#also I can’t believe it took me this long to draw trevor in a dress

[miranita]

this sketch alone is making me want to draw a whole comic about them

[elizaviento]

Assimilation (part 15/23)

SFW -- 2400 words

(FYI: Additional chapters of Assimilation can be found in the Rick Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #assimilation tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Waking up in Rick’s room for the second time was just as disorientating as the first; especially considering that it contained no windows or a clock.  Rick was gone again, which wasn’t a shock.  I had wondered many times if the man ever actually slept at all.  The thought occurred to me that I could just lay here dozing until he returned, although it could be awkward if he expected me to be long gone when he did.  Honestly, I had no way of knowing how he would react.  He was the most unpredictable person I’d ever met or ever would meet.  

I’d always had a saying  “You never truly know someone until you hear how they moan during sex.”  So far, Rick Sanchez was the only exception I had encountered. Everything about his exterior was gruff and unyielding.  Every now and then, there would be a glimmer of something a bit softer, but only in specific situations and only with specific people.  I had been lucky enough to be one of those specific people, mostly due to my association with Beth.  I was so young when I first met him that he probably lumped me in the ‘daughter’ category of his head space and treated me as such – until recently.  But, the way Rick behaved with intimate partners, at least in my short personal experience, was much different.  His gruff exterior was still absolute but the tenderness he hid underneath was surprising.  And, his penchant for praise was something I never could have expected in a million years.

My cheeks began to burn at the memories of said praise; whispers of ‘good girl’ making me feel swollen and needy.  I had to admit that one of the main reasons I found myself so hot for Rick was due to his perceived position as an authority figure in my life.  My school girl crush on him was definitely fueled by such; along with the small aspect of taboo associated with him being the father of my best friend.  

God, I was so fucked up.  What on earth would Beth do if she found out?  What would Jerry do?  How would the kids react?  

Nope.  I couldn’t think about that now.

Since I was completely unaware of what time it was, I tentatively poked my head outside his bedroom door.  It was still daylight, so that was good.  I didn’t hear anyone else in the house either and that was very good.  So, I made my way to my room to fetch my laptop.  I really needed to buckle down and get this project rolling again, especially since I hadn’t even checked my email since Friday.  

Finally reading through my email was painful.  An old friend of mine had contracted me to draw up the architectural plans for a new house he intended to build in the country.  The last time we’d spoken was over a week ago and I now had several emails from him.  He wasn’t used to radio silence from me so his last email simply read, “Are you okay?”  The last thing I wanted was to lose this contract (and a good friend in the process) so I decided the best course of action was to call him and explain that I’d been sick with the flu.  Luckily, I was able to get in touch with him right away and he agreed to meet with me that evening to go over what I had completed thus far.  So, I made a few finishing touches and sent the draft to the local printer.

As I was getting ready, excitement began to bubble up within me.  I hadn’t seen Trevor since Chris died and it would be wonderful to catch up with him again.  He and I had always existed on the same wave length and we both had a very bizarre sense of humor.  I’d asked him to meet me at one of the classier bar/restaurants in town so I had to look somewhat presentable.  I also hadn’t had the opportunity to ‘dress up’ since moving back, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to put in a little effort, if only to feel like a human female for a few hours.  I had the perfect dress in mind; something professional but also classically cute – sleeveless and black with a flowing skirt that hit just above the knee.  I finally found the dress after looking through nearly every trash bag I had hurriedly stuffed full of clothes when I moved, but I also had to dig out my flat iron and most of my make up – making me realize how unconcerned I had been about my appearance for the last month.  On one hand, it was incredibly freeing.  On the other, it was a bit depressing.  I’d also forgotten the effort involved with styling my hair and applying perfect wingtip eyeliner.  In the end, however, I was rewarded with a semi attractive, confident looking woman.

Checking the clock, I noticed I had just enough time to swing by the printer to pick up my drafts before heading to the restaurant.  No one was home yet, so I scribbled a quick note and tacked it to the fridge explaining that I’d be back later and rushed out the door.  Walking down the driveway to get to my car parked on the street, I noticed that the garage door was open.  Taking a closer look, I saw Rick standing at the metal shelves, digging through one of the many boxes.  I hadn’t even realized he was here, so I made my way to the garage, if only to show off my polished look.  I was sidetracked, though, when my phone chirped with a message from Trevor.  He was on his way to the restaurant and he couldn’t wait to see me.  Now feeling rushed, I glanced up to see Rick staring at me with slack jawed expression that made me grin ear to ear.  Giving him a quick wave, I made sure to put a little swing in my hips as I strolled to my car.

----------

Trevor didn’t burden me with small talk and pleasantries.  He and I were like peas in a pod, so he knew to get down to business right off and then smoothly transition into our comfortable banter afterward.  He told me how good I looked and asked how I was, but it was genuine.  I thanked him and confessed that things had been hard for a while but were finally getting better.  We drank cocktails and ate way too much food and were generally having a wonderful time when my phone chirped.  I ignored it at first, figuring it was Jerry or Beth asking if I’d be home for dinner.  Then it chirped again.  And, again.  Finally plucking it from my purse with a sigh, I took a quick glance at the screen just to make sure it wasn’t something important.  The message previews I saw on the lock screen were confusing, so I unlocked it to read them in their entirety.

 Rick:  So how’s your boyfriend?

Rick:  He looks like a doofus.

Rick:  He can’t be THAT funny.

 I quickly scanned the dimly lit restaurant and didn’t spot him.  Then, I glanced toward the bar and there he sat, at the furthest end from our table with a glass of something brown.  I was completely taken aback.  Had he really followed me here?  Looking at the messages again, I was convinced that I’d somehow misread them.  

“Something wrong?” Trevor asked, pulling my eyes from my phone.

“Oh, sorry.  No, I just got a text from my brother.  What were you saying?“

I tried to pay attention.  Sincerely, I did.  But, Rick was relentless.  I flipped the ringer off on my phone but I could feel it vibrate on my lap in steady intervals.

 Rick:  He thinks he’s getting his dick sucked.

