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cosmic-has-moved · 1 year

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Rehired [Chapter 3]

Ao3 Version: [HERE]

Different day, same antics at the same usually hours. It was chaotic yes, but it always has been to the point it was regular.

Everyone at the studio was doing their usual thing, writing, singing, drawing.

Except Audrey, who was on another errand run for Susie who since morning has been completely ignoring yesterday's incident. She would be lying to herself if she said it didn't bother her, but Audrey knew better than to argue at early hours.

"Run along now, my little angel~"

She hated how much the actress saying that made her stomach flutter. She also hated how much she was hesitating to speak up about her feelings to her.

The artist had been tasked to collect misplaced voice scripts for the actress and give them to her, they should really have folders for these things.

After collecting them all while chatting to other staff she comes across to keep her sanity, lord forbid she loses that. She made her way to the elevator to drop off the papers, hoping to finally speak to Susie about their relationship.

While waiting for the doors to open, Allison walked up next to Audrey and they both greeted each other with a smile.

"Are those voice scripts you're collecting?" She asked gesturing to the pile. "Did they get misplaced again?"

"Yup" Audrey answered, "They should really put these in folders, that way I wouldn't have Susie making me run around for them." She chuckled quietly to herself.

"Susie?" Allison blinked in surprise, "Susie Campbell? She works here as well?"

The elevator doors opened to reveal Susie standing inside of it, arms crossed with a bored expression. Until the two saw each other in mirrored shock, Allison's being one of surprise while Susie's was anger.

It had only now occurred to Audrey upon the two looking at each other, did she ever think about Alice's two voice actor's relationships towards each other. She quietly panicked as she followed Allison into the small elevator, the air immediately densing up as the doors closed.

"You" Susie harshly whispered while glaring at miss Pendle.

Allison looked down at Susie, a look of guilt and remorse on her face as Susie clenched her fist. "Susie, I-"

Susie cut her off, "Are you here to steal my voice acting role again?!" She pointed an accusing finger at Allison, who didn't even flinch at the outburst.

Audrey tried to slip away but was stopped by Susie who grabbed her arm tightly, hating that the touch nearly made her groan in need.

"I'm not here to do such a thing, Susie." Allison got closer to them and gently held Audrey's shoulder, "Let her go and I'll explain, okay?"

The actress's grip got tighter on the artist's arm that she gasped in pain, "Oh no, my little errand girl is staying right here." She tugged to lower the artist to her level and smirked, "Right, honey?"

Audrey could barely respond probably as her heart was racing and her brain was going all over the place, "Yes, ma'am." Her face blushed faintly.

A frown grew on Allison's face, "You're still dragging others around as your errand runners?" She forcefully removed Susie's hand from Audrey before stepping between them. "But besides that, this is between us, Susie."

Susie glared up at the older woman and crossed her arms, "I personally like to have witnesses around for when I am about to murder someone." She gripped onto Allison's shirt collar. "And I want her to hear what you have to say for yourself about replacing me."

Allison swiftly kicked her foot back to press a floor button, causing the elevator to finally move. "Now I understand why she was sick yesterday." She mumbled to herself while her face shifted back to remorse. "Just let me explain, Susie."

As the elevator doors opened upon reaching the selected floor, Allison motioned to the artist to leave, which she happily did to Susie's frustration.

Audrey didn't even look back as she powered walked back to her office, still unknowingly holding onto Campbell's scripts. Only ever realising after she sat down at her desk in a huff and looked down at the papers, cursing to herself for not just giving them to her.

Placing them down on her desk and straightening herself out, Audrey slammed her head on the wooden desk with a thud. Her screams of frustration muffled by the furniture, before she slowly lifted her head up and rested her chin there.

"Maybe I should have stay with Allison. Susie might actually kill her for all I know, but maybe she isn't capable to do so?"

The artist gripped her head as a painfully sharp headache began approaching, was this from the lack of sleep or something else?

Rolling her head to face the window and look at the cloudy skys, Miss Drew sighed. She thought about Bendy and how he's coping while she's at work dealing with so much drama, drama that she never really told him about.

She thought back to yesterday and how he showed concern for her, does he always worry while she's gone? Does he get lonely? Maybe she shouldn't leave him alone too much, maybe using her vacation days would help.

"I hope Bendy is doing okay, staying his usual happy self while playing with his trains." She mumbled to herself while a tired smile formed on her face. "Perhaps I should take him to the ink world again so he could play with the others, it's been a while and I'm afraid he gets lonely a lot. Yeah that sounds nice..." Her eyelids became heavy as she tried to fight off sudden weight of sleep.

When she next woke she found that there was a cup of coffee in front of her face, the warmth nearly causing her to fall back asleep. Sitting up and stretching before grabbing the fresh cup, she had wondered who left it there and more importantly, where was Miss Campbell's scripts?

Turning in her chair to examine the room, she was surprised to see both Allison and Susie speaking to each other while looking over the missing scripts. No battle wounds or torn clothing on them or anything, it was a shocker.

"Thank you for the coffee." The artist spoke out after taking a sip of beverage getting the two's attention, the hot taste easing her nerves.

Allison walked over to her and smiled, "It's nothing, dear. We're just sorry you had to see that earlier, we have talked it out and there's no ill will between us now." She looked over at Susie, "Isn't that right, Susie?"

The actress faked a smirked and replied sarcastically, "We indeed did, pet."

Sighing from the response but knowing it's the best she could get, Allison sat next to Audrey on her desk. "I hope it wasn't too awkward for you."

"Honestly." The girl chuckled, "It wouldn't be the first time I was in between two people being bitter towards each other, perhaps I attract it."

"Oh just blame Allison." Susie suddenly stood next to Audrey that it startled her, "It was her choice to work here." She said before walking passed them towards the door.

"I didn't even know you worked here, yet alone even know that you returned to voice Alice Angel again." Miss Pendle crossed her arms. "And who tried to prevent her from leaving again?"

Waving a dismissive hand at the woman, Susie opened the door and looked back at them. "Whatever you say." She looked over at Audrey and blew at kiss towards her, making the poor girl turn red. "See you later, pet~" That's when she left the room and closed the door.

Letting out a short sigh and looking down at the other, Allison grabbed a chair and sat next to her. "I must say, you chose an interesting woman as your partner."

Audrey froze and her face turned red, "Partner? As in girlfriend?" She asked in a panic. "Susie's my girlfriend?!"

Quickly realising her mistake and holding her hands up to calm the girl down, "You two aren't? I just assumed based on how she acted towards you."

Audrey quickly shook her head, "We're just work colleagues! Is that how we're viewed?"

Allison laughed nervously, "I mean, I have been told you accompany her quite a lot by other animators. How long has she been so." She paused for a moment to think of the proper word, "Flirtatious towards you?"

The question caused Audrey to bite her bottom lip, "Around the time we first met. I didn't even know she was being flirty, just being extra friendly." She crossed her arms in a hold. "I even thought my feelings were making me over think it..."

"So you do like her? Romantically?" Allison asked before leaning close, taking a mental note of Audrey's sudden change in mood.

"I guess so." The artist looked down at the floor in deep thought. "I haven't experienced falling in love before, so it's all so new to me."

Leaning back in her chair and continuing, Audrey looked out the window. "Does being in love involve constantly craving their presence? Melting as soon as they touch you? Losing sleep because all that appears is their face?" She looked back at Allison with a blank expression, "Does it involve becoming someone new?"

Miss Pendle shifted her gaze to the ground in thought before looking back at Audrey, "You mentioned how you never fell in love before, how far does that go? Have you ever had a first kiss or even been on a date?" She held her hands together and rested them over her lap. "Of course you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable to."

Thinking back through her life so far, Audrey tried to remember a single time she had experience such feelings or even been put in a romantic experience.

There was a time during her school years that a few asked her out, but she rejected them due to no interest in them.

Her first heart skip was Susie, her first kiss was Susie. But why her?

"It's Susie." She answered, "But I don't know why." The same headache returned but faintly.

"Can I try something, Audrey?" Allison asked and scooted closer to Audrey after receiving a nod, her hands slowly raising to the girl's face and gently holding it.

She flinched at first at the touch and closed her eyes shut but quickly loosened up, her face nestling into Allison's hands as a needy sigh slipped through her lips.

The same lips that felt another pair press up against them, the touch making Audrey's eyes to snap open and push Allison away in surprise, her hands covering her mouth while staring wide eyed at the other who shared the same expression.

"What about that didn't you like?" Allison asked while scooting away, clear embarrassment in her gestures.

"It wasn't Susie's lips!" Audrey angrily threw her hands up before realising what she said and proceeded to bury her face into her palms, Allison hesitantly patting her back. "But I also didn't hate it..."

"I want to kiss you again, but I also want the kiss to be from Susie." The artist groaned loudly in frustration and removed her hands from her face. "What's wrong with me?"

Looking at her in sympathy, Allison could only answer with what might help.

"Tell her how you feel" She smiled at her to assure her, "With how affection she's appears to be towards you, she could be in the same boat as you."

Audrey smiled at her and gave her a hug which she returned, "Thank you again, Allison."

Chuckling to herself while patting the girl's hair, Miss Pendle sighed happily. "It's all about honesty, it's what makes problems and relationships heal." Her gaze shifted away from Audrey. "I just wish Joey took it to heart."

Lifting her head up after remembering something and looking at Allison, she asked her a question that had been nagging her.

"How did you know Joey Drew was my father? I only knew about that information about two months ago."

"That pin you have, it was something he made himself and only showed to people he trusted. I was one of those people." She stood up off the chair and put the chair back. "I'm honestly surprised that he has a child, he never really appeared to be a loving husband or father type of person."

"But now that I look at you after figuring it out. You're a splitting imagine of him, you have his eyes and hair." She crossed her arms, "It's a funny coincidence that you work at your own father's studio without his involvement."

"I" Audrey began before laughing softly, "I guess that makes sense." She sighed in relief. "It seems we both have a strong fascinating with Bendy, perhaps I unconsciously knew about him and that's why I became hooked."

"Perhaps, but we might never know." Allison added before continuing, "But I must ask, do you know your mother or?"

"Oh" Audrey thought for a few seconds to think of a logical answer, not wanting to reveal that her mother might've been the ink machine. "I never knew my mother, not even sure she's alive to be frank. I was mostly in an orphanage for as long as I could remember."

She tried to continue speaking, but harsh memories stopped her and Allison could tell.

Placing a hand on the artist's shoulder, she reassured her. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." As Audrey slowly nodded, she stood up off the chair than walked over to the door and opened it. "But other than that, I'll leave you to it. Take care, Audrey."

They waved at each other as she left and closed the door, leaving the artist alone in the room.

Audrey sat at her desk feeling a small burden fall off her shoulders.

___

After finishing her shift and making her way home after getting off the train, Audrey began thinking about Bendy again.

Was it really right to just put him in the ink world when she had time to? Does he feel lonely without her in both the apartment and ink world?

A huge wave of guilt washed over her. Audrey had always wanted to bring the little guy to work with her, but the fear of what the world would do to him lingered all over her.

She had to keep him safe.

Walking into the apartment complex and taking the stairs up to the needed floor, Audrey walked into her home and greeted Bendy who was no where in sight.

"Bendy?" She called out slightly concerned as she wondered around. "You better not be in the washing machine again."

Suddenly to her absolute horror, Bendy in his ink demon form crawled out of the bathroom on the ceiling, eating what looked to be one of her clothes.

Jumping up and grabbing onto his horns, Audrey glared at him. "Get down right this instant, young man!"

The demon only replied with a snarl before climbing down to the floor and allowing the young woman to safety stand back on the floor, his voice speaking in the usual distortion. "You took forever!"

"I know and I'm sorry..." She sighed in guilt, holding his head in reassurance. "I was just caught up with work and other stuff, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Sitting on the floor and crossing his arms as his body slowly shrunk , he growled a response. "I just don't want to feel alone..." He hugged her, "But I also know that you can't risk leaving your work or taking me with you."

Audrey held him in her arms as he finally shifted back to his toon form. "I've been thinking about how lonely it must be here for you, buddy." She walked over to the couch and plopped him down next to her. "And it just feels wrong leaving you in the ink world as well."

The toon looked up at her and rubbed his teary eyes. "So maybe, I should get you a little buddy to keep you company while I'm gone?" She smiled as his eyes lit up. "You want me to get us a pet?"

His rapid nodding made her giggle as she patted his head, "Okay then, any type you have in mind? Like a cat, dog or a lizard?"

Bendy looked around the room in thought before running over to the bookshelf, getting out a book with a cartoon cat on it. It was decided.

"A cat? Okay, buddy." She watched him run back to her and jump back on the couch, "I'll go get you a friend tomorrow, but you gotta look after them, okay?"

Audrey giggled as he happily nodded and did a salute pose, "Alright, little guy." She picked him up and stood up off the furniture. "Now let's get you some real food and put you to bed."

Bendy silently laughed before hugging her tight. She had a very good feeling for the up coming days.

