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theywhowriteandknowthings · 5 months

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Framing Escobar Chapter 8 La Gatita

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog festuring porn with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: Threat to Reader; vomit/vomiting; food and alcohol consumption; Unsolicited Photos; Survaillance of Reader, Canon-Typical Violence; Canon Divergence; Javier Peña Has a Big Dick (Narcos); Grumpy Javier Peña (Narcos); Sweet Javier Peña (Narcos); Protective Steve Murphy (Narcos); Sex; Rough Sex; Choking; Unprotected Sex; unprotected piv; Penis In Vagina Sex; Power Dynamics; Javier Peña Smut (Narcos); Fluff. Let me know if I missed any!

[AO3]

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“The kitten.” You say to yourself as your stomach drops like a lead balloon. Your fingers tremble violently as you tear open the envelope. You feel your knees go weak as the thundering roar of your heartbeat fills your ears.

The stack of photographs in your hand make you feel sick. Bile rises in your throat as you leaf through them all. One for every day you had been out on the street in Bogota and Medellín over the last two months.

But they pale in comparison to what you see next. You look over the last four and you can’t hold back the bile rising to your throat as you run to the sink. The watery vomit burns your throat and tongue as you empty your stomach contents.

You stand trembling over the edge of the sink for a moment, glad you had chosen to wear your hair up. You straighten back up and lay the photos on the counter. Four separate shots of you at the bar. Every single round you had bought that night recorded in the photos.

It was targeted.

You try not to panic. But you aren’t naive, there’s a very real – potentially lethal – target on your back. You jump again as you hear a rhythmic knocking at the door and your blood runs cold.

It’s just Javi, just Javi.

You repeat over and over in your head as you quickly fill a glass of water and gargle before spitting into the sink. You rinse the glass and the sink as best as you can before re-applying your lipstick. At the last moment you grab your purse and sling it over your shoulder, one hand in the bag already wrapped around your gun.

You could feel your hands trembling against the pistol but you take a deep breath and look through the peep hole. Relief rushes through you and you wrench the door open maybe a little too eagerly.

“Evening-,” Javi’s voice catches in his throat as he takes you in. You are similarly stunned as you slowly drink him in. He’s in a tight black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His buttons are fastened almost as low as your neckline, showing off the smooth tan skin beneath. A thin gold chain glitters against his chest. His beige slacks hug his hips and brush against the maroon dress shoes at his ankle. His sunglasses are nowhere to be seen, he’s clean shaven, moustache trimmed neatly, and his hair is slicked back with pomade.

“You look amazing.” You breathe and Javi snaps back to reality as his dark eyes meet yours. His tongue drags across his bottom lip slowly as he seemingly battles with a thought behind those glassy eyes.

“I have no words for how beautiful you are tonight.” He says breathily as he begins to extend his hand out to your cheek. He pauses, realising he might be overstepping but you step forward and press your cheek gently into his large palm. He trembles at the contact as you place a soft, chase kiss to the base of his thumb.

“I’d ask you in,” you purr, the photographs forgotten for now. Javier Peña is all you could think about, all you want to think about right now, “But I need to know what this surprise is.” you finish as you take his wrist gently in your hand.

You pull his hand from your cheek, and you see the disappointment on Javi’s face. You smirk before pulling his thumb to your lips. You lock eyes with him as you press it between your lips, torturously slow. You groan at the sharp hiss that escapes his mouth.

“Cariño...” he growls, but it’s clearly all he can manage as he watches you – transfixed – as you take his thumb up to the first knuckle and suck gently before slowly pulling it back out. A ring of lipstick is left just below the joint and Javi exhales through his flared nostrils as you watch his eyes swim with desire.

“Come on, Peña, if this goes well, I’ll leave lipstick somewhere else.” You drop his hand and turn to walk towards the stairs. You make it two steps before your spun around, Javi pulls you tight against his chest and the look he gives you sends the heat of arousal straight to your already aching core.

“You’re going to pay for that cariño, and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.” He growls as his fingertips brush against your jaw.

“I’m counting on it.” you say with a hum as his hand finds your throat. He holds you tightly, but not painfully, as he turns your head to the side. His nose finds your ear, pressing against the sensitive skin, and he breathes slowly over your neck before placing a soft, lingering kiss on your trembling flesh.

“Going to put that bratty little mouth to good use.” he hums against your skin before abruptly letting you go. You almost collapse at the sudden lack of sensation and glare up at him. But you suppose you deserve any teasing you get.

“Come on, Peña, what’s so important about this surprise?” you ask with an indignant huff punctuation your question.

“Oh, you’ll see.” Javi hurriedly pulls you by the hand down the stairs and as soon as you’re in the truck you notice a look on his face you can’t quite discern. You cock your head at him and narrow your eyes.

“You trust me?” he asks and you want to say no, to fuck with him, but something about the look in his eyes makes you reconsider.

“Yes, Javi, completely,” you answer and his face lights up. as he leans over to the glove box, his forearm brushes against your knee and you gasp, unable to hold it in as the electric current ghosts over your skin.

“Put this on,” he orders as he hands you a red silk scarf.

“You mean around my neck? Or?” you tease, already knowing what he means but you couldn’t help it. You love watching him roll his eyes at you when you’re bratty. Almost on cue his dark eyes roll as he shake his head.

“Turn.” He says and you obey this time, your body trembling in excitement as the smooth fabric covers your eyes. His hands make quick work of the double knot, and you’re fully blindfolded as you feel his calloused hands brush against your skin. Small, lingering touches move down your spine before he pulls away, the rumble of the truck snapping you back to reality.

***

The truck stops and you’re practically vibrating with anticipation as you try and figure out where you are. The warm night air hits you as Javi gets out on his side, in a matter of seconds your door opens. You smell the hints of tobacco, and his cologne as he gently touches your hand. You swivel in your seat and press your hand into his. Slowly he helps you out of the vehicle and is guiding you up a flight of stairs. You can hear music as you ascend the steps, the smell of street food on the air. You’re still trying to figure it out as he brings you to a stop.

“Javi come on when can I take off-?” the silk falls away from your eyes and you gasp at the sight before you. You were at the edge of a plaza filled with lights, stalls, and most importantly artists painting, sculpting, singing, dancing all around you. You turn to Javi with tears in your eyes and he looks down at you with a triumphant smile.

“Javi what is this?” you ask, your lips parted in awe as you fight the urge to kiss him.

“It’s a monthly festival of art, I thought you might like it.”

“Like doesn’t cut it Javi, this is amazing,” your voice is barely more than a whisper as you hold back the tears of joy. A single tear betrays you and before you can wipe it away Javi’s soft lips catch it on your cheek. You lean against him and breathe him in, the gesture melting all remnants of ill will from your mind.

“Come on, let’s get some food, and a drink,” he says softly against your skin before nudging you in the direction of the food stalls. You don’t argue, the butterflies in your stomach not enough to disguise the ravenous hunger that has suddenly crept up on you. Javi offers you his arm and you take it, relishing the contact.

“No argument here.” You say as you squeeze against him.

You spend the next few hours talking to local artists, vendors, and musicians, with Javi’s help where your Spanish failed you. You eat too much food and drink maybe a little too much beer. But you didn’t care, you’re in your element.

You’ve already bought a few small knickknacks to put on some of your the bare surfaces in your apartment. But it isn’t until you see the last vendor’s work do you truly fall in love with something so much you have to have it.

The stall is filled with oil on canvas art of the jungles and rainforests of Colombia, bright splashes of jewel tones intermingled with the dense greens and rich browns of the jungle. One stands out to you more than the others. An intricate painting of a hummingbird drinking from a bright pink flower. Somehow the artist has managed to capture the iridescent blues, greens and purples as well as the speckled reds and oranges on the underbelly and tail feathers.

“That’s a colourful puffleg,” you say softly to Javi as you stand transfixed.

“That’s a stupid name,” he scoffs and you jab him softly in the side.

“I didn’t name it, cabrón,” you grumble as you hail the artist as he finishes up with another customer. You enquire about the painting in Spanish, not needing Javi’s help this time and all the while you can feel his gaze on you as he caresses the column on your spine with two fingers. The artist wraps up the piece and you hand over the money.

“¡Buenas noches!” you call to the vendor as he is already pulled away by another interested party.

“You happy there, cariño?” Javi whispers in your ear and you lean back into him, you nod as you feel his arms wrap around you, careful not to jostle the wrapped canvas in your hands.

“More than happy, Javi,” you say with your eyes closed, savouring the moment as you feel Javi’s chest rise and fall against your back.

“Wanna head back to mine?” He breathes as his hands fall to your hips and his lips brush the top of your head.

“No, let’s go back to mine, I’ve got a brand-new Laphroaig twelve I’d like to share with you.”

“Deal, come on, I’m desperate for a taste,” he whispers against your scalp and you don’t know if he means the whiskey or you, but you didn’t care.

***

Your back hits the door with a hollow thud, you haven’t even made it inside your apartment. You hold the painting out to the side to protect it from Javi’s forceful embrace. His lips are moulded against yours as he licks hungrily into your mouth. His hands are fisted in the fabric of your dress, slowly pushing it up your thighs as his knee presses between your thighs.

“Been thinking about that moment in the stairwell for weeks baby. Feels so good to be able to kiss you again,” Javi breathes as he breaks the kiss, panting heavily.

“Same, Javi, fuck. I just had to be sure,” you groan as you hold him back, your eyes locking with his as you place your hands either side of his face.

“I know, baby, but I’m in this one hundred percent, no-one else, only you.” He breathes as his eyes flutter shut, his lips ghost along your left hand as he nips at the heel of your palm.

“So, do you want that drink, or are we just going to cut the shit?” you ask as you twitch under the sharp, blissful nibbles on your skin.

“Fuck the whiskey, all I want is you,” he growls, and you smile as you turn to open the door. You set the painting down for a second but the moment your hands are free Javi crowds you from behind.

His painfully obvious erection presses tight against your ass as you struggle to concentrate on the task at hand. His one hand is steadied on the doorframe, the other is on the inside of your thigh, riding up against the tight fabric of your dress as your vision blurs pleasantly. The painting is forgotten outside your apartment as you lose yourself to your desire.

You finally manage to unlock the door and you’re falling forward before Javi catches you with ease, He twirls you around as he pulls you against him. Your hands fly to his shirt and you hastily free him from the oppressively tight shirt scraping your nails down the exposed flesh of his chest. The guttural groan that bubbles from his throat has you like putty in his hands.

“Javi, take me to bed,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“As you wish,” he grunts as he picks you up, his hands firm on the meat of your ass as he presses you against him. His lips are on yours once more, the kiss hungry, aggressive. He stalks through the apartment and as soon as you’re across the threshold of the bedroom he throws you onto the bed. He stands at the edge of the bed and drinks in the sight of you, dishevelled hair, swollen lips, glassy eyes full of desire.

“Javi, c’mere,” you mumble as you squirm under his gaze. He unbuckles his slacks and lets them drop to his ankles. He kicks them off along with his shoes and stands there, thumbs in the waistband of his tight white briefs as he looks down at you hungrily.

“Javi please,” You beg. You reach behind you to fumble with the zipper on your dress as Javi drops onto the bed, his knees either side of your hips as he snatches at your wrists, pushing them above your head before transferring them both to his left. His large hands have no trouble keeping you in place as you tug against his grip playfully.

“So needy, cariño, you miss me this much?” he purrs as he holds your jaw in place, forcing you to look into his hungry eyes. He hovers over you, his strong nose nudging along yours before dipping lower.

“So much, Javi, missed you so much,” you groan as his nose ghosts your jaw.

“Been playing hard to get for weeks hermosa, thought you didn’t want me anymore,” he presses a lingering kiss just behind your ear and the sensation makes you writhe under him.

“Always wanted you, Javi. Always.”

“You’re going to do what I say, ok?” he asks as he trails kisses down your neck.

“Anything Javi, anything,” you plead, your cunt aches as your arousal builds, you don’t know how much more you can take before you explode. He lets your wrists go and you go to touch him but instantly you’re pinned again. You huff as his hands pin your wrists against the sheets, his eyes blown out, his eyebrow cocked as if to scold you.

“I need you to stay still, you trust me?” he asks once more, and you nod dutifully.

“Say it,” he growls as his grip tightens on your wrists.

“I trust you, Javi,” you say as you force your body to still.

“Good girl, let me take care of you,” he says, his voice low. He slowly peels off your dress, your bra and panties in practiced, precise motions. You’re bare under his gaze as he palms his throbbing cock through his briefs to relieve a little tension.

He kneels at the edge of the bed, and you gasp as he pulls you down the bed by your ankles to meet him. He wastes no time, prising apart your thighs as he buries his face between your slick folds. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit as he flicks the blunt tip against your clit. You shudder under him as you force your hands to stay where they are.

“God, I missed how good you taste, the way you twitch for me,” he moans into your cunt as he presses two fingers inside you with ease. Your hips buck upwards to meet them as he buries himself in you to the knuckle.

“So eager, baby, feel so good squeezing around my fingers,” he hums against your clit as he works you up into a blinding peak. Your chest heaves and your breath comes in ragged gasps as he pushes you over the edge. The blinding euphoria has you convulsing and clamping down on Javi’s thick fingers.

“Fuck I wanted to make you cum again, but I can’t wait, baby,” he says raggedly as he pulls his fingers out, savouring your slick on them as he sucks them clean.

“Javi, please, fuck me,” you beg as you pull his pruned fingers into your mouth. You savour the faint taste of your slick on his fingers as he eases them gently in and out of your mouth.

“Such a dirty little mouth,” He breathes as he frees his erection from his boxers, shucking them off to the side. He lines up against your core and your head drops back, the anticipation is killing you.

“Look at me, baby,” He growls and you comply, looking up into his pussy-drunk eyes as he eases into you. The pressure rocks through you as he eases in, sinking deep into you as you arch your hips up to meet him. Your hand falls to your clit and his eyes sparkle with arousal. You work at yourself as he fucks down into you hard. His balls slapping lightly against your ass as he fills you up.

“So hot when you touch yourself like this,” he growls as a hand falls to your breast, coarse fingertips rolling your hardened peak between them. You groan up into it as you circle your clit vigorously. His other hand falls to your throat and he holds it there, not pressuring but looking down at you as he holds it there.

“This ok?” he asks and you nod firmly, he smirks but doesn’t accept that as an answer, but before he can ask again you’re there, willing and eager.

“Javi, choke me, please,” you mewl, fluttering your eyelashes at him as his grip tightens.

“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth as the pressure builds on your windpipe, “Tap out if I get too rough baby, don’t want to hurt you,” he says as his grip tightens again.

The slight deprivation of oxygen thrills you, not unlike the blindfold over your eyes in the truck. It heightens your senses, and you feel yourself building higher to your orgasm as Javi fucks down into you. Your finger presses and rubs at your clit with just the right intensity as the pressure on your throat anchors you.

Javi pistons into you with desperation and your hips buck up to meet him with every thrust. You feel your orgasm building as Javi’s thrusts falter above you. You moan as he snaps his hips down into you, his hips slamming into you with such force as you feel pleasure streak through you. You cry out as you clamp down hard on his cock, coming with his name falling from you lips with every wave of pleasure.

Javi comes with a whine as you milk him dry. He empties inside you with two frantic, snapping thrusts before falling forwards. His head rests against your sternum as he pants through his own aftershocks.

“Fuck that was beautiful,” he breathes as your hands slowly press into the sweat-soaked locks at the nape of his neck. You pull him in for a tender, sloppy kiss and sigh as your lips part. Both of you are gasping for air, reeling.

“That was amazing, Javi. Fuck I’ve missed you,” you say as you hug your thighs against his abdomen, placing soft, erratic kisses to his forehead.

“Missed you too,” Your name falls from his lips, and you float on the full-bodied euphoria it brings you.

“Come on I need to clean up, and we need some water,” you laugh as you try to stop yourself from falling asleep with Javi still buried inside you.