Rick:  I bet his nuts smell like cottage cheese.

Rick:  Does he know you like ‘em swaggly?

 And on and on and on…

I couldn’t stop myself from snickering at some them which only upset me.  What the fuck was going on here?  Suddenly, I knew the response that would shut him down –

 Me:  Jealous?

 When I glanced his way and caught him scowling into his glass, I knew I was right.  I didn’t receive another text from him, but he didn’t leave the bar either, which made me nervous.  Trevor continued to talk and I’d insert the appropriate audio cues and giggle every now and then to give the impression I was listening.  When the check finally arrived, I sighed in relief and snatch it up before Trevor could even blink.

“No!” he attempted to protest.

“I can write this off as a business expense,” I explained, throwing down my debit card and glancing back at the bar once more.  Rick was gone and I felt my heart begin to race with anxiety.  I checked my phone again – nothing new – and froze when I felt a weight settle on the booth next to me.

“Heyyy, babe.  Who – who’s your little friend?”

I gawked at Trevor from across the table, my eyes wide with shock, as an arm slithered around my shoulders.  I actually couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Hi, I’m Trevor,” he said, extending a hand toward Rick from across the table.

“Rick Sanchez,” he replied, not taking Trevor’s offered hand but, instead, pulling me closer.

Trevor shot me a ‘what the fuck?’ expression and all I could do was shrug in response.  I was absolutely speechless.  Nothing could have ever prepared me for this moment.  But, when Rick placed his hand on my knee and began gliding it up my thigh, I found my voice.

“Trevor and I were just going over the architectural plans I drew for his house,” I offered, lifting my portfolio from the booth on the opposite side of me and placing it on the table.  I turned to look Rick straight in the eye and resisted the urge to flinch back when I saw that his face was mere inches from my own.

“So, are you two… um…” Trevor began.

“Fuckin’?  Yeah, man.  Oh, yeah – all the way.  She – uh – she’s wild, too.”

Trevor’s expression was priceless and I fought the urge to scream with laughter.  I was going to kill Rick.  He was going to die tonight.

“I-I-I mean, not like you’d know.  Or – or anything.  Nah – she’s wayyy too hot – too fine.”

This time I did laugh.  This was fucking unbelievable.

Trevor, now obviously fed up, began to gather his things to leave.  Rick had me cornered in the booth, so I reached across the table to grab his arm.  

“Don’t forget the drawings,” I said, taking them from my portfolio.  “Please, look them over again and get back to me with the changes, okay?”

I really need to salvage this contract.  Chris’s survivor benefits and pension and my savings would only get me so far.  I needed a steady stream of income and this contract was the first step to establishing a client base large enough that I wouldn’t need to return to my old firm.  Trevor was a well respected doctor and knew plenty of other people with disposable cash who wanted to build high priced homes.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed, taking the drawings.  “I’ll email you.”

“Don’t l-let the door hit ya on the way out,” Rick said, giving him a salute.  

As soon as Trevor was out of sight, I groaned and covered my face as Rick’s arm retreated from my shoulder.

“Why?” I asked, my voice muffled behind my hands.

He didn’t reply.  He did, however, order us both a scotch on the rocks as the waitress came by to pick up the check.  When the drinks were delivered, I downed mine in one shot and then took his and did the same.  From the corner of my eye, I saw him pull his flask from his lab coat.

I didn’t know what to do; didn’t know how to feel.  Should I be angry?  Humiliated? Flattered?  The truth is, I was all three.

Turing toward Rick again, I noticed he was hunched with his elbows on the table and a slight pink tinge to cheeks.  He appeared just as flabbergasted as I, no doubt, did and I suddenly felt bad for him.  He had completely misinterpreted the situation and acted like a jealous teenager.

Rick Sanchez.  Jealous.

I started giggling, as I always did when feeling awkward.

“What – w-what‘s so fuckin’ funny?” he asked, sounding like a sourpuss.  I giggled harder.

“You really think I’m fine?” I asked, shifting my upper body to fully face him in the booth.

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, though.  What the hell was that?”

Again, no response.  He knew that I knew.  The waitress dropped off my debit card and receipt at the far end of the table.

“By the way –” I said, reaching across him to fetch my card while making sure to press my tits against his arm in the process, “– Trevor is totally gay.”

 To be continued…

[ganglylimbs]

Sharp Teeth and Bared Throats

Pairing: Trevor/Ryan/Gavin

Summary:  The King has a lot of fine things. Glittery jewels, silk pillows, and golden crowns. But the two things the King holds most dear are the pretty Courtesan and Advisor that warm his bed regularly. There are always whispers surrounding the three of them, but the King doesn't worry. His pretty boys have sharp teeth.

Notes: The boys are not good people, but at least they love each other. This is a King au with casual murder and violence. It’s completely self-indulgent and I have no regrets. 

If you would like to buy me a coffee, I would really appreciate it.

The market was busy, crowds of people pushing each other to get the supplies they need. Gavin easily blended in with the commoners in his sandy brown cloak and loose fitting clothes. He made sure to keep his head low as he moved with the crowd. Around him, he could hear people selling their wares, calling out their prices and trying to entice someone over to them.

“Warm furs! Skinned from the finest animals found outside the Kingdom! Warmest pelts you’ll ever find.”

“Fresh bread! Fresh bread!”

“Get your meat here! Bear meat, wolf meat, fox meat, beaver meat. All kind of exotic meats. Don’t like exotic? We have cow, pork, and chicken too.”

Gavin mumbled a low “Excuse me” as he pushed past a group gathered around someone selling fruit from the South and stopped in front of the stall where a young boy was shouting about meat. Gavin’s nose wrinkled at the bloody mess and idly wondered if he should buy anything.

“We need more.” A gruff voice said, somewhere to the right of him where two men were leaning in to talk to each other.

Michael would love a nice big piece.  Gavin thought. He bent down to expect the example slices. He’s been saying he hasn’t had anything as good as the bear meat he got when scouting around the Tillian Kingdom.

