#monsters in your head. monsters in your heart. ˛ mainverse.

[belayadeath-goner]

[ KNUCKLE ]: FELICIA LIFTS BIANCA'S HAND TO HER LIPS, AND PLACES A POLITE KISS TO HER KNUCKLES.

SHE KNOWS HOW TO SET A ROOM ON FIRE; TO ATTRACT THE ATTENTION OF EVERY MAN AND WOMAN THE SAME. always testy, and one to put her lover on display should there be any doubts to whom she belonged. bianca's always found these settings tedious, never one to appreciate extravagance and wealth — though she supposed it was natural for one of her background and status. jade eyes fully fixed upon felicia's figure, watching her with every move; @bllakcat carries herself with such elegance and beauty, yet always so cunningly ferocious. she was not known as the black cat for nothing.

bianca's fingers curl around felicia's, lacing them in between hers to grab a hold of her hand altogether. “  and here i thought we were supposed to lay low tonight. inconspicuous.  ” she noted teasingly, tugging the other woman closer to shift her grip to felicia's waist instead. “  though i ought to know by now that the spotlight loves you far too much.  ”

[sclfmastery]

ThirteenXDhawan Rp excerpt (the premise of his mainverse so do read if you can)

*NSFW* below the cut. 

Supreme Bitch™Today at 3:35 PM

Fall apart he does. Screaming, wordless and guttural, building  from a moan to a roar, straining the hinges of the wooden (sonic-proof) bedframe, rendering a hurricane of the sheets and their mixed-up pile of clothing.  Holding her down by hands that dwarf hers, arms over her head, lunging and lunging, black curls in his moist eyes.  Scratching and biting  between each orgasm, for inexhaustible hours. Until even he is sore, and covered in scratches, bites and bruises, on his side beside her, petting her face as she rests.

The words that follow a long period of exhausted rest are hoarse, tempered with gentleness, and very, very soft:  "I'll always love you. No matter where you go." " . . . . but go you should." He pulls himself upright, and forces himself to turn away. "For now. ""I don't trust myself . . . to remain kind.  Not yet."

Supreme Dumbass™Today at 6:18 PM

She loses track of time with him, the hours blurring until it might have been days or weeks they've spent together. The Doctor is spent and satisfied, a wonderful dull ache in her every muscle. She thinks the Master is beautiful in his feverish passion, and she takes the marks of his love while returning many of her own.  The Doctor is very nearly asleep, his gentle touch on her skin, the scent of him all around her. It's bliss. But that bliss shatters when he finally speaks, as does her hearts. "Master...?" she whispers, rolling into her side and watching his back as he remains turned away. He wants her to leave. Whatever the reason he gives her, the reality stings like salt in the scratches he's left on her skin.  "I... I don't need you to be kind to me... I just need... I just need you. Do you really want me to go?" She sits up, and for the first time since he tore off her clothes, the Doctor truly feels naked.

Supreme Bitch™Today at 7:13 PM

" . . .but I need to be kind to you."  He turns back to face her, still naked, bloodshot eyes moist all over again.  "I need to be something other than your monster to muzzle back in the 1940s stranded on earth. More than your villain who makes you feel superior. I need to show you there's more to me." He turns around fully, and reclines with her.

"Let me be clear. I don't wanna go away and never talk to you again.  Here is my proposal." He's every inch O--betraying the truth that O was always a real part of him, and not a mere facade. O, and everything O ever did.

"We exchange numbers.  You go back to your TARDIS.   We talk like you talked to Agent O, now that you know he's me. Every day.  Hours at a time, if you like. But remote, until I can be sure I can control my . . . ." 

 He averts his eyes to the ground and grinds his jaw.

 " . . . impulses.  Theta,"  and at least he's said her name. "I can't do another Vault, Theta. Ever again. And if I ever actually succeeded in hurting you, I would be as good as dead too."

He swallows loudly. "Please, I swear. I'm not trying to punish you. I'm not."

[belayadeath-goner]

SCOTT SUMMERS: i'm sorry.

he said, and those two words repeated in the back of her mind over and over again. but no matter how many times he said it, it simply bounced off with no visible reaction from her. instead, bianca remained still, hands braced on top of the parapet wall of the balcony overlooking the gardens. one thing she had registered was the weather changing, it was getting darker, a storm brewing on the horizon and that familiar smell of rain in the air.