#Cosmic FanFic #fanfic #fanfiction #Rehired AU #toon bendy #ink demon #susie campbell #allison pendle #audrey drew #batdr audrey #batim #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival

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itlivesproject · 2 years

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Daily Anon Chronicles chapter four (writing the cjapter number coz i literally had to replay ch 3😭)

Again everyone on edge except MC is Coping so yay for that ig

MY PERSONALITY IS STILL GENUINE AND I KINDA GOT TRIGGERED BY IT I'M NGL

NO NOT ANOTHER NERVE LOSS STOP IT ANNIE OR I'LL KILL U AGAIN MYSELF-

I feel kinda bad for Noah. Like ik what he did but i was always like the Jane kinda used him

Oh noiceeee i thought Ava lost her powers

Idk why but again taylor swift is playing in my mind

(MY BABY'S FIT LIKE A DAYDREAM WALKING WITH HIS HEAD DOWN I'M THE ONE HE'S WALKING TOOOOOO SO CALL IT WHAT U WANT YEA CALL IT WHAT U WANT TO MY BABY'S FLY LIKE A JET STEREAM HIGH ABOVE THE WHOLE SCENE LOVES ME LIKE I'M BRAND NEWWWWWW SO CALL IT WHAT U WANT YEA CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT)

Oh i just realised what it lives within could mean. It prolly means within like the ilw mc. Or all the three mcs. Idk

The recent asks abt ilitw mc/Noah not coming back makes me so sad. Like, Connor and MC are sooooooooo good for each other. She better come back to life or else imma riot😭

THIS WOMAN. STOP DOUBTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP I BEG YOU JUST STOP IT THEY'VE BEEN THRU ENOUGH

(Nadia the next time u doubt Connors relationship imma whip slap u)

YES HER DEATH IS REVERSIBLE. plus i had a theory that her body would still somehow be there. Like she'd randomly turn back to human coz not going mad coz of loneliness is the key to break the curse🤷

EXACTLY NOAH U WERE USED BY JANE.

Awkward silence in car is always soooooo uncomfy

HI AVAAAAAAA I MISSED YOUUUUUU *tackles her into a hug*

Hmmmmmmmmmmm. What kind of freaky?

Maybe the cave is used bye some rly rly bad person who wants the Power for themselves. OOOOOOOO THEY MIGHT WANT MC'S POWER 😯

Well hellooooo Luis👀👀👀

Ok Luis is kinda sketchy but well. Why didn't we get a chance to stare at his butt?

Too easy lmao. I know I'm quite something Luis, I know.

Tf is that q supposed to mean😭😭😭 he literally just said gauntlet of healing

I know, Luis, my lips are tantalizing (i hope that means what i think it means)

YAS I'M UP FOR IT

The fact that I'm reading this just so that I can get inspo for my book is a lie, brain. You and i both know that I'm horny

I'm sorry isn't this like a campsite? WITH A LOT OF PEEPS OMG EVERYONE IS HEARING THIS-

Ofc ofc through. So thorough that we won twice hmmmmmm.

YASSSS CONNOR MY SWEETHEART UR COPING THANK THE LORDS.

UMMMMMM ARE WE SUPPOSED TO HAVE A BIIIIIG MONSTER PET OR SMN COZ THERE'S A SHAPE THAT LOOKS LIKE IT IN THE INVENTORY

Angry but supportive. Who do i have to beg to get that kinda friend? GOD ARE U LISTENING

Mhmmmmm a pleasurable experience

AYO U LITERALLY DID THE DEED WITH HIM HE WASN'T THE ONLY ONE HORNY

Lmao Abel chill. Wait La Llorona? Isn't that the song from Coco? Aye di mi Llorona Llorona, Llorona de mi azul celeste. Gray character trickster god. Sure you ain't talking abt Loki? Oooooooo so i feel like this trickster god is doing this stuff so he can be alive again maybe?

No coffee Abel sleep. Can't function that much on coffee u need to sleep.

I mean if people can turn into murder angry after visiting the place then well

Hmmmmmmmmm. Nerve loss in all it's glory😖

LJ? Who's that? Is he an ancestor? THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME

Ummmmmmm. Is everyone's fam member just coming back as a ghost or smn?NOOOO CONNOR IS ON EDGE AGAIN NOOOOO. Super trippy? Rly? Lmao. Hope the sensor doesn't burst or smn.

WHOA LADY WE JUST MET IN THE LIBRARY WHY U GOTTA BE SO MAD?????OR WHAT HUH??? I HAVE A GUN. AND POWERS. TRY TO HURT ME I DARE U

Daily anon you are a BLESSING

#mod m #ask #daily anon #this is literally me on my blog whenever i start a new drama

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multi-lefaiye · 2 years

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2, 5, 17, 18, and 23!

wahooo!!! thank you!! :D

2. That one genre you always try to avoid writing about and why?

hmmmm... i guess for me it'd be pure contemporary slice of life? i just can't really get into writing that personally--it can be fun to read!!! but i always wanna throw something in there to spice things up.

5. How would you describe your writing style? Does your writing style change for different WIPs? If yes describe all or maybe just a few.

i think i would describe my writing style as "wow those sure are some sentences huh"

in general i t r y to get very moody and atmospheric with my writing, but i'm not quite sure how often i succeed there!! i think it's easier for me to describe my art style than my writing style.

17. Have you ever made any major changes to any of your OCs? Which and why?

oh, SO many of them. with the amount that i pick up old ocs, dust them off, and put them in new wips, it's a miracle if any of them remain mostly unchanged.

as an example, let's take a look at the main trio of in seeking paradise.

knives was originally a character in, surprisingly, a comedic slice-of-life thing i wrote on and off when i was in high school. his original name was ace and he was a comic artist. i don't remember much about him, but i made him into a completely new character for this.

salem was originally a character inspired by a creepypasta i really REALLY like called infected town case files. i still have a lot of emotions about that one. anyway, salem's original concept was that she was a woman who was horrifically murdered and revived as like... a phoenix type creature. design wise she's very similar, but i changed her actual concept and personality around a LOT.

aaand david was originally a kinda randomly generated NPC in a ttrpg oneshot i was running!!!! out of the main trio, they've changed the least, except i transed their gender and bumped their height up.

18. What/Who influenced you to start writing and why do you write?

i was first influenced to start writing because i wanted to write warrior cats fanfiction. i am not kidding and i am not ashamed <3

i write now because i want to tell stories and like... connect with people. i have a lot of ideas i want to explore and put out into the world, and i hope that people enjoy them!!! :>

i also write because it's the only way to keep the blorbos from kicking my ass.

23. Tell me about your newest WIP idea. Even if you haven't written it down. Even if it will die in a matter of days.

i actually have two lol. the first is one i mentioned a little bit of--taking the movie The Ritual and trying my own spin on the general concept and vibes.

the latest update for that is that i'm still deciding if those characters are humans or not! because i do think it'd be fun to write a serious horror where the characters are little creatchers, but also i'm a little worried about people not taking it very seriously.

and as for the other one. that's a tales from the gas station fic idea i had. short version for that: i'm thinking about antonio again and i want to write something really exploring him as a character.

#talk to the bunnykitty #bat time all the time #ask game #ty for the ask!!!!#i have. a lot i am rotating in my head rn

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serendipitous-magic · 2 years

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this may be disrespectful and u don’t have to answer but how r u queer/sapphic and also writing BLB or gay fanfics? A lot of it smut? If you have no physical attraction to men?

It doesn't read as disrespectful to me, just confused :) And that's okay!

Yes, I am queer! And I am generally not interested in romantic or sexual relationships with men. (There have been exceptions but they are very very VERY few. The human brain is complicated.) However, as a writer I empathize with my characters. I also just appreciate men for their existence because while I'm not really looking to get with them, they're still lovely. Men are adorable and handsome and gorgeous and sexy, not to mention caring and intelligent and hilarious - everything that women are. We're all just human! I write mlm ships the same way I read them: while that's not my personal life experience, I can see why and how someone would want a relationship with a guy.

Plus, I'm more invested in byeler as a relationship and a dynamic and a friendhsip etc. than I am in what their genders are. That's not to say that I don’t enjoy it more because it's gay than I would if it was a straight ship, because the "young gays in the 1980s" angle really brings another dimension to it, and gives us queers a really powerful story to empathize with and experience catharsis and wish fulfillment. But I'd ship them if they were Willma and Michelle, and heck, I'd probably still ship them if they were f/m (if maybe not as much - see above).

I suspect this is mainly about the smut, since straight and queer women read mlm fic for enjoyment all the time. (I guess there's a whole essay to be written there, but not now.) So, how can I write mlm smut if I'm not generally physically attracted to men?

If you want the light answer, see above. I empathize with characters. While I'm not really into the ol' penis, some people are. Writing is about getting into other types of people's heads. I could also write from a serial killers' pov despite not wanting to murder people. Plus, I find erotica hot even if I don't want to be in the characters' shoes IRL.

Want the slightly darker answer? I have sexual trauma from some situations of questionable consent that I went through in years past, and writing about sexual situations involving the female body (aka a body like mine, which experienced said trauma) can trigger me. So while I am a queer woman, my chucks generally have to come from mlm "situations" in order to avoid sending me into a ✨trauma memory✨.

Sorry if you didn't want that much personal detail, but you asked so I answered ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#asks #anon #queer #fanfiction #tw: noncon mention #... is it noncon if it's irl or is that just fanfic? Oh well you know what i mean

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cathygeha · 3 days

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REVIEW

Murder by Lamplight by Patrice McDonough

Dr. Julia Lewis #1

Excellent story that had me guessing till the end ~ Great introduction to a new series!

What I liked:

* Dr. Julia Lewis: physician, trained in Pennsylvania, raised by her grandparents, strong, dedicated, professional, intelligent, compassionate, skilled, haunted by a past experience, willing to do what it takes, and it often takes more due to her gender, her future may not be quite as she expected

* Detective Inspector Richard Tennant: employed by Scotland Yard, Crimean War Veteran wounded in battle, had difficulties to deal with when he returned from battle, dedicated, intelligent, from a good background, good leader, strategist, rather taken with Julia

* Dr. Andrew Lewis: Julia’s grandfather, had an “episode” that will see him retiring soon, loves Julia and worries about her

* Aunt Caroline’s wisdom shared with her niece, Julia

* O’Malley: constable, works with Tennant, Irish, good at his job, hope to see more of him in the future

* The supporting characters I hope to see more of: Kate who is Julia’s lady’s maid, John Bingham – retired Quartermaster Sergeant and philanthropist with a mission, Johnny Osborne – journalist who is at times annoying but also intriguing

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* Thinking about the first female physicians and what they had to contend with

* That it felt true to the era, drew me in, and made me feel and care about the characters\

* All of it really except…

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about the horrors of workhouses, cholera rampaging through communities, and the disparity between the lives of the haves and the havenots

Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and Kensington Books for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

In the twilight streets of Victorian London, a gruesome series of murders unfolds, and Dr. Julia Lewis—one of Britain’s first female physicians—along with the aloof Detective Inspector Tennant of Scotland Yard reluctantly team up to investigate in this atmospheric, vividly authentic historical mystery series debut. November 1866: The grisly murder site in London’s East End is thronged with onlookers. None of them expect the calmly efficient young woman among them to be a medical doctor, arrived to examine the corpse. Inspector Richard Tennant, overseeing the investigation, at first makes no effort to disguise his skepticism. But Dr. Julia Lewis is accustomed to such condescension . . . To study medicine, Julia had to leave Britain, where universities still bar their doors to women, and travel to America. She returned home to work in her grandfather’s practice—and to find London in the grip of a devastating cholera epidemic. In four years, however, she has seen nothing quite like this—a local clergyman’s body sexually mutilated and displayed in a manner that she—and Tennant—both suspect is personal. Days later, another body is found with links to the first, and Tennant calls in Dr. Lewis again. The murderer begins sending the police taunting letters and tantalizing clues—though the trail leads in multiple directions, from London’s music halls to its grim workhouses and dank sewers. Lewis and Tennant struggle to understand the killer’s dark obsessions and motivations. But there is new urgency, for the doctor’s role appears to have shifted from expert to target. And this killer is no impulsive monster, but a fiendishly calculating opponent, determined to see his plan through to its terrifying conclusion . . .

AUTHOR BIO

I'm a Jersey girl, splitting my time between the Garden State and Florida, which should have improved my golf game but hasn't! I spend my leisure time traveling, sailing, watching classic movies, begging my golf ball to land on the fairway, and reading the histories, mysteries, and historical novels piled high on my night table.

I was lucky to grow up in a history-loving family in a tiny town that is home to the “bridge that saved a nation.” (Yes indeed: but for the crossing at River Edge, NJ, George Washington—and the Revolution— might have been toast back in 1776.) My older brother Tom and I were the nutty kids who rode our bicycles to the Von Steuben House by the bridge, spending hours—and a quarter—looking at the cool old stuff.

I also was lucky to grow up in a reading family. The mystery bug bit me early, and I read through my brother’s Hardy Boys books before moving on to Agatha Christie. History and mystery…I guess writing historical suspense was in the stars. My most prized literary possession, though, isn't a first edition of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. It's a copy of Moby Dick signed "Herman Melville in the handwriting of Joseph Heller." Strange but true.

I have a master’s degree in history from Rutgers University/NJIT, taught history for many years at Immaculate Heart Academy in Washington Township, NJ, a college preparatory high school for girls, and was named an Outstanding Educator by the Archdiocese of Newark. I'm a member of the Historical Writers of America, the Mystery Writers of America, and the Historical Novel Society.

#Patricie McDonough #Kensington Books #NetGalley #Dr. Julia Lewis #Historical Fiction #Fiction #Mystery #Whodunnit #Female Physician #workhouse #child abuse #murder

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redpeng · 2 years

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2, 5, and 10 :D

2. Whiniest Bitch Alive

Professor Farm (aka Mastodon Farm, yes that is his full legal name). He's a Jojo OC who's also an English professor, and he is literally the Least Likable Man Ever Written. His personality can be summed up in three words:

- Perfectionist

- Asshole

- Contrarian

He literally will argue with anyone about anything. If you ever express an opinion, he will argue back and whine about how you're wrong because he enjoys feeling like he's more right than other people.

He got his stand when he got beat the fuck up for being a dick to people and then went 'I still want to be a dick to people tho' and so he did.

He is also abaolutely not above brutal murder.

5. Sexiest Man Alive

Hooo this very much depends on ehat your definition of sexy is. I'm not into men, so like, I can't say I find any of them particularly Sexy in that way, but in a more, just, like, generally attractive male oc...

That'd be a tie between my Wild West AU version of Tom Lacus and my only Vampire the Masquerade character so far, Axl Paradiso. Both of them hit different aesthetics.