“The King will not let us have anymore. We’ve already exhausted the supplies he had allowed us.” The other man added, this one calmer than the first.

And Jeremy too. He deserves a reward for winning in that tournament.

“We’ll just tell him that the supplies never made it to us. That they got lost along the way. Obviously stolen by thieves. Or…we ask him if he even sent the supplies in the first place.” The first guy answered, sounding pleased with himself. Gavin could imagine the grin on his face, so sure of his clever plan.

“Are you mad? The King will have our heads the second those words leave your lips.”

“The King wouldn’t bother. Why would he, we are just some lowly builders.” The words were sneered. “I’m sure he will listen to my what I have to say. I have a golden tongue after all.”

Gavin smiled, something sharp about it, before looking up at the butcher. “Two large bear flanks, please.” He handed over the money and got a grunt in return as the man went to fulfill his order.

“This is a stupid plan and you are going to get us killed.” The second voice sounded resigned.

“Everything will be fine. The King doesn’t keep records, he has people for that. It should be easy to convince him that there was some mistake on his part.” The voices were fading, getting distant as they walked away. Gavin didn’t bother following. Instead, he hummed a soft tune, something he remembered his mother singing to him in his youth as he waited for his meat.

“Thank you.” Gavin said, grabbing his packages. He whistled as he continued to stroll through the market. He only stopped at one other place to pick up a trinket, something silly that he knew Trevor would laugh at, before heading towards the Palace.

                                                            ~

King Haywood sat high in his throne, hands resting lightly on the stone arms. Around him, candlelight flickered, creating shadows on the walls. It looked much darker in here, though he knew the sun was high in the sky. Red and gold decorated the walls, as well as Ryan’s coat of arms. Haywood could hear the soft mummers of his Court as they mulled around his throne room, already bored with today’s proceedings.

Haywood hid his smirk at the thought.

Below him, two of the builders from the 4th Quadrant kneeled before him, talking about how they were out of supplies and that the ones Haywood had granted before had not arrived. Well, one talked. The other would glance up at the King from time to time before remembering himself and looking back down. They were dressed in brown long sleeve tunics. The large red band wrapped around their arm displayed their title, the small one beneath that told the King that the black haired man was the leader of the project. He thinks the leader’s name is Reggie. Haywood watched them, face blank as he took everything in. As soon as Reggie fell silent, the King spoke.

“So you believe that your supplies were stolen?” Haywood spoke slowly, each syllable pronounced. He wanted to make sure there was no confusion about what he was asking.

“Yes, My King.”

“You are sure?”

“Yes, My King.”

Haywood hummed. He turned to the servant that stood by the base of his throne. “Kerry, get Advisor Pattillo. This issue needs to be fixed.” His eyes did not miss the way that two looked at each other, Reggie smiling.  “I’m glad that you brought this to my attention. Stealing from me is a serious crime, one that needs to be punished.”

“Of course, My King.”

Before the servant could reach it, the side door that leads deeper into his castle opened. Casually strolling through was a young man, with shaggy brown hair and the beginning of a beard. He was decked out in the royal colors, red clothes clinging to his body and gold hanging off of him. He gave the servant a cheery wave, green eyes bright as he told him. “I do not believe that will be necessary, My King.”

Kerry instantly skittered to the side and the rest of the Court suddenly took an interest. Haywood tilted his head. “Gavin. What has brought you here?” The two builders seemed agitated by the intrusion, shifting around and frowning at each other, though they did not say anything.

Gavin took no notice of them. Instead, he headed straight towards the King. “Oh, Ryan. Can’t I visit you every now and then? I get so bored, sitting around in my room all day.” Gavin lightly threw himself over the King’s lap, hands wrapped around broad shoulders.

Haywood did not move, face still blank. “But you did not stay in your room.”

“Noooo. I didn’t.” Gavin sighed, moving around so he was fully sitting up. He laid his head against Ryan’s chest. “I decided to entertain myself by going to the market today. Bought some meat, bought some jewelry. You know how I love my jewelry, really it’s been a month since you’ve bought me anything. I’m starting to think you’ve lost interest.” Ryan’s mouth twitched. “Oh, and I heard an interesting conversation.”  

“My King, I believe we were in the middle of something.” Reggie spoke up.

He was silenced by the cold look the King gave him.

Gavin grinned at the man, wide and full of teeth. “I think you will find this story interesting too. See, while I was buying my meat,  I overheard two men talking. Something about….oh what was it….”

He tilted his head, eyes meeting theirs. “Something about trying to trick the King out of building material?”

The room fell still. Like everyone was holding their breath. Waiting. Gavin had the builder’s attention now. The King’s face was still blank. All he said was “Oh?”

“Yeahhhh.” Gavin drew out the word, let it fall around them. “I thought I must have misheard them. Because who would try to trick the King, right?” Gavin’s laugh was carefree. It echoed off the room. “But then I find out that lovely Ryan here is meeting with a couple of builders who claim they lost their supplies. And I couldn’t help thinking to myself, where have I heard that before?” He paused, letting them draw their own conclusions. “Now isn’t that a coincidence.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Reggie said, after a moment. His partner was starting to look nervous.

“Hear that Ryan. Doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Well, maybe this will help you remember.” Gavin stood up. Ryan let him, hand slowly falling from Gavin’s hip. The courtesan slowly started walking towards them. “You work for Forman, who has been trusted with building the shops around here. Your name is Reggie Barlons, who has been denied entry into the Knights and couldn’t even become a simple Guard. You floated around for a bit, from job to job, until your brother recommended a job as a builder. From there you’ve bullied and blackmailed your way to your position now.”

“That’s not-No.” Reggie denied. His partner was trying to slowly move away from him.

Gavin hummed, still walking oh so slowly around the still two kneeling builders. “You also have a bad habit of thievery, huh Reggie. Halving payment for those beneath you so that you can fill your pocket more. You sell whatever you can and claim that they had mysteriously disappeared. So is that what happened? You take one too many things and don’t know how to explain to your boss where they went? So now you’ve come, begging to the King? Are you hoping to make some extra supplies from those you don’t need?”