SCOTT SUMMERS: tell me how to make it better.

a drop lands on her cheek, and bianca had to brace it in order to determine whether it was a tear or a droplet of rain. the single drop was wiped over her, before finally her gaze drifted and her head tilted back to settle upon the darkened skies above. it was about to pour, sooner or later. “ i don't know if you can. ” were the first words she spoke in a while, the one's she could muster at a time like this. she always found her tongue twisting and turning, stumbling over it whence feelings were involved. “ i don't know, @opt1clops ... i just wish you'd have told me. ” all the the things they'd shared together, moments of tenderness or intimacy, any fond memory she had of them were slowly being tainted by the idea of him and her. and the thought of herself only existing in his life as a mere replacement. “ or maybe i just feel like an idiot for not realizing it myself. ” i had to hear it from someone else... the look on their face as they'd realized bianca didn't know about scott and jean. everyone knew. except for her. “ or maybe i did know, and just didn't wanna believe it. i mean, i've seen the way you look at her. ” they'd been married; they'd shared a love deeper and stronger than anyone had ever seen before, one bianca certainly had never experienced herself. she'd always known — even if after meeting him she began to doubt it — it was never her lot in life. to love, to be loved.

        a set of drops fall to kiss her forehead, as the sound of the incoming rain began to ring up the gardens. “ i didn't come here to be your jean-rebound. ”

“ if i am, i pray you tell me now and stop making a fool out of me. ”

[belayadeath-goner]

MASON GREENE: i'm staying away from trouble. @greenelight

oh, the irony in his words and this whole situation, a would-be laughing-stock to most, but her expression remains coolly, quiet, as she dabbed a wetted cloth to mason's bruised knuckles. even if his intentions were as true as his words, was he not currently deep in the lion's den — coming face to face with a wolf in sheep's clothing. “ and how's that going for you, hm? ” it wasn't spoken with any ill tones or underlying sarcasm, though she did in fact sit there with proof of the opposite. but who was she to judge, even to this day, after attempting to leave her former self behind and start anew, she winds up just like this more often than not.

          “ you don't need to tell me what happened, but... would you like me to call someone? ” she does not yet even know his name, but one didn't need to in order to offer such a simple kindness.

[belayadeath-goner]

B. BRAEDEN: IF YOU GO, I'M GOING TOO. @f0ndmemry.

“  i don't intend on talking about this again, ben.  ” talking, arguing. either way, she knew they weren't going to get anywhere with it. “  my decision's final. they're after you, and your blood.  ” it would be absolute lunacy for you to go, she wants to say, but no such words leave her tongue. there's no reason to add more fuel to the growing fire. “  let me do what i do best.  ” despite her reluctance to get back in the field, to kill and maim again, if this was the price of his freedom: so be it. “  or do you not trust me?  ”

[belayadeath-goner]

STARTER CALL ft. PATRICK BATEMAN @americanedpsycho

SHE'S MADE HERSELF COMFORTABLE ON THE COUCH, LEGS STRETCHED OUT AND FEET RESTED ATOP THE COFFEE TABLE. emerald hues had been scanning over a magazine he'd previously discarded, only for her to leave it as well and settle for relaxing with nothing but the stereo on. by the time he arrived back to the apartment after work, it was to the tune of vivaldi. “  your mother called. she wants us to come for dinner on friday, ”

[belayadeath-goner]

STARTER CALL ft. SIERRA SIX @peacereflected

THERE ARE A THOUSAND WORDS ON HER TONGUE, CRADLED IN THE BACK OF HER THROAT AND EAGER TO BE VOICED, but bianca limits herself. it was neither the time nor the place. the line of her jaw was sharp, and wound tightly down to her thinly pursed lips, no trace of anything but a shade of worry. the damp white cloth was squeezed tightly in her palm and betwixt her fingers when she raised it up to dab against the large purple bruise on six' forehead, encircling a large gash. if he didn't know any better, one might have mistaken her demeanour for one about to give him a scolding rather than being worried. “  i'm not gonna say ' i told you so '.  ”