Tom is a pretty well-kempt, clean-shaven sorta eccentric wild west cowboy man, and you could really definitely see that as being the sorta 'rugged mountain man' type that'd be considered attractive. He's also very fit, definitely has a 6-pack, he fits that sorta 'manly man' type despite not really being all that macho.

Axl is a conman who was a literal orphan in a shitty part of town before stealing the identity of a missing rich kid and growing up as 'Axl Paradiso,' aka 'Setzer Ace.' At first, while he would appear quite, like 'dashing' and well-dressed, he'd be a bit too much of a dumbass to really capitalize on that... Except he's not actually a dumbass and that's mostly just a façade to get people to lower their guard so he can con them out of however much he can.

10. Best Kiss

I'd say the kiss between Funk Odyssey and Jill Hathoway. While the latter didn't really get much character development, Funk was a mega closeted lesbian who was such a dumbass she literally had her first kiss with Jill (y'know, a woman) and didn't even question it until years later.

This was during Funk's backstory compared to the story she was told in, and it was also not very well-detailed because it wasn't the focus of the scene. This is because the only other OC kiss a character of mine has had 'on-screen' was non-canon and with another person's OC. You might ask, then, why I don't write kisses very often. That's because I'm afraid of coming off as, like, weird or creepy in my writing, so I'm a little new to writing proper romance in stories.

#oc ask game #ocs #I only gave small amounts of detail for all of these so dm me if you eanna know more

0 notes

libraryofloveletters · 3 years

Text

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context)

Category: fluff for the most part.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do.

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication.

Letters had always been more of your thing.

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him.

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30.

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter.

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving.

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment.

September 30th.

‘Hi baby!

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon.

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ?

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :)

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you.

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd.

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure. I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back.

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor.

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming)

Peace out,

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind.

November 4th.

‘Dear Evan,

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you.

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter.

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up.

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer.

Anyways, signing off for now.

Yours always, y/n.

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet.

December 21st.

‘Hey y/n,

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me.

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now.

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun.

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description.

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ?

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n.

Peace out,

Evan.

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th.

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it.

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan,

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ?

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go.

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories.

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had.

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah)

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present?

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country.

February 12th.

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it, a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name.

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas.

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me.

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell)

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ?

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it.

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it.

Peace out,

Buck’

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash.

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there.

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August.

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it.

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now.

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall.

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that.

Except, she was still busy.

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile.

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n.

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties.

A fresh start.

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into.

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates.

Buck’s last letter to you.

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing.

‘Dear Buck,

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change.

Guess where I decided to go ?

Did you guess yet?

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ?

LA!

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.)

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ?

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first.

Yours always, y/n.’

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye.

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor.

The unit number was the only difference.

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in.

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address.

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall.

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years.

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you.

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door.

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?”

“I am, who are you ?”

“Y/n.”

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled.

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar.

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer.

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter.

“Water’s fine, thanks”

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you.

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile.

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?”

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose”

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums.

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before.

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?”

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact.

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer.

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?”

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles.

“Buck, we live in the same building.”

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other.

“Okay.”

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13 @artemishunter18 @anxiousblanketqueen

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

Waiting For A Star To Fall

Nikolai x Selina

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: minor angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f receiving), brief thigh riding, penetration, use of sex toys, language gif by @vousnavezrienvu

A/N: Selina and Nikolai's first date turns into more than they ever imagined.

This took a stupid amount of time to write and became a pure labor of love. Thank you @magic-multicolored-miracle and @neuroticpuppy for being with me the ENTIRE way. And @bisexualnathanyoung and @forenschik for being my guinea pig

September 1992

Selina’s phone rang, but Sunny beat her to it as he threw himself over the arm of the futon in her minuscule apartment. His elbow rammed into the wall, and Selina insisted he deserved it.

“Hello?”

There was a momentary pause. Selina stood cross-armed with a frown on her face.

“I don't recall anyone with that name living here. It's just my sister, myself, and the guy from the sixth floor who was murdered in 1985.”

“SUNNY!!”

He waved her off, “Why would I be fucking with you? You called here. My sister didn't give you this number, she's a virtual nun! She's not one to take up with strange foreign men.”

Selina launched herself at her little brother. He held the cordless phone above his head and levitated the ten feet towards the ceiling. His legs curled up underneath so she couldn't grab him by the ankle.

“UNFAIR!!”

“EVOLUTIONARY ADVANTAGE!” he shouted and stuck out his tongue. “You were saying?”

“You aren't evolution! You're a science experiment that was implanted in our mother by The Men In Black.”

“Low blow.” Sunny flipped Selina off and went back to the caller. “I mean that may or may not be the woman you ravished lakeside. I know my sister is her own woman. You scandalized her though. I think you made her feel.. feelings. Rude.”

“NICKLAUS ELTON KOSTAS GIVE ME MY PHONE!”

He held up his hand. “HEY! I can speak Russian you know.” And then Sunny did for the next several minutes occasionally glancing down at his sister.

Finally, he came back to the couch and held out the receiver to Selina. “It's for you. He's very perturbed, and Slavic. And sexy.”

She yanked the phone from her brother and flipped him off. “Klaus should've left you in 1989.” Her voice softened and her cheeks flushed as she finally answered, “Hi.”

Sunny hovered a few feet off the ground as Selina blabbered on in flirtatious Russian. He sneered and poked fun at the way his sister wound her finger up in her hair and then released it. When that didn't work, craving her attention, he began to hold an imaginary conversation with an exaggerated Russian accent.

Selina threw the first thing she could at her little brother. The remote control sailed across the room at Sunny who simply held up his hand, palm towards his sister. The remote hung in the air like he did. Then he narrowed his eyes which caused the object to lower to the floor. Selina sighed and returned to the conversation.

“Wait, you wanna take me out?” A pause. “You don't have to repay me. I'm just practicing for when I'm ethically obligated to save someone.” Pause. “Arsonists and thieves too!” Selina smiled wide as the flames licked her cheeks and ears now. “How attractive you are doesn't alter Samaritan laws, Nikolai.”

Sunny rolled his eyes flabbergasted at how his sister’s entire demeanor changed the moment she began to speak to the Russian from Sway Lake. She was being coy. Dare he say seductive as she ignored everything he managed to garner attention.

Sunny had always been the object of his sister’s devotion. EVERYONE’S devotion really. As the youngest of eight “children,” it was his birthright. Now here he was, slowly becoming Selina’s third favorite person. Not a single soul, no matter how rakish or good in bed, would ever replace Leon.

“Sure. Yeah, I’d like that.” Selina had a dopey grin on her face. “Tonight?! I mean can you even get reservations?” “Trust you? I don't know why I should, but I guess I will. I'll meet you there. Do svidaniya, Nik.. KOLYA.”

Selina hung up the phone and threw a pillow this time at Sunny. He crashed to the floor having been caught off guard and rubbed his ass.

“Just be HUMAN FOR FIVE MINUTES.”

“I AM HUMAN!! I'M JUST.. Super.”

“Super egotistical.”

“I can't help that the love of our parents turned me into a badass.”

“I just pray Reginald never finds you. You're the success to his failure with Klaus.” Selina meant that last bit with her entire being. “Now get out, I've a date tonight.”

---

“Nikolai, I can't run that fast in these boots!” Selina yelled as she desperately tried to catch up to her date. She could hear a fast-approaching man behind her yelling obscenities in a dialect she wasn't familiar with. Bulgarian or Lithuanian maybe.

He stopped at the corner. “We are wearing the same ones, look how fast I'm moving. I think it must be the several rum and cokes you had. Come,” Nikolai held out his hand, “we will go faster together.”

Selina rolled her eyes but linked her hand with his. Nikolai took off, and she started to laugh. The exhilaration and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Never in a million years would she have imagined dining and ditching.

Nik was so calm as he spoke to the waiter in the dialect they were being bellowed at. He never blinked. Then the waiter nodded, took something from him and walked away. Nikolai stood and clasped Selina’s hand and began to make his way towards the door.

“Nikolai, shouldn't you pay?”

There was a slight shake to his head. He never looked back, just kept going with Selina tight to his side. They made it to the door before they both had to give chase.

Selina swung out into the street. She waved and whistled loudly at an oncoming taxi. To her shock, it stopped to pull over for them. Nik was incredulous but had no choice except join his date as she yanked him inside the cab.

“Bleecker and Christopher, please,” she instructed the taxi driver. Selina turned to the Russian beside her, “Are we going to break the law EVERY time we're together?”

“Yes. Like a new Bonnie and Clyde.” Nikolai lifted the hand Selina hadn't realized he was still holding. His lips brushed the back of it, “Without being shot to death by the FBI.”

Selina's heart pounded in her ears. She couldn't remember seeing anyone look attractive in the color orange. Yet here was the man beside her, currently with a look she could only describe as voracious, pulling it off. Her cheeks grew hot under the weight of his stare.

“What?!” came out in an embarrassing giggle.

“I cannot look at something beautiful?”

“You don't have to lay it on THAT thick. I'm taking you back to my apartment already.”

“I'm not trying to trick you, Lina. I think you are beautiful. I almost blew my own mission. Especially under the moonlight. You made me forget what I was doing. Your willingness to allow me to do unspeakable things to your body helped,” he teased.

Selina decided to play coy as the taxi stopped in front of her building. “Let's see what happens under this month’s full moon.”

---

Selina and Nikolai on the fire escape outside her living room window. Selina a few beers in and a few steps above. Nikolai nursing a beer of his own while settled between her knees. His arm under her knee to snake around her calf. His fingers mindlessly stroked her ankle to the naked foot dangling in his lap.

They had fallen into a contented silence after nearly two hours of talking. Sharing stories in Russian and English. Nik’s curiosity about the photos and books and records she owned was endless. Selina had a hard time keeping up and answering as he flitted along from keepsake to keepsake.

Yes, that's Elton John. Somehow he and her parents were old friends. He dedicated “Your Song” to her parents every concert they went to. Selina could never figure out why.

The somehow dower, yet smiling man, with a giant cigar in his mouth that tossed Selina in the air while little Sunny hung from his back was her Godfather, Tom. He had been a CIA agent that now lived in a cabin with his beautiful French wife, Ella. That's where she had been staying up at Sway Lake. Yes he did always look like a lion with a thorn in his paw, but he was soft and kind and loving.

The Lady Godiva on the horse was her mother, Honey, back when she frequented Studio 54. Selina recalled her hair rivaled only Cher’s at that stage. Raven colored and long enough to hide her naked body (barely) as she sat side saddle on the white mare. Her head resting against the back of an equally nude man. Her one arm wrapped around his thin waist.

Nope, Nik was totally not imagining things. The man holding the reins did strongly resemble her brother and himself. That was HER papa, Leon. His hair in perfectly wild curls to his shoulders. His face full of confidence and sex.

The questions began to wear Selina down. No one had ever been this inquisitive or interested in her life. Her family. Her. The endless questions, punctuated by making out until their lips chapped, about her personally. Then, between an anecdote about Luther and rollerskating and tongues fighting for dominance they stopped.

Now Nikolai lifted Selina’s foot and kissed the top of it. Then his mouth made its way up her shin. When he reached her knee, Nik turned abruptly to face the woman behind him. He set the bottle down on the windowsill before kneeling on the stairs. He slid the hem of her dress up, fingers hooked into the fabric of her panties to tug them off. He kissed her inner thigh before letting his tongue trace painfully slow along her sex.

Selina could only grasp the railing. Her fingers curved around the cold metal and she cried out in pleasure as Nikolai slipped his tongue inside of her.

It slid in and out before eventually discovering her clit. His hands on her ass so that he could pull her onto his face. Encourage her to ride him as his tongue flicked in circles and then snaked in and out.

Selina started to lose herself. Her free hand tugged at Nik’s hair while her hips bucked and the spark grew. She twitched and cried out louder as his mouth and tongue worked faster. She opened her eyes to look down at the man keen to make her cum.

Almost as if he could feel her eyes on him, Nikolai looked up at Selina. She felt strange, shameless and used her own thumb to wipe away what was on his lips. She sucked on it briefly then grabbed Nik by the shirt towards her. Wanting for a kiss.

Selina revelled in the way she tasted on his lips and inside her own mouth. Like beer and bitterness. She had never done that before Nikolai and the lake. She wanted to do it again, and every time he went down on her. She wanted to put him in her mouth. To suck and lick and make him bend and writhe.

She could, she thought, now. Selina pushed Nik away at arms length meaning to have him sit on the stairs so she could give him head. Her fingers deft at the belt buckle and buttons on his pants. She laughed full of nerves as he fumbled, THE OVERCONFIDENT RUSSIAN FUMBLED!!

Nikolai fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt before he finally came loose. He yanked his pants and boxers over his hips and held his cock in his hand. Nik parted her legs and started to push inside, but Selina held up her hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you not want me to have sex with you?” He was more shocked than angry.

Selina ran her hands over his chest and stomach then up around his neck. “I very much want to fuck you.” Nikolai huffed, but Selina continued, “I mean I've seen you naked and can't get over how fucking sexy you are.”

“Then what is wrong? Not here? Maybe this is not comfortable for you. We’ll go inside.” He stood and held out his hand.

“It's probably the same as fucking on a bunch of sticks and acorns.”

Nikolai sniffed again at the use of the word “fucking.” “Then what is wrong?”

Selina stood and climbed in through the windows. Her date followed. “There's an international health crisis. A incurable disease that passes mostly via sex and fluids?” she shouted from her room as she rummaged through drawers.

“Do you mean The..AIDS? Is that not for,” he chose his words carefully, “The gay men?”

Selina could tell Nik was more confused than anything. She heard this all the time at the clinic where she volunteered. “Or you could be bisexual or pansexual like my brothers. Contract it from a man and pass it to a female partner.”

She appeared in the living room now with a small foil package. “Or an IV drug user, also like my brother, and get it that way.”

