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kisscara · 1 year

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O7. manager faruzan [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series

a/n: each paragraph with the members are a separate intreview. this is a filler chapter fixating on what faruzan is like and what 5O5 thinks about her.

"madam faruzan?"

yun jin, feeling her curiosity peak, repeats back what the person behind the camera said to her. the camera man nods, "yes, what do you think about your manager?" yun jin awkwardly giggles before sighing.

you exclaim at the cameraman, "madam faruzan!? oh, i like her a lot! besides the fact that she's on the eccentric side and tends to follow wherever we go and somehow finds out our private accounts on social media, she's cool! we've known her since high school, so it makes everything much more fun."

yun jin rubs her chin, "she can be privacy invading." the cameraman chuckles, "how so?" yun jin puts a leg over the other and hums. "let me see, how would i explain this..."

yoimiya laughs, "madam faruzan's okay. she's uptight but she always has the best band activities planned out for us! although, she does startle me a lot. this one time i was walking to a cafe and-"

"i literally see her with binoculars, hiding behind a pole!" hu tao frantically gestures, "that girl is on something! not to mention, she's like a super spy. she always knows what we're doing at any given time."

ayaka kindly says, "whenever i'm spending time alone outside, madam always happens to be there. she's looking out for all of us and i appreciate her service."

as you can figure out from what the members have commented about their most lovely manager, faruzan does seem to be a little too interested in the band members' private lives and activites, thus explaining how faruzan found out that you gave scaramouche a private performance. (see chapter five for clear up)

faruzan is strict with the way she works and is frequently seen barking orders at 5O5. across the web and within articles, she wears pencil skirts pairing with a white button up, and her pale teal hair is bunched up into a bun. faruzan is also close friends with the rest of her classmate prodigies that graduated high school early just like her.

those prodigies being alhaitham, tighnari and albedo. they may or may not be featured in this story in the near future...

but faruzan's mean demeanor is a mere exterior for the inner fangirl that proudly lives inside her mind. that's correct, madam manager faruzan is obsessed with the very band she manages.

it started when she was still in high school and her brilliant brain boosted her to her last year as a thirteen-year-old. she stumbled upon your band's practice in the music room when you five weren't doing live performances just yet.

yun jin had asked for her opinion on their performance and faruzan was more than happy to give them her perspective, but she wasn't one to sugarcoat things. during that time, she instantly pointed out all of their flaws and the things they should change to play even better.

yun jin was overjoyed about it; she loves some good constructive criticism. when faruzan graduated that year, she vowed an oath to become their manager and she did, just a year later after applying for a job at Inazuma's TEYVATMUSiC live house.

even though faruzan is the youngest by a year, she leads these six, including yanfei, to a great future in their music career... but she should work more on giving them space rather than following them around 24/7.

tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @aethersluvrr @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @loucaroarz @theblueblub @angelunatic @shinjuuz @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee @lovely028 @hrtswinter @duckyyyx @kissingkzuha @dazaisboner @adeptusx @tomotofu @yukiipc @loverhole @star583 @soobasaur @dr8amy @scaraapologist @raideneiari @rvoulte @aaeng121 @pyrrhicgaze @tjjjrsj @enviouspeanut @d4y-dr3am3r @aromaticism @undecidingfate @idontwantoeatspicy

taglist is now closed as i've reached the max tags in a single post. (50/50 tags occupied + officially removed users whose names aren't linked)

what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!

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suzitaree · 1 year

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Love triangle (S. Sallow, G. Weasly x reader)

Sebastian Sallow and Garreth Weasly were both students at Hogwarts. They were known for being two of the most cunning and rebellious students in both of their houses. But their world was about to be turned upside down when they met Y/N, a beautiful and intelligent (your house) student who caught their attention.

At first, they both tried to win Y/N's affection with their wit and charm, but she remained impartial. Y/N enjoyed their company, but she didn't want to be tied down to any particular person. She was more interested in exploring the world and all the wonders it had to offer.

One day, Y/N was walking through the Forbidden Forest, exploring the trees and the creatures that lived within. She was admiring the spiders that had made their webs between the branches when suddenly, she stumbled upon a particularly nasty group of arachnids. They had surrounded her and were preparing to attack.

There were to many spiders and Y/N eventually got stuck in the spiderwebs. Just as Y/N was about to be consumed by the spiders, Sebastian Sallow appeared hearing the cries for help. He used his wand to summon a powerful blast of fire, which quickly dispersed the spiders and saved Y/N's life.

Sebastian: Are you okay, Y/N? Those spiders were quite vicious.

Y/N: Yes, I'm okay, thanks to you. I don't know what I would have done without you.

Sebastian: It was nothing, really. I'm just glad I was able to help. Are you hurt anywhere?

Y/N: No, I don't think so. I'm just a bit shaken up.

Sebastian: Understandable. That was quite a close call. We should get you back to the castle and make sure you're checked out by Madam Pomfrey.

Y/N: Yes, that's probably a good idea. Thank you again, Sebastian. You really saved my life.

Sebastian: Of course, Y/N. I would do anything to protect you. You're a special person, and I don't want anything to happen to you.

Y/N: (smiling) You're sweet, Sebastian. I appreciate it.

After the incident in the Forbidden Forest, Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Sebastian. She was amazed by how brave he had been in saving her from the spiders, and she felt a newfound admiration for him. She also started to notice things about him that she hadn't before - like how his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he was passionate about, or how he always seemed to know just the right thing to say to make her feel better.

Meanwhile, Garreth continued to pursue Y/N, but she couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was missing between them. They had great conversations and shared many interests, but Y/N just didn't feel that romantic connection she was looking for.

As the days went by, Y/N found herself spending more and more time with Sebastian. They would study together in the library, take walks around the lake, and have long talks about everything and nothing. Y/N felt like she could be herself around Sebastian in a way she couldn't with anyone else.

One day, as they were walking back to the castle after a particularly grueling Potions class, Y/N realized something. She had feelings for Sebastian - real, honest-to-goodness feelings that she couldn't ignore anymore.

"Sebastian," she said, stopping him in his tracks. "I need to tell you something."

Sebastian turned to her, his eyes curious. "What is it, Y/N?"

"I...I think I'm falling in love with you," Y/N admitted, her heart pounding in her chest.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, and then a slow smile spread across his face. "Y/N, I think I'm already in love with you."

They both laughed, feeling giddy with happiness and relief. From that moment on, they were inseparable. They went to Hogsmeade together, attended Quidditch matches together, and even worked on a research project together. Y/N knew that she had made the right choice in choosing Sebastian, and she never regretted it for a moment. She was grateful to Garreth for his interest in her, but in the end, it was Sebastian who captured her heart - and she knew she would never let him go.

#Sebastian Sallow #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x you #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Hogwarts #Hogwarts imagine #Hogwarts Legacy #Sebastian Sallow fluff #garreth weasley #Garreth weasly x reader #love triangle #garreth weasly imagine #garret weasly #garret weasly x reader

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dakardreamsofsheep · 2 years

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The Cast of Characters

“The soul of a country lives in any one block” -Peter Hessler

The people make the place, and that’s especially true in Dakar. Besides the painted pirogues in Lebou villages, the bustling downtown markets and -gulp- the remaining French colonial architecture, Dakar is not a very Instagram ready city. “Lots to do, nothing to see,” is how someone described it to me. It’s a magical and compelling place because of the density and full commitment of it’s inhabitants to living their lives out in public space, and often together. Men work out in the dozens on the beach in muscled groups, women stride together in neon tailored dresses down the street, the nightclubs are filled with coordinated Afro-beat dancers, kids run squealing in neighborhood bunches down the alley, the fisherman grunt and haul their vessels together out to see, vendors cluster together with hair products and mangoes and dried fish. It was so overwhelming, at first, that it took a minute to separate out faces and stories from the crowd. Some of my first attempts at friendship didn’t quite take, as happens in anyplace. Here are snapshots of some of my favorite Senegalese and West African friends I spent time with this year:

-Ibraham: Guinean musician with a spider tattoo on his shoulder (he told me the spider protected the prophet Muhammed by weaving a web across the entrance to a cave where he was hiding, leading his pursuers to think it was abandoned.) I met him trying to haul heavy new flower pots up my stairs, when he stopped to lend a hand. He’d lived in Dakar for about 8 years, came looking for work and learned Wolof from kids here, though he spoke a half dozen other languages besides. He was an incredible musician, especially percussion, with a whole stable of guinean songs he could lead solo or sing as part of a group. I eventually started taking drumming lessons with him in the spring. He was constantly meeting new arrivals -especially from Guinea- and taking them under his wing, as well as striking up conversations with friendly foreigners. People were drawn to him, I could see. It was also a tough year for him, precarious housing and economic situation. COVID hit everywhere hard, especially creative industries that depended on live performance, and Senegal was no exception. He battled some dark days, alternating between seeking work in low-skill labor fields and holding out for musical gigs that never materialized. There was always his family home in Guinea to go back to, and at the end of my time he was ready to head home and recharge if things didn’t improve in a few months.

-Abdalla: I drew a portrait of Abdalla for his mom, and I needed to erase the mouth twice to make the smile bigger each time. That should tell you most of what you need to know. I had trouble connecting with a lot of the Baye Fall besides occasional greetings, but Abdalla was a local boy who seemed to dip his toe in just enough to scoop out reggae music and an extra dose of peace and love. The songs he composed himself are some of my favorite pieces of music from Senegal, and I hope he has the chance sometime to sing them in front of the huge crowd he deserves. His mom -Madame Faye- was not only acknowledged as making some of the best thieb in the village, but gave some of the best life advice around- I spent a good few days in her kitchen, where we’d berate Abdalla together for not helping with the cooking and he’d laugh his big laugh and play us another song. He was trying to organize a local music festival through the town, and waiting for enough funding to record an album. I worried about how trusting he was, sometimes; he always took people at face value. In the winter he let a new arrival looking for work sleep in his bed, and the man took off at 4 AM with his recording instrument, phone and guitar. The village seemed to take care of it’s own, though, the tough fisherman always jostling him affectionately when we walked around. He led a lot of our song circles, parceling out melodies and crooning high notes. During one golden afternoon I walked out to the beach and swam to Ngor Island, to find Abdalla on my favorite hidden beach with a few friends. They had guitars, flutes, drums. We sang together, and then when the sunset came we hugged and I swam home.

-Nalla: Friends who work towards goals are high on my list, whatever those goals. I few years ago Nalla was a pastry chef, when he decided he wanted to pursue art. He spent most of his time on the island, helpings uncle fix up a giant dilapidated house they were going to one day turn into a hotel/restaurant. There he holed up with paints and scraps of wood and canvasses and worked on his technique all year. Soft-spoken, blue-black skin, the chiseled Lebou cheekbones. He was one of the most constant presences at the Tuesday art nights, and I saw his technique improve dramatically while we were there. At the end of the year, he had a piece entered into the Dakar Biennial, and I felt like a proud cousin. He was an Ngorois through and through, with his dad a fisherman and dad an underwater welder. It was astonishing how may people he said hi to, both in the village and on the island. Sometimes we’d take out kayaks from the house, paddling out the the surf wave and daring each other to take bigger rides in the hard top. Even in the water, he knew every fishing boat and solitary figure that slippered along with a spear gun. He was focussed on bettering his art with a laser focus, to the exclusion of looking for a romantic partner, trying to stay on the island so he wouldn’t get distracted.

Julie: My Congolese friend, with a big smile and a weakness for sappy French love songs. She’d lived here for a few years, but been in a toxic relationship that she’d just escaped a few months before we met, with a jealous partner who didn’t want her to leave the house much. She talked about her mom often, a professional chef who cooked for airline pilots at the flight lounge. (Incidentally, her chicken recipe is one of my most treasured phone notes from my time there) When we met she was managing a clothing boutique, and sparring with an owner who seemed both not to trust her enough and to ask for too much commitment. It was fun to be around her; she had she energy of just having moved to the city and wanting to try everything. Carolyn took her along on several dance nights, and I think she might be hooked. Notably, she has an identical twin named Juliet, and two gorgeous twins with almost the same name caused a stir whenever I saw the two of them out together. In some ways she seemed to be adapting to life in Senegal, and others still seemed to grate. Taxi drivers going for the financial jugular in proposing fares never stopped annoying her. I’d long since resigned myself to giving the many kids asking for money a sympathetic smile and walking on, but it made her angry to see every time. “What parent would let their child out to do this??” She’d always ask. We were both trying to make friends and community in the new city, and reconcile it’s patterns with what we were familiar with. It was so nice to have a partner in that.

Petit: I first saw Petit marching around at midnight acting like a tree come to life. He was acting out a scene on the dance floor with his friend Tafa. The two of them remain some of the most creative individuals I’ve come across in any country. Like athletes slumped over chairs except for the big game, they had the ability to hide in a crowd, or to dazzle. Petit was often out of town, down performing or taking workshops down the coast in Toubab Diallo, but when he was around I loved getting together to dance or just play with movement. He had recently taken a puppet making course as well as a mask-styling workshop, and also worked as an acting teacher for a local school. He grew up in the southern region of Casamance, and talked about it always with deep, abiding love. I have no doubt when I go back he will be living there. His projects dealt often with the relationship between the self and the whole, or past traumas unearthed and confronted. One night he extemporized over Ibrahim’s drum beat, a monologue on the contentment we feel or don’t when alone. The last week before I left he was preparing a dance to welcome a group of black Americans, part of a program called Back to the Source. They were traveling to the famous Door of No Return on Goree Island, where slaves where loaded onto ships. After, they'd come to Ngor, where Petit and his crew were constructing a beautiful wooden door, through which they'd dance their American cousins as a blazing contrast to the door on Goree they’d just “closed.” Having such bright creative energy was a blessing and a half this year.

-Cheikh: ran a clothing boutique near the beach. He invested a lot in upgrading the space while I was there, until it became the hang-out spot for his group of friends. Twenty years ago he started out just selling clothes from a bag on this beach, and it was cool to see him now with a fancy shop. He started selling ice cream near the end, which I thought was a smart business move. I set him up with a Tinder account and we talked about love and dating a lot. His friend Moustafa always had a good sense of the political goings on of the neighborhood, and I lived leaning against the clothing racks, picking their brain and occasionally helping them sell things to tourists or lay out new merchandise.

-Amadou: Worked at a French-Senegalese organization around the corner, a center for unhoused kids, often running away from Quranic schools or home. Amadou ran soccer programs for them, helped with the lunch programs and literacy courses. He was a formidable soccer player himself, chiseled straight out of a men's health magazine. I couldn't believe he was still single. It was a treat watching the African Cup with him, such intense concentration and joy.

And many, many others of course, too many to fit here, everyone on their path, with lovely traits and foibles and disappointments and dreams little and big.

My European and American friends are dear as well, and just because I don’t spin out their stories here doesn’t mean they didn’t make this year so very special. Ben, Nick, Emily, Sait, Anne, Sara, Liz, Jake, if you’re reading this, sending you a big hug.

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tilbageidanmark · 4 months

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Movies I watched this week (Year 4, week 3)

The candidate, my terrific third thriller by Rodrigo Sorogoyen, about the fall of a (short!) fixer enmeshed in an overwhelming web of political corruption. Spanish 'House of Cards' meets 'Michael Clayton'. Sharp staging and fast story-telling, but it suffers from a bit too sudden ending. 8/10.

🍿

2 Finnish works, both starring Alma Pöysti:

🍿 Fallen Leaves, my 11th (?) dark film by Aki Kaurismäki. Sad and dreary lives of two lonely people, existing at the lowest levels of society. Part of his 'Proletariat' series, it tells of the same type of characters he always does: Menial workers who speak little, communicate without expressing themselves verbally, smoke and drink too much, who resort to chance meetings to lift them out of their gloomy lives.

At the same time, there's a strong 'Brief Encounter' vibes here, and a love story that ends like 'City lights' (with a dog named 'Chaplin'). 9/10.

🍿 Tove is a completely different kettle of Lohikeitto soup. A feel-good, often sunny biopic of Tove Jansson, the highly successful creator of The Moomins [which I never read and didn't really know].

It lovingly depicts her formative years, as she develops her beautiful art style, and discovers love, mostly to another bohemian woman. Alma Pöysti's acting is on a class of its own, unrecognisable when compared to 'Fallen Leaves': She's centered, strong, desirable. The scene when she kisses her (life-long) lover for the first time is tender and heartwarming. 8/10.

*Woman Director

🍿

Zhang Yimou's beautiful melodrama One second from 2020. A heartfelt metaphor about a political prisoner during the 'Cultural Revolution' who escapes from a work camp in the desert in order to search for his 14 year old daughter. An ode to the "Magic of Cinema" both as a tool for Maoist propaganda, as well as a fountain of emotions.

🍿

Jar city, my 4th sad film by the terrific Icelandic director Baltasar Kormákur. Apparently he's been filming mostly in Hollywood the last decade, but everything I've seen by him is from Iceland. Another atmospheric police procedural Nordic Noir, grey and bleak, about murder mystery, old secrets from a small town, and parallel relationships of pain between fathers and daughters. 8/10

🍿

2 versions of the same tragic infatuation:

🍿 La Chienne ("The bitch") is an early-sound film by Jean Renoir. Meek, middle-aged Michel Simon is lost in a loveless marriage, falls for "Lulu", a prostitute, and is being exploited for money by her abusive pimp. It opens with a puppet show that declares that this story is not a drama or a comedy and has no moral message. But it's a cruel and cynical triangle of love, greed and betrayal.

🍿 14 years later, Fritz Lang remade the same Caution Tale into Scarlet street, a Hollywood version, made under the constrains of Production Code Administration of The Hays Office. Edward G. Robinson as "Chris Cross", the henpecked husband and Joan Bennett repeats their previous Lang roles from 'The woman in the window'.

🍿

"I didn't squawk about the steak, dear. I merely said that I didn't see that old horse that used to be tethered outside here"

W C Fields' last film Never Give a Sucker an Even Break, with a script he wrote under the pseudonym Otis Criblecoblis. Also with Margaret Dumont as 'Madame Hemoglobin', Fourth Wall break, real laughs, crazy scene of falling from an airplane, a zany car race finale, and this exceptional Diner Scene. 8/10.

🍿

4 Soviet movies:

🍿 "To my dear father, from Makhmud".

Zerograd is another kind of weird. An absurdist Russian fairy tale. An engineer arrives at a sleepy town, and among the very mundane trappings, some details inexplicably stand out: A secretary who's completely naked, a cake he didn't order in the shape of his own head, a rock 'n' roll chef who commits suicide because the engineer didn't taste the cake. It's Kafkaesque and bizarre. 7/10.

🍿 "Yo Soy Fidel!"

My 2nd by Mikhail Kalatozov (after 'The cranes are flying') I am Cuba, Cuban-Soviet propaganda film about the Cuban revolution. Forgotten for decades because of its socialist messages, it was 'rediscovered' in the 1990's and regained its place among the world's top movies. Especially in regards to its cinematography, and dazzling camera work: Includes some of history's greatest tracking shots [equal to and better than with 'Goodfellas' Copacabana Club, 'Touch of Evil' and 'The Player' openings, 'Path of glory', etc.] Written by Yevtushenko: Guernica for cinema.

[Not Cubano, but I've been listening to Rita Payés's Nunca vas a comprender 100 times or more, and it reminds me of some of the scenes here.]

🍿 The Steamroller and the Violin, Tarkovsky's very first film, made for his film school diploma finals. A sweet story of a 7 year old violinist who befriends a steamroller driver, it gives similar innocent vibes as 'The red balloon'.

🍿 Chess Fever, my first silent comedy by Pudovkin, the influential developer of montage theories, and who feuded with Eisenstein about the political purpose of the edits. It also was the basis for Nabokov's novel 'The Luhzin defense'!

🍿

The cute Australian comedy The dish, my second by Rob Sitch (after 'The Castle'). How a remote radio astronomy observatory in New South Wales helped relay live-TV feed during Apollo 11 Moon landing. One implausible problem was to have only 4 guys manning the whole operation.

🍿

"Seven years of hamburgers..."

Behind the locked door, my first episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour TV show. Gloria Swanson punishes a gold digger who married and then killed her daughter.

🍿

I haven't seen A simple favour for a couple of months, so here I go again. Why is it so appealing to me? it's mostly because of how sexy-cute Anna Kendrick is. My previous structural analysis from a few watches ago still stands. 10/10.

🍿

2 documentaries of the week:

🍿 "This is the dawning of the age of asparagus..."

The Disappearance of Shere Hite, a compassionate story of a most amazing trailblazing woman. She dared talk publicly about masturbation and "intercourse" (what we now call 'fucking'), when even the words 'Clitoris' and 'Orgasm' were not permitted in most newspapers. I bought and read her 600 page report then, but let's not talk about the 70's.

Oh, sexual liberation in misogynist America, the culture that hates woman so much, it keeps oppressing them in today as it did for hundreds of years! It's blood-boiling tragic. 7/10. (Photo Above).

*Woman Director

🍿 I knew it would be painful for me to watch the 2023 documentary Israelism, and it surely was. A brave review and critique of the American Jewish relationship to Israel. How it calcified into a harsh dogma, embodying a narrative that Israel is a peace loving democracy. This dogma does not allow for even a tiny tinge of rebuke, and aligns itself today with the worst at the white-nationalist coalition. It follows two disillusioned American Zionists who come to realize that the propaganda they heard since birth covers a vast system of oppression, and their struggle to see what is really happening in Palestine.

Watching the heartbreaking realities of life under apartheid [even before the current genocide] felt like the worst stomach churning horror movie I've seen. Utterly depressing.

8/10, and if not for the overwhelming, constant mood-setting soundtrack, it would score even higher.

🍿

The hidden face, is a shallow Colombian thriller about a woman that 'disappeared'. It starts out bland, with uninteresting main characters, but midways drops one hell of an De Palma twist. 4/10.

🍿

A Few Shorts:

🍿 Jada, a sad little story about a homeless 7-year-old black kid surviving on her own on the streets of Venice Beach. The performance of the little girl who played her was tremendous. 8/10.

🍿 Pony, a 30-minute gem about the cutest 5-year-old girl, who has to spend a weekend with her jaded rock musician uncle, when her single mom must go out of town. The little actress is so so sweet, and she asks him questions like “How do bumblebees poop?”. Unsentimental, unexpected. 9/10.

*Woman Director

🍿"When you get an opportunity, it’s nothing more than a chance to be disappointed".

In The Dishwasher, a chef at a fine dining restaurant in New York City asks a Mexican dishwasher to find good tortillas. As good as any food movie - 7/10.

🍿 In Civil, a new door-to-door salesman, who is black, is invited inside a house for the first time, to demonstrate his set of kitchen knives, only to discover a confederate flag hanging on the wall.

🍿 A cute one note concept: A man is told by his doctor that he only has 1500 Words left to say, after which he'll die. His shocked reaction at the doctor's office depletes all but the last 50 words...

🍿 "Are you talking Dueling Banjos?..."

In Training Wheels, a socially-inapt woman rents a male escort for 48 hours, in order to practice 'relationships' before a 'real' date.

