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wannabemobwife · 3 years

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Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @dummiesshort @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland fan fiction smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland masterlist #mob!tom x reader #mob tom #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom holland x reader #dad!mob!tom holland

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

A Climb Chapter Three

Masterlist

This time Clark isn't going to let you get off with a warning hell bent on giving you a punishment you wont forget... but with you bent over just he couldn't help himself.

Warnings: Adult situations 18+, Spanking, Smut, Daddy kink, Size kink, dirty talk, humiliation

A/n: so been working on this for a while, got a few more things I’m writing atm which should hopefully be finished soon, i do hope you enjoy xx... P.S Its another long boi...sorry xx

dividers by @writeyourmindaway

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @magdelen69 @iloveyouyen

A Climb Chapter Three

Clark watched as you made your way across the office coffee in each hand and a paper tucked under your arm. You smiled placing his coffee beside him. It was one week since the whole superman discipline fiasco and you and Clark was officially a couple. He smiled sweetly thanking you then peered uneasy into the cup hoping it wasn't another ginger spice crappy frappie thing.

"What is it today then?" Looking at the frothy milk already pulling a face at it you laughed at his expression then leant on his desk.

"Coconut latte, honestly Clark you haven't even tried it yet, broaden your horizons live a little, you can't just stick to the same boring black coffee every single day... Go on try it its sweet just like you, I promise you'll like it." He scrunched his nose, coconut? In milk and coffee? He looked at you as you sipped your own drink.

"I happen to like black coffee... But you did buy it so I might as well try it...I'd hate for you to waste your money" he said taking a hesitant sip as Lois came over eyeing you both curiously, you mouthed coconut to her and she shook her head.

"You trying to get him on fancy coffee? Not sure if that will work but I admire your efforts" you both watched as Clark hummed and nodded before taking a second sip. You smiled laughing as he refused to put the cup down taking slow drags from it now and then.

"See I told you~" you said in a sing song voice. Then placed the paper down beside you on the desk.

"Soo whats on the agenda for today then girls and boys?" Lois shook her head at your antics, having you around the office was effectively having a child in the building. A fully grown 5ft fuck all fearless, sneaky child, which is exactly why she needed you ,you were to all intents and purposes a fucking ninja...Or at least you should have been.

"Well y/n I was hoping I could steal you from Clark for a while?" You tilted your head at her

"Define a while?"

"Day or two? I need someone who will keep up with me." You mulled it over taking another sip ,that normally meant she was either doing something she shouldn't and needs a photographer she could trust or needed you to do some behind the scenes acrobatic snooping. You ignored the way Clark's eyes wandered over the two of you carefully.

"What's the story?" Her face lit up as you asked

"Got a lead on that chemical leak down by the Lex corp labs, its causing symptoms similar to the victims of nuclear radiation, immunity failure, it hasn't killed anyone...Yet anyway, but there are fourteen people hospitalized and they are trying to white wash it as some industrial strength cleaning solution accident." You tilted your head at her nodding slowly sounds like a major cock up on the lab's part.

"Yep fine, you want me to get my stuff now or-" you was interrupted by Clark placing a hand on your thigh squeezing the strength shocked you as he pinned you to the desk you were seated on.

"No" both you and Lois looked at him and started speaking first

"What? Clark its fine she will be with me" she said you continued

"Yeah it will be okay I'm not even leaving the city this time" he stood still holding your thigh under his heavy palm squeezing it tightly making you wince a little then released it, he moved standing close shielding you from Lois slightly puffing out his chest looking down at you making you gulp a little as your clit tingled at his imposing stance you wet your lips a little. He tilted his head looking sternly at you.

"I said no,Love your not going running in to god knows what. We don't even know what that stuff is?" He added waving his hand around .You grit your teeth and pushed him back a little you and stood at your full height jabbing him in the chest, then shook out your finger as it had hurt.

"Well that's the point of going isn't it you know investigating what it is? Look I know your worried but if they are doing some freaky chemical testing shit then its dangerous! Besides I'm just going to take photos of the facility. Nothing will happen we will be extra careful wont we Lois?"

"Of course we will just photos and statements that's all promise" she backed you up he looked between the two of you and sighed.

"Lois no that place is to dangerous, the things they have there-" he caught himself but Lois didn't click ...Or really listen to him, it was a story. Her story you hesitated. At his statement sparing Lois a glance.

"Clark people have a right to know if Lex corp are doing Illegal testing!" he grunted ignoring her turning to you pointing at you

"I said no...And I mean it, I'm not playing around you know what will happen if you ignore me, he is still on your tail I will find out" you took a step back at his severe look and reluctantly nodded he was serious, you pivoted to Lois giving a apologetic look.

"Lois ...It does sound a bit iffy...Lets look for another story from Perry" you winked at her discreetly nodding to the elevators she huffed turning in a strop making her way across the office, you sighed as Clark sat down at his desk rolling his eyes.

"Great now shes in a mood"he sighed

"She'll get over it....Thank you for dropping it, I love you" you froze insides twisting with guilt already as he pulled you down to his face giving you a kiss you smiled at him sweetly before looking away towards Lois and grimanced watching her stalk towards the elevators all but crushing the buttons

"I'll go talk to her" he hummed in agreement

"Okay be safe love" looking back to his screen and beginning to type his own article as you made your way to her sneakily still having your bag over your shoulder and quickly made it to the elevator slipping in beside Lois.

Once outside you sighed walking along side Lois she looked up at you smirking, you both high fived.

"Soo you and Clark huh? Never got the full story on how that finally happen?"You blushed not sure what to say not like you could say superman spanked you like a child for climbing buildings then delivered you to Clark for another scolding.

"We err yeah we argued over something silly and he sort of screamed he loved me, not exactly romantic but that was it" she smiled nodding.

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest, he has had his eye on your for a while, been telling him for months to ask you out he was to shy." You laughed yes that sounded like him. You did feel a little uncomfortable after all Lois was his ex. She gave you a side glance

"What did he mean back then in the office?" You flushed chuckling

"Oh that who knows with him I mean come on this is Clark hes a bit backwards isn't he?" She couldn't argue there then it got quiet noticing your mood change and sighed she wasn't going to let this cause a rift between you both, she'd been working with you for nearly six years you were friends.

"I don't mind you know, it didn't work out between Clark and I, I wish it had but it just didn't, honestly I knew he liked you after he started working with you, when we was still together, I could feel it, that's why I ended it... I wasn't the one he truly wanted, I was just the first he opened up to sometimes I think he just felt obligated to be with me but if you hurt him you'll have me on your case you got that?" You nodded smiling at her softly.

"Thank you, I was afraid that you wouldn't like me anymore that's why I've avoided you a bit." she laughed and pushed you a bit making you weave around a small group of businessmen then come back to her side.

"Course not don't be stupid, by the way you do know were sneaking in don't you?" You grinned waving your slightly smaller camera

"Why do you think I've got this bad boy? and I brought my new go pro , got this new one better pixels and its more stable just have to change shoes when we get there trainers are in my bag. So what do you think it is? Some poison? Or nuclear type thing?" She hummed

"Always prepared huh? And I'm not certain but it could be a weapon? Apparently Lex corp has been trying to get government contracts for military imports and exports, I think it was a a chemical weapon test gone south."

"Military? Was they approved?" She shook her head stopping beside you

"No it was denied and its the fifth time this year they seem desperate and I think its because they already have weapons and are testing them but technically until they get the contracts what they have been doing is illegal. It could ruin the whole Luthor name, tear down their empire." you followed her to the cab she had waved down both jumping in the back she told the driver the destination.

It took just over half an hour to reach the labs, as always you had gotten out and walked the last few minutes. you used your cameras zoom using it as binoculars.

"Red, we got a problem. Security and they are packing some serious heat.... But look that's the one right? with the big tube tent thingy?" she huffed hands on hips thinking, you used the time to snap some photos capturing some shots of the armed security, you noticed they gave the sight of the incident a wide birth veering around it on every pass,you cursed as two stopped spotting you, you quickly shifted slightly.

"Pose pose!! quickly!!" she did as she was told holding her hands up and popping her hip out to the side and you snapped another photo you noticed the security shake heads walking away.

"That's it done" she dropped her hands it was a trick you had both developed use Instagram like poses for cover you nodded to the building.

"You go cause a fuss I will use the distraction to get in, if you get turned away go wait where we got out of the cab try to hold out for as long as you can okay? I will be as quick as I can if I'm not out in thirty minutes go home." she looked hesitant as you crouched finishing swapping your shoes for trainers tightening your laces double knotting them tucking the ends in.

"Leave? you want me to leave you there?"

"Yeah don't worry I will get out I always do but if things go south I don't want to worry about you to, no offense but your not as fast as me" you said taking a small pouch from your bag clipping it to a belt loop on your trousers passing her your satchel tucking your camera in to your pouch then attaching the go pro to your head, it was smaller then your other one and this one saved your live stream to the cloud, so even if you lost dropped or broke it the film was intact.

"Okay if your sure.. Just please be careful I don't think Clark would ever forgive me if you got hurt" you nodded to her

"I'm not going to get hurt now go, wait until I'm at that fence at the bottom" she nodded watching you jog to the very far fence, you turned back looking at her nodding watching as she approached the security gate.

You turned the corner the finding a weak spot in the fence , it was a basic chain link one that you could easily roll up, your guess is they were trying to look unassuming. You didn't bother taking a photo you could pull stills from the go-pro footage. The security cameras moved in slow sweeping motion's across the open space you counted there was a thirty second interval that was clear as they moved, thirty seconds didn't seem much but you would be amazed what you could achieve in that time you planned your route, make it to the large truck parked half way across the concrete then a run jump and wall climb and you’d be on the first roof out of view of the cctv using the electricity box to spring off.

You took a deep breath then moved sliding under the chain link fence and rushed tucking below the truck, taking a deep breath as the adrenaline kicked in, peeking as the cameras rotated then made your move again sprinting and using the electricity box to propel yourself to the roof grunting as you held the edge quickly scrabbling your feet and rolling just in time. Taking a moment you calmed your breathing and got up crouching looking left and right seeing a durable looking gutter, it was close to the edge and you'd be in plain sight for the climb, but Lois was down there being Lois so you was certain no one would see you.

You had to trust she would keep them occupied, grabbing the gutters attachments you planted your feet either side cupping your hands behind the pipe, the trick was to keep a steady rhythm you made the climb breathing steady until you reached the top a little out of breath and stood, no one of ground level would see you from here, this roofs height was almost at three stories. Peering over the top you saw the guards watching as Lois made her way down the side of the fence going to the meeting spot.

You stood back slowly looking around there was a small hatch that looked like a maintenance shaft that would be your entry point then. Walking towards it you pried it open shimmying down inside there was a small ladder and a platform at the bottom attached to a cat walk around the room. You crouched on the platform looking over the huge space. One huge room that looked almost like a warehouse apart from plastic dividers cutting it into smaller cubicles each looked like mini science labs various apparatus and small machines in each then there was a wall with huge glass window inside two massive industrial sized vats at the other end with pipes feeding whatever it was holding into a few smaller canisters, people with full on hazmat suits and bubble masks entered and left via a decontamination chamber as other people walked around transporting the smaller canisters in glass boxes on trolleys taking out your camera you snapped shots of the room the zoom picked up more then your go-pro ever could.

You pointed the camera zooming on various items you did a slow walk round getting close ups of the activity in and around the place, most of the stuff looked.... Medical? For some reason, vials and syringes and drip feeders that type of stuff. Finally you found what you was looking for zooming in on a large board that has diagrams all across it depicting the vats and smaller containers, but couldn't make out any writing. Sighing you crouched speed walking down the cat walk finding a spot with a better view from here you could work out what it says....Theralizumab (tgn1412) what the fuck was that? A drug or something? For some reason it sounded familiar but you couldn't place it. You leaned closer taking more photos of the table beside it all showing different scientific calculations and symbols then quietly spelt the main name out loud for your go pro as a back up.

You froze and crouched lower as a gun wielding guard came in Through a side door looking around talking on the phone as he made for the stairs across from you. Shit. You had to get out, deciding to call it quits you retraced your steps. Once you made it to the ladder you quickly climbed it making it to the roof safe and sound, you peaked over the to where the groups of guards had been but they were scattered about patrolling again you swore. Things are definitely turning south. You must have spent longer looking around than you thought. You took a deep breath before slipping down the gutter aiming to leave the way you came. As if things couldn't get worse the truck was gone. You would be spotted before you got out hearing a voice from above your stomach dropped quickly you dived against the wall.

"There’s no one here, yes I've looked , nothing on the cat walk or roof.... Jerry is just seeing things...... well he's been paranoid since the explosion.... yes well he should suck it up think himself lucky......pfft that's what he's saying he wasn't anywhere near it to be hit with this shit......no point, looking at what it did to those in England they will probably be dead in a few days, wouldn't surprise me if he let em to cover up........ I will check now yes alright be down in a minute." You held your breath as you heard the foot steps moving closer your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. He would see you. He would see you and shoot you and you'd die, because he would shoot you and you'd be dead. You panicked looking for somewhere to hide as he got closer to the edge.

"Fuck! Show me your hands!" He shouted you rolled away and made a break for it as he fumbled with his gun aiming it at you firing. He missed hitting the roof by your feet making the gravel spray up hitting your ankles making you hiss,your heart skipped a beat as you closed your eyes ducking and screaming diving in a zigzag towards the edge with every intention of throwing your self off it was only one story hopefully you’d make it. You flinched hearing him run down the length of the building you held your breath waiting to feel a spray of bullets as you neared the edge. But there wasn't any. just a sudden gust of air a warmth at your back you flinched closing your eyes fearing the worst as someone grabbed your waist quickly tugging you towards them, then they seemed to jump your feet left the ground and you grabbed at the arm in shock opening your eyes the saw a flick of red before closing them again as you was lurched through the air at speed landing seconds later a few blocks away at ground level next to a sheepish looking Lois.

"Lois? Wha-" before you could finish you was spun around your wrist was held in a tight grip coming face to face with the man of steel and for the first time you was happy to see him, before you could think you hugged him shaking from fear and adrenaline he sighed tucking an arm around you patting your back as the shock of what happened washed over you in nauseating waves. A few tears escaped, you were shot at, you could have died.

"Fuck ,thank you, thank you so much , if you hadn’t- I'd be....I thought I was a goner" he sighed ruffling your hair holding you as you shook, no matter how angry he was he couldn't help take a few moments to help settle you down rubbing your back slowly as you sobbed quietly you were so frightened.

"Shh it's okay...I've got you...your okay" you cried into him missing the looks shared over your head between him and Lois. She looked guilty, and he was fucking pissed. Eventually you calmed down enough for him to get through to you and he pulled you back at arms length, you tried wriggling away wiping your eyes and sniffing back your last whimpers, he growled when you tried twisting away. Oh hell no.

He wasn't letting you get away from him not after that major fuck up moving his hand he gripped you by the scruff of your shirt. You flinched and snapped your gaze up. Oh shit. His face was set in a deep frown, jaw twitching. He was angry, furious. Double shit.

"What have I told you?! About doing stupid things like that?!" He shook you a bit by your shirt making you wince closing your eyes pretending he wasn't there.

"Don’t you pretend to ignore me!" He wasn’t playing ball and instead captured your chin in his other hand.