Selina started to unwrap the condom without noticing that Nikolai was standing completely nude in her living room. “This is usually where most guys bail. They're not interested in protection or rubbers. Mostly just a pump and..” she looked up and paused in her tracks. She was distracted by his body and neck and eyes and jawline. “Christ on a cracker.”

“What?” he chuckled.

“Sorry! I know. I know. AIDS talk is a bummer. I get this close to just.. sitting on a dick and I panic? Everyone in my family got the sexual confidence memo but me.”

“Why are you panicking now? You did not freak out by Sway Lake.”

Nikolai couldn't help the teasing in his voice. He reached out for Selina to draw her close to his body. His knee inside of her thighs just like that night.

Now he unzipped and helped her out of the dress. “I think it's very sexy when you talk like a nurse. So smart and commanding.” His hands ran over her bare back and down to her ass as he brushed his nose along her neck up to her ear. He nipped at the lobe, “That can be very erotic putting a condom on.”

“Nik,” Selina could only squeak out. Her body involuntarily started to rock back and forth.

“It's Kolya. In Russian we use end of names,” he breathed in her ear. “Like your sister, Vanya. Little Ivan.”

“Ok,” Selina didn't want to hear about Vanya right now. Or Klaus. Or Diego. Instead she got down on her knees. The condom was still in her hand as she used the other to hold his erection towards her mouth.

“Lina, what are you doing?”

She looked up through her bangs, her tongue darted out to trace around the head of the cock. “Sucking your dick. What else does it look like?” She took it fully in her mouth, letting the tip hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” he mumbled in Russian. “Dorogoya, stop.”

Selina sat back with a popping sound, “Did I do it wrong? I'm like, the LEAST experienced person in this family.”

“You don't have to be an expert. A blow job is a blow job, we can practice another time. I want to be inside of you. And I have been very patient.”

Selina stood, but Nikolai lifted her completely off the ground. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as they stumbled towards the futon. Mouths and tongues at war as Nik sat her down on the cushions. Selina held eye contact as she expertly unrolled the condom down the length of his cock. She kissed his stomach as he noticeably shuddered.

Nikolai let his fingers caress Selina’s bottom lip before crawling on top of her. She still held his erection in her hand as he threw one of her legs over his shoulder. He held her bent knee to the side as she taunted him with her sex. Guiding it just inside before digging her nails into his ass so that he buried himself to the hilt.

Selina clawed at his back as Nik started to undulate. Over and over, further inside each time. Their bodies rocked wildly as Selina’s muscles started to shake from the position she was in. She clung to him desperately as he searched for her neck and chest with his lips.

Nikolai’s mouth devoured one of her breasts. He sucked and bit at Selina’s nipple. She cried out in shock at the sensation. The sound egged him on to go harder.

“So you like that too?” His voice raspy in her cleavage. His suckling and biting increased. She mewled in reply.

Selina was worried that it wasn't working. That she couldn't or wouldn't orgasm. Not like she did when he went down on her. How she hung from the cliff.

She WAS being pleasured. Nikolai was hitting the right spots, but she was so nervous about what she looked like under the lamplight. His rhythm and pounding, it was pounding, into her was unmatched. She cried out with exaggeration to indicate she had cum hoping he wouldn't notice.

“Fuck!” he cried out and propped himself up by the back of the futon.

Nik’s body arched while his hips made circular motion. He spasmed and shuddered as his body immediately went into shut down mode. His face covered in a sheen of sweat as he pressed his forehead into Selina’s neck then pecked it a few times.

“I.. am sorry, Lina.” There was disappointment in the Russian’s voice as he held the condom so he could pull out.

“For what?” Her arms and legs still enclosed around his back and hips.

“You did not.. cum,” Nik’s eyes searched the woman below him. “I should have tried better. I just was so turned on by you.” He swept the damp hair away from her forehead.

“You were fine! It was good. Really good. I got in my own head is all. Maybe next time?”

“You mean later tonight,” he winked then pecked the tip of her nose. “I won't leave until you are honestly screaming my name.” There were four dimples Selina counted in his smile.

“Then we’ll sleep on it first.”

----

Selina tip toed out to the kitchen both starved and thirsty. She thought about Nikolai's playful threat about not leaving until she got off and chuckled to herself. Then she peered around the wall to see him asleep on the futon. His mouth slightly agape and one hand under his cheek.

Would it be so bad with him around all the time? She thought as she cracked open a beer. To not be alone when she came home from a shift? How nice it would be to have conversations with someone not “related” in some form or another.

And Nikolai was interested in Selina. He still dodged questions about himself, answering straightforwardly with no details. She knew it was because he didn't trust her just yet. It wasn't like she didn't have secrets of her own, but the more open she COULD be, the more she knew Nik would reciprocate. It had to be lonely with only one confidante.

Selina turned around and jumped a mile in the air. “Motherfucker!”

Nikolai was casually leaning against the doorway watching her contemplate life and drinking a beer. “She IS very sexy,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Selina rolled her eyes and walked towards her kitchen table to keep distance between herself and the Russian. As if she were daring him to chase her. Nik made her feel so contradictory. In control and submissive. Safe yet dangerous. Lustful.

There was no opposite to that, she realized. The light from her small kitchen window illuminated the lines and definition of his chest and shoulders. The collarbone that met in the middle and moved up into his thick neck with its Adam's Apple bobbing along as he swallowed. A sharp intake of breath before he clenched his jaw.

Selina’s heart pumped into her ears as he casually reached across the table for her, but she ducked out of the way. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as they danced around for only a few moments until she allowed him to grab her by the elbow. Her world stood still as he took her in his arms, back to his chest.

“I have been thinking, rypka, about our little challenge,” Nikolai settled one hand on her breast which he massaged lightly paying close attention to her nipple. His mouth somewhere behind her ear as his other hand dropped to her sex.

A finger found its way inside of Selina and she lost the air in her lungs. It curved and hooked before making a lazy swirl around her clit. “Already?” was all she managed. Her nails closed around his wrist and urged him on.

“I would like to try a different way of having sex with you. I just don't want you to be offended.”

Nik let go of Selina and placed her arms on the tabletop. He spread her hands out; bent her forward so that her top half was pressed into the wood surface. Then he grabbed her hips so that her ass was flush with his hardened cock.

“No anal,” she moaned. “Wear a condom,” another instruction. “Bathroom shelf.” She grazed against him.

“If you insist,” Nikolai replied in Russian. “I will obey.”

There was a playful slap on Selina’s ass, and she felt herself swell and throb. A first time for everything. If she enjoyed it, wet from the sting of being struck, it was.. genetic.

Her brothers, father, even Honey mentioned the occasional pain got them going. Klaus and Sunny with varying degrees of punishment. She knew from eavesdropping or snooping that her parents preferred it light: spanking or hair pulling. Maybe she did as well. Too vanilla to ask. Inexperienced to what she wanted from a partner.

“Do it again?” Selina tried not to sound desperate as Nikolai tore into the condom wrapper. She almost presented herself to him as she felt the smooth surface on her cheek.

“What?” he was distracted. There was a strange snap of latex as he adjusted it. Then taunted Selina with the head of his cock. He rubbed it along her slit, marveling at how easy it was to slide in.

“Hitting me?” she asked timidly.

“Why would I hit you?” Nikolai was offended. His hand flat on Selina's back as it traveled to her neck and hair. His fingers combed and intertwined with her dark waves then lightly tugged.

Selina braced herself as he lost himself up to the hilt. Nikolai's pelvis met her ass and pulled out to just the tip. He repeated this until he gained friction. Her head and hips were his anchor so he could thrust quicker. Their bodies make a clapping noise.

“My ass. Like you did. Hit it.” She was willing to try anything. Wanted to cum for him. She knew she could, she did it alone all the time.

“Really?” Nik was surprised. His pace was even faster and the table started to creak under the motion. “Did you like it then?” His hand cracked her flesh but only slightly harder than before.

Selina cried out. Her sex ached and was swollen. Nikolai did it one more time, but she could tell it wasn't really his thing. Sensed that it bothered him to be serious about erotic corporal punishment. Playing was different. His hand did tighten in her hair to bend her head back.

“I don't know,” was all he mumbled in Russian.

The hand that spanked Selina now encompassed her own on the table. He bent to kiss her shoulder as he found his breakneck rhythm.

“Then just go harder,” Selina found her voice now. She relaxed and allowed her body to take how deeply he penetrated her. His cock at that angle hitting a spot she found mythical.

Nikolai railed into Selina. The table and their bodies shook almost violently as he pounded into her. His shaft lost until she felt a pressure in her womb. He stood straight and clutched at the thick of her hips. Her curves she inherited from her mother. They cushioned her as his body and cock pleased her. That spark and wave rolled over Selina like on the couch.

They weren't quiet. Both forgetting about neighbors as Selina mewled and screamed out. Nikolai growled and uttered obscenities in his first language. They were certain this would be it, that Selina would orgasm and Nik would feel satisfied that he could please her.

Instead, his body violently shuddered as he exploded inside the condom. His muscles and adrenaline gave way to Nik almost collapsing on top of Selina. He faltered prior to catching her up in his arms again. He held her and whispered apologies to her as they kissed.

“Kolya,” she whispered back. “It's fine. I was really close. We have other times to experiment.” Selina swept his damp curls back.

Nikolai leaned into her hand, “You want to keep being with me?”

“That's what dating is,” she laughed under her breath. “I like being with you. I wanna know more about YOU though. Come on,” Selina took his hand. “Let's actually go to bed and talk.”

---

Selina reached blindly for Nikolai after her alarm went off. Sitting up, she slammed the clock and turned to see an empty space on the side of the bed he had fallen asleep on.

She knew he wasn't obligated to be there when she woke up. This time waking up alone left a weird knot in her stomach.

“Fuck,” she tossed herself back and threw a pillow over her head to scream. Her arms and legs failed around like a toddler throwing a fit.

How long was enough before she called him? Would he just disappear now? Klaus called it, funnily enough, ghosting. Why did everything Nik say tread a weird line between romantic and calculating? And why did Selina want him to keep saying things, anything at all, to her?

How does someone know they're falling in love? How did Honey and Leon? Klaus and Dave. Allison and Ray. Diego and Patch or Lila. Vanya and Sissy. Uncle Tom and Aunt Ella. Poor Luther.

Selina’s family had a knack for impulsive behavior when it came to attraction. Her mom moved to a foreign country with a man she had slept with for money. Klaus fought in Vietnam for a closeted man that kissed him once. Sunny went home with, to Selina’s chagrin, anyone who showered him with the simplest of affection. And Selina had laid down and spread her legs for a Russian committing arson.

“Lina you are awake?” Nikolai asked from the other room.

She threw a bathrobe on and wandered into the kitchen. “You came back.”

Nik was reaching above her tiny sink for coffee mugs and plates. “Did you not want me to?”

He set the dishes out and opened a box to pull out some pastries and bagels. Then poured coffee and handed Selina the cup.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he offered her the plate. “Greek, Italian and Russian,” a satisfied grin flashed across his face.

“Well that was kind of you,” she smiled back and helped herself to a cannoli and Russian tea cookie. “Yes, I wanted you to come back. I think I kinda always do?” she questioned her own intentions with a mouthful of pastry.

Nik leaned over and kissed Selina. His tongue darted out to taste the sweet ricotta filling on her lips; she reciprocated. Her own slipping to the back of his mouth to catch him off guard. Nik steadied himself on her hips.

There was a muddled sound of pleasure when Selina’s fingers unbuttoned Nikolai’s shirt in expert time. Their mouths never separated as she went to work on his belt and pants as he struggled to take his boots off.

“This was not my plan for this morning,” Nik breathed heavily in Russian.

“I'm just really interested in us reaching that goal,” Selina helped him out of his clothes.

Kissing again, they could feel their lips start to chap already as Selina began backing Nik into her room until he hit the foot of her bed. As he leaned back, she climbed on his lap. Her hands seized his cock and settled it in the folds of her sex. Selina rolled her hips.

“What are you doing!?” Nikolai could only cry out. Astonished by the lack of a condom.

“I'm sick of being the safe one,” she raised up on her knees so that she was above him. Her hands on his face and neck as she snaked her tongue to the back of his teeth again.

Selina shoved him back on the bed and threw off her robe. She straddled Nikolai like a woman possessed, took his hands and placed them on her breasts as she rode him. Still not penetrated.

Nik lost himself for a moment. He massaged the breasts. One hand teased a nipple, pinched it, before sitting up to devour it. Selina held him to her chest, clung to the hair on the back of his head and pulled in her excitement. Her fingers found the gnarly scar and she rocked harder on his lap.

“I want you to fuck me until I cum.”

Nikolai looked up and held her back, “It is not fucking at this point. Not for me, Lina. Also you must not compromise your principles for anyone. I do not want this for you.”

Selina groaned with exasperation. Her walls were swollen and slick and wanting. “It's not a compromise, Nik. Everyone jumps in my family and trusts they’ll fly while I stand on the cliff pacing back and forth.”

He blinked, mouth just slightly agape. That face. Selina knew that face. She loved that face. She loved this face. “Lina, you are extraordinary. You don't need to have a big life just yet. It will happen.”

“Kolya,” her words softer now as she relaxed, “I love you.”

“Do you?!” a dopey grin spread across Nikolai's face. “It is the same for me I think? I've never done this, you know. “That I love you.”

He kissed Selina before turning under her to rummage around the nightstand drawer. “Now we will go back to the way you prefer? If I need to I will get..” he stopped and held something aloft. Now his smile and dimples were devilish.

He studied it before making it buzz with a push of a button. “Pocket Rocket?! Lina, are you secretly naughty?" he giggled.

"I don't think it's a secret to you anymore,” she reached for it. Her cheeks turned red.

"Who do you fantasize about when you use it?" Nikolai held it to Selina’s breasts. He watched with fascination as her nipples hardened. He let it travel over her stomach and back up.