Javi relents and lets you get up, heading to the kitchen to get both of you a drink. You head to the bathroom and clean yourself up. You slip on an oversized loose t-shirt before heading back into the bedroom. You had forgotten about the photos on the kitchen counter, but your stomach drops as you hear Javi swear from the other room. Your blood runs cold as you pad out into the open plan kitchen.

“What the fuck are these?”

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hopelesswrites · 9 months

Note

‼️OBSCURE JOE PLOT ALERT ‼️

i see a lot of similar things being written under the joe tag, and i don’t always like how much miscommunication there is between the reader and joe because of reader’s insecurities. imagine joe dating a woman who is very secure in herself and the relationship. you have a career and while it isn’t as decadent as joe’s, you’re happy with it. however, joe sometimes worries that his lifestyle is too different from you because of how normal yours is. you’re not constantly flying to conventions and promoting new shows and worrying about being seen out in public. he’s nervous that you feel he isn’t committed enough to you or that he’s unreliable. while you take a direct communication approach, he pretends like everything is fine until the night he gets a call when he’s about to take you out. he had planned the reservation months in advance, but his agent called to see if he could do a last minute zoom interview that evening. he didn’t feel like he could turn it down, and when he turns around to tell you, he thinks that you just look so stunning that he starts to cry. you’re confused, and he’s just apologizing over and over. you comfort him, and after listening to him explain his worries, you pull him in and kiss his neck as you whisper exactly how wrong he is. after fifteen minutes of you embracing him and helping him clean up, he does his interview. your night out becomes a night in, and you give him the best head of his life. his thighs and tummy end up covered in marks before he pulls you off of him and you let him regain control, with him flipping you over into an incredibly intimate take on missionary. he wants to go slow, to really savor it, but god he just loves you so much that as you moan out his name and praises, he loses his ability to speak and just goes harder and deeper into you. sorry if this ask makes no sense i am running on not a lot of sleep sbshsvagabbssbbsb

Thank you for sending this in!! I really loved the idea and agree, we need more emotional Joe x secure reader. Hope it's alright, i went in guns blazing at first but lost my mojo at the smut (im not in a smutty mood atm apparently)

You were just putting the finishing touches on your makeup when Joes phone rang, and he dismissed himself to the living room to take the call.

Joe had been sitting on the bed not so subtly checking you out from behind (The mirror exposing him) while he waited for you to finish getting ready for your date. It was something that came rare in your relationship with Joe since his schedule filled up last year, so you were extra excited to just go out and have a good meal with your boyfriend.

You were applying the deep red lipstick you knew drove Joe crazy when you heard his voice raise from the other room. You had noticed how more flustered and irritated Joe was getting recently due to his work, but you were so proud of him for all his achievements.

Heavy footsteps made their way back to you and you turned around offering Joe a warm smile.

“Everything alright?”

His face could tell you everything was in fact not alright. The stern look in his eyes and the way his brows were furrowed, the emotion Joe struggled to hide from his face, failing to let him lie to you every single time.

The second Joe laid eyes on you the anger in his face vanished and the tension in his eyes softened as tears welled up.

‘I’m so sorry” was all Joe got out before the tears fell and you were rushing over to your boyfriend, taking his face into your hands and pulling him into your chest, the angle awkward but Joe embraced you around your waist and cried, spilling out all his pent-up emotions.

You stroked his hair, pushing it back and behind his ears to free his face, since he had been growing it for a role and it had become a bit unruly.

Once the sobs subsided and he lifted his head up to speak, Joe stared down at you with the saddest eyes “I just wanted one night, one single night so I could prove I was all in, that I’m not distracted and I’m serious about us”.

This took you by surprise because you had no doubt in your mind Joe was serious, he hadn’t given you any indication to. Your relationship with Joe was perfect, he had his thing going, you had your thing going, you came together had a great thing going and you loved each other so much, what more could you want?

“Baby, where is this coming from? I know you’re serious about us, do you have a work thing?”

Joe looked away from you for a moment as more tears well up in his eyes.

“I feel like I’m too busy, I can’t be as present as you need, I can’t even take you out to dinner”. Joe looked down at your face, “And you’re dressed up so nice, I’m such a dick, you’re even wearing that god damn lipstick, you’re so fucking perfect I’m so sorry”.

“No, no, Joe, you’re amazing, everything’s perfect, please don’t stress yourself out” You comforted your boyfriend, wiping the stray tears off his cheeks as they fell. “Go do your work, I’m okay, we can order in and watch a movie when you’re done, okay?”

Joe nodded like a kid sniffling away after a tantrum, “I won’t be long, I love you”. He punctuated his confession with a big wet kiss to your forehead before sulking all the way to the study where he did most of his online interviews.

You migrated to the couch and put on a rerun of your current binge while Joe worked, before long he was creeping back out of the study.

“Done already?” You beamed, watching his own face light up. “Come sit and we can properly talk about how you’re feeling”.

“I was just frustrated don’t worry about me” Joe dismissed, plonking down on the sofa next to you, knees touching.

“My Love, I’m always worrying about you, I care so much I can’t help it”.

Joes’ eyes drifted over to you, softening once they landed on your face, full of love.

“I just feel sometimes life gets in the way and you’re going to leave me”.

You raked your fingers through Joes hair, brushing out some tangles while he savoured in your touch.

“I just don’t want to fail you”. He confessed to this much softer, more insecure about this particular part.

It broke your heart he thought that way, and you were upset at yourself for not seeing this sooner, Joe had been struggling with his insecurities for so long and you thought everything had been perfect.

“Hey, you haven’t failed me, I don’t think you even could, and I’m not going anywhere”.

“I love you” Joe whispered, smiling softly.

“I love you too” you whispered back. “Now lay back, let me show you how much I love you”.

“You don’t have to”.

You dismissed Joe, “You’re tense, I do”.

You got up off the couch and slid down between Joes legs, rubbing up his thighs lovingly as he adjusted to be more comfortable.

Without hesitation you began unbuttoning Joes shirt from the bottom while he worked from the top, meeting in the middle. Underneath was the holy grail, you loved Joes body, specifically, marking joes body.

Starting just below his belly button you began to pepper gentle kisses along his skin, dotting that red lipstick in your path. Joe groaned at the realisation of your intentions, knowing he’s going to hate washing off your work later. As you went further down your lips got firmer, stamping more prominent kiss marks over and around his happy trail.

Once the unmarked skin ran out you worked on removing Joes pants, him helping more hastily, pulling his boxers down with them.

You continued your descent, leaving little red reminders with every touch, making sure to stay as soft as possible, leaving Joe a heaving groaning mess.

“Darling please” he whined as your mouth alternated from hip to hip only a wisp of breath where Joe really wanted you, needed you.

You couldn’t bare to watch him suffer for too long before placing a series of kisses up the base of his cock, watching his muscles tense up as he refrained from taking charge, letting you have your way with him, as agonising as it was. The remainder of your lipstick smudged over his skin before you wrapped your lips loosely around the tip and sucked, eliciting the most pornographic moan from your boyfriend.

“Fuck, baby you have no idea what a sight this is”. Joe groaned, while gently tucking a fallen piece of hair behind your ear that was obstructing his view.

Your head bobbed in a rhythm that had Joes stomach muscles tensing in overdrive, you knew he wouldn’t last too long. Before you could send him over the edge Joe was gently pulling you up, a firm hand on the back of your neck, and guiding you back on the couch where he started undressing you, just as hastily as he was with his own clothes.

“Eager, are we?” You joked as Joe fiddled with the zipper on your skirt.

“That lipstick move was cruel, I need you now” Joe grumbled, finally getting the zipper to cooperate and pulling down your skirt as you worked on your top, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Joe groaned as he soaked in the sight of you, far too worked up at this point.

“Fuck I love you so much” he got out before devouring you in a heated, passionate kiss, all tongues and teeth.

Clumsily you wrapped your arms around Joes shoulders, pulling him impossibly close, needing to feel all of him. His lips trailed down your jaw and sucked along your neck in an animalistic fashion, marking you his own way.

Impatiently you reached down to stroke your boyfriend, silently telling him to hurry. Needing no more indication he was moving your underwear enough to slip himself inside and began a slow agonising pace.

“Joe, please” you whined, missing the fervour he had earlier.

His hips moved in a mellow rhythm, grinding once they met yours, causing heat to rise in your belly quicker than it normally would. This was slow, but fuck was it good.

“Need it slow tonight” Joe whispered, goosebumps rising over your neck when one particular thrust hit a spot that had you seeing stars.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he picked up more force, “Yeah baby? There?” He teased, running his fingers through your hair and tugging at the crown, sending electricity through your body.

Joe’s movements got harder, little grunts escaping his lips as he chased his own orgasm, the animalistic atmosphere slowly returning. You lost all ability to breathe as Joes pace quickened and his cock hit that spot that had your eyes rolling back.

“There you are, my love, let go” Joe encouraged, movements getting harder and faster as he reached his own high.

It felt like an explosion as your orgasm hit and Joes followed after, his moan so loud it echoed through the still house.

You relaxed back into the couch as you caught your breath, feeling the weight of your boyfriend drop ontop of you, comfortingly, much like a sweaty weighted blanket that you loved so much.

“Don’t doubt my love for you again” You sighed once you had both calmed down enough.

“Or what? I get this again?” Joe joked.

“This was an exception”.

#joseph quinn #smut #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn #fanfiction

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strangelittlestories · 4 months

Text

A casino. Flashing neon and jingling cred-coins. Desperation with the edges shined up bright enough to blind. Bright enough to cut.

A target. International man of something or other. Eye-patch. Tux. Bodyguard - loyal, silent and beautiful. Cleaning up at the poker table. The whole night yards.

There are two players soon to enter, though neither are yet aware of the other. They will be.

They are both chameleons in their way. They have a lot in common. If they met outside of a job, they'd probably kill each other.

At the entrance, our first player makes his move. His eyes are wide and sparkling. His lips are soft, but his suit is sharp. He's lost his invite, he says. How silly of him, he says. It's just been such *a lot* ever since the funeral... He is vulnerable and stunning. Even if his mark didn't believe him, she'd have let him in anyway. But she does believe him. They always do. She escorts him in on her arm.

---

On the roof, our second player enters. She too has a plan ... She shoots a security guard with a tranq gun.

---

Minutes later…

---

The first player is eating caviar and drinking too much champagne. He'll make himself ill if he isn't careful. His host is happy to treat him.

---

The guard on the roof has already been missed. His partner has lost visual. He hasn't checked in.

Wait, there he is. Facial recognition confirms it. His voice over the comm is cocky as ever. His partner despairs about him sometimes.

---

Our first player has definitely had too much champagne now. He makes his woozy excuses, his breath a mess of rich decay.

He keeps staggering even once out of sight. “Sorry, I'm super drunk” is always a good excuse for being somewhere you're not supposed to.

The target's room is guarded. Regular sweeps. They look like hotel guests or staff. Their eyes give them away. Too alert. That and the bulge of their sidearms.

He collapses into their arms. His bleary eyes lock onto the security woman's own deep blues.

“You're so *strong*.” He says, a livewire of intensity in her arms.

She barely hesitates to reach for her gun.

Barely is enough.

He stashes her in a linen cupboard, taking care to put a towel beneath her head.

The target's room contains fifty thousand euros (fingerprint locked), three passport chips and a suspicious tube of lipstick. No data-stick. Must be on the target. Of course it would.

He catches a glimpse of casino security in the mirror and his search is cut short. He exits through a window.

---

Our second player has much more time to search the room.

She worked the rest of the guard's shift (she'd hung him from the roof by his ankle - he would have a story when he woke up).

Now she had free run of the hotel.

She gave a little space to enjoy the room and start to get a sense of the target's habits.

A person was little more than their routines and their DNA. And she could learn both.

She pocketed the euros - fingerprints were no object.

She threw the passports down the drain. No escape.

She smiled when she found the lipstick and applied a coat.

She felt for the target’s patterns. She smiled. Turned on the hot water. The steam washed over her like a second skin. She turned it off. She read the message on the mirror. She smiled again.

She stripped off the security gear and scrubbed off the contours that held the guard's face over her own.

She throws on a pink wig. Fastened into place, it cascades down her body and she's left in a stunning, shimmering gown.

She looks in the mirror again.

She feels most like herself when she looks like a stranger.

#writing #flash fiction #microfiction #short story #spies #spy story #heist

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melissa-kenobi · 1 year

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Trouble in Valentine

[Arthur Morgan x Reader]

Hola, I know it's been a while since I've posted any writing but here we are! A little but late but I've been so busy with work and little gremlins. Here we are a little something for Valentines although it was like 2 weeks ago, SORRY!! Special thanks to @pinkiemme for creating an amazing drawing of us in the RDR universe!!

Word Count:

***

"Is this your idea of a day out Mister Morgan?" You yelled over the chaos of guns being reloaded, bullets being shot at you, and the sound of your horses letting out a loud whine. When he'd invited you to join him for a drink in Valentine, you already knew there was going to be some sort of trouble.

To be completely honest, you knew it was never going to be a normal day with Arthur. But to be fair, this time it was sorta your fault.

"Well, if you'd have let me know you were gonna start a brawl with the woman, then I'd have planned somethin' darlin'!" Arthur retorted, making a run as he slid next to you handing you some ammo to reload.

"Yeah well, 'm sure her husband didn't appreciate his wife tryin' ta bed another man!" You hissed back, annoyed that she had actually tried it on with Arthur in front of you. She had the whole thing going on, busty up top, the small slip-up making her breasts press up against Arthur. The way she toyed with her hair as she spoke with Arthur, and the lipstick. The print she'd left on his cheek was what had ticked you off. Not that you and Arthur were official per se, but he meant more to you than your family and that's sayin' a lot. "Was just tryna help. Gotta be loyal to those you're with."

"Didn't take you for the jealous type sweetheart!" Arthur grinned, as he watched you angrily reload your gun before shooting three men straight in the head, making Arthur's heart swell with adoration. You'd taken his lessons to heart and they'd been put to good use- well if you'd call starting a fight in Valentine good use. "Thought you'd enjoy all that shit."

"Am not. Just didn't like the way she was all up on you." You sniffed back at him, not making eye contact as you quickly scanned the room, looking for the nearest exit. Mumbling under your breath you said a few words Arthur couldn't hear but only managed to catch a few of them, making his eyes widen. "Don't like people touching what's mine is all..."

Arthur tried not to dwell on your words as the two of you needed to get out of the saloon and back to camp. Although with the way you were shooting, he was certain you'd be outta here in no time. The angry look on your face had Arthur making a mental note to not get on your bad side. He watched in awe as your hands quickly reloaded the bullets before slinging them up at the men, not even giving them a chance to reload themselves before you shot them clean in the head.

Too busy watching you, Arthur didn't notice the man creeping up behind him with a knife in his hand until the perpetrator let out a loud screech and had him in a tight grip.

"Arthur!" You screamed out, eyes focused on him as he struggled to remove himself. Now Arthur wasn't a small man by any means, compared to you, you looked like a dwarf standing next to him. But the man holding Arthur back was bigger than two Arthurs' put together. "Let him go. Or I swear you'll have this bullet in your head faster than you can say 'no'."

"What you gonna do missy?" The man teased, shoving his knife into Arthur's side. "Do ya even know how to shoot that? Need a man to help ya out?"

Growling, you gripped your weapon tighter, eyes locked onto Arthur. Arthur trusted you with his life. So when you gave him a small nod to stop struggling he did, without hesitation.

"N-

The moment you saw him give you that nod, he had handed his whole life to you on a platter, now what you did with it, was up to you.

Without a moment's hesitation, the larger man was stunned that Arthur had gone slack and that was your opening- shooting the gun straight at his head, taking him back by force as he screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground, cursing you out. Arthur quickly ran to your side, and stood behind you with a hand on your waist, balancing himself as he clutched his bleeding side.