"Y/n what did I say?...Look at me when I'm talking to you....Right now or so help me god!....That’s better....Was last time not enough To deter you?" Your eyes bulged as you used your hands to cover your back end. Lois raised an eyebrow at your reaction going to ask but was silenced with a look from Clark, he wasn't happy with either of them. He trusted her! Trusted you to both do the right thing, the safe thing and leave this story alone, at that point he wasn't sure who he was more angry at. Lois for encouraging you, or you for actually going through with it!.

"No! I mean yes! I don't know!! it was work their doing something bad!! like really reeaallly bad! I'm sorry please don't!" He growled

"Sorry isn't good enough!!" you squeaked at him trying to twist from him but he juts locked a hand on one of your biceps makeing to spin you around.

"No! don't nononono! please not here pleaseplease, I get it I'll be good, I wont make a fuss just not infront of her please!" you begged and he clenched his jaw looking from you to Lois who was confused by your desperate display

"y/n wha?" she didn't get to finish as her question was answered as you was spun round to face her yelping and thrashing as he moved landed a harsh smack you your lower thigh making you cry out trying to tuck yourself away from him moving your free hand around trying to cover yourself flushing in humiliation as Lois' jaw dropped. You moved your hand across yourself trying to save your ass but he just worked around it with ease ,finally having enough he switched his grip capturing both wrists behind you as you tried spinning back round and dodging at the same time tears already falling from the harsh impacts of his hand all but branding your ass.

"No nonono stop! I'm sorry I'm sorry please

""You want me to drop your jeans? No? Well stop wriggling then!.... You are unbelievable!...Three times! This makes t hree times now I've had to Intervene! I thought your last spanking would have knocked some sense into you Young lady! But then again Clark let you get away with it last time didn't he?" You cried as this time he had put more force behind each swing leaving a much deeper burn then last time tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing as he carried on. He meant it.

"Im sorry ple-please stoooop" he continued letting you feel his displeasure at you landing heavier blows you could tell he wanted to strike you harder in the way his hand trembled with each impact, the rougher treatment and scolding made you soak your panties almost instantly, the humiliation of Lois watching may have had something to do with it as well. You flushed in humiliation happy that you was in black jeans, had you been in anything else he and Lois would have seen your shame. You wriggled yelping between sobs as he bruised your back side adding five more in quick succession then stopped. It had felt like a life time but in reality was only a minute two at most. You hiccuped rubbing your eyes as he stood there still glareing at you before huffing.

"What am I going to do with you? Is this going to be a weekly occurrence now?" You sniffed trying to compose yourself shaking your head. No. He released your wrists but you didn't pull away wiping your nose on your sleeve feeling humiliated, belittled and most dreadfully of all aroused. You flushed a deep red hanging your head in shame, god knows what Lois must think watching you get man handled like that, watching you be reduced to tears in seconds.

"I don't need to tell you how stupid that was do I?" You whined and shook your head again at him, feeling his eyes boring into your head.

"And you can rest assured that the only reason I'm letting you off so lightly is because I'm letting your boyfriend deal with you this time! I'm very disappointed in you, I don't think he will be very happy I doubt he let you come out here, did he know?" you hung your head somehow Hearing him say he's disappointed in you almost felt as bad as his spanking and you didn't know why, you shivered at the thought of Clark finding out.

"Well?" He probed Lois gave him a look, you didn't know yet? but then by that display she hardly thought you spent a lot of time facing him, by the looks of it you spent your time across his knee.

"No, well maybe, he knew we wanted to but we said we wouldn't...." he sighed at you

"Well he will be finding out" you panicked shaking your head

"No! don’t tell him! I know I did wrong but he will be so angry!!" He ignored you fixing you both with a firm gaze.

"You will both drop the story, we are already on it and don't need people panicking over it, your leads dried up am I clear?" You heard Lois agree still stunned by what she had just witnessed he tugged your head up to face him seeing nothing but a blur through your tears.

"Y/n I said am I clear?" You nodded before answering weakly without thinking

"Yes sir" mortified as the words slipped out before you could catch them

"Good now off you go...Back to your office both of you" he said releasing you ,you quickly made your way past him hissing as your tender muscles pulled, they was already bruising. You moved scampering quicker as he left you with one last parting smack on your rear as you scuttled past him to embarrassed to look up as Lois walked by your side quietly you flinched as you heard him take off the echoing sound as he broke the sound barrier, knowing he was going to go tell on you. Lois closed the gap resting her hand on your arm lightly as you sniffled she held out your bag for you, you took it quietly.

"A-are you okay?" You nodded a little

"Yeah just embarrassed I never wanted anyone to see that, you probably think I'm stupid" she smiled a little

"I'll admit I've never seen him do anything like that before, sounds like you have tho" you sucked in a deep breath as your bottom stung and throbbed you could just feel the ache of a bruise now forming.

"Yer tha-thats the second time, first was longer but that was worse.... way worse and now I'm gonna have to face Clark, hes going to spank me to,I don't think I can handle two, but if I don't go then I will be in worse trouble." You trembled a little

"So Clark spanks you to?" She asked realizing you didn't know yet. You nodded then shook your head

"No, yes I mean not yet but only cos of how red my ass was when I got to his apartment... Superman found me climbing he caught me and spanked me then sent me to Clark... That’s when we argued and got together weird huh?" She shook her head.

"Not really, He loves you the thought of loosing you could be the thing that broke the camels back....Still tho I feel sorry for you.....More so your ass I mean neither of them are weak by any means.... And I doubt your behaving" you groaned as she chuckled

"Hey come on let me have that one, I mean you just got spanked back there then I find out that your letting both of them spank you?"you scoffed

"Let? you try wriggling away see how far you get! , Superman's a nosy prick who can fuck right off" you shouted up at the sky hoping the bastard could hear you then heard the familiar sound of him roaming the sky. You froze looking to the sky cautiously and gulped, he was still about.

"...Shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that! Lets go before he comes back I don't want another round" you said trying to make your way out of he area asap quickly regretting shouting at him. Lois smiled, you were going to be so pissed off when you find out, but she kept that to her self.

"... You think he was bluffing, like superman can't really go to the office can he? like there'd be to many questions? That suit is so tight I doubt he has a pocket for a phone....right?" she hissed through her teeth seeing where you were going.

"Well I couldn't say, but I don't think you can keep it from Clark. I mean their close....really close two peas in a pod"

"No shit I realized that when they both had the same views on domestic discipline, it was that cape wearing asshat who gave Clark the idea" she blinked you really had no idea.

"If you want my advice tell him the truth because when he finds out and he will, he will be angry that you broke in and hurt that you lied to him" you sighed

"Your right I suppose, best to get it over with....Could you keep this a secret? Please in all honesty I'd rather you forget the whole thing.." she smiled nodding

"It goes without saying, but I promise I wont tell a soul.... If the league are on this tho we should leave it." You blinked at her

"What? Do my ears deceive me or is Lois Lane, THE Lois lane dropping a story?" You gaped at her she nodded.

"From the way he said it...He was serious... Whatever is in there is dangerous and we should leave this one... You nearly got shot over it, in Metropolis! If they are willing to risk that type of law suit then its big business in there....And no offense but I'm not really itching for a trip over someone's knee anytime soon." you scoffed but nodded she was probably right.

You kept up small talk on the way back Lois was trying to get your mind off of the inevitable and it worked. It wasn't until you reached the daily planet that your stomach tied in knots. Once you was in the office you felt Clark’s eyes on you before he came over engulfing you in a hug tucking your face in the crook of his neck as you began shaking again. He kissed the side of your head.

"You went there didn't you?" You nodded sniffling he heaved a deep sigh

"You stupid stupid girl, are you hurt? What happened? I know something happened from the minute you walked in" you fumbled with your words a little going to brush him off but a look from Lois quickly made you change your mind.

"I broke in..... And got spotted and I was shot at....A tiny bit....Like teeny weeny bit shot at" He quickly pulled you away his face set firm as he stared at you.

"S-superman saved me and then he well..... You know..." you flushed but he simple blinked at you

"He what?" You groaned and nodded behind you he fixed you with a look and grasped your ass squeezing you hissed stepping on tip toes trying to wriggle away from his hand.

"Oh so he gave you another spanking?" He said still applying pressure to your tender warm cheeks, you nodded hissing at him still trying to escape.

"Yes! and he did it in front of Lois even when I begged him not to! Claarrk! Stoop it hurts!" You whined at him he only sighed shaking his head at you giving you a severe look making you feel even more sorry for yourself.

"Good its definitely what you deserve and you can expect another when we leave today, I specifically told you not to go there. What was you thinking?"

"Kent is everything alright?" You both turned looking at Perry you nodded but Clark shook his head

"Y/n isn't really feeling well" Perry nodded regarding you

"She does look a flushed... Probably best you take a half day y/n" you nodded at him thanking him, thinking this the perfect time to escape your unimpressed boyfriend.

"I will to if that’s alright? I've already handed in my article today and I can look after her god knows someone needs to, she's to stubborn to do it herself" Clark asked Perry, he nodded knowing even feeling unwell you’d probably go home and work anyway.

Twenty minutes of awkward silence later you both arrived at his apartment. He was angry. But it was an eerie calm anger. He dropped his keys and bag taking your bag from you then kicked his shoes off you did the same unable to take the silence anymore

"Clark I'm sorry, I really am I didn't intend to be spotted" he sighed

"No one ever intends to get caught.But that’s no excuse... I told you not to go! Fuck I didn't say that for fun I said it because I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt, I was worried when I didn't see you in the office and I just hoped you listened, trying to kid myself that you had found another safe story to do. I was terrified all I could do was wait for you to return or to receive a phone call from A hospital or-or police department and I was worried for good reason you was shot at! Shot y/n!" You quivered as he scolded you, as frightening as the huge man was angry you couldn't help the way your core twitched watching him, the tingling of your clit returning as he ran a hand through his hair messing it up.

He stopped and pointed a finger at you.

"It was a dumb thing to do and no matter how bruised your ass is this time I'm adding to it !" You shrunk as he walked past you deeper into the living room. Sitting on the sofa.

"You cant be serious...Claarrk! He has already done it! And in front on Lois No...I’m not having it!" He tilted his head casting a glance over his glasses as you stomped at him, he sighed.

"And I'm not having you running around god knows where getting yourself in trouble being fucking shot at! Come here....Now" he said quietly you gulped as his voice got deeper shaking your head stepping back a few steps. He leaned forward pulling him self off the seat and in four quick strides he was in front of you dragging you forward before him.

You fought him feet dragging on the floor ,cursing his large form as he over powered you ushering you around the sofa to the side then paused. He settled for leaning towards you pinning you between him and the arm of the sofa moving his hands forward he popped the button on your jeans batting at your hands leaving sharp slaps to them as you resisted and tried to fight him trying to hold them up. He quickly halted your efforts making you whine at him tugging them down making you squeak flushing as he peeled them down you held his shoulders as he wrestled your legs out of them. You stood back still trying to wriggle free

"No..Please don’t Clark!" You protested all of your bravado failing yet again as you were placed bare ass over the sofa waiting for what was promising to be a very uncomfortable spanking. Clark smirked noting that your protests sounded more like a panicked little girl who didn’t think her daddy was serious as you soon found yourself bent over the arm of the sofa one of his hands at the curve of your spine holding you down.

"How can you still be so bratty with an ass this red? Hmm? This time he wasn't thorough enough, I will fix that!" You cringed as he moved his hand across your two glowing cheeks pressing his hands in letting you feel how hot and swollen you was, you moved yours back to him trying to shield your already hot cheeks. You whined pitifully as he moved them in front of you

"Keep these up here!" You nodded finally giving into him as he moved to stand at an angle quickly connecting his hand making you claw at his sofa cushions trying to inch yourself forward, but it was no use he had you tucked securely against the arm not leaving you anywhere to go. you yelped as he raise his hand again making sure to hit the pinkest part of your cheeks, you kicked out whining at him. He chuckled it was cute your feeble struggles as he popped you on your sore red bottom again and again sending you into a full blown paddy.

"CLARK!PLEASE STOP!" he tilted around to meet your gaze seeing your bright red face. He stuck out his bottom lip at you mirroring your pout.

"Aww poor y/n is it already sore?" You nodded sniffling feeling completely humiliated already.

"Well then maybe you should start doing as your told." He finished his statement with a firm slap that rippled across your ass, you wailed fidgeting clawing at the sofa cushion beneath you as he continued to spank your ass and thighs. Your toes curled into the carpet below you as his hot palm landed again and again each time in a slightly different place slowly working in rounds across your bottom. It wasn't long before the pain truly set in, a deep burn building on your already smarting cheeks that made you truly feel small and naughty, ashamed of yourself for being naughty and ending up in this position.

You cried true tears as he move lower to a more sensitive spot cupping his hand on impact making the sting almost sweet as the jolt went straight to your aching clit making you throb with need. Fat tears rolled down your face as he moved you higher stretching out your cheeks giving him easy access to the crease of your thighs that Superman couldn't reach earlier.

"NOO! Clark pl-please sto-op I'm sorry OWW NO! I wont do it again! Please!" He huffed at you as you choked out the words around sobs that wracked your body jolting when you heard the quicker stinging slaps echo through the room, moving your hands back trying to cover yourself tho you wasn't sure if it was to shield your ass or hide your drenched pussy.

He had already spotted it, he growled capturing both wrists pinning them to your back as he smelt you, some of your juices was already clinging to his fingertips where he had spanked a little lower then necessary, it gave him an idea he knew that he couldn't continue on your ass for much longer.

"I hope so! Do you know just how worried I was! You little BRAT! Your so lucky that I wasn't there had I been I wouldn't have left your jeans up in front of Lois you can be damn sure of that!" You whined not really sure how he new you hadn't been spanked bare by the man of steels but you couldn't dwell on it as he moved again pressing a hand to the top of your cheeks digging his blunt fingers into the darkened flesh making you whine pitifully at him to stop through your tears.

”You.will.never.disobey.me.like.that.again!...do you understand me?" you nodded weakly as he emphasized each word with harder and harder spanks on the crease of your bottom making it just as bright as the rest of your ass. Finally you felt him pull away and you sighed still sobbing your heart out, half in pain the other humiliation at how your body had reacted to him.

You twisted trying to cross your legs as you felt your arousal drip down your thighs in long embarrassing streams and yelped when he kicked out your ankles wider and moved to peel back your lips taking a long look at your wanting core, chuckling when he saw how you clenched longingly, wanting to be stuffed full. He sighed as you tried to fight him.

"Oh no you don’t let daddy see..." you whined pressing your face into the cushion hissing and bucking into his hand as he ran a fingertip up and down your slit.

"Oh god! Dont LOOK! STOOPP!" You were silenced with a all be it lighter spank straight on your revealed clit making you screech that broke of into a moan then another and another you clenched on each strike, his spanks on your pussy pushing you closer and closer to a trembling orgasm he stopped just shy of your release making you heave deep breaths.

He tutted at you leaving his hand wedged between the two pink lips rubbing across you harshly in an up and down motion.

"Oh sweet baby~ don’t tell me your were going to cum on my palm as I spanked your naughty little pussy?" You groaned as he moved his hand dipping two wide fingers into you leaving your mouth agape as he scissored them, he concentrated on your high pitched sounds and the way your pussy began clenching and suckling.

"Oh you were weren't you? So so ready for me hmm? Just a needy little girl~" You shivered and moaned trying to grind on his fingers as the brushed your walls massaging them just right you gasped when he began fucking you faster and harder onto his fingers them held them still buried deep to the knuckles curling them.

You jolted as he hit that spot, the smooth patch of nerves that will finally finish you off the edge.