Selina moaned and twisted. "You're just trying to get me to say you, but I've had it since I turned twenty. So mostly you know.. Keanu Reeves..”

“But not me?" his eyebrow cocked. Nikolai traced the vibrator along her hips and over her pelvic bone.

"Once in a while,” her words came out breathless.

"As a Russian, I'm already superior at using it because rocket?” he waggled his brows now. “We can now? With you on top?”

The toy found her slit and slid inside easily. It buzzed and made the air rush out of Selina’s lungs. She dug her nails into Nikolai's chest while he started to use the vibrator to have sex with her. Found a pattern of in and out while she bucked and writhed.

Selina reached back to anchor herself on one of Nik’s thighs. It allowed him better access to her clit. He Marveled at the way she agonized under his hand as it manipulated her. His free hand on her ass to coax her faster as SHE undulated now as he had done on the couch. Her hips danced separately from her upper half.

Nikolai rolled Selina on her back all of a sudden. Her hair hung off the bed as he propped up on an elbow. He worked the vibrator in circles. In and out of her slick walls before going after the clit.

Selina got tangled up in the sheets as she felt a warmth spread from her stomach to her sex. Her thighs started to tighten around Nik's hand as she thrust her hips off the bed. Eyes clamped shut as the first wave washed over her body. Neck exposed for him to suck and bite which urged another orgasm to burn through her.

Nikolai was stunned by her silence. Selina’s mouth opened in a silent cry as she came a third time in succession. This last time she managed a strangled scream of his name which he swallowed with a kiss.

A shiver ran through Selina while she relaxed. Her fingers traced patterns along Nikolai's bicep as her eyes closed. Cumming was like a sedative. Nikolai cupping her face and drawing it to his for a lazy kiss was a sedative. The rain she had no idea was pouring in buckets outside her window was also a sedative.

The vibrator continued buzzing until it didn't. The room grew quiet save for the breaths that came from Nik’s nose. Still heavy with his still hardened bulge pressed into Selina’s hip. There was no move to get on top of her. To have sex with her so he, too, could cum. She started to idly jerk him off.

“Lina stop,” he gently took her hand. “This was about you, not me. It'll go away eventually. Like I will,” he said that last bit with a challenge in his voice.

Selina curled on her side towards Nikolai. “Or maybe don't go?”

“Ty khochesh', chtoby ya ostalsya?” You want me to stay?

“Po krayney mere, yeshche odno polnoluniye.”

At least one more full moon.

Tag list: @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @nightmonsters @070188 @rob-private @firstpersonnarrator @ghouls-buddy @frogs--are--bitches @maerenee930 @duck-noises @bwritesstuff @sylvertyger @a-ghoulish-tale @icecoffeegirl @iamsexytrash @clumsyramen @falloutby @inspiremeandsetmefree @philodenmonstera @seancekitsch @the-freckled-luba @violetrainbow412-blog

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan imagine #nikolai x selina #song of sway lake fic #robert sheehan smut #moonbrella lake

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milazka · 4 years

Text

Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood.

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams.

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it.

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly.

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.”

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.”

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict.

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.”

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.”

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows.

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants.

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips.

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her.

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her.

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood.

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up.

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling.

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?”

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck.

─── °• ❀ ───

mila’s masterlist

taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added)

@milaonthemoon @spilledtee @pogue-writings @thebutterflyonhischest @ilovejjmaybank @bananasfromtarget @drewstarkeyobx @void-maybank @prejudic3

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey au #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #obx fic #obx fanfiction #drew starkey fic

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khoicesbyk · 3 years

Text

Dark Pleasure.

A/N: This AU is between my two all time favorite books Bloodbound and The Royal Romance! It is the crossover to end all crossovers.

A/N 2: This fanfic will be dark! And sexy! And violent! And delicious! And will quickly become your guilty pleasure.

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Tristan Rys (LI) and Latisha Tucker (MC) x Adrian Raines and Tiana Reynolds-Raines | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 1,210 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Prompt Time! Today I’ll be using @wackydrabbles prompt #87 “No offense, but I'm not interested.”! It’ll be in bold in black.

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

Series TW: drug use, violence, murder, mentions of torture, prostitution.

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

(MAJOR SHOUTOUT TO @secretaryunpaid!!! SHE GAVE ME THE KICK IN THE ASS THAT I NEEDED TO START THIS SERIES! I DON’T THINK I WOULD’VE HAD THE BALLS TO WRITE THIS IF SHE HADN’T HAVE PUSHED ME IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION!)

Chapter 1.) Into The Shadows.

Tristan Rys has everything any man could ever want. Money, power, cars, girls, homes you name it, he’s more than likely got it. As President and Chairman of Rys International Group, it’s his job to provide his clients with every luxury their hearts desire. After all he’s known all around the world as The King Of Cordonia.

His late father Constantine started the company with just one small hotel and when he turned the business over to his youngest son, Tristan turned it into a powerhouse that rivals Marriott and Hilton. He has his Le Roi de Cordonie hotel group, his Lotus spas and The Underground nightclubs all over the world.

And now he’s looking to expand to the US. After scouting possible headquarter locations in California, New York, Miami, Boston and Chicago, he settled on Washington D.C. He took a liking to the busy city vibe. With D.C. being the home and hub of American politics and the potential growth of his client list, he was sold on the location. Because what better way to grow his true business than to be in a city that thrives?

What is his true business you ask?

Tristan isn’t just the owner of Rys International Group, he’s also one of the biggest drug lords in the world. No one has ever been able to touch him.

And right now he’s about to have the biggest investment meeting of his life. If he’s able to make this deal it would mean he’d truly be unstoppable.

He’s about to meet with Senator Adrian Raines.

Adrian has known Tristan since he was a kid. He and Constantine were great friends and eventually Adrian became one of Rys International’s biggest clients. After all, they hosted Adrian and Tiana’s wedding. So when Adrian heard that Rys International was coming to D.C., he had to see what brought Tristan to town. Although Adrian doesn’t run the day to day of Raines Corporation he was still willing to meet.

Both arrived to an empty Ocean Prime Steakhouse for their meeting.

“Adrian! It’s good to see you!” Tristan said as he stood to greet Adrian with a handshake.

“It’s good to see you too Tristan. It’s been a long time. I haven’t seen you since you were a kid.” Adrian replied, returning his handshake.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Senator.”

“Please you know you can always call me Adrian.”

“I know but I want to respect you and your new position.”

“Thank you. What can I get you? Scotch?” Adrian asks.

“Whiskey if you don’t mind.” Tristan replies.

Adrian signals for the waiter to bring them a couple bottles and glasses.

“Now before we get down to business, I gotta ask…how’s that spitfire wife of yours?” Tristan asks.

Adrian snickered.

“You know how she is about you. She won’t shut up about the new spa you opened up in New York. I can’t keep her out of there.” He replies.

“Yes I know. Still the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“You’re a liar but I’ll take the backhanded compliment anyway.”

The two shared a laugh as the waiter brought them two bottles of whiskey.

“I don’t know about you but I’m starving! So shall we order?” Tristan asks him.

“Of course let’s order.”

They placed their orders and while they waited for their food to be delivered, they started to discuss business.

“So let’s get down to it. Why am I here Tristan?” Adrian asked.

“I have a business proposal for you Adrian.”

“Oh? And what is this business proposal as you put it?” Adrian asks.

“Consider it a bit of a ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’. I’m new to town and I know how cutthroat D.C. can be. And I’m a small fish in this very big pond.” Tristan replies.

“Meaning?” Adrian asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Meaning you give me protection here in D.C. and I fund your entire senatorial re-election and future presidential campaign.” Tristan replies.

Adrian scoffed.

“No offense, but I'm not interested.”

“Come on Adrian! You can’t seriously be passing this up!”

That’s when their food arrived.

“Need I remind you that you are one of the biggest drug dealers in the world? You’re a danger to my campaign!”

Tristan shrugged.

“Suit yourself Senator. I was actually looking forward to working with you but I’m sure your opponent in New York will be happy to take the deal.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh no? Why not? Because you’re an old friend of both me and my father?” Tristan asks.

Adrian smirked.

“You’re an asshole. You do know that right?” Adrian asks.

“High praise!” Tristan replies.

“If I agree to this, what do I really get out of this?” Adrian asks.

“Like I said, a fully funded re-election and future presidential campaigns. On top of the perks of being a valued member of Rys International’s platinum club and a few other personal perks and favors, of course.” Tristan replied.

“All while you get to set up shop here in D.C. and run your legal and illegal business, correct?” Adrian asks.

“A win-win situation if I do say so myself.” Tristan replies before pouring himself a drink.

“And how would we go about this…business?” Adrian asks.

“Very simple. Your head of security Jax will meet with my head of security Drake Walker and coordinate.” Tristan replies.

“Jax won’t agree to that.”

“Why not?” Tristan asks.

“Jax doesn’t like working with people.” Adrian replied.

“Neither does Drake. Unless it involves sex and liquor.”

“Oh well in that case, they’ll be great together. They’re both brooding, moody and love liquor and women.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“What about your brother Leo?” Adrian asks.

“Simple. While all that happens my brother will work with Raines Corporation on the business side of things.”

“And what about us?”

“Just two old friends working together to make sure that you are re-elected and my business flourishes here in America.”

“And no one will know about your cartel?” Adrian asks.

“Nope. Hell I’ll even throw you a cut of the profits…and a few of my finest girls.” Tristan replies.

Adrian sat back and thought about Tristan’s words.

“Come on Adrian. I know you’re considering it.”

“You’re an egomaniac!”

“And you’re the vampire who is married to the most powerful woman in the entire universe. And together you and I will become the two most unstoppable men on the planet!”

Adrian just shook his head then grinned.

“Damn you’re good…”

“That’s the nature of my business. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?” Tristan asks.

“This goes against everything I have believed in! I am better than this!” Adrian hissed. “And yet…this is too damn good for you to pass up.”

Adrian took a deep breath and Tristan rolled his eyes.

“Just say that you accept the damn deal old man!”

“Fine! You’ve got a deal! I can not believe I’ve been talked into this.”

“Wonderful! I’ll have my legal team contact yours and we’ll hammer out all the fine print.”

“You truly are ruthless, Tristan.”

“Jay-Z said it best. I’m not just a businessman, I’m a business…man.”

Adrian snickered.

“Here’s to a very lucrative partnership.”

“Finally!”

The two toasted to their new deal.

#choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #khoicesbyk #choices fanfiction #fanfic #bloodbound #the royal romance #dark au

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in-christalone · 4 years

Note

Former homosexual is such an insult. I'm sorry that you have been caused to think like that. God loves everyone and love isn't a sin. If you went through conversion therapy than what they taught you is all just brain washing. Be true to yourself, if you were experimenting that is fine but former homosexual is an insult.

Hello friend! I’m so glad you sent this message in, you’re giving me a chance to explain in my own words what my conversion from a homosexual lifestyle to one of Christianity is like, thank you for that!

Being a person who is same sex attracted is not a sin. YOU are not a sin, a sinner, yes (as I am too, the worst kind) but you as a person, having same sex attractions, are not a sin.

What is sin?

Sin is cosmic treason against a Holy, Righteous God - Jonathan Edwards

We are not sinners because we sin. We sin because we are sinners. - R.C Sproul

Unfortunately the lgbt community (including myself at one point) had the thought since we are gay, we are therefore a sin. As such there’s no hope for redemption. So why not have fun while we live?

However, the actions/thoughts we do/have are sins.

God created the universe, Heavens, earth, animals, and He created us. He is our Creator! The whole world is proof of His existence, the Grand Canyon is proof of the flood for example! Sodom and Gomorrah to this day is still preserved in sulfur from God destroying the city for its wicked rebellion.

When Adam and Eve sinned, they fell into rebellion against God. We have inherited their sinful nature as we all come from them (they were the first humans, all humanity comes from them)

We have all sinned and fallen short to the glory of God. We’ve all broken the law of God and like the criminals of the Law that we are, we all deserve to be in hell for our transgressions and sins.

This isn’t the end though! We have hope!

There remains hope for the sinner! God is faithful and so merciful to forgive sinners!

He has provided only One way for a sinner to be forgiven of their sins, that’s only through Jesus Christ.

Right after The Fall, God told Adam and Eve in Genesis 3:15 His plan of redemption for humanity. We can be washed clean of our sins.

Our hearts are the problem, the Bible says;

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? —Jeremiah 17:9

But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person.. -Matthew 15:18-20

Where is our hope if this is the condition of our heart? How can we, who hate God, even come to love Him and His Law?

We can’t do it alone. God says in the Bible;

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.”— ‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭36:26-27‬ ‭

‬‬The Holy Spirit (which they text refers to) had always existed! He just has a new role now than in the Old Testament era.

The Holy Spirit is put within and only the believer. The Spirit convicts and causes the believer to repent of their sins, first comes spiritual rebirth, then the sinner is a believer and has received forgiveness of sins!

If we are guilty, how do we become free?

In order for a convicted criminal to walk free from their crimes, someone must pay.

We owe our lives to Jesus Christ for His death. His blood shed for our atonement, and equally important, He has taken the wrath of God, something we all deserve, and taken it all upon Himself when He suffered and died on the cross.

Only Jesus (Whom is God) lived a perfect, sinless life as a human, only Jesus was able to pay for our forgiveness of sins, only Jesus has taken the wrath of God for us, and only Jesus has defeated death once and for all.

This is all said to prove this Scripture;

“Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

‭‭John‬ ‭14:6‬ ‭‬‬

Jesus Christ is the promised Messiah of God through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus we have a perfect, sinless Savior. The Lamb of God slaughtered for our sins and resurrected for the promise of eternal life. Sin cannot be forgiven excepted by sacrifice.. This is why Jesus is the only way to heaven. As long as he has sacrificed himself for guilty centers, and had drunk the full cup of God’s wrath, and has been resurrected for the promise of eternal life.