Reggie seemed stunned, mouth opening and closing. Haywood leaned forward in his seat, watching the entire spectacle with a small smirk. “Well, Reggie?” He drawled. “Was that what you were hoping for?”

“No! No, My King, I would never.” Reggie started to sputter. He looked around wildly before landing on his partner. “I-It was his idea! George was the one to suggest the selling. I was just going along with it because he threatened my family. My poor wife and children. Please.”

“Me!” George exclaimed. “I was the one trying to talk you out of it. But no, Mr. Golden Tongue. You had to go with this.” George turned towards the King. “Please, sire. He’s the mastermind behind this. Nothing I could say would deter him.”

The two dissolved into bickering, both trying to put the blame on the other. Ryan made eye contact with Gavin, smirk widening as Gavin rolled his eyes. The King let the fighting go on for a few more minutes before he stood up.

“Silence.” His command echoed around the room. Instantly, the room went quiet. With loud, thumping steps, he began walking down from his throne. “Enough with this. George Gallining. I know about your side business, the gambling without one of my permits or paying the required tax.” George winced. “But your offenses are nowhere near the level that Reggie has.”

“But sire-“ Reggie started to speak.

Haywood glared at him. “You have insulted both my intelligence and my kindness. I was warned that you would do this to me, which is why I had my spy check you out.” He reached out to place a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin fluttered his eyelashes at Reggie before reaching down to pull out the knife that Ryan kept at his side. “And what he found, I did not like. This…This was the last straw.”

“No! No, no, no.” Reggie began to beg. He threw himself at Ryan’s feet. “Please, Your Majesty. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I’ll never do it again. My family they-“

He was silenced by Gavin’s knife across his throat.

Everyone watched, passively, as Reggie began to choke on his own blood. Except for George, whose face was frozen, horrified. He jerked at Gavin’s touch to his shoulder. “Let this be a warning to you, Georgie. Best be getting those permits of yours.”

George quickly nodded. With a flick of Haywood’s wrist, George was dismissed. He fled, pale and shaky.

As soon as the throne room door was closed, Gavin let out a high pitched laugh. “Did he see his face?” He asked, turning sparkling eyes towards Ryan.

Ryan nodded. He lightly kicked the body, nose scrunching up. “Get this trash away from here.” He called. A couple of guards stepped forward, dragging the body away. Ryan and Gavin walked back towards Ryan’s throne, hand in hand before sitting down, Gavin in Ryan’s lap.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.” Ryan commented.

“I was. He was pretty interesting. No one seemed to like him and were eager to give me any dirt they could. He was a sorry person.” Gavin hummed. “The conversation this morning was amusing. You should have heard the way he talked.”

Ryan chuckled, one hand coming up to wrap around Gavin’s waist. He listened to Gavin talk as the Court went back to normal.

                                                         ~

Trevor walked carefully along the edge of the house. The night had fully settled, the moon hidden by clouds. Below him, he could hear an owl hoot. Some crickets were chirping but stopped as Trevor’s shadow passed over them. Trevor grinned as he leaned closer to the building. A party was going on inside. Music floated out and he could hear people murmuring.

Perfect.

Trevor climbed higher, jumping from place to place. He lightly knocked on a window, waiting for a few heartbeats, before pushing at it. It opened. The servant girl fulfilled her promise then. He crawled inside and looked around. He knew from earlier scouting that this was an empty guest room, used more for show than as an actual bedroom.

With quick feet, he crossed the room and peeked out the door, noting that the hallway appeared empty. According to his information, what Trevor was looking for was a few floors below him and to the right. Taking a deep breath, he began to sneak his way there.

At the second set of stairs, he heard a creek and the sound of voices trying to be quiet. Trevor’s heart jumped before he was running back up, choosing a random room to hide in. He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see two sets of eyes looking at him with confusion. The way they were clutching the covers to their chest and the smell of sex told Trevor exactly what they were doing. Before they could scream, Trevor ran forward, a knife appearing in his hand. “Make a sound and I won’t hesitate to slit your throat. You forget you ever saw me, got it.”

They mutely nodded at him. Giving them a grin, his knife slid back into his sleeve. He walked back to the door, listening closely. Everything seemed to be clear. He looked back and gave them a wink before slipping out the door.

He made his way down the stairs without any further incident. The hallway he stopped at was not empty. There were many rooms on this floor but the one Trevor wanted had guards stationed by it. There were two guards stationed to either side of it, looking bored. Another guard was walking back and forth, hand at the ready of his sword. Trevor ducked back behind the corner. He took another deep breath. Then he stumbled out. "Heeyyyy, boys. Hoowww you doing?" He slurred, leaning heavily on the wall.

The two guards by the door started giving each other looks and nudges. The one walking rolled his eyes at them before turning back towards Trevor. "This area is off limits."

"I-I-I was just...just walking. These, hic, these stairs are amazing! Have you walked these stairs?" Trevor kept walking forward, making sure that he stumbled every now and then.

"Sir, I must ask you to turn around now."

"Oh come on, Commander. He's harmless."

"And cute." The other piped up, eyeing Trevor. "Hey cutie, what's your name."

"Hic, st-stairs." Trevor said, before dissolving into giggles.

"Yeah, real funny." The commander said, sighing. "But seriously, you cannot be up here."

Trevor had just reached the commander. He stumbled into him and the commander caught him. "I'm real sorry." Trevor slurred.

The commander smiled. "It's ok. You're just drunk."

"Oh, I'm not sorry for that." Suddenly, Trevor stood up, flashing his knife. He plunged his knife into the commander’s head, before turning to throwing another knife at the guard closest to him. The other guard gave a shout as his friends fell and tried to draw his sword but Trevor was already there, slicing across his throat. He caught the body and slowly set it down on the floor. He wiped the blood from his face and smiled down at them. "Sorry boys, just part of the business."

Trevor walked back to the commander, grabbing the keys off him. He waited for a second, listening to see if anyone had heard the commotion. When no one came, he then opened the door to his prize.