"Is he-

"I think so." You slowly walked over to the guy, Arthur following you behind slowly, taking gentle steps. It was a funny sight to some, Arthur the big man stood behind the small woman- weapon ready in her hands. The man's hand holding the knife twitched in the corner of your eye but before he could throw the knife at Arthur, you shot him in the chest once more, ensuring his death.

"We gotta get outta here 'fore the law come down on us." Arthur mumbled as he tugged on your arm, heading out the back of the saloon and back to camp.

That's twice you'd saved Arthur's life.

***

Arthur sat in his tent, mind reeling at what had just happened.

He only wanted to take you out for a nice day, treat you to something sweet, and maybe pay for a room for the two of you. But he hadn't expected any of that to happen, not at all. After the two of you had left the saloon, you'd taken charge and ridden his horse back to camp. Arthur was forced to sit behind, holding onto you for support as you rode his mare. He knew she was more than happy to be ridden by you because she trusted you, just as she trusted Arthur.

Arthur recalled closing his eyes for a few seconds, taking in the peaceful chirps of the birds that flew around. His head drooped down, leaning on your back as he let sleep overtake him.

The next thing he knew, he woke up on his bed.

***

Not a single word was said as you rode back to camp. Arthur's hands held tightly onto your waist, as he tried to keep himself awake, but succumbed to sleep eventually. You felt his head lay on your back as he dozed off. Sighing gently, you adjusted yourself so he was more comfortable and slowed down the pace of the horse so it wouldn't wake him. Lord knows he barely got any sleep, so you let him sleep on you. Despite being annoyed with him, you still cared about him more than you'd care to admit.

After you'd reached the entrance of Horseshoe Overlook, you heard John calling out from guard duty. You called out letting him know it was just you and Arthur.

"Jesus Y/N. What'd you do to him?" John exclaimed as he helped you get Arthur back to his tent. "I thought he was taking you out for Valentines day?"

You blinked a few times, trying to process John's words. Arthur asked you to come out with him for a drink, to cool down after everything that had been going on- not to be his date for Valentines'. You didn't dwell too much on it, knowing Arthur was still hung up on Mary and most probably wasn't sweet on you. "Yeah well, we- I got into a fight. Arthur was injured tryin' to help me."

John watched you with curiosity, his eyes twinkling with something you couldn't pinpoint. "If you say so. Didn't think anyone would have knocked the old man out."

"Well, he's not as invincible as you all seem to think so. He gets injured too, he has to rest- Arthur ain't as-

"Woah, hold on missy, I didn't mean nothin' by it!" John quickly backtracked, eyes widened as he tried to apologise.

"Don't call me that." You hissed at him, making John's face curve into one of worry. Just what had happened that made you so defensive John wondered. "Sorry John, I don't mean t'be rude. 'm just tired."

"S'alright love. I know, you ain't-

"Y/N?" Arthur mumbled out, hands reaching for you around his. You quickly held his hands, making sure he was comfy before you slipped a hand on his forehead making sure he didn't have a temperature. Sighing in relief as he quickly dropped back to sleep and he wasn't warm, you bent down, swiping his blonde locks away and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before realising what you had just done. John quickly turned his head away, acting as if he hadn't seen anything.

"Not a word, else you'll find chopped up parts of your dick in your soup." You threatened John, a finger held up to his face.

"Yes ma'am." John replied submissively, avoiding eye contact with you. The two of you continued into camp until you heard Miss Grimshaws screeching over you bringing blood into her camp.

"Miss Grimshaw, Arthur needs your expertise. He was stabbed, I tied up the wound and tried my best. He ain't got a fever, he's just asleep." You quickly explained as Charles quickly took over from you and help Arthur onto the bed. Miss Grimshaw nodded in understanding before she gently took over and shooed everyone away.

"Thank you Miss L/N. He'll be alright. He's survived worse." Dutch added as he walked into the tent, seeing his son laid out on the bed. His son? More like a lap dog, never treating Arthur correctly but you couldn't do anything now, not while Arthur was still injured. Giving Dutch a small but forced smile you headed back to your tent, wanting to change out of your bloody clothes.

***

Hours later Arthur wakes to find himself in his bed, a letter by his side and your favourite flower in a small pot. He knew you loved flowers, any type you came across you'd blubber on about it and he loved to hear you go on about something you loved. Arthur had only recently found out you'd dragged little Jack into your slight obsession. The little boy didn't seem to mind, he enjoyed the attention and was frankly quite fascinated by it all.

Arthur ran his finger over the petals, watching as they responded to his touch. He thought you'd be here by his side as he woke up but you weren't. Arthur tried his best to not be upset that you weren't, perhaps Dutch had needed you for something. Now that Arthur had been off for a short while, he knew you were Dutch's best option.

So when he heard your voice cursing Dutch out he was shocked. "Damn you Dutch Van Der Linde! He needs to rest, not be sent out for another goddamn suicide mission!"

"And whose fault was it he got injured in the first place Miss L/N?" Dutch replied, eyes noticing Arthur sitting up in his cot. "My son! You're awake! I've got good news to share."

Arthur watched as your eyes widened at the sight of him. You gave him a forced smile before turning to Dutch and snatching the paper put his hands.