In order to inherit eternal salvation, one must repent of their sinful living, and place all their hope in Jesus as their Savior.

——

Former homosexual is not an insult to me, it’s a hope that God has placed in me. That I am no longer bound by my past, that I now have hope in Jesus Christ who has redeemed me!

I have never been through conversion therapy, though I really do appreciate your concern, I don’t support conversion therapy in any way, shape or form.

I don’t believe in the hyper focus of one sin when we are all sinners, in need of God’s grace..

I would further challenge you to re-think “love is love”. If such is true, we would then have to accept anyone who feels love for say, their sibling, a young teenager and an adult, or even beastality. There must be a line drawn somewhere when it comes to the romantic type of love.

God created man and woman to be together in a family not to suppress us, but to help us live abundant lives, in fact, once we are adopted into the family of God, then we begin to see that the same is said for everyone of Gods Laws.

A family must have a mother and father influence.

Heather Barwick, whom was raised by two mothers, expresses her childhood, trauma, homosexuality, and deep desire for the father figure she never had in her life.

Heather writes, “I’m not saying that you can’t be good parents. You can. I had one of the best. I’m also not saying that being raised by straight parents means everything will turn out okay. We know there are so many different ways that the family unit can break down and cause kids to suffer: divorce, abandonment, infidelity, abuse, death, etc. But by and large, the best and most successful family structure is one in which kids are being raised by both their mother and father.”

Being same sex attracted is a temptation and therefore not a sin, but when one gives into temptation, they produce sin.

Anyone can be redeemed in Christ Jesus.

Thank you so much for allowing me to speak on this, I really appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me to share more about myself and what God has done in my life.

I have joy in my life, and am no longer held by fear of death. God has set me free, He loves you and desires to set you free as well 💛

#lgbt #pride #gay #lesbian #that took me an hour to formulate my response!!#i hope its okay!!

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 3 years

Note

I'm curious about "a history of dead women in the city" (and also the Wellington one, of course)

Yusss!

“History of dead women in the city” - oh man one day I will write this. It's part of this world I'm creating called Babel and it follows this woman as she tries to figure out what happened to her sister who died years ago.

A long excerpt:

Here is a scene from our childhood: It’s a sunny day. Dappled. Portrait worthy sun. It brings out freckles. We are in the courtyard, my sister drawing and me watching her draw. On a large blanket by the well sits our parents. Our mother is laughing, her arms entwined with our father’s, they are so in love. They do not notice us. It’s one of those loves that perfumes air, that is intimate and consuming, where only they exist and nothing else.

‘That is what I want,’ Bellefrey says to me. She’s drawing my round face. Squinting, holding up her thumb, making a show of it. ‘I want a man who makes me feel sublime.’

‘Don’t you mean loved?’

Oh no, she means sublime. She wants to be a thunderstorm. A tsunami. A hurricane. Something you stand in awe of.

‘The word awesome is overused,’ she explains. ‘We use it too much. Everything is awesome. The food-stalls at the mid-summer carnival are awesome. The paintings by George Dier are awesome. The play at the Round was awesome. I’m awesome. You’re awesome. Everyone’s awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome.’ Her voices becomes mocking at the end.

‘But I am awesome,’ I protest. ‘I know how to make a penny appear from behind your ear.’ I sit up to perform the trick and she lets me fumble through it.

That was over thirty years ago when Bellefrey was seventeen and me, a mere ten.

Bellefrey wrote to me a week before she died saying that she hoped her daughter Lyra would make up her mind about the name for her daughter. The child was two weeks old and still no name. How was that to be countenanced?

Lyra was Bellefrey’s third child, though second to survive. Perhaps she thought you should have all these things planned. Bellefrey was a great believer in organization. She planned out all the names for her children. Lists tracked down the side of commonplace books next to recipes and almanac predictions. Boy names, girl names, names that could go for either.

As soon as she missed her third course she was to the local midwife to read leaves over her stomach so she could prepare properly. Will it be a boy? Will it be a girl? Will it die and so there is no need to prepare a name?

Johan is her son, first born. He followed his father into the merchant trade and sells all manner of fabrics and spices. He visits me, aunty I’ve black tea pearls for you laced with lavender, hounded by dried ginger, protected by saffron. We brew fragrant drinks and he shows me his art. All those drawings of places I will never see but he has and oh isn’t that wonderful.

Havel was her second child, a boy, but he died at three weeks. One of those deaths where the babe goes to sleep and doesn’t wake up. Gay in the morning, dead by dinner except there is no fever to blame this on.

Lyra is three. First daughter and pulled out a screaming child with spindly legs and a too-large head. Her hair is the thick curls that is our mother’s inheritance, her grandmother’s inheritance. Married to a lawyer who aims to one day be well connected through the inns of court, she means to make herself into something. Daughter three was named Belle. She wagged a finger at me, never a word about beasts and fairy tales.

I don’t tell her that a woman I knew said that fairytales are our collective neurosis born out in repeating tropes. Patterned to go down forever and on.

The fourth had no name because the leaves read by her midwife told her not to bother. It was born early and without heartbeat.

Guilluam is fifth and last. She swore he was conceived ready to escape her belly. He patted the inside of her stomach as soon as he could move. Once born he clung to her then didn’t anymore, running away at sixteen. A year before she died.

What would her most difficult child make of all of this? I remember his sneering face. Where Johan was gentle kindness, Guilluam was sharp. He cut with a look. He cut with a laugh. He could be a harsh, cruel boy. Probably is a harsh, cruel man.

Or maybe he’s softened. Maybe as he ages he’s gentling. Some people do that. But in all honesty, I don’t think Guilluam the sort.

What am I trying to do? I’m trying to introduce a woman. A girl. A child. A person whom I have loved all my life and will continue to love all my life. Though I am so angry with her for leaving us it wasn’t her fault.

See, I’m guilty as all of us are guilty.

Bellefrey got caught up in something bigger than her death. She was hidden in the shadows of a great anger and a great brutality.

Bellefrey died and was found months and months later wearing a green dress and purple shoes with pearls on them.

No one knows what she was caught up in and no one knows about this great brutality, this great anger that once stalked through our less than fine and noble city.

I do not have my sister’s blood on my hands. But I do have her gravedirt.

---

The Wellington one! I completely forgot about this one. It's part of the ridiculous Woodford Napoleon AU where Napoleon ends up in England and there are murder fairies. In this story, things are starting to come through a mysterious mirror that someone shipped to Napoleon for unknown reasons. Arthur shows up to investigate.

Another long excerpt:

In the drawing room rests the mirror. It was received a little over a month ago wrapped in brown paper with no information on sender or purpose. It is a heavy, old thing. Age-spotted, warped, the frame is heavy, gilded wood. Napoleon says that for him it’s Tuileries. Has he told Arthur about Tuileries? The sacking of it?

‘Only that you said vive la revolution and someone asked if you were from the south and you said yes and that is what saved you.’

‘Southerners have to stick together,’ Napoleon’s sphinxian smile. Then he goes into himself, how he does when he’s formatting a memory — twisting it into some form of narrative that will make sense to those who were not there. Bertrand told Arthur once, It’s the revolution, we can’t really explain it. How we went about our day but also checked this list that was kept of everyone taken up as enemies. You went every morning to make sure your friends were still alive. Then you had breakfast.

Napoleon shrugs at Arthur’s patient waiting. ‘It was messy. There was a man’s head on a pike. He had a beard, brown hair that curled, blue eyes. And the floor was scattered with torn drapes, rags that were once kingly gowns, shattered statues, remains of old portraits. A lot of broken glass. Windows and mirrors.’

And as for this mirror? With its growth that says: come come come. Nothing happened the first little while. Oh yes, various and sundry people of the neighbourhood came to view the mirror — to see if they recognised it.

‘And did they?’ Arthur asks.

Yes and no for all who saw it. Mrs. Topsom said it reminded her of a beautiful manor in the Scottish highlands she once visited as a child. She did not seem comfortable with this recollection. Mrs. Phillips said it brought to mind a book she once read which told the story of a young woman trapped in a tower whose uncle froze time. Lady Preston said it was something from the Assembly Rooms in Bath.

‘And your household?’

Napoleon shrugs. What is there to say on that? Nothing. It was the revolution and it was abdication and it was family homes that are no longer homes of families.

Arthur shifts his gaze from the pensive face of Napoleon back to the mirror and he looks at it for a long moment. Studies the carvings of the frame — the flowers, vines, mischievous eyes peeking out from behind leaves. ‘I suppose it’s something from Spain, if I think on it long enough. A wealthy home we stayed in, during the campaign.’

‘A bit of something for everyone.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur agrees. Then he adds, ‘and no.’

The main issue with the mirror is this: that there is a staircase growing out of it.

When Arthur approaches he can hear whispers crawling through his mind. Slithering down the back of his head.

‘How long have the steps been here?’

‘Week and a half. It formed slowly, so we were able to document it in a thorough manner. Bertrand will give you his notes.’

Arthur hums as he inspects the object, pondering cause and effect. And, more importantly, who sent it to the exiles and to what purpose. There is nothing behind the mirror, only the wall it is propped up against. The stairs themselves are made of oak, and descend as three steps out into their world. Within the mirror they meld into an old stone walkway that climbs into a forest and is lost amongst trees and brush and forest fog.

There are leaves on the floor. And dirt. Detritus of autumnal life. They crunch beneath Arthur’s boots. Everything smells of decay.

‘Has anyone touched the mirror?’ Arthur asks. ‘Seen if it’s solid?’

‘We had Sir Hudson Lowe test it.’ Napoleon replies with an air of innocence. Arthur casts him a look. ‘What? Would you rather him disappear forever into the mirror or my good self? And no need to answer. You can save your blushes, we’re alone.’

‘You’re incorrigible.’

‘It’s one of my finer points.’

‘And? Was it solid?’ Arthur asks.

‘Yes and no.’ Napoleon approaches and touches the glass. His palm rests against it for a beat, then it begins to go through to the other side. Napoleon lets his hand sink through up to his wrist before withdrawing. ‘No one has walked through yet.’

With this touch the whispering decreases. Though, there remains the feeling of being watched. It is not that they are hunted, Arthur thinks, but rather they are being inspected. Something is curious about them.

Reaching forward, he places his palm where Napoleon’s had been. The glass is cool to the touch and when his hand begins to sink through his skin buzzes with frisson of magic, that unfurling warmth crawls up his arm as his hand enters the other side where the air is cool yet humid. That sticky feeling of late winter.

He pulls his hand away.

‘What are your orders?’ Napoleon asks.

‘To investigate.’

The whispers return. Arthur rubs the back of his head. Such an unpleasant feeling, something else in your mind speaking a language you cannot understand in a collection of voices none of which are your own.

‘Maybe we should put a sheet over it,’ Arthur suggests after a moment. ‘Just in case.’

Going over to the window seat Napoleon opens a cupboard beneath to pull out a heavy blanket. He holds it up showing the shredded fabric.

‘We tried,’ Napoleon says. ‘Mrs. Phillips recommended salt so we put a circle around it but found strange footprints in it the next morning. We tried the blanket, but it was clawed through. We collected iron implements and made a circle around it with those and that seemed to work better than the other options. I still think they got out, though.’

‘And you’re just keeping it here in your house?’

‘Oh yes, it’s fine.’

Arthur rolls his eyes. Trust Bonaparte to think it’s fine keeping a mirror-doorway to the land of fairy in his house with potential creatures coming and going out of it at all hours.

‘We leave food out for them.’

‘They’re not pets!’

‘No,’ Napoleon pats Arthur’s cheek with a warm smile. ‘But that’s what you’re supposed to do to keep fairies happy. Come now, you should know this. Milk, bread, sometimes a brandy.’

‘I give up!’

‘Young Napoleon Bertrand has suggested names for them —‘

‘Good lord.’

‘Ferdinand, Finnegan, and Felipe.’

‘Christ’s blood.’

‘Excellent,’ Napoleon enthuses. ‘You’re cursing like a Catholic. I knew I’d be a good influence on you. Come, we shall have a late supper.’

---

Thank you so much for the ask! <3 <3

[das meme]

#ask #reply #writing #ask meme #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #arthur wellesley #duke of wellington

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elenajohansenreads · 3 years

Text

Books I Read in 2021

#83 - Shadowmarch, by Tad Williams

Mount TBR: 69/100

Beat the Backlist Bingo: Cover features your favorite color prominently

Rating: 1/5 stars

Well, that was a slog.

So I have a history with this piece of intellectual property. I was introduced to Williams as an author in college (1998) because several of the friends I made my first year were big fantasy nerds--no surprise there--and I was perfectly ready to move on from my high-school-era love of less sophisticated fantasy authors. I borrowed The Dragonbone Chair from one of those friends and off I went.

So in 2001 when news about Williams writing an online serial went around, and I saw the $15 price tag...well, I was a perpetually almost-broke college student still, and sure I spent money on books, but that was a high gateway, because a) I didn't own my own computer yet, I was borrowing friends' or using the computer lab to write papers and such; and b) sure, a chunky fantasy novel might be $7 or $8 in paperback, but it was portable, easy to reread whenever, and nobody had tablets or smartphones or e-readers yet, so an online serial publication was definitely not portable. Even fifteen dollars seemed like too much for the inconvenience of a book I could only read sitting at a computer, and couldn't read all of at once.

I was genuinely angry about this shift away from the paradigm, and much like Williams vowing this serial was online only and would never be published traditionally (which I distinctly remember but don't actually have a source for) I too vowed that I would never read it.

I held out much longer than he did, if my memory of that claim is even true. But I'm wishing now that I hadn't bothered.

This is bad. Not even close to the level of quality I expect from Williams, based on the earlier Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series, as well as War of the Flowers--which was weird but I enjoyed it--and the Otherland series, which was even weirder and not always good, but yeah, I still enjoyed that too, for the most part.