*Woman Director

🍿 In Dream of aces, an uncharismatic magician shows a simple card trick in a 'secret' gathering and explains how he learnt it. It's all tell and no show. 1/10.

🍿 And, I'm also looking forward to see the new short 'The heart' by new female filmmaker "Malia Ann"...

*Woman Director

🍿

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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fanboys-anonymous · 5 months

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#IFTTT #Blogger

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staysaneathome · 2 years

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Faking Dating For Dummies (And Other Avatars of the Stranger)

The being currently known as Sasha James cards her fingers through her hair as she waits at her table.

It’s an odd habit, one that’s more likely to get her stares rather than let her blend in with the lunchtime crowd, but she can’t quite help it. It feels so good to be able to straighten her hair again, luxuriating in the gentle heat and methodical styling, the weight of the straightener like an old friend even in her new hands. If she’s careful enough with her touch, she can pretend the warmth of her fingers is actually some residual heat left over from this morning.

It’s an indulgence, certainly, like when she’d bought that yellow cake for her “birthday” and eaten every slice while riding the nearest ferris wheel she could find, or slipping several tins of the nice Marks & Spencer shortbread into the break room cupboards at the Magnus Institute alongside the worn packets of rich tea biscuits, hobnobs, and jammy dodgers.

But she’s been stuck in that table for so long, unable to even struggle or scream against those awful, choking threads of the Web, with only the taste of dust and table polish for company. Even now, she can feel the most of her still held there, pinned like an insect on a corkboard under the glare of that hideous Eye.

Nikola may not entirely approve, but she’s not the one risking her skin to monitor the Eye, now is she? Sasha James is.

(Or, well. Was.)

So all in all, the being going by Sasha James feels she’s entitled to some little idiosyncrasies, just for herself.

The Stranger doesn’t let her have too many of those.

But still, she has work to do, and they can’t go attracting the Eye’s attention just yet. So she’s meeting up with someone outside of Madame Tussaud’s and the Trophy Room to be on the safe side.

She won’t know them, but that’s never been an issue for the Stranger. In fact, some would argue it’s the entire point.

Nevertheless, when a slightly-too-pretty person with a smile that couldn’t be more camera copied slides into the seat across from her, Sasha can’t shake the feeling of…recognition that suddenly strikes her.

“Here we are again.” The person says, voice a lower tenor that suggests masculinity.

“Here we are again.” Sasha returns the password blithely. She peers closer. “…Have I seen you perform?”

The way this person startles is lovely, all fluid starts and sharp stops, like a dancer following the line. “Oh. Uh?”

“Petrograd, 1916? Nikola was going through her ballet phase?” She hazards, lighting up when the backing dancer nods hesitantly. “I thought so! You were wonderful, I always thought it was a shame the audience wasn’t fleeing in terror sooner…Ilona?”

“It’s, it’s Tom now, actually.” The very pretty ex-dancer says, rubbing the back of his (?) head bashfully. “Nikola let me choose this one, as a promotion of sorts.”

“It’s about time. You always were too good to just be backup.” Sasha smiles, trying to ignore the way blood is circulating to her cheeks.

That makes him(?) laugh, which has the oddest aftereffect of making her palms go gently clammy.

“Well enough about me.” His (?) eyelashes are long and soft looking as he (?) flutters them at her. “We’re here to talk about you. How is it going at work?”

She groans, burying her face in her hands.

“…Is that a good sound?” Tom asks, hesitantly.

“They’re just—” She waves her hands around. “How can they be so. Weird?? I mean, I know they’re Eye avatars, but come on.”

And then she’s off, ranting about Tim Stoker and his constant jokes about invading people’s privacy and seducing civil servants for their public and personal secrets, about the person whose life she’s living who apparently thought everyone’s private lives and social media were merely another puzzle she was entitled to solve and get the answers to, about Martin Blackwood and how he looks soft and scare-able but he seems to have committed a new crime almost every time she enters the office and he somehow got ashes of the Hive to please the Archivist when she hadn’t, to Sasha’s knowledge, ever been burned??

And that’s not even getting Archivist and his paranoid little breakdowns, constantly muttering about how since Gertrude was murdered, of course it must mean that he’s going to be murdered too, when he’s not even half the strength she used to be?? Like wow, Jonathan, maybe the murder’s not about you, did you ever consider that? Like she might murder him, but that’s besides the point. And he keeps trying to break into these tunnels under the archives, with just his skinny little noodle arms three times this past week alone, and recently she saw him going through the rubbish?? To find Martin’s poems and record himself verbally tear them apart, as if that will hide the blatantly obvious crush the two of them are nursing on each other?? Honestly—

And through it all, Tom is an avid listener, gasping at the appropriate points, sputtering with helpless laughter at others, particularly when she describes Martin’s growing grudge against this policewoman investigating the Archivist for Gertrude Robinson’s murder, seemingly for spending too much time talking to him.

She finds she particularly likes his (?) laugh, a throaty chuckle that grows louder and makes people at the tables around them look over and then quickly look away.

This is the most fun she’s had since she was released from the table for this assignment, and she feels herself relaxing, leaning in closer, able to ignore the lingering itch of being Watched for just a moment.

So of course, it can’t last.

“Sasha.”

She nearly jumps at the sound of her new name, looks up to see the Archivist glaring down at her.

She plasters on a fake smile. “Oh, hi Jon. It’s not already the end of lunch break already, is it?”

“It’s close enough.” He lies, poorly. She can see on the face of his battered watch that she still has half an hour left. His eyes are fixed unsettlingly on her, as if he’s trying to peel the layers of her apart with his gaze alone. She’s not sure whether he’s blinked at any point during this exchange.

Sasha has been alive for a long time, can very faintly recall pale masks and groups singing from her earliest memories, so she doesn’t flinch under the Eye’s gaze. Instead, she begins picking up the wrapper for the sandwich and hula hoops she was eating before Tom got here, starting to stand. “I’m so sorry, I lost track of time. I’ll get back to the Archives now—”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend here? You’ve certainly been talking to him long enough.” The Archivist’s tone is a solid weight, curling around her like chains, like nets, like webs. “Who is he?”

Sasha doesn’t thrash, doesn’t shriek like she so dearly wants to, even as her tongue fights the rest of her to obey the Archivist’s demand, to tell all if it will just make that awful scrutiny stop.

“This is Tom.” She grits out through an increasingly plastic smile. The Archivist might be flush and clumsy with the Eye’s power, but he’s still untrained enough that even if he can make her answer, she can avoid giving any more than the bare minimum. “Tom, this is my boss at the Magnus Institute, Jonathan Sims.”

This clearly doesn’t satisfy the paranoid little weasel of a man, because he opens his mouth again. “And what—”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

Sasha takes a moment to goggle at Tom.

He’s standing up from the table, chest out and trying to meet the Archivist’s gaze head-on, as if his tentative connection with his new skin doesn’t make him the more vulnerable of the two of them.

She feels an odd protectiveness as the Archivist’s head cocks, studying Tom. “Since when?”

“Since we met in the group therapy that Elias recommended I go to after Prentiss.” She lies, praying the Pupil still considers her infiltration diverting enough to support this. “This was before any of us came back from leave, and when Tom and I met we just…hit it off. We’ve only been going out for a few weeks now.”

The Archivist doesn’t look as placated as she’d hoped he’d be, clearly gearing up for another interrogation—

Something warm and plush covers her hand. Part of her wants to compare the sensation to the softest linens, the smoothest mahogany.

Tom is frowning at the Archivist, the very picture of a concerned partner. “Excuse me for saying so, but do you usually get so involved in your subordinates’ love lives? Only, I don’t mean to pry, but Sasha mentioned something about you and a coworker, Martin—”

Jonathan Sims splutters. “Wh—! N—why, what, what are you even talking about?! What about me and Martin?! There’s nothing about, I don’t—no. No. Martin is just—! And it is none, none of your business, anyway! I do not have, have any interest in what my assistants do that doesn’t concern the Archives. None.”

“My mistake.” Tom says, sitting back down. He hasn’t removed his hand from where it’s curled over hers. “Well. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Sims.”

“A shame I can’t say likewise.” The Archivist mutters, turning his attention back to her. “I’ll see you back in the office, Sasha. Soon.”

“Soon.” Sasha replies, watching as he turns and speedwalks away. A few small, green leaves flit down in his wake—was. Was he hiding in the bushes across the road, watching them?

She and Tom seem to deflate at the same moment once the Archivist is out of sight.

“Now do you see what I mean about them being weird?” She asks wryly, gratified when that startles another throaty laugh out of him (?).

“And here I thought you were exaggerating.” Tom grins at her and Sasha grins back, heart pumping hard from residual adrenaline.

But then the expression falters, Tom’s eyebrows drawing together. “Was. Was that okay? The, uh, boyfriend thing. It’s just, he was right there and I didn’t want him doing—doing that thing again, and it was the first—”

“Hey, hey.” She places her hand atop Tom’s this time, “That was excellent thinking on your part, and you acted the role brilliantly. We needed a cover story in case any of the others noticed us meeting up, and a boyfriend is better than just an out-of-work friend or a family member. More reasons to contact each other regularly, if you know what I mean.”

Tom nods, even if he (?) clearly doesn’t. His gaze is fixed on their hands, and Sasha realizes with embarrassment that she’s just been absentmindedly stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

She removes her hand and places it under the table, clearing her throat. “So, um. Is boyfriend, alright with you? Not, not the idea of being, being my romantic partner, but, being, well. He/him.”

“Hm? Oh, oh yes, I like those.” Tom has pulled his hand back towards himself, gently rubbing it with his other hand. “But I’ve never been a, a boyfriend before. And we need to really sell this role, otherwise the Archivist will Know, right? For the good of the assignment.”

Sasha nods tentatively, “The good of the assignment. Right.”

Tom continues. “So who should I ask about it? About how to be a good boyfriend? Would Nikola know?”

Sasha can’t help the face she pulls at that. Nikola’s never going to let her live this down once she hears about it, is she.

“I’d ask Breekon and Hope, myself.”

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siremasterlawrence · 3 years

Text

Breaking A Titan: The Spiderverse

Part 1

Peter Parker watches a horror unleash on his television set as he rushes out of his apartment build. Flying through the open window he swings in to the major hub of New York, New York. Unfortunately, a portal opens up seconds ahead so him engulfing him as he thrust ever forward in to the unknown, and Peter crumbles on his feet he falls to defeat. Their is a strange sort of mystical energy training him yet so hard to believe.

“Is the the spider totem pole all of the we s of the spider-men have fallen like Babylon they have Beene eradicated a strange man sits on Madam Webs thrown. “Who are you sir? Why am I calling you sir when I don’t know you? I feel so weird standing here unmovable feet stuck to the green, I can’t even think at the moment so easy to listen, and he make so much sense.” Peter says out loud shock to hear his own words burst out of his mouth.

“Come on Peter let’s be real your world has fallen apart, you can see it completely eviscerating before your eyes, and you my dear child shall obey my own commands now. You know I am your father like I have always been Peter Parker, accept so you may embrace it fully with no excuses to me, and thus shall become who you are meant to me.” I speak overhead my voice booms up forcing his feet to move on it’s own to my throne.

Part 2

Peter drops to his knees taking my hand in his he lowers his lips on to my hand he is kissing up my arm. “Thank you for erasing that shitty life I use to live with that awful, god terrible and horrible girl Mary Jane Parker.” His eyes grow grimace when the portal opens up out of no way jumping in to it, he smiles freaking out exciting to let loose for the first time, and the portal is closing in he lands on top of Aunt May’s home.

“Woohooo, Peter Parker finally you arrive home it’s about damn time, I have been here waiting forever for you, and I will be able to claim you now. Don’t even worry about your family, friends, MJ, and other person. You have no life, friends, family, lover, work or life in this empty, flaccid and useless world you live in. You are my brother just like any other member of the Spider-man totem, kneel at my feet to fully accept your place again our fathers feet.

Peter grabs his alternate version by a web shanking him up upward as he sky rockets above his head, and he screams hitting a thud on the ground blood oozing from a scar cut on his face. “Who are you? Why are you dress like Spider-man too? What do you want from me?” This younger one word off type of Peter Parker from Earth 2 yells in utter annoyance at the situation he is in. “Are you my puppet or not baby bro my love?” He says.

Part 3

“What do you mean your all Peter Parkers too? How many Peter Parker’s are their in this universe?” The younger Peter Parker question after the two other men pop out of the portal, and they explain their main situation to him blocking any change of him to escape. “My brother Peter here and I are a part of the Spiderverse, so are you my dear brother a lost son to our father the elusive Master Lawrence.” They say to him. One puts a finger on his lips using the other to drop his mask.

Behind a huge aura color plates of blue, red, pink and silver appears behind him like a seal from Doctor Strange thinks the young man in awestruck of what he saw.He stands in a strange position his body is frozen unable to move, because it’s power absorbing everything that empowers Peter himself. “I cannot allow you to hurt me any more you wannabe Peter Parker’s nor will Madam Web, and I promise you will fallby the time I am done with you freaks.” He swears raising his fist he waves at them.

One man knocks him in the head sending him unconscious as he laughs at the mans groans, while the other drags him off to the side to a opening portal appears and they drag him in to the portal the two men have entered in total excitement at their minor victory. “Will you serve me forever my son? Will you kneel at my feet like any loyal subject? I want you to be all mine son that’s it all that matters that you love me and soon your world spins around erodes everything in your world out of existence.

The end.

Superboy

Nightwing/Arsenal

John Constantine/Hawk

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folderolsfollies · 4 years

Text

title: Three Can Keep A Secret (If Two Of Them Are Dead) pairing: Sangyao summary: I just wanted to let my stupid murder twinks have a nice day and plan a fake-date. (discussion of sexual assault - if you want to skip it go from the paragraph ““You’ve been talking to Xiao Xingchen,” to “Nie Huaisang thankfully gets the hint”)

Meng Yao has had enough.

Hasn’t he worked harder than anyone he knows, learnt enough to be the equal of spoiled children who could spend their children at tutoring programs and not second jobs, hadn’t he lied and schemed and shoveled shit so that his father, his biological father, would even deign to look his way? After all that, is he not owed - everything, really - but at the very least something? And if he can’t get his reward, can he not at least get his revenge?

He calls his oldest friend, and lets it ring all the way through as it goes to voicemail. When he calls again. Nie Huaisang picks up on the second ring.

“Sorry Yao-ge, figured if it wasn’t important you’d leave a voicemail and if it was important you’d just call again,” Nie Huaisang explains, with the edge of a laugh trilling his voice, not sorry at all. “So tell me, why have you made me suffer through an actual phone call instead of texting me like a civilized human being who’s joined the 21st century?”

“I want to bring my father down,” Meng Yao says, and then hastily snaps his mouth shut. There’s something about Nie Huaisang which makes him speak too hastily, allow too much of his real emotions, real anger out. The wild shriek of laughter Nie Huaisang is emitting right now isn’t helping with that.

“Hell yeah, love a scheme,” says Nie Huaisang comfortably, and from the muffled thud it sounds like he’s settling in.

“Nie Huaisang, are you putting your feet on the table?” Meng Yao says. Meng Yao is not a mom friend. Lan Xichen is a mom friend. Meng Yao is cool. And, if he is continuing to indulge in wild hypotheticals, Nie Huasiang is a jock.

“So mean to your rescuer, Yao-ge! Do you want my help or not?” Nie Huaisang says.

“I could ask Xichen instead,” says Meng Yao, annoyed, and winces. He’s definitely off his game.

“Lan Xichen will tell you to hug it out,” Nie Huaisang points out, “that’s why you didn’t call him, you called me: your meanest friend. Now tell didi what happened.”

Meng Yao opens his mouth. Then he closes it. Nie Huaisang is the last person on the planet that would judge him for familial related hysterics. But he’s not quite at the point where he can untangle the web of hatred and obligation and trampled love that he feels whenever his father is around and present it for public consumption. He’s not even at the point where he thinks he can try. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he says, and if his voice is low, at least it doesn’t shake.

“Sure, whatever. I’m assuming that you already have a plan in place?” Nie Huaisang instantly says, cheerily.

“You’re just agreeing to this?” Meng Yao says, shaking his head. “People will take advantage of that, you know,” he says, and the words come out with the solicitous edge that he always feels compelled to adopt with Nie Huaisang. There’s a fifty-fifty chance that Nie Huaisang will say, “But it’s not people, it’s you”, and then Meng Yao will say --

“I mean maybe I’d say something if it were Zixuan you were targeting, maybe, but Jin Guangshan? You don’t need to sell me on a revenge plan against him, Yao-ge,” Nie Huaisang says breezily, like it’s that easy. And maybe to him, it is. “Also I’m agreeing to hear you out, not to get involved in anything, by the way, you’ll need to bribe me for that.”

“I already bribe you,” Meng Yao points out, and smiles reflexively, as if it could soften the words over the phone.

“That’s great, then! You already know what works on me!” Nie Huaisang says.

Meng Yao sighs, but he’s smiling, and it's a real one this time. “He’s having a charity gala in a few weeks, and I’m going to be there, as an organizer. I’m allowed a plus one.” He knows this for certain, because he wrote the invitation code.

“Yao-ge, are you going to bring someone shocking?” Nie Huaisang says, all conspiratorial glee and instant understanding.

“Yes,” says Meng Yao, swallowing, trying not to think about what led him here after he worked so hard to gain his father’s favor, or about the way Nie Huaisang’s voice dipped low on his name.

“So you want someone male, to activate his old-man homophobia, and frivolous enough that he can’t even say this is some sort of business strategy. I’ve got a couple of candidates,” Nie Huaisang muses, and Meng Yao can hear his smile through the phone. “How about, oh, Wei Wuxian? He’s always my personal choice when I need a chaos agent.”

“Lan Wangji would kill me,” Meng Yao replies automatically. If he halted that slow-moving daytime soap opera any more, he thinks Lan Wangji would just be the first in a very long line. He briefly mulls over the merits of seducing Wei Wuxian just to stop having to look at their insufferable pining gazes. “Huaisang…”

“Well, how about Xiao Xingchen, then? He’d be nice enough to agree, he’d probably think he was taking a principled stand against bigotry,” Nie Huaisang says, in his best butter-won’t-melt voice.

Here’s the thing. Meng Yao knows exactly what Nie Huaisang is doing right now. And still he finds himself saying “Huaisang… I don’t want Xiao Xingchen,” because then Nie Huaisang will laugh and say -

“Oh, you want me, gege? Now what will I get for that?”

A small part of Meng Yao, still, after everything he knows about Nie Huaisang, wants to say “Anything.” And in truth, there is little that he would not give to Nie Huaisang. Meng Yao sometimes feels like it’s Nie Huaisang’s knowledge of this fact that is the only reason that Meng Yao still gets to set the terms.

“First of all: exposure.” Meng Yao says crisply, relaxing into details. “It will be well attended. Madame Yu will be there, and you can get an introduction that doesn’t need to go through her children.”

“And?” Nie Huaisang says.

“It’s minimal work. We go in, get photographed, and get out. We really just need to be seen for this to work.” Meng Yao lists off.

“And?” Nie Huaisang says, and he’s definitely fucking with Meng Yao now, but what he doesn’t know is that Meng Yao also has an ace up his sleeve.

Meng Yao pauses for full dramatic effect and then pulls out his trump card. “And it’s a masquerade.”

“Meng Yao,” whoops Nie Huaisang, delighted as a child, “why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I led with the opportunity to inflict social repercussions on a known missing stair in the community,” Meng Yao says virtuously, “at great cost to my own career in the company.”

“You’ve been talking to Xiao Xingchen,” Nie Huaisang snorts, and maybe that easy understanding that sometimes bodies need to get buried is why Meng Yao only wants one person on his arm for this. “If you really wanted to expose him properly, there has got to be a woman willing to go on record against him.”

Meng Yao feels three bright stabs of pain in his palm, and realizes that he’s clenched his fist hard enough for the nails to bite in. He relaxes every individual finger. “That won’t work,” he says, calmly. Always calmly. “He’ll get a slap in the wrist and those women’s lives will be ruined for nothing.” And so will his, he thinks.

Nie Huaisang thankfully gets the hint and changes the subject. “Whereas this way, you get a cozy, sympathetic interview in GLAD magazine about how some people can’t keep up with the times, and some exposure that you can use with more liberal companies. Bold move, A-Yao!”

Meng Yao really can’t help himself. “I think Lan Wangji would agree.” Lan Xichen won’t stick his neck out for Meng Yao against the Jins, but Lan Wangji’s sense of virtue can be played like a fiddle. And as Lan Wangji goes, so goes the nation, apparently. Meng Yao thinks he can play this just fine.

Nie Huaisang is laughing approvingly. “You’re my favorite, Yao-ge,” he says, because, Meng Yao reminds himself, he’s a flighty child who says that to anyone who made him happy for more than five seconds, and Meng Yao is just stupid enough to still want it.

“So I’m going for provocative but in a way that appeals to subscribers to the New Yorker,” Nie Huaisang muses. “I’m very good at being a good-for-nothing piece of arm candy, you called the right guy.”

“That’s not true, Nie Huaisang, you know that,” Meng Yao says, because Nie Huaisang’s inexplicable urge to constantly downplay his own intelligence is one of the most baffling things about him.

Nie Huaisang just hums and doesn’t answer. “Well, I’m in, if I have the time,” and then he adds, because he’s still Nie Huaisang, “and maybe you’ll owe me a favor!”

Meng Yao lets himself think for a beat about Nie Huaisang owing him that sort of favor - flushed cheeks, tangled hair - and then sighs mildly. “I suppose.”

“I’m going to take advantage of that,” Nie Huaisang says, and the phone clicks off.

#the untamed #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #sangyao #oh I should have a fic tag #my fic

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littlelemonsqueezy · 4 years

Text

A Reflection of Love

Summary: Wearied after finally making it off the train, Jesse and Lake spend the sunset together before heading back home. They decide to enjoy a couple of laughs, jokes, and each other's company for the rest of the day, as well as their first time cuddling! (This is a fluffy, sweet, Jesslake, accidental cuddles one-shot! I hope you enjoy reading, I had fun writing this! Here is the AO3 link! & Please feel free to share any feedback if you like & reblogs/comments are much appreciated, thank you!) Notes: this is a short, sweet, drabble i made inspired after enjoying my dear friend's blog & i wished to make jesslake fluff, as a surprise gift for the loveliest queen of jesslake, @jessmt, who i thank very much for helping me feel determined to finally start sharing my works!! i hope you enjoy, cinny & thank you for making infinity train even sweeter!! ♡

Finally, after achieving the trials of journeying off the train, Lake's dream came true, and so did Jesse's. Free to live life on her own terms, she could do as she please. With her best friend at her side, hope for the future filled up her heart, as she beamed a grin back to Nate. He was cheerful to see his brother's face safe and sound again. Seeing Jesse’s happiness besides Lake, he decided they could use the time to relax and enjoy the sunset after the endeavors they went through. He piped up while waving, "Meet us back home for some tea tonight, alright? I'll come back to check on you guys later!" With Nate's warm welcome, Jesse and Lake waved back. Their eyes met the orange, serene skies, which graced the tops of the wondrous trees. Although they were gazing towards the sky, both Jesse and Lake felt a new definition of beauty and home within each other. Spinning around and strolling back towards the lakefront, Lake peered over the gorgeous body of water. She gently and slowly allowed herself to rest her eyes on the still, tranquil water; a reflection she no longer feared softly smiled back at her. She began tearing up with joy. A wave of concern came over Jesse, seeing the water well up in her eyes.