"Give it to me. I'll get the money." Arthur watched as you stormed away quietly mumbling some words to Marston, not even giving him a goodbye.

~~~

Arthur was bored to say the most, he never knew how boring his life was without you. He never really took the time to stop and think about how much the two of you actually did together. Now that you were separated, Arthur was at a loss of what he should do. The camp had several things that he could help with but, they wouldn't be the same if you weren't there. The tasks would feel menial, there'd be no one to crack jokes with, no-one to tease the way he did with you.

Arthur was beginning to realise how his every minute was spent with you and that he didn't know what to do if you weren't with him. He'd never actually been without you for a long time, he couldn't remember the last time he been in camp alone. It was probably back when he was still with Mary- you'd been avoiding him around that time and he was too infatuated with Mary to even notice.

Speaking of Mary, Miss Grimshaw had let Arthur know there was a letter for him. She'd been very clear and well mostly angry about it so there were no doubts about who it was from. Arthur took one look at his name written cursively at the top and instantly knew who it was from.

"Mary."

Arthur never had the chance to read the letter as his head instantly shot up at the sound of your name being called by Hosea. His eyes scanned the camp, looking around, trying to figure out if you'd made it back already. But knowing that you were pissed off for some reason, Arthur knew you weren't going to be coming back for a few days at the very least. In the corner of his eye, he spotted someone lurking around quietly grabbing his pistol he swung round, aiming straight at the perpetrators head, only to find it was Marston.

"Marston." Arthur sighed, putting his weapon down after John had jokingly raised his hands in surrender. "What are you doin', lurking around ma tent? Ain't you got nothing better to be doin'?"

"Was taking a piss, whassa matter with you? Can't a man piss in peace?" John retorted, pretending he was adjusting his trousers.

"Behind my fucking tent?" Arthur growled. John shrugged in response, not really all that bothered, just trying to slip away from Arthur's intimidating glare.

"Best spot there was around."

Arthur eyed John warily, not really sure whether he should believe him or not. But something else was already on his mind, you. You had whispered a few words to John before leaving and Arthur was now curious as to what you had said to him. "Marston."

"Arthur." John deadpanned.

"Did Miss L/N say anything t'you 'fore she left?" Arthur bluntly asked. He knew that would make John stumble over his words and hopefully spill the beans on what happened to make you so angry.

In an instant John's eyes widened as he took a step back, retreating from Arthur's questioning. "Nah, she was eager to get going didn't say much. Anyways I think I hear Abigail callin' me, catch ya later Arthur!" John scurried away but not before Arthur had tugged on his shirt, pulling him back to Arthur.

The men stood chest to chest, well nearly chest as Arthur growled at John, knowing his answer was bullshit. "Don't lie t'me boy."

"I swear!" John fumbled, eyes wide as he tried to pull himself away from Arthur resulting in Arthur gripping him tighter. "She only told me to keep an eye out for you!"

"Why would she do that?" Arthur hissed. "Cause she cares 'bout you for some reason!" John huffed as Arthur let him go, brows furrowed in confusion. "Don't ask why, I don't know what she sees in you. But she sure was angry when she saw that letter on your desk. Miss Grimshaw was ready to get rid of it but she pleaded with her kept for yer sake, dunno why, somethin' 'bout her being the 'love of yer life' I think..."

"John Marston!" Abigail's shrill voice swept through the camp and straight into John's ears as he winced. "Now that ain't none your business!!"

Now Arthur knew you were a force to be reckoned with but Abigail Marston was on a whole another level. As a mother to Jack, a woman who had been through a whole load of shit, you did not want to mess with her, Arthur knew that and so did John- but John just couldn't help himself sometimes, and this was one of them.

"Arthur, don't mind him, he don't know left from right- let alone anything about Y/N." Abigail swiftly recovered from John's big ass mouth spilling the beans. "Marston, get your ass over here, I need ya help." John gave Arthur a forced smile before trying to move closer to his wife.

"Say Abigail, you wouldn't know why Y/N ran off in such a hurry would ya?" Arthur asked, sighing gently as he took a seat on his bed, exhausted from this back and forth. He just wanted t'know why you'd left in such a hurry. He glanced at the small pot with your flower in it, his eyes lingering on it as if your presence were there with him.

Abigail watched Arthur with hooded eyes, her heart was concerned for her best friend but her mind was telling her to let Arthur know about your feelings for him. She was conflicted as she looked at the poor man, he'd been through enough, but so had you. You'd watched Arthur through his tryst with Mary, with Eliza and now yourself. Even if Arthur hadn't admitted his feelings for you, he was still playing with your feelings despite not knowing, and Abigail knew that hurt you more than you'd care to admit.

"She's on an errand for Dutch, but she'll be back in the 'noon." Abigail relented. "Arthur-

"Woah Uncle Arthur, that's a pretty flower!" Jack burst in with amazement, little curious eyes watching the flower. "I think it's a yah- yah-re-oo? Mama I don't remember the name!" Abigail's mouth remained closed as she watched her son continue observing it before explaing what the beautiful plant meant.

"But Auntie Y/N taught me that if you give this to someone it means you think they are brave, and that you've loved them for a very long time!" Jack finished off with a bright smile. "That means someone loves you very much Uncle Arthur! Who gave it to you?"

Arthur blinked back a few tears at the boys words, you loved him? Is that why you were so angry at the saloon? Because of that woman? Arthur's eyes glanced over to the letter next to the flower- or was it because you'd seen the letter from Mary?

"I-er-

"Jack let's get you to bed. I think Uncle Arthur needs to sort out a few things." Abigail quickly stepped in, taking her son into her arms. "A word to the wise Arthur, you need to make a decision. Y/N is a good woman, far better than what you deserve but she can't keep hanging onto some hope that you'll be hers one day."

"It's her or Mary." John spoke softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know who'd I pick if I were in your shoes. The one who's been there for all yer ups and downs."

***

Dear Arthur,

I know it's been a while but I do miss you ever so much. I know what we had before wa-

Arthur may be a bad man, but he wasn't silly. He knew he wasn't going to fall back at Mary's feet again. But he had to know, to confirm he was making the right choice by giving you his heart, by committing to you. He'd already had his heart broken by Mary and he knew he couldn't bare that from you.

He would stop dreaming up a fantasy 'bout Mary, he hadn't done so in a while. Not in a long time not since you came along.

He continued to skim-read the letter knowing deep down in his heart, it was always you. This, this was just closure for him, to get away from Mary, to leave that chapter of his life behind and begin one with you.

Hosea and Miss Grimshaw watched from afar as their adopted son scrunched up the letter and threw it into the camp fire, ultimately ending that chapter as he bid Mary solid goodbye.

***

"Jack?" Arthur called the boy hesitantly, not trying to garner anyone's attention but the young child. "C'mere a sec, I needa huge favour from ya."

"Of course Uncle Arthur! What do you need? Shall I get mama?" Jack asked happily as he skipped over to Arthur.

"NO!" Arthur immediately replied giving Jack a little scare as he stared at the older man in slight shock. "I mean No, I don't need ya mama, I just need you kiddo."

"Okay!" Jack skipped over to his uncle before sitting at his legs. "What do you need Uncle Arthur?"

"I-er-" Arthur stumbled over his words before blurting out what he really needed from the young child. "Can ya tell me about the flowers your Auntie told yer about?"

"Ooohh!! Was it Auntie Y/N who got you the pretty flower?" Jack let out a little gasp of surprise. "Does that mean she loves you? Do you love her?"

Arthur quickly shushed the little boy with a fond smile at the mention of you. "Yeah, I do Jack. More than I realised."

~ ~ ~

Trying to slip out of camp was always a challenge but Arthur had never been one to shy away from it. He quickly jumped onto his horse but not before Dutch called out from the tent, albeit very loudly "Go get her back son!"

Arthur shook his head in embarrassment as he made his way out of camp, the cheers of everyone egging him on to get his girl back and from Sean, to give her one hell of a Valentines present.

***

It was ironic, Arthur found you in Valentine where it had all started and where he would confess everything. He knocked on your door, before he heard your sweet voice call out to come in. He pushed the door open gently, before he saw you sat on the bed, cleaning your guns.

Lord above, you surely were a sight for sore eyes, Arthur couldn't believe he'd almost ruined a real chance at a relationship with you.

"Happy Valentines Day sweetheart..." Arthur shyly approached you, a pretty bouquet held in between his fingers as he bit his lip in anticipation. "I know it's late and it ain't much, after all that's happened, but it's t-

Before he could even finish, you'd dropped your guns, leapt into his arms, your arms wrapped around his neck as you tumbled onto the ground with him. Arthur broke the fall with his body as he held you tightly, the bouquet still intact in one hand.

"Darlin'! Wha' was that for?" Arthur grinned, his arms holding your hips above him. "Almost crushed m' gift for you!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run off. I was angry an-" Arthur watched as you took in a deep breath and shyly responded "I missed you..."

"I know sweethear', I didn't realise how much I needed you till you left. I'm sorry 'bout the letter, 'bout Mary, 'bout everything. I-i-" Arthur gulped, it was now or never.

"I love you darlin', think I always have, just didn't realise it till you left." Arthur smiled as he pushed a stray strand of hair away.

You admired the flowers he had carefully chosen. Yarrow for everlasting love, a red rose to express his love, and explicitly saying that he loves you and a while rose. The rarest of them all, and the most meaningful to you- Arthur had accepted that he was worthy of your sweet love for him and he would gladly open his heart for you.

"I-er had a little help from Jack with the flowers. The white rose was the hardest, but I had to have it in the bouquet." Arthur shyly rubbed the back of his head.

"I love it! And more importantly, I love you, always have done. No matter what, you'd always have me. I'd rather be in your life than outta it." You grinned, kissing his lips gently as Arthur responded happily.

"Your sure? Cos you're stuck with me for good now?" Arthur replied against your lips.

"Forever darlin'..."

"Want to extend our stay in Valentine?"

[Bonus]

Walking into the room Arthur had you blindfolded and made you wait while he quickly set up. "Honey, how long is this gonna take?"

"Keep ya knickers on, I'm almost done!" Arthur retorted, almost muffled before he told you to remove your blindfold. "Take it off darling."

Slowly stripping it off, your eyes widened in lust as you took the sight in before you. Arthur Morgan was naked on the bed with only a very large box of chocolates covering his dick. He had spread white and red roses around the bed and floor, and a scented candle lit in each corner of the room. He held a sign in his hands that read "Will you be mine forever?"

"So will you sweetheart?" Arthur asked rather hesitantly, even though he knew your answer.

"You don't have to ask Arthur. I'm yours forever long you'll have me." You smiled sweetly as you made your way over to him, opening the box and popping a chocolate into your mouth before kissing him and sharing the chocolate.

"I've always been yours darlin', long before I even knew it." Arthur grinned, tugging you closer but not before you placed a hand on his chest, stopping him with a cheeky grin and teasingly asked,

"Can I unwrap my present now?"

***

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #john marston #abigail marston #jack marston #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #rdr2 #red dead redemption #melissa writes 💕

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

‘Tis The Damn Season: Chapter Three

pairing: marcus pike x f!ofc (nathalie moss)

chapter rating: E (18+ Only, no explicit smut but lots of steamy makeouts and wandering hands so putting an explicit warning just to be safe, talks of anxiety, talks of breakups/cheating, smooch city basically)

word count: 4k

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Nathalie hadn’t been on a first date in seven years.

The last time she’d done this—getting pampered and getting ready, squeezing on her best dress and making sure her red lipstick wasn’t bleeding onto her pearly whites—she’d was only twenty-one years old. She knew so little about herself, about what she wanted and didn’t want in a parter and in life. She used to be content with simply being desired, but now, after years and years of hard lessons and harsh truths, she craved so much more from this silly little thing called love.

As she stood in front of her full-length mirror examining herself, her hands smoothing over the fabric of the little black dress she’d worn for Valentine’s Day—back when she was still a bride-to-be, she couldn’t help but wonder how many of these newfound cravings were sated by Marcus’s presence in her life.

Most, her brain was quick to answer.

Marcus was kind, intelligent, funny, gentle, romantic, handsome, but above all that, he seemed to know her in a way her ex never did, even after years of living with her.

Marcus made her feel faint with his sort of natural ease in understanding her. She always had to fight so hard to be understood by her friends, partners, and even her own family at times. She was so used to feeling like she had to convince people to like her—to get her—and here comes Marcus, doing it as though it was as easy as breathing, flipping her world upside down.

“Who are you and what did you do with my gremlin daughter?” Mr. Moss leaned against the opened door of her bedroom as she fussed over her hair, combing through the curls so that they fell more like waves. Nathalie turned around with an eye roll and a chuckle, shaking her head at him as he grinned proudly at his teasing, a half-melted bowl of ice cream in his hands as it was “Sundae Night” at the Moss house. “You look nice, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, dad.” Nathalie walked over to her bed and grabbed her purse, making sure she had everything she might need in it.

“Oh, would you look at that!” Mrs. Moss gushed at her daughter’s done up appearance as she joined her husband in the doorway. “I hardly recognize you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, mom?” She asked with a nervous chuckle, their reactions to her appearance making her question whether or not she’d gone a bit over the top.

“Well…we’re just used to seeing you a bit more casual is all,” Mrs. Moss assured, though it did little to quell her daughters building anxiety. “Not that you don’t look stunning in your pajamas and sweats and pimple patches—“

“Thanks, mom.” Nathalie felt her stomach start to flip with anxiety, but thankfully, Marcus didn’t give her any time to simmer with it, his knocks on the front door making all three pairs of eyes widen with differing emotions—elation, amusement, and puke-your-brains-out panic.

“Let me go grab my shotgun,” Mr. Moss joked, earning a swat on his stomach from his wife.

“Hush,” she scolded before turning back to Nathalie. “You don’t even own a water-gun, you big idiot.” Mrs. Moss quickly turned her attention back to Nathalie, flashing her a bright, hopeful smile. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she spoke through an exhale as she grabbed her clutch and followed her nosy parents down to the front door, quickly throwing her coat and scarf on. Taking one last breath of confidence, she opened the door and instead of beaming at Marcus, she was greeted by someone she never expected to see again. “James?”

“Nat,” her ex-fiancé breathed out in relief upon seeing her, until his blue eyes focused and he took in her outfit, clearly not remembering he’d already seen her in that dress earlier that year. “Holy…you look incredible.”

“James, what are you doing here?” She asked in a sharp tone, her parents eavesdropping and hiding behind the open door.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, boldly taking a step forward while Nathalie took two steps back. Sensing her hesitation, James froze and held his hands up apologetically. “Listen, I know we left things sort of…messily—“

“Messily? ” She asked in disbelief, turning to look at her parents for help. Her father was quick to make his presence known, staring down the man he used to view as his son. Nathalie begged him again, disgusted by his presence, “James, I don’t want to see you. I want you to leave.”

“Nat,” he pleaded softly, as if a little pout could remedy all the hurt he bestowed upon her over the years.

“James,” Marcus’ voice was both soothing and worrying as he approached her ex, taking slow strides up the porch steps until he was standing beside him, his eyes taking over Nathalie’s state for only a moment before turning back to her ex. Nathalie cringed. She didn’t want this to be the way their first date began, and she especially didn’t want Marcus to get the wrong idea about her and James—she’d much rather die than to be with him again. “What an unpleasant surprise.”

“Marcus,” James nodded at him, his tone full of irritation at the lack of privacy he was likely hoping for. The privacy that would increase his odds at appealing to her desperation and stupidity. “Nat, is there anywhere we can go to talk? Just the two of us?”

“No,” she chuckled, appalled by his casual persistence. “I told you. I don’t want to talk to you.”

He stared at her with pure shock. This wasn’t the woman he remembered—the living, breathing doormat he loved to walk all over was long gone.

“Besides,” she stepped passed him to where Marcus patiently waited on the porch, her arm looping with his. “I’m busy tonight.”

“With him?” James chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Marcus nodded, suddenly looking so much different than the man she knew. He looked more masculine, more threatening, the change in posture even making him appear bigger. “With me.”

“Don’t worry, Nattie,” Mr. Moss assured. “If this asshead is still around by the time you get home, I’ll be sure to handle it.”

Nathalie couldn’t help but smile at her father’s protectiveness, the man usually so gentle he refused to hurt even a fly, but when it came to his baby girl he would stop at nothing to make sure she was not only safe, but happy.

“Nat!” James called out from the porch as Marcus walked her down her porch and freshly shoveled walkway to his car waiting by the curb. “C’mon!”

“Well…he’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” she chided as Marcus reached to open her door.

“He’s an asshole.” Marcus looked tense, his eyes hardly meeting hers as he held her door open, Nathalie carefully seating herself without flashing him.

As she waited in the car for him to walk around and climb in beside her, she felt panic start to bubble up in her again. Was he angry with her? Did he no longer want to go out? Was her drama too much drama for him to handle?

“Marcus, I’m sorr—“

“You look so fucking good,” he confessed as he sat down and shut his door, shooing all worry out of her mind yet again. His eyes turned to meet hers, a longing in them that made her thighs squeeze together out of instinct. Marcus tried not to notice, but the knowing smile that grew on his face told her he was far too vigilant to miss it. “I had a whole thing rehearsed in my head for when I first saw you. But that was before your idiot of an ex showed up to try and win you back.”

“Emphasis on try.” She reached over the center console and placed her hand on his knee, one of Marcus’ hands quickly dropping from the steering wheel to intertwine with hers. “I was worried I went a little overboard with the makeup, and the heels, and the hair, and the dress—“

“No, I love the dress.” He glanced over at her with a smirk, his eyes flickering down to her cleavage before lifting back to her own. “You look beautiful.”