"Is this all you wanted baby? Such a naughty baby~ You were acting out so daddy would bring you home and punish you? Maybe that what I should do, punish my needy little girls cunt, fuck her until shes a very sore very sorry little girl" As he spoke he was watching listening to your heart rate the way you struggled to breath you were close, his dirty talk seemed to do the trick , he could feel your body clenching as he called you his naughty baby. He quickly and cruelly pulled away at the last second laughing when your little pussy tried holding on to him as he withdrew his fingers he watched the pleasure fade and become annoyance you really had been just about to cum.

"Poor baby~" his voice was condescending, belittling and it made your knees shake. He was sexy just being his normal shy farmboy self but here and now he seemed like a totally different animal! The confidence and raw power he had over you was...It was breathtaking and arousing...definitely not what you expected from the man. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed, he somehow knew you wanted a daddy, to spank and fuck you into behaving, the thoughts of the huge man taming you left you a mess beneath him.

Your protest was immediate you moved side to side letting your thighs rub at your swollen lips trying desperately to trap your clit between them. Your voice hoarse from begging and pleading with him

"I NOO! CL-CLARK PLEASE I WANT!-" he shut you up with another spank to your pussy making you gasp and widen your legs craving any sort of contact.

"Huh? I’m sorry You what? You might have to speak louder so I can hear you?" You turned resting the side of your face on the sofa looked at him tears still streaming slowly down your face.

"I-I want to cum! Please Clark please I want you to fuck me! Spank me again, just I-I want you to do something PLEASE DADDY! " he tilted his head and sighed looking at you from the top of his eyes enjoying the little game. Reveling in the fact you'd acknowledged him as your daddy; your dom your one and only, he felt it in his bones the way you'd given in, falling to his need to dominate you completely.

"Well now is that so?...All I hear is a disobedient little madame demanding things...Well I'm afraid that 'I want' never gets around here.." You whined

"I SAID PLEEAASSEE!"

"And I said no! Not until you beg nicely, until ask me with a pretty please~" closing your eyes, him seeing your arousal from his chastisement is one thing but he wanted you to beg? You flushed and wriggled back. He moved deciding that you needed some encouragement chuckling rubbing a single finger down your slit pinpointing your clit and rubbed harshly for a few breaths then pulled back hovering it just out of your reach. You snapped twisting again to him

."Please daddy~ I'm sorry I was bad, Please let me make it up to you? Let me play with you, make you happy and show you just how sorry I am for being a brat again~" for a moment he wavered wanting to stop this game and fuck you full right there.

He still might. With a grin he leant down over you making sure to let you feel his hard cock he smiled as his teasing worked as you whimpered pitifully pressing back to him.

"Ahh...You want daddy to play with you?....is that it? you want me to finger fuck your needy little pussy until, your just gushing all over me? well baby?" You moaned weakly at his filthy words going bright red and nodded.

"Y-YES PLEASE! FUCK TOUCH ME PLEASE CLARK I CAN'T...I'M SORRY!" Your cry was loud and uneven as you fought to wrestle your arms free trying to move back against him, to find something to grind on. He moved quickly unable to deny himself anymore the sight of you bent over and red assed and begging for him; for your daddy to fuck you any which way made him snap, it was all the permission he needed.

More tears fell this time in relief as you felt his hand drop to his waist then heard his belt move as he undone it with one hand quickly shucking down his trousers, he wasted no time lining up and with one sharp bone shaking thrust he embedded what felt like 10 inches straight into your quivering heat.

You screamed out but he quickly curbed it as he caught the scruff of your neck and pressed you into the sofa, the movement took your feet completely off the floor leaving them to kick about behind you. Perfect. Now your really did have to endure whatever he threw at you. Had you been able to see him you would have seen an abnormally dark look cross his normally sweet face. You groaned high cringing as he plowed his way into you holding himself deeper then anyone you'd had before.

You gasped finding it hard to breath with him leaning over you pressing your body down into the sofa you tired calling out to him as you began panicking when he pressed your face further into the sofa making you go a little dizzy, thoughts becoming hazy as your airflow was being cut off slowly as he rocked slowly fucking any tiny breaths you took right out of you. Just as you began to panic more he moved his hand moving to twist in your hair pulling your face up. You took deep gasping breaths crying out as he pulled back and rocked his hips into yours, making sure to slap his thighs harshly into your bruised bottom making you groan in slight pain, not that he could really tell with all the moaning you were doing. He wanted to make this a little painful, after all you'd been a bad girl.

He grunted loudly into your ear his breaths huffing past your ear making sure you heard just how good you felt for him. You tried turning to kiss him but he gave a quick shake of your hair.

"OOhh FUCK-YES THAT’S IT ugh ugh no~ your not kis-SHIT NOT YET BABY! fuck not yet no!. No your not kissing daddy only OH MY GOD!Fuuuck! Only good girls get kisses and your a bad baby! Bad babies don’t get kisses!" You whined slumping forward as much as you could pouting, you hissed whining and moaning as he pulled you up by your hair.

"What are you?" You whined shaking your head but he growled shaking you by your hair slightly, you cried out at the sting in your scalp.

"I'M AHH FUCKplease! CLARK! DADDY NONONONO! PLEASE I'M SORRY! I'M A BAD BABY! I'M A VERY BAD BABY!"

"ugh fuck yes! Yes you are and you're going to stay right here and let me fill that little pussy! If your lucky I might let your naughty little cunt cum over my cock... But don’t even think about cumming until I say so." How he managed to talk so evenly whilst fucking you so thoroughly.

You cried out a loud animalistic sound as he moved back before thrusting into you deeper then you thought possible, hitting your cervix with a force you'd never experienced almost winding you. You whined as he battered away at your core your muscles protested weakly to his cocks heavy thrusts stretching around him so tightly, you felt his pulse throbbing away inside of you each time he impaled you on him his veins rubbing at your walls in a pleasantly addictive pace.

You moaned every nerve in your body was alight arms tensing. He moved you releasing your hair and tucking his hands around your thighs pulling them further apart the action let him bury himself deeper inside of you, taking your breath away as he fucked you roughly , you twitched hissing as his balls slapped against your sore spanked clit making you see stars softly grunting as the abuse on your clit pushed you higher a surge of heat rolling around in your tummy just waiting to let loose. Somehow he knew and began grunting at you.

"Don’t you fucking dare! You hold it or I'm going to fuck your ass to!" You yelled out as he forced himself into your body with renewed vigor leaning down you bit the cushion below you trying to fight off the climax that was seconds away. The stinging heat of your ass was being punished all over again only this time it was his thighs doing the spanking. He tilted you up further your breasts now laying on the sofa cushion as he rutted into you his thrusts sloppy and he moaned louder and louder he was close you could feel him swelling, ready to fill you with his cum, to claim you as his own little fuck toy and ruin you.

"BEG! BEG FOR ME TO FILL YOUR CUNT!" You gasped as he spanked you making your muscled coiled tightly around his cock.

"PLEEAASSEE DADDY PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME! FUCK ME FULL LIKE YOUR LITTLE WHORE! LIKE I’M JUST YOUR TOY PLEASE! DADDY I WANT IT PRETTY PLEASE!" you shouted the words barely having the breath to beg him.

"Fuck yes good girl! Such a good toy for daddy! Now cum that right you can cum on daddy's cock!" You cried in relief letting go trembling as you came over him, arching wildly it was a full body orgasm like you’d never experienced before. You couldn’t even voice your pleasure far to lost in the shivering euphoria.

Your quivering heat sucked him so tightly as you came not even he could continue to hold out roaring as you forced him to cum inside of you, you’d actually milked him! Sucked the cum right out of his balls Forced him to release his cum and drench your insides.

You both eventually came down from your highs you were still bent over the sofa tears trailing from your eyes tho your really unsure why panting heat going ten to the dozen. He patted your back and pulled himself free gasping and sweaty. He moved around you on unsteady feet and sat near your head he moved pulling you across his lap tucking you into his chest.

You moaned as he moved your tender body across the cushions to him you noticed at some point of his wild punishment fuck he had removed his shirt. You looked up at him smiling giggling slightly smoothing some of your loose hair out of your face. He sighed pressing a firm kiss to your neck then grunted pulling back and removing his slightly fogged glasses placing then on the table. He leaned back staring at you intently you blinked then moaned trying to find a more comfy place the sit wincing as your tender lower half moved against his thick thighs. You pouted as he chuckled running a hand through his hair moving the curls to the side, you froze looking at him.

"W-what? Clark? You look just like...." he froze realizing just what you meant and nodded sighing he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist so you wouldn't run.

"Yes....I-I am I mean" you tilted your head as he unconsciously tried to hide his face

"Your?....YOUR Superman? Its you whos-whos been? You've been saving me? Spanking me?" He nodded weakly unsure if you was angry or not. You looked at him in disbelief moving to cup his face gently when he wouldn't look at you you curled up tucking yourself into his chest hugging him far to exhausted to argue and cuss him out for being a dick. He moved slowly wrapping his other arm around you hugging you rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry....I really am, I don’t know why I do those dangerous things...I just always have...Never had to think about other people before" you felt him nod and kiss your head.

"Well now you do, I was terrified. Am terrified when I see you do those stupid stupid things I'm terrified that one day...One day I wont be fast enough, strong enough to save you....I am not invincible there are things out there that can weaken me and one day I might not be able to save you one day I might not be there to find you" you cringed at just how he said the words he was telling the truth.

"I-I will be better from now on...I will try to stop my adrenaline seeking habits...But it will take time, Ive always been like this." He smiled kissing you deeply.

"I know you will little girl~ but your always going to have me hovering over your shoulder...Maybe I could take you flying? To get your fix?" He chuckled as you remembered your last little flight with him. You shook your head.

"N-no thank you Clark I didn’t like that..." he smirked at you nipping at your ear

"like you’d have a choice baby girl~ I think that’s what I’m going to do from now on when I catch you being naughty, scoop you up and fly you off somewhere for a good old spanking!" You groaned

"Noooo Clark don’t! No more spanking...And someone will seee!" he laughed at your pout and poked your nose watching as you scrunched it at him huffing

."Oh yes little lady spanking is something we are definitely keeping up with you sorely need it, and don’t worry there are many quiet places I can take you to tan that naughty little bottom!...And now you know you’d best behave at work to~ no more three hour lunch breaks to go see a movie...Yes I know all about that" You flushed and buried your face in his neck whingeing at him yawning, the days events catching up to you. He sighed tightening his hold on you breathing in your scent.

"I love you baby never forget that" you mumbled it back to him tiredly making him smile as you snuggled into him, he had no doubt that tomorrow you’d be mad at him and sulk over going to work with a bruised bottom and the fact that he has been the one spanking you around town. But that was tomorrow and he could deal with it then for now he was content, the truth was now out and it was a huge weight lifted from him and he could rest peacefully knowing you were safe and sound with him.

#superman imagine #superman x you #superman x reader #superman smut #clark kent imagine #clark kent x you #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc x you #dc x y/n #clark kent x y/n #superman x y/n

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orangegreet · 3 years

Text

No Minor Miracles | Chapter 8

On the Other Side of the Fold | Part Two

In which we learn just how it is that the Sun Summoner got herself so deep in this shit.

Everything about this was wrong.

The gathered crowd cheered and wept as they looked at her. Alina caught faces of people she knew but her mind could not place them.

Nothing felt real. Her hand was limp in Zlatan’s and her insides were caving in.

She had thought the knowledge that she would not ever actually marry him would be enough to sustain the illusion. Pushing through would be easier if she knew she would never have to kiss him, would never have to pretend she enjoyed his touch.

It was not enough.

Her chest pulsed. Anguish. Agony.

She recognized it, of course, but was surprised it was not only her own that she felt.

And then her eyes found Aleksander’s across the square.

Their tether was amplified and energized from their week together and in that moment she felt as if she was projected forward, standing directly in front of him.

Every inch of his face and his body and his soul was exposed to her and she did not deserve the honor of it.

She was broken and confused and she felt like a child in her naivety.

Did she know he would not come after her? Is it not what she would have done for him?

This was not what she had planned for when she began this day. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when things began to fall apart.

____________________________

Roughly Three Years Ago

The resolve she felt to leave Aleksander alone was not soothing. The image of him, prostrate and half mad on his bed on a winter night, replayed in her head over again.

She needed him. She could not be with him right now.

She wanted to be. It was not fair to him to stay at arm’s length all the time.

Restless and agitated, Alina sent herself on trips around the West, hoping to alleviate the pangs of longing—or at least distract herself from it.

It was one thing to have spent a whole decade without him. She was so young when they first met. So certain in her opinion of good and evil. Of right and wrong.

He hurt her then and she spent a decade licking her wounds and holding herself above him, apart from him.

During that time she had mostly focused on the negative feelings she harbored. Half crazed with intrusive thoughts of him, of his voice and his touch and his very being, she endeavored to convince herself of his ambivalence toward her.

He did not want her for herself as a whole—he wished only to harness her power.

Living in that lie allowed her freedoms she would otherwise withhold from herself. She indulged in everything she wished and denied herself nothing.

Heartache at leaving behind her Shadow Summoner—her equal and her opposite in life—a man who apparently wanted nothing but her power for himself, granted her permission to dive deep into an emotional numbness.

There, she found, she could indulge in every manner of pleasure available. She entertained multiple partners, explored new depths of her powers, practiced an autonomy previously unknown to her.

She was free and untethered.

At the root of this numbness, the thing which made it all truly unbearable, was that everyone around her, her friends and her cohorts, deeply loathed the Darkling.

For many of them, he was a ruthless General who called them to give their lives for him without any promise of peace.

Forced conscription was not a desirable outcome for these soldiers who eventually became deserters of his Second Army.

He ordered them to give their lives, to sacrifice themselves in Ravkan wars and he promised it would be worth it for the life they would gain.

But too many of his soldiers saw only death and destruction. Too many felt their early grave would cheat them of the life they were promised.

Others, worse still, were victims to his spies and enforcers. Devoted Second Army soldiers (for there were ten times as many loyal servants as there were impassioned deserters), did their part excavating Grisha refugees from hiding in order to ensure no one dodged the draft.

Young children, ripped from the arms of their families and sent to the Little Palace. It was cruel to witness. Cruel to live.

Alina sat, arms looped over a distraught mother, fresh to the loss of her child—and she felt shame.

Shame because she could not find a fury for the Black General.

What she found instead was a soup of feelings, stewed together and luke warm. Where was her rage? Her sense of justice?

She felt only confusion and defense. Love and loyalty tangled across lines in the sand.

No one shared her views. No one was safe to speak with about them. No one would entertain a conversation on the possible virtues of the Darkling.

Ten years passed this way.

_________________________

Her doubts had been growing for a while.

Her memories of him reformed, casting him in a new light and she began to consider a harder truth to swallow after nearly a decade of dismissal: the Darkling, the Shadow Summoner—the Black Heretic, had been just as madly in love with her as she had been with him.

They were eternal. She knew this—this was a concrete fact to which she would hold tight. Eternal. Inevitable.

One day it would be just the two of them.

Alina found that was the only true relief for her loneliness.

Then Aleksander called her to him at that army outpost and together they melted into the bliss of reunion and acknowledged the truth of their fate.

Alina felt so full for the first time. Everything was coming to rights. At last.

That anxious fiery feeling that she harbored always inside herself was soothed and quelled with the introduction of his patient, cool darkness and she felt that, finally, she was at peace.

Aleksander did want her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. All that was left was to let the pieces fall in place. Time.