[belayadeath-goner]

SEBASTIAN MORAN: let me cook you something. @wineassassin

LITHE FINGERS ARE LACED AROUND THE HEAD OF A WINE GLASS SHE HAD NURSED. she's sat with her back against one arm of the couch, giving her the perfect view of where sebastian had sat next to her before and of the kitchen to which he'd moved. legs tucked up under her, bianca wraps her free arm around them just below her knees, curling up against the soft pillows. “  that sounds lovely,  ” she resists getting on her feet to follow him into the kitchen, solely for the fact that he'd insisted she remained seated just moments before. “  though i have to warn you, options may be somewhat limited. i haven't really re - stocked my pantry in... well, in a while.  ” bianca admits with a small apologetic grimace. she wasn't really used to having to supply food for two, aside from the fact that she really generally didn't need to eat a lot.

[belayadeath-goner]

⋆ @warbyrds , C. DANVERS, said: ❛ i didn’t expect you to show. ❜

if only she knew she would break through heavens and the earth for her, to come to her aid when needed or simply called upon. the words on her tongue linger for a moment but eventually falter as she stumble even finding a foothold. for words weren't her greatest strength, or even a strength at all, instead bianca finds gestures a better way to express herself. there weren't many people she'd receive a text from at 3am and come knocking only twenty - or - so minutes later.

“  you asked me to.  ” bianca eventually said, a small comforting smile lining her lips. it wasn't the first time they'd met at this particular rooftop under the darkness of night, with only the stars as their witness. “  is everything alright?  ” perhaps in truth it was a void question to ask, for why else would carol have called upon her at such an hour, but it did invite her to confide in bianca if she so wished or not.

[belayadeath-goner]

PETER PARKER: he fell asleep on her couch, having climbed through the window still donning his spidey gear. crawling merely four feet before collapsing onto something soft... comfortable. peter doesn't snore, but he's sure as hell in a deep enough sleep to even stop breathing. three days straight on new york patrol did that to a guy.; living on pizza and the occasional nod-off on some random roof, east manhattan. shhh, don't wake him. @arachnidbit

03:17AM — the first time she woke up and wondered out into the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of water. she had almost passed him without noticing, had it not been for the one singular heavy breath and a shift as he rolled over on the couch. bianca's eyes, the bags under them heavy with sleep, register the red suit just barely from the single speck of light that peered through her half - closed curtains ( he hadn't been too careful as he'd headed for the couch ). though bianca moved quietly to the sink and grabbed herself the glass of water she'd set out for before heading back, stopping only to gaze at him once more. three of her fingers traced over peter's forehead, gently moving a bundle of his hairs out of his face, the softest touch she could possibly muster — before heading back to bed.

11:51AM — she'd snoozed for as long as she could, rolled about in bed for hours, switching sides, mindlessly flipping through pages of a book she'd long since given up on finishing. bianca had hoped to hear him stir about out in the living room by now, but she realized not everyone had as poor sleeping habits as herself. besides, she hadn't seen- or heard from him in days, she gathered it had been more than hectic enough. he didn't need her yanking his chain. though bianca did pull herself from the comforts of bed, pulling into a pair of loose shorts and an oversized sweater, and moved into the living room to join him: even if he wasn't awake yet. grabbing a small book from the coffee table, a book of crossword puzzles, bianca dumped down in the armchair placed next to the couch he was currently on, and began to scribble in few ( if any ) words. she spared a few glances to peter's side here and there, a serenity in the minimal smile on her features. this life wasn't so bad...

[belayadeath-goner]

JAKE SERESIN: that's not what you used to say @mostardent1y

“ don't flatter yourself, fly-boy. ” though the truth to his words dared to gnaw at her, seeping deeper still if not bianca was wary enough. she deflects his comment with a venomous remark of her own, sparing him but one glance over her shoulder to let the mismatched color of her eyes catch his blues. “ i've said a lot of things in my time, and frankly i haven't cared to remember it all. ” most of it had also not included a shred of the truth. she eventually turns to face him, the look of a predator about to jump onto their kill. “ what's your name again? ”

[belayadeath-goner]

PETER PARKER: everything is easier when you’re here. @arachnidbit

his admission prompted her gaze to lift from the gash, and find his weary ones, even if only for a moment. it didn't sink in for a moment, until it finally clicked, the way he looked at her even now — when just moments ago his whole world had been on fire and his first instinct had been to come to her place: to find her.