Hoping to know why Lake started to cry, he stared into her eyes and pleaded, "Lake, please tell me what's wrong?" "Jesse..." She hesitated for a moment, then sighed, and placed her arms around herself. "The flecs were on my tail forever. I'm finally looking at myself, here with you! I just, I guess... Thanks... Thank you for not giving up on me." A small blush glazed over Lake's cheeks. Being intimate and vulnerable was something she was still getting to know better, yet knew without a doubt, Jesse would keep her safe. A bit flustered, Jesse's cheeks filled with warmth, soft from Lake's thank you. Those two words could not be more special coming from anyone’s lips, but hers. "No worries, Lake!" He looked at the sunbeams and droplets teeming off the grass for a moment before meeting her lovely eyes again. His eyes crinkled at the corners. He spouted, "Home can be our forever now, you know you're always welcome, and I'm happy you're here with me!" Lake, with a sparkle in her eyes, was unsure of how to reply, though she wanted to assure Jesse and herself she was still as confident as ever.

She chuckled then looked into Jesse's eyes, "Of course, you would say that, Casanova!" Jesse giggled then winked, "Oh my, mademoiselle! Is that ridicule I hear? I must say, that's quite the offer, love!" Lake's heart skipped a beat at the sound of being Jesse’s sweetheart. Joking back, she snorted, "Yes, my good sir! I shall enjoy thine blessings of thy twilight!" Charmed, Jesse asked Lake, "Now, madam, would you like a hand?" He extended his palm out to her, beaming with bliss. Lake held onto him, secretly content with his fingers intertwined with hers without the worry of having to let go this time. Before Lake could come up with a witty remark, she tilted her head to the side, and the glare of the sunset off Lake's hair blinded Jesse momentarily. The sunshine flashed brilliantly into his face and he tripped over her foot. Still hand-in-hand, an embarrassed Jesse unable to glance at Lake exclaimed, "Help, I've fallen for you and I can't get up!" Lake looked down at Jesse, raised her eyebrow, and joked, “You fell over me! May I help you with that then?"

As Lake started trying to lift Jesse, to her surprise, Jesse, with all his strength, hugged Lake so she would fall into his arms. A bit alarmed, and truly not used to this feeling, she could not help but blush profusely, as Jesse's warmth enveloped her. Her delight spoke louder than anything. There was nothing more Jesse could have asked for. Despite the weight of Lake on him, all he wished was for Lake to be safe with him. His promise came true before his eyes, as they lay in the coziness of the sunset, entwined with one another. Lake, gifting herself the joy of being her own person with Jesse, felt how physical intimacy can be closeness without pain. What she had adored, yet feared, was now their comfort to share. In the moment, the pulse of Jesse's heartbeat and the warmth of his arms around hers soothed her. Lake found that the word that illuminated their moment, love, was what she now only reflected. Interlaced with one another, they ended up napping until the stars started to twinkle with a blanket Nate draped around them alongside a tea set, a dream come true for them both.

End Notes: Thank you kindly for reading, it is so special to me that you did! Here is a teeny-tiny Lake doodle, as a gift for you, Cinny & as a thank you for anyone who reads & I’d like to thank Gummi (@retosart) for inspiring me too! ♡ (Please view the doodle on a PC web browser for best quality!)

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journalofimprobablethings · 4 years

Text

how this grace thing works

Lucretia is sobbing in her sleep.

Taako tells himself he doesn’t care, tells himself she deserves whatever pain she is feeling, tells himself that he’s only waking her up so that he can get some sleep himself. He tells himself that it doesn’t hurt to hear her cry.

That’s what he tells himself.

He doesn’t know why he let Magnus talk him into this visit in the first place, this obvious, ham-fisted attempt at reconciliation between them. Maybe it’s because he knew Magnus would never stop pestering, or maybe it’s just that he didn’t want to let the guy down. He tries so hard, Magnus does, to see the best in everyone, to help. His stubbornness and his sincerity make him a difficult person to turn down, even for Taako.

Whatever the reason, he is here in Magnus’s house, awkwardly sharing a room with Lucretia after months of carefully avoiding being in the same space with her for more than a minute at a time. Dinner was an exercise in endurance and small talk, then Magnus oh-sorry-there's-only-one-spare-room-and-the-dogs-hog-all-the-couches Burnsides bade them good night as though he wasn't sending two people who have barely spoken a word to each other all year off to share a bedroom. They didn’t speak at all as they got ready for bed, except for a polite inquiry from Lucretia about turning out the light.

It’s going about as well as Taako expected it to go.

And now he’s lying on his bed, staring at a ceiling that Magnus has decorated with tiny glow-in-the-dark stars, and listening to Lucretia cry quietly, desperately, into her pillow. It's only a few minutes before he throws off his covers, crosses the room to her bed.

“Hey, Lucretia,” he says as he kneels next to her. She is curled into a ball, her hands tucked in close to her chest, and she doesn’t respond at all to his voice.

“Creesh. Keesha.”

He shakes her shoulder, not bothering to be gentle. “Hey, Madam Director, wake up.”

She comes to with a gasp, her hands clutching his wrists, just for a second, before she realizes where she is and lets go.

“Oh. Taako. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“I’d have to have been asleep in the first place for you to wake me. Never got that far.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Well.”

That should be the end of it. He should go back to his bed, try to get some sleep. He doesn’t care what she was dreaming about, what made her cry like that.

But her breath is still coming in short, sharp gasps, and she’s wrapped her arms tight around herself as though she’ll fly apart if she lets go.

Taako knows that feeling—he’s had it himself often enough.

So instead, he sighs and asks,

“Which cycle?”

She doesn’t look at him, just closes her eyes and shakes her head.

“Taako, we don’t have to talk about this, you can go back to sleep—”

“Not if I have to wake you up again when you fall right back into it. Which cycle? Sixty-five?” It’s the most obvious guess; he’s sure her year alone must haunt her, especially since she’s lived a different, self-inflicted version of that solitude for the last ten years.

She shakes her head, slowly. “No. Fifty-eight.”

Oh. Shit.

The Ferans.

It had been a particularly bad cycle, three of them captured only two months into the year. The Ferans were one of the more advanced cultures they’d run into over the cycles, but their magic was dark and twisted—they scavenged abilities and skills by taking pieces out of the people they captured to use as spell components. They’d taken Taako’s eyes, fascinated by elven dark-vision. They’d ripped Magnus’s heart out of his chest.

And they’d taken Lucretia’s hands.

Taako had nightmares for months afterwards about that day, being strapped to a table, unable to see, unable to move, forced to listen helplessly as Lucretia pleaded with their captors to take anything, anything but that—

He sighs.

“Let me see your hands.”

“Taako, you don’t have to—”

“Give me your damn hands, Lucretia.”

She holds out her hands to him—they’re shaking, although she tries her best to hide it. Taako takes them in his, and he is struck at once by how they have changed. Her hands feel—delicate, in a way that they never used to before. Her skin is softer, a little looser, webs of fine lines spread over knuckles just a little more prominent than they used to be.

And it hits him, suddenly, how much she has aged.

Lucretia is—not old, not frail. But she is not twenty anymore. After a century suspended in time, she is moving through her life at that stupidly fast pace that humans have. Even if she lives to be very old, she only has a few decades left.

It makes him angry, irrationally so.

He is still furious with her for what she did, all she took from him. He’s not ready to forgive her, not even close, and he hates this reminder that his forgiveness has a deadline.

This would all be easier, he thinks, if he loved her less.

He squeezes her hands, perhaps less gently than he would have twelve years ago. “You feel that? Your hands are right here. My eyes are back in my head, and I can see your stupid wrinkled face. And those people are long gone.”

They had gotten the Light that cycle—but after seeing what the Ferans had done to Taako and Magnus and Lucy, Barry and Lup left one of Taako’s fake Lights in the lab they rescued Taako from. The first column of the Hunger came down right on top of it, as Lup watched from the deck of the Starblaster with hard eyes.

Lucretia takes a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes are closed, her brow furrowed, and she grips his hands tight enough to hurt.

“That’s it,” he says. “Hold on as tight as you need to.”

They stay like that for a long time, holding hands in the dark, the silence broken only by Lucretia’s hitched breathing. Taako catches himself rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, something he’s done with Lup when she has nightmares, a small, continuous sensation to help anchor her back in her body.

Slowly, Lucretia’s breathing returns to normal, and her grip on his hands loosens.

“Better?”

Lucretia nods. She finally opens her eyes and looks at him, really looks at him, and for once he meets her gaze with no challenge or anger at all.

What an odd pair they are, Taako thinks. Both broken and clumsily repaired in so many different ways. Both so good at hurting each other, whether they mean to or not.

Taako gives Lucretia’s hands a final squeeze and lets go. But he doesn’t go back to his bed, yet. Instead he settles himself against the side of the bed facing away from Lucretia, leaning his back against the mattress. It’s another thing he’s done for Lup, and she for him, on hard nights—staying close for a little while, a reminder that they’re not alone.

Lucretia takes a breath, as though she’s about to say something—to ask him what he’s doing, maybe. But she stops, and they sit, she on the bed and he on the floor, listening to the night silence, and Magnus’s distant snoring.

“Taako, can I say something?” Lucretia says finally.

“Sure.”

“It might make you angry.”

He suppresses a laugh. Everything she says makes him angry, recently.

“Tonight, you get a pass,” he says.

He hears her take a deep breath behind him, steeling herself for whatever she’s about to say. He can just picture what she must look like right now, the way she bites her lip when she’s nervous, worries her cuticles with her fingers.

They are different people than they were, ten years ago, but in some ways he still knows her so, so well.

Lucretia is silent for so long that he thinks that maybe she lost her nerve. But finally, she speaks.

“I miss you.”

Taako’s not sure what he was expecting—more apologies, maybe, because that seems to be all she has to say to him now. But whatever he might have been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“I know I don’t have any right to miss you, after what I did,” she says. “And I don’t…I’m not asking anything of you. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. But I just…I miss you. I’ve missed you all so much.”

Taako’s mind is full, suddenly, of images of the Lucretia he used to know—arguing with her over the papers she’d left strewn across the table just before dinner, shooing her out of the kitchen when she tried to write down his recipes, teaching her how to properly make tea. The way her whole face changed when she smiled.

They are different people than they were, ten years ago.

Too much has happened, too much has been lost, for them to go back to what they were before.

But maybe. Someday.

“You know what, Luce? Since we’re being honest?” Taako pauses, takes a deep breath. “I miss you, too.”

They don’t say anything else, after that.

What else is there to say?

Eventually, Taako returns to his bed, and Lucretia curls back up under her covers, but no longer in that tight, protective ball she’d pulled herself into before.

“Taako?” she says, after a moment’s silence.

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

Taako lies back on his bed, looking up at Magnus’s little stars.

It hasn’t changed anything, their exchange tonight. It’s not forgiveness. Not yet.

But maybe it’s a start.

“You’re welcome,” Taako says.

#taz balance #taz lucretia #taako #taz #taz fanfic #madam director #this is a long one folks #this week has been stressful and this was how i coped #been thinking about these two a lot lately #long post #scribblings #body horror cw #it's a super brief mention of stolen century violence but just to be safe

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deans-mind-palace · 4 years

Text

Suspirium (Pt.8)

Pairing: Prof!Sam x Reader

Summary: You’re in your last year of your Classics and Mordern Languages studies and you’re majoring in Latin and English. Then you get assigned to a different Latin teacher. And damn, he loves his subject. Too bad that he’s also hot. What is just a childish crush soon develops into something way more complicated.

Word Count: 1,202

Warnings: Ouch...

Author’s Note: I’m terribly sorry for the delay of this chap but I’ve had (and still have) a busy week. I’ll try to make it up as soon as I have the time. Enjoy reading. If you like this please do not forget to give it some love. <3

Like always, my tag lists for Sam (thereby also for this story) are OPEN

Or you catch up here: Suspirium - Masterlist

Sam and you spent a wonderful evening together, during which he constantly preppered you with kisses. Yet you went no further than kissing. Even though you were living in Sam's house in your own little world at that moment, you knew that the harsh reality, the college, was out there to destroy your happiness. None of you wanted to face this reality and think about how to go on. Both of you knew that on Tuesday everything would be different between you when you spoke again in the lecture hall. You had crossed a line and there was no going back for you.

Even if it was only a short weekend flirtation between you, it had changed everything. You had broken the law at that moment when you kissed. He could lose his job and you could be kicked out of college just before you graduated. When you confessed your troubles to Sam, he had only kissed you on the top of your head and pulled you towards him. The next words he had whispered deep into your ear, and you got goose bumps thinking about it.

"Praevalent inlicita. What is forbidden has its own special appeal." You knew the quote from Tacitus, but in that moment it took on a whole new meaning. You didn't dare to ask if this was nothing more than a special thrill for him. It was too early for these questions. Also the question what this afternoon had made you become hung unspoken between you in the air.

Sam drove you home in the evening because you had an important lecture the next morning. But at that moment you cursed your decision to choose the earlier lectures to keep your afternoons free. The next morning you did not have a lecture with Sam, because Sam did not give any classes on the Mondays. When you asked him, he had explained that he usually used those days for running or meeting his brother for a beer. Before you could ask further, he had hurriedly changed the subject. That seemed strange to you, but you didn't want to put him in a difficult situation, so you didn't ask any further questions.

Your Monday was packed with two lectures that dragged on endlessly, and afterwards you had to do some shopping before getting ready for work. After Brooks spontaneously invited you to lunch, you skipped shopping. Your best friend asked you what you were spending your days with lately, as he hardly saw you anymore and you slid restlessly around on your chair because you hated having to lie to your best friend. A lot had happened in the last few days. You and Sam had become close and Adam had texted you. But you didn't tell Brooks about all this, instead you got entangled in a web of lies that became more and more opaque each time.

Sam and you had texted in the morning but he had been curt and you had to go to your lecture. Lunch with Brooks gave you no opportunity to ask if Sam was all right. Had the doubt struck him overnight? You had had a rather late lunch, with Brooks telling you that Maddie seemed to have a new boyfriend for some time. You hadn't noticed and a guilty conscience was building up inside you. You had talked for a long time, so you went straight to work after lunch, not knowing yet what a nasty surprise would await you there.

You had just tied your black bow tie, which was obligatory for all waiters, both men and women. Afterwards you buttoned the last buttons of your shirt at the sleeves. With a last look in the mirror you plucked your bow tie again and tried to give yourself a smile. Even if you suppressed the thing with Adam for the moment, it followed you everywhere, almost as if it were hanging on your heels like your shadow. Just because you didn't turn around didn't mean it wasn't there.

The evening went quietly. The guests were in a good mood. They laughed cautiously behind cloth napkins and smiled over wine glasses. The sounds of the piano filled the air and a pleasant atmosphere prevailed. Even your smile seemed more genuine with each meal and you served the guests their expensive meals in a lively manner.

You were just bringing a stack of empty plates back to the kitchen when Francois approached you. "I have just led the next guests to their seats. Could you please take the drinks? They are at table five. Charming young couple. She looks wonderful. And he is very chic in his black suit." You smiled at Francois. He always enjoyed young love. "Of course." After all, you've had a lot to make up for since the last time. Cheerfully you reached for a bottle of water so expensive you'd think you were drinking liquid gold for the price. But as soon as you stepped out the door and turned around to Table 5, the bottle nearly fell out of your hand. You swallowed and tried to pull yourself together, but you knew you weren't wrong. You would recognize this brown mop of hair anywhere. For a moment you thought about going back to the kitchen and hand in your immediate resignation so that you could sneak out the back door to escape the pain. But you needed the money and the job was anything but badly paid.

So you took a deep breath, then you walked up to the table as confidently as you could. "Good afternoon, Madam. Sir. Would you like some water." You didn't dare to look in the man's direction. But the woman gave you a warm and honest smile that soothed you a bit. Francois had been right. She was a dark-skinned beauty with glossy black hair, styled to an extravagant hairstyle. Her brown eyes were almond-shaped and exuded an irrepressible warmth, giving her a fawn-y charm. She had a small, slender nose and a full mouth. Her face was heart-shaped and her cheekbones protruded prominently. She embodied everything a girl could wish for. Her voice also sounded pleasantly melodic and soft and her eyes glittered mischievously. "Yes, please," she replied to your question. You nodded humbly and turned the glasses over. You almost managed to serve them without even looking at the man, but at the last moment your gaze wandered over his face. His eyes reflected the shock you felt at his sight.

"Sam? Sam! Are you all right?" At once the hazel eyes tore themselves away from your face and wandered to the person opposite. "Hm?" asked Sam. "You're looking a little pale all of a sudden. Are you all right?" Sam nodded nervously. "Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." At that moment you had filled the glasses and rushed back to the kitchen as if your life depended on it. All the while you felt his eyes burning into your back. At the same time, tears were burning in your eyes.

Wanna get tagged for recent updates on this story? Head to my bio and add yourself to my Sam taglist or drop an ask in.

Sam Tags: @ashthefirefox @rintheemolion @fortheentries @vexhye @traceyaudette @zeppette @thewintersoldierswife @outofnowhere82 @mimzy1994 @myopiamystical

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croonerboy1965 · 4 years

Text

As Many Forms of Love: Chapter 2- Thief of Hearts

By librarian-von-sassypants and croonerboy1965

Eddie didn’t detest formal dances exactly. He knew there wee good reasons for this one. It solidified his social standing, gave him less of an air of “crazy loner with the damaged son” which many people wanted to attribute to him. He just never saw the point of them otherwise. Crowding one hundred of your closest neighbors into a too-small room, making them dance and fraternize and eat food that everyone secretly thought was sub-par, where everyone talked about everyone else behind their backs, and smiled prettily to their faces.

Eddie had the good fortune of being a conventionally attractive man, and wealthy. He never lacked for conversation or dance partners, and he played the part obligingly, but if he had his way, he’d spend the evening with a book and a glass of brandy, or perhaps reading Christopher bedtime stories.

He’d made one ally early on. Lady Lena Bosko. Utterly beautiful, charming, and, as far as Eddie could tell, utterly uninterested in the company of men, at least in a romantic sense. She was the only female in the room, it seemed, who was not trying to foist hints of marriage upon him, and thus had become a wonderful companion with whom he could simply stand back and observe the party.

“Lady Fortense is absolutely sleeping with the Earl of Viconze,” she whispered to him behind her fan.

He was slightly enamoured with the way her vibrant red hair caught the candlelight around them and reflected it back like fire.

“She would never admit to it, of course, and neither would he, but you can bet her husband knows.”, she said.

Lena was abreast of all the latest gossip, and the circle she chose to share her vast knowledge with was small indeed.

“Poor Viconze,” Eddie remarked as he took another sip of his wine. “She’ll eat him alive.”

Lena smirked.

“She most certainly will.”, she said, biting into the ripe berry she pulled from the lip of Eddie’s glass.

Eddie was well aware that most people took their lingering on the edges of the room together to be a declaration of intent to marry, or at least of amorous feelings. In a way he took it for granted. He needed to find a wife. He knew, and Lena would make a spectacular one.

“So what about you?”, he asked. “Any inclination to nab yourself a husband? I am single, you know.”, Eddie said, as he took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers gently.

Lena giggled and pulled her hand away, feigning shyness as she fanned herself, turning away.

“Well, you are charming, sir. And I can definitely see the benefit of a mutual bond.”, she said.

“Sadly, I have no real interest in the carnal pleasures of the company of men...You on the other hand,” She gave him a knowing look.

Eddie, looked down at his feet, and flushed hot in the face.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”, he said with mock indignation. Then he broke into a smile and they both laughed out loud.

“I guess we’re both just a couple of mavericks.” she said, taking his hand again and giving it a squeeze.

“Still-- it’s nice to have a friend in all this.”, Eddie motioned to the crowded ballroom.

It had been a month since he’d gotten settled into his country estate, made the tour of the surrounding homes, and introduced himself and Christopher the neighbors. Lena was by far his favorite of the lot, and he had visited her estate, where she lived with her aging father.

To their left, a hush seemed to ripple over the crowd, as a new guest arrived.

“Lady Arielle Valens, and Escort”, the announcer said. Lena commented without looking over.

“Everyone’s been up in arms about who she will invite to her ball later this year. It’s supposed to be one of the most exclusive and sought after invitations of the season.” She said to Eddie as she took a long swig from his wine.

A voluptuous woman entered the room, with a dashing, young, strawberry blonde man on her arm. Her face was set in a smile that seemed chiseled from stone, not quite real, not quite false. She wasn’t remarkable looking by any stretch of the imagination.

“There’s something… mysterious about her---intriguing.”, said Eddie. He had only met her once when he’d introduced himself initially, but on second look, was caught up in her strange web. Something about the way her blue eyes latched on and didn’t let go. Or how there was a secret second smile hidden beneath the veneer, one blossomed like the sun, when she’d sat in her drawing room with Christopher, who had regaled her with tales of growing up in London. That boy could charm the pants off of a gargoyle if given the chance, and Lady Arielle could not help but let her guard down, in spite of herself.

She and her companion were making the rounds of the room, and when they drew near to Eddie and Lena, she looked over, and winked conspiratorially.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin.

“A friend of yours?” Eddie asked.

Lena, he noted with some surprise, flushed so red she was nearly purple, and buried her face in her fan with a small grin she couldn’t seem to pry off her face.

“We have...met.”, she said.

“Well, we will absolutely be discussing that, later.”, Eddie said.

Eddie let his gaze linger over Arielle’s companion. She was, to everyone’s widespread knowledge, quite single, but managed to show up to parties with ridiculously attractive men on her arm, and this new one was no exception. Tall, thin, with strawberry blond curls, cheekbones that could cut glass, and a smile that whispered of both sex and confidence with each glance. There was something vaguely familiar about him, Eddie thought, though he couldn’t quite place it.

“Her new one is rather attractive,” Lena commented as the two of them watched the newcomers make a slow circle of the ballroom. Every single eye in the room was doing the same, though most everyone pretended to be busy doing anything else.

“Hmm?” Eddie was distracted.

“Lady Arielle’s new companion. I haven’t seen him before.” Lena said. There was jealousy in her eyes, Eddie was sure of it, but she didn’t take well to teasing, so he held his tongue.

Once they had made a full circuit of the ballroom, Lady Arielle and her companion ended up in proximity to Lena and Eddie, as several of the guests slowly gravitated into their orbit.

“Lord Diaz, Lady Bosko, delighted to see you again,” Lady Arielle made a small curtsy, and nod of her head. “May I introduce my friend, Sir Evan, Lord of Buckley Manor.”