“All this sweetness is gonna take some getting used to,” she confessed softly, unable to believe his compliments after years of being picked apart by James. Marcus lifted the hand holding hers up to her chin, lovingly pinching it.

“I’m a patient man,” he assured with a knee-weakening smile.

“You’re…a saint, apparently,” she chuckled, turning to look out of the window at their snow-covered town.

“Trust me, I’m not a saint.” Her eyes wandered back to his profile, studying him to try and find any sort of flaw or sin lying beneath the surface but she couldn’t see any from where she sat—just a handsome man that made her feel at home whenever she looked into his eyes.

“I’m struggling to see where your faults are,” she challenged, earning a bashful chuckle. “I’ve always thought you were so much better than everyone. Not even just your looks—“

“Tell me more about my good looks.” He glanced at her with a smirk.

“I think I’ll save that ego-boost for another time,” she winked, forcing a blush to his cheeks. “But no, beyond all that physical stuff, you’ve always just been such a good guy. You sorta set a standard, intentionally or not.”

“Well,” he laughed. “I’m good at seeming a lot better than I am, I guess.”

“Well, go on, then. What’s going on beneath the surface that I haven’t seen yet?” She challenged with an eyebrow raise and a smirk, Marcus shrugging through his shyness.

“I don’t know,” he spoke with a boyish bashfulness and a smile. When he turned to look at her, his train of thought was interrupted by the passing yellow light of the street lamps illuminating her face. Suddenly every word he knew seemed more meaningless than they did a few seconds prior, none of them quite able to describe her beauty well enough to earn being voiced to her listening ears. So, he settled on saying nothing at all, his eyes choosing to keep this moment of admiration a private one for now. “There’s lots of things.”

“Just give me one thing that makes you anything less than perfect,” she asked sweetly, oblivious to the fact that Marcus would already do whatever for her, including laying his heart out for her to judge and pick apart at her will.

“Okay, I rush into things a lot. That’s a big one,” he finally managed a response as they pulled into the parking lot of an upscale Italian restaurant. “Yeah, I just…in the past, I’ve gotten swept up in the romance of it all and I suppose I had a tendency to move a little quick.”

“I don’t mind moving a little quick every now and then,” she replied, tone thick with suggestion. Marcus chuckled and let out a sigh, struggling to find the willpower to do as his mother told and take things slow with Nathalie.

“You’re…” he chuckled as he struggled to find an adequate adjective to describe her. “I’d say perfect but that makes it sound like having flaws is a bad thing.“

“They’re not?” She questioned, shifting in her seat to better face him, content to spend the entire night right there in this parking lot listening to him speak.

“I don’t think so,” he shrugged, turning a bit in his own seat. Nathalie quirked an eyebrow at him in a silent demand for him to elaborate and he chuckled. “They go into making you, you just as much as the good stuff does.”

Nathalie smiled and nodded, her eyes locked on his. With her smile growing wider and more playful, she looked down at her lap and spoke, “So…if you don’t want to call me perfect, what am I then?”

“Thought-consuming, how about that?” He sounded bashful, his voice quieted to a rasp just above a whisper.

Nathalie didn’t care that they were in a parking lot, she didn’t care that anyone could walk past and judge them, she only cared about feeling his lips on hers again, his taste and feel intoxicating and soothing at the same time.

“Think that’s two words,” she breathed out as she leaned over the console between them, Marcus grinning as he met her halfway into a nearly painful kiss. Her hands held the curve of where his jaw met his neck while his rested on her face, keeping her close. When Nathalie tested out something needier, a swipe of her tongue over his lips, Marcus let out a groan that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.

“Mm,” he hummed as he found the strength to pull away, chuckling against her lips. “Taking it slow, remember.”

“That’s gonna be…”

“Impossible, yeah.” He laughed through a sigh and ran his hands over his face as he sat back in his seat.

“You okay?” She asked with genuine concern. Marcus was quick to nod and give her a soft smile to reassure her.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to…calm down,” he chuckled in embarrassment as Nathalie’s eyes lowered to his pants, his unexpected (and impressive) bulge causing her eyes to widen.

“Yeah, this is…gonna be difficult,” she laughed and lifted her eyes back to his, reaching over to pinch his bearded chin. “And really fun.”

“Yeah,” he beamed. “I think so too.”

“Do you still wanna go in?” She asked after a beat, earning a curious look from Marcus. “Honestly, we could just grab McDonald’s and sit in the car all night talking and I’d be happy.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a curl of his lips. “We can do whatever you want. I’m just glad to be here.”

“Me too.” She reached over and tugged him in for one more kiss, this time something soft and sweet rather than needy and heated. She wanted him to feel how happy he was already making her, how downright into him she was. His soft hum buzzing against her lips told her that he was hoping to do the same. “Okay, McDonald’s now.”

“Yes, Miss Moss.”

“So…” Marcus started with a smirk, pausing to chew on the fries he’d just lifted to his lips. The couple was sat in the McDonald’s parking lot, the bright yellow and red light of the Golden Arch glowing into the car as they ate.

“So?” Nathalie asked with a look of amused interest, taking a sip of her Coke.

“What, uh, what actually went down with you and James?” He asked, turning his head to meet hers. Nathalie kept her slight smile on, though a sigh left her lips. “You don’t have to tell me—“

“No, no. It’s not…I just…the thought of him always puts me in a bad mood, and I don’t want you to have to be around me like that,” she clarified, but Marcus only creased his brows in response.

“Nat,” he spoke her name sternly, bringing her eyes back to his. “You don’t have to hide yourself away from me. I work for the government, I’m good at handling a bad mood.”

She chuckled and nodded before reaching over and stealing one of his fries. “Well, I thought everything was perfect between him and I. That entire seven years, I was delusional and happy and peacefully ignorant to how just plain fucking awful he was to me.”

Marcus didn’t say anything, simply shifting in his seat to better face her, his fingers quietly lifting his fries to his mouth as she continued.

“Anyways, one night I’d been working pretty late at the museum, and so I’d texted him and let him know that I probably wouldn’t be home until around midnight.” Nathalie paused to take a bite out of her burger, missing the way Marcus watched her in endearment as she tried to hurry her chews, her hand waving as though it would help. “Sorry, this burger is so good.”

“I know, I finished mine in three bites.” Nathalie chuckled as she looked over at Marcus’ empty burger box. “Alright, so you’re at the museum—“

“Right,” she nodded, regaining her focus. “I texted him that I’d be home late or whatever, but then I managed to finish early, so instead of showing up at midnight like he thought, I ended up showing up around ten—and the first thing I see when I unlock my door? My fiancé and my fucking boss fully going at it on the couch I bought. Straight up naked, spread eagle.”

“Oh, god,” Marcus sympathized, shaking his head at her as she nodded.

“Yeah. So, I left immediately and spent the night at a friend’s place. I just remember feeling like I’d finally turned the fucking light on and could see that this past seven years of my life, I’d been so unhappy. Sleeping on my friends couch I finally realized that I actually hated James. I was only still with him because I was comfortable. Because he was gonna give me the life I dreamed of or whatever. But after seeing him with someone else, there was no way I could go back. So I packed all my shit up and left town, left my job, left everything. Now I’m just here…recovering.”

“Jesus,” Marcus sighed, his eyes full of sincere sympathy. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s alright,” Nathalie chuckled bashfully, shrugging her shoulders. “After all, it brought me here.”

Marcus smiled as he leaned over, his hand cradling her jaw as he gave her enough space to reject him but there was no need. Nathalie quickly leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

What started out as a tender kiss soon became ravenous, Marcus’ strength seemingly to dwindle with each little burst of a makeout. His hand slid up her sheer stockings, warming the outside of her thigh as his fingertips reached the hem of her dress. Nathalie let out a soft, hardly audible moan as he allowed his fingers to continue traveling up underneath her skirt until he was gripping her hip.

“Marcus,” she breathed against his lips, suddenly aware of the public nature of their makeout.

“Sorry,” he panted as he pulled back, readjusting her skirt as he slid his hand back down to her knee.

“Don’t be too sorry,” she reached over for his chin, her fingertips smoothing along his bearded jaw. “Just maybe not in a McDonald’s parking lot.”

“Or your parent’s house…or my parent’s house,” he added, a frown forming on both their faces until Marcus seemingly got an idea. “Hey, I have to go into the city to finish up my shopping this weekend. Do you maybe wanna come with me?”

Nathalie looked stunned, but in a good way. The prospect of spending a weekend away in New York City with Marcus fucking Pike during Christmastime was the stuff of her teenage dreams.

“Oh no, is that too much, too fast?” He asked with panic all over his face, the first sign of that emotion that she knew intimately coming from him.

“No,” she reached her hand back to rest on his neck, scratching at the hairs on the base of his skull. “It sounds like a fucking dream.”

Marcus brightened again, leaning in to place a singular peck onto her lips.

“I can’t wait,” he smiled as he pulled away and packed his trash into the brown bag while Nathalie ate her last bite of burger before doing the same. “I, uh, think my parents are still out at church…if you wanted to watch a movie at my place or something? I’ve got…puzzles?”

Nathalie couldn’t help but chuckle at the boyish nature of his smile, his eyes clearly filled with hope for more time in her company. How could she ever say no when he was looking at her with his big brown eyes?

“I’m pretty good at puzzles.”

Marcus’s parents had indeed still been out of the house when they pulled into his driveway, but that was just about all that went according to plan.

As soon as the couple crossed the threshold of his front door, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Marcus walked her back against the wall of the entryway, making a family portrait rattle against the wall as she hit it with a soft thud. Nathalie giggled as his lips trailed down to her neck, the scruff of his beard tickling her the entire time.

“You smell so good,” he praised, too swept up in her to join her in her giggles. His voice sent a chill down her spine and she tightened her grip on his coat, tugging him closer until he was pressing his hips into hers. She gasped as she felt his bulge against her hip, quickly stiffening with each passing second. It wasn’t long before Marcus was breathing out against her neck, “fuck, I want you”.

“Take me upstairs,” she panted, her hand lowering from the lapel of his coat down to his cock, rubbing it through the fabric of his pants.

“Can’t,” he sucked a mark on her collarbone, a considerate one that could easily be hidden under a sweater. “My parents are gonna be home soon.”

“We can be quick,” she persisted, pulling his face from her neck and holding it as she looked into his eyes with a mischievous pout. Marcus beamed at her full of affection, his thumb lifting to stroke over her bottom lip.

“I don’t want our first time to be quick, baby.”

Nathalie felt like she was floating and melting and burning all at the same time as she listened to him call her ‘baby’, the look in his eyes just the cherry on top of an already dream-worthy moment that she never in her wildest dreams would’ve imagined happening.

“If you call me baby again, I’m gonna pass out, I think,” she whispered through her grin, her eyes falling to his lips as she pulled him closer for a kiss, Marcus chuckling into it when their lips met.

“Well, I’ll be here to catch you…baby,” he felt her smile grow against his lips, her giggle being kissed away.

As Marcus moved to deepen the kiss again, the couple was surprised by the front door opening abruptly, not giving them enough time to sort themselves out before his parents were taking in their flushed states.

“Marcus…Nathalie,” Mr. Pike greeted awkwardly as Mrs. Pike gave the couple a beaming smile, clearly approving of their romance. She tugged her husband out of the entryway to give the pair some privacy again, noticing the blushes on Marcus and Nathalie’s faces.

“Walk me home?” Nathalie asked once they were alone again. Marcus nodded, slipping his hand into hers and opening the front door.

Once they were out in the cold, Marcus wrapped his arm around Nathalie’s waist, holding her close to his side.

“So you got to ask me about my ex,” she started with a smirk, her eyes facing forward. “What happened with yours?”

“I don’t know if we have the time,” he chuckled.

“You can come in for some tea,” she offered, turning her head to look at him with round, hopeful eyes.

“Okay,” he agreed softly.

He was sure that she could get him to do anything with those eyes.

After unlocking her door, she welcomed him into her home, the lights on the downstairs all off signaling that her parents had gone to bed. Flicking through light switch on in the entryway, she kicked her boots off before shedding her coat, hanging it on the hook by her parent’s. Marcus did the same, except he chose to drape his coat over his arm, holding onto it until they reached the kitchen, then setting it down on the barstool of the island.

“So, what was her name?” Nathalie asked in a hushed voice as she started to prepare the kettle on the stove.

“Teresa,” he sighed, pulling out the barstool as silently as he could before sitting down in it. “We worked together on a case, art theft. I, uh, liked her a lot. But there was another guy who was always sort of there—in between us. I guess I thought I needed to hurry up and settle down with her before he could, I don’t know. I definitely wasn’t doing it because I was sure that I wanted to marry her. I knew she didn’t love me like she loved him, but I wasn’t ready to give up on the fantasy I’d created in my head of a wife and kids.”

Nathalie turned around once the kettle had been set on the flame, resting her elbows on the island and studying the hurt in his eyes.

“Have you given up on that?” She asked, watching as he shook his head.

“No,” he chuckled. “I still believe in real love and want to have a family someday, I just…I’d like to think I’ve gotten better about being realistic about it.”

“Did you think Emily was gonna be the one?” She teased, earning a guffaw from him.

“Emily was my complete and total opposite in every sense of the word,” he assured, standing up to go join her on the other side of the island, his hand tilting her jaw up.

“Did you two…”

“No.” He shook his head. “She’s saving herself for marriage. Apparently she’s very devout. I didn’t know that.”

“I think that’s the first time religion’s paid off for me,” Nathalie chuckled to herself, lowering her eyes to his belt, her fingertip reaching to trace the metal of it, Marcus’s breath catching in response.

“Thought I heard a noise down here,” Mrs. Moss walked into the kitchen and broke the pair apart, Marcus clearing his throat while Nathalie moved to take the whistling kettle off the heat. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” Nathalie replied through a still fuzzy mind, Marcus’s cologne still permeating her senses.

“Good!” Her mother’s attention turned to Marcus as he fetched a couple mugs out of one of the cabinets, having become familiar with the Moss kitchen over the years. “Marcus, any ideas for date number two?”

“Mom.” Nathalie scolded as she stood beside a chuckling Marcus, dropping a tea bag in each mug before filling them with water.

“Actually, yeah. I’m going into the city for some last minute Christmas shopping this weekend and I invited Nat to come,” he smiled as he glanced over at Nathalie, carefully measuring honey on a spoon before dropping it into the hot tea.

“Oh, how fun! It’s been half a year since she’s left our little town.” Her mom teased, earning another embarrassed groan from her daughter. Marcus couldn’t help but feel even more endeared to her as she blushed her way through fixing him a cup of tea, avoiding both pairs of eyes locked onto her.

“Mom, Marcus and I were talking,” Nathalie gave her mom a look that she hoped conveyed her desperation for more alone time with her date, but of course, Mrs. Moss couldn’t be subtle about it—not so long as it embarrassed her daughter.

“Oh! Talking. Right. Wink, wink.” Mrs. Moss retired back upstairs while Nathalie groaned and covered her face.

“I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t be, I love your mom,” he assured, rubbing her back. “I think it’s sweet how invested in your life she is. My mom’s the same way.”

“I think we have them to thank for us finally getting together,” she raised her mug up as though to toast, Marcus beaming as he lifted his own and clinked it against hers.

“To our meddling mothers,” he proposed.

“Gotta love ‘em.”

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu @fanofverymanythings @lovesbiggerthanpride @pinkything @fireproofmarta @littlenosoul @tryonmyworld @berriesarepunk @laureliciousdefinition @camishadjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @fishingforpike @rocketrhap3000 @amneris21 @lexloon @alwayslurkinginthebackground @myrealmofchaos @under-the-seas

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike angst #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike #the mentalist fanfic #tis the damn season

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user9898657876655667 · 1 year

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this was such a little random idea I had at the last minute lol, my apologies if it’s shit. I was incredibly bored 🤷🏻‍♀️

SHOWTIME - dandy mott x fem!reader (fluff)

CW: some small gun references, other than that.. no warnings in this imagine folks! <3

SUMMARY: whilst dandy is busy preparing for his debut, his loyal partner helps him get ready and to look as excellent as ever seeing as he feels he needs to be presented in a clean, powerful manner for this so called “special” event.

“Dandyyy! Stop moving! Otherwise i’m gonna smudge this eyeliner.. ahem.. again..”

Your boyfriend scoffed. “Well it’s not my fault I had to sneeze! I’m not fully in control of my bodily functions, you know!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at another one of his snarky remarks. Though, you knew he’d be pissed if he didn’t look his best. So you could only try and attempt to make him as dazzling as possible. After all, he was obsessed with the idea of being a perfectionist. Dandy and his appearance couldn’t look out of place, not one bit. Or so he said..

He still hadn’t listened to you, hence the reason why he was still wiggling around. “Darling, could you please sit still?”

“I can’t help it!” He groaned. “The chairs in this place are extremely uncomfortable. I would NEVER have us sit in anything like this at home!”

“Perhaps the freaks were never able to afford anything better before you bought the property..” You said softly, giving it some thought. Though Dandy only wrinkled his nose in disgust, making you scowl.

You finally finished his eyeliner, standing back and admiring his look so far. Dandy noticed the chuffed look on your face, making him grin.

“Anything else we should add?” You asked.

He dug through your small box of makeup, pulling out some blush and a ruby-red lipstick.

“Hmm, just a bit of this. Not too much. I don’t want to look like the nutcracker..” Dandy chuckled.

“Got it.” You smiled.

You proceeded to swipe your finger across the blush, slightly tapping his cheeks with it. He decided to dab it in a little as you removed the lid of the lipstick he’d picked out for himself.

“Careful with this.” He warned. You held your hands up in the air and promised not to go overboard. He tried to stay as still as possible as you applied the tiniest amount of lipstick to his lips. You instructed him to then rub them together.

“Alright!” You beamed, handing him a smaller mirror than the other ones in the room. “What do you think?”

His face lit up as he admired his features. He clicked his tongue before looking over at you, smirking wickedly.