Jewels and coins twinkled in the candlelight. Red and green and, of course, gold. Trevor picked a few up pieces, noting that Gavin would love them. But what he was really after was the large necklace that was hidden behind a few crowns and other large jewels.

Trevor didn't consider himself vindictive. Really, he didn't. But then again this wasn't an everyday kind of robbery. Matt and Jeremy had come to him, talking about how some Nobel had been rubbing it in Ryan's face about the many things he had been able to buy recently. It would be funny (someone trying to compete with the King for the most lavish things bought) if Ryan didn’t find it so annoying. But this was a fancy business man who Ryan couldn’t afford to offend, though both Trevor and Gavin had both volunteered to do something about it. But just because Ryan said they couldn't cause physical harm didn't mean that Trevor couldn't cause a little embarrassment. He got Gavin to use his connections, find out what he had bought recently before Trevor began doing a little digging himself. Turns out the Nobleman was going to present a very special, very expensive necklace to his wife tonight and later probably to his mistress. Trevor figured that it will be punishment enough if the necklace would suddenly go missing. Trevor grinned and picked the jewelry up. It would look really good on him or on Gavin or on Ryan. Especially if one or all three were naked. Trevor’s smile turned lecherous. Yeah, he couldn't wait for that.

                                                         ~

There are rules when living in the Haywood Kingdom. Strict rules to bid by with harsh punishments. King Haywood was a fan of the thought that by dueling out horrible punishments, it would show the people what not to do.

He would cut off the hands of thieves, have murders tortured in public, and the heads of his enemies on spikes around his territories. You do not cross the King. You do not anger him.

But most importantly, you do not slander the names of those he protects.

Geoff and Jack laugh off the King’s attempts to protect them. Ramsey because he’s been doing this long enough to know that no one can touch him anyways and Pattillo because he’s the most forgiving of the King’s Advisors.

With Michael, Ryan didn’t have to protect him. All he had to do was give the younger man a name and let him go. By nightfall, who ever had wronged the Jones’ was dealt with. Jeremy was beginning to follow in Michael’s footsteps, but he still accepted the King’s protection. Ryan knows how nice it must feel to the Knight to have someone looking out for him.

But no one, absolutely no one, could talk bad about the King’s lovers.

Gavin might be a courtesan, but no one could deny the possessive way Ryan’s hands would glide over him whenever Gavin made an appearance in Court. For those too blind to see it, Ryan made it very clear when he had one offender (who thought of Gavin as a cheap trick, a dirty hole who wouldn’t mind) publicly poisoned at one of his balls. It took killing a few more people for everyone to get the message through. But it did eventually.

Then there was Trevor, the King’s youngest Advisor. While he didn’t need protecting from people trying to sleep with him (though there was no shortage of people who would and who tried- a perfectly placed bite mark on his throat by the King mostly stopped that) but there were those who liked to whisper about how Trevor became an Advisor. They told stories about how Trevor seduced the King, spread his legs to get where he was at. They would laugh about how it won’t be long, that soon the King will grow tired and Trevor will be out of a job.

The last Advisor who said that was burned alive. The King had a pig cooked over him.

Trevor and Gavin didn’t mind their King’s protectiveness, though they knew they didn’t need it. They had been killers for a long time, since they were little boys, and had learned how to hide their teeth until the throat was presented for them. Not many knew of their nighttime activities- what would the Court say, the King sleeping with such dangers- and so were used to others underestimating them. But they found the possessiveness and protectiveness sweet.

There were other whispers they let go, that they told the King to not bother with. Whispers about how one day, the Advisor and the Courtesan will kill each other in a bid to be the only one allowed in the King’s bed. They let those ones live, calming Ryan’s anger. Because it was all so funny to them.

None of these people were there for when the two were alone, wrapping their fingers around each other, leaving their prints on the other. No one was present for when the two would bend their heads close together, planning and laughing. Nor was anyone there to see when Trevor would take Gavin to the roof to point out stars or when Gavin would take Trevor to see the new born kittens Lady Lindsay was keeping. They stole stuff for each other, made a game of it. They kissed and laid together and would maim anyone who tried to take that away.

                                                          ~

“Lord Edgar.” Gavin caught the Advisor’s attention, giving the other a small smile. “I was hoping to catch you.”

Lord Edgar was a tall, intimidating figure dressed up in red and gold robes. He had a pinched looking face and his salt and pepper hair had started to recede. The man raised one eyebrow, the rest of his face staying as static as ever. Gavin kept grinning at him until the man was forced to respond. “Yes?”

Lord Edgar was a conniving strategist. Everyone knew he strived to be King but no one could pin any evidence of sabotage to him. Ryan was wary of him but he couldn’t get rid of him as Edgar was their go-between the Severath Kingdom. Without him, the possibility of war was high.  Ryan knew that. Edgar knew that. Everyone else knew that too. And Edgar took every opportunity to use that to his advantage.

Gavin kept his smile light and body relaxed. He knew Edgar was looking him over. While the Advisor would never do anything so crass as to make a move, he also knew Edgar desired him. And Trevor. But Gavin was used to being desired by disgusting people, so he didn’t let it get to him.

“I was hoping to talk to you about something I heard recently.” Gavin let a little worry in his voice, tilting his head as he frowned. Edgar didn’t say anything so Gavin added. “It’s about the King.”

That sparked Edgar’s attention. He nodded. “Go on.”

“See, I heard the King mumbling to himself lately. Something about…seeing demons to the North?”

Edgar did not move or show any outward emotions but Gavin could see the way he suddenly went rigid. “Has he?”

“Oh yes,” Gavin said, letting his concern show. “I know that you have spies in that area and I was hoping you could tell me if there are? Just so I could put my King’s mind to ease?”

“Come now. You don’t really believe in such things do you?”

Gavin chuckled. “Of course not. But it is my duty to relieve the King in all things. Having his Advisor assure him that no such things exist would surely do that, would it not?”

“Well, I assure you. There are no such things as demons.” Edgar said, smiling a little.

“What now?” Added a new voice.