Now she knew, she could work toward that Inevitable.

Speed it up. Help it along.

_____________________

Alina was reenergized in her operations and strategized her next moves. If she could get her people set up on their own, self-sufficient and motivated without relying on a Sun Summoner, she could be free.

It was time to begin the next phase—expansion.

For too long, her group struggled to maintain alliances in Kerch and in West Ravka. The place where people should be most enlightened and sympathetic to the plight of Grisha, refugees struggled to flee without risking captivity. Without risking death.

Fjerda chased them south and Shu Han shooed them further West and slavers packed them onto ships and delivered them to Kerch.

Their operation had grown under her leadership. They had the people and the training to establish strongholds in more places than just Novyi Zem.

Her hope for what was to come, for a life with Aleksander, at his side, buoyed her into her next mission.

It was time to establish a presence in West Ravka and with the help of Nikolai, she was ushered into the caring home of upper class sympathizers. Do-gooders who believed in rights for all people.

Their own son was Grisha; a tide maker who worked under a ‘Captain Sturmhond.’

For upperclass people such as themselves, it was the best they could hope for given the political climate in West Ravka.

The winds were changing and on this side of the Fold, the public was growing confident in their prejudice against Grisha.

Ignorance and hate which only grew under the influence of the growing Secessionist Party.

_____________________

When Alina met the General of the First Army, it was well before he became General.

At the time she had paid little attention to him. He was nothing more than a Commander—one who should have been sidelined by Xenia. Then by Xenia’s father.

The blushing Commander Zlatan should have been married off to her beautiful friend and host. He should have retired from the Army and been pushed into his wife’s family business.

A lucrative career managing exports with posh comforts at home and gorgeous, lovely wife to adore.

Zlatan never would have risen in the ranks. Never would have become the blight that he was now.

She still remembered the supper party when it all fell apart. When Zlatan was dismissed and would never again be invited into their home. His courtship with Xenia effectively nullified.

“A sun summoner?” Alina had said, picking up the line of conversation started by Commander Zlatan to Xenia’s father at the head of the table.

He had mentioned the phrase indirectly and Alina was just nervous enough to risk a faux pas by bringing it to the attention the entire table. “I did not realize you were a religious man, Commander."

He frowned, “Indeed, I am not. However, the rumors I’ve been hearing around the city have given me pause. Scattered eye witness accounts followed by bodies burnt to a crisp. Ghastly sun burns in the shape of a human hand over their mouths.”

The women at the table gasped and the Commander apologized, “I do not mean to speak in poor taste, ladies. Pardon me. I sometimes forget I am not on base. I will endeavor to make the switch to a more sensitive nature.”

His declaration was met with a polite nod from Xenia’s mother and Xenia herself. However, Alina could not abandon the topic so easily.

“How can we be sure this is the work of a fabled Sun Summoner? I am sorry to sound skeptical—but my education keeps me hesitant to lean in to such rumors.” Alina answered with a decisive nod.

"What do you propose it is?” Zlatan eyed her curiously. As usual, Alina found herself squirming under his gaze. Something in it was unsettling.

“Weapons, Commander. Nations at war bring about the most gruesome technology.” She said simply.

“If not that, why not a rogue Inferni Grisha? I suppose because it is much less sensational, it is not something the public would like to accept.”

“No, they do want to believe this is proof of a Sun Summoner.” He took another drink from his goblet and lowered it. “As I am not in religious company I will share that I do not hold much hope for a Sun Summoner myself. Even if there were such a creature, the Fold is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.”

Xenia’s father looked dismayed. “Surely you do not speak of secession, Commander?” Xenia was frowning, shuffling in her seat.

“Come now, Daniil. Let us not be naive. We all know that West Ravka could be a stronger country—a greater one—if were not expected to keep sending our goods and money through the abyss of the Fold. We cannot remain dependent on the crown while this obstacle divides our country. Secession is the only solution.” A servant stepped forward to refill the goblet of the Commander.

“Your points may have some merit, but surely you cannot expect this to be seen through. We have no allies to secede.” Daniil leaned forward in his chair, impressing his point with a finger to the table.

Daniil continued, “Any allegiance we could win on our side would put another country in jeopardy of going to war with the crown in Os Alta. Or worse, they risk being caught up in funding a civil war for us. Who do you expect will risk a war?”

Daniil was hiding his dismay quite well given the circumstances and decorum which the occasion warranted but Alina knew him well enough to think he had become quite disturbed by this turn of events.

“There is no risk to worry about if the proposed ally is currently at war with the old country, Daniil.” The Commander sounded positively smug.

Alina’s heat bristled through her body. Fjerda. He would have us align with Fjerda.

“You cannot mean—“ Danill began, asking the question about to burst from her lips.

“Fjerda has the resources and the weapons to outfit our men. They are already at war and the Tsar is barely keeping them at bay. If we ally ourselves with them, we could leverage the might of our army and theirs and gain independence from the East.”

Daniil sat back in his chair.

His eyes flicked to his daughter who was wearing her pain quite plainly. Alina held her hand under the table.

“And when Fjerda demands entry to roam West Ravka for Grisha?” Daniil asked. “To turn out houses and homes in search of them. To try them as ‘witches’ in the city square—how will the newly established West Ravkan government respond?”

The Commander blushed. The red tinging his entire face spoke to the amount of wine he consumed. “Well, allegiance bought must be paid somehow, Daniil. This is war, after all.”

Xenia, of all people, got to her feet.

The Commander looked startled to see the tears on her face.

“The way you cast the lives of people at the feet of monsters does not make you cunning. It makes you a monster. I would like for you to leave now.” Her eyes shifted to her father’s who nodded and rose from his chair.

Xenia left the room. The Commander was never invited back.

________________________

Alina did not see him again for a couple years. Neither the commander, nor Aleksander whom she was still on a freeze out with—as they agreed.

She filled her time traveling around West Ravka, visiting orphanages and villages.

Praying for the people, delivering food and supplies—it was an excellent cover for finding Grisha in hiding.

Helping funnel them through the proper channels to get out of the West now that Secessionist lunatics were rising up against them.

Secessionists did not separate a common Grisha from a Second Army soldier. In their eyes, all Grisha who were citizens of Ravka must eventually be conscripted and would ultimately be used by the Tsar to fight them in the impending Civil War.

The people did not know they had a Sun Summoner in their midst. To them, she was merely Anya—Sankta Anya as she was increasingly named.

Her reputation preceded her and when she visited a village, people cheered and rallied around the Mother of Ravka.

She prayed and dying crops came back to life, revitalized whole fields as if the feeding power of sunlight were injected back into their stems by her prayers alone.

Through the power of her persuasion and charm, she arranged a new eco-system in every village.

With the crop lands producing double their share, the farmers had more wealth. Anya—Santka Anya—asked only in payment that they proceed to donate a percentage of their wealth and resources toward lifting up the orphans and sickly members in their community.

What farmer would dare go back on their word? If they did, would they not see their crop begin to fail? It was too great a risk.

This simple act boosted the economies, lifting the lowest class into a livable state of being.

Sankta Anya brought with her reason and prayer and she left behind harmony and abundance. And the people loved her for it.

____________________________

It was in one such town, that she sat at the table of a nobleman who employed half the village with work weaving and stitching sailcloth for the West Ravkan Fleet.

In this home she came across Commander Zlatan again. A man whom she had not seen in two years—not since that night when he revealed himself as a Secessionist and showed the depth of his evil.

Alina was quite chilly toward him the entire evening which, to her consternation, the Commander seemed to find quite amusing.

He eyed her like rabbit caught in a trap and it wasn’t until the dinner had ended that she received another shock from him.

Zlatan had cornered her in the sitting room where she waited for her escort to fetch the borrowed coach which would return her to the town.

“It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Anya. You really do look well.” Alina looked around the room, wishing dearly for an escape but there was no one.

Only she and Zlatan.

“You are too kind, Commander, really.” She turned away from him, eyes expectant on the door.

“Forgive me for my haste but I do not know when I will get the chance to see you again.” Zlatan said.

Alina turned a sharp expression on him, taking a step back as she did so.

“It has taken a while to catch up to you, you see. It seems you travel farther and faster than a bird’s migration and I am embarrassed to say I have been chasing you for quite a while now.”

Alina turned up a corner of her mouth and then glanced back toward the door, “Well best say your piece, Commander. I am quite tired and will not wish to delay once the coach arrives.”

Zlatan laughed, as if that is precisely what he expected her to say.

“Very well then. Typically I would not wish to rush such a task but you leave me little choice. I wished ask if you are betrothed.”

The words landed with a thud between them and Alina stared at him in shock.

“And, if you are not, I next mean to ask if you have taken a vow of celibacy.”

He looked as confident as he had the entire conversation.

“Beg pardon, Commander, but what business is it of yours?” She said, hardly able to keep the sneer out of it.

He chuckled and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, you see, if you are neither betrothed and are willing to marry—well…I had thought perhaps you might be willing to hear an offer of marriage from me.”

Alina blinked rapidly and then turned away from him.

Emotions surely were playing across her face and it would not do for him to see and guess at any of her thoughts.

Alina did think of course, of Aleksander. In fact, the Commander was all but forgotten as she allowed herself to dwell on the man she was trying to leave alone at the moment.

Anything to remove herself from the here and now.

The Commander was making quite a name for himself and his outspoken political views across West Ravka. If Aleksander had heard any of the whisperings about this man in the last couple of years—well there could not be another man who was a perfect foil of her Shadow Summoner.

Elite and high-ranking army member, rising leader of the Secessionist Party and someone who gave no regard for any Grisha, friend or foe. Perfect opposites.

They would destroy each other if given the chance.

She longed for Aleksander and for one insane moment, she thought to tug on their tether and see if he would come to her. Witness this catastrophic event for himself.

Alina righted herself—the fear of what she had almost just done knocked her back into reality and she turned back to Commander Zlatan. The blushing man she met a couple years ago all but erased and replaced with this cocky militant.

“Why would you want to marry me, Commander? You hardly have a shortage of suitable matches—many women who would bring you money and status.”

“Indeed.” His eyes glimmered at hers and nausea swept through her gut, “Those women may be suitable for my station now, perhaps. However, for what I am to become I need someone more… Saint-sent.”

Alina quirked a brow but said nothing.

“You see, Anya,” He condescended, “It is no secret that General Balakin is getting on in years. There is talk among the ranks that he is on his way out—”

He cut himself off. Allowing a finger to pull at his own cuffs to cover his nerves.

“To speak quite plainly, you have the love of the people.”

A bitterness stole over his features, “‘Sankta Anya’. Had I known the night we met how that title would stick…”

He did not finish his thought.

When she did not speak he added, “I’m not doing a very good job of selling this to you, am I?”

“You’re not. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the circumstances under which we met but I have not.”

“Ah. I was more naive then.” His eyes flicked to the floor, “Xenia was a wonderful woman—is a wonderful woman, I am sure, but we did not see eye to eye on important matters.”

Alina thought to show him her power right then and there.

The desire to see him quake in his uniform and bow before her celestial starlight was compulsive. She would have him on his knees right there before she burned him through.

She remained stubbornly composed.

“In any case, Commander, what sort of woman would it make me to betray the trust of a once dear friend and confidant?”

“Please cease your coy attitude, Miss, and let us speak frankly.” Zlatan demanded.

Alina blinked at him.

“I will ascend as the General of the First Army before the years end. Where General Balakin threatened and teased a plan for secession for years, I will make good on that deliverance.”

He held the lapels of his uniform, head up high, “I would do so better with you at my side. Should you find me so abhorrent that you would not consider a more intimate relationship, I will be satisfied in a political marriage—partnership, even, with you.”

“You presume I wish to partner with you. I assure you, I do not.”

“It is the people who will be served by our union. Surely you see that, Anya.”

She bristled at the implication. At the way he so clearly spoke only of the otkazat’sya. Forget the people who he would leave to ruin—her true people.

“You speak so casually about undermining the rule of a Tsar and claiming half a country in your own name.”

“No!” Zlatan stepped forward. She stepped back.

He held his hands up in placation, “Not my name. The name of the people. Our people in West Ravka—they deserve better than what we have been served on this side of the Fold.

“With you at my side, the common people will be assured of our leadership through what is to come—even if it is civil war.”

They both knew it would assure a civil war and yet he continued to condescend her. “They trust your good nature, Sankta. They will follow your rule.”

Alina turned away from him.

This changed everything. How this opportunity could have fallen into their laps—it was unheard of.

She could not look at him. The Council would have to know—and soon.

“Very well. I will think it over. I require time to pray to the Saints for guidance.”

She could hear the eye roll occurring behind her back.

“Of course. At the Saints mercy. Will a month be enough?”

Her panic spiked.

“I cannot say for sure. We will start at a month.”

Zlatan was silent and then stepped closer to her.

“Very well. I will be back in the capital a few months time. Perhaps we can speak then. I will not change my mind and you will have an opportunity to truly consider the good we could do. Together.”

Alina nodded but did not look at him.

Dread had filled her up and the only relief was in that persistent hollow she found in her chest.

The space where she and Aleksander were once connected.

_________________________

It was the very next night that Alina received her wish.

Aleksander finally called to her.

She had hoped to receive clarity.

She had hoped to get in insight somehow.

Alina was ready to do away with her secrecy and let Aleksander into her plans.

Now. It was time.

Alina was ready to be his comfort and would be willing to beg for his in return—was unable to survive longer without it.

He called to her and she disappeared into their ethereal connection with haste and a tender hope.

To stumble upon the scene—her truest love, her heart tie, deep in the throes of what could only be called desperate love-making…she felt her insides squelch. Eviscerated into nothing.

His passion—Saints! his passion—it stole the breath from her lungs and the power inside her flickered in futile resistance.

She was a hollow, gutless, aching shell.

____________________________

The images plagued her for months after, following her when she closed her eyes. Forcing her to doubt what she was so sure of once.

It interrupted her thoughts, peppering the conversation. The very important conversation which would decide her fate.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Artur’s words pierced her reverie.

“This is better than we could have hoped. The opportunity this has afforded us—it is practically divine.” He did not bother to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Artur, speaker of the Council, held no more weight in the decisions than any other member. And yet it was he would receive her ire first.

“I will not be sold off as a bride to that Grisha-hating otkazat’sya.” She hissed.

“You will do what the Council decides. We are a democracy, Alina. You may be the Sun Summoner but you took an oath to bend to the will of the Council. Are you breaking your vow now?”

The other members shifted uneasily and Alina implored them all, sparing no one from her gaze.

“This council never used to take liberties like this—not over individuals and not over me. Whose idea was it to bring this to a vote—to take this decision away from me entirely?”

No one answered.

At first.

“I called the vote, girl.” Baghra volunteered with almost a bored expression on her face.

“Someone had to make a move. You were going to let an opportunity slip right through your inexperienced hands.”

“You of all people have no right to make these calls over my life.”

Baghra who ruined her life once would seek to ruin it again.

“You are still a child. You know nothing of the world—not like I do. Marrying Zlatan will put you in the appropriate position to take control of all West Ravka when the time is ripe—”

“Zlatan is a loathsome scoundrel and throwing my support behind him is akin to selling my very soul and all Grisha along with it.” Her hand hit the table.

“Zlatan will not dither.” Artur interjected. “He will be General within the month and he will make his move to secede within the year. It is smart of him to secure you at his side. He knows you have pull over the common people.”

Alina turned her fury back to him, “Yes and he will exploit it and crush the common people for his own gain.”

