thesilvermarksman
I Went By The Code
This is a limited activity independent RP account for Chris Argent, the master marksman, single father , and retired werewolf hunter. ---------------This blog will have NSFW content. It will be tagged, but may not always be under a cut. Mun and Muse both 18+---------------FC: JR BourneTeen Chris FC: Jake AbelWill RP Teen Chris, selectively---------------trackingtag:thesilvermarksman
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It seems like Chris has been gone forever, but Derek knows that he has to make deals with people so their little family can live without any debts or hardships, but he also knows that Jules is missing his Dad-- Derek can sense it. Still, it gives him time to cook a meal of Hachis Parmentier for the two of them. By the time Chris is home, Derek's got the table set, with the food in the center, a bottle of red wine settled beside two glasses, and Jules settled in his arms as he coos quietly.
Chris is exhausted when he makes it home. It's been a long day of posturing and thinly-veiled intimidation, both things he's never really had a taste for. He's good at it, but he doesn't enjoy it. What he does enjoy is coming home, opening the door, smelling rich food and knowing that just inside the door are the two people he loves most in the world.
He takes his time shedding his jacket and stowing his bag, but only because it gives him time to sort of switch modes. By the time he comes to stand in the doorway, he's more relaxed. A father and a partner, rather than a cold-blooded weapons dealer.
"You didn't have to cook," he says, folding his arms across his chest. There's a small, contented smile on his face. "But it smells incredible." It's the best kind of comfort food, the kind he was raised on. Guyere cheese and meat and potatoes: what more could a man want?
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The sharp bounce of M&M's clattering to the floor registered somewhere in Chris's periphery, the way an air conditioner coming on or a teacher in a particularly boring class would: that is to say, not very much at all. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling his senses; or maybe, it was Alaric. He always did have a knack for capturing Chris's attention, and he held onto it like it belonged to him.
Maybe it did.
He shivered in the wake of Alaric's touches. People didn't touch Chris. People never got close like this; they never seemed to want to, and Chris could never seem to let them. But Alaric's hands made his skin heat up, made his face flush and his blood rush.
"I wasn't either," he admitted breathlessly. His voice was rough, probably not as much from the Jack as the rush, but he didn't really care to weigh it out. If Alaric wanted to make him feel good, then it was already mission accomplished. Clumsy as it was, questioning as it was, it was so goddamn good.
He let out a noise of protest he was embarrassed to hear come out of his own mouth when Alaric sat up. The embarrassment lasted only as long as it took for him to realize Alaric was taking his shirt off, though, and shit, oh shit, this was serious, and shouldn't he be panicking right now?
Only, he wasn't. He was sitting up so he could help Alaric take his shirt off, because the less there was in the way, the better. He wasn't worried about anything but Alaric's lips on the plane of his stomach, and his whole body seemed to tingle with the brush of scruff against sensitive skin. His heart had never raced as fast as it was racing then. Not in years of running and fighting for his life; then, he was trained to be calm, to be rational. He didn't have any training for this.
He couldn't find his voice at first, so he could only nod when Alaric touched his belt. It took him clearing it to be able to rasp out a, "Yes." Which was slightly less embarrassing than the yes, please dear God, yes that was running on repeat in his head. He shifted, trying to alleviate some of the pressure from the front of his jeans. That close, there was no way Alaric wouldn't notice he was already hard. It wasn't like he did this a lot, okay? Or, well, ever. And fuck, Ric was just..."Ric."
His voice hitched over his name, and his breath did the same when Ric's fingers fumbled over the buckle of his belt. Close. So fucking close to where he needed the contact, needed the pressure, but not close enough. But he was too buzzed or strung out or something to articulate it, so instead, he twisted his fingers in the upholstery of the couch and tried not to forget how to breathe.
Jesus. All these years doing all this crazy stuff, and it was going to be hormones that killed him. .
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#allroundlostcause#v: si jeunesse savait#nsfw#ish#// and because they're teenagers#they'll later be upset#that they wasted half a bag of M&Ms
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Conversation
Isaac when he first goes to live with Chris
Chris: Make yourself at home
Isaac: *Just lurks like a statue*
Chris: Help yourself to food or anything in the fridge
Isaac: *Doesn't touch anything*
Chris: You can put the TV on when I'm not home.
Isaac: *Sits in silence until Chris returns*
Isaac: You got me new clothes?
Chris: You only had a few tops and one pair of jeans...
Isaac: You got me a coat...
Chris: Your last one was ripped.
Isaac: You made my bed?
Chris: I didn't want you to be cold tonight.
Isaac: *Doesn't know what to do or say, as nobody has ever been that caring to him in a long time*
Chris: Your bedtime is 11pm
Isaac: I have a... Bedtime?