“ now i know those painkillers have kicked in... ” bianca attempted to deflect, eyes returning to the broad cut across his chest.

cuts and bruises are no stranger to her, she has about all remedies necessary to clean and dress any type of wound. it's the confessions that bleed from them she's unaccustomed to, words of affection that catches her off guard. “ you're just a bit woozy from the drugs, pete. ” needle, thread and a bottle of vodka ( for sterilisation ) already prepped and at the ready on the couch table to her side. she dabbed the cloth against the bleeding, seeing how it'd slowed. “ that's all. ”

[belayadeath-goner]

SEAN BATEMAN: get the hell away from me. @wallsuited

“  sean...  ” was the only word she could muster, the only thing that easily escaped off bianca's tongue. the way he had pulled from her, knocked away and rejected her when she had tried to reach for him. coming here had been difficult in itself, choosing to admit and own up to her mistakes — the mistake it had been to leave. bianca had nothing but regrets since that very day. “  please, just let me try to explain.  ” there's a hurt in his eyes that she's never seen before; and she's seen a lot. she knows him, his relationship with his family, his brother. the feeling of constant failure -- one he had admitted to her in a most tender moment. “  if you'd just give me... thirty minutes. i'll explain everything, i promise.  ”

[belayadeath-goner]

KENNETH VARECK: if you are to sell your soul to this devil for one thing, what will it be? @daylighter

SELL YOUR SOUL TO THIS DEVIL, WHAT A PERFECTLY SPECIFIC WAY OF PHRASE. it truly was a way to see straight through someone, and make most people uneasy with the depths of the waters they'd been tossed into. but she is not most people. for many years has she been posed questions seeking to unfold the mystery that she was; or the mystery she pretended to be. many persona's had been taken up and left in the dust, after normal wear and tear. none had been able to see right through her before, through her decades of training and experience — until now.

if you are to sell your soul to this devil for one thing, what will it be? in truth, there was no simple answer. for had she not already spent decades doing the work of a devil, an organization that didn't hesitate to torture and torment those who willingly submitted once, in hopes for a better life (?) no matter how much or how long she had tried to repent, bianca had not yet found a way out of the increasingly swelling darkness. “  quiet, probably. to be rid of the pain of memory, or to simply not feel it.  ”

[belayadeath-goner]

JESSICA DREW: you do have a way of finding trouble. @drewspawn

A GRIMACE APPEAR ON HER MARBLED FEATURES, FEIGNING A LOOK OF SURPRISE AND OFFENCE, though jess is wise enough to know that they're mere masks she puts on to assume legible emotions. “  one could argue that trouble has a way of finding me.  ” she noted with a quick quirk of her brow, before pouring a unhealthy amount of vodka up in the glass before her. LONG DAY. “  i've been trying to steer clear of trouble since '09.  ” bianca downs the glass in one large gulp, the burn in her throat offering her a brief escape from the thundering headache looming over her. “  is that the real reason you're here?  ”

[belayadeath-goner]

CONTINUED ft. FELICIA HARDY. @bllakcat

GREEN HUES FOLLOW HER PARTNER WITH EVERY STEP SHE TAKES, DRINKING IN THE BEAUTY THAT SHE IS. just her approach alone, the way the cat would sway to close in on their partner, was enough for the beating of her heart to quicken. when felicia leans in, an instinct of bianca's kick in, and a calloused hand was raised to fall to at her hip, digging into the soft silk of her robe when felicia caught her lips with her own. “  if i seem greedy, it is only because you are making me this way.  ” she muses after their kiss, with a certain candor that invites up for a dance. even now, it's difficult for her to keep herself off of felicia — every fibre of her being long to closed the distance between them again. instead she curls the cat closer with a flick of her wrist, head tilted slightly to the side to allow herself to breathe in her scent. “  though, seeing you amongst the group of wealthy old men today, all of them eating you up with their gaze, didn't help either. took every ounce of my strength to not walk up and claim you right there in front of them.  ”