She glanced around the room, “We know this is true. We cannot consider condoning it.”

Still no one spoke.

“Nevertheless, he will secede.” Artur began again, “West Ravka wants him to do so. If he goes away, another will step in to take his place. The Secessionist Party will not be silenced, they will only be strengthened by a martyr to their cause.”

Alina began to shake her head but Artur cut her off, “The people want this, Alina. Someone will make it happen. If not Zlatan, then someone else. He is the enemy we know. We are fortunate that we know him well."

Baghra opened her mouth again, “We are fortunate that it is you he wants, Sun Summoner.”

Pabel would never have let this happen.

She wished she could speak to Aleksander. She wished she did not feel so alone. She wished she had stayed with him when she first met him.

Let him use her the way he said he would, even.

Anything would be better than this.

Artur was in full war-planning mode again, gathering nods from the Council as he met their eyes. “We let Zlatan do the dirty work of secession. Let him divide the country. Kalem is in place to take out the Tsar and the crowned prince at our direction. Nikolai will be forced to give up his alias and ship and take the throne at Os Alta.”

Alina was shaking her head again.

When had all of this moved so quickly? Had everything occurred in her absence? Was she simply a pawn for the Council now? Currying favor and love from the common people while they plotted and planned and ruined her behind closed doors?

“Yes, Alina. The Shu are making alliances with the Tsar now. They will upend the entire Second Army and no Grisha will be safe in the entire country.”

Alina pinched the bridge of her nose as old Georgy’s voice croaked from across the table, “Nikolai will step up to the throne. At last we will have a true Grisha ally on the throne in Os Alta, Alina. At last.”

The words from Pabel’s oldest friend and partner fell heavy around them. Her heart was shattering further at the sting.

When would she be allowed to decide what was right for herself?

She wondered, if her heart had not already been broken by Aleksander—if she could believe she still had him to fight for—would this go differently?

Would she feel able to truly fight back with the full might of a Solstice Sun instead of cowering like a wilting camomile in snow?

Tears welled in her eyes.

Her voice was so small.

“A Grisha ally for the throne in the East and a monster of a dictator for the West. A dictator propped up by me!” She pointed at her chest. “Propped up by this entire council! A shiny new tyrant for all Grisha on this side of the Fold!”

It was hysterical and she knew it but she could not stop herself.

“Zlatan will never work with Nikolai! He is getting in bed with Fjerda as we speak. We know this story.”

She pleaded with them, “We know what is next. Grisha hunted—Grisha enslaved. West Ravkans will have incentive to turn on their Grisha neighbors and the blood will be on our hands!”

Finally, blessedly, she saw doubt begin to show around the table.

Then Baghra spoke again, “Once Zlatan has begun the secession and you are established at his side, we will take him out.”

Alina glared at the woman. Swaying the others back under her will.

The same way she swayed Alina once upon a time.

“You have the love of the people, Sankta Anya.” Artur added, “You, not Zlatan. He needs you.”

“And when Zlatan dies, what do you expect people will do? What do you expect people will think of me?"

“No one will fault you or accuse you of blood on your hands.” Tolya said, thoughtfully. Another betrayal. “You will take up his mantle and lead West Ravka as you were meant to do.”

“You will look the perfect picture of a Saint as you do it.” Baghra again. “You will have suffered for Ravka. You will have lost your husband and the people will adore you all the more for it.”

“Then, when the time is right, you will extend an olive branch of hospitality to Nikolai.” Artur advised. “The newly installed Tsar who cannot afford a civil war right now. He will protect the Second Army.”

“But the Shu—” Alina protested.

“The deal with Shu Han and their Princess will be null under the death of the crown prince.” Baghra said almost impassively. “Nikolai will need the Second Army to fight. He will not let them fall to harm.”

Baghra gave Alina a significant look.

Aleksander would be safe. Nikolai would ensure it. He would not fall under the ire of yet another Tsar.

Alina wanted to leave. It was too much and she felt they were relying on several variables as if they were hard facts. It was not advisable.

“It is you, Alina.” Baghra said, meeting her eyes and looking more reasonable than she had ever been. “You will be the beacon of hope at last for all Grisha.”

“The Secessionists will find out I am Grisha—that I am the Sun Summoner. How will they feel about that? Will they put a stop to their Fjerdan brethren? Will they suddenly extend a neighborly hand to Grisha after years of hate and prejudice?” She asked helplessly.

She waited for a rebuttal.

The group did not disappoint.

“At the right moment, we will reveal your true gifts. We can make it look as though the Saints have blessed you with the power of the Sun before whole crowds of people.”

“We will have you shine your powers upon the Fold. If you cannot take it down entirely, you can at least blast a part of it away.” Artur said.

“The point is not what exactly you do to the Fold.” Baghra waved a hand away, “The point will be the story: People will believe they witnessed a miracle. They need not know you were born with this gift. We will sell them a better tale. That through your goodness and mercy to people, the Saints chose you as the vessel of sunlight.”

“I suppose Zlatan will not be around for this little demonstration? His little wife revealed as Grisha—he would be forced to make a stand and we know where he will stand.” Alina was growing weary.

She wished for everyone to be gone. She wished to be gone.

The world was entirely too cruel to house them all in it. She should obliterate them all.

It would be a nice thing to burn so bright for so long. Maybe there she would find peace.

Baghra dismissed this with a wave, “Zlatan will be long dead by the time you are revealed. His prejudices will not come to fruition.”

The room grew quiet. It seemed everything was finally laid out and they would all deliberate before the vote.

“Are we done for the evening? I require time to think.” Alina said.

Artur looked around and nodded to the group who began to disperse. The plot points swirled around her head and Alina gave in, getting to her feet and walking to the window.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Tamar said, timid. Alina closed her eyes, tears falling from them as her last ally in the room fell.

“I know it is not ideal and I do not want to see you married off to that scum any more than you do. But you cannot deny the plan is good.”

“I do understand, Tamar. I am taking it all into consideration. It is just, agreeing to this is a larger commitment than you know.” Aleksander rolled through her mind on a loop, Alina continued, “I will not be compliant for the sake of it.”

Tamar put a hand to her shoulder and then left.

Artur stood behind her. Alina could see him through the reflection in the mirror.

“The Council will reconvene tomorrow morning to cast their votes.” He was wringing his hands, “Alina, we will count your vote as a no and…I would request you not attend the meeting.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “I am banned from meeting with the Council now? A meeting which will decide my fate?”

“We feel that in order to get the most honest votes, it would be better if everyone felt less…conflicted.” Artur said.

He took a breath and stood up straighter. “They have heard your objections and should you wish to voice them again before the vote, you are welcome to deliver them in the opening minutes.

“However, it would be better for the council members and for you, I think, to be allowed some semblance of anonymity. It is only right for the Council to have some emotional distance in order to put all Grisha and Ravka at the forefront of their priorities when they cast their vote.”

To not have to look you in the eyes when they trade you like a Grisha trafficker. The words hung unsaid between them.

When she did not respond, Artur left.

Alina turned, scowling at her reflection in the glass. The view held no stars tonight and she felt as cloudy as the sky. Blurred and confused.

Her thoughts turned again to Aleksander and she almost broke.

He called to her at this very moment. Had not stopped really since the night she first witness him with his lover.

His calls to her would crumble the stone fortress around her eventually. Wave after wave of persistence and desire and need crashed into the barrier and it was all she could do to keep him out.

The way her heart hurt. The way she longed.

Why could she not have been granted centuries alone like he? She would have been able to stand on this side of those years tall and invulnerable—used to the loneliness. She would be experienced in handling the empty, hollow feeling in her chest.

As it was, she felt little more than a child, puffing up her age. She had thought to show him how strong she could be.

Impress him with her self-sufficiency and strategic execution.

She had wanted to conquer the West. Wanted to own it outright.

Then, when the day came, she would join him. They would reunite Ravka. Either by channel through the Fold or by marriage or both. Eventually both.

Inevitably both.

When had it all become so muddy? The way was blurred and opaque now and it felt as if nothing made sense.

The Council would make her a traitor to herself. To her people. To her Shadowed lifeline.

How would he look at her knowing she had allowed herself to be manhandled into a political marriage. One which might impede their own union?

“The others may not guess all your reasons to protest, girl, but I can.”

The fight left her body and her forehead thudded against the glass in response to her voice.

When would Aleksander retrieve his mother?

He may have endured centuries with her but Alina could not last that long under these circumstances. If things carried on this way, Baghra would not survive it either.

Wouldn’t that be just poetic? Baghra gets her death wish fulfilled by her son’s eternal lover.

“Have the last word and be gone, Baghra. I wish to retire.”

Baghra was quiet, though not with judgement. It did not permeate the air as it typically did when she wanted to give Alina her unsolicited opinion.

Alina turned and looked at the old woman with a cautious curiosity.

She looked quite sad.

"I was…mistaken, I believe.”

The words tapped around Alina’s brain, looking for a way in but Alina was thoroughly nonplussed.

“Mistaken.” Alina repeated slowly.

“I warned you off of my son. I meant you to be afraid of him. I believed at the time you would bend to his whim and bring the earth down around him as a result.” Baghra said, voice rough with more than her old age.

“I did not think much of you. You were every bit the naive woman I’d feared you to be. Your loyalty and objectives were unknown and untested to me at the time.”

Baghra took a breath, looking everywhere except Alina. “And so I did as I must.”

“You poisoned me against him. Do not white wash that narrative, Baghra. You assured me of his dark, black heart.”

Alina felt the anger in her tears. In the floodgate of emotion opening up, Alina finally found herself the target of her own scorn.

“And then I was the one who believed it. You were a snake but I was every bit as naive as you expected to have taken your words for truth—to accept them so easily.”

Baghra looked away from her. “Nevertheless, I say this to assure you that where I was mistaken then, I am not mistaken now. Aleksander will be better for this. We can protect him.”

She looked meaningfully at Alina. “But you have to play your part.”

Alina shook her head.

“I will not marry Zlatan. No matter what the vote decides tomorrow.”

“You would risk losing control of the entire country over a vanity title? A political marriage—”

“I will not be sold off simply because I am a woman and this is convenient. I will give myself to no one whom I do not choose. I will not perpetuate a lie!” She shouted.

“Use your head, girl.” Baghra hissed. All quiet and peace forgotten.

“Zlatan will assassinate the Darkling as soon as he is in power. He will use the youth of the bastard son Nikolai to his advantage and cut off the resources for the East at the throat. Think! He fears all Grisha, fears what they can do. He fears the might and power of the Second Army on a battle field. Knows he would not win against them in a civil war. And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. The ‘other’ General.”

"You’re baiting me. I won’t fall for this again.”

“Stupid girl! Do you not understand!? Zlatan will not allow the boy Tsar to keep his Grisha army. You know the pig is allying with Fjerda. He would use them to end the Second Army—may even use them to take down the Little Palace itself.” Baghra was moving closer to Alina and she was already against a wall.

No escape.

“Then we will stop him. We will find another way.”

“This is the way, girl. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another. If you want to keep him alive, this is the best way.”

Alina wanted to scream. She was combusting. Her Light was reaching a critical mass inside of her and any moment her skin would burst and she would detonate.

“I am going to bed. I cannot listen anymore.” She panted, escaping the common room.

_________________________

Alina had just locked the door behind her when she felt it.

Something far worse than the usual insistent tugs of Aleksander.

At first, it was excruciating pain. Radiating from her chest and illuminating her core with Light in some sort of internal fear response.

And then, nothing.

Alina felt as though she were being unmoored. Sent to drift at sea.

Stuck in the abyss of space without an anchor.

She panicked, scrabbling for the loose tether in her chest and held tight.

And then he appeared.

Or rather she appeared to him, where he lay on the ground. Unconscious as blood poured from his back.

“Sasha.” He was hazy before her. That was unusual.

His eyes snapped open, a huff fogging in the air around him. She could not see anyone touching him.

“Sasha…” She said again into the space between them.

“You’re here.” He said. “My sun.”

“What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into, Aleksander?”

She rubbed at her chest where everything was unfurling and the frayed tendrils were like a charged wire split apart.

It danced in the energy that poured from it. It lashed through her core, untamed. It was painful.

She wanted to panic. She was afraid to lose her head. Afraid to miss this.

“A Fjerdan wolf.” He coughed, blood drops splattering over his lips. “You would admire the beast, I’ve no doubt.”

His lips turned up in a wry smile. “I did not see it directly, but I imagine it’s feral rage would remind me of you.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

His lungs heaved a breath. “Everything reminds me of you, in any case…”

He drifted off for a few seconds, stirring only at the sound of her voice.

“Where are you?” She demanded of him. His brow furrowed at her tone. “I will come to you at once but you have to tell me now.”

He sighed again and looked confused, as if he had not understood her.

“If I was to die, I wished it to be at your hands, zoloste. With you I would be warm and you could burn me up. It would be frightening and it would be beautiful.”

“No.” She growled at him, wiping the blood from his lip with her thumb, “Get up you fool. You will not leave me alone on this rock. Aleksander. Get up.”

A chill shuddered over him. She could not see anything but shapes around him.

Was no one going to do anything?

The adrenaline she felt was turning rancid with desperation as she watched him covered in blood but remained impotent to act. Thousands of miles stretched between them.

Baghra’s words were flying like a banner through her head, And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another.

She felt they were fading. He was fading.

Who was going to help him? Where was his army?

“Can you not keep me warm now? It is cold here, where I am. Can you see the snow?” His state was turning toward delirium and she sprang forward to hold his cheek as if just that touch would keep him anchored.

He smiled and twitched his head but did not move.

“I would have your palm on my lips so I could taste your skin, moya koroleva. Please, just once.”

She bristled even as angry tears dropped from her bowed head.

“Stop it, you foolish, foolish old man. Stop trying to give your solemn farewell, I will not tolerate it for another second.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“It makes you sound weak.” She spat the words at him.

He only sighed.

“I hate you for this, Aleksander. I will never forgive you for this.”

He hummed and his eyes closed in relish.

“I adore your zeal always. It lights something in me.” With the little movement he could manage he pressed his face further into her other palm, still warm on his cheek.

“My temperamental lioness. My mercurial, majestic, little Star.” He grinned with eyes closed enjoying his private thoughts.

“These are all the endearments I would name you with—I have others more colorful if you would like to hear them?”

Her hand stroked over his dark locks and tears were still falling and her chest felt close to combustion just hovering on the edge of breaking her apart.

He opened his eyes, a wearisome movement given they opened only enough to reveal half of his black pupils.

With the last of his strength he took in her face. Her tears.

He grimaced.

“It is just as well I should not get to share all the names with you. They are not all so kind, if I’m honest, and I wish only to see you blush in these moments.”

“Do not leave me, Sasha.” Her voice near silent.

“I am sorry, Alina. I would not have banished you if I thought it would end like this.”

“I told you to stop.” She sniffed.

What was this all for without him? If it did not end with them together?

“Please, Alinochka. Give me a few kind words.”

She shook her head and moved closer. Her lips pressed to his temple where she spoke into his skin.

“You are mine and I am yours. We were together in the before and we will be together in the after. You will not get away from me for long, my Sasha.”

He hummed and smiled. “You make it sound so sweet. Like a vow.”

He sighed and her tears tracked in silent hot paths down her face. Her voice left her.

He spoke again. “An after would be something. If you are there, it would be fitting that I would follow.”

He heaved another breath.

“You, the brightest star. Me, your faithful shadow, forever trailing in your wake.”

His eyes did not open again.

The tether frayed entirely and her spirit was cast into an abyss.