“I look absolutely ravishing! Thank you love.” Dandy said, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled and headed over to one of the wardrobes nearby, taking out his cream coloured blazer.

He stood up as you returned back over to him. You handed him the final touch to his already stunning outfit, and watched whilst he shrugged it onto his shoulders. He took one last look into the large mirror that stood in front of him, clearly satisfied with how handsome he currently was.

“Are you ready?” You purred into his ear. The two of you laughed, looping your arms together.

“Ready,” He stated, picking up his exquisite golden gun on your way out of Elsa’s old tent.

You saw Paul standing in the distance, who quickly put his focus on both of you.

His face soon fell as he watched Dandy click his gun..

“Showtime.”

BANG!

#american horror story #finn wittrock #dandy mott #ahs freakshow #ahsfx #freak show #season 4 #ahs fluff #dandy mott x reader #dandy

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gale-gentlepenguin · 1 year

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Gale Reviews: ML Season 5 episode 11 Deflagration

(Spoilers below)

-So continuing from episode before with Scarabella and Kitty noir answering an interview explaning that the heroes needed to step down cause Monarch... okay.

-That reporter is right

-Oh damn Kitty noire can flirt. I still hate that lipstick look. The lighting looks so weird.

-Adrien seems down, I think he misses Plagg. But he also looks like he wants to call Marinette. Hard to say whats going on in his mind

-Tikki misses marinette. Alya thought she messed up with the interview

-But looks like Marinette can visit Tikki at least.

-"Did we miss an episode?" As someone that watches ML that is offensive. We get our episodes out of order dont complain ... lol

-So we actually get to look at Alya's room and girl has a LOT of manga and comics. Respect. BUT WHERE ARE THE PICS OF NINO?! hardly any. I only saw one in the group photo.

-Oh Alya, you missed more than you think

-Marinette checking to ensure alya knows the rules but, Alya assures her that this is not her issue anymore. She can focus on her.

-Meanwhile Plagg telling Zoe she is only lacking in the chees department

-"I live in a hotel with the biggest cheese cellar in paris"

-The moment plagg learned that True happiness CAN exist

-I have a feeling this episode is going to determine if I start Liking Zoe or not

-Catching Chloé in 4K

-Zoe caved quick...

-Plagg coming out with the diss track for Chloé's stank feet

-Plagg only had Zoe for one day and is ready to commit murder

-Plagg killed the dino's because they were sassing him. Amazing

-Plagg is baby

-And now .... WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT?!

-Did they just... THAT HAD TO BE A HALLUCINATION! I SERIOUSLY SAW THAT. GABRIEL SUNG! AND POORLY MIGHT I ADD!

-Also he slid down the staircase and the song stopped when Nathalie is like "The fuck was that you tampon?!"

-Gabriel explained why he is so happy

-Nathalie going back to watching videos of her gay crush

-Roarr calls him out like a good boy

-Gabriel is pulling out all the stops with this power combo

-Oh look the resistance is back

-Can we appreciate that Nino had a great speech with epic music?

-Adrien just turns it off cause he wants to ask about ladybug

-Marinette worried about chat noir

-Adrien is like mentally 'Oh right, I made out with her as chat noir'

-Max and Markov made an alert app on the alliance or smartphone. Smart move

-Kitty section made warning music. Thats fun

-So they have anti-akuma measures. Gotta say, thats kind of cute

-I know he says paintball guns. But I was kind of hopping Alya, Nino, marinette and Adrien would get real guns and cap an akuma

-HE WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME?! Dude! He could have just ended it there! are you stupid MONARCH?!

-Okay I know its not 100% and he needs to confirm its them. But like. He could have just stunned them. Checked them for earrings and rings. Then left.

-Okay Adrien you f***ing dweeb. I love it. He got a little make shift table for two with a bowl of fruit and a rose. BOY GOES HARD. ITS SO CRINGE AND SWEET.

-With supportive friends. They are really middle school

-Adrien my boy, my sweet sunshine. Marinette my lovely little moon beam. WHY ARE YOU SO ADORABLE AND CRINGE!!!!

-Chloé doesnt know what Generous means, and her alliance doesnt understand . So she tells her sabrina... which tells her alliance. I fucking cant....

-And Chloé is going to do something that will get her akumatized isnt she

-Marinette is trying so hard

-Adrien doesnt get that this girl is trying to grab what she has wanted for 5 seasons

-And there we go, progress was made. Thanks to Chloé interestingly enough

-Adrien is not dealing with her crap, neither is anyone else. Good on them

-And there Zoe is. Because she has had enough of Chloé being mean to her Crush Friend (Look I still believe Zoe is into Marinette.)

-And I forgot monarch was there just watching everything.

-Sole Destroyer? Oh SHE gets to be Sole Crusher now.

-she makes them into shoes that sing!

-Side note, Sole destroyer lOOKS WAY more menacing than the previous one

-OH S*** HE GOT EM! Plagg and ZOE

-HE GOT TIKKI AND ALYA!!!

-Oh no....

-HE PREDICTED PLAGG WOULD TRY AND KILL HIM?!

-so thats what random tikki power looks like when just casting lucky charm

-what did plagg do!?!

-YO!!! PLAGG BROKE HIS MIRACULOUS! THATS F***ING CRAZY. Plagg may be a cat, but he is clearly the GOAT

-Plagg really just said (Screw the rules I am not playing) And knew the lucky charm would be the way of fixing it

-Things are getting created and destroyed like crazy! damn

-Marinette went right back to Ladybug mode

-Comrade mayo

-Wait... does the lucky charm have a time limit if Tikki made it?

-So the miraculous are the tether to the human world. Wait... then how were the kwami around traveling in space before they existed.

-Marinette showed up in her own designed version of it. And I will say it. Aside from the helmet. It slaps

-UGH Monarch bug.... the darker mask is cool and the red eyes... but the spots are such a NO!

-Yoo, that throw should have broke Marinette's back. IT CRACKED CONCRETE!

-NINO FOR THE SAVE

-THE PAINT BALLS! The resistance is actually useful

-WAIT... THEY CAPTURED SOLE DESTROYER?! HOW DID THEY EVEN?! You know what? Respect.

-He deakumatized her.

-COMRADE MAYO FOR THE COUP DE GRACE!!!

-STONE COLD! ADRIEN TAKES THE LADYBUG MIRACULOUS! WE STAN MAYO

-Ladybug fixed everything then before Monarch can be glad the cat ring was back. Marinette snatches the ring... but not the rest cause he had too many rings

-Welp, Monarch failed bad. Covered in paint and now on the back foot.

-Chloé is just there tied up

-So they get their miraculous back cause they realize Monarch doesnt know them so

-Plagg wants to say good bye to kitty noire first before returning to adrien

-Poor zoe, But glad Plagg told her to stand up for herself. Glad some positives were in that

-And some platonic ladynoir at the end

_____________________________________________________________

It was certainly something.

Though wow, Monarch got his ass beat by kids with no powers. Honestly that was funny

7/10

I do kind of wish we had more ladrien. But Everyone had a fun scene. Though minus 2 for that bleaching of the eyes that was monarch dancing

#ml #ml spoilers #gale reviews #ml deflagration

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 8 months

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Breaking down the comics: Shattered like Stained Glass (issue 24)

Moon Knight, Issue 24: Scarlet Moonlight.

IT’S HER! Also look at this cover. I love when they do this well. And that pose! She is just stunning.

And then you have Moon Knight over there…Not sure what he’s doing. He’s having a moment.

I’m so excited to bring you this. I love Stained Glass Scarlet. Her relationship with Moon Knight is so amazing. She does good in her own way, acting as a deadly vigilante and in a way acting in ways that Moon Knight/Marc would love to act.

Considering that when we first met her, she was a grieving mother set out to kill her own son who had turned into a murderer… It’s facinating to see her progress in her goals and abilities.

So let’s get to it!

And right off the bat we have an opening page that is just outstanding!

Onec again Bill Sienkiewicz and colorist Christie Scheele have just gone OFF. I applaud them and am so enjoying seeing their style get finer and neater and just AMAZING.

We open on a meeting in a restaurant where a group of mob bossess setting up new territory. As they come to agreements, they shake on it and an figure in red appears in the doorway.

"The Crossbow, an odd weapon of choice in these days of more convenient guns, is a customized job equipped with a clip of five "Quarrels" or "Bolts"... All of which cna be fired in rapid succession without reloading."

And with that, the mob bosses are dead.

The culprit? Signs her signature with lipstick.

Look at that crisp looking Moon Knight. That is beautiful. Also, again we see him relying on instinct. A theme we will see pop up a lot with him. Going where he feels he is needed or where he feels the call.

The running man is a waiter that worked at the resturant. He points Moon Knight in the right direction and keeps going.

In the distance, Moon Knight spots someone in a red cloak making a run for it.

She takes a shot at him, making him dodge and giving her enough time to dissapear.

Of course WE, the reader, know who the bad guy is because of that amazing cover. A common problem with comics. They'll put a huge spoiler across the cover to draw in the reader, but then it leaves no mystery.

Moon Knight turns back to the site of murder to find Flint struggling to open a bag of chips.

Can we just say that I love Flint. He’s so tolerant of Moon Knight. This is about as close to friends as Moon Knight himself gets.

Seeing the S on the wall, Moon Knight is able to figure out just who it was that he was chasing.

"Suspicions confirmed. A woman, a red "S" overlooking death...One year to the night after the first death. Scarlet.... Stained Glass Scarlet... Scarlet Fasinera... Lady of sorrow and darkness..."

"Eh? You mumbling, Moon Knight? About what?"

"About a lady, Flint. A lady who thought she might be a nun, or maybe an actress... And who turned out to be both. A lady whose son did his carzy best to kill me a year ago... Just before dying himself."

I just love her design. She’s just stunning.

He tells flint how Scarlet was left alone 'in this bleak, decaying neighborhood'.

Flint notes that the men that died were making money from the decaying neighborhood. Big shots in the mob.

He asks if Moon Knight knows her.

Moon Knight says he does then runs off.

"Then what's her name? Hey! What was that you mumbled back then?!"

I love Flint. He puts up with so much.

Moon Knight returns to the last place he saw Stained Glass Scarlet: The Cethedral.

He finds it the same as before, decaying and being broken down by time.

Climbing to the attic, where Scarlet had previously made her home, he finds a receipt from a florist shop for a funeral wreath delivered to the Bronx memorial cemetery.

And there, he finds her.

"There'll be five more like that soon."

"I know, Moon Knight, and it's only the beginning... But they won't be cheap granite like this one... They'll be venetian marble and they'll cost fourty thousand dollars apiece."

She left the clue on purpose, drawing him there to find her.

He asks her if she believes in ESP.

"It wasn't coincidence that I found myself drawn to this neighborhood..."

"And you think it was ESP? Call it fate, Moon Knight, and I'll believe."

"All right--Fate. What's it about Scarlet, why?"

"I've declared a one-woman war on crime, Moon Knight, focusing on the syndicate."

She wants to stop the ones that have made a living out of destroying neighborhoods and that made money off of victims.

"Oh, I'll stop a cheap hood from mugging an old lady, all right - but my real targets are the ones who've set up shop in boardrooms and tax shelters."

The ones that turned her son towards crime and forced her to kil him.

Moon Knight is disturbed by this new vendetta.

He asks her if she's the same Scarlet he met who wanted to be an actress or a nun. The one that tried to save the lives of her husband and son and who hated guns.

She is, but she is no longer 'passive' or 'fatalistic'. She has 'lost her religion and gained a realistic attitude'.

He asks her why she took the money too.

"Why not? It doesn't belong to them. Besides, I... I've always wanted to remodel the churge...After my other work is done."

He then asks if she's going after the mob leader "Manny Sindone". She tells him how Manny was a cold blooded killer at 18, killing a girl brutally just because she refused to date him.

She talks about how the police and press all know exactly what's going on with Manny but have been looking the other way. He's seen as a respected member of his community.

Moon Knight gives a good point: "You're telling me nothing new, Scarlet. Why do you think I'M dressed like this?"

Oh Moon Knight... You know damn well why you're dressed like that....

Scarlet tells Moon Knight that he was the one that gave her son his first Heroin and this is how her son became "Mad Dog".

She puts it to him that Manny will die come nightfall. "Who would you rather have walking the streets? Me....Or Manny Sindone?"

She leaves and Moon Knight watches her go.

"Morning at Grant Mansion: The black wreath commemorating another death--that of Marlene's brother, Peter Alraune has been removed from the door by the Butler Samuels only moments earlier... And now having changed to Steven Grant in his mind if not entirely in his garb, the man who is sometimes Moon Knight enters the hall."

This signifies that Moon Knight is officially being recognized as their own alter by the writer.

My question is where did this get lost during the other writers and iterations?

Back to this story, recall that in the last issue that Marlene lost her brother and with her father also gone, she's gone through a lot of loss since meeting Marc.

Steven comes to her with a question:

"Marlene... Can I pose a hypothetical question to you? Suppose some one you knew to be basically good... Had done something bassically bad..."

Steven my friend... Read the room.

Marlene is upset by this.

"This doesn't sound hypothetical to me--in fact, it strikes altogether too close to home."

She turns to leave.

"Hey, what's wrong? Come here, Babe..." Steven tries.

"Not now, Steven. Just get on with your question."

"Uh....All right... And suppose this person were about to do something even worse..."

"Such as?"

"Well, for example....Eliminating someone."

"I'd stop it."

"Yes, but say it wasn't that easy. Say the person being eliminated were...evil. Say the person deserved to be eliminated."

"If you mean killed, why don't you just say it?"

"Okay, Killed."

"Then maybe I wouldn't stop it."

"But then you'd have to stand by and watch a murder committed by someone you...you care for. And the alternative means letting a previous murderer go free..."

Steven is having a hard time with this.

"Why settle for either?" Marlene cries, reemembering her brother.

Steven is still oblivious.

He wanders off, still deep in thought about Scarlet and fails to notice that she's still deeply in pain over her brother.

But then again, Steven hasn't lost anyone, has he? Marc has lost his brother and many others. Even Jake understands the pain of loss and comfort of his friends. Steven has always stood solitary with just Marlene and his mansion staff.

Back at the church, Scarlet looks over pictures of her past. Pictures of her young son before he became the killer he was.

Done with the past, she collects her crossbow and sets out.

Moon Knight on the roof is ready to go. He tells Frenchie to get ready to head to Jersey.

"Marlene was right--It doesn't have to be a choice! There's no reason I have to accept either of the two evils!" Moon Knight is back and ready.

Stained Glass Scarlet is sneaking past security guards of Manny's mansion.

In the mansion, Manny Sidone is holding a meeting with his big time guys, talking about the murders at the restaurant.

She considers killing them all. After all, not a one of them is innocent.

Moon Knight arrives as Scarlet prepares to enter the mansion.

He tackles her telling her that he has to stop her now and then stop Manny once he's committed a crime that is stoppable.

Waiting for Manny to commit a crime is something Scarlet clearly does not agree with (She and the Punisher would get along and I want to see this so much). Especially since Manny now commits his crime by just telling others to do it. There is no way to catch him in the wrong.

Their argument is noticed by the guards.

She apologizes to Moon Knight and he tells her not to do it.

Too late. She shoots and kills the guard.

Forced to work with her, she starts to take out and kill the guards. Moon Knight feels the conflict as he begs her not to kill them.

She breaks away while he's fighting a guard and heads inside.

While Moon Knight keeps the guards busy, she makes her way to Manny.

She takes her shots and they take theirs. Taking a bullet in the arm, she advances on Manny.

She tells him who she is "A mean mother" created by his destruction of her son.

She wants everyone to know who she is and pauses to write her "S" mark in the wall in her own blood.

As she writes, he pulls a gun on her.

Moon Knight bursts into the room to find the crossbow and gun aimed at one another. He knows they will both go off and he can only chose one to save.

"Both hearts targeted and only a split second in which to choose... Which will it be-Avenging Angel or Corrupt Devil?"

He throws his dart and knocks the gun from Manny's hand. Not a second later the crossbow fires and an arrow plunges into his heart.

"Thank you, Moon Knight...The night's work is done."

She leaps through the window.

"One side of him says it's over, let it be... The other side says no."

She stops at the train tracks where a train approaches. She tells him that she is too tired to keep running. He can stop her now, but she will always be who she is.

He takes a shot, but he misses. He doesn’t have the heart to stop her. He knows he can’t. He knows she is right.

(Also spoilers to the next review: Black Spectre review coming soon!)

This is why I love Stained Glass Scarlet. Her relationship with Moon Knight has always been a fantastic thing. She isn’t a friend, she isn’t a love interest, but she is his first moral ambiguity.

He respects her. He wants her to heal. He wants her to give up the violence and bitterness, and revenge. He wants her to be happy and move on.

Perhaps he sees himself in her. Perhaps he sees Marc’s pain and inability to let go. Perhaps he sees the reason he became Moon Knight the hero. He wants to protect her, a fellow traveler. She kills those that have caused great harm and pain. But Moon Knight himself can’t stand the thought of murder. Of her losing herself in the darkness with each step into death.

He also notes that he is afraid she will die in her quest for vengeance. A woman that once had such a promising life destroyed by so many things that fall close to home. As Marc lost his own family through choices that left him running…

Steven does not understand Stained Glass Scarlet, but you see him confused and questioning why he feels the way he does. Moon Knight is also upset and doesn’t know what to do.

Honestly, I think they see Marc in this. They see their own system. They see how wounded she is and her choices and they see where they could have gone. They see how Marc could have come from the desert and taken up his guns and done the way she did. They see how easily Moon Knight could have gone on a different path. They see all her pain and wonder if Marc will ever be able to heal. If there is still a chance they too could go her way.

Considering who they are going to fight next, this is a concern that will stay on the back of Moon Knight's mind for a long time.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #Analyzing the comics #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Stained Glass Scarlet #I love every time she shows up #This is where she comes from and how she got so big #She is always a favorite

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autumnalwalker · 5 months

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Last Line Tag

Thank you for the tag, @sleepyowlwrites.

Passing the (optional) tag to @izzyspussy, @emabatis, @amaiguri, @thetruearchmagos, @squarebracket-trick, and the usual open tag for anyone else that wants to join in.

A bit that I wrote last night for Chapter 21 ("Old Flame") of Empty Names:

Gretchen places her free hand on Eris’s shoulder and rests her head on Eris’s chest. Eris places her free hand on Gretchen’s wrist and rests her head on Gretchen’s. A foot wraps around an ankle.

