It looked exactly as it needed to look and for Jacob that was perfect. Playing up his role as the loving boyfriend all while he did as he needed, all while he furthered his little plan and used the woman whose heart he didn't need to guess at to know he had, it all feel into place so perfectly. “Wanna make a bet?” Eyes trained on the bespectacled monster sitting but two chairs down from him, drawing a rough sketch of the beast in the book laid out before him as he spoke, he continued. “Come on. If you’re so sure I wasn’t listening then bet me. If I win, you…” drawling out the word with a suggestive lilt, those his voice held all the traits of an amused man, in reality he was anything but. How was he to be amused? How was he to be happy and amused when he had a bastard of a beast sitting just inches from him sipping from a latte as if he hadn’t a care in the world? It was enough to make his blood burn.

“Ah, ah, ah! No, no, no. It doesn't work like that. You gotta take the bet in order to hear the conditions.” Connecting the last line for his image, though snapping pictures was the ideal way of identifying and remembering his various targets, when forced to get up and close with them in such a manner, sometimes he just had to resort to the basics. Vampires weren’t the vest as recognizing basic technology but they certainly knew enough to know when someone was snapping a picture of them. If he wanted to continue to lie the next day, the better option was to draw and remain inconspicuous. “Nope! Too late. Hey, babe?” Pausing in order to place his sketch in his bag, having done all he could and needed to do for the day in regards to watching the individual and having his fill of being around animals, he rose to his feet. “What do you say about catching a movie?” He asked, throwing the question her way as he exited the building. “Yeah, well, I mean I finished my coffee, you’re obviously not doing anything so we should do something. Come on! What do you say?”

Any questions/concerns/things you’d like to change: (siblings to add, pronouns, sexuality you’d like to specify, personality, face claim, history, etc., etc.)

Nope!

#accepted #rp #rpg #roleplay #role play

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artificialqueens · 8 years

Text

New Man Part 3 // Rolling in the Deep (Biadore) - Fucking Awful.

A/N: Back with Part 3 of the New Man saga! Another 3500 words of Biadore angst that I swear is going to get happy in a chapter or so. I think there will be 5 chapters, maybe a 6th. Few things:

First, funny story: “Fucking Awful” was actually supposed to be the name of Chapter 2, but because I’m a dumbass and don’t understand the naming conventions it ended up as my author name. AND I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT because you know what, I am fucking awful.

Second: This is back in Danny’s POV. I like switching back and forth, but I feel I get Danny (or the version of him that lives in my trash brain) a little better. There are few train of thought moments, designated by italics.

Third: Back to song inspiration, this time from a different British redhead – the goddess Adele, and “Rolling in the Deep.“ (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYEDA3JcQqw) No one is singing, its just a soundtrack to what happens here. Lyrics are in italics AND indented.

Fourth: Let me know if these are too long and wordy. It’s something I get critiqued on professionally, so I’m keen to reel in unnecessary words in my creative/for fun writing.

Alright that’s it, hope you enjoy this! XOXO Fucking Awful

“Oh shut UP!” Danny yelled at no one in particular, grasping blindly for his phone to shut off the alarm. “Fuck! Shit! Balls!” He finally managed to quiet the Marimba. 10:12am. An hour and 33 minutes until Johnny would be there to pick him up. Just enough time for a run – Danny was into fitness now – and a shower before brunch with his friends and…oh God.

Danny remembered he had to see Roy today, and out came a full body groan. He had spent the last 2 weeks telling his crew how excited he was for them to meet Roy – his Willow and his best friend, not just that guy from TV. But now everything was so utterly fucked, and after last night he could barely look at Roy let alone fawn over him at a bottomless brunch. Dragging himself out of bed and into workout clothes, Danny mentally prepared for what was coming.

Roy is cheating on his boyfriend. Roy is trying to cheat on his boyfriend with you. You basically told him to fuck off and that you don’t want to know him anymore. Now you are going to spend the whole day with him. Party.

He was now fully awake, partially from the blast of cold Seattle air but mostly from seething anger. What in the fuck did Roy think he was doing? The Haylock he knew wasn’t a cheater, he wasn’t even into open relationships. Moreover, he knew infidelity was the ultimate sore spot for Danny.

They’d talked about this a million times, and Danny had probably cried about it a million more. Adore’s free love persona had made a lot of guys think they could take advantage of Danny, both cheating on him and using him as an instrument of their own cheating. Every time it crushed Danny, made him feel worthless. A committed relationship is a committed relationship, and stepping out on a partner is the ultimate sign of betrayal and disrespect. Fuck that guy (Kyle? Tyler? Who cares.) that Roy was dating, but he still didn’t deserve to be cheated on.