______________________

He must really have died. A few moments at least.

She barely had time to draw breath before he was tugging her back. The tether stitched itself together in her presence and she scratched absently at her chest while she followed his body, surrounded by blurred shapes.

Hazy figured moved around him. Fedyor came into view as he touched his General, removing his cloak. Shock had frozen his features.

Ivan appeared, unlatching the buckles of the bloodied kefta.

Ivan his most loyal Grisha. His stoic expression was virtually inscrutable but even Alina could tell he was shaken.

She hung around all evening, keeping vigil as he slept.

Aleksander woke only briefly. Long enough to see her with him. It was nearly morning. She had not rested.

The Council would vote soon.

She squeezed his hand, kissing his forehead and his lips before she whispered, “I will be back, Sasha.”

__________________________

The Council was uncomfortable to see Alina waiting for them in the morning. Though Artur had invited her to review her points before the vote, he had clearly hoped she would not.

“I have an amendment to the proposal. One which I will insist upon if I am to vote in favor of the engagement.”

Tamar and Tolya looked battle ready, nodding at her to continue. Baghra narrowed her eyes but Alina did not care.

“I will go forward with the engagement on one condition. Zlatan must be killed before the marriage can take place.”

Artur opened his mouth to protest but Alina silenced him with a look.

“It will be enough for the people to simply see that we are a united front. We will announce our engagement throughout the West and allow people to see me as a worthy ruler. Marriage need not establish any rights for me.”

Artur still looked uneasy but Tamar and Tolya were already nodding.

“Very well. Zlatan will be dead before a wedding can occur. We can work with that, Sun Summoner.” Baghra looked around, “Shall we vote?”

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #darklina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #politics #mutual pining #betrayal #eventual hea #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #plot twist

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lameass-olivia · 4 years

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Headaches // Ethan Nestor x Reader

Basically, Yn has a pretty bad headache from staying up all night on her laptop (totally didn’t inspo from myself) and Ethan makes it feel better.

Waring // fluffy as hell, unedited

Yn’s phone buzzed from underneath her, she assumed it was just some pointless email so she went back to what she what doing on her laptop.

It was 6:00 in the morning, but Yn didn’t know that. She was too busy editing her latest video. It was a pretty serious one so she wanted it to be perfect, hence why its taking her all night. She was also getting distracted by many other things like, YouTube, Netflix and, (she hates to admit it) Wattpad. Its just so god damn addicting.

Yn’s phone buzzed again so she deiced to turn ‘do not disturb’ on. She pressed the power button gently and finally saw the time. 6:16 AM.

Turns out the buzzing was from her friend who wanted to film the next day. She shot them back a text saying “Of course! You know I can’t resist seeing you” and threw her phone somewhere on her bed.

“Man, I gotta get to bed” she thought aloud.

She finally hit export deciding that the video was done, and that nothing else could make it better. She sat and watched the little circle fill up completely before shutting her laptop.

She stood up so she could get some water, when a sudden pain shot through her eyes.

“Ah, what the fuck?” She cursed loudly. Ethan just so happen to be walking back from the bathroom when he heard her. Yn never really got up early unless she really needed too, and even then she was really bad at it.

Ethan knocked lightly on her door before letting himself in. He didn’t know what to expect, her dying on the floor? Or a splinter? You could never really tell with Yn.

“Hey whats up? Why are you up so early?” He asked his voiced laced with the smallest amount of worry. Yn looked up at him at squinted. “Er... I haven’t slept yet.” She said looking at him, with her eyes still squinted. “What’s er what’re you doing with your eyes? Are you trying to look high? Because if you are, its not working, and you’re failing miserably.” Yn scoffed and rubbed her eyes a bit, “No, they just hurt. Like I can look at my phone screen or laptop just fine, but if I’m not- if I’m just looking at you, or the wall my eyes feel like they’re going to explode.”

Ethan’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh okay, I’ve had that happen before. Were you on your laptop the whole night? Because if you were, I have the cure to your pain” Ethan said with a pleased smile. Yn looked at him and barley nodded. Ethan chuckled a little “C’mon, lay down. I’m going to get you some water and a wet rag. Don’t go on your phone okay? I’ll be right back.”

Ethan left Yn’s room and went to the kitchen to grab the water bottle he gifted her last Christmas. It had the Deathly Hallows symbol on it. Super simple right?

Hey opened the lid and put some ice in it, along with fresh water. He put the water bottle on the counter and grabbed a hand towel out from under the sink and wet it. When it was completely soaked he rang out the majority of the water. He also gabbed two Advil's just in case the wet towel didn’t help.

When he walked into Yn’s room he saw her with her eyes closed. He thought she was sleeping until she said “took you long enough.” He scoffed “yeah, you’re welcome by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Ethan walked to her bed. He handed her the water bottle she took and thanked him silently. She sat up drank some of it and went back down with her eyes closed.

“I have this, its for your eyes. Its just a wet rag. It makes them feel better. Trust me.” Yn waved her hand, signaling him to put it on.

She shivered a bit from the sudden coldness but overall it did help loads.

“I’ll leave these here in case you need them okay?” Ethan was about to stand up and leave, but Yn grabbed his arm.

“Would you mind laying here with me? Unless you have shit to do then, go but, if not?”

Ethan smiled and sat back down on her bed. “Yeah sure Ynn. You just gotta scoot the fuck over.” Yn laughed. “Sorry Eth.” She moved over a bit and let Ethan get situated. Once he was comfortable he put his arm round her and pulled her into a warm cuddle.

Yn took a deep breath and leaned more into Ethan.

She loved him, so much and she didn’t know how much longer she could hide it from him. And his girlfriend.

PART ONE?????? idk maybe.

#crankgameplays #ethan nestor x reader #markimoo #teamiplier #ethan nestor #markiplier #this is totally not based on me minus the ethan part #my eyes do be hurting me doe

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 3 years

Text

Summary: Javi hasn't called...again, Isa tries to distract herself making a new friend, but she doesn't know that her intentions are far from innocent and are tied to Javi crossing paths again with someone from his past.

Warning: cursing, mention of violence, threats, anxiety, kidnapping. Very hateful characters from the show 👀

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN POSTED ALMOST A MONTH AGO. I will try to finish this before this month ends. I think I could wrap this in one chapter more and an epilogue probably.

Just a small warning. This is a work of fiction and the intention is merely to develop a little bit more of a character I adore, Javi Peña. There's mention of the drug cartel, the violence they inflected in Latinoamérica (and as a Latina it hurts me very deeply, believe me) and the political involvement of different governments and agencies but this is not a political statement or trying to do other thing than entertain.

Chapter VII: Smart Choices

Isabel had never been a very popular girl, always the shy one in high school and she made a very small group of friends in college. But as everything in her life, there was a before and after since her life changed and she had Elvira.

She could not go to the club with her friends, their conversations about their new graduate’s struggles hurt her since she had to drop out, their heartbreaks and adventures had nothing to do with her life surrounded by diapers, feeding bottles and sleepless nights and so one day the phone stopped ringing, their friendship was limited to birthday parties and Christmas postcards while she became a mum and a wife. And thus making her world a very small universe with her child at the center and Javi and her turning around her.

So when that lady at the supermarket, Judy, called her she didn’t think anything weird out of it. Instead she was happy, excited to have another struggling mum that needed some comforting from somebody that understands her as much as she did.

“I’m sorry I took the liberty to ask for your phone number, I have a friend that goes to your mum’s salon and I ask her for it” she had said the first time she called.

Judy is a funny and very quick and intelligent woman. When they got their first coffee together, Isa barely asks any question, Judy fills the conversations so Isabel never has the chance to ask when she is meeting her kid or who gave her her phone number since she knows every client of her mother’s salon by heart and nobody mentioned her ever. But Judy keeps the conversation flowing, sharing her tragic story about leaving Colombia out of a very tough situation with a guy and creating a new life for her and her kid in the USA.

“It must have been so tough” Isa pounders

“Colombia back then was a bloodbath, you had to navigate the streets in survival mode, always looking behind your back and praying to come back home safe” Judy explains

“My husband worked in Colombia for a few years”

“Oh really? When?”

“80’s early 90’s"

“Well, he must have known. So sad! it is a very beautiful country...”Judy’s gaze is fixed far away as if she’s remembering something

“I guess it’s difficult to talk about it, my husband never shares much”

“Mm” she hums, she opens a golden lighter and gets the flame close to the cigarette on her red lips “What did he do there?”

“He worked at the Embassy” she’s not lying but she prefers not to specify, and now that’s past, the details are not really important

“Oh! and that’s what he’s doing in Mexico now?” she asks exhaling a white cloud of smoke making a perfect o with her lips

“Not exactly”

“He must be careful; I heard things are following the same path we suffered back in Colombia”

“Yes...he’s...smart, I’m sure he will be fine” Isa answers more to convince herself than her new friend

“I saw in the news the other day how a few civilians died during a clash between two fronting cartels and then the police. Very, very horrible images" she smacks her lips

"I haven't watched the news…" the knot in Isa's stomach grows tighter, Javi haven't called back even if he promised he would

"They kill anyone that is on their way, civilians, gringos too, DEA agents…" the Colombian woman casually brings the coffee cup to her lips when Isa frowns at her

"What did you say?" She asks

"They kill civilians?" Judy smiles uncomfortably the corner of her lips stretching up

"No, the last part"

"Gringos...DEA agents" she repeats

"Why did you say that?" The knot gets tighter restringing her throat and her question is just a whisper

"I… assume Javier must be…"

"I haven't told you what he does"

Judy gasps and bats her long black lashes a few times before changing her face to a complete cold expression, her glossy lips now a tight red line

"Look, Isabel, I think you are a very smart woman…" she starts

"I'm leaving"

Isabel pushes her chair back to go but the other woman's hand holds her to the table, her perfect manicure claws making her stay

"Sit, don't do anything stupid" Judy spats, the brief confrontation has alerted the waiters and they look at them intently until Judy gives them a very warm apologetic smile

"Who are you? What do you want?" Isabel tries to hold herself but her instincts is crying for her tu run, to get her baby back and look for Javier

But Javi could be anywhere

"You know your husband and I met, many years ago" she continues smoking "we worked closely in the hunt of Escobar" she smirks "I admit I was surprised to find him married and with a kid. He used to be involved with a very different type of woman"

"What do you want from Javi? If you hurt him I swear…" Isa mutters

"You must have been really special. A magical pussy" she laughs "or are you that dumb and naive that he lied to you and believed it" she crosses her arms over her chest, looking with a smug face from the white cloud of smoke "do you know what he did in Colombia? Do you know what he's capable of?"

"Where is he? If you touch him I swear to God I kill you" Isa tries to contain the tears, to seem strong but fails which makes Judy smile wider

"Oh! So you are an idiot little girl. Better keep up, cielo, if you want your husband alive"

México

A constant, something that keeps on proving itself to be right: shit does follow him. He tries the breathing techniques that the doctor showed him but the bag on his head stinks like rotten meat and the heat inside the van is unbearable. He finds a little solace feeling Steve's tigh pressed against his. Both of them rocking back and forth with each bump on the road

"Connie is going to kill me" his friend says

" If they don't kill us first"

"Callense cabrones" one shouts and Javi hears the muttering insult Steve pronounces before receiving one hit himself

He feels the vomit running up his throat, the smell, the heat and the fear have mixed themselves on his stomach and he can no longer calm himself down. He’s about to die, he knows it. About time, my friend, I elude death for so long in Colombia, so many close calls and now I’m about to die in some unknown part of Mexico because of a fucking middle age crisis I couldn’t handle.

He tries so hard to close his lips and swallow, breath, Peña, breath. The only cold thing in this van is the thin silver chain and medallion he wears around his neck.

This would be a marvellous moment to do some magic, old man Javi says to himself and that old saint around his neck. What did Isa call the old man engraved in it? Saint Jude. Okay, Jude, show yourself, please. This is actually a lost cause, it’s your field of expertise, c’mon

“Andando” the sicario pushes him out of the van before he can even process they have stopped the vehicle. The man grabs him by the arm harshly and guides him forward, the sun pierces the black bag over his head but he can’t only perceive the light and the sound of the gravel under his boots.

Suddenly the light changes to a white light and he feels the temperature lowering: a house with air conditioner and there’s a soft murmur of water but otherwise the house is silent. Javi memorizes those tiny details, it’s the only thing that could eventually help him if they’re held hostage and not killed right away.

The sicario pushes him and for a few milliseconds Javier thinks he’s about to fall hard to the ground but ends up on a chair. Then they pull both his arms to the back without any care and handcuffs him there.

Javi jumps from his seat when he hears the loud thump of the door closing, still in the dark and without any sign of company, he calls:

“Steve…”

Nothing

“Your friend is in the other room”

He could recognize that fucking voice anywhere, is engravated in his brain, in that part of his head that is capable of the worst, that tiny espace where he keeps every hateful and the worst people he has met, Bill Stechner being the number one on that list.

“I was so happy thinking you were dead and crawling back to hell” Javi sighs before he’s hit by the clarity in the room. He blinks fast until his eyes are adjusted to it again. It’s a nice room, wide and scattered by a few pieces of furniture covered by white sheets, the dust in the air makes evident it has been closed for a long time.

“So was I thinking you were rotting old in your father’s little ranch but here we are”

His beard is greyer and the already receding hairline is back a few inches, but he looks exactly the same, tha smug stupid face is looking at him from above. That smirk of “I’m always five steps ahead from you” the same he had when he made him leave the Embassy before catching Escobar and the same he had when he tried to take down Cali. But now he’s here in Mexico, what the fuck is he doing here?

“And, do tell, please, why the fuck do are path cross again?” Javier spats

“Oh! I didn’t want to cross paths with you. I must admit I found it funny when I saw who was managing the account for our textile export, but you, being the noisy stupid man that you are “ Stechner approaches him, his smirk freezes in a tight line “had to call your friends. And you see, you’re mending on my business again”

“So you switched from the CIA to the Narcos?”

“Javier, javier…” he sighs “You are always focusing in the wrong things and not in the bigger picture”

“The bigger picture being…” Javier rolls his eyes at him

“You wouldn’t understand, I tried a few times in Colombia and you ended up fucking it all up” he shakes his head

“So what do you want from me now?”

“Well now that you are here fucking everything up again I’d prefer if the repercussions go to the right direction”

“Which is it not yours, I guess, or whomever you’re working for”

“Yeah” he laughs and points at him “you’re smart when you want”

“And wouldn’t it be better to kill us right away?”

“Oh, you see, my associetes want to do it” Stechner nods “The really don’t give a fuck. But I told them that you could be of service”

“You’re really delusional if you think…”

Stechner interrupts him “And if you weren’t willing to cooperate we could always resort to the good old ways” the man walks to a nearby table, over the white sheet there’s a manila folder. Bill opens it slowly, that stupid smirk back at again on his face, relishing on the desperation and fear in Javi’s eyes.

Please, not Isa, please not my child

“Your wife made a new friend, it’s a small world after all, isn’t it?” Stechner shows him a picture, he recognises the cafe, Isa is seated talking to another woman he hasn’t seen in years.

“Judy is very nice when she wants” he takes out another picture, this time Isa is on the backyard playing with Elvi “You have a very beautiful family”

“If you touch them, motherfucker” Javi tries to get out of the chair, he doesn’t even care if the metal from the cuff cuts his wrists. He just want to do what he has wanted to do since he started working in Colombia and crossed paths with the CIA

“They won’t, it is entirely upon you that this is just a simple anecdote. I promised I’ll try to control them...if you do what you have to do” Stechner shrugs and throws the pictures to the floor where they rest in front of Javi’s feet

“What do you want?” he murmurs, his gaze is fixed on those images trying to see something, when were they taken? how does he know if they already hurt them?