“If I could give it up,” Gretchen whispers, “do you think things could work out between us again?”

The silence of past actions considered.

“Think about it, E. Has anyone else ever been as good with you? No one else has for me. And it was just that one thing between us.”

The silence of chance weighed against choice.

“What if for each other, we really could get out, E? Have one last hunt and mean it. And if it does call us back again, then if we’re both trying to avoid letting it consume us and watching out for each other, who knows how long we might last? Maybe we could even keep each other alive long enough to get tired and settle down.”

The silence of exceptional circumstances accounted for.

“E… What if neither of us had to die young? What if we got to grow old together?”

The silence of a conclusion reached.

Eris pulls Gretchen further into their embrace. They both lift their heads, faces nearly touching. Brown eyes stare into gold.

“Oh Gretchen, you always knew how to say what I needed to hear.”

“E-”

The embrace becomes crushing. Gretchen’s pained gasp at the vice grip on her hands and wrists is made shallow for want of air.

“Never were good at lying though,” Eris laments. “You know that stun gun you still keep strapped to the underside of your wrist isn’t enough to take me down, right? Or was it going to be the retractable blade in the toe of your boot going for my Achilles tendon? Come to think of it, that lipstick’s the poison apple red I bought for your birthday that one year, isn’t it? ”

Gretchen’s laugh is hard and sour. “Could’ve been all three at once.”

“Still wouldn’t have worked.”

“Can you blame me for trying?”

“No, and that’s the problem.”

“One more thing to say in my defense?”

“It won’t make a difference. You’re not getting through that door.”

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #tag game #my writing #writing tag games #empty names

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evita-shelby · 2 years

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An unholy alliance

Gift for @notyour-valentine in honor of her masquerade themed celebration

The prompt is:A place one is not supposed to be

And it does take place at night so

Gif by @thesoldiersminute

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The blonde aims her gun at the brunette just sitting in her rented room like she belonged there.

And she did or at least she used to think, Grace was brought up to think that people like her belonged in poverty.

But the woman in here with her was the exception, just like Thomas was.

Too smart. Too ambitious. Too different from the rest of their people.

Perhaps after her mission is completed, they can be friends.

“Neither are you.” Eva smirked. “My god you UVF twats can’t even train a dog to shit. Infiltrating a place with your real name?” She tutted.

“I haven’t been found out in five months, they aren’t very bright.” The blonde lowers the gun and begins putting her coat and hat on their place.

“I figured you out in four hours, which is a little embarrassing given that the IRA man you killed figured you out in thirty minutes and Polly Gray has known it from the moment she saw you.” Eva turned the page on Grace’s notes, notes she’s to give to Campbell at the museum tomorrow morning.

“You should be careful, Thomas Shelby always heeds the counsel of his aunt, one word from her and you’ll be as dead as that man you killed.” the second she says that, a small mirror Grace has hung on the wall behind the woman cracks.

She will have to include Eva in those notes now.

That would paint a target on the Mexican exile’s back, but something tells Grace that Eva is no stranger to that.

“What do you want?” she wants something, she must want something. Why else would she be here?

“For you to do as I say.” The witchy woman says in a low voice holding more threats than an angry shouting drunk.

---

Grace is not to call the police on Freddie Thorne, Grace is not to use Ada for information and, worst of all, Grace must not seduce Tommy Shelby.

If the Irish spy does not comply, there will be consequences.

There is something between the witch woman and Tommy Shelby, she thinks.

She sees how he looks at her when he thinks no is looking, she sees how the witch will meet his eye as they pass each other by and not flinch away.

But there is a problem, Grace wants him too.

Perhaps when this is over, Grace can make him choose her.

So, when Eva Smith is not around, she continues flirting, getting him to trust her, and even better, softening him to her.

It is all going well, the blonde thinks as she blushed demurely when Tommy smiles as he sees her at the pub that night.

He's even invited her to John’s wedding tomorrow night, a shame she has to work.

“You should ask, Miss Smith, I’ve seen the way you look at her, Thomas.” She pretends they aren’t anything or that she isn’t a little jealous of the hold a woman he has never spoken to has on him.

“Perhaps I should,” he says with a hint of a smile as he looks out the window as said woman passes by.

And he does.

Eva looks stunning in her fine clothes. Wears black because it is her signature color just like red is Grace’s.

It’s late evening and she will only be out for a short while, missed the ceremony earlier because her grandmother was unwell.

Some neighbor will watch her for tonight so Eva can go dancing with Thomas Shelby while Grace is stuck at the Garrison biding her time.

“Ada’s giving birth tonight, her husband will be there and if I hear that you even thought about calling the police on him the deal will be off.” Eva says as she finished applying a second coat of burgundy lipstick.

Campbell has been told of her; his superiors only laughed when he told them about a Mexican spy interfering with his mission.

She is to follow Eva’s orders, or at least give the pretense that she is. That was what the inspector had said in there last meeting.

It wasn’t like Eva would know it was her who calls the police tonight.

But I do, I know everything the witch’s eyes say through the mirror that suddenly cracks in warning.

---

“You aren’t supposed to be here.” This time Grace doesn’t aim at her.

Its well past midnight when Grace gets to her lodgings and finds two people waiting inside: a person who’s presence she’s grown accustomed to and the last person she expected to be there.

“I thought we had agreed you would follow my orders, Miss Burgess.” The witch says with a wicked smile.

“I had to, Thomas, I was under orders of hers to---” Grace begins to justify herself to the person who truly matters to her here.

She feels for him, not love, but something akin to it.

“She only took over your mission on my behalf. We needed someone who could ensure the good inspector kept his word and that he only knew what we wanted him to know.” Thomas Shelby gives her the coldest of looks.

She had seen him give them to anyone else, but never her.

He feels something for her, surely, he has felt it too. Thomas wouldn’t do this to her, he is good for her.

“You hurt my sister and her husband tonight. Did you know he was my best friend? Did you feel guilt that he didn’t even have the chance to hold his own baby son?” Thomas’ voice is steady and calm but there is that hurt in it.

Hurt because someone hurt people he cared about.

It’s then that Grace feels guilt.

Not for hurting Ada and her Jewish husband, but for hurting the only person who mattered in this place.

“I’m sorry, Thomas, I was only following his orders.” She didn’t have to follow them, but it’s too late for that now.

“I don’t think I can forgive you, Grace. You had a chance to prove you cared for me and my family and you only proved that your orders matter more than who you hurt.” He says as the witch just watches it from her seat at the table.

“What will happen to me now?” the blonde doesn’t know who she is asking, the man she desires against all better judgment or the woman she thought her friend.

“You will hand over your resignation tomorrow morning and never come back.” Thomas answered in cold anger.

“And to make sure you do; we will be watching you tomorrow at the museum.” The witch woman says in her low and sultry voice.

If you don’t you will be as dead as the two men you killed tomorrow night.

#eva smith shelby #grace burgess #tommy shelby x grace #slight grace x eva #tommy shelby x oc #valentines1k

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

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KOTLC Characters' Halloween costumes: 2022 edition!!!

Holy crap, I've been on tumblr for over a year now!! Let's get some Halloween costumes going, because nobody wears the same outfit two years in a row, right? *kicks my own beloved witch costume out of sight*

Sophie Foster: 1920's gangster. She's always been one for suits and ties, and she looks stunning with the fedora on her head and her fake cigar in her teeth. She drinks her lushberry juice out of a wine glass and talks in a Brooklyn accent the whole night. No one knows what her accent's about, but no one can get her to stop. She has bright red lipstick on her teeth, halfway through the night, and her brown eyes sparkle. Her suspenders are super cute, though.

Keefe Sencen: Cereal Killer. You know exactly what I'm talking about, because that is not a typo. There is a cereal box, and there is red dye involved, and a fake knife. Keefe is loving it.

Fitz Vacker: Alexander The Great. He's got his hair messed up and his eyes look a little wild, but the historical accuracy is there, from the Macedonian armor to the spear he made himself. There are feathers tucked into the helmet he spent hours making, and his shield is carefully crafted to have a golden star right at the center. He's wearing gold and red and he looks every inch like a warrior king.

Biana Vacker: Cinderella. Her skirts are shimmery and blue and she's got her hair in long loose waves, butterfly clips in her hair, and she's smiling brightly, and she looks lovely. Oh, her slippers are made of crystals. She commissioned them and paid money for the trolls to carve her her shoes. They cost quite a chunk of change.

Tam Song: Prince Charming. He looks put together and like the prince he is. He and Biana went to the party together, and if you see Cinderella and Her prince dancing the night away to "Monster Mash" you're correct. That's what they're doing, tonight.

Linh Song: Sheet Ghost. With glasses over the top. It's really cute, and she giggles and her whole costume looks like it's shaking. She's just floating around, and it's really really sweet.

Marella Redek: Katara, from Avatar, The Last Airbender. It's about the IRONY, and the hair loopies that she spent three hours researching and braiding her hair so it's accurate. She put so much effort into this costume, and worked on this for weeks. She's put her heart and soul into this costume, and it looks like it. It's just a brilliant cosplay of the character, and you can tell that Marella had so much fun putting it together.

Dex Dizznee: Pirate. He's got an eye patch and a fantastic outfit that looks perfectly like he walked out of a book on pirates. He even burned the sleeves with gun powder, and dusted his cheek bones with red so it looks like he's got a sunburn. Good thing he's got so many freckles, it looks like he's been in the sun for months.

Stina Heks: Goth Witch. She's got her makeup dark and her dress jagged at the bottom. She's got spiderwebs embroidered across her sleeves, and her hat is pointed and embellished with flowers and a skull(sustainably sourced). She's got her lipstick dark and her hair curly and scattered and messy. She's grinning, brightly, and she looks like a creature of the night. It's lovely.

Maruca Chebota: An angler fish. She's got her dress done up in shimmery scales, attaches huge teeth to her face with makeup glue, and she fastens a glowing sort of shield in place at the end of her headpiece, and she looks amazing.

Wylie Endal: A lighthouse. All of his college friends screech in laughter when he walks in and there's a light moving around him like he's a real actual walking talking lighthouse who just walked in the room.

Glimmer Alenefar: Fintan Pyren. There was so much laughter. She even went on a dramatic speech in Fintan's voice!!!! Sophie is losing her mind over this, and Keefe has been laughing so hard he's now crying, especially when Glimmer says something along the lines of "I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE" or something like that. No one is ssafe from Glimmer Fintan. Not a single one of these kids is mentally healthy. But stars, if they aren't having a good time.

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hezzabeth · 6 months

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The Winter’s Tale is and the Ramayan are both stories that take place over a long period of time. This is why Saying Farewell to Armageddon is set over three time periods.

Act 1- The first Winter

Act 2- The last Winter

Act 3- Summer

Most if not all the characters reflect characters in the two texts but it’s more fun not to say who! Some are more obvious then others. This post has the end of act 1 and the start of act 2

The android was staring at them, patiently—far too patiently.

"I would shake your hand, but I'm having trouble controlling the strength in these robot fingers. I keep accidentally injuring people," the android laughed.

"This isn't your baby," Sugafana whispered.

"It's not? Well, then whose baby is it?" The maternity droid asked.

"It's our baby," Jay added, placing a hand on Sugafana's shoulder.

"Your baby? The man who woke me up never mentioned you had your own baby," the droid said suspiciously and, with a swift movement, it grabbed baby Dityaa, shoving Sugafana onto the floor.

"No!" Nani shrieked as the maternity droid placed the baby back in its belly. The belly swung shut, and Sugafana, lying on the floor, heaved with horror.

"Genetic analysis complete," the android said, now in a woman's voice, and the eyes flickered again.

"I do apologize! You're right; this isn't my baby! But I'll hold onto it until you retrieve my heir," the android laughed, and suddenly something shifted in the dim light behind the sleeping pods.

There was a furious crackle of electricity, and the Android shook its limbs violently, spasming before collapsing on the ground. Smoke spiraled from its face as its belly door swung open, revealing the screaming baby inside.

"What just happened?" Nani squeaked, and from behind the pods, like an avenging angel, emerged Bapa Taka.

In one hand, he held a solar flare stun gun. The other hand was a bleeding, wrapped-up stump.

"This thing killed fourteen of my men! I'm taking back five thousand credits," Bappa growled.

"Perfectly reasonable," Jay said as Sugafana picked up the screaming baby.

The android's eyes fluttered open, and Bappa raised the weapon again.

"Baby, spider, run," whispered the droid in a very faint woman's voice before making a faint crackling sound.

Bappa stabbed it with the stun gun again for good measure before glaring at everyone.

"You all need to leave, right now," Bappa spat.

"It's still night outside! We'll freeze to death," Jay protested.

"You can wait in the corridors then! This thing killed the landlords! This is my camp now," Bapa growled, kicking the android with one foot.

And within one terrifying, bewildering, bloody day, Sugafana's life at the camp came to an end. The sun had risen, a tiny golden dot in the glowing orange sky.

"We're ready," Nani said from where she sat in the pod, the baby on her lap.

"Are you ready?" Jay asked, and Sugafana nodded.

"Let's go."

Part two: The Last Winter

Outskirts of New Landon 3852

Some cities fight harder than others. While others crumbled to the appliances within weeks, some clung to mankind for years. Revati Shaikh had lived in such a city for the entire seventeen years of her life, and now she was one of their leaders.

Well, not a real leader. Not technically. The BritinduSarvadharma monarchy had fled to the South West Sydney space station centuries ago.

Revati stared at her reflection on the shiny surface of a shop counter. Carefully, she applied her black lipstick made from ash and coconut oil. With her long, sharp face and dark violet hair, everyone said she looked like her father, Jay.

The mirror sat propped up on an upturned milk crate in Revati's office—an office that was abandoned.

"Mistress Rave?" A nervous voice asked, and Revati spun around on her swivel stool, which was in the shape of an ice cream cone.

A short, stressed-looking girl with curly blond and pink-streaked hair was staring at her, biting her lip.

"Did someone die during the last raid, Aurora?" Revati asked, and Aurora giggled nervously before pulling on one of her curls.

Revati had found Aurora screaming and crying in the ruins of a shop that sold soft toys. Normally, she would have shaken her loose, but Aurora turned out to have a fantastic memory.

"Oh no! The west-side gang defeated the karaoke machine squad! They're stripping them for parts right now," smiled Aurora, and Revati drummed her dark purple fingernails on the chipped baby pink counter.

"Then why do you look like someone has just been strangled to death with a microphone cord?" Revati asked curiously, and Aurora's eyes rolled toward the ground.

"It's your sister," Aurora admitted, her pale face flushing bright red.

Revati sighed with frustration, jumping off the stool. It was hard being taken seriously as a teenage warlord with a sister like Dityaa. A sister who would dance and sing while an army of flying air conditioners attacked. A sister who decided to paint Revati's guns hot pink, clogging up the mechanisms.

"What did she do now? Try to adopt a tribe of feral orphans from the wasteland?" Revati asked, referring to an incident from a month ago. It had taken weeks to get all the children to stop trying to eat the carpet.

"No, she went to the royal ball in Whistleton," Aurora stammered.

"So? She's always invited to events like that! Comes with the territory of being beautiful," Revati said as she walked to the shop's windows. Outside, the cobblestone streets of Olde Landon glowed under sputtering lamplight. Over two centuries ago, Olde Landon had been set up as an authentic "romantic history" theme park. Visitors would watch Shakespeare performances in the Globe Theatre. They would duck into little shops to buy peculiar things like rings made of human hair and belladonna eye drops. They would climb into things called "bathing machines" and ride horseless "carriages" around the park. Then there were the balls. Revati never attended the balls.

"Our sources say she left the ball early with an unknown man, and they were seen heading toward the park's west parking lot," Aurora stammered, all in one breath.

Revati, to her credit, kept her cool and marched away from the window, heading to the back of the shop. Olde Landon was considered by many to be a tiny oasis in the middle of the great appliance war. The appliances had invaded BritinduSarvadharma five years ago. Only Olde Landon managed to fight them off. Probably because the actual park already had massive golden walls and nowhere for the appliances to charge themselves. The west parking lot, however, was different.

Revati's mother, Sugafana, was in the shop's kitchen trying to teach the feral children to read. The five children were all too busy fighting each other on the floor.

"Look at their progress, darling! They've already stopped growling, and some of them are making 'mmm' noises," Sugafana smiled.

"That's nice, Amma," Revati said as she brushed past, heading toward the pantry.

Revati's great-grandmother, Nani, was lying down on the bottom shelf, using a bag of flour as a pillow.

"Weather getting to your joints again?" Revati asked.

"I'm almost 90! Everything gets to my joints," Nani sighed with annoyance.

Revati grabbed an old giant can of condensed milk and opened it up, revealing a weapon inside. It was two faded hot pink tubes welded together. A portable solar flare gun, the only real way to short out an appliance.

"Where are you going? It's your day off, and you said you would be home for dinner," her mother said knowingly as Revati put her jacket on. It was a navy blue and gold military jacket with only two buttons missing. Revati had, of course, stolen it off a dead soldier she stumbled upon a year earlier.

"Did you know Sissy went to a ball in Whistleton?" Revati asked her mother, who shrugged.

"Of course! We've been talking about it for weeks. Nani made her a gown out of those old curtains you brought in," Sugafana said as she leaned down to gently stop one little girl from biting another girl's hand.

"The fabric was lovely once I washed the blood out and cut off the burnt bits," Nani added as Revati reached into the jacket, pulling out a pair of old pink sunglasses.

"Well, apparently she's only gone off to the west parking lot," Revati said as she put the sunglasses on.

"Oh no! She wouldn't do something that stupid? Would she?" Sugafana asked in a tone of voice that indicated yes, Dityaa would do something that stupid.