Chris: Of course. 10:30pm on a school night.
Isaac: *Acts like a kicked puppy again*
#wishlist#// I want parental Chris#showing Isaac what a real father#is supposed to do#and being angry at Isaac's dad#for never showing him himself
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Send me a ☼ for my character's reaction to having found yours, fast asleep and half hanging off of the bed/couch.
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with teeth to the bone
with anger and blood
that’s the only way
we k n o w how to love
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This Is(n't) Halloween
It's his first Halloween in an empty house, and Chris isn't really sure what to do with himself. Victoria always hated the holiday, said it was silly, but she still threw herself into the decoration with the same vim and vigor and stalwart determination that she did everything else, and the house never failed to be the best on the block.
And then there was Allison. His little Allison who had always wanted to go trick'or'treating until she was certain she'd hit every house on the block, who wasn't really his little Allison anymore. They still made a night of it. Even when she went out with her friends, she always made it back so they could watch cheesy Halloween movies and pretend to be scared and eat candy and junk food until they both fell asleep on the couch.
But now, there isn't either of them. No Victoria to chide him for stealing another handful of candy for the two of them to share, no Allison to grin victoriously as she guilted him out of the last Snickers. Even Isaac is still away in France.
If Halloween is this bad, Christmas is going to kill him.
Still, he can't bring himself to go out. He can't bring himself not to hang a few spiderwebs on the door or have a big bowl of candy. It's Halloween, after all. It's just his first one on his own.
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"You're kind of adorable when you're sick. You know, in a pathetic way."
"Unless you're here with chicken noodle soup and tidings of good health, leave me in peace."
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Sick rp Starters
"Hey there, Rudolph."
"I'm pretty sure tissues exist so you won't sneeze on me."
"Ugh! Cover your mouth!"
"You sound awful, you know that?"
"And you've been like this how long?"
"You really can't take care of yourself, can you?"
"Oh, gross! I better not get sick!"
"What are you doing here? You should be in bed."
"You're kind of adorable when you're sick. You know, in a pathetic way."
"Stop it! You're getting your germs everywhere!"
"I'm taking care of you, and that's final."
"I don't care if I get sick. I just want to help you get better."
"Did you sleep last night?"
"You've been coughing an awful lot. You okay?"
"Jesus! That the tenth time you've sneezed on me today! What is your problem?"
"Did you just throw up?"
"Do you need more blankets?"
"Is it too hot or too cold?"
"Hmmm, you definitely have a fever."
"I think it's bedtime for you."
"You have to take the medicine, or you won't get better!"
"Hey, you alright? You look pale."
"Here, just take the whole box of tissues."
"Gosh, you must be really sick..."
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Chris laughed. "Kate's admirers would be the least of your problems, believe me," he said. "She'd eat you alive, man." He couldn't imagine it. Ric and his sister...no. Alaric was a good guy. Better than good. He didn't deserve that level of crazy in his life.
"And you let me worry about drunk me." Okay, that sounded better in his head. That booze was going to his head a little faster than he thought it would. It made him feel warm, like his blood was heated beneath his skin. It was good. He always had this pervasive chill in his bones these days, it seemed like. Too many long nights in the woods walking around with clothes too light to do much insulating. Or maybe it was deeper than that. Cold on a spiritual level.
He was too drunk to think about stuff like that. Or not drunk enough. He wasn't sure which, but he was leaning toward the latter, if only because it meant downing the rest of his glass and letting that liquid fire spread a little farther through his veins. His cheeks felt flushed. It was always one of the first signs the booze was getting to him. All the capillaries in his face went first.
That was why he was blushing. It had nothing to do with the closeness. Or the cute. Or lips against his.
Holy shit.
Holy. Shit.
Ric was kissing him. He wasn't drunkenly imagining it. Ric's lips were on his, tasting like M&M's and whiskey, and--and--
And Chris was letting him. No, he wasn't just letting him. He was urging him on. He drank in Ric like he was dying of thirst, hanging on every point of contact. Starving for it. His hands seemed to act on their own accord, reaching up to curl around the back of Ric's neck and pull him closer, until Chris's back hit the arm of the couch and he could feel the heat of Ric's skin against his chest. Still, he wanted him closer. He wanted more.
There would be consequences. Deep down, beneath the thickening layers of alcohol swimming in his brain, knew that there would be. But he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about how everything would look in the cold light of day, without alcohol to blur the lines and embolden them. He didn't want to think about anything. He was always thinking, and right now, he just...wanted.
He kissed him deeply, hungrily, with the same barely-restrained intensity he did everything else. He needed this. He needed Ric.
He just hadn't known how much until now.