Please, please he begs and his vision is starting to blurry

“Well, my associates will appreciate it if the DEA will center its efforts on our common enemy. You see it right? it’s the same story all over again; the enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

“I’m not DEA anymore”

“Are you? I mean you’re here with your dear Steve in an ongoing investigation that mainly relies on your testimony so…”

Stechner roams around Javier’s chair “It’s not like you haven’t done it before, Javi, think about it as if you are involving yourself with the lesser evil, there will be a time to capture my associates, but not now”

“Just go back home and when the time comes you can assure the DEA that those terrible horrible people that are getting that poison in our beautiful country are involved with our common enemy. What is the difference between one Cartel and the other? It just a matter of time they both get caught” he continues

“Why are you involved in this?”

“We’ve done this many times, Peña, let it go. It’s better this way or do you want to end up like Kiki? or better yet, your beautiful wife or your kid?” Bill points to the pictures of the Peña’s family “think about it”

And he thinks about it, the hate and the fear burning in his chest. So many years protecting himself in covers of solitude, brief encounters to relieve the stress and alcohol, protecting his heart from this fear and pain of getting his family killed for his job.

You did this to them, you looked for it. Now what?

Isa (Laredo)

She drives fast, fast as she has never driven before. She has always been a very responsible person and even more when she became a mother. Elvira is seated on the back, her little hands holding the seat hard and she has called her a few times, her voice shaky and scared.

“Mami, where are we going?”

“To Grandpa’s, honey”

“You’re too fast”

“I know, but we need to get there now”

The screeching sound of the tires stopping abruptly on the road has alerted Chucho who now waits with the porch lights on when they get out of the car.

“Mija, what’s wrong?” he screams

“I think Javi is in the danger”

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x ofc #Javier Peña fanfic #Narcos #Narcos Fanfic #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Pena #Javier Pena fanfic #Javi Peña #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fic

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goodproofingwater · 4 years

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Chapter 16 | Tinder Tommy

Words: 1953 Notes: hello my lovelies, i am so sorry that this has taken so long - i feel like this has literally been months and you deserve better! lots of shit has been happening in my life which has meant that i haven’t really had the focus to do anything but watch brooklyn 99 or peaky blinders for the 500th time, but ya girl is back for now! I hope that you are all still with me and are looking forward to seeing how Tommy works with his new found affection! This chapter pairs directly with @idesiretomhardy‘s Mr Solomons story (in that the dialogue is the same in parts, and the timelines are the same. These stories exist in the same universe. Enjoy!

Taglist (just send me a message if you would like to be added):

@a-dorky-book-keeper @ishoutmarcoandyoushout @idesiretomhardy @theamuz @blinderscaps @peakywriting @justanothershelby @contemporary-mary @auroravipers @moonyscardigans @peakysxshelby @miss-shelby-barnes @vintage-fantasyyy @ly—canthrope @morgan-1830 @i-love-you-green @l0tsofpennies @exploringmycosmicsoul @maah-chan @peakyblindersengland

The journey to Birmingham was almost pleasant. The first class ticket his assistant had scored him came with whiskey and although he couldn’t smoke, the journey was so seamless that he was only craving a cigarette when he stepped into the fresh air of Birmingham new street.

It had always amazed him in the way it only could a local to Birmingham that he could get to between the London office and the place it had all began in a matter of hours. He remembered when he had to call a car to get to the London office when it just started up, when the trains were so shit that he had to rely on his own mileage to get there. But so much had changed since then. He had changed since then.

Tommy Shelby crawled into Small Heath four hours after he had reluctantly left his home in Mayfair, the staff he had in the midlands office a far cry from the suit wearing, polished people in Canary Wharf.

“Good afternoon Mr Shelby,” the receptionist spoke, smiling at him and looking toward the old knocked down wall which led to the rest of what they loosely called the Birmingham office.

The large room had once been three or four terrace houses but had long since been knocked through, a small platform allowed for John to stand by a massive touch screen where he was checking stock prices and the market which was much further from their legitimate business.

The business in the north was far different from the import and export business in the south, and far from legal.

Shelby Company Limited were the first company in history to produce software which allowed the significant players in import and export of illegal goods to check market price, and buy and sell illegal goods on a secure server which was entirely untraceable.

The software was a massive success, and had gained the Shelby name infamy with even the most brutal and violent drug cartels still operating in the 21st century.

“So what was so urgent that I had to get a train up here immediately?”

John stepped aside and showed him the spreadsheet he was working on, and pulled up the share prices for drugs so it sat next to it.

“By all accounts, the cocaine market is following the same pattern as it did 5 years ago”

John didn’t have to go into detail for Tommy to remember the influx of cocaine into the country via a rival London based company, and the price drop which followed due to supply heavily outweighing demand. It had been the main reason Tommy had set up the office in the south.

“Is it Kimber again? Because I swear to god—“

“Not Kimber. His company uses our software now and he called the support team thinking it was a fucking glitch in the system”

Tommy’s brow furrowed as he eyed the prices and the spreadsheet which showed the fluctuations John had been keeping track of since the incident so long ago.

“And uh.. that’s not all” John spoke, gesturing for Tommy to follow him into his office and he did, taking a seat in one of the plush leather chairs which sat on the other side of Johns desk while his younger brother poured them whiskey and placed the glasses in front of them. “As well as the share prices I’ve been keeping track of the weight of the product coming in and going out. It’s been declining steadily for the last week. Not by much, not even enough to alert me at the start but it’s going down an ounce each time.”

“So you’re telling me someone is skimming off the top?” And John nodded, sipping his whiskey as he unintentionally mirrored Tommy’s posture, leaning back in his chair with one ankle resting on the other knee.

Tommy let out a sigh, hating that there was yet another issue that he had to deal with. External problems like share prices and supply and demand came with the territory. Internal problems were not something he had patience for.

“Any theories who it is?”

“You mean except Michael?” The malice in Johns voice was matched only by his expression, his hate and disdain for his cousin clear in everything from his brow to his clenched fingers around his glass.

Tommy responded only by rolling his eyes, Michael’s drug problem being something he was fully aware of.

“Michael pays for what he takes. And he pays double. Any real theories?”

John remained quiet, sipping his whiskey and allowing his silence to speak for itself.

“Fantastic.” Tommy sighed, downing his whiskey in one gulp and plucking a cigarette from the case he had pulled from his inside pocket. “Do we at least know which office?”

“Oh it’s definitely up here. The coke is lighter way before it even touches county lines”

Tommy lets out a sigh with the exhale of his cigarette, smoke billowing from his nose as the prospect of someone stealing and the punishment they deserve runs through his mind.

“Alright. I’ll speak to the managers up here separately and let them know what’s going on, ask them to keep an eye. I don’t want either of us up here if there’s a supply/demand problem in case we get raided. These people will get away with saying they were following orders, but we’re the fucking captains.”

John nods, sipping his whiskey and glancing out of the window, his mind clearly trying to puzzle out who it could be as Tommy did the same.

Later that evening, Tommy slipped into a bar in new street to wait for an old friend. One that he couldn’t quite believe was even stepping foot in the city.

The room seemed to part for Alfie Solomons, the very air around him bending as he walked into a bar Tommy had picked for its proximity to Alfie’s hotel. The older man was one of the few he would make allowances for, and it had been so long that he would rather take a private car the half an hour into central Birmingham than make the effort to convince him to come to small heath and listen to him complain the whole time.

“Thomas” his booming London accent turned the heads that weren’t already staring at Tommy, and he couldn’t help the bemused smile which washed over his features as he shook his hand and settled to drink his whiskey.

“Alfie, it’s been a while,” he speaks, sipping at his glass knowing full well which comment is coming next.

“Yeah well you don’t get to London as much these days,” He catches the bartender's attention, a woman who eyes up Tommy when she comes over to take his order, her eyes only leaving his friend to make Alfie’s drink.

“You could always come here,” Tommy suggests, causing Alfie to snort. His disdain for the northern city clear in both his response and his body language.

“Mate, the only reason I’m in this shit city is cause of that fucking meeting, couldn’t get me here any other way,” he comments, Tommy giving him a hint of a smile behind his glass which only widens as he watches his friend attempt to hide a selfie of all things which had made its way to his lock screen.

“So, how’s the family then?” Alfie asks.

“Arthur got married,” Tommy tries and fails to keep his distaste for Linda from his voice, and Alfie smirks as he relishes in the hate which is so evident to someone who is also quick to anger.

“And I wasn’t invited? What’s she like?” He quips

“She’s good for Arthur,” is all Tommy says, the comments he could make about his brother’s new wife unsavoury at best.

It’s then that Alfie’s phone buzzes once again, and with a second glance at his lock screen Tommy can’t keep his comments to himself any longer.

“Who’s that then aye?” Tommy says, inclining his head towards Alfie’s phone. “Got yourself a girlfriend, have you?”

“Yeah mate, I have. She’s fucking brilliant she is,” Alfie says, rolling his eyes at the smirk that crosses his friend’s lips.

“You’re going soft Solomons.”

“Fuck off,” Alfie says, the smile which splits his face something that was a rarity, and the bashfulness something Tommy had never seen in him before. “She wrote that piece on me for The City Scoop.”

“I wondered why that interview was so flattering, fucked your interviewer did you?”

“Took her out to dinner first mate,” he says with a grin, making Tommy shake his head. “I’m telling you, it’s fucking nice having someone around who wil-“

“Suck your cock?”

“She is good at that mate. Nah I’m telling you, it’s nice having a woman around to keep me company,” he says, and Tommy rolls his eyes.

“Fuck, you have gone soft,” Tommy mutters, shaking his head.

“Maybe so. It ain’t that bad though. Maybe it’s time you find yourself a girl, might be good for you.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, downing the rest of his drink to avoid replying which only causes Alfie’s grin to spread wider his face lighting up.

“Or do you already have a girl Thomas?”

“I’ve been talking with a woman yes,” he offers, though doesn’t elaborate as he orders another drink.

“Talking aye? And where did you meet her?”

“Tinder,” Tommy mutters, fingers itching to reach into his pocket for a cigarette the no-smoking laws the only thing stopping him.

Alfie scoffs, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his beard while Tommy glares at him.

“What?”

“Fucking tinder? Can’t meet a girl the old-fashioned way, aye?”

Tommy clenches his jaw at the insinuation, choosing not to rise to the comment as his hand reaches into his pocket, fingers brushing against his cigarette case.

“Like having a magazine send a journalist to your work? That old way you mean?” He runs the cigarette along his bottom lip and glares at the bartender who moves to tell him that he can’t smoke indoors, piercing eyes daring anyone to test him.

Tommy’s phone lights up and he immediately turns it face down, “besides, easier isn’t it? Haven’t got time to be spending on women in bars or journalists I need to write a good profile about me because I punched someone without thinking.”

The smirk on Tommy’s face tells Alfie that he’s joking, but the bearded man takes a sip of his beer without a hint of amusement washing over his features.

“Never knew Tommy Shelby to be so desperate that he’d turn to fucking Tinder.“ Tommy scowls and takes a long drag on his cigarette

“And I never knew Alfie Solomons to be so soft that he’d have his girl as the fucking wallpaper on his phone.”

Alfie shakes his head, hours flying before he finished what could have been his third or sixth drink, his hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder as he stood.

“I’ll be off now then,” he says, before leaning in to speak directly in Tommy’s ear. “And by the way mate, I was thinking before I punched Sabini.”

Patting Tommy’s shoulder, he makes his way out of the pub turning back to look at his friend.

“Nice seeing you mate, give me a call next time you’re in London.”

What Tommy has failed to tell his friend was that if things went well, he saw himself spending a lot more time in the capital. He suspected his friend might have something to say about his admission that he would want to spend more time away from his hometown, and he had won the battle of who was more whipped. At least for now.

#tinder tommy #tommy shelby au #modern peaky blinders au #its been a long while lads im sorry

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imaginesbymk · 4 years

Text

“Someone New.”

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: MK loves Luca unconditionally, but she has doubts whenever she thinks about how he makes a living, and she wonders if he ever loved her at all to begin with.

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Adult!Me (MK)

Tags: swearing & my really bad italian translations + my bad attempts of writing angst (inspo; this drabble)

A/N: this plot is so cheesy, and i know i don’t write au/personal imagines, but this is just a lil something i put together as a celebration for reaching 500 followers!!! one shots are not open!

read my luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby fic Pink + White here.

THE cigarette butt was put out in the ashtray when MK occupied the study room. Luca promised her a fancy dinner date at one of the finest restaurants in New York City, but he was late. In fact, he wasn’t even home. He wasn’t dead for sure. He was smart enough to dodge that fate. Instead he was out somewhere in the busy streets, probably attending a meeting with a company MK does not know of, or maybe got too carried away with the attractions the city had to offer at night. Maybe it was another woman. Either way, her blood was boiling.

MK was a floater. Booze was always kept in a cabinet that opened every now and then, but she never dove into the chaotic lifestyle of partying and prohibition. She never thought in a million years she would wind up falling for a man who had an equal fair share of both, as his business dealt with importing and exporting alcohol into speakeasies, and the people who worked with him were no stranger to weapons and violence.

The theatre in New York City was packed and busy, but they met at the wrong place at the wrong time. MK snuck backstage to get a glimpse of the performers, and instead walked in on a different room. Luca was trying to negotiate a deal with the manager of the theatre, they exchanged witty comments at each other just enough to show things were about to end on, quite literally, a broken leg.

Luca turned his head when he noticed at the corner of his eye that someone was watching them at the door, surprised to see a person who wasn’t looking for trouble for the first time. She looked too naive to hold a gun properly. He watched as the manager shouted at MK, asking what she was doing there since only employees and performers were allowed in the back section, and tries calling for security.

“Okay, okay! I’m going!” she backed away, not before giving Luca another glance and taking off from where she entered.

She saw him again on a different night. She had completely forgotten about their previous awkward encounter, but when she saw the familiar face taking a seat next to her at the bar, she recalled seeing the look he had when they first made eye contact.

“Apparently a lady can’t drink at the bar alone. So can a gentleman join ya?” He smirks, the bartender pours him about three fingers of gin.

She was stunned to see him nights after that. New York City was wild, and men like him took many breaths away. She slowly nodded, not using her words.

Was she sure about this? The man seemed dangerous, and more experienced in anything than she’ll ever be. Of all the women that dolled themselves up for the occasion and looked tremendously beautiful and sexy, while she simply wore what she could afford at that time, why would he give his attention to her and not them?

After shyly looking down at her glass, she dared to look back at him. He was still looking at her. The butterflies in her stomach danced as if they were listening to the song the band was playing on stage. It was those eyes.

MK gave up and headed for bed since it was already late, and the restaurant Luca had the idea of taking her to was most likely closed by now. She shuts the lamp and buried herself under the sheets, bottling her frustration by just clenching her jaw. He was home when she woke up. She found him in the study in a change of clothes, his hair was falling forward post-gel, and his raspy voice spoke in Italian with the telephone pressed against his ear.

“Sono io. Diglielo che l’affare è ancora concluso.”

MK melted every time he spoke his mother tongue, this time she couldn’t bare to hear him speak. She was still upset about last night, she didn’t wanna speak to him, yet she had so much to say. She leaves him to wake herself up with coffee without the thought of preparing a cup for him too. Minutes go by and MK sips her beverage when she hears him enter the kitchen. Luca stands on the other side of the island counter, looking down at her mug.