And Danny didn’t deserve to be treated like a whore. That Roy thought Danny would be ok with being the Other Man was what hurt and angered him the most. Danny could feel his heart racing as he stretched. He had to calm down and play this afternoon all flazeda, so his friends wouldn’t ask questions. He knew they saw Roy making out with the stranger, something they were sure to ask about, but there’s no way they saw the 7 seconds in Heaven outside. If Danny could just act normally, he could help Roy deflect uncomfortable quest –

“Oh fuck THAT!” Again, to no one in particular. He knew what he was listening to for the next five miles, on a loop…

There’s a fire starting in my heart Reaching a fever pitch, and it’s bringing me out the dark

—

An hour and a half later, Danny was showered and getting ready – still blasting “Rolling in the Deep” on repeat.

Finally I can see you crystal clear Go ‘head and sell me out, and I’ll lay your shit bare

The “chill” plan was no more. Some combination of Adele and adrenaline transformed hurt and disappointed Danny into a pissed off, vengeful queen. He was rocking an all-black look to brunch – hair tied back under a beanie, long sweater and t-shirt, jeans and Docs – but he painted on some red eye shadow for a little extra fire.

In the years he had known Roy, Danny had never been really and truly mad at him. Annoyed or frustrated, sure, but never angry. So this full-body heartburn of rage that was coursing through his veins and shooting out his fingertips was strange to say the lest.

See how I leave with every piece of you Don’t under estimate the things that I will do

“If you’re going to listen to music about a woman scorned, shouldn’t you at least play Lemonade?” Johnny let himself into the apartment, sneaking past Danny who was too wrapped up in belting along with the track.

“Beyoncé may be the queen, but Adele is still good shit.” Danny didn’t even glance up, finishing the smoky rust around his lids. “Plus this track fucking goes.” He turned up the stereo louder with one hand, swiping on mascara with the other.

Johnny reached over to stop the music. “Speaking of going, we have to. Jinkx is picking up Roy” – Danny flinched imperceptibly - “and everyone else is already there. If we don’t leave now we’re gonna be…Oh, I’m sorry. Is heroin chic a daytime look now?” Johnny raised an eyebrow.

Danny smirked and chucked his mascara at his cousin. “Fuck all the way off, let’s go.”

—

Baby I have no story to be told But I’ve heard one on you and I’m gonna make your head burn

Much to Johnny’s chagrin, the Adele fest continued in the car. The full 20-minute drive was spent listening to the thumping kick-drum and haunting chorus, Danny swatting his hand away anytime he tried to switch the music.

“Dude, c’mon. This is the eighth time; can we please listen to literally anything else?”

“No. I need to feel…empowered.” Danny didn’t want to elaborate.

“Empowered to do what? Look, I know some weird stuff happened last night – great job making it awkward, by the way, don’t think we didn’t all notice – but can we please not make a scene today? I have people to impress.”

Danny knew that Johnny was trying to date one of his new friends, and he was fully in support of his cousin getting it in. “It wasn’t me who – I didn’t – ok.” Instead of turning it off, Danny reached over and cranked the music louder.

Think of me in the depths of your despair Make a home down there, ‘cause mine sure won’t be shared

If he wasn’t going to say anything to Roy, at least he could feel the revenge fantasy for the rest of the drive.

–

The table of 15 was taking up the back patio of a little hipster spot in Capitol Hill. Johnny had almost immediately broken off to make romantical moves, so Danny settled into the open seat opposite Roy and Jinkx.

“Hey Danny! Doesn’t someone look nice today!” Jinkx had a smile plastered on his face, while Roy sat next to him looking more than a little sullen.

Danny reminded himself to keep it together, for Johnny’s sake. “Thanks! Felt pretty chill when I woke up this morning, but it wouldn’t be me without something a little ratchet.” Good, normal conversation.

“Well jeez, way to assume he was talking about you queen.” The words flew out of Roy’s mouth so fast, he almost looked like he was surprised he said them out loud. Danny reacted sharply, brow furrowed and lip curled as he shook his head ever so slightly.

“I was, of course I was!” Danny heard a muffled THUD under the table, and saw Roy flinch. “I love it. Seattle looks good on ya, kid. Doesn’t it, Roy?” Danny thought it was strange that Jinkx was speaking to Roy like he was scolding a toddler.

“Of course, I’m kidding.” More strangeness, Roy sounded almost sheepish. “You look great. You always look great.”

We could’ve had it all Rolling in the Deep

As angry as he was, Danny couldn’t help smile at the complement. How did Roy continue to have this effect on him?

You held my heart inside your hand And you played it to the beat

“Yeah well, adopting the finer points of your clown makeup has its perks. Color can be a good thing.” Roy smiled a bit at that, melting Danny like ice in the desert.

What the fuck are you doing? Remember how you feel!