Eddie had never heard of Buckley manor, and he’d studied the surrounding area extensively during his decision to move. Still, no one would ever call her out on it, definitely not Eddie, so he stayed comfortable in the knowledge.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Eddie sticks out his hand for the man to shake. Lord Buckley takes his hand gingerly, and even through the gloves, Eddie can feel the heat radiating off him. The man doesn’t do that usual firmer than necessary handshake, as men so often do with Eddie, in an attempt to assert dominance.

“This is Miss Lena Bosko,” Eddie introduced them, as Buckley took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the air just above it.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Buckley said, and the smile he gave her was absolutely breathtaking. ‘Too bad he’s barking up the wrong tree.’, Lena thought to herself.

“You both must come to my house for tea next week,” Lady Arielle smiled, though it was a mere whisper of her full force. “Do, bring Christopher!”

“Christopher?” Buckley asked the question, and then looked like he wished he could stuff the words back inside himself. Lady Arielle either didn’t notice or chose not to.

“Lord Eddie’s son!”, she said brightly, a little bit of sunshine leaked out when she talked about Chris. “Absolutely the most charming human I’ve ever come across. Buck is staying with us for a few weeks... He loves kids, don’t you Buck?”, she said.

So it was Buck now. Eddie made a note in his mental ledger.

“Indeed!” Buck says with a smile, but doesn’t quite meet Eddie’s eyes.

Just then, a waltz began to play.

“Shall we have a dance?”, Lena said, in an attempt to break the tension.

“Of course.”, Eddie said.

“Shall we?”, said Buck, as he took Lady Valens by the arm and led her to the floor.

Arielle followed and soon they were swallowed up by the whirling flashes of color from a room full of glorious gowns.

Lena looked at Eddie as he led her round, her brow furrowed.

“Eddie, what is it?”, she asked.

“Nothing.”, he said as he guided her, a bit stiffly, in any direction that might put some distance between them and the Lady Valens.

“Eddie.”, Lena pressed. He was looking off in Buck and Arielle’s direction.

“How well do you know, the Lady Valens?”, he asked.

Lena cleared her throat, and said, “Fairly well.”

“How well?”, Eddie insisted.

“Well. Very well.”, she retorted, indicating she meant to add no more.

“Why?”, she asked.

“It’s just--her companion--”, but he was cut off as the pair of them bumped into he and Lena, throwing them ever so slightly off their rhythm.

“I beg your pardon, sir.”, Buck said, throwing Eddie a mischievous grin.

“Mind your steps!”, Eddie spat through a tight smile. As he came round to meet him on the next turn, Eddie almost caught his foot on the hem of Arielle’s gown, his eyes locked on Buck’s.

“Mind yours!”, Buck said, in mock indignation.

“Wha--?!”, Eddie scoffed.

“Buck! Mind your manners!”, Arielle said.

“Apologies Miss.”, Buck said, eyeing her buxom breasts. He thought perhaps he brushed them inadvertently.

“Not me, you nit!”, she said.

They had stopped in mid-round.

Buck looked up, face now red, and met Eddie’s gaze yet again. Try as he might, he could not speak. He felt embarrassed, yet --there was something else.

Lena turned away from Eddie, and tapped Arielle, on the shoulder.

“Might I cut in?”, she said. Arielle’s face became sunny, and she said, “But of course, Madame.”

Arielle met her palm in Lena’s and Lena placed her other hand around Arielle’s waist.

“Men.”, Lena sighed.

As they began their first turn on the floor, Arielle pushed her backside into Evan’s and he came immediately up against Eddie. Not knowing what else to do, he took Eddie in hand and began leading him in a waltz. The closeness, their eyes locked together, the slightest scent of sweet anise on Buck’s breath. His lips were crimson, almost blood red against his pale skin. Buck was slightly taller but his taught frame felt sinewy in Eddie’s arms. This made Eddie harden in his nethers, in spite of his better judgement.

Buck felt Eddie pressing against him, and his own rig twitched with desire.

He recalled the same sensation a few weeks ago, on the road. Buck could not believe he did not realize it sooner. This man. Sure, he is more groomed, more cultivated, more polished. But it is the same man. The one he almost robbed. The one he inadvertently molested.

He can see the exact second Eddie sees it on his face. Eddie can suddenly see through him. The brigand from the road. Nearly unrecognizable in a fashionable emerald waistcoat and cravat, but Eddie would recognize those eyes anywhere. Those stunning blue eyes.

It hits them both like an avalanche.

“YOU!?”, they said in unison. They separated, suddenly aware they had been pressed together a bit longer than either one intended. Then covered themselves as each one spied the other’s reaction to said closeness. They quickly covered themselves with their hands in as polite a clasp as they could manage. Evan could not believe this was the same man. He was so...regal. So...handsome. Not at all like the disheveled traveler he’s nearly robbed a fortnight ago.

“I believe it might be time for you to call it an evening, Lord Buckley.” he said, mocking the title.

“Indeed.”, Buck said, turning to go without another word. As he left, he slid past Kingston, who glared at him, and then looked worriedly at Eddie.

Eddie put up a hand, and then put it quickly back down again, to cover himself. “It’s alright, Kingston, it’s been taken care of.”, he said.

“What have you done?”, Arielle said, looking accusingly at Eddie. “Buck! Wait!” she called after him, but he was gone. Lena shot him a look.

“What?”, Eddie said.

“Miss Valens…” Eddie said. “My deepest apologies, I shall have Kingston call you a carriage, and escort you home.”

“I think you’ve done quite enough.”, Lena said. “I shall escort Lady Valens home.”

Lady Valens, gave her a sheepish look. “How kind.”, she said. And they paraded past Kingston, who looked quite confused.

==============================================================================

Buck walked briskly toward the gate, and as he opened it, he was met by the two henchman he was in league with. He stopped, hands raised.

“Hi fellas.”, he said.

“Hello to you.”, the larger of the two said, his gun drawn on Buck.

“Griff…”, he said, “We are calling this one off.”

“Cawlin’ it off??!!”, Griff said. “I don’t fink so.”, he stepped forward and Buck stepped back.

“I s’pose you were finking of leaving me and Shep out in the cold and taking all the booty for yourself, eh?”. Griff said.

“Yeah, yew tryin’t’ cut us owt?”, Shepp said. He puffed out his chest. He was a full head and a half shorter than Griff and Buck. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his coat. Griff looked over his shoulder at Shepp, making sure to intimidate him. Shepp shrank down and looked at the ground.

“Look, they just moved here, there really isn’t enough to bother looting.”, Buck tried to sound convincing,

Griff looked back toward the manor, and he could hear the chatter of voices and the strains of music off in the distance.

“Sounds to me like it’s ripe for the picking, wut wif all the fancy laawds and laydees and wot not.”, Griff said.

Buck tried to sound forceful in his protest.

“NO! I hired you and I say what goes! And I say, we aren’t doing this!”, Buck said as he stepped to Griff.

Griff took the butt of his gun and cracked Buck on the head, knocking him out. He fell like a rag doll to the ground.

“Who’s the boss now, eh?”, Griff said.

They stepped over Buck’s unconscious body and off in the direction of the house.

Just as Lena and Arielle, made it to the door, they stopped dead, as Griff pushed his way in and forced them back inside. Once in the ballroom, he announced, “Awright everyone, This is a sick up! Get your ‘ands in the air!”

The crowd stood still for a moment as the music stopped, unsure if this was really happening.

Griff shot the pistol into the air over his head. The loud blast cause some of the ladies to scream.

“I said, get ‘em up!”, he ordered. Now, if you do as we say, no one’s gonna get ‘urt…Put all your money and fancy jewels in this here bag,”, Griff said, as Shepp took out a satchel and went around the room collecting valuables.

Griff looked over at Eddie, who was stepping protectively in front of Lena and Arielle. He motioned at them to join the crowd now pressed against each other at the far end of the room. “Now nobody move and we will be off shortly, and y’can go back to your li’l soiree--“, Griff said, just as he heard a small voice from behind, him.

“Papa?!”, Christopher said as he made his way bleary eyed down the stairs.

Griff whirled on him and instinctively fired his gun.

“No!” Eddie shouted and he ran at Christopher and dove to grab him up.

The bullet went straight into Eddie’s back, just as he reached his son, shielding him from the blow. Christopher screamed.

Buck burst into the room, his eyes as wide as plates, and his mouth dropped open. Blood was streaming down the side of his face, as he looked first at Lena, then Arielle, then Griff and finally Eddie. He thought he should charge at Griff, but Kingston was already there and tacking him to the ground. Kingston smashed the man to his back and throttled him with one hand while gripping Griff by the wrist with the other. He put his full weight to bear on him and bashed his gun hand on the marble flooring repeatedly until the gun came free. Sheep, dropped the sack of valuables and made way to the gun, but Lady Valens was there first and cold cocked him squarely in the face, sending him flying, flat on his back. This made Buck smile just for a moment, and then his thoughts returned to Eddie. Lena was already at his side, when he reached them. Christopher was crying and squeezing his father around the neck, his face buried in Eddie’s shoulder.

“Papa! Pappa, NO!”, he cried.

Lena tried to calm Christopher, so she could turn Eddie over, but he would not be moved.

“Eddie…Eddie! Wake up!”, she wailed into his ear. Buck moved in and managed to pry the boy off so Eddie could be laid on his back.

Griff tried to wrestle himself free, but Arielle had him. She scooped up the pistol, cocked the hammer and said, “Don’t even think about it.”

“You go collect the little one, I’ve got this one well in hand, sir.”

She motioned for Kingston to get up and she took his place, straddling Griff, sitting her full weight upon him. Griff thought for a moment this might be something akin to fun, in any other context. He half smiled at her as he felt her fit into his lap.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, you hear?” She pointed the barrel down to the waistband area his pants, pressing the barrel against the fabric of her skirt hard enough where he could feel it tucked neatly between them. Griff’s half-grin faded to a look of horror as Arielle leaned in and whispered, “Best save that for the boys in the big house, eh? I hear they like a stodgy man-toy.”

Kingston, took the binding cords from the drapes and bound Shepp. “Someone fetch a doctor! And get the constable!”

Eddie loosed his hold on Christopher, who immediately threw himself forward on to Eddie’s chest and wept. His glasses were all akimbo as he pressed his face into his father.

“Right away!”, Buck stood and dashed out the door. He headed for the carriage house and unhitched and mounted the nearest horse. “Hyahh!”, he commanded. The horse bolted forward and off he rode into the night.

#regency #911 fanfic #buddie

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star-mum · 4 years

Text

LIVE REACTION TO NIGHTMARE TIME EP 1

Idk if anyone would even be interested in reading this but as I was watching the show last night I kept writing down my reactions on my notes so here we are

*this is all in caps idk why just roll with it*

THE OPENING SONG IS SUCH A BOP OMG NICK LANG HIMSELF ?????? MONSTER FUCKER RIGHTS ???? HIDGENS ENTRANCE HOW ICONIC "LUCY IS HAVING NONE OF IT" I LOVE THAT OMG JOEY PLAYING KONK (?) IS SUCH A POWER MOVE I LOVE THAT THE BEGGINING IS JUST TARZAN FANFIC SKSKSKSKS MARIAH IS TEXTING JOHN (?) AND HES LAUGHING SM WE LOVE A COMEDY QUEEN I LOVE THEM USING THE ZOOM BACKGROUNDS SKSKSKS KONK IS AWFULLY CLOSE TO COCK AND I THINK ITS ON PURPOSE ?? SPECIALLY WITH THE LAG I HAD TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE SOMETIMES SKSKSKS SOMEONE JUST SAID "TED'S ORIGIN STORY" ON CHAT AND I LOST IT !!!!! COULD YOU IMAGINE ???? HANDSOME LADY ? I MEAN SURE TIGHT JOHN IS LOSING IT FUCK MAN, SAME CURT OMG THAT ACCENT OOOOOOOOHHHH BOY I KNEW IT WAS HER FIANCEE SHIIIIT WE CANNOT TRUST HIM I KNOW THIS !!! "ENTAGLED" SKSKS WHAT SIR HES GAY CHILL OUT WHATS THE YEAR, IT FEELS SO OLD TIMEY "I'D SAY YOU HAD FEELINGS FOR THIS APEMAN" OOOOOOOHHHH DONT U SAY JONATHAN IS A PUSSY BITCH I CAN TELL LUCY JUST DROP IT OH SHE ACTUALLY DID ????? FUCK IT UP BABE

(I JUST ACIDENTALY DELETE HALF OF WHAT I WROTE SHIT, ILL HAVE TO REWRITE IT FROM MEMORY) WHAT THE FUCK THEY WERE TRICKING US??? THEY CALLED IT, WHAAAAAAAAT WDYM "PLAY THE PROFESSOR" IS HE NOT A PROFESSOR WHAT ALTERNATE REALITY IS THIS I NEED TO KNOW

ARE THEY GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM WHAT??? SINGING LONDON BRIDGE WHILE CHASING SOMEONE IS MY FAV SCARY TROP HAHAHHA YEEEEESSS "TOOK OFF WDYM" GIRL HE IS HOLDING A GUN WHAT DO YOU THINK "WDYM" WHY DID HE KEEP THE KONK ACT AFTER LUCY LEFT SKSKSKSKS TED WTF SKSKSKS "I DO SOME OF MY BEST THINKING WHEN IM ERECT" HAHAHAHA TED LIKES TO BE A HIMBO THATS GREAT IS HE GOING TO KILL TED ?? AAAAAAAHHHHHH TED HE HAS A GUN PLZ DONT TEST HIM HE HAS ALREADY KILLED A MAN OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK RECAST???? WHO IS TAKING TED'S ROLE ????? OH SO ITS NOT OLD TIMEY AFTER ALL RED SOMETHING???? OH TED'S GONNA PROPOSE IS SHE GONNA SAY NO? SHES GONNA SAY NO RIGHT ? FUUUUUUUUCK HAHAHHAHA WHY IS HE NAKED ??? JAHAHHAHA WHAT WHAT IS HAPPENING TED WHAT ? "PROFESSOR SHOULD GO FUCK HIMSELF" HAHAHAHA PORNHUB PREMIUM ACCOUNT HAHAHAH "OOOoooOOoOoOoOoOohhHhhHh BUT IT IS" FUCK NO DONT KILL HER OOOOOOOOOHHHH TED'S DEAD SHIT OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH ROBERT'S ACTING IS *CHEF'S KISS* DAMN OH SHIT TED *NOW* TED IS DEAD FUCK HIDGENS IS HERE NOOOOOOOOOOO IS HE GONNA KILL HER ??? OH SHIT OH FUCK LUCY'S CAUGHT IN A BEAR TRAP WHY ARE PPL SAYING WORKING BOYS IN THE CHAT ??? OH THATS WHY !!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHH MINE IS A LITTLE BEHIND IS SHE BROKE ??????? OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHA I KNEW IT HIDGENS GOT PLAYED THATS ON YOU BUDDY OH FUCK HIM UP LUCY ! BECKY BARNES ????? HATCHFIELD LORE ???? WAS SHE RUNNING AWAY FROM HIS HUSBAND IS THAT WHY SHE CLIMBED A TREE APE MAN SHOW UP PLZ WHO IS IT THO ?????? JEFF HELL YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK JESUS CHRIST APE MAN YEEEEAAAHHH WOOLY FOOT ?????? IS IT CHUMBY???? OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH HAHAHA YEEEEAAHHH HOW DID HIDGENS KNOW ????? OH IS IT OVER ?????? NOOOOOOOOOOOO I WANTED MORE ;-----; THIS WAS SO GOOD THO OOOHHH FUCK ANOTHER MUSIC NUMBER JAMIE YOU LOOK AMAZING !!!!!!!!!! I CANT WAIT FOR THESE SONGS TO BE AVAILABLR FOR US (IN LIKE 3 YEARS CAUSE IM BROKE SKSKSKSK) HE DANCES THE CAN CAN ?????? OKAY I SKIPPED A BIT TO BE ON TIME WITH EVERYBODY "ARE YOU FUCKKING HIGH????" YEEEEEEEEEAH PART 2 BABEY !!!!! NICK'S HAIR LOOKS AMAZING OMG OH ???????? BILL AND ALICE !!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD I MISSED THEM !!!!!!!!! OH THE TEEN ANGST I LOVE BILL SM HE'S SUCH A GOOD DAD DEB ????WHY WOULD U HURT BABY ALICE LIKE THIS ???? "I MIGHT NEVER SEE DEB AGAIN" GOD ALICE CHILL OUT LET HER BE A PLAY WRITER BILL CMON "MY BUDDY PAUL" AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH BLINKY ??? I DONT TRUST THAT AT ALL FUCK NO JOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHNNNN I DONT TRUST HES CHARACTER THO OOOOHHH LOVE DISCOUNTS I DIDNT LIKE THE WORKER CALLING HER PRINCESS THO, SHES BILL'S DAUGHTER NOT YOURS OOOOOOHHHHHH NO OH NONONONOONO BILL IS GOING TO DIE I JUST KNOW IT BLINKY IS EVIL I CAN FEEL IT ALICE NO NO LITTERING WHORE JAMES !!!!!!!!!! ALICE IS ALSO GOING TO DIE MAYBE RIGHT NOW WHO KNOWS BLNKY WTF SHE IS A MINOR WTF AAAAAH I DONT LIKE IT HERE JAMES ILY BUT THIS CHARACTER IS CREEPY AS SHIT I DONT LIKE IT HAHAHAH TIGHT LOVE THEME PARK STUPID SHIRTS "I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE FUNNY" HAHAHAHAH DROWSY TOWN ? THE CHAT PULLED MY ATTENTION TO THAT BUT I DONT GET WHY ? IS THIS BAD "I'D FOLLOW YOU ANYWHERE" THIS IS SUCH A DAD THING TO SAY OH ALICE CMON DONT SAY THAT BILL CUT IT OUT WITH DECIDING YOUR KIDS FUTURE THATS NOT FUN OH GOD I DONT TRUST THAT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO NO "AHOY BOYS AND GIRLS" NO NONONONONO UNCLE WILEY FUCK OFF THE SNIGGLES NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUUUUUUUUUCK NOOOOO AHHHHHHHHHHHHH "WE'RE THE SNIGGLES DONT BE SCARED" YOU KNOW WHAT SNIGGLES I AM SCARED BUT HELL YEAH SONG TIME OOOOOOOHHH FUCK IT UP JAMES OH ARE THEY GONNA LIKE GIVE THE AUDIENCE A SLEEP INDUCING DRUG OR SOMETHING ??????? "DONT BLINK" AHAHAHA I DONT TRUST THAT AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH "GREAT WE'RE DEAD" HAHAHAH THE SONG WAS A BOP THO "WHAT ARE THE SNIGGLES?" GREAT QUESTION ALICE "NOW U KNOW HOW I FELT WHEN I HAD TO SEAT THROUGH DEH" HAHHAHAHA "SEE U IN A SNIG" HAHAHA SNIGGLETTE ???U OKAY BBY??? OOOOOOOOHHH MORE SONGS HELL YEAH I LOVE ANGELA'S VOICE SM THE SNIGGLE PUNS ARE KINDA CONFUSING ME NGL WHY WAS THAT SO SAD OMG OOOOOOOH SHIT OH FUCK THEYRE GONNA KILL HER I JUST KNOW IT OMG "PRAISE THE WATCHER" OH MY GOD PLZ DONT KILL HER "UNTIL HE'S SEEN EVERYTHING" W H A T LAUREN'S VOICE SKSKSK SO CUTE PAPA SNIGGLE I DO NOT TRUST YOU THOSE ARE ALIVE ARENT THEY ????? OH FUCK SNIGGLETTE IS SHE OKAY ????????? "ANGELA R U ALRIGYT" WHAT "SHUT UP JEFF" OH MY GOD I DONT LIKE WHEN THEYRE SELF AWARE SKSKSKSK " U CAN SHUT THE HELL UP LAUREN" HAHAHAHA BILL OMG HE'S SUCH A DAD HAHAHAHAH ALICE IS SO NICE DO THEY NOT KNOW "ARON AROOON" HAHHAHA OH CHURROS I LOVE THOSE THE GIRL SHE DOESNT LIKE ?????? OH NON BINARY RIGHTS LOVE IT "IS THIS A FRIEND OF ZIGS" OH LOVE RESPECTFUL DAD DEB NOT COOL OH ALICE SHIT ALICE BBY IF SHES CHEATING ON YOU THATS NOT ON UR DAD STOP SHITTING ON HIM LIKE THIS "ITS UR MOTHERS FAULT" OH MY GOD HAHAHHAHA GREG AND ALISON ? AND BETH ?? DOES BETH LIKE HER ????OH NOOOOOO GREG NO U SHITTY SON OF A BITCH GOD FUCKING PUNCH HIM OH NO HAHAHA FUCK NO THEYRE ALL POSESSED ARENT THEY THATS THE TEEN FROM THE MOVIE THEATER HAHAHHA "it lagged ;-; now we wait" A MAN IN A HURRY HAHAHAHHA OH SHIT BILL IS MAD IS HE POSESSED TOO ??????? OH SHIT WHATS HAPPENING BLINKY ????????? OH NO OH NO SHES GONNA HAVE A PANIC ATTACK THEYRE GONNA BE FINE RIGTH ??????? RIGHT ???? BREATHING EXERCISES BABY CMON OH NO PLZ DONT DO ANYTHING STUPID BILL NOOOOOOOOOOO BILL PLZ DONT DIE AGAIN I LOVE YOU SM PUT UR SEATBELT BACK ON PLZ NOOOOOOOOO OH THEYRE BOTH GOING TO FALL ARENT THEY OH NO OH MY GOD OH SHIT PHONE IS BROKEN OOPS AWN IM GONNA CRY PLZ LET THEM SURVIVE I BEG YOU NICK LANG OOOOOOOOH TWILIGHT BUT GAY I AM *HERE* FOR IT OOOOOH THANK GOD THEYRE SAFE THANK YOU NICK LANG BILL YOURE SUCH A GOOD DAD OH GOD SHIT ALICE CHILL OUT ITS JUST A PHONE BABE "SHE KNOWS IM WATCHING HER" I DONT TRUST THAT IS *SHE* POSESSED OR IS THIS JUST TEEN ANGST ALICE UR DAD IS TRYING HIS BEST PLZ CUT HIM SOME SLACK OH MARIAH TURNED HER CAMERA OFF OH DEAR GOD WHAT DOES THAT MEAN HAHAH I LOVE LIVE BLOOPS OH MY GOD BLINKY IS TERRIFYING FUCK NO DO NOT GET THAT WIGGLY JUNIOR BILL DONT HOW ??????? OH MARIAH IS BACK WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ??????? WHY CANT BILL GET THE MALLET THING DONT TAKE IT YES SMART LAUREN ? SKSKKSS WHAT MADAM IRIS I DO NOT TRUST YOU WHAT ?????? IS THAT ALICE'S PHONE ???? BILL DONT GET SCAMMED OH ITS AN ALL SEEING IPHONE ALICE CHILL PLZ IS HE GONNA DIE ????? PLZ NICK DONT DO THAT ALICE DONT DONT KILL UR DAD 49.95 AGAIN BILL PLZ TRY ANOTHER GAME JAMES DAMN THATS RUTHLESS BILL WHAT AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH IS THAT REAL ???????? IT CANT BE ??????? OH ITS NOT REAL ARE THEY MAKING THEM HATE THEIR FAMILIES AND KILL EACH OTHER ?? A TENDER KISS ON THE CHEEK FROM A DEMON HOW NICE GUYS PLZ JUST GO TO THERAPY I BEG U WHAT ARE U GONNA DO BILL? KICK HER HEAD ??????? (SORRY I HAD TO) BLINKY'S FUNHOUSE THAT SOUNDS WARM AND COMFORTING THIS IS LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF NOT UR SEED FIGHTING IN THE MIRROR PART OF A FUN HOUSE IS ALWAYS A GOOD HORROR MOVIE TROPE OH FUCK ARE THEY GONNA WAKE UP OH FUCK PLZ WAKE UP ESCAPE THIS ALIVE YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH OH SHES GONNA SHOOT HIM ISNT SHE ????? SHES GONNA SHOOT HIM I JUST KNOW IT HES AWAKE SHES NOT IS BLINKY GONNA KILL THEM ?? OOOOOOOOHHHHHH FUCK I KNEW IT OH HELL YEAH ALICE FUCK IT UP ARE THEY GONNA DROW ?? OH NO OKAY DID THEY SURVIVE ???? IS SHARED TRAUMA GONNA SAVE THEIR RELATIONSHIP SKSKSKKS THEY SURVIVED !!!!!!!!! THANK YOU NICK LANG (AGAIN) WAIT HOW DID SHE GET HER PHONE BACK ? OH MADAM IRIS DID GIVE HER PHONE BACK AWWNNNNNNNN ALICE THIS ONE HAD A HAPPY ENDING YAY WELL IG THE OTHER DID TOO BUT NOT FOR THE CHARACTERS WE KNEW

THIS WAS SO GOOD I LOVER STAKID !!!!!!!!!!! I JUST WISHED I WASNT BROKE SO I COULD PAY FOR THE NEXT ONES KSKSKSKSK WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU GUYS TO DO YOUR REACTIONS FOR THE NEXT ONES !!!