Both Edgar and Gavin turned to see that Trevor had joined them. He was dressed in the same robes as Edgar was but Gavin thought they looked better on him. “What’s this about demons?” Trevor repeated. Gavin told him his worries and Trevor frowned.

“Just our dear King being silly.” Edgar paused, tilting his head a little. “I hope this isn’t the first sign of madness?”

Gavin worried his bottom lip a bit. “I hope not.”

“Well, maybe we should have a doctor look at him? Make sure everything is alright with him?” Edgar pressed.

Gavin frowned, thinking about it. Trevor spoke up. “Maybe we should send a small party up North? Have the King check it out?”

“Why?” Edgar asked at the same time Gavin brightened. “That would great. He’s been wanting to go up North for awhile, talk to the people there. We could make a trip of it.”

“I don’t think-“ Edgar began but was interrupted by Trevor again.

“It would be a great way to get their morale up.” Trevor grinned at him.

“Really.” Edgar tried again. “That is most unnecessary.”

“Oh come on, Edgar.” Gavin grinned at him. “What’s the harm? It’ll be a fun little trip, the people get to see their King, and the King gets to see that his worries are for nothing.”

Both Gavin and Trevor could see that Edgar was silently fuming. “I suppose.” He gritted out before turning around and leaving.

They waited till he was out of sight before smiling at each other. “You know that will only stop his spies from stirring up shit for a few weeks at most.” Trevor observed.

“Not if we keep pushing the trip off.” Gavin replied.

Trevor shook his head. “You’re horrible. You’re using this as an excuse to take a trip to the North.”

“They do have the best chocolate. And as if you’re any better.” Gavin lightly pushed him. “What’d you take from him this time.”

Trevor shrugged, holding up a small pouch. “I think it’s his wallet? Or emergency spell supplies? Who knows with that guy.”

Gavin considered it for a moment. “Want to throw it down a well and then plan our getaway with the King?”

“Absolutely.”

                                                            ~

Ryan sighed as he soaked in his large tub, letting the warm watch sooth each ache. The rose-scented water worked to calm his mind. To each side of him were his boys, telling him about their day and running sponges down his body. Ryan closed his eyes and let their words run over him.

Being the King was a dangerous thing. One mistake, one foot set in the wrong direction, and it all could come crashing down on his head.

Times like this, when he was with his boys seemed to like the only times when he could fully relax.

There had been a time, long ago, when his Advisors would have refused to let his boys be alone with him. Ryan never worried. He saw them for what they were. Wild animals that were ready to rip and tear into anyone if it meant they could live one more day. They were weapons that needed a little sharpening and a gentle hand to point them in the right direction. Ryan gladly took them under his wing, let them blossom into their full protentional.

With time, their bond grew. The boys went from being wary of him, creeping around as if afraid at any moment they would be thrown back to the streets, to gladly dropping to their knees for him. Ryan savored the way they let him keep his power over them.

Ryan was roused from his thoughts as Gavin poked at his shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep on us.” He teased.

Ryan sent him a lazy smile. “I cannot help that your fingers are made of magic.” He captured one of Gavin’s hands bringing them up so he could press a kiss to the inside of Gavin’s wrist.

Trevor snorted. “Such flattery.”

Ryan turned his smile to him. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

Trevor shrugged, but he was smiling back. “Pretty words are just that. Pretty.”

“Ah, but when laced with truth than they turn to poetry.” Ryan countered, sitting up.

Trevor rolled his eyes but allowed Ryan to pull him down into a kiss. It was a chaste one, both too tired for more tonight, but sweet in the way Trevor was never used to.

They pulled away, Ryan making sure to keep contact with both of them. “Now. You were saying something about having caught the Count Bavon with a mistress?”

Trevor grinned and Gavin nodded, both going back to explaining their day of stirring up Court drama. Ryan let his eyes roam over them, listening attentively.

Another peaceful night spent with his boys. These were the moments that made being King all worth it.

[incorrect-pokespe-quotes]

The Phantom of the Musical

I hope it’s not too late for me to enter this for the AU fanfic contest. This isn’t exactly a traditional AU - the story pretty much follows the plot of the musical Phantom of the Opera, and references most of the songs from it - but it is definitely an alternate universe, and includes a lot of worldbuilding to get all the characters to where they are. I currently have 12 chapters completed and am working on the 13th, so this is pretty much just a preview of the project & it may be edited by the time I start posting the whole story. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1 - Newbies

The stunning soprano sang boisterously to the nonexistent audience, throwing her arms into the air as if gathering their praises and drawing them into herself. Each of her steps was pompously placed on the stage, jostling her hair, which dangled above the thin white shawl that covered her shoulders. She held her head just above relaxed position, but not so high that she couldn’t look down on the empty seats that stretched out in front of her.

Behind her, the chorus girls – or, as she preferred to call them, the background dancers – mimicked her movement around the stage, but with more fluid and graceful motions. Their magenta and black dresses had been chosen specifically to compliment the soprano’s pink and white dress; she had tried to get the blonde girl to wear a wig so her own hair would stand out more, but the girl’s mother refused and got her way only because she managed the ballet chorus.

Per the script, the scene that they were rehearsing included a pair of Audino to dance with the soprano, but the Audino in question were being borrowed for the afternoon by the Pokémon Musical team for a special demonstration show. She liked it that way, since those two Pokémon weren’t hogging her stage.

Backstage, the head of the Musical Theater watched the practice. Her arms were folded and she had a pensive expression on her face. “What’s on your mind, White?” asked the ballet manager, who was watching the practice next to her.

White didn’t react immediately. The ballet manager had to repeat her name a few times before she finally registered the question. “Oh! Sorry,” she said with a sigh. “There’s a producer from the Sinnoh region visiting today who’s creating a documentary on alternatives to battling for Pokémon Trainers, so we’re doing a special demonstration Musical for him. As the creator and head of the Pokémon Musical I ought to be there to help. But this show has to be ready for tonight…”

“Your team is quite capable,” she reassured White.