Danny snapped out of it. “I’m fucking starving, what are you guys getting? Jesus, what food could we even fit here? There’s no space.” He made a show of feeling cramped, and hollered across the table. “Katie, can we try to –“

“Well hey there bitches, room for one more?”

Danny whipped around, as if he needed to see who it was to know the voice. Entrance sisters are forever, after all.

“Not for you, you sneaky little shit! You’re back early!” He jumped out of his seat to hug DeLa, who wasn’t supposed to be back from Australia for another three days. God, Danny was happy to see Ben.

“Yeah well, for a penal colony the Land Down Under is surprisingly low on eligible dick. I think I’ve made my way through the entirety of New South Wales at this point.” DeLa waved to the rest of the table before making his way over to Jinkx and Roy.

“Did you borrow my sailboat to get back here, you twat? Come ‘ere.” Roy stood up to hug the queen, too. Danny was surprised how happy Roy was to see Dela, they were friends but he didn’t know they were that close.

“No grandma, we have planes now. I left the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria safely in your boat house,” Ben quipped back as he went to hug Jinkx.

“Not bad, fruit fly. Not bad.” Roy sat down and Dela rounded the table back to Danny, who had made space for him.

“So, catch me up. How’s it going?” For half a second, Danny swore he saw Ben look meaningfully at Roy and then Jinkx. “Isn’t this just a great little reunion –” THUD. There was that muffled sound again, but this time it was Ben flinching.

“Sorry guys, I know it’s cramped and we keep hitting each other.” Danny apologized.

“It’s fine Danny, really. Everyone just needs to be a little more careful.” Jinkx smiled tightly. Now the pointed looks were coming from him, Danny was sure he saw it.

What’s going on? Why are they being weird?

Oh well, nothing a few Bloody Marias won’t fix.

—

An hour later the whole table was on the spectrum of tipsy to trashed, with the notable exception of the stone cold sober Roy. Danny’s sense of weirdness was replaced with the warm buzz of micheladas, tequila and good friends. There’s a reason the Lord blessed us with bottomless brunches on the Sabbath. Listening to the laughter and seeing the connection between friends new and old, Danny started to think maybe he could be chill.

Their food plates had barely hit the table when that image shattered, again. Poor Dela, he knows not what he does.

One of Danny’s new girlfriends, Sam, was telling him and Ben about her upcoming couple’s vacation. “So yeah, 5 days in Cabo to celebrate our anniversary, or month-iversary I guess. 5 days alone – I think I love that woman, but pray for me.” Sam took a drink.

“Damn, Sam. I didn’t realize you and Charlotte had been together for two months already. That’s rad.” Danny liked Sam a lot, and was glad to see her happy.

“Two months, that’s a big one.” Ben paused for a beat before winding around to face Roy and Jinkx, who were shouting across the table at Johnny and his new ‘friend.’

“That’s about the time you figure out if a relationship is going to work,” Ben continued. Another pause, and there was that damn pointed look at Roy again. Jesus, was he drunk already?

“Speaking of which – Roy, you’ve been with Sky for about 2 months now. How’s that going?”

Ben shouted the question loud enough to disrupt Roy’s conversation, which had the unfortunate effect of getting the whole table’s attention. The whole table who had been at the bar last night and witnessed Roy’s and Danny’s little display. Silence washed over them like goddamn Hurricane Katrina, leaving Dela very clearly confused if only for a second.

Danny immediately saw red. It wasn’t just the eye shadow creeping into his corneas, or the deep scarlet brunch cocktails – he was pissed. “Yeah Roy, how is Sky?” Danny asked, nearly shouting. He could feel the anger building.

You’re gonna wish you Never had met me

“Why didn’t you bring him with you? Didn’t think he would have fun?” The power of angry Adele was rising in his chest.

Tears are gonna fall Rollin’ in the deep

“I mean, what about this trip wouldn’t be fun for him? Jinkx has never met him. Dela hasn’t met him. In fact, neither have I. Wouldn’t he want to meet your sisters? Your best friend? Why wouldn’t he want to meet me, Roy?”

Johnny interjected. “I’m sure he was busy. Danny why don’t you switch over to water?” God bless him, like any good cousin was trying to stop the train of destruction. Danny was too far down this hill to pull back.

“Nah, I’m good man. Tell me, why didn’t he come here?” He focused all his attention, staring at Roy with enough intensity to clear his blurring vision while burning a hole in eyes of the man looking back at him.

Now it was Jinkx’s turn to try. “Danny, drop it. You’re yelling.”

“No I’m not. And you’re not my mom, Jinkx. I just want an answer to my question.” Danny never took his eyes off Roy, who’s body seemed to wilt while his eyes stayed locked.

“I didn’t mean to cause a problem guys, I –“ Dela looked totally panicked.

Fire. Heart. Fever. Scars. Breathless. Tears.