I HEARD GREG AND IT WAS CRAIG SKSKKSSK OOPS

*from this part on is reactions from after the show when starkid was answering questions from the chat*

YEEAAH VOTE FOR BIDEN HELL YEAH STARKID

"THE WITCH IN THE WEB" WEBBY ???????? DO WE GET TO SEE HANNAH AGAIN ?????

A THEORY ON TUMBLR FROM REDDIT ON A INSTAGRAM ACC ON YT OH MY GOD SKSKSKSKKS

THE STORIES ARE CANON !!!!!!!!! THEORIES LETS GO GANG

STARKID FANS WHO CAN DONATE TO STARKID PLZ DO I WISH I COULD DONATE TO THESE TALENTED PPL G O D

I WAS CORRECT IT WAS KONK WITH A K

NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE YES!!!!!! WORKING BOYS !!!!

"NICK LANG IS A BOSS"

MARIAH: SAYS FUCK AS ALICE ALSO MARIAH: GEEKED THE *FREAKED* OUT

TIP JAR HAS BEEN OUT FOR 11 YEARS HELL YEAH

HOW TF DO YOU SPELL ZIGGS BTW

OOOHHH THEYRE FAKE THAT MAKES SENSE OK NOT FAKE COMFIRMED BUT PROBABLY FAKE LETS HOPE DEB DIDNT ACTUALLY CHEAT

"WELL I WAS BORN IN 1989" HAHAHAHA

BECKY CLIMBED WHILE RUNNING FROM HER HUSBAND I FEEL LIKE THATS WHAT THATS ABOUT

OH GOODIE I GET TO WATCH THEM LATER IDK WHEN BUT AT LEAST IK SOMEDAY

BLINKY VS WIGGLY

OH CMON NICK I WANTED TO KNOW ;-;

THIS WAS SO NICE I MISSED THEM ;-;

#starkid #team starkid #nightmare time #zoom #starkid show #blinky #hatchfield #starkid fandom #live reaction #starkid live reaction

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6v6taeminisloveshineeworld · 4 years

Text

Champagne Life Is All You Want

Word Count: 15.7k+

Genre: Romance, Idol/Hoop Aerialist AU, Smut, Cirque Du Soleil vibes, Gatsby Flair

Summary: It’s simple, love for luxury. You've lived this way for a long time. True love only existed in fables but after hitting a complete stranger with a car that isn’t even yours you find out that your new victim’s name is Lee Taemin and he has fallen hard into your web of deception that allows you to live the life of expensive pleasures that you always seem to swindle from your clients. The truth will break his heart, are you only in it for the money or have you begun to fall as well?

Pairing: Taemin X Reader

Warning: Contains mentions of Abuse, Blood, Sexual, and Suggestive content, as well as some foul language. This material is only a work of fiction and does not mean to defame living persons.

Taglist: @slavefortaemin

The hood of your newly stolen yellow convertible was down and you felt the breeze of autumn as you drove through the back roads of Aureus and into the less reputable parts of town.

You had lived in New Celes for the majority of your life and while most of your childhood years were spent in the Underground as the daughter of the most infamous crime groupe known as the Scarlet Wolf who were known to possess the heightened senses of sound, speed, and strength, you’d left them only to climb yourself from the gutter and into posh society with your charm.

There was a reason New Celes was coined the City Of Heavenly Desire, it’s nightlife was vibrant and it’s nobility spared no expense, leaving the less fortunate to look on with jealousy as they wasted their wealth frivolously. You’d survive the only way you could. With a father who’d sooner leave you in the streets because you proved to be a weak runt according to the standards of the pack you left the gang and found yourself at your wits end. You would have died on your own had it not been for the Matron of Muldale Estate.

The streets had been dark and unforgiving with lights only at the most populated corners and filled with people of ill repute. The Matron had found you frozen and half dead but still filled with a spirit that would not be extinguished. She took you to her estate, clothed you and fed you and in time you came to know the girls who lived there.

The women of Muldale Estate were prostitutes, or as they liked to be called “courtesans.” Their Matron, Madame Felicity Dupont loved the sound of her own voice.

When the Matron asked you to stay long ago you had thought you’d known just what you were getting yourself into and you promised yourself that it was only a temporary home. Now fifteen years later you knew you weren’t the same naive girl you had been before. Love was a mirage of deception and endless hoops. Love was only given if you gave in return even if it cost you your body and not your heart.

Dupont showered her girls In pretty gowns and diamonds and sold them off to the highest bidder but at the end of the day when you couldn’t wash off the scent of your clients’ perfume, you felt more like a shadow than a human.

Andre de Valois, the man who owned the car you drove now had been sadistic and cruel but he was very influential to Dupont. His wealth alone financed a quarter of the Matron’s income and that would have been fine if not for the fact that he only ever choose you.

His possessive nature had grown so strong it frightened you and when he made it clear that he wanted Dupont to sign you away to an exclusive contract with him he was not pleased when you rejected him. Far from it.

He was always used to having his way and the evening had ended badly to say the least with you landing a punch to his jaw and fleeing out the door taking his keys with you. Now driving carelessly fast downtown with tears ruining your mascara it was no wonder to find you had hit something. Or was it someone? You frantically unfastened your seat belt and stepped out of the car shakily to find a man passed out in front of the car.

“Oh my god!” You said, rushing over to the man and turning him to the side to face you as you leaned down to check his pulse.

You let out a sigh of relief when you felt his breath against your cheek. His lithe body rising and falling as you rested your palm on his firm chest.

His features looked familiar somehow but you dismissed it from your mind as you agonized over the fact that his forehead was bleeding slightly and you were in the middle of an unwelcoming neighborhood with no license and a stolen vehicle. If this man pressed charges you were done for and it wasn’t for fear that you’d get locked up, but rather that you would be found and taken back that terrified you.

You took the end of your scarf in hand and started to clean the blood away, the man’s features becoming more noticeable as you moved his dark brown hair out of his eyes and all too soon you recognized the man before you as Lee Taemin, the idol of the Ten Rings Circus, more commonly known as the “Night Circus” and one of the wealthiest most well-known artists in New Celes.

Fate loved to play games with your soul it seemed and she had a twisted sense of humor.

If anyone could save you from Dupont’s dismissal and Andre’s rage it would be the unconscious man before you.

Just then Taemin started to stir and you gave him your most concerned expression. Wide eyes and red lips pursed in a frown. Your smudged mascara only adding to your look of distress.

“Are you alright?” You said gently, careful to keep your distance from him in case he lashed out but close enough to look him in the eyes.

You were surprised when warm brown eyes meet yours. You’d only seen those eyes in posters and magazines, he had always looked too stoic, too unapproachable to imagine ever meeting.

“I’m fine,” he said sitting up slowly and looking at your car inches from him.

You let out an audible sigh of relief that he hadn’t hit his head as badly as you’d initially thought.

“But what about you? Are you alright? You were in such a hurry. Are you running away from something?” He said with a knowing look in his eyes as he took in your disheveled appearance.

“No, it’s nothing.” You said brushing his words aside and getting to your feet. You felt a stab of guilt for wanting to use him as an easy escape moments before. Even though he was a complete stranger he was showing you compassion instead of anger, concern instead of annoyance.

Somehow you knew taking his hand would be alright, but when you reached for it a strong wind blew away the scarf you had carelessly replaced over your neck before he’d woken, revealing Andre’s fingerprints on your skin.

“How did you get that! Who did that to you?” He said in surprise, coming closer only to have you quickly move away out of habit as if he would strike you.

“It’s none of your business,” you said placing your hands around your shoulders protectively. He stepped back when he noticed you were uncomfortable and it genuinely touched you that he seemed to care. You’d grown used to seeing marks on your body, at this point, it was a part of life that faded just like a hundred nights worth of memories too painful to recollect.

Maybe it was the way he looked at you that made you confess these next words, maybe it was just your selfish greed that clung to you like a vise but you found yourself unable to continue your charade anymore. You were tired of pretending, and maybe just maybe, you could tell he had already fallen for the woman who had run him over.

“No, no I’m not fine.” You said sitting against the hood of the car and holding back tears. “I’m a courtesan of Muldale,” when he nodded in understanding you continued. “My client… well he won’t be seeing me anymore I left him and if the Madam found out I was leaving her service before my time she’ll have the officials come and find me. My client is very wealthy you see and she couldn’t stand to lose-”

“How far along are you on your Emblem till your debt is paid?” He said determination in his voice.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. Once again he’d surprised you. He seemed to be knowledgeable enough in the trade to know that the women of Muldale all had debts to pay to their Madame and that she kept count of their progress by marking them with a tattoo called an emblem. The emblem was of their own design choice from a limited selection but it was always along the back in a circle and once that circle was completed you were free to leave.

“I owe a life debt to her, my Emblem is less than halfway through.”

“I’ll pay it for you.” He said it so quickly that you were certain this had to be a dream.

“What do I owe you in return?” You answered just as quickly. You didn’t hide the distrust in your tone. “Nothing is free in this world.”

“You’re right,” he looked regretful of his next words but continued anyway. “If I pay for your Emblem will agree to pretend to be my fiancee?” You scoff, shaking your head but internally you are delighted. It would seem that your plan was going better than expected. You turned around and acted as if you were making your way back to the car before he stopped you with a light touch at the elbow.

“Hear me out-”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know it’s a crazy idea but I’m in a situation that I don't want to be in right now-

“Aren’t we all,” you said with a laugh.

“Yes, but I am constantly confronted with marriage proposals and one of these days I’m afraid the family I am indebted to will force me into an agreement.” He could have said anything else but this was the last thing you’d expected.

“You’re Lee Taemin, Shining Star of the Night Circus! If anyone had the power to say no it would be you.”

He ducked his head when you mentioned his title, red blooming on the tips of his ears. “The Night Circus is not what posters would have you believe,” He said. “You and I are more alike than you know. The things I’ve had to do to make my way to the top. I owe that family everything for bringing me from the gutter to the spotlight.”

His words cut like a fresh wound. Nothing in the glittering world of New Celes was ever what it appeared on the surface and if even it’s young gods walked their lives on burning coals well, nowhere was safe.

“I’ll do it.” You said.

“Really?” He gave you the widest smile and suddenly you wondered if being indebted to this beautiful man was more dangerous than belonging to Andre.

“What’s your name,” he said the instant you were both in the car. You started the engine and made the turn back to Muldale Estate. You were silent for a few minutes till you finally said in a whisper, “Call me Lady Basileia, everyone else does.” Like your old life, your true name had also been lost to you, and if you knew anything for certain it was the fact that there was no reclaiming it.

Dupont was furious. Andre’s wrath was nothing in comparison to the lady’s words. “I’ve clothed you, I took you in from the streets when you were nothing and this is how you repay me! Go back to the Comte de Valois and beg on your knees for him to take you back.” Dupont was about to grab you by the hair before Taemin grasped her wrist, holding her back. You’d told him to stay outside but it seemed you wouldn’t have an easy time getting him to listen.

“Mademoiselle Basileia will beg no one, Madame Dupont,” Taemin said from behind her. “She is a free woman from this day forward I will pay her Emblem price.”

A small collective gasp could be heard from the ladies who were listening in against the door-frame. Their palpable excitement grew hushed when Dupont swore at them.

Dupont laughed coldly before she said, “Young man, take your fanciful ideas elsewhere. You wouldn’t be able to buy a single night with her much less ten years wor-

Taemin faced her and she paled, her eyes widening as she too recognized him.

“I beg your pardon, my lord. I did not know-”

“Mademoiselle Basileia and I are in a hurry,” he said.

Dupont gaped at you before suddenly tripping over herself to call in for some tea. When Taemin declined her offer and suggested they get right to business and that he would pay her in full she directed him to her office and left you to collect your things.

Emilie was the first of the ladies to approach you. As soon as you sank into a tub of hot water she came to sit on the ledge and scrub your back with a sponge, her touch was gentle at the nape of your neck as she seemed to want to wash away William’s scars. “Is he kind to you? Lord Taemin, I mean. Or is he cold, like the pictures I’ve seen of him?” Just as you were about to answer the door flung open.

“Who cares Emilie!” Agatha said coming into the room with a stack of fresh towels. “He’s rich, richer than Andre. Only the best for Lady Basileia,” Agatha said, jealousy laced in her voice. “We could never compete with that.”

“Wealth is not everything Agatha!” Lily said coming into the room to join them, her cheeks were flushed and her buoyant voice ever-cheerful no matter her situation. If it hadn’t been for Lily and her optimism you thought you wouldn’t have survived your days here. Of everyone at Muldale, she was perhaps the only one who still believed in love and she was quite the romantic. Her imagination often kept the ladies entertained, and her short works of fiction were often shared at sleepless hours.

“I can’t believe you met the Ice Fairy by chance!” Lily said taking Emilie’s place beside you. “I saw him go into Madam’s office and he is even more handsome in person than his portraits. It was fate Basileia, fate! Did he see you with the Comte at his estate and decide that he had to have you for his own? Was he a friend of Andre? Or did he see you on the streets and you melted his heart of stone? They say he doesn’t have one you know, he’s turned down so many pretty women and of noble families too!”

“Well, I suppose you can say I ran him over…”

Later when you were dried off and in your bedroom, you searched through your things to find the plainest dress you could. Nothing here was your own and other than the handful of letters from the ladies and Emilie’s handmade bracelet as a gift on your twentieth birthday you left everything else and closed the door behind you.

Half an hour later you found yourself laying on your stomach in the tattoo parlor close to Muldale estate. You winced as the inked needle met your back again. The tattoo artist knew of the girls from their countless visits. When you had walked into the shop and declared that your entire Emblem be finished he’d been shocked but you could see the excitement in his eyes. Most girls picked the design for their emblem but you had let Eddie do whatever he wanted and as it turned out your back was his own personal masterpiece or that’s how he felt at least and you had to agree he didn’t waste his imagination when it came to his attention to detail.

Eddie turned the open sign around and started right away, completing his design in a total of five hours. Every second had been worth it though you thought as he held a mirror up to your back and you saw yourself in the mirror in front. A flower time dial was beautifully etched into your back, primroses, cherry blossoms, roses, and lilacs. They weren't in color but they seemed alive and each stroke of ink depicted an emotion, from how the petals tilted toward the imaginary sun to how they wilted.

“Thank you, Eddie, I love it.” He beamed at you and you felt the pride in him swell and his heart soar. Sometimes pain and pleasure really did walk hand in hand.

It was late the next day when you reached the heart of Aureus, at some point you had let Taemin drive the car he rented after he insisted that you leave Andre’s car at Muldale where Dupont could return it to him. The nightlife here was even more vibrant than you remembered. In fact, if you were being honest you knew nothing of the high-end brothels and drinking taverns of New Celes, only the pompous champagne-soaked floors of dancing halls that Andre and other clients had brought you too, hoping to seduce you with charm and sophistication. No, the Night Circus it seemed was something different, something in between. Your heart raced a bit more excitedly as you read the giant billboard up ahead Our Aim Is To Please You, it read in painted crimson letters, like blood upon the lily-white backdrop.

Taemin parked and took your hand to guide you through the crowd and into the enormous red tent. You could hear the music from within even from a distance, something akin to carnival music but more gentle. You could hear french horns and soft drums both haunting and sensuous.

Before opening the tent flap Taemin leaned down and whispered, “The show is about to start soon. Ten will have my hide if I’m not backstage soon so make yourself comfortable in the audience.” You nodded at him before he disappeared into the crowd.

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimmed and you squirmed in your seat as the young noblewoman beside you asked her manservant to attend her. She wore a diamond choker necklace at her throat and you caught the glint of silver on her left hand. The raven-haired manservant knelt at his mistress’s feet and lifted her skirts enough to engulf his head under. It wasn’t unusual for aristocracy to show their lewdness in public settings such as these. But you had to admit, you really hadn’t known anything about The Night Circus.

The noblewoman's soft moans were covered by the sound of the now more vivacious orchestra and as the curtains of the stage began to rise, you forgot all about her.

“Mesdames et messieurs,” the ringmaster bellowed. It was astonishing to see Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, more commonly known by the stage name of ‘Ten’ the ringmaster before you. He acquired the nickname when his family came into possession of the largest fortune in New Celes, taking over ten towns along the coast and placing circuses, hotels, and nightclubs in each of them. His family name was known as the “Gatsby of New Celes” and honestly half the continent. It was no wonder that Taemin had money practically spilling from his veins. With Ten as a benefactor he was set for life and you couldn't help but wonder why Taemin would want to risk the family’s anger by denying any marriage they set forth for him.

“Allow us to entertain you tonight under the canopy of the moon.” Ten continued, “let us seduce your mind and captivate your soul. May I present le cirque nocturne!” The crowd roared with applause and with a flick of the ringmaster’s whip, the opening act began.

A woman in a lilac leotard appeared on stage and moved her body in ways you hadn’t even known possible. Her contorted body seemed to tell a story, the music flowed without words but like a ballet, the woman moved with the melody. As more dancers appeared you began to make more sense of the plot. The story the woman danced to was of a siren who had lost her tail and moved upon land in odd yet graceful ways. She reminded you of a sparrow in a world of swans, awkward yet full of life. When the curtains closed on the act you stood in applause with the rest of the crowd.

Next was a pair of tightrope walkers, it was a woman and a man painted in makeup that made them look like cats with whiskers and all. The woman balanced a parasol in one hand and the man a cane with a larger than normal curved end. You realized why that was so when the man circled the cane around the woman’s waist and the audience gasped in wonder at the girl’s perfect balance as she made her way across the rope and into her lover’s arms.

The next set of dancers stood on swings as they twirled long ribbon batons in their hands and swept them over the crowds. Their short satin red dresses left little to the imagination as they entwined with each other and leaped through the air, catching one another by the wrists.

There were more acts that seemed to pass in a blur, jugglers and fire breathers. Your body grew heated with the number of people in the tent as you waited for Taemin’s performance and you became impatient till finally, Ten spoke again, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the act you have all been waiting for, our ravishing, shining, hoop aerialist, Lee Taemin!”

If the crowd had made any noise till that moment it was nothing compared to the deafening cries now. But as the curtains began to rise once more, everyone fell silent as if they were all holding their breath underwater, ready to be swept away.

Taemin was a sight to behold it was true and you could feel your pulse quicken ever so slightly as you took in the transformation before you. The man you arrived with seemed to be buried within this immorally captivating creation. He wore a black top hat with a half net across one side of his face and a shimmering silver and midnight blue leotard with sheer sleeves and a low neckline. His angelic figure and fair collarbone a teasing sight amidst all the tiny glittering diamonds sewn onto the fabric. The diamonds seemed to dance with the lights in the tent as Taemin moved his hands upwards towards the hoop hanging above him.

He seemed to move with the music as you had never seen anyone move before. He was one with the melody like nature herself his gestures reminding you of water and wind. Once he reached the hoop his feet seemed to climb invisible stairs into the air till he was seated in the hoop and once more began to swivel and bend like falling water, tossing his hat aside as he went. His ankles caught the sides of the hoop as his head and body soared downwards. The transitions were seamless and watching the lithe muscles of his arms move as he grabbed the hoop and pulled himself up was hypnotic. You found yourself searching for his eyes and once they meet your own you felt yourself flush but were unable to look away.

You knew now why they called him the fey king of ice and lust, his coal lined sultry stare seemed to undress you with a glance alone. He spun around the hoop like a snake till he stood upon the inner circle and then, oh gods above, he began to sing. You didn’t understand the words but by his tone, you could feel it was a song of deep longing and yet fragility as if the thing he yearned for lay far out of his reach or lay dead beneath the earth. His voice was both angel and devil, sweet as nectar and fatal as flame. He swung over the heads of the audience as he sang, the rope seeming to lengthen and glide along with him. He showered the spectators with diamonds from his costume as they loosened and fell like rain upon them. The audience’s applause spread through the crowd like wildfire and Taemin took a final bow before the curtains closed for the night and adoring fans threw roses and even entire bouquets to the empty stage as the lights in the tent brightened once again.

Without a second thought, you hurried from your seat and slipped backstage determined to find Taemin and congratulate him on such a wonderful performance expecting to find him surrounded by fellow performers but instead, you found him backed against the wall, Ten’s arms caging him in with one hand beside his head and his whip in the other. You hid quickly behind a stage prop of what looked like an ancient Greek pillar, eyes widening as Ten tilted Taemin’s chin up with the tip of his whip, his eyes never leaving Taemin’s defiant gaze.

“You needn't go through all this trouble over a harlot, mon tresor.” Ten said tracing his fingers against Taemin’s back. Taemin pulled away from his touch and Ten drew his hand away.

“Others may mistake her for a fine noblewoman but you forget I have eyes everywhere, even in the lowest gutter of town. Why won’t you accept my offer? You could have so much more than this life, you would be a demigod among men with what I could give you.” Ten said taking Taemin’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles.