Who am I supposed to care about in this book? I'm no stranger to multiple protagonists, but there are simply too many here, meaning none of them get the development time they would need to be interesting. I'm trying to wean myself from the complaint that protagonists need to be "likable," because a character can be a jerk and still be interesting, but few of these protagonists are particularly likable either!

1. Barrick is a whiny jerk who folds under pressure and abdicates responsibility to his sister, and then makes a spectacularly bad decision for no reason other than to set up some tension at the end, and his future arc. If it's because he's "mad," bad plot reason, and if it's because he's affected by the more general shadow-madness, well, I guess he could be vulnerable to it like anyone else, but that's pretty flimsy too. 2. Briony is a fairly standard "if only I weren't a woman, people would take me seriously" princess who doesn't fold as much under pressure but is dealt a really raw deal. I'll give her credit, she does legitimately try her best to rule her lands, but she's also kind of a whiny jerk like her brother, too. 3. Quinnitan is...pointless. Sure, I see how the end of her arc in this book echoes those of the Eddon twins, but there is no direct connection between her plot and anyone else's. And I mean that literally, if there's anything that ties her story to any other single part of the book, I simply do not see it, it's buried in lore or foreshadowing that was lost on me amid the sheer weight of nearly 800 pages of plodding narrative. I read all of her scenes constantly wondering why I should care, and the fact that her arc is a very basic harem plot, "I don't want to be a token wife but really what choice do I have?" sort of thing, doesn't help, because on its own it's incredibly unoriginal. 4. Chert is marginally likable, because he's arguably got the most defined personality and most personal growth in the book, as a person of a "little" race who is distinctly not human--I get a mix of gnome and dwarf, with a faint whiff of Podling from The Dark Crystal--and who deals with an unexpected foundling by taking him into his family and trying to make it work, even when that foundling is really a big blank space in the story who still manages to get into trouble. 5. Captain Vansen gets points from me for being the guardsman deep in unrequited love, which is a trope I would absolutely eat up with a spoon. The problem is, the object of that love is a protagonist I don't care for (Briony,) leading me to question what the eff he's thinking that he can even admire her from a distance, let alone be in infatuation/love. And his plot arc is mostly "something goes wrong that's not really has fault but everyone blames him anyway." Which got dull.

Chert and Vansen are most of the reason this book gets a second star*, honestly. Chert's scenes with the Rooftoppers are generally pretty excellent, even if they're mostly tied to a plot arc that I don't care for.

The other thing that's getting me about this is that it feels like a deliberately grim-dark retread of Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. You've got a castle that's the seat of current government but used to belong to the enemy--the enemy that no one is sure even exists anymore, that lives in a land far enough away to feel distant but also somehow close enough to be threatening, once people believe in them again. That castle is perched upon magically important ruins/caverns, and that enemy has forms of magic/communication that affect humans and can cause or appear symptomatic of madness. There's a race of small likable people who aren't quite dwarves or any other "standard" fantasy race, but are still somehow cute/appealing. There's a crippled prince who's not really well-liked. One of the primary female protagonists is a young woman who laments the limitations of her womanhood under the patriarchal feudal system of the world.

And to someone who's never read either of these series, that list of similarities could mostly read like fairly common fantasy tropes, and I forgive anyone who reads this review and thinks that. But I've read MSaT probably ten times all the way through in the twenty-plus years since I was introduced to it, and I feel like I've just been handed the same story again, with a thick coat of gray paint slathered on it and a few details changed--and those changes are basically always for the worse. No one in this story can be said to be a direct equivalent to Simon, who gets a very clear hero's journey, but if I'm supposed to slot Barrick in as a Simon/Josua mashup (that crippled prince problem) then it takes the entire book to get Barrick out of his comfort zone and on his journey, where Simon got booted from the castle at the end of the first act of the first book.

And that gets at the underlying problem that is at least partially fueling all other problems--this book is clearly just the first act of the larger story, and yes i know! that is what first books do! but this also doesn't have a lot of forward motion on its own, and it doesn't resolve anything aside from the mystery of a single murder at that happens near the beginning. Seriously, all other plot threads get kicked down the road with the "and now they're exiles" theme that the ending has assigned to most of the protagonists. Chert doesn't suffer that fate, but the ending of his story line--also the end of the book itself--is the foundling reasserting that he doesn't know who he is, which is not new information. We've literally not known who he is the whole time, except that we do find out who his mother is, but don't find out how he was taken or why he apparently hasn't aged as much as he should have or what the Qar intended by sending him back "home." The identity of his mother is basically the least important question surrounding him.

I truly feel like I just read a 750-page prologue, and that is not a good feeling.

*Yeah, I told myself this was a two-star book, but by the time I wrote the whole review, it's not and I can't pretend I still believe that. This is a one-star book. This is so bad I don't want to go on with the series, even though it almost has to get better, now that most of our protagonists are out on their journeys. And because it could hardly get worse, right? But this already took up so much of my time (I had to take a week-long break in the middle to binge some romances, as a relief from all this grimdark toil) and even though I've managed to collect secondhand copies of the rest of the series, and they've been sitting on my shelves for a few years waiting for me to invest my energy into them...I'm giving up. Not worth it.

#booklr #book review #tad williams #shadowmarch #book photography #my photos #my reading challenges #mount tbr 2021 #beat the backlist 2021

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medeafive · 3 years

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I'm curious about Cruise!

Oh, thanks very much for asking about that! That’s actually a covid fic. In the early days, there was this one cruise ship where covid broke out and they weren’t allowed to land in Japan, I think (I think it was called Diamond Cruise). So, the fic is essentially a fake-dating mission where Natasha accompanies Bucky on the cruise because of some Hydra thing only he can recognize. And then covid breaks out and Natasha catches it (Bucky is immune because he’s a super soldier), so he has to nurse her while she’s sick and even after she gets better, they’re still stuck all day in their cabin and they get veeeery close. I wrote a solid beginning (which I’ll post below a read more) and then skipped all the fake dating to jump to the end and it’s basically abandoned now, though I hope to catch motivation again some day.

"Hell no. You can't make her do that."

Her doesn't even twitch, feet on the table, chin propped up on her palm, elbow propped up on her hip. She waits, lurking, and at some point she's going to come out swinging, whichever way. And she won't miss.

Fury rolls his eyes, except he doesn't. It's a skill Bucky admires. "Make her what, Barton?"

He used to find her kind of unremarkable- she's only human, after all, and a small one at that. Now he doesn't understand how she could ever not make the hair at the back of his neck stand. She exudes danger. It's on another frequency just out of earshot but it's deafening once you get attuned.

"Make her play cuddly with- no offense but maybe you should get out for this. With the guy who tried to murder her multiple times."

He doesn't get out and nobody seems to care. Nobody pays him any mind at all. Her still hasn't moved an inch. Like the mafia boss while everyone around argues and fights. He's seen some movies, it's just all a wash to him.

"I'm not making anyone do anything," Fury returns. "It's a fucking cruise. That's just the obvious cover. And I'm not letting a fairly new agent run a weeks long undercover operation without experienced backup."

"And how exactly do you imagine that going?" Barton asks. "Is she supposed to sleep in a small, windowless room? With him?"

"I'm sure we could work something out," her suggests surprisingly, not taking her chin out of her palm. "Build some trust."

She's not looking at him but he knows she's watching him. They're on the same frequency. The one for murderers and psychopaths. He doesn't get the feeling she's talking about her trust in him, like it's not her issue, which is eerie.

"Are you serious?" Barton questions in disbelief. He gets the feeling he wants to give her an easy out most of all, so she doesn't have to be the one who says no. "Come on, Nat. That's a swimming prison. Nowhere to run."

"I'm just saying," she adds casually, as if she hasn't already made her decision. "Who goes on a cruise with his sister? Separate cabins? It just doesn't make sense."

"You could go separately," Steve suggests carefully. "Without connected covers."

Maybe it was when she went off the comms that one time, off the grid, and Steve said she would be fine and Barton said she was exactly where she wanted to be- and then she later walked out of the bunker, with the thing they'd been looking for the entire fucking time, crooked smile. Maybe that flicked the switch, maybe that's since when he can't see her as anything else than what she is, which is all sharp edges, all teeth, all danger. Maybe that's when it was.

"He has no experience," she points out, as if she needs to argue. "Fury is right, he needs supervision. And I can do the talking part."

Not his strong suit. "And you can sell that," Barton remarks dubiously, not specifying that.

"Sure," she replies, shrugging non-committedly. "And if he can't, I will."

He starts doubting he's actually here, with how they're all talking around him. "And I'm not making you," Fury remarks.

She grins, letting the sharp and blank shine through. "Have you ever?"

"That's settled, then," Fury finishes. He wonders if anyone ever asked him. "We'll work out the details. Ship leaves next week and then you're on your own."

They all get up and so he does, too, following Steve towards the elevator, but the hair on his neck signals to him she's there, right behind him, even if inaudible. He turns and she rolls to a stop, smoothly. "Scared?"

He shrugs. As if he would tell her. Throw her that kind of meat. "Well," she remarks, rocking up on her feet. "Better get used to it."

She's all up in his space all of a sudden, pressing his head down to her lips, and he just goes with it. There's nothing else on the other frequency than before, not that he expected it to be. It's weirdly silent around. At least he didn't startle.

"Mhm," she makes, pulling back. "Try again."

He leans down, thinking about the sharpness, nothing but the sharpness, like he's making out with a Kalashnikov, weirdly apt metaphor. But she's not that blunt an instrument, of course, more like a scalpel. A dagger. Anything that can cut someone's heart out.

She's grinning when he pulls back, sharp teeth. "Okay. I can work with that."

Barton looks half worried and half amused. He just gets on the elevator with Steve who looks at him weird, of course. Closes his eyes as soon as the doors glide together. Man. A fucking cruise. Just because he's the only one who's ever seen the stupid key they're after. And the book. Now he has to play a fucking tourist.

"Sure you can handle it?" Steve asks, sounding awfully worried, now that they're alone.

"It's just a cruise, Steve," he replies. "It's just a fucking cruise."

They figure out a thing for his arm, they do his hair and they write him a comprehensive cover. He gets to pick what business school he went to, not nameless but not too famous, gets to pick his family background, his pet peeves. They try a few different things and end up sticking to glasses. He shaves.

He gets a briefing about her cover, too, and immediately, one of the photos slips out of the folder. She's on the cover of a magazine, supposed to look soft but he only sees the sharp edges. There's a handwritten note from her, in nice cursive, that he doesn't have to learn it by heart, that it's actually more convincing if he doesn't know everything. He reads the whole night.

She's… he's actually not quite sure. Something between a model and an actress and the kind of person a rich guy would call if he needed some arm candy. She's on Instagram, too, with a remarkable amount of followers and posts going back over three years. Nice to have such a machine at your back. She probably has fucking sponsoring deals. He read about that kind of thing.

They quiz him about his cover until he can recite the whole thing forward and backward and sideways. They quiz him about hers, too, but when he mixes it all up, the woman smiles and says that it's maybe even better this way. Better explain superficiality than try to fake it away.

He has to learn about his supposed job, too, daytrading and the commodity markets and fintec and junk bonds and all that kind of shit. That's probably what he's going to fuck up first. They teach him stupid managerial speak and quiz him about the political views he's supposed to have. When he's not talking about work, he needs to know everything about his fancy hobbies, tennis and mountain climbing and sailing. God, he hates himself.

When they travel to Okinawa, where they will board, he's so full of it, expert information and biographical details and mannerisms, he's never going to get all of that straight. Someone's life pressed into a week. How is he supposed to remember all of that, not mix it up? He'd have to be a totally different person.

"You know, I'm not particularly picky about who I make out with," she remarks. "If that helps. Not a big deal."

Of course. She'll just get it done. She's just worried he'll be difficult about it. "I'm not worried about that."

"Yes, you are," she replies seamlessly. "But I really don't care. You know, I even made out with Steve once."

That immediately sears itself into his brain, whether he wants it to or not. "Yeah. Okay."

"Different thing," she adds, starting to go through her handbag. "Sleeping arrangements. We could try shifts but that's probably not going to work. Are you claustrophobic?"

He shakes his head. He's scared of many things, though. Probably couldn't name them all if he tried. "Okay," she says. "Then it's probably easiest if one of us locks themselves in the bathroom overnight and we switch every day."

Great. Sleeping in the bathtub. "It locks from the inside, though."

"Yeah, but I'll definitely wake up from that," she replies. "You too. I considered the balcony, too, but that looks super weird if one of us sleeps outside."

Oh, no. Not at all. He wonders how long she thought about that until she felt safe with it. With him. "Okay. Bathroom."

"I'm sure it's fancy so we'll be fine," she says. "It looked fancy in the pictures."

There are so many people. All getting on one ship. And she's talking the whole fucking time while he's just trying to find out where they're supposed to go, getting mad at him when he doesn't listen or reply or whatever shit, and at once he snaps at her. She pouts, sort of duckface if that's still a thing, turning and starting to complain to random people around them, which is fine by him as long as she leaves him alone-

It scares him to realize he's really angry, he didn't want to, certainly not to the point of losing control, snapping- yet he snapped perfectly in character. Without even trying. A few people around look at him sympathetically. It's weird but it feels sorta… good?

"Oh honey," she interrupts his calm. "Don't we have priority boarding? It's so humid out here. I'm sweating like a pig, I really need a shower. Do we have the suite with the bathtub? I'm dying out here, really. We should go for the pool first. No, shower, the shower with the…"

He stops listening after that, rolling his eyes before he even thinks about it. Wow. But he spots a sign soon after, different line, hopefully priority, the sign's golden-

She's talking with an elderly lady about the horrific heat. He takes a deep breath and just drags her that way, through the crowd, not letting go of her wrist because then he'll definitely lose her. He hears her giggle as she wiggles through the crowd. "Oh my. Oh my. You are certainly very hands-on today."