The combination of hurt, alcohol and electricity clashed like lightning, and Danny couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Is it because you came here to cheat on him, Roy? You told him you were coming to visit your friends, but really you just came here to fuck some other guys and hope he wouldn’t find out?”

If he wasn’t yelling before, Danny sure was now.

“You think that’s who I am, that I don’t care about other people’s feelings and that I’ll help you hurt them? You think I would be a part of that, that after all these years of pining for you I’d be so goddamn happy for your scraps of attention that I’d do it? That I’d let you jam your tongue down my throat in back alleys and fuck me in secret like your side piece?”

Well, so much for keeping that kiss a secret, Danny thought as he caught his breath. Might as well bring it home.

“You’re a shitty person, Roy. You’re a bad, mean, hateful person. You don’t care if you hurt people, do you? I never saw it before, but that you would do this to your boyfriend – to me…”

Shit, shit. Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry. Danny couldn’t understand why Roy, who had never been at a lack of words for a moment in his life, was just sitting there silently while he railed on. The indomitable Bianca del Rio just sat there staring, and increasingly – he thought, maybe – like he was actually biting his tongue.

“You don’t have anything to say? You can’t even defend yourself because you know it’s true. I don’t know if you’ve always been like this, if something changed, or what the fuck is going on.” Danny paused, starting to feel self conscious about the volume of his voice and the lack of chiming in from any of his friends.

“Jesus, Roy. I thought Bianca was an act but the real you is so much worse. I would say I hope Sky’s off fucking someone else too, so you know what it feels like, but you’d have to be a human with emotions to get it. You’re just a heartless evil cunt.” And with that, Danny was out of steam.

—

The next seconds crawled slowly and quietly enough to hear a pin drop. Danny knew this for a fact, because he literally heard the waitress drop her pen at molasses speed. Then the world slammed back into focus, with the same jarring effect as an astronaut getting ejected into space in a Star Trek movie.

Danny felt all eyes on him – 26 silent, unblinking eyes. The only person not still basking in his impassioned speech was Roy himself, who had finally broken the stare; his eyes were closed, maybe even squeezed together, while he rested his forehead on wringing hands. Danny had never seen this body language before, which was strange because Roy was a true creature of habit.

Feeling totally exposed – a feeling he wasn’t totally in love with at the moment – but still high on righteous indignation, Danny violently stood up to leave. He threw his credit card down on the table and walked towards the exit, speechless as a silent movie…until he heard a mumble.

“What did you say to me?” Danny turned on his heel, sure he heard Roy say something under his breath. He was ready to fight.

“I said he did, Delano. Sky did. He cheated on me. I walked in on him fucking someone. Two weeks ago.”

Danny didn’t go to school for fucking math, but something was clicking. Two weeks ago, cheating, no more Sky…damn the tequila fog.

“You guys have something in common after all – he said I was too cold to fall in love with. Didn’t think I would even care, I can’t feel anything anyway.” Roy wouldn’t look up as he spoke, his voice was calm and controlled. That was really freaking Danny out – this was his somber voice, the same one he used in the days after Danny’s dad died.

What’s going on? Danny was starting to wonder if he’d miscalculated something here. Fucking continuation school.

“You should be happy, turns out you already got what you want. I got cheated on, Danny.” Roy paused and finally looked up.

In one fell swoop, Danny realized he was so very wrong. The eyes Roy had been hiding were as red as his own, but colored instead by broken blood vessels and tears. Danny realized why he didn’t recognize the body language – he’d never seen Roy cry before.

“Happy, even if you’re wrong. I promise you I feel it.”

In that moment Roy’s voice wavered ever so slightly, and Danny felt his whole body come undone. He had to sit back in his chair to keep from falling over, seeing Roy like this turned him to actual human Jell-O.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fuck. Danny’s mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. How he could fix this.

“I think I should go,” Roy said to Jinkx, who started to move in response. His voice was back to the unnerving calm. “No, stay. I’ll get an Uber, you guys have fun. Let me know how much I owe you.” Roy stood up. “Everyone, it was a pleasure to meet you in the daylight. Glad to know my friends are so well taken care of in Seattle.”

No no no, don’t leave. What is happening? What are you doing? Danny was screaming internally, but he couldn’t figure out what words to say or at this point how to even make sounds come out of his mouth.

“Bye, Danny.”

Roy said those two words with such a tenderness and finality, Danny started to panic. He needed to do something but he was immobilized, his brain fried by his earlier surge of emotion and the overload of new information.

The scars of your love, they leave me breathless I can’t help feeling we could’ve had it all

And just like that Roy was gone.

#bianca del rio #adore delano #jinkx monsoon #bendelacreme #biadore #angst #tw cheating #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant #fucking awful #new man

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