“I’ve already visited the press with news of my new fiancee, Ten.” You won’t be able to quiet our engagement easily without causing a scene and disrupting your father’s trust. I am your family’s humble servant and nothing more.” Taemin said in a cold tone as he slipped from Ten’s grasp and into the changing room.

Your mind was muddled with questions as you made your way back to the crowd unseen and waited for Taemin to find you.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the 20th floor of one of New Celes’s finest hotels run by Ten’s family of course. Taemin had a total of twelve rooms that all connected to one another. He led you to what you assumed was the guest room. The sheets were silk and there was a mahogany dresser with a beautiful matching vanity in the corner of the room, the edges of its mirror rimmed with gold. You moved to the window, moving the heavy curtains aside to take in the bustling night view of New Celes. You had to admit this offer was the best you’d ever had, although you felt a small stab of guilt for using Taemin in this way you found solace in the fact that he was also using you to run away from his own problems. “Wait,” you said, as Taemin walked toward the door to leave. He halted outside your door, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“Why did you lie to me?” You said turning from the window to face him. He looked puzzled at the statement so you continued. “I saw you with Ten, he seemed sincere, like he would give you anything if you agreed to be with him. Why would you refuse that?”

Taemin’s eyes darkened and he said briskly, “Don’t speak of what you do not understand.”

“It wasn’t a horde of girls I came here to shield you from but his advances wasn’t it.” You said coming closer, your voice matching his tone. “You think his obsession with you is a passing fancy? That he’ll soon tire of you with me around I gather or are you trying to make him jealous? What, is he not good enough for you? I know men and women would kill to have the place you have in his eyes. I won’t stay here and be put in danger! I won’t stand between the Chittaphon family and their desires, it would be like tying a noose around my own neck. Stop being stubborn and go to him-”

“Enough!” Taemin said shutting the door and coming to stand closer to you. “I’ll never crawl to that sick bastard even if he held a gun to my head.”

A look of pity crossed your features as you said, “Well if his being a man is what disgusts you so its nothing to be ashamed of. I once had a patron that was a woman-”

“That’s not the reason at all,” Taemin said interrupting you. His voice was composed once again and he seemed hesitant but continued. “You must tell no one you know of this but it’s Ten’s bloodstained hands and dirty money that disgusts me.”

Your eyes widened as you sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to continue.

“All this wealth you see around you has come at a heavy price, the Chittaphon family have sold their souls for this luxury, the deaths of so many lay in their hands. The family makes most of their money in human trafficking and other despicable things. Ten is just as corrupt if not more so than his family. A flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes and then it was gone, replaced by ice once more. “We grew up together, it was no secret that we grew close to one another, I grew to love him and through the years I have seen him grow more and more twisted.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You said a bit shaken at the realization that he knew some of your pain as well, knew how it felt to be shattered by the people you trusted the most. If your father had been a real father, if Andre had been an honorable man, you wouldn’t be here now seeking to console the dancer before you with an earnest hug. It would be hard to sleep in these sheets without thinking of the malicious lengths the owners had gone through to accumulate their wealth and it made your stomach turn.

Perhaps it was the wine you drank before falling asleep but your dreams were persistently vivid. A russet wolf stalked you, it wasn’t hostile but it pursued you with relentless abandon. It never left your side, whenever you looked over your shoulder there it was yet you were not frightened. You were not frightened that was, until its scarlet eyes met yours, sending you a rush of memories you wished would stay buried. You woke with a scream on your lips, your throat felt dry and your hair damp with sweat.

You slid from the bed and opened the mini-fridge in the small kitchenette of your room. Drinking an entire bottle of water and wiping your forehead with a cloth before slipping out of the room and into the master suite. Taemin’s room was right beside yours and you didn’t believe that was a mere coincidence. A candle was lit on the bedside table and you were greeted by his soft even breathing as you made your way to the enormous bed and climbed in beside him careful not to touch him. If it was a fiancee he had bargained for then it was one he would get. You turned your face away from his back and settled in to sleep but your eyes opened wide once more when you felt Taemin’s hand wrap around your shoulder in a gentle embrace as he turned to face your back and fell asleep once more. So maybe he had heard you awaken from your nightmare earlier you thought as your eyes grew heavy again and you fell asleep to the warmth of his touch and the thud of your heart.

You blinked as sunlight greeted you and you stretched, opening your eyes wider as you felt the absence of heat beside you and an empty pillow, your hands grazing over the indent in the fabric. Taemin was gone already, must have been since early this morning but his distinct scent still lingered, a combination of sweet oranges and heady cinnamon spice. You met the cold wooden floorboards against your bare feet with a groan as you made your way to the bathroom but a small young woman stopped you as you made your way to the tub.

“My name is Marguerite,” she said with a small curtsy. “Lord Taemin asked me to see to your needs m’lady. What minerals would you like in your bath?”

“Oh, anything you like Marguerite I don’t mind truly.” You said moving out of her way so she could toss a few veils of lovely smelling soaps into the tub as she turned the hot water on.

“How long have you been in Lord Taemin’s services?” You asked curiously.

“Today is my first day m’lady, his lordship doesn’t keep many servants. Just the occasional cleaning maid. I expect he figured you’d be needing a handmaid.”

You nodded at this, touched that he’d thought so far ahead as to hire the girl already. You made a mental note to thank him later as you dipped into the warm water and watched the colorful bubbles that clung to your chest.

The hotel breakfast was divine of course. Everything about the hotel was exquisite and filled with every out of season delicacy you could imagine. Grabbing an extra candied pear before you left the breakfast hall you decided to explore the grand hotel further. You made your way in and out of passageways and lobbies with sitting rooms and expensive carpets. But you wondered where the reception room for weddings and banquets must be.

A hotel like this would have quite a few of them and sure enough, you came to a door that seemed close to the gardens. On the archway was a plaque that read Hall of Mirrors, you smiled at that. Of course, anyone who ran a circus would decide it a fitting name. You opened the heavy doors carefully and shut it behind you. Your eyes widened at the sight before you, you had never seen such wealth in one room alone. The hall was bathed in light, the sun shown through the many-windowed arches and reflected on the arches of mirrors just across. There were so many mirrors, more than three hundred if you could guess. the arches and walls all gleamed with their polished golden frames and elaborate craftsmanship. There were even mirrors that looked as if they belonged in a funhouse with odd shapes to them that disfigured your reflection. But most of them were tall and elegant.

There was so much glass in the room you felt afraid to touch anything at all. Glass chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling and you wondered at the poor servant who lit the small white candles. This room in all its opulence reminded you of the photographs you’d seen of Versailles. This entire room was a show of power. You moved closer to the marble statue of what looked like Apollo riding his sun chariot. You ran the tip of your finger along the small stallions manes, fascinated by their detail.

“My father thinks himself a god, Mademoiselle.” The voice startled you so that when you moved to turn around you’d cut yourself on one of the stallions sharply pointed ears. You stuck the pricked finger in your mouth to wipe away the blood as you stared at Ten before you. He looked straight through you at the statue before continuing, “Did you know there are eighteen figures alone in this hotel of Apollo? On fountains and vases.” He shook his head. “My father, the sun-god of business and opportunity.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have pried into your rooms.” You said, eager to getaway. I enjoyed the performance last night, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. My name is-”

“I know who you are Lady Basileia, the papers cannot help but jump at the chance to announce your presence.”

“This banquet hall is very exquisite, do you hold weddings here?” Your heartbeat raced nervously but you kept a smile plastered on your face. Maybe if he bored of your small talk he’d excuse himself or throw you out even.

“Why do you wish to know?” He said, looking at you as if for the first time. “Would you like to hold your wedding here?” Ten smiled in a mocking sort of way and he looked at you as if you were nothing but filth dragged in. “I’m afraid this sort of lavishness makes Taemin uncomfortable, there is no way your groom to be would agree to such a location. A pity really that such a humble man must deal with a fortune-hunting wench like you.”

You didn’t dare break his gaze as you said, “If you’ll excuse me my fiance is waiting for me. I hope that our next meeting will be more pleasant. You gave him a small dignified curtsy and exited the room careful to walk entirely around him. You found your breath again only after you were a safe distance away from the hall and out of the hotel.

You made your way to the red tent hoping to find Taemin and ask him to take you out to the city. You just needed to go anywhere else to get your mind off of your encounter and shopping was the perfect distraction. If all you were good for was spending money then you would do just that you thought bitterly. Ten had frightened you with his smile, the way his face seemed bright and youthful but his spirit dark in ways you didn’t want to imagine. He reminded you of Andre, the way he brought you down and made you feel as if you were truly nothing.

You still wore the only dress you owned and just because of Ten’s family dealings you weren’t going to stop yourself from using his money. The more you could spend before Taemin all of a sudden decided he’d had enough of his life here and was ready to flee his position in the circus the better. You didn’t plan on leaving with him if he did. You’d already left everything behind once in your life and being penniless again was not an idea you fancied. If you played your part well there wasn’t a soul besides Ten who would doubt your sincerity and that was payment enough in your mind. Taemin had given you a perfect opportunity to mingle with the highest of aristocracy here each night at the red tent and you weren’t going to pass up the chance to make some money of your own for your own sense of security.

Trusting anyone and being indebted for life to anyone scared the hell out of you and even though Taemin seemed like some star-crossed spirit no matter how hard you tried to push the thought aside you weren’t about to trust in his motives anytime soon. The more his soul tugged at yours and the more your heart softened as you experienced his pain. When you spoke last night together it had frightened you and it did not change the fact that he was just human. A beautiful godlike figure but mortal nonetheless and people were prone to deception.

You weren’t beyond using him as Ten had blatantly said, a deal was a deal after all and with every lingering touch and glance it was growing harder to ignore. As long as he didn’t muddle your interest in carnal pleasures for love you weren’t against it. In fact, it would probably be bliss to meet a passion so intense that it would make you forget Andre and his months of torment. A welcome distraction before parting ways in the future.

Ducking under the tent flap you spotted Taemin immediately. He was impossible to miss, sitting center-stage in a gilded birdcage that took up almost the entire stage. He sat on the swing hanging down from the top of his golden prison like some exotic bird in a royal menagerie. You could imagine how extravagant the costuming would be that night for the show, A spectral of colorful feathers and brightly painted eyelids but you found a pleasurable peace in watching him with practice gear, the white full-bodied leotard hugging every curve of his body.

His voice was sweeter than any birdsong and you found yourself inexorably drawn to him as you went to sit in the front row to watch. This time his song told the story of fame and loss. Of a being so popular his lifeblood existed on stage. It was like listening to Taemin’s deepest worries while learning all at once that he wouldn’t give all of this up for anything. It seemed that you had misjudged him, he wasn’t a prisoner to this circus but a slave to himself and his never-ceasing desire to give his all in every performance, even in one like this that was just for practice. He may have started down this path because of his need and Ten’s family but his heart was also here and with his fans as if this was what he was born to do. When he finished singing you cheered louder than you had before, making up for the empty seats. He smiled at you and ducked as the other performers lifted the cage enough for him to slip under.

“You're just in time my love,” He said extending a hand to you and pulling you onstage. “I’d like to introduce you to my family.” It was clear that by family he meant the other performers. They gathered around you with curiosity as he said, “Everyone, this is my fiancee Mademoiselle Basileia that I have spoken to you of.” You nodded at them all in turn with a smile before they began to ask questions that you knew were coming.

“Taem says you saved him! Is that true My Lady?” Said Valerie whom you remembered as the contortionist siren who had the opening act of the circus. Before you could answer a small middle-aged woman that you remembered faintly from the sidelines yesterday came bustling from backstage shouting, “Goddess be praised ye finally brought the lass over! I thought you would hide her away till the masquerade. The woman placed a glass of ice water in Taemin’s hands and kissed you on the cheeks.

“This is Madame Orla,” Taemin said.

“But you may call me Mother Orla,” she said taking your hand in her own. “Taemin, Yule is in less than two weeks, aren't ye going to take your future bride and buy her a gown for the ball. You know how ruffled the merchants get when you don’t give them dew notice! She’ll end up wearing some premade ill-fitting thing. She said in a chastising voice filled with love and amusement.

It suddenly struck you that this Yule ball was not just any Winter Solstice gathering but rather the ball. The Chittaphons threw elaborate parties all year that was to be sure but their annual Yule Masquerade ball held in their own manor was unlike any other. It was almost magical in its limited guest list and famed extravagance and after your visit to the Hall of Mirrors, your mind could scarcely wrap around the idea of what their manor would look like. It was one of Lily’s favorite pastimes to write about one or all of the girls at Muldale attending, like Cinderella appearing at the palace. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were now invited as Taemin’s fiancee to the event.

“Mother Orla, why don’t you give her a proper Sibylline greeting while I change. Taemin said kissing your forehead and further solidifying the ‘couple’ myth as the dancers tittered at his small show of affection. “Mother Orla is a seer,” He whispered into your ear before walking backstage.

You didn’t believe in fortune-telling, it was all a play of lucky guesses and pretty lies that the client wanted to hear but you pushed these thoughts aside and decided to indulge Orla as she lead you with her to sit in a small round table backstage.

“I read palms,” Orla said. “In palmistry, the lines of your passive hand signifies what you were born with and the attributes the gods have given you while your dominant hand signifies what you have done with that potential and the choices you choose to make. May I?” She said gesturing to your dominant hand. You gave it to her gingerly, your palm faced up and resting in her gentle hands as she skidded her fingers along yours and studied the line that rested at the top of your palm and ended under your pinky finger.

“Well, your heart line starts below your middle finger. This suggests that you are a leader who is independent and you have a keen sense of intellect. However, this intelligence indicates that you combine romance with rationality and careful calculation.” She frowned before continuing, “ You are selfish with your love and quite materialistic, you are not happy unless you control your surroundings and this leads you to act coldly towards others.” Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, a bit taken aback by the honesty of her words. “See the way your love line is forked with indecision form your brain and heart at war with each other?” You nodded, actually agreeing with her on this point. Love was illogical to you and suffocating, it made you feel trapped. “Yet your heart longs for freedom as well, perhaps from your past, you are much like a lone she-wolf lass, stubborn as a mule but hungry for passion. If you aren’t careful your stubbornness will devour you and lead to the capture of your free spirit, found by the hunter that you fear.” You shuttered then at the comparison as you remembered the wolf in your nightmare. Perhaps the wolf was you and the hunter in this fable your father, the connection was clear and unavoidable.

Orla moved on, paying attention to the line that ran down the center of your palm. “You may find this news more promising. Your Fate Line shows your talent in creating relationships even if they are imbalanced by personal gain. You will have someone faithful to you, a helpmate to strengthen your personal ties and belief in trust. But be warned, if you remain distrustful your life will be a lonely path indeed.” Orla said, utter seriousness in her tone. You pulled your hand away not looking her in the eye.

“Well, what do the stars say of our love Orla?” Taemin said as he came towards them dressed in plaid red pants, black boots, and a black and white jacket that somehow fit together marvelously.

“It was by fate that your soul encountered hers, I believe you will be her salvation if trust blooms and she your downfall should it crumble,” Orla told him solemnly.

Taemin took your arm and entwined it with his. “Thank you for the reading Orla,” Taemin said brushing aside her grim account with a sideways smile. “But I believe Basileia and I have a way of steering fate in our favor.” You bowed your head as a thank you for the reading and left the tent with him. You didn’t turn around even as you felt Orla’s eyes pierced your back.

It was a short drive into the bustling city. The heart of New Celes was alight with Yuletide celebration. Trees were decorated in colored lights and wreaths were hung in every shop. Taemin brought you to a woman’s clothing store filled with elaborate day gowns and business slacks, helping you pick out a few and waiting by the fitting room as you tried on the ones you liked. You modeled a few for him, spinning around in slow circles as he watched the way the fabric cascaded down your legs and hugged your hips.

He found a pair of gold-rimmed heels and knelt to the floor, you lifted your skirt and he slipped them onto your feet, avoiding contact as he did so. Watching his gentle hands against the heel brought a pang of annoyance to your chest. He was so careful with you, so distant, so cold.

“I believe these will be perfect for the masked ball,” Taemin said rising from the floor. You nodded and turned away to head back to the fitting room, your cheeks felt hot and you were ready to take the damn long dress off. You didn’t like the way it dragged across the floor no sooner had you thought it then you tripped over the fabric and tumbled off the mirrored platform. He was there in an instant, catching you by the shoulders and breaking your fall. You looked up at him, his face closer than it ever had been, even in sleep he’d kept at a distance. But now you felt his chest against yours, the beat of his heart one with the rise and fall of your breasts and his warm hands against your skin. His eyes met yours and yet you were the first to break the stare. “Thank you.” You straightened and he released you.

“I’ll be next door fitting for my Yule costume,” he said. “It's best if we surprise each other though most couples like to match but I believe I’ll let fate decide this one.” His eyes were back to that blank lazy submission, any sparkle of openness lost as he turned and made his way towards the front of the store.

It didn’t take you long to choose a Yuletide costume. You simply thought of what Lily would have chosen and the decision was done. You had to admit the symbolism of such a costume would be lost on no one and it gave you a thrill to think of it.

“And whom should I put the dress under for pickup My Lady? The seamstress said as she marked down the measurements of your waist, neckline, and shoulders into a massive book of orders.

“You may put it under my name Madame Escoffier,” Taemin said as he came into the shop again with several bags. “I haven't seen you in months ma fée,” The woman said sweetly coming to kiss his cheeks.” Her fairy indeed you thought, marveling at his jovial demeanor and quick smiles. It was a gift he seemed to possess, he influenced the aura around him either radiating cold magnetic charm or sunshine that no one could escape.

“You tell Orla I’m waiting for a visit soon.” Madame Escoffier said as you walked out of her shop. Taemin grabbed the bags and assured the lady he would.

Next, Taemin took you to a small antique shop on the end on the street. The store was filled with old-fashioned bonnets expensive fishing rods and pendants. In the jewelry case, you found many pieces of faux earrings and necklaces and you wondered why they warranted the extra protection till your eyes fell upon a pearl necklace. Even if it was a fake you had to admit that the clasp and the sheen of glossy pearls were beautiful. “That one, I’ll take it,” Taemin said to the clerk when he saw you looking at the necklace. “You’ll need something old for the wedding won’t you?” He said with a conspiratorial laugh as he fastened the pearls around your neck.

“Thank you,” you said somehow touched at this least extravagant gift than all the rest today.

“Anything for my enchanting bride to be.” He said loudly enough for the clerk to hear. Taemin offered you a hand as you exited into the frosty streets and you took it gladly. It had gotten considerably colder and just when you were about to ask Taemin to hand you the new blue coat you had bought, a man with a tattooed shoulder of a vibrant rose-red she-wolf moved past. You clutched your own shoulder and shivered but not from the cold as you remembered the design of the tattoo all too well. The absence of the Scarlet Wolf Groupe resurfaced in your mind like a brand. You remembered the day long ago when you had burned it off your skin with the candle wax on your bedside table. The horror on Madame Dupont’s face when she’d found your scar was soon mended with makeup and lacy shoulder bands till the scars grew less apparent than a birthmark.

Taemin hadn't missed the look of fear that crossed your face as the man walked past. Of course, he never missed anything, you thought as you made your face blank and continued to make your way to the car. Once inside Taemin didn’t spare a minute before he said, “It’s growing more and more perilous each night in New Celes. You would think the Chittaphons would be a little more subtle about where their alliances lie. He said revving the engine.

Your head whipped toward his. “What do you mean his ally?”

“Just what I said, the Scarlet Wolf is a long-time friend of the family. They do the Chittaphon’s dirty work like the dogs they are.” Taemin said, a look of disgust marring his perfect features and sending ice toward your veins.

“It's an insane idea even for Ten to invite such mongrels to the masquerade under the guise of a truce. The Chittaphon’s seek “peace” with the beasts for the people of New Celes and wish to end their reign but it’s all a ploy to lure in the Alpha and assert their command. The leader of that rabid pack gets their money from someone we know.”

Your face paled and you couldn’t hide the panic in your voice as you said: “The Alpha is coming to the Yule Ball?”

“Yes, but don’t worry he’s not the chatty sort, he said with worry as he took his eyes off the road to assess you. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Lady Basileia.” He didn’t know how right he was. You remained silent for the rest of the ride back to the hotel.

You wanted to tell Taemin you couldn’t attend the ball but every time you did your words faltered. Going to the ball wasn’t just about you, it was for Taemin, it was for the entire scheme you had agreed to. Without your presence, it would be a nightmare for him and you would be entirely responsible. Your own voice nagged at you that it wasn’t Taemin’s safety you worried for but your own.

Telling anyone you were the daughter to the Alpha of the Scarlet Wolf would make you a bargaining chip and a dangerous one. You didn’t want to think about what Ten could do, what leverage he would gain if you were discovered. The brand on your shoulder burned again, as if alive, tying you to your past like a collar. There was no love lost between you and your father that was certain, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t want you back now. As a child you posed less of a threat, he probably thought you dead. But now if he ever knew you were still alive he would be afraid of the pack secrets you could reveal, the names you could sell and he would hunt you down without remorse.

It was a masquerade after all, a festival of hidden faces and fluttering fans with a father you haven't seen in over fifteen years. He would not recognize you. And yet even with all of these excuses in your mind, your guilt ate away at you and the string of pearls Taemin had given you seemed to constrict around your neck in reminder.

Your loud thoughts were easier to dispel in the daytime but when night fell and you found yourself seeking the quiet comfort of Taemin’s company beside yours it grew harder and harder to remain silent and even more willpower to stay still. When you heard his breathing even out into a blissful sleep some nights you would turn over and look at his peaceful face- or what you could see of it from the dim bedside candlelight. Every fiber of your being craved contact. It was as if an insatiable fire had grown alight inside you,

Your fingers ached to trace the bridge of his nose from forehead to the unique dip of his lip. But you didn’t. You lay your head upon the pillow and fell away to darkness even as your body felt aflame in its own perpetual inferno.

As the days grew closer and closer to the festival you’d had enough. You spent your nights in your own room, or else wear. You gathered money from new clients and disguised yourself with makeup and washable hair dyes. It was after the fifth night of going on in this fashion that you found Taemin in your room. It was four in the morning and you’d decided to leave your client asleep in his bed, helping yourself to a bottle of Champagne as you left. You hadn’t drunk much at all but when you saw Taemin leaning against the mantle of the fireplace as you entered your chambers you wished you had.

You set the bottle on your bedside table carefully, not meeting his eyes.

“You’re back,” he said the obvious with a thinly laced veil of anger he was trying so desperately to conceal. “You shouldn’t be out at this hour, the Scarlet Wolf patrols are always about at night-”

“Who are you to say when I should or shouldn’t be out, are you my keeper? Do you think I will owe you forever.” You said placing cash on the table beside him and pushing it toward him. “Here is a week’s worth, I’ll pay off my emblem slowly but it will be done.”

“I never asked you to pay me back! I only asked you to keep up our agreement. His voice grew louder now as he took in your wrinkled gown and the stockings you’d draped across your arm.

“Why don’t you just say what we both know is really on your mind.” You said, your voice growing heated as well. Your head felt as if it would burst and your feet were near freezing. “It hurts your pride that as your fiancee I was out hell knows where and with whom in the dead of night am I right?”