"Aurora said she left the ball with a man," Revati said, and Sugafana groaned.

"It must be the boyfriend; he probably doesn't know the rules," Nani remarked.

"Boyfriend?" Revati asked curiously as she kicked off one of the children who was trying to pee on her leg.

"One of those off-world types who flew in last month to give us foreign aid. They met Dityaa when they saw her singing and twirling around the fountain," Sugafana admitted.

"Dear god," Revati groaned. She could easily imagine it, her foolish big sister in her pretty curtain dress surrounded by killer hairdryers. The boyfriend would probably be sobbing right next to her, holding a guitar. She had a type.

"I'll be back in time for dinner, dragging Dityaa with me," Revati said.

"Say goodbye to Papa before you go," Sugafana said before writing down fresh letters for the children to try and copy.

Papa. Papa was a small black shiny piece of plastic hanging on the laundry wall. Engraved across the front was the name Jay Singh 3808-3847. It was peculiar knowing that although Papa's body was long gone, his entire soul was inside that box. If they had lived anywhere else, the soul would have joined the great data cloud of the dead. The entire family would have dressed in their best and visited him every Halloween. Of course, if they lived anywhere else, Papa wouldn't be dead at all.

"I'm off to rescue Sissy, Papa. You would think that I'm the older one! She acts like she wants appliances to vaporize her," Revati said, stroking the box. The instructions said he was sleeping inside, that he could still hear them, like waves in a seashell. Revati turned away from the box and then marched back into the kitchen.

"I'm taking the two wildest children with me for protection," Revati said to her mother, who nodded.

"You heard what she said, Laila and Cora! Shoes and socks on and be good girls," Sugafana said to the two little girls who had been fighting. The two girls merely looked completely confused.

Revati clicked her fingers three times, and the children jumped up.

"Come! Now!" she barked.

Olde Landon glowed at dusk. Faint bluish-green light reflected off the windows of the fake Victorian townhouses. Bioluminescent mushrooms filled the otherwise filthy gutters with radiant green light. The mushrooms also grew inside the old "oil" lamps, giving the streets some light in the dark.

Revati's mother had once told her that the entire design was based on an ancient city from long ago. "Of course, they called it London with an 'o'! The lamps back then were powered with oil, and funny little men would light them with giant sticks," Sugafana had explained during one of their history lessons. "And people would walk around with half their purple hair shaved off and safety pins in their noses," Jay would add from where he sat at the kitchen table preparing snow ice treats. "No, my love, that was decades later," Sugafana would smile gently.

The snow cube shop had been shut for almost six years. "You know I hate questioning you, Mistress Rave, but do you really think bringing the children is a good idea?" Aurora asked nervously.

"I have them on their leashes," Revati pointed out as the ferals bounded ahead on all fours. "They bit one of the Hardi boys last week," Aurora added.

"Knowing the Hardi boys, they probably deserved it," Revati shot back as they reached the corner of Baker Street. Two young ladies were busy trying to capture the giant moths fluttering about the lamps. A half-open sack sat at the bottom of a cheap ladder, one of them was balancing on.

"Well look, it's Scarlett and Hamra! Stealing mushrooms from the lamps," Revati said, pausing in front of them. The two ladies, one dark and tall, the other pale and plump, glared at Revati with flushed guilt.

"We have a hunting permit! The moths eat the mushrooms," stammered Scarlett, pushing a strand of lilac hair away from her sickly white face.

"You have a hunting permit? We don't even have a working government!" Aurora pointed out, and Revati sniffed.

"Not to mention the fact that giant moths eat concrete, not mushrooms," Revati added, and Scarlett exchanged a look with Hamra.

"Big Hardi wants to eat roast moth for Christmas dinner," Scarlett lied swiftly as one of the feral Laila began to sniff around one of the sacks.

"Christmas was a month ago! And Big Hardi is an atheist! Try again," Revati smiled cheerfully.

Laila upended one of the sacks, causing glowing mushrooms to spill all over the cobblestones.

"Well, this is just sad! Lying over drugs, your mothers would be ashamed," Revati sighed.

"Please don't tell the mothers! We owe Hardi too much debt! He made us do it," Scarlett pleaded.

Revati sighed to herself, exchanging a knowing look with Aurora. Of course, Big Hardi was forcing kids to steal her mushrooms.

"Big Hardi knows that everything between Baker Street and Uppa Avenue is my territory," Revati said to Aurora, who crisply nodded.

It was a pity that the same bioluminescence that made the mushrooms glow also made human brains temporarily enter other dimensions. In the historical, almost technology-free city of Olde Landon, the mushrooms were vital. Some warlords, like Revati, who actually cared about her people, used them for electricity. Others, like the Hardi brothers, sold them off to schroom addicts.

"Big Hardi said you wouldn't notice; you'd be too distracted by your sister," Scarlett confessed, and Hamra kicked her ankle.

"That does sound like something he'd do; he's been ever so salty since you refused to lend him wood to make sets for his last musical," Aurora pointed out.

Revati felt a growl crawl through her chest. A deep, furious growl.

"You two, leave the mushrooms and come with us," Revati said firmly, pulling her weapon out of her coat.

"I thought we were going to rescue Dityaa?" Aurora asked.

"Of course we are! Luckily, we have to cut through Harditown," Revati pointed out.

There were two types of people who lived in the safe haven known as "Olde Landon." The first were the tourists who happened to get trapped in the theme park when the appliances invaded BritinduSarvadharma. Revati was only three. All she could cling onto were vague tiny memories of a tiny apartment with black painted walls covered in chalk drawings. Dityaa, who was five, insisted she could remember the legion of musical soap dispensers chasing them through the west parking lot. The "tourists" did the best they could.

Of course, they were at first horrified when they realized there was no technology that existed before the year 1899. Then there were the actors.

Revati and her troupe found themselves standing in front of the Globe Theatre. Revati glared at the hideous white walls over the edge of her sunglasses with a faint scowl.

"What play are they putting on tonight?" Revati asked Harma.

"Macbeth," Harma said with a small flinch, and there was the sound of screaming from deep inside.

"Macbeth? Maybe we should get this go, Mistress," Aurora stammered nervously, and Revati pulled her weapon out before urging the feral children to keep moving.

"Let it go? Curses are not real," Revati said firmly.

The two moons of Mars were rising, casting an eerie glow across the theater. Revati could feel the fog of dread seep through the walls and seats. Revati, who loved to make an entrance, forced her group to sit as close to the front as possible.

"Just leave us, it's just a bag of mushrooms," Scarlett whispered, her voice pleading.

Revati merely shook her head, placing a finger to her lips. The witches arrived. Dark, sinister witches, their faces covered in black lace masks. Someone had tried very hard to fashion them new costumes. During the last production, the witches had worn old shopping bags; today, their dresses were fashioned from black and purple rags.

"When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?" The first witch screeched to the audience.

"Oh, I think we should meet right now," Revati called from her seat. Hundreds of heads whipped towards her as she carefully walked towards the stage, the feral girls slipping at her feet.

"Uh, you're interrupting," the second witch pointed out as Revati rolled her eyes.

"Where's Big Habri? I assume he's playing Macbeth in this uninspired production," Revati asked.

Big Habri suddenly appeared from the wings, a plastic tiara clamped onto his frizzy blue hair.

"How dare you interrupt my production," he growled.

"And how dare you try to distract me with some convoluted plan involving my sister," Revati spat back, pointing her solar flare gun at Big Habri.

Big Habri's pale blue eyes began to scan the audience, his lips twitching.

"Call your actors on me, and I'll shoot; you know how fast I am," Revati said firmly.

The actors, all former theme park employees and their children, were now all murmuring among themselves.

"You refuse to trade your mushrooms! I offered you everything! Free tickets, beautiful restored costumes! Tea sets," Big Habri screeched dramatically, gesturing to his own cloak.

"Because you grind your mushrooms up and then get your gang addicted to them! It's not my fault you're a complete moron," snorted Revati.

"My actors need to see beyond the veil of reality! In order to give their best performances!" Big Habri cried, his voice vibrating, his hand dramatically wiping his forehead.

The audience all politely clapped.

"Well, my neighborhood needs safe electricity, and my sister needs to stay home," Revati said, pulling the trigger.

Everyone gasped, the witches screamed, and Big Hardi fell.

"Everyone relax, he's just stunned with some second-degree sunburn," Aurora yelled reassuringly as Revati spun around, waving her weapon at the witches.

"You steal from me, I steal from you," Revati said, and the middle witch snorted.

"We can handle a little bit of sunburn," she remarked.

"Probably, but I doubt you can handle Cora and Laila together," Revati said with a small smile before clicking her fingers twice, pointing at the third witch.

The leash spilled out of Revati's fingers as the children leaped through the air in a violent cloud of snapping teeth and scratching nails.

Little Hardi, dressed in Lady Macbeth's costume, was sitting backstage, smoking a pipe.

"They're not going to kill the witches, are they?" he asked, sounding faintly bored by the entire situation.

Revati shrugged, and Little Hardi just sighed, tipping the contents of the pipe down the front of his pink velvet dress.

"I told him that his entire plan was stupid and far too complicated. It would have been easier for us to just grow our own mushrooms! But he doesn't listen," Little Hardi said.

"Older siblings rarely do," Revati said, sitting next to Little Hardi.

"What can I do to make this all go away? I could let you rob the guy playing Macduff tonight! He was going to get killed during the performance anyway," Little Hardi said.

The troupe of actors believed firmly in two things: Realism and Justice. Almost every play ended in at least one corpse.

"I'm not interested in one of your actors, they never have anything worth stealing” Revati said.

"Oh no, this one was a lost boy we found trying to grow roses in the wasteland," Little Hardi remarked.

"And you decided to kill him in your play?" Revati asked, sounding faintly horrified.

"I didn't decide! You know that my brothers like it," he replied.

The lost boy was a tall, chubby teenager around Revati's age with brown skin and striking hot pink curly hair. Someone had placed tape across his mouth and put a crown on his head.

"He has decent boots mistress and an actual communication bracelet” Aurora commented.

"Fair warning, he doesn't speak English or Hindi," Little Hardi said as Revati leaned down. The lost boy was staring at her, not with fear but a strange, gentle sense of curiosity.

"That's fine, my parents had a cerebral lingua installed when the city still had working hospitals," Revati said, slowly removing the tape off the boy's mouth.

The boy didn't scream at all, just flinched.

"So, you can understand me?" he said in fluent Portuguese, and Revati's universal translator whirred into action.

"Yes, I can understand you," Revati replied. The boy smiled, a dazzling, charming smile. Revati felt her lips twitch upwards.

“I’ll let the matter drop if you let him go” she said.

#doctor who #nanowrimo #science fiction #nanowrimo2023 #life on mars #fantasy #saying farewell to Armageddon #nano 2023 #writing #art #good omens #one piece

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miniscrew-anon · 1 year

Text

HSH Febuwhump Day 9 - Voice Loss

This one here is a prequel to yesterdays post, “Panic”

----

Sky doesn’t even see the blow coming.

(His head was in the clouds, as Sunny would say. She always seems to make his worst qualities sound pleasant. Even though there;s nothing pleasant about letting his mind wander when he should be alert on guard duty. He can’t really help it though. He’s had so much to think about recently - Champion, the coma, the Goron chiefs death, the murmuring about secret projects, Princess Flora’s involvement, the Sheika’s edginess, Wild -)

One minute he’s turning the corner on his usual patrol route in the castle halls. The next, a hand is striking like a cobra and chopping him clean across the throat.

The strike to his esophagus cuts off any chance of calling for help. Sky wheezes painfully, backing away from his opponent. He coughs violently, his airway closing from the blow and making his vision spotty. He barely stays on his feet, stumbling back and pulling his gun. A second strike slaps the weapon out of his hand.

“Mmm, poor thing,” A man’s voice croons at him. Through the spots in his eyes Sky can see the attacker is dressed in black and white, with a blood red cloak over one shoulder. His black lipstick not nearly as dark as the look in his eye. “Did a naughty cat get your tongue? So sorry! But I really don’t want to deal with a horde of knights. It would be so bothersome.”

Sky straightens up in a mere second, shaking off the stunning blow. He snarls silently.

He doesn’t recognize the man despite his striking features. He’s no guard, but he doesn’t seem to be Yiga, either. Sky doesn’t remember hearing anything about another faction or high-profile target like this man.

“Oh? What's with that look? Oh, I see - you’re simply awe-struck at the sight of me! I don’t blame you. I am simply marvelous.” The man struck a pose, hands behind his head, legs in a relevé.

Sky glares. It doesn’t matter. He has no idea how this man got this far into the castle but Sky wasn’t going to let him go any further. He raises his sword, gun out of reach. It’s fine. Sky’s always been better with a blade anyway.

He attacks - a straightforward strike to gauge his opponent. The man smiles and dodges easily.

He’s obviously skilled, keeping on his toes and evading anything Sky throws his way by mere centimeters. He taunts the knight, smirking and cooing whenever Sky misses him.

“My my, you’re not half bad. Much more talented than any of the other failures I’ve killed tonight.” The man leaps back to avoid a stab, eyes glittering in delight. “But still just not enough. So sad, Sky, is it?”

Sky wheezes in surprise. How did this man know his name?

The man places his hand delicately on his hip, expression oozing smugness. “Surprised I know who you are? Don’t be, Sky child. I’ve actually had my eye on you for quite some time. It’s hard not to, with a face like that. I’ve watched you for so long that this is a dream come true. I’ve always wanted to see your gentle expression - twisted in agony!”

His hand shoots out, knives flying. Sky manages to block two of them with his blade. A third one digs into his side. Thankfully his uniform is strong enough to keep it from penetrating, although the impact makes him wince. Damn - just how strong is this guy?

“Oh?” The man hums happily, “Do I have to try harder to be satisfied? How wonderful! It’s really only fun if I have to work for it!”

“W-who…?” Sky manages to say. His throat is burning. It comes out as barely a whisper. The man hears him anyway.

“Who? Oh, where are my manners?” The man bows with a flourish. Sky isn’t stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap, although that just seems to delight the man more. “I am Lord Ghirahim, servant and right hand of the Demon God. Pleased to make your acquaintance. And soon, pleased to make you bleed.”

He’s fast-! Is all Sky has time to think before Ghirahim is on him.

The man uses his fists, arms adorned with metallic gloves. He breaks through Sky’s guard and lands several hits. His fists are like blurs and each punch hits like a brick. Sky takes them, barely even feeling them with the amount of adrenaline he’s pumping. He tries to regain his ground but Ghirahim seems to be everywhere, seemingly teleporting with how agile he is.

“Ohh,” The man moans, dark ecstasy written on his face, “What an expression on your face! Confusion, fear, desperation! I love it! Give me more!”

The man’s attacks gain a vicious edge to them and Sky almost blacks out when the man strikes his throat again, his windpipe almost shattering. But he stays on his feet, finally finding an opening in Ghirahim's guard. He breaks through and lands a solid hit, a slash from the man’s hip to collarbone. The force of his blow sends Ghirahim flying, a pained shout falling from his lips.

Sky didn’t allow himself to smile. He could feel his strike was weakened by armor - Ghirahim wasn’t done yet.

The man proves him right a second later when he leaps back to his feet, unharmed except a small nick to his chin. And a newfound murderous look in his eyes.

“Well, Sky Child. I didn’t expect that from you. Well done.” Ghirahim wipes the blood from his chin, licking it off his fingers lewdly.

Ghirahim’s own pained scream has been heard. Sky can already hear other guards calling and mobilizing. There would be backup on the scene in minutes.

“Don’t look so smug,” The man husks. “You’ve accomplished nothing. This changes nothing.”

Sky raised his blade again. All he needs to do is stall now. As soon as backup arrives Ghirahim can be taken into custody.

Ghirahim sees through his plan. But instead of being furious, he smiles cruelly. “You don’t even realize how badly you’ve failed, do you? You probably think you’ve stopped me. That all you have to do is wait for help to arrive and the big, bad intruder will be stopped. Naivete at it’s best. You don’t really think I came alone, do you?”

He strikes a dramatic pose, batting his eyelashes. “I’ve already accomplished my mission! Yes, that’s right! As fun as you are to dance with, you were never my target. As adorable as you are, you’re just a peon. No, my Sky child. I only ever had my eyes on you because of your dancing partner.”

Sky’s breath stutters.

Ghirahim smirks, eyes crinkling in delight. “Ah, yes. Your expression is prefect, my dear. Confidence shattered in a moment. Beautiful. But yes, I’m afraid your princess is already in another castle. That’s why I had the time to play with you. And I’m so glad I did. You’re so much more easy on the eyes than that cow you call a princess.”

Sky strikes at Ghirahim's heart.

His blade comes up short, caught near effortlessly by the smirking demon. He inhales in surprise, his blade shaking in Ghirahims one-handed grip. The clash of their weapons strike sparks, sword against gauntlet.

Ghirahim leans forward, whispering against Sky’s lips. “I did love playing with you though. Although I fear I now must bid you adieu.”

Ghirahim palm strikes the side of Sky’s sword, shattering the blade. He follows with a sweeping kick, knocking Sky into the air with the strength of it.

Sky is still airborn when he see’s the glint of a blade pass him.

Ghirahim leaps back just in time to avoid Warriors cutting him in two.

Sky hits the wall hard enough to crack bones.

Ghirahim dives out the window before Sky blinks, moving easily across the rooftops.

“Intruder in the castle!” Warriors calls into his radio. “He’s moving across the roof on the eastern tower. Heading South. Proceed with caution! He’s killed at least five guards!”

Warriors drops to his knee beside Sky grabbing his friend by the shoulders. His blade is still drawn. “Are you alright? What happened? What did he say?”

“Sun…” Sky croaks. All his aches and pains are secondary to the cold void in his stomach. Let it be a bluff. Please let her be safe! “Where is Sun? He.. said he got her… Wars… Where is Sun?”

The radio on Warriors waist crackles to life.

“Red Alert! Red Alert! Princess Solara is unaccounted for! All units - Search and rescue! Do not let the intruders escape! I repeat this is a Red Alert!”

------

Oh Ghirahim, you’re so fun to write. So sassy, so flirty. I love his naughty, sexy bitchy self

Sky has the name “godslayer” in his file - this dude must have done something to earn it. And I imagine this might be the event that kicks it into motion.

#townhouse au #hsh au #hsh sky #HSH Warriors #Febuwhump 2023 #I love incorperating game story into hsh stories

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