“I know you’re right, Iris,” White replied. “But I can’t let this overbooking problem happen again.” She glanced behind her and saw two young men approaching them. “Perfect! Your timing is impeccable, gentlemen,” she told them. Then she headed onstage and waved to the maestro to stop the music.

“You’re doing fine, everyone,” she called. “But I have an announcement to make.”

The soprano’s arms fell. She seemed offended that anyone would dare interrupt her performance. The chorus girls, the maestro, the stagehands, and the tenor who had just come onstage all gathered around White, Iris, and the two young men that they didn’t recognize.

“As you know, for some time there have been rumors of my imminent retirement,” White began. “I can now tell you that these were all false. I am twenty-four years old and I have a long work life ahead of me. However, I don’t intend to work myself to death. Between the Pokémon Musical, Musical Shows, Pokéstar Studios and my BW Agency, I don’t get a moment’s rest and I still don’t have time to do everything I need to do. So,” she continued, gesturing to the two men beside her, “I’ve hired these two gentlemen to manage the Musical Shows from now on. Please, introduce yourselves.”

“Gladly!” exclaimed the bigger of the two men in a thick Kalosian accent. He looked a bit out of place in his baggy cargo pants and brown-and-white striped polo shirt. “My name is Tierno André. I have been a native of the Kalos region for 22 years, and been dancing for 17. Consider me your expert of song and dance!”

“I will be taking care of more of the business side of things,” the other man said, quite the opposite of his companion in terms of height, weight, and attire. His cream-colored suit framed his slight figure well and matched his wire-frame glasses, but didn’t quite match his bright orange bob of hair. “My name is Trevor Firmin. I am also from Kalos, and it is my pleasure to work with you all.”

“We would also like to introduce to you our new patron,” Tierno adds. “The Viscount of Chenonceau…here he is now!”

A young man in a navy-blue suit walked up from the wing, waving and flashing a beautiful white smile. His messy brown hair fell around his face in a handsome way, and his light-gray eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“My parents and I are honored to support the arts,” the viscount said coolly, shaking White’s hand. “Especially those held in this world-renowned Musical Theater.”

The soprano strode up to him and offered out her hand. He shook it politely, and she mirrored his smile. “Viscount,” White said with a hint of reluctance, “Lady Yvonne Gābena. Our leading soprano for the last six seasons.”

This introduction was followed by a courteous but quick round of applause, and the tenor gave a polite cough. “Ah, and we mustn’t forget Leo Piangi,” White says, gesturing to the lanky young boy behind Yvonne. He looked slightly ridiculous because of his costume, which required a pair of green foam monster legs that made his movements sluggish and awkward.

“Good to meet you, sir,” the viscount nodded to him. “But I believe I’m keeping you from your rehearsal. I look forward to this evening’s performance.”

“Yes, yes, thank you, sir,” the maestro said briskly. “Now, Monsieur André, Monsieur Firmin, you’ll need to acquaint yourselves with the script. Yvonne, please keep your chin down when you sing. I can hear you choking your voice when you hold it that high. Leo, your footsteps are too loud. I don’t need to hear exactly when you run onstage.”

Yvonne folded her arms crossly, Leo nodded obediently and White left the stage with the viscount. The rest of the crew dispersed to their own jobs and the performers returned to their practice. Iris took the new managers upstage, where they could watch the chorus girls dance without interrupting their performance. “We’re quite proud of our ballet chorus, monsieur,” Iris informed them.

“I can see why,” Tierno replied. “You train them all, signora?”

“Skip the formalities, if you please,” Iris said. “A simple ‘Mrs. Giry’ will suffice. I am the ballet manager, so naturally I make sure all our chorus girls perform splendidly.”

“That little blonde angel is especially talented,” Tierno commented.

“My daughter, Yuki Giry.”

“And that exceptional beauty!” Trevor butted in, pointing to another chorus girl. Two long strands of her dark brown hair followed her as she moved; the rest of it was held up in buns on either side of her head. “No relation, I trust?”

“Whitley Daaé,” Iris identified her. “Very promising talent. Very promising.”

“Daaé?” Tierno echoed. “Any relation to the famous violinist from Fiore?”

“Her only child. Orphaned at twelve, when she came to live at the Theater and train in the ballet. She’s like a daughter to me.”

Iris brought the pair to the other side of the stage, where they watched the performers finish the routine. Once they were finished, the maestro, frowning, called to Yvonne. “Lady Gābena, you need to keep your steps light as well.”

Yvonne lifted a hand to her head in a dramatic flourish. “Chin down, arms up, feet light,” she moaned. “Will the maestro ever be satisfied?”

He exchanged glances with Iris and looked back at Yvonne. “I will be satisfied when you can get it right,” he replied.

“When I can get it right!?” she repeated shrilly. “I–” She broke off when she noticed White and the viscount returning and quickly spun around, storming off in a huff. “I will not put up with this – this harassment any longer!” she shrieked.

“My, she’s overreacting a bit,” Trevor commented. “Miss White, calm her down, will you?”

“Ah, but isn’t that your job now?” White said, feigning surprise. She handed him the copy of the script that she had gone to get, then smirked and added in a fake Kalosian accent, “Good luck, messieurs. You will need it.”

The new show heads were taken aback by White’s response. She gestured towards the opposite side of the stage, where Yvonne was arguing with a blonde stagehand. Trevor and Tierno exchanged glances and quickly hurried over to her.

“Where is my precious Furfrou?” Yvonne demanded.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” the stagehand replied awkwardly. “Er, weren’t your assistants taking care of it?”

“Then fetch them!” Yvonne shouted. Trevor and Tierno stood awkwardly behind her. Finally, Trevor cleared his throat.

“Signora,” he said hesitantly. “Please, calm down. There is no need for all this.”

“There is complete need for all of this!” Yvonne cried. “I deserve respect, but these – these beasts give me none! I cannot spend another day working for these ghastly people!”

“Do not say that, Lady Gābena,” Tierno interjected. “We have only just arrived. Allow us some time to get settled in, to see what you can do, all right?”