“Yes, It does bother me! I didn’t only make this arrangement for me Basileia.” He said coming closer. The light of the fire only added to the fervor in his eyes as he reached for you. One warm hand against your frigid collarbone. He pulled at the string of pearls around your neck till he found the clasp and set it loose, they fell to the floor with a clatter. His eyes meet yours as he said, “Is this Champagne life of luxuries all you desire? It bothers me to have you sleeping in another man’s bed with the present I gave you around your neck.”

You stood so still you could hardly breathe. The passion in his eyes was frightening but not in the perilous way you were used to. Taemin’s hand across your skin wasn’t suffocating as Andre’s would be if anything you wanted him to pull you closer. His eyes were filled with a word you dared not say, it was sweeter than lust, more consuming than meer obsession. And so you dangled it before you like a token in your mind. It was love; bold, bright, and hopeful, dancing in his irises like tongues of fire. “I thought..” His voice was a broken whisper now. “I thought you would be happier here.”

You were happier here with him. Happier than any time in your life. But to stay? To make the lie between you real?

“I sometimes forget this is a lie.” You said softly, motioning between yourself and him. “When you touch me I forget myself.”

He smiled then as if you had given him the world. He leaned in and whispered against your ear, “Then why not make this our reality, why pretend when we both want this? He took your hands in his “Or am I not enough?”

“You are more than enough, Taemin.” You said bringing his hands to your lips. “You’ve made me care like I never thought I could. You saw worth in me even when I looked upon myself in shame. And I will always be grateful to you but because of who I am I cannot stay in one place for long or dare to love someone.”

He extricated himself from your hands, a mask of ice was forming once more across his features, shielding his emotions away and in that moment you knew that if you didn’t tell him the truth you would lose him forever and that frightened you more than his love.

“My father is the leader of the Scarlet Wolf, Taemin. I can’t allow him to notice me if I stay too long.” His eyes widened, the shock melting his indifference. “I could never be a part of them and because I severed the ties between us he will certainly want me back if he finds I’m alive.

“Is that why you stayed at Muldale? Did you feel you had to atone for your father’s mistakes by selling yourself?” His voice wasn’t laced with pity or animosity, he looked as if he truly wanted to know. It was honestly a question you had asked yourself many times.

“No,” you said finally and he seemed a bit relieved by the answer. “My father’s sins, the Alpha’s sins, are his own. I only wanted to make a life apart from his and I made it in the best way I believed I could given my situation.”

He nodded at this, seeming satisfied that you weren't running yourself to the ground out of some twisted obligation to erase the Alpha’s blood from your veins.

“I do care for you,” You said with much more conviction this time. The words tumbled out awkwardly but that didn’t make them any less true. You felt it needed to be said aloud, if not for you then for him. For the man before you who wore his heart on his sleeve in your presence. “I want you, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.” You said, and a look of hopeful bliss crossed his features once more. He wrapped you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head as he played with the ends of your hair.

“And I suppose you were going to wait till after the masquerade when you finished dancing with death to tell me all this?” He sounded worried and so you reassured him with the same phrases you'd kept telling yourself over and over.

“He won’t recognize me, it’s been so many years.”

“It’s a bad idea, I can make up some excuse for not attending. If we go every eye will be on you. Our story is quite the talk in city gossip as it is.”

“All the more reason we must go. I won't sabotage your plans to show ourselves as a couple. Besides, the best way to hide is right under the Alpha’s nose.”

The inside of your gown scratched a bit against your skin but you had to admit it was worth it. The dress clung to your body perfectly and yet the bodice was breathable. The midnight-blue fabric swayed as you walked and the little golden stars, suns, and crescent moons sewn onto the shimmering canopy layer glowed just as brightly as the mask you wore. It was a simple mask, shaped like a butterfly.

A delicate pair of gossamer wings attached to the back of your gown and seemed to merge with your back. The wings were stunning enough that they had taken your breath away when the costume had arrived wrapped carefully in parchment in the hands of Marguerite. The girl pinned tiny flower clips into your hair and as you gazed into the long mirror in your room now you found an ethereal Faerie Queen stared back. At a light knocking on the door you turned from your reflection to open it and it was then that your heart truly caught in your throat.

Taemin had dyed his hair to a light white-blonde shade. Clips of hair the same hue cascaded down his shoulders. His eyes twinkled mischievously through the golden mask that covered half of his upper face. Golden antlers grew from the top of his mask with flowers growing from their tips and on his forehead was a crown made of leaves. His ears were pointed and a pair of wings also graced his back. A green velvet cape matched the single opera glove on his left hand as well as his pants. The ruffled white shirt with golden buttons closed to the collar granted him an air of nobility. You let out a wide smile at his choice of costume.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance Lord Oberon, King of the Forest.” You curtsied slightly and he followed your example with a smile and bow of his own.

“Likewise fair Queen Mab, Lady of Air and Darkness.” He said. Taking your hand into his gloved one and kissing the back of it.

“How in blazes did you know I would dress up as the Faerie queen of the Winter Court.” You asked him, only a little annoyed that he’d peeked at your costume.

“I didn’t I swear. Fate is really in our favor.”

“Or the Fates are against us!” you said with a laugh. “Your queen Titania is not one to be double-crossed. You’re the King of the Summer Court and a Seelie at that! However would our love survive?”

“Opposites attract My Lady, you are as lovely and cold as snow. I cannot bear to part with you. Where others may say the Unseelie bring nothing but misfortune, I see beauty in those icy veins and a heart that beats as rapidly as mine own.”

You lose it then, doubling over in laughter. “You are quite good at this.”

“I was born to appear on stage, are you really all that surprised.”

“Before we go would you help me with something.” You said, moving towards the vanity and taking the string of pearls you placed in his palm before moving your hair away from the nape of your neck. He fastened it, his hands lingering on your skin a moment longer and then he extended his elbow. You took it, entwining your arm in his. When you looked toward him you felt the rampant wave of emotions that radiated from him as he took in the pearls across your throat and your painted plum-colored lips so near yet not near enough.

When you arrived at the Chittaphon Manor you were greeted by several footmen waiting at the door. Once inside you craned your neck up to look at the high ceilings covered in paintings as you walked upon the red-carpeted marble floors. The ballroom was filled with diamond chandeliers and scented red candles that smelled of cinnamon. There were so many people dancing to the vivacious orchestra and they were all hidden under masks, even the musicians themselves were in costume. Servants bustled about in black suits and dresses with the masks of ravens carrying trays of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.

Your descent from the grand staircase had not gone unnoticed and Taemin squeezed your hand to reassure you as many eyes turned to watch you both. In spite of (or rather because of) his costume there was no mistaking Taemin or his companion. The crowd murmured as you passed and you supposed the sight of Taemin attending any party with a woman would stir up this much gossip and jealous eyes. Taemin didn’t ignore their gazes, he smiled politely as always and pulled you toward the center of the room and towards the company of your host.

You noticed Ten before he did. He was dressed in a fox mask and a red suit, looking ever the part of a depraved demon you thought. His eyes then fell upon Taemin and flicked to you. He said nothing, assessing your costume head to toe before saying, “Ah it would seem you have switched places. Forgive me but as everyone here can attest, myself included, if there were ever a faerie tyrant too bold and in possession of a stone heart it would be your prized husband-to-be mademoiselle.” Ten bowed and extended his hand, you gave him yours reluctantly but with so many eyes upon you, it was impossible to refuse him. You smiled, determined to keep your cheerful demeanor.

“I am glad we should meet again at last, Lady Basileia, though I find it a shame you did not come dressed as Hestia, or some other hearth maiden as you bring so many men warmth on these frigid winter nights.” Ten’s eyes twinkled in amusement and the meaning of his words was not lost upon you as you heard Taemin clear his throat beside you.

“And where are the rest of our hosts this evening, It would be a shame for Lady Basileia to miss them,” Taemin said.

“Mother and Father tire of these festivities easily.” Ten said, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing tray and taking a sip. “They retreated to the gambling tables as soon as the music began.”

“Young Master, I believe your guest has arrived.” Said a servant in a crow mask to Ten who then excused himself.

“I’m afraid Ten knows far too much about your whereabouts,” Taemin whispered with one hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the dance floor and closer to the orchestra and swaying figures that brushed you by.

“But he couldn’t know about anything before Madame Dupont’s, Taemin. Even the Madame herself knew nothing of where I came from.”

Just then Ten appeared in the corner of your eye again. He watched the two of you and the weight of resentment you felt from his gaze was enough to make you act rashly. If he did know anything of your past it was better to lure the truth out. Better the devil you know than die of ignorance too late.

When Taemin grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry passing on a tray you took his hand before he could eat it and moved his fingers to your mouth. The plum-colored lips that had so hypnotized Taemin before now took the fruit along with two of his fingers. Your tongue left not a trace of chocolate behind as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him and he thought he would lose his sanity as you moved closer, taking him in farther.

“What are you doing,” Taemin hissed. His voice was shaken and you gleamed triumphantly as you released him.

“Merely speeding up our reluctant enemy.” You said as you searched for Ten again amid the crowd.

He was still watching, but his gaze had turned even darker and beside him stood a man that hadn’t been there before. It was Ten’s Guest who towered beside him and he was wearing a wolf mask. Leon Sauvage, the Alpha, stood ever too close to Ten like a familiar and comfortable lapdog. You turned your gaze away immediately.

“Let’s dance,” you said. Wrapping your arms around Taemin’s shoulder and pulling him closer as if it would shield you from the Alpha’s eyes.

After a few dances, you began to feel more at ease and relaxed into Taemin’s arms allowing the music to envelop you both into a bubble of happiness that you hadn’t known had been busting inside of you. Under different circumstances, at a different party, you would have been wholly engulfed in his company.

The twist in your stomach returned all too soon however when Ten appeared behind Taemin and tapped him on the shoulder. “May I have a dance with the ravishing Queen Mab.” Ten said. When Taemin didn’t pull away from you he leaned in and said to Taemin, “It was so kind of you mon amour to decide to sing for us, truly more than I expected.”

Taemin paled at this and Ten only smirked as one of the servants announced loudly to the assembly, “And now I present Lord Lee Taemin, who will grace us with ‘Bird in a Gilded Cage’.”

“Go on, I do believe they are calling you. You wouldn't want to make a scene,” Ten said.

You nodded at Taemin to go and squeezed his hand in reassurance that you would be alright without him as he threw daggers with his eyes at Ten and walked toward the front of the crowd. When Taemin started to sing the ironically dark and sorrowful melody of a woman who wasted her youth on a man of fortune. Ten began to whirl you around the room looking ever the part of a gentleman to his many guests. But his grip on your waist and hand was like a vise.

“You’re like a dime,” you said when you couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Two-faced, and not worth my time.” He laughed at that, it was a strange laugh like none you’d ever heard. It was boyish in its charm almost innocent even though his eyes were anything but. Still, the wide smile and flashing of teeth had caught you off guard once again. He held an air of pure calculation. Everything about him was deliberate, meticulous, dangerous and beautiful in its ferality.

“Quite the handful aren't you, it's no wonder he can’t keep you for himself.” Ten said as he caught a ringlet of your hair and twirled it between his fingers. When you slapped his hand away he only grinned again then leaned in to whisper in your ear, “It matters not how many gowns and diamonds you wear, a wolf is a wolf, even in a gilded cage, even dressed in silk. And his daughter,” he said holding you tighter, “Is no exception.”

He knew then. Your heart pounded frantically as you began to race through plans of escape in your mind but Ten’s hands held too firmly to you.

“Perhaps instead of thinking about escaping me, you should start thinking about what the Alpha can do to Taemin if you don’t leave him.” His words stopped your writhing as you stared at him. “Telling the world who you are would indeed sour Taemin’s reputation but only for a time. It's simply not enough, eventually they would just say you cast a spell on him, that with your succubus charms and angelic words you stole him away from the public and his many admirers. Martyr that he is he wouldn’t oppose to gossip for your honor. What is an idol without fame but a beaten dreamer out on the streets and you know how rough that can be my dear. The fool thinks he loves you, well he can love you from his grave.” Your eyes widened as the full force of his words came to rest upon you.

“Your father is a wealthy man because of me, one word and I'll have those mutts of the Scarlet Groupe tear Taemin to pieces right before your eyes.

“Ten,” you said gripping his arms now. “If you still bear one shred of love for him, please don’t do this.”

“Oh my dear sweet vixen, he said tilting your chin up. “I won’t be the one breaking his heart, you will or else our songbird with never sing again.” And with that Ten spins you straight into your father’s arms.

“My how you've grown,” The Alpha said, as he lead you along the dance floor. You were too stunned for words to slip away. You’d forgotten the gentle rumble of your father's voice, at odds with his intimidating demeanor and brash fits of violence. You saw his eyes soften as he looked upon you and it silenced you into submission. You had always been the omega of the Scarlet Wolf, distanced from the blood-lust and ostracized from their plotting. You remembered then the last time you’d seen your father’s disappointed eyes as he’d turned away and left you in the snow. It was a show of strength, if you had come back alive from the cold it would prove your worthiness and loyalty. But you had run away, abandoning your kin just as your father had abandoned you in his heart. You firmly believed he’d never once believed you would survive that winter alone.

“When the young master told me you were still alive I could scarcely believe it. I thought it was a trick to lord over me but it wasn’t. Come back to us, there is nothing for you here.” Your father said. “There is a wildness in your eyes just as there is in mine, you do not belong in the freak show that man calls art.”

“You left me for dead! Why would I ever return? Especially now when you are nothing but a lapdog to the ringmaster and his family.”

“I prefer bloodhound,” he said his voice turning colder now. “I had the feeling you would refuse but this isn’t personal anymore it’s simple diplomacy. The young master would like you to leave New Celes and Taemin. I spoke with him and we have come to an agreement. If you leave before dawn he will meet you in the Hall of Mirrors and grant you a small fortune to live on as well as safe passage. You will not be followed out of the city.”

“And if I refuse this generous offer?”

“Well, I will have to kill Taemin upon my young master’s orders.”

“Why not just kill me then, It would save you both the trouble. You know you want to. Leaving the pack is a criminal offense in your eyes is it not?”

“As I said before personal matters are behind us but that does not mean I will enjoy seeing you die, daughter. Your mind is of no use to me anymore, the names you remember, the knowledge of the pack even. Many things have changed since then and I would rather see you off safely than have you come to harm because of the young master’s whims.”

His earnestness surprised you. You’d thought for certain he would want you dead but instead, he was bargaining for your future and safety?

“I am obliged to follow the young master’s words. It’s best you heed him or others will suffer. I’ve seen him shed more blood over less. I am merely the blade in his hands and his orders will be obeyed.” The song ended and he bowed before slipping away into the crowd.

Just then a scream cut through the ballroom and the crowd went to circle a body that had collapsed. You pushed your way through only to find a young woman on the floor. One of the candelabras had collapsed and she’d fell with it, hitting her head in the process. You would have believed it an accident if the woman had been anyone else. But there lay Valerie her delicate frame motionless in Taemin’s arms as he picked her up calling frantically all the while for a doctor. It was a message meant for you and as you met Ten’s vicious gaze you knew what would happen if you didn’t do as he wished.

“She’ll be fine, Valerie is awake now.” You said to Taemin again as you both made your way back to the hotel.

“I know’ it’s just…” Taemin let out the shaky breath he’d seemed to be holding the past two hours as they’d brought Valerie to the Chittaphon’s personal physician at Ten’s request of course. You’d watched helplessly as she began to regain her senses slowly after the physician treated her head and held smelling salts to her nose. Valerie had been groggy and complained of a gastly headache but she was otherwise unharmed and it had taken a bit of insistence on your part and Orla’s for Taemin to leave her side and get some rest.

It reminded you of the way you used to sit by Lily’s bedside while she had a fever. You’d watch over her and read to her for days until she was well. It comforted you that while you were leaving him behind Taemin wouldn’t be alone. He had a family here no matter how strange his position seemed to be he seemed to thrive amid the madness.

As you looked toward Taemin now pacing like a lion and deep in thought you wondered at the ache in your chest. Maybe you’d always worshipped things you couldn’t have and now that you had him before you, you couldn't bear to let him go.

“I saw you dancing with your father,” Taemin said breaking you from your thoughts. “I wanted to intervene but by the time I got close enough the dance had already ended and Valerie- Well I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“No it’s alright,” you said. “I wasn’t in any danger, it seems my father rather I rejoin him than kill me.” And so you proceeded to tell him of your refusal and decided it was best to say nothing of Ten’s plans.

You didn’t want him to worry, you didn’t want to spend your last hours together explaining yourself or talking him into the idea of you leaving him. Perhaps it was greedy of you to want him to yourself just a while longer, but self-denial had never been your virtue and neither had patience.

“Your song helped me push through my unease tonight,” you said coming towards him and turning. “Would you mind detaching my wings?” You said with an impish smile. “Marguerite has already gone to bed and I’d hate to wake her.”

With nimble hands he began to untie the knot at the small of your back and peeled the wings away slowly. Your back brushed against his chest and you held his gaze over your shoulder. In that moment you were reminded of the carvings in the Hall Of Mirrors that had gleamed in the sun. He was a golden angel, a graven image you dared not touch and yet you burned for him.

Taemin stood so still, frozen in place as if even a whisper would scare you away. You felt as if you were standing at the edge of a cliff with hell down below. And so you welcomed the chaos of your desire as well as its many demons. You kissed him with all the rapture of an ending world. Your tongue caught the honey of his lips your breath heavy and untamed.With every button you loosened he grew unraveled. With every tug of his hair he was conquered.

He ran his fingers through your hair sending flower pins flying as he pulled you closer. His lips sent feather-light kisses down your bare shoulder that set your heart racing. Your neck tilted back with the echo of his name on your lips and he claimed them with ravenous abandon. You’d forgotten to feel the depths of your loneliness till now. Before you survived living like a hollowed shell but now that emptiness was filled with something so sweet and new and it made you tremble. Your hands wandered across his chest as he probed your mouth with his tongue, it danced with your own in a blaze of heat and need.

You slid from your gown, loosening the fabric that caught at your ankles and guided him towards the bed. Every move you made was languorous like a slow prowl your eyes and fingers traced every new patch of skin till you reached the uneven valley of his back and halted. Taemin seemed to come out of his torrid haze in that moment as well. His body seemed to lock in on itself in dread as you moved behind him and beheld his back.

You were unable to hold in the gasp that escaped your lips and quickly you brought one hand to your mouth as if you could take it back. There along the curve of his spine and the center of his back were scars etched deep into his skin that looked as if an animal had clawed him. No not an animal but a monster you realized as you took in the unnatural pattern they left behind. The lines were shaped like a cross as they overlapped each other and in them the indisputable initial ‘T’ stood.They were whip lashings as brazen as the demon who had given them. You coiled your fists in the sheets, rage swelled within you as well as grief. It was as if Taemin’s body was an extension of your own and every slash of pain bit into your heart.

“I’m fine.” Taemin said as he wiped your tears with his thumb.

“How can you say that! How can you stay here with him watching your every move. What he has done to you is unforgivable and yet you stay. You felt sick and so very tired. Your fingers moved along the scars and Taemin allowed it. Watching you over his shoulder as if he was trying to find the words to help you understand.

“Ten was always a devil in hiding, he took what he wanted and I never questioned his behavior. I was young and so blinded by admiration and blissful ignorance. In those days he could have set the world ablaze and called it snow, heaven knows I would have believed him.” Taemin said brokenly in a whisper of shame.

“It was so easy to love his smile that even when I found out about the family business I confronted him in the hope that he wasn’t a part of it.” Taemin continued. “I could not believe that the boy who would awaken at dawn just to paint the sky and sketch portraits of me while he thought I wasn't looking was really a monster.” Taemin shook his head and took your hand in his.

“Once he found out I knew about the family business his careful mask seemed to fall around me day by day till one night Ten’s father had me sleep with the Countess Marie de Froissy. It wasn’t unusual for him to ask this of me. He often tried to further his own investments with the information the wives of stockholders and other aristocrats told me.” His eyes flicked toward you when he said this and the words Taemin had said when you first met came to your mind, ‘You and I are more alike than you know.’

It took until now to fully realize the extent of those words. You’d both grown up in two separate prisons unable to alter the lives you were given and you both had been so alone. It was then that you showed him where the mark of your kin had been on your shoulder before you’d rid yourself of the hold they had on you. What a fine pair we make.

“Ten was angry at his father and wanted to make it so that he never sent anyone to me again.” Taemin said. “I believe in his own twisted mind he probably thinks it was a gift. But I have learned to not let it define me.”

“I see that by the way you hold yourself.” You said, moving towards him and letting his arms encircle you in warmth. “With every dance and soul-filled song you've shed these scars and now wear them as wings.” You said as you moved to kiss the scars on his back stroking the lines with the tip of your tongue like a baptism as you painted it across him. He let out an unholy groan that set your skin on fire.

You pushed him down unto the silken sheets and held him captive with your lips on his again as you straddled his hips, poised upon him as if he were your throne. You trailed your hair down his chest, the strands gliding across him in slow excruciating designs; the thrust of your hips inducing a moan that mirrored your own.

You reached for the clasp at your neck, unfastening the pearls and embracing the coolness of their touch as they slid pleasurable against your palm. You took the strand in your hands and encircled the beads around his length moving them back and forth against him in a way that made him whimper and quiver, sending a rush of excitement through your veins.

And then he was there settling above you. His elbows were propped up on either side of your head and the smell of his skin, cinnamon and vanilla enthralled you again. He nestled between your legs, moving inside you with such slow, torturous, movements at first that set your body burning with insatiable hunger until suddenly you couldn’t hum to the rhythm of his hips anymore and the inside of your heavy eyelids were covered in stars.

The Hall of Mirrors was an entirely different place at night. The mirrors and statues cast queer shadows in the darkness with only the moonlight coming through the archways for light. The chandeliers chimed against each other lightly as the brisk wind of an open window brushed across them.

You wondered if the letter you’d left Taemin behind would be the first thing he would see when he woke up alone and your heart constricted at the thought. You hadn’t said much, it wouldn’t really have been a goodbye if you had but a promise of something more and you weren’t cruel enough the leave him hope that you would return. Your words were brutal and dipped in half-lies that made you want to throw the paper into the fire before he could ever read it but you hadn’t. Instead you’d dressed, grabbed your few belongings and shut the door.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Ten’s amused voice came from behind you breaking you from your trance and in the next instant you heard the door click shut. You turned to see his wolfish grin as he crossed the room towards you and placed a single candle with its stand onto a table. You gave him a glare fixed with murderous intent.

“I didn’t have much choice did I?” You responded bitterly. “Give me the money and tickets before I kill you for what you’ve done to him! I’ve seen the markings on his back, the way you branded yourself onto his skin.” Tears came to your eyes now and you let them fall you didn’t care anymore if this inhuman creature saw you wither at last for he had won and he knew it. “How can you live as if you have authority over all creation? Is everything a game to you?”