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#allroundlostcause#v: si jeunesse savait#// there's a good chance#that they screw on the couch#these two
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Care to join me? (Bby!chris)
Send me “Care to join me?” and I’ll generate a number and my character will react to yours asking them to join them in…
11. Walking through a haunted house
"I don’t know … possibly? Tonight?" It seemed like a better way to spend his night than studying in the park, for damn certain. "Yeah, I’m in. You gonna protect me from all the big, scary monsters?" He grinned cheekily.
#// this could be established relationship#that's as good at flirting as Chris gets#allroundlostcause#v: si jeunesse savait
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"Care to join me?"
Send me "Care to join me?" and I'll generate a number and my character will react to yours asking them to join them in...
1. (slightly NSFW) A bubble bath
"Tempting." He was going for wry, maybe even sarcastic, but it seemed to fall a little short. "I think one of us smelling like lilacs is plenty. But you enjoy." He was more of a shower kind of guy, anyway.
#// actively trying not to imagine#the two of them stretched out in the tub#half asleep and relaxed#trickorpeter
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Care to join me, Argent?
Send me "Care to join me?" and I'll generate a number and my character will react to yours asking them to join them in...
29. Illegally leaving the country
"Is this the part where I ask what you've done now, or should we agree I really don't want to know?"
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Send me "Care to join me?" and I'll generate a number and my character will react to yours asking them to join them in...
Mix of fluff, angst, and NSFW.
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Chris let out a laugh that sounded a little to sharp and a little too hoarse all at once. "Yeah, I'd keep you safe," he said. He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it fell a little flat. He didn't much worry about the zombie apocalypse; there were plenty of big nasties out there already. But if it ever came down to it, he would fight the devil himself to keep the people he loved safe.
The fact that Alaric was squarely on that list wasn't something Chris was drunk enough to contemplate just yet.
Luckily, Alaric seemed to have just the thing. Chris laughed again, a little lighter and easier this time, when Alaric came carrying the bottle of Jack like the Olympic Torch. "If you'd fallen, I would have laughed my ass off."
That wasn't actually true. He would have made sure Alaric was okay and made sure the Jack was okay. And then he would've laughed his ass off.
Alaric's question nearly knocked the smile off his face, though. He picked up one of the tumblers and chased a small mouthful of liquid fire with a handful of M&M's. They didn't cool the burn, but he'd always liked the taste. And they gave him a few more seconds before he had to answer. "It was just camping, you know?" he said, shrugging. "Tents, campfires, a little bit of target practice. No mutant mountain men that I saw. Unless you count my uncle," he added with a quiet chuckle. Nope, no mutant mountain men. Just a lone omega with a penchant for snacking on campers on the full moon and a hell of an arm. Gerard was still getting on him for letting it get in close enough to throw him. It was a good thing Chris had been the one to take it down, or else he'd probably still be training to make up for it.
"Argent camping isn't really the usual, I guess. Me and my dad don't really do the whole 'father-son bonding' thing." He shrugged. "Whatever. Maybe you and I can go sometime." That was a camping trip he'd like. Just him and Alaric. No Gerard with his judgy eyes and disappointed scowls. No Kate with her taunting and her little grins every time she put a hole in something. No death, no fear of dying. Just two guys shooting the shit, swimming in the lake, and eating s'mores, or whatever the hell people ate on camping trips. He smiled at the thought of it, maybe wider than he should've. And when he tried to hide it behind another mouthful of liquor, he nearly choked on it. Whiskey down the wrong pipe was never a good thing. Never. There were tears in his eyes by the time he stopped coughing.
"Note to self: breathe, then drink, then breathe again." He grabbed another handful of M&M's. "So, if I get plastered, promise you'll still respect me in the morning?"
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#allroundlostcause#// lol chris has no idea either#they'll figure it out#it'll be adorable#clumsy#slightly drunken make out session#v: si jeunesse savait
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// Just read someone's URL as littlebuttface. That is hideously, hilariously incorrect. And for this reason, I am going to bed.
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allroundlostcause replied to your chat:During Midterms...
Good luck baby xoxo
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シ
Send “シ” for my character’s reaction to yours stumbling into their room drunk.
The thud is a big clue. Isaac still seems to be getting used to his own long limbs sometimes, but he’s not usually clumsy enough to walk face-first into a door. And when he finally gets it open, Chris can tell.
He frowns. “Isaac. Why do you smell like booze?” He’s trying very hard to keep his voice level, but the fact remains that Isaac is very much underage and very much a werewolf. Either one of those things alone would make getting drunk a bad idea - never mind the actual process involved in getting a werewolf drunk, because that was a heart attack all on its own - but a combination of the two made him want to grab the curly-haired teen by the shoulders and shake some sense (or sobriety, he wasn’t picky) into him.
"You have three seconds."
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