Yvonne scowled, and they could tell that she wasn’t convinced. Suddenly, Trevor had an idea. “A song!” he exclaimed, flipping through the script. “Ah – the aria in Act III, perhaps? You should sing it for us, Lady Gābena.”

“Well,” Yvonne huffed. “I suppose I could manage one song. Reyer!” she snapped. “You know the song.”

The maestro sighed and began to conduct the orchestra. Yvonne began to sing the aria in a very operatic style, stretching every note and forcing the orchestra to play much slower than the recommended tempo for the song. He hated it, but he knew trying to correct her would just make her even more insufferable. She hardly listened to him in the first place.

Suddenly, screams from onstage caught his attention and he looked up from the music in time to watch one of the backdrops falling to the stage, just behind Yvonne. The maestro quickly stopped the musicians and made his way onstage as people clamored to check on Yvonne and speculated about what had just happened. “He’s here!” Yuki Giry’s voice rose above the others. “The Phantom of the Musical!” The viscount glanced at her in interest.

“Bianca!” Maestro Reyer called to the blonde stagehand, who had gone up to work in the rafters. “Bianca Buquet, what’s going on up there?”

“Please, Cheren, don’t look at me!” Bianca protested. “I wasn’t at that post…and there’s no one up here besides me,” she continued. “If there is, well…he must be a ghost!”

There was more murmuring from onstage. “Signora, these things do happen,” Trevor offered nervously, attempting to laugh it off.

“‘These things do happen,’ eh?” Yvonne repeated, chuckling softly. “You have been here five minutes, what do you know?” she hissed. “‘These things do happen’ all the time! For the past three years, these things do happen!” She spun around and pointed a finger at White, who was conversing quietly with Iris near the edge of the stage. “And did you stop them from happening? No!”

White was a little taken aback to be addressed so directly, but she said nothing – what could she say? Yvonne’s accusations were spot on. “And you…you are just as bad as her!” Yvonne screeched at Trevor. “Until you stop these things from happening, then…this thing,” she pointed to herself, “is not happening! Good day!”

She stormed off the stage, calling, “Xavier! Shauna! Bring me my Furfrou!”

White cleared her throat. “Well, gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s not much more I can do to assist you,” she said. “If you need me, I’ll be giving the viscount a little tour. Good luck, and, ah…please do mind my friend in the rafters.” With this cryptic message, she dragged the viscount off the stage.

Tierno looked quizzically at Cheren. “Mind her ‘friend in the rafters’?”

“Ah, I can answer that, monsieur,” Iris said, walking up between them. She offered them a letter. “I have a message for you from our resident phantom…the Opera Ghost.”

“Oh, good heavens, you’re all obsessed,” Trevor complained.

“He welcomes you to his Musical Theater–”

“His Musical Theater?” Tierno repeated scornfully.

“–and commands that you continue to leave Box 5 empty, for his use.” Iris smiled slyly. “He also reminds you that his salary is due.”

“His salary!”

“Well, Miss White used to give him 600,000 Pokédollars a month.”

“600,000 Pokédollars!?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Iris replied. “Of course, maybe you can afford more, with the viscount as your patron…”

“That’s preposterous!” Tierno spluttered. “Miss White hasn’t left the theater. If she wants to pay this ‘ghost’, then by all means let her continue to do it.”

“But he doesn’t bother with Pokémon Musicals,” Iris informed them. “The Phantom is only interested in Musical Shows.”

“Speaking of Musical Shows,” Cheren interrupted, “we must get back to practicing for the gala tonight.”

“Why bother?” Trevor snapped, snatching the letter from Iris’s hands. “Obviously, we will have to cancel the gala,” he said, ripping up the note, “because it appears we have lost our star!”

“You do realize what it will look like to the public if you cancel Miss White’s birthday gala, right?” Iris interjected. “They’ll see the new managers refusing to celebrate their predecessor. It won’t gain you any favor in the public eye.”

“Surely there must be an understudy for the role,” Tierno said hopefully, in contrast to his partner’s horrified look.

“Understudy?” Cheren echoed incredulously. “There is no understudy for Lady Gābena. She’d never allow it.”

Trevor groaned and rubbed his temples. “What do we do now, André?”

“Whitley Daaé could sing it, sir,” Iris offered. The chorus girl stared at her in surprise. “She has been taking lessons from a great teacher.”

“Who?” Tierno asked skeptically.

“I-I don’t know his name, sir,” Whitley stammered. But how does she know that?

“Let her sing for you, monsieur. She has been well taught,” Iris assured them.

“This is doing nothing for my nerves,” Trevor grumbled as Whitley timidly stepped up in front of them.

“From the beginning of the aria, please, miss,” Cheren called, stepping back to his music stand.

She began slowly, her voice trembling. “Think of me, th-think of me fondly when we’ve…said…”

Her voice trailed off into silence. She couldn’t do it. Not with so many people around, for something so important as the starring role of the show…

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye!

That’s right…he had practiced this part with her so many times that she knew it by heart. He had been encouraging her to do it for so long…she just had to imagine she was back there, practicing with him. All she needed to do was open her mouth and sing.

“Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye! Remember me, once in a while. Please promise me you’ll try! When you’ll find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me!”

She never thought she’d do it, but here she was, Whitley Daaé, standing on the stage in the Musical Theater, singing for hundreds or maybe even thousands of people. It was just like he had said – it felt right.

“We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember, stop and think of me. Think of all the things we’ve shared and seen; don’t think about the way things might have been.” She had a wistful smile on her face as she sat back on the bench, looking up at the pair of Illumise and Volbeat that danced through the air. “Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we’ll never do. There will never be a day when I won’t think of you!”

The viscount watched her performance with muted awe from his personal viewing box. “Can it be? Can it really be Whitley?” he murmured to himself. Long ago, it seemed so long ago, how young and innocent they were. “She may not remember me, but I remember her.”

“Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade. They have their seasons, so do we. But please promise me that sometimes you will think of me!”

The end of Whitley’s song was met with thunderous applause, and she looked out at the audience with excitement sparkling in her eyes. For the first time since her mother’s death, she felt like she could be the performer she always encouraged her to be.