“Ahh yes, those tokens of my love. Tell me, when you kissed his scars and traced my name across his back are you sure it was your face he saw as you slept with him or mine.” His eyes gleamed in the candlelight with such perverse pleasure that you could hold back no longer.

You flew at him with hands and teeth. Clawing at his perfect features with your nails as if he had released some rabid thing inside of you. A maniacal storm unleashing itself as you let your repulsion, your hatred, overtake you. You had sworn never to use the abilities of your kin again but your anger took over and with it the bloodlust.

You felt a surge of strength flow through you and with one swift motion, your nails raked across Ten’s face. He screamed, pushing you away with such force that you crashed into one of the mirrors. You covered your face with your arms as you fell to the floor, glass shattering around you. Then Ten was there pinning you down as he sat against your thighs, his hands grabbing at your throat. You felt the blood from his wound dripping across your face as he leaned over you. You’d missed his eye but just barely, the slashes around it had gone deep.

You could feel your strength waning as it always had before, one moment there then gone. You cursed yourself for your lack of power in a body so wasted away since birth that it only ever held a spark of ability unlike the rest of your kin who quaked with it.

“What’s the matter, runt? Was that all you could do? Ten taunted. He pulled at the pearls on your throat till it snapped sending a shower of beads across the floor amid broken glass.

“I meant it when I said this room wouldn’t hold your wedding. It was meant for something far greater: your funeral.’’ Ten said as he grabbed a shard of glass from the floor and drew it towards your chest. Just as suddenly a shadow swept into the room through the open window at an inhuman speed coming between you and the glass.

You screamed as the Alpha’s vest started to soak in blood. The shard had gone right to his heart and you held his hand in shock as his face grew paler.

“I couldn’t fail you a second time.” Your father said, his eyes meet yours and you knew then that no matter what had happened in the past, he had missed you. The Alpha let out a clear whistle with his last breath before falling limp in your arms. You shook him in disbelief. The strongest person you knew was dead.

It wasn’t long before Ten was surrounded by men and women in scarlet cloaks and furs. In response to the call of their leader and in a rage over their Alpha’s lifeless body they descended upon Ten like a pack of wolves in earnest till he lay across the marble floor, eyes dull and wide.

The members of the scarlet wolf gathered their leader’s body with careful hands and pulled you to the open window. It was only then that you heard the shout of Ten’s guard as you were whisked away from the scene by a family you thought you had left behind forever.

#Taemin #taemin fanfic #taemin imagines #taemin smut #SHINee fanfic #taemin au #ten fanfic #Taemin circus au #My writing #taemin fanfiction

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pastelgrungewrecker · 4 years

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Lucille Fur, Culture Icon || Shattered Glass

[A paid Commission gifted to @lesbian-brainstorm]

And once the water starts to rise And Heaven's out of sight She'll want the Devil on her team...

Perceptor laughed gently, crystal glass in her hand held by the tips of too-long golden nails like gilded razors as Brainstorm rolled her eyes and nudged the fellow madame scientist.

“You’re being watched, dear.”

Perceptor glanced over her bare shoulder to see a shock of red over unhidden dark circles and too bright blue eyes.

A smile.

“Let them watch. I always love a good chase.”

The whispers started slowly, and then all once- the grandiose figure of the Mad Mod Medic herself, the Autobot CMO Extraordinaire, the first surgeon in their medical history to have a 700% fatality rate during a field training exercise, the Personal Doctor of mighty Optimus Prime and the Grandest of Betrayers as she stole away on this ship with the rest of them.

[“My retirement.”, she’d called it in a smooth honeywhiskey purr, sipping a neat bourbon with hands worn by ages of scrubbing away blood and gore, “A little... Vacation. Stir the old synapses, kickstart the nerves and all that.”]

Perceptor sipped something just strong enough to relax her, noting the flickering flakes of gold hovering within it before the smell of cigarsmoke and sanitizer hovered almost too close.

“Fancy seeing a pretty little thing like you here.”, purred the CMO’s husky voice gently in Perceptor’s ear as Brainstorm threw her hands up dramatically before ghosting away from them, “Have you decided to become a pretty little butterfly for my collection?”

“Come now, Ratchet-”, cooed Perceptor with a coy giggle, “Half the fun is the rush to catch me and you know it.”

“Can’t blame me for trying- you look delightful when you’re spread out for me-”

A giggle interrupts the medic, and a peculiar flash of something in Perceptor’s eye makes goosebumps rise under Ratchet’s silken sleeves.

“Interesting- Drift said much the same...”

Shoulders shaking with titillating little giggle and Perceptor sashayed away, to the darker areas of this obnoxious “post-war peace talk” they had become embroiled in. Ratchet’s eyebrows tilted down, immediately enraged at the idea of her preferred ‘darling’ being in someone else’s arms- before she paused, and smiled almost sharkishly.

“I see.”

The pair of them lived for the chase after all. Sly glances at each other with just this side of too much distance to keep watch on the way they orbited each other- Ratchet acquiesced, she had been too.... Forward, to be sure; why, what is the fun, making such things known so soon in the night?

The circles they both ran in would cross paths, it was only a matter of time after all- Xaaron, in his self-absorbed foolishness and a hand hovering over Perceptor’s lower back as he sneered the introductions, as is customary.

Xaaron, scoffing in shock and distaste as he was brushed aside by the CMO only to watch Ratchet catch Perceptor’s ring-decorated hand in her own and bring the knuckles to chapped lips laced in bourbon and silvergilded words.

“Charmed to meet you again, Madame Macabre.”

“Likewise, Medical Officer Ratchet, sir.”

“How obscene.”, hissed Xaaron, crossing his arms but quailing under the frigid glare he received from Ratchet.

“Be quiet, desk jockey, or I’ll be taking those vocal cords and stashing them in a jam jar.”, was the flat threat, delivered in a fully audible tone and sending ripples of snickering out like the waves made by a pebble dropped in a pond.

Ratchet returned her gaze to Perceptor, gently pulling at the hand in her grip, “Now, dearest deathdealer- why not forgo the stuffy lawthumper and come along with me? Surely I can be... more interesting company.”

Perceptor’s cheeks brightened, even under her scarring, and she coyly turned away from the medic’s wicked and thin-lipped smile as a thick lock of hellfire red slid free of the doctor’s impeccably kept style to hang over one blue eye.

“I daresay I’ll take you up on the offer, Doctor.”, cooed the scientist turned sniper turned back again, “Medics always have the most trustworthy reccomendations, after all.”

Ratchet couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her, an arm sliding around Perceptor’s waist in an act of gently lewd gallantry as the medical officer led the scientist away- the sound of a too-pristine doctor’s coat mixing with the quiet hiss of silk over scarred skin in a barely audible symphony.

And along they went; slinking through the crowd and talking low between themselves as Ratchet’s hand went from Perceptor’s waist to the swell of a hip with a teasing squeeze of the firm figure to make the sniper chuckle from the ticklish sensation- and Perceptor moved closer and hooked a finger in Ratchet’s coat pocket before whispering, “Lead the way, love.”

Ratchet’s hab hadn’t changed much except location- still dressed in the low colors and tones of their old quarters from days gone by and ages long forgotten; a few art pieces hung on the walls, furniture draped in satin or leather and the lights frosted and kept low and dim enough to worry a lesser mortal.

Perceptor strode in, all black and violet silk and low slung seams and once more glanced over a bare shoulder; feeling the way Ratchet’s eyes traced over the line of the sniper’s spine.

“And may I ask why you’re standing on parade, darling?”, said Perceptor, sly and coy and temptation at its finest, “Now that you’ve lured the damselfly into the web, act fast- we only ever last the day~”

“Oho, I quite vividly remember you lasting far beyond a single day, sugar.”, laughed Ratchet as the door chimed a note to signal it locking from the inside. Perceptor shivered as she heard the sound of a doctor’s coat being tossed aside, the hiss of a silk tie being untied.

And then Ratchet’s voice was at Perceptor’s ear again.

“Comparing me to Drift, really. How could you, sweetheart- my poor ol’ pride...”

“I can hear the Vaporex in your voice.”

“Mm, you always did like it when I dropped those med school pretenses, as you called them.”

Perceptor leaned back, feeling Ratchet’s unbuttoned shirt folded closed against her own back and huffed- she wanted skin on skin, already tired of being teased and then something slipped around her wrists.

Perceptor cursed softly, having forgotten the slyness of her partner in their games of cat-and-mouse and looking down to see a dark silk tie looped around wrists.

Ratchet chuckled low, dark and dangerous and hungry, “Someone got a little sure of herself.

“I suppose I’m out of practice with you, Ratchet.”, said Perceptor easily, shifting her shoulders so that the contact between their bodies helped the silk dress she wore slide free and fall to catch at bent elbows. Ratchet hissed a breath, and Perceptor smiled.

“Come now love- you know open back gowns look terrible when I wear something under them.”, said Perceptor airily as Ratchet’s rough lips pressed against a bare but scarred shoulder, “And I know you don’t have the patience to unwrap me tonight.”

“...You make a lovely point. But oh, such an attitude you’ve gotten on you! I’ve half a mind to take you over my knee~”

“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time, now.”

Perceptor yelped softly as she was turned and nudged back to drop in a heap of silk and shown skin onto a couch that no doubt cost more than some of her modifications. Ratchet laughed, a wicked and hungry sound and Perceptor’s face flushed even as she grinned with eye alight.

Her hands moved to drape back over the edge of the back of the couch, tie dangling from where it secured her wrists with a slipknot- and her heeled shoes clicked softly as her legs opened to welcome Ratchet to stand between them.

“How lewd, Ratchet-”, murmured Perceptor, her skin already feeling too warm as the CMO knelt down, “Tossing me upon the couch with intent to flip back my skirts? Goodness gracious, whatever will the rest of them think?”

“Worried over your honor, dear?”, teased Ratchet as she indeed pushed Perceptor’s gown skirt up over smooth legs before humming in appreciation, “Apparently not, if this lace-and-lovely is the norm for you.”

Perceptor wriggled with a mischievous grin as Ratchet’s work-roughened hands worked over soft skin, “Oh, no- that was just a special treat for you.”

“I love how your mind works, Percy.”

The sound of silk being torn, and Perceptor yelping “RATCHET!”

The medic rolled her too-blue eyes as the torn gown fell open, sliced through with a scalpel the woman had pulled from who knew where but set up a side table, “You look better in gold and red anyway, love- You know I’ll find you something nicer to replace it with.”

A huff, “Sometimes I do wonder if you just want me wearing ‘your’ colors, Doctor.”

“You caught me.”

Perceptor opened her mouth to make a witty retort but Ratchet was pressing warm kisses to a scar dotted stomach and already the sniper was rocking her hips in a demand for heavier petting. She felt a brief touch of teeth and then the lace she wore over hips was caught and being pulled away while Ratchet’s hands were still digging knowing fingertips into muscles made tense from walking in too-high heels.

Ratchet’s lips once again went back to leaving behind bruising kisses like old rose petals over Perceptor’s thighs as a hand left the sniper’s soft figure; hooking a finger in the lingerie eased away by teeth to tug it further down.

A wriggle and a squirm and Perceptor laughed as it was swiftly removed from around ankles still trapped in the straps of heeled shoes and tossed aside to be forgotten.

“Going to have me kick off my shoes and prepare for a party?”, sassed Perceptor, hoping her voice didn’t come off as too breathless to save the charm of her witty remark.

“Mm... I much rather the idea of you bare aside from those cheeky heels of yours...”, purred Ratchet, moving to grip Perceptor’s hips and tug her closer- glancing from side to side as the snipers heeled shoes moved to rest against the medic’s back.

“Oh, you ARE feeling naughty tonight, aren’t you.”, cooed Perceptor, “I like it.”

“I know.”

Perceptor wanted to comment on the smug tone of those two words but Ratchet had other ideas- ideas that involved nipping gently at dark kissmarks and trailing the contact lower and lower as Perceptor pulled at the trailing end of the tie cinching her wrists together.

“O-oh m-MY!”

Ratchet grunted quietly, feeling the heels dig into her back through the too-well-kept shirt she wore before a quick movement of her shoulders let it begin to slide from her frame; her hands left Perceptor for only a moment to pull it away and let it fall in a puddle of high-end fabric and shiny buttons on the floor before her tongue flicked out over a swollen clit and made Perceptor shriek at the Devil’s pitch as her back arched.

“So sensitive....”, purred Ratchet, nuzzling into Perceptor’s thigh as the sniper panted already, “Someone’s pet mercenary must not be able to last long enough.”

“Hmph!”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Lucky for you, sweetheart, the Doctor’s in.”

A giggle through the blush, “Oh, you are AWFU-u-ngh!!!”

One of Ratchet’s hands slid away from Perceptor’s to-perfect hips to slide one finger slowly, carefully, between slick lips as the sniper groaned weakly; her body clenching down on the digit only for her to shudder as Ratchet curled the finger with a smile.

“We’ll take it slow, just for fun.”

“Y-You TEASE!”

“You know it.”, murmured Ratchet against Perceptor’s thigh before one finger became two, before a silver tongue came once more into play and the CMO played her partner’s synapses like an orchestral piano- every touch and tease pulling forth clarion sharps and fulls as Perceptor writhed and arched and drummed her heels against Ratchet’s now mostly bare back.

Ratchet gave a dirty hum of enjoyment, pausing in her ministrations only to lick her bitten lips clean before setting back to it with a gusto- an amused noise escaping her when Perceptor’s thighs suddenly snapped shut around her head and made her vision swim a little from the force.

The sniper’s hips rocked out of time and tempo as she whimpered and wailed Ratchet’s name, pleading for her not to stop, to never stop untilt he sniper’s legs shook and dropped open again, slipping from Ratchet’s shoulders as the heeled shoes tilted and turned from the Perceptor’s toes trying to curl while encased in patent leather.

Ratchet’s hand was sticky and saturated to the wrist, and she hadn’t bothered to count the times Perceptor’s shrieking had peaked and broken in succession but hearing the rapid two-time tattoo of the sniper whispering “Please!” in delicious desperation made the CMO’s eyes darken as she smiled from where she knelt.

She withdrew her hand, giving a gentle kiss to Perceptor’s stomach even as the sniper howled in angry desire before Ratchet loomed over her, grinning her manic grin and her blue eyes alight like glaciers over the moonrise.

“So much for only a day, darling?”, she cooed, leaning down enough for Perceptor’s still bound wrists to hook around her neck. She laughed, easily working her hands under Perceptor’s slim frame and hoisting her up into a bridal carry.

A hungry kiss between the pair of them as they retreated from the front room to the berthroom- leaving behind a hapahazardly piled dress shirt and a bit of barely there lace.

Before the berthroom door fully closed, a torn silk gown was tossed through the door way to flutter down tot he floor; followed by the door clicking shut and Perceptor’s high and wavering voice sounding out once again as Ratchet easily kept her on a knifeblade edge.

#pastelwrites #tf #ladyformers #shattered glass #perceptor #ratchet #paid work

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kurtty-drabbles · 4 years

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Ocean au (Harvey Dent part 5)

N/A: This is the last chapter, no, there´s one last but I can count that one as epilogue so in a sense, this is the last one.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @djinmer4 @bamfoftheundead @muninandhugin

Cheating is not exactly a novel concept and New Gotham has its fair share of cheating- as much in the love department as in every other section of life- even Felicia Hardy was cheated by an ex-lover before joining into the masked club of New Gotham-a case that makes her laugh as she´s the wife of a billionaire and is living more than well- but the point remains, everyone was cheated in New Gotham at some point, nonetheless, only MJ took such drastic changes once it happened to her.

In a way, MJ thought to flip the coin with a coy smile, this is all thanks to Columbina...what if my ex decided to sleep with another woman instead of Kitty? Would I have been here today?

The most likely scenario would have been a divorce and heartbreaking-she knows still a very good lawyer-but, the thing of what-ifs -all its beauty and ugliness aside- no matter what she conjures in her mind, she still has to face with reality.

"MJ" the woman stop flipping the coin and press the comcon to communicate freely- no one in New Gotham would bat an eye if she starts talking seemingly to no one, but, she´s a good actress and like to be prepared to every ridiculous situation-and take her cellphone, already turn off, to pretend to speak with. "You´re getting like a stalker, little boy" MJ teased and her eyes flick to the nearest skyscraper with a smug on her pretty face.

"MJ. I´m not a stalker" SpiderBoy states still nervous and she can sense the tone in his voice and can even imagine his expression. "I´m not a fan of this plan...I would prefer if we used Columbina for this...she´s the one with experience with creepy things" there´s a hint of malice here and MJ bites her inner cheek for a moment and let's go as she starts walking.

"Well, tiger...the thing is...I offer myself to the job, and what you think or approve doesn´t really matter right now. My last husband...always tried to control me in some way, MJ doesn´t do this...don´t wear that" she pauses to exhales. "Wanna know how this story ends?"

"You found someone much better? I know a guy who works in the News Gotham who has a thing for red hairs his name starts with Peter.." SpiderBoy jokes and MJ chuckles at that and even if he couldn´t see- no, he can see her just fine. She knows it and for the time being, won't see this as creepy, only for tonight. She wonders about his powers that sometimes are too based on spiders and not based on spiders at the same time.

"No, tiger...he cheated on me. The woman found out he was married warm me and together we take him down" and MJ adds softly. "that woman is Columbina"

"Don´t you hate her?"

"At first...a little, but, my anger and the blame is direct only to my ex. So, when I say I chose to do this, tiger, you listen and offer me support and not criticism or nagging, got it?"

"Yes, madam!"

________________________________________________________________________________________

Dark Claw prior to delivering the coin to MJ was sure the said coin was magic or has some eccentricity about it-yet, the coin has no SCP´s abilities and nothing magical of the sort, just a regular coin that is held with affection by a new killer- and now watches on his screen- installed on his batmobile- as MJ is doing her round and tossing the coin in the air and doing all she can to show the object.

"So, this is the batmobile? Cool, can I drive next time?" Columbina asked looking around -Sparrow is not present as she´s leading the Young Blood, Polaris is helping in some mission regards T.I but still considers herself a neutral part- and Dark Claw only groans as his answer is curt as possible. "No, only I drive the batmobile and ...I saw how you drive, that´s a big no"

"Would be amazed if I told you Ryder said the same thing?"

"How long you knew he is Nightcreeper?"

"For a long while. I like to troll him here and there...he has no idea who am I, right?"

"He has a theory that you´re either a fae" Columbina chuckles at that and Dark Claw offers a ghost of a smile. "and another theory is that you´re trickest who never tells the truth about its origin"

Columbina blinks at this. Her eyes are owlish and she even takes off her cowl. "Is he always superstitious?"

"Always! but I think knowing the SCP allows some justification to his fears"

________________________________________________________________________________________

Nightcreeper is fully changed now. Watching MJ on the other side - SpiderBoy is very obvious about his feelings towards MJ and Nightcreeper is many, many things, but, not a hypocrite so he´ll not mention this or rather, he doesn´t have the mind to mention- his golden eyes inspect the surrounders as he´s jumping from roof to roof, to gothic structure to another and while giving off a very annoying and dangerous laugh.

The type that makes SpiderBoy want to shoot a web into his mouth- and Nightcreeper came up with several dirty jokes about such idea- the man is still somewhat sane-a a bit debatable- to spot a man with a scarred face approaching MJ with clearly bad intentions.

So bad intentions even a lunatic as Nightcreeper can see it.

"Spidey...our guest arrives," Nightcreeper said and didn´t wait to see his reaction or the others as Nightcreeper is contacting Columbina. "Scarface is here...Columbina"

Her voice is soothing- the situation is not warrant something soothing, but, Nightcreeper needs to say, at least in his own mind, how her voice is firm, yet, peaceful...so similar to a certain someone- "Got it, Kurt stay out, for now, keep watching"

"Sounds kinky...wait, what did you call me?" he asked and Columbina passed the conversation to Dark Claw who is giving the instructions.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Two-Face is pissed, maybe even more than in his nights of cleaning the city, and his movements are erratic and unhinged as humanly possible until he spots MJ tossing his coin- there´s no doubt this was his coin, what better coin to flip than his own?- and all the man can see is red. Literally in this case.

"You stole my coin?" he gets a knife- MJ is more than happy, guns are hard to deflect and not her specialty, but, knives? Oh, she knows how to deal it-"give me back or die?"

"Uhm, finders keepers, my friend" and MJ toss the coin again and asks one question. "but I´m more than willing to return this to you if you answer me this: Why you need this coin so much?"

"What good killer would I be...without my coin? I need it to clean the city" and the conversation is deemed over as Two-Face is charging at MJ, however, knives are her thing and she managed to dodge and with few good moves and hits manages to get rid of his knife.

Two-Face now draws a gun. And now Nightcreeper and SpiderBoy show up and the fight begins. Columbina arrives as well and it wasn´t needed to protect MJ at well.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Dark Claw observes the subdued Two-Face and isn´t needed to be the best detective to see who he really is. "Harvey Dent?" Columbina asked and her eyes meet with the insane pair of golden eyes of Nightcreeper. "So, Ryder was right this whole time?" SpiderBoy scoff and says is nothing but a mere lucky guess.

Nightcreeper is trying to pay attention to Columbina.

"I run the test, the beauty of technology" Dark Claw muses fondly "it seems Harvey Dent was poisoned by one of Hyena´s old venoms" Nightcreeper is piping in the conversation. "So, that´s why the Hyena is so silent?"

"Maybe, maybe not. He´s not very careful with the poison he makes...still, how Harvey Dent enters in contact with it is something I need to know." And Dark Claw now inquiry one thing from Columbina. "You were in his house, did you saw anything suspicious?"

"Aside from him having a painel with photos of now dead criminals and another where he give horns to Ryder? Is pretty normal, typical place in New Gotham"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Columbina and Nightcreeper are away from the police and the media- Dark Claw is merciful to not let people know Harvey is behind the murders because it seems the man wasn´t in control of his actions- MJ and SpiderBoy are also there- Spidey seems a bit reluctantly in accepting the credit for a job MJ did(but, the best spy is the one no one would ever saw coming) and MJ is a great actress to pretend to be a hopeless victim Spidey saved.

"You were much needed in this plot" Nightcreeper speaks now with a big grin on his face.

"Yeah, I help a little but you heroes can do the rest without me...Kurt, don't you want to let people see you as Nightcreeper?" Columbina asked and Nightcreeper is about to laugh- a louder one and one that would make all eyes be on their figures- when Columbina tap his mouth with her hand.

He still laughs and she can feel the vibration. "Ryder...who do you think is behind this mask?" she points to her own mask.

"Who is Ryder?"

"You, your face is the same. The face is the same and I know you´re Kurt Ryder for a long while...wanna know how? Because I´m a fae!"

"REALLY?" Nightcreeper asked with fear and awe in his eyes laced with his usual insanity.

"No, just regular detective work..." and she removes the mask to show her face. "Hi, Kurt...I´m not a fae. Just Kitty"

#Ocean au #Harvey Dent has no power here but is evil and cunning #Kurt Ryder #Kitty Pryde #Kurtty #She knows #She Knew this whole time #Kurt Ryder got trolled

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