He has no fucking patience for that. Or Benedict has no fucking patience for that. Or both. "Could you just, for a second, shut up?"

She opens her mouth, gasping for a brief moment, but out only comes an angry hum. Sure, her lips are moving but he can tune the words out perfectly. The golden sign comes within reach and it's indeed their category, thank God. Now he just has to find the end of the queue. Benedict has studied in England, he would never cut in line.

They finally come to a stop, at the end of the quickly moving line. She pushes her gigantic glasses up her nose, huffing. "They better not lose our baggage. Once, on a flight, they lost my suitcase even though it had a new exclusive shawl by Hermes in it! Can you imagine? I was phoning after them for weeks and I never got anywhere, they just lost it. Never showed up again. I bet one of those shady flight attendants stole it. She was staring at me so jealously, you know, even though I barely had any makeup on, just a touch of rouge and-"

"They won't lose our baggage," he interrupts.

She stops and smiles, behind her enormous glasses, should be hard to make out but it's not, gets on her toes and quickly presses her lips to his, but he catches her head and keeps her there and- until someone clears their throat behind them, right, right, the queue, must move. He apologizes backwards, without really looking. She's smiling, moving forward, mood changed so quickly.

He doesn't really get why they would go on a cruise together when they already get so annoyed with each other. Why he would take her. He's pretty sure he's taking her, though no one told him that explicitly. The usher is staring at him expectantly, she's staring at him expectantly, and he fumbles for the tickets while she complains that he never keeps his things in order.

The usher's smile widens when he sees the price category on the ticket. "Oh, welcome on board, Mr. Darkwell, Miss Bigard. Let me escort you to your suite."

#buckynat #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #winter soldier #black widow #my writing #sorry I can't do breaks somehow

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neoarchipelago · 4 years

Text

Lisbon Lights (part 5) (John Wick x Assassin!reader)

AN: so there will be another chapter after this cuz... It was too long. Thats why. And then Lisbon lights will be over and I'll go on writing about my other fics. Who need to also be finished. I hope I didn't forget to tag anyone, the last chapter will contain some smuttttt so yeah.

Word count: 2651

Warnings: blood violence swearing

------

The look of shock on Luana's face was priceless. She looked utterly panicked. You would have have enjoyed this moment if it wasn't for your own heart beating loudly in your chest. He had come. Why? He hated you. He was here. Making his way up to you. And you were currently useless, tied up and unable to move, a bit of blood dripping from your collarbone. You were desperate to do something, help him, but the tugging on your ropes were only causing you to bruise yourself.

When Luana finally reacted, screaming at her men to get prepared, you smirked. Prepared for what? Death? John wasn't going to be beaten up by some low level handman. The gunshots were incredibly loud to you. You were after all, a 'knife' person more than anything, but right now, those gunshots were deafening. Clearly it wasn't because of the overwhelming anxiousness and fear for John's safety. No. You were pushing that aside. You watched as three man ran to the door, walking out and slamming it behind.

There you were. Locked up with your worst enemy. And one of you was obviously going to die. You both looked at each other as the silence between you two settled in like a heavy smoke. You watched, your breath catching in your throat as she reached for, once again, something you had not noticed before. The shiny silver of the gun reflected with the setting sun. Yes. One of you was going to die. And right now, it was unsure of who.

You frowned. Taking a deep breath. You surely weren't going to show weakness now. This wasn't you. If you were to die before John arrived you wanted to die like you lived, with pride. Behind the mask of this tremendous lie you told yourself however, you were begging for John to run in. To hurry. And shoot her before she could shoot you.

What happened after was still a blur. Your mind still trying to grasp what truly happened in the second after. The loud noise, the body, the blood. Where did he even come from? How did he manage to shoot her without a second thought. You remember gasping, and your eyes filling with tears for a second as you stared at the now dead body of your enemy. You remember the feeling heavy feeling of relief as you closed your eyes for a second. And silence settling in again.

When you opened your eyes to look at John, he looked like shit. His bloody shirt and messed up hair. The furious look on his face. For once in your life, as he walked up to you, you showed no pride nor hid your true feelings. You were worried.

"John…" you whispered, surprised by the way your voice slightly cracked.

As he sat on the same red velvet couch Luana sat in front of you with a sigh you simply gazed at him.

"You are infuriating. Do you know that?" He simply let out.

In any other situation, your silver tongue would have returned the attack but you simply nodded. John frowned.

"Do you always behave so recklessly?" He asked again.

You took a second to take in the question. Was there even a good answer to this?

"Sometimes…" you answered, the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

He chuckled. And you felt light again. He leant forward and looked at you. He seemed to think for a second.

"I… I'm sorry for the hurtful things I've said."

You blinked. What? He was apologizing? You literally had put this man through hell, you made him, single-handedly destroy an empire to come and save you, and he was worried about the mean thing he had said?

"What..?" You blurred out.

He looked fidgety for a second, probably wondering how was he going to apologise more profusely. This man was unbelievable.

"John! Stop being and idiot! You just saved my life!" You let out.

"It doesn't really justify-..." He started.

"It doesn't. But you're completely forgiven…" you interrupted. "And…" your voice broke again.

John seemed to notice and a worried expression settled on his handsome features, especially as his eyes scanned the small cut on your collarbone.

"And… I'm sorry I was so reckless… I'm sorry I didn't follow the plan…" you were trying your best to hold in the tears now.

You had to admit, your pride was currently being murdered in cold blood but, you didn't remember anyone risking their life to save yours. Or even apologizing for calling you a bitch. John suddenly looked almost panicked. The situation was unreal. You were crying, stammering some pitiful apology, tied up to a chair in a hotel full of dead bodies as John looked truly panicked because the brat looked like a pained child.

"And I.. I put you in danger and I'm sorry…and thank you… for saving me..." you finished, looking at the interesting blood splatter on the carpet.

John quickly rushed over, grabbing a knife he had kept you didn't even know where, and you quickly felt the ropes that trapped you fall off. You didn't hesitate one second to lunge for him, tackling him with a hug. No one was witnessing it, right? It couldn't hurt. John's arms quickly wrapped themselves around as you hid your face in his neck. You stayed like this for a minute. Soothing each other. The wild ride was more or less over now and the tension was finally dropping. You sighed, getting lost in the smell of cologne, blood and sweat.

"Let's go back to the hotel, we need to check your wound."

You closed your eyes over the vibration in his chest as he spoke. He was worried about your small cut when he looked far more fucked up. Unbelievable.

"It's just a scratch… you look worse Mr Wick." You let out softly.

He groaned and you smiled.

"Come on. Don't be a brat." He warned.

You chuckled, and remembered how he had referred to you when he spoke to Luana. 'his kitten'.

"Moew." You simply let out.

And he groaned again.

----

It was well over 9 pm now. You sat on the couch of the suite you shared with John. You were starving. John and you had gone back to the hotel and he had not allowed you to leave his side more than a minute. You had obviously both been checked by a doctor as soon as you had walked in the hotel and Amalia had seen you. You couldn't escape the screaming fit from Amalia over your recklessness and the mess you both had caused. And when you finally had a moment of peace, in your suite, you were alone. And starving. John was with Amalia, taking care of God knows what. It was the only exception he had done to 'leave you alone and unsupervised' as he had quoted. Not that you could do anything. In this room. Alone.

You sighed. You were finally back in 'vacation'. But the heart wasn't there anymore. You felt bad. You felt useless and a burden. You were unable to take care of yourself and had put John in danger. Your mind was running on so many things.

Guilt. From all the events of the past few hours.

Disappointment, in yourself. For not being able to be the woman you had fought to be for so long.

Fear. From all the emotions you were feeling, towards John mostly.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Your eyes falling on John's ones immediately. The way your heart raced was trouble. You smirked up at him. He looked annoyed. Making his way to the couch, he let himself fall down on it with a sigh. You chuckled.

"Amalia is a lot of work… isn't she?" You asked.

John simply hummed.

You looked at him. The way his hair fell softly. His eyes closed, laying back on the couch. Yes. The way your heart jumped was trouble. What was even this? Friendship? Simple affection?... Love? You swallowed dry for a second as you looked away. Shifting on your seat.

"What's wrong?" You jumped, and he frowned, his obsidian eyes now on you.

You smirked at him again, a bit of maliciousness.

"I'm hungry Mr Wick. Why hasn't my babysitter tried to feed me yet?" You let out in a overly dramatic voice.

He rolled his eyes and you let yourself soften again. You stared at him, and he looked back at you. Confusion settled in, as a question was burning your lips. And it probably showed on your face, because he sat up straight again.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" His tone was more demanding.

"What now?" You surprised yourself asking out.

God. He was turning you into his kitten! You should worry about that, but the silence after the question was much more terrifying to you. He was leaving now. Obviously. He was done with his job. What were you even thinking?

You forced yourself to chuckle. Turning back to your old self.

"I suppose Mr Wick is needed elsewhere. And I can now take my vacation in peace…" you let out in a almost sickening lie.

John simply frowned again. The intensity of his gaze on you was suddenly making you nervous. And you lost your smile.

"Is that what you want?" The words made you freeze.

No. Stay. But nothing came out of your mouth. You just stared at him. He wasn't speaking. He was actually waiting for you to answer. Facing now the most important decision of your life your hands were almost shaking. What should you say? The truth? Let yourself be finally weak… in front of wick? Or were you better living your lonely life? Of course, nothing could change your free mind. Nothing could change the strong woman you were. But were you willing to ask for someone to share it with you? It was scary. What if he said no? What if it wasn't what he wanted? Were you willing to let yourself be hurt?

Taking in a shaky breath you looked at his expecting eyes. No words escaping your mouth, suddenly too dry to even let out a sound. You. The mouthrunner. So you shook your head, like a sad child. A pained look on your face.

Now wasn't that pitiful? You weren't even able to speak up your feelings. What a truly fucked up mind you had. However when John's face instantly softened you could feel yourself finally let some hope in. Actually. It made you brave. And as John was about to speak, your heart spilled.

"No. It's not what I want."

John looked surprised.

"Stay a bit. I can't force you. But… stay. Let me show you the city. I won't be your tour guide…"

John glared at you, the thought of your first encounter making you smile.

"But I'd like to think I can show a… friend… around… after all, you saved my life."

Silence. Way too long.

"But if you have stuff to do…" you started again, trying to brush it off.

"Stop. I'm taking a week of vacation too. I'm staying." He simply let out.

You took a moment to look at him, to gaze into his beautiful obsidian eyes. The smile you both harbored could have tipped anyone off on what you both truly felt. But there was only two blind fools in the room at the moment.

"Shall we go dinner?" His rough voice rang.

You chuckled.

"I'm starving, yes."

----

The sun was warm on your skin, a high contrast to the icy cup of strawberry mojito in your hand. There, on a small corner of the beach, you sat next to the baba yaga, who sipped on a cup of bourbon.

The week had been quite fun. You had spent your time running around Lisbon during the day, showing him off how beautiful and interesting the city was. Sometimes passing by some secret little place only people like you and John could enter in. You had made a priority to show off all the best restaurants for every dinner during the week and then walked around the crowded and eventful streets. It was really enjoyable. To you and to him. But none would ever actually confess such a thing.

However, for as much enjoyable this all was, you could see and notice how John had been more cold in the last 24h. Yes, the week was ending. And John's phone had been ringing much more often, leading to frowns and angry little groans from him. It made you smirk. The underground world could not keep turning without the baba yaga. It was only a matter of time.

You sipped at your drink once more as John's phone rang. Again. You contained a chuckle as John answered the call with an annoyed 'yes?'. You looked around the beach, trying not to pay attention to what was going on next to you. The situation was quite tricky, In the end, for you and him. You had grown overly fond of the man, and you could tell, to some extent, that he did as well. The snarky comments and sarcasm being the perfect communication between both of you. But everything ends. And perhaps time was up.

You had been so used to being alone that you never allowed anyone to get close to you. And somehow this man, who could make people run away just by the mention of his name had managed to pass through all your walls. Now you couldn't possibly see yourself asking him to stay. You probably wouldn't stay here either. You had to work, Lisbon was just the little piece of heaven where you came to hide when you needed a break. Your city. You sighed, frowning slightly. You almost regretted having tasted this feeling of care and affection. You were getting addicted to it.

"(Y/n)?"

You slowly tilted your head to the man next to you. Eyes wide open. Had he said something?

"Are you alright?" He asked.

You blinked.

"Yes. Of course I am." You answered quite quickly.

He stared at you and you rolled your eyes.

"Are you being needed somewhere else mister wick?" You let out in an amused voice looking away again and sipping your drink.

"Vacations lasts as long as I want." He tried to debate.

You smirked, looking at him knowingly before chuckling at his annoyed glare.

"Vacations in this profession, lasts as long as another job doesn't show up. And jobs, isn't what you are lacking of currently by the amount of fucking phone calls you've been having." You let out, cursing the slight annoyance out of you.

"Language young lady." He reprimanded.

You rolled your eyes.

"Don't be so jealous, you have all my attention daily, a few minutes a day won't kill you." He added, obviously messing with you.

"I am a very possessive woman mister wick. You might tell that to the person who keeps calling you." You simply replied in the same tone.

"I'll make sure to tell Charon about it." He nodded with a smirk.

You smirked back. But the heart wasn't entirely there. Everything ends. Yes. You sighed once more, making John look worried for a second. Looking away you swallowed dry for a second. You kept repeating to yourself the same two words. Everything ends.

"I'm taking you to a place tonight for dinner. It'll be our last dinner so I'll make it special." You spoke, a malicious smile on your lips as you glanced back at John.

You froze for a second, the frown on his features was confusing. Was he angry, sad, or had you crossed some kind of line? It took him another second before he finally nodded and looked away. This wouldn't be easy for any of you. You had to brace yourself for it.

----

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