“I’m just gonna boldly assume you didn’t make me coffee on purpose.”

“Buongiorno to you too, Luca.” She turns away so she couldn’t face him.

“MaryKate.” She felt an odd tingle in her spine. Luca almost never refers to her by her full name, not even by her other nickname, which was Kate. It was beyond weird. He walks over and cups her face. “C’mon. I’m sorry, okay? I got wrapped up with business. I was literally losing my mind because those bird brains couldn’t do simple math—”

MK was about as half ready to smash the half filled coffee mug on the floor. “My God, Luca. Business this, business that. It was your night off for the whole fucking week. You couldn’t make Matteo take over?”

Luca swore under his breath and walked back to his study.

“Where are you going?” she asks sternly.

“Back to work.” You gotta be fucking kidding me. MK watched him disappear back into the study room, and she let out a groan. The caffeine entering her bloodstreams increased her pounding heartbeat, but she quickly calmed herself when she followed him inside.

“Can I come with you to your next meeting?”

“Do you wanna meet Santa Claus too?” Luca said dryly.

“I’ve only been to one meeting. I can’t imagine the rush of power unless I’m there to feel it, and you won’t let me.”

“Yeah, damn fucking straight I won’t let you,” Luca cleared his throat. “That last meeting, those people tried to make you feel uncomfortable.” He looked up from his work from the desk and stared at MK. “I won’t let you see what’s really behind closed doors.”

But the few nights after took a whole different turn. MK wouldn’t listen, and managed to unlock Luca’s cabinet filled with his weapons, and picked out the one she thinks she was capable of using. She didn’t enjoy stealing, but proving to Luca she could be just like him and still be with him would bring them closer was on her mind. It ended with her sneaking up on the group of men Luca and his men were speaking to, and she pointed her gun at the presumable leader.

Luca’s eyes filled with dread as he froze in his spot, immediately recognizing her. Matteo grabbed the gun from MK, cursing in Italian how stupid she was and why she followed them. They were lucky the men backed down when they realized it wasn’t a good time just yet, but the worst wasn’t over.

Luca and MK’s shouts echoed their entire manor that it was enough for the neighbors to hear them.

“I can’t trust you anymore!” Luca shouted. “You realized what you could of done?! Putting yourself in danger like that?!”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“I don’t need your fucking protection!” he slams the table. “I didn’t need you to follow me, all right?” he began cursing in Italian, something MK was never able to fully understand his language one hundred percent. He held her by the shoulders. “If you ever do that shit again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Luca?” she pushes him. “Leave me? You’ve been pushing me aside, you forget our date nights, I end up sleeping in our bed alone, wondering if your body is laying dead on the ground! Do you have any idea how much that scares me? I get how insane it is being in the mafia, but if you can’t spare one night with me, then why am I here?”

“Y’know what, maybe you’re right. Why the fuck are you here?” MK looked at him with an icy shock. Instead of processing what he had just said, Luca turned to head back to his office. “When you gain back your fucking senses, let me know.” And he slams the door.

None of them spoke all day, too caught up in their anger to check up on each other. Luca occupied himself alone while MK wandered around the house, avoiding the corridor to his study. She checked his schedule, he had somewhere to be the following evening, no surprise.

She stayed in the kitchen until she heard Luca’s footsteps descend from the stairs and out the front door. As soon as she heard his car drive off and having the house to herself once again, MK slides down the wall of the hallway and finally broke down into tears.

Once she calmed down, she walked up to their shared master bedroom, and packed everything she could carry in her suitcase. The last thing Luca said to her caused an aching pain in her chest.

She could just walk out if she couldn’t take it, Luca could find another woman to sleep with without any issue. She wouldn’t be surprised if someone new entered his life a week after. It would hurt like hell, but it was the sad reality of it all.

MK walked out. No goodbyes. No telephone calls, no handwritten note, just an empty house.

HER old home was now owned by a friend of hers, and it contrasted the luxurious, spotless abode Luca let her stay in uptown. The taxi drive was quite long and she was exhausted, so she collapsed in the small bed, sleeping in the dress Luca had always loved seeing her wear.

He spoiled her with riches and shared his aesthetic with hers, making sure she had her spot with fashion and art. In MK’s old home, it was decrepit. No one paid a visit because they hated the design, and no one saw her for who she really was, but Luca was different. He wanted her, and he got her.

Days go by and MK still had the aching heartbreak in her chest as she entered downtown New York City at night to see a show in the grand theatre. She had to admit, she was bummed out when she saw how many people brought their lovers or husbands and wives to the show, and it seemed like she was the only one without either. She was alone.

MK picks up her pace and rushed inside to take her assigned seat and sighed in relief, staring at the red curtain on stage ready to come up and showcase the night, hoping to distract her from her inexplicable grieving.

The empty seat next to her was then taken, filling in the space between her and the next guest after. MK took in how the man’s fragrance was enriched and strong, and she could see the giant rings on his finger nearly covered some of the tattoos inked on his skin, including the crown tattoo on his hand, or the one on his neck which was a cross. His hat rested well on his lap and he hooked one leg on the other. His suit was clean as usual, and the cuffs on his wrist enclosed with the golden pressed buttons.

No. Her heart raced as she turned to see his face. She was met with those eyes.

One thing she forgot to remember was the fact that Luca loved theatre, this was the theatre he usually goes to, and this was where they met. Of course he wouldn’t miss a show. He kept staring straight ahead as the loud cheers and applause erupted when the curtains rose.

MK could barely pay attention to the performance. The tension rising between Luca’s presence and hers pressed together so tightly. He did this on purpose, MK thought. Fucking bastard!

Unless the last two empty seats were meant for them so coincidentally, as both of them bought solo tickets and wounded up next to each other. But this was insane. Luca was entitled enough to watch the shows up on the balcony for the best seats in the house, so why pick the orchestra seats?

It didn’t matter how, she never felt so uncomfortable in her entire life and couldn’t stifle her panic.

Luca broke the ice, quietly talking over the music that transitioned to a slow chorus. “I made the owner arrange a seating. It was meant for another couple, but they never showed up.” He tries reaching for her hand when he noticed her tensing up. “MK, amore. calm down.” He looked at her with worry. “All right. I think we need to talk.”

MK broke out in an exhaled cry and got up. “Fuck this.” She carefully goes passed the seated guests before heading out the exit, running out of the theatre in tears until she could no longer breathe.

Luca chased after her onto the streets, pushing past people along the way. “MK, c’mon! Please don’t go.”

MK stopped and covers her face in her hands. “Don’t talk to me with that intimidating mafia shit, then!” Speak like a fucking human being, Luca!”

“Fine,” Luca pulled her from behind and held her. “I’m sorry.” He kisses her shoulder up to her neck. “I need you. It doesn’t feel right not having you here, MK.”

“You have far more important things than someone like me,” she says. “And you agree with that.” MK shivers, feeling the night cold and she hugs herself with her thin layered trenchcoat.

“You had nothin’ else to wear but that?” Luca’s eyes loomed over her outfit. “That’s not for winter.” He removed his long overcoat and wraps it around her. “You’re just as important as my work, and I didn’t take that seriously. I should of paid more attention.”

“You can’t just push me aside, Luca.” She turns around to face him. “Eventually, I’ll end up finding someone new, someone who won’t treat me like a second option.”

“I’d rather die.” Luca cupped her face. “I’ll do better, you hear me? God forbid if I ever neglect you again, I would never forgive myself.”

“Luca—”

“No. It’s hard to balance love and work, but I can’t just toss you away like that. You’re all the world to me.”

MK lookes down sadly. “Luca, I just know nothing will change. We’re so different.”

Luca shook his head. “That’s not gonna stop me.”

“But why?” MK asks. “There are women out there who would gladly take my place any day, and they’re ten times more experienced.”

“Sure, that may be true. But I can’t imagine spending my life with those women, sharing my home with them, waking up next to them, holding them, possibly having a future with them.” He lifts her chin. “Because I love you.” And he leans down, kissing her softly. MK wrapped her arms around him for support. He pressed his forehead on hers, his eyes still shut.

“I love you too, Luca.” The couple pulls away. “So, are we heading back inside?”

“Actually, there’s this restaurant I’ve been dying to take you to,” he smirks as he took her hand, and they began walking off down the streets of New York City, the lights blaring up on their bright faces like they were brand new.

tag list: @ladyxblake @lotsoffandomimagines @amirahiddleston @thethyri @woahitslucyylu @myriadimagines @obsessedunicorn24 @fangirlsarah16 @your-pixels-are-showing

#luca changretta one shot #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta #peaky blinders x oc #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #celebration #character x oc #one shot #mk’s favs

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

oh, my sunlight, chapter two (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 5060

AN: Chapter two! I love this verse so, so much. Thank you for all the sweet words on the first chapter, I appreciate it endlessly. Thank you writ for betaing and being wonderful <3

“Stupid blazer, so much for being a maternity fit-”

“You good, baby?” Vanessa pops her head out from their en suite bathroom, half dressed in the pantsuit that she’s going to be wearing for the German Chancellor’s state visit.

Brooke huffs. “Can’t get these buttons to close. How am I supposed to look professional if I can’t even button my damn blazer over my belly?”

Vanessa walks over, a soft grin taking over her face before she leans down to kiss Brooke’s stomach, grabbing both sides of her blazer. She fiddles with it, tongue poking out and lets out a whoop when she gets the blazer closed. “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on keeping up the pantsuits. There’s gotta be other clothes that are more-”

“Nope. Still gotta match the rest of the agents.” Brooke doesn’t even see it as an option. She can still keep up with everyone, she’s still the agent in command and she’s not going to be sitting back unless she fully has to.

“You’re seven and a half months pregnant, B. Don’t think that I didn’t hear you grumbling about your back aching earlier.” Vanessa comes up behind her to massage out the knots in her shoulders and Brooke can’t help but sigh into the touch.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, Ness.” Brooke’s good at handling herself. She’s been trying her best throughout the pregnancy to keep up, to not let things change, despite Vanessa’s tutting about it.

Brooke knows that she’s going to have to cut down on the work soon, for Vanessa’s sake more than anything else. Her wife’s been more worried than she has, always willing to let engagements and presidential business slide for any prenatal appointments, or any moments when Brooke hasn’t been feeling the best. Not that Brooke wants Vanessa to worry too much about her.

As little as she wants to admit it, Brooke’s been enjoying the doting. It had irritated her slightly at first, Vanessa being overly worried and willing to push anything aside for her needs. It had reminded Brooke of when she had been recovering from being shot years and years ago - her natural tendency of wanting to fold in on herself and silently carry on not being possible with Vanessa at her side. But she’s learned, over time. To accept help from those who want to give it. Especially her wife.

“I’m gonna give you a full back massage tonight, regardless.” Vanessa places a kiss to Brooke’s shoulder before coming around to face her.

Brooke grins. “A massage, huh?”

“Get your dirty ass mind out of the gutter. Though that can be arranged, too.” Vanessa winks at her. “Do you need help with your pants?”

Brooke huffs. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated-”

“-Your belly is also starting to block your view of your feet, baby.” Vanessa ignores Brooke’s protests and grabs her pants, holding them out for Brooke to step into.

Brooke scoffs when Vanessa buttons her pants for her (’There, was that so hard?’), but has to admit to herself that Vanessa’s help speeds up her changing process by quite a bit.

Vanessa tugs on her own blazer as Silky barges into their bedroom. “You got approximately twenty minutes before we gotta go down to the first floor and debrief.”

“Ever heard of knocking, Silk?” Vanessa grumbles underneath her breath when Silky is followed by two baby faced interns, jotting down notes as they look around the room. “These ain’t open quarters.”

Brooke forgets, sometimes, that they’re living in the White House. That the high ceilings and ominous portraits that line the walls hold a long, detailed history. That the low hum of noise that’s always present is because their residence holds not only their living quarters, but also government offices and tours for the public.

“But I’m your best friend and also part of your staff, and the one who has to tell you that your ass is going to be late to meet the Chancellor of Germany, and that ain’t a good look for anyone.” Silky turns towards the interns, whispering something to them before they run off.

Vanessa waves a hand airily. “Angela won’t even be mad. Hell, she gave me a hug the last time that we met. We’re cool.”

Silky shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you got the nerve to call her ‘Angela’.”

Vanessa shrugs. “That’s her name, ain’t it?”

Brooke has to hold back a smile. She never gets tired of watching Vanessa. It’s refreshing, really, the way her natural charisma tends to lend itself to politics. The way she’s been able to actually accomplish things during her time in office because she can use her likeability to her advantage. It’s an art, one that Vanessa’s truly perfected.

Silky leans back against the bedframe, turning towards Brooke. “Wilson’s looking for you. Something about perimeter mumbo jumbo. Hell if I know.”

Brooke snorts. “So helpful. Thanks though, I’ll contact him.” She pulls out her work phone to call the other agent, talking through the security measures for the Chancellor’s visit.

It bothers Brooke more than she wants to admit, the fact that she can’t physically do the work anymore. Being the one on the front lines, protecting Vanessa. Brooke feels like she should be the one doing it, because how can she trust other people not to make stupid mistakes and put Vanessa in danger?

But she’s been trying. To let go, to relax. To delegate.

To prioritize the fact that she’s growing a small human. Their small human.

She still can’t believe it sometimes, that it’s actually happening.

The one line on the pregnancy test is staring back at her, taunting her, because-

It didn’t work.

Maybe she should take another one. Maybe this first one is lying. Maybe it did work this time. This is their third round of IVF, after all, shouldn’t it have worked by now?

What are they doing wrong?

What is Brooke doing wrong?

“Open up, B. What does it say?”

Vanessa’s fist banging on the door makes Brooke squeeze her eyes shut tight, because no, no, no, Vanessa’s going to be heartbroken because it’s happened again-

“Brooke.” Vanessa’s voice, again. Softer this time. “Can I come in?”

Brooke sniffles (she’s not crying, she’s not crying, when did she start crying?), reaching over from her cross legged position on the ground to unlock the door.

It didn’t work.

Again.

She’s not pregnant.

Again.

“Oh, baby.” Vanessa’s looking at Brooke and scooting onto the floor beside her and her arms are wrapping around her shoulders, squeezing her so tight and for a second the deep pressure is grounding, making everything okay, before their ugly reality rears its head again because the test is still in her hand. Staring up at her. Mocking her. Leering at her.

Brooke’s a failure.

Again.

“I’m sorry, Ness.” The words feel like lead in her mouth, because saying them makes it true - that this cycle of IVF failed. Like the last one, and the one before that. Because the injections, the supplements, the doctor’s visits were all in vain. They made no difference, in the end.

It didn’t work.

“Shhh.” Vanessa’s hand is gentle on her cheek, wiping the tear that’s threatening to fall. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Let’s make that clear.”

“But-”

“We’re doing everything right, baby, okay? It’s not your fault, it’s not my fault. It’s not either of our faults.” Vanessa’s other hand is running through her hair and a small part of Brooke wonders if she even deserves the comfort.

“But it should have happened by now, what if I’m doing something wrong, what if-”

“Brooke-”

“I can’t, I-”

“Shh.” Vanessa’s arms are around Brooke again, squeezing her tight and somehow it cuts through the fog of her thoughts, the beating of her heart that’s getting faster and faster along with the spiralling in her mind. Vanessa’s bringing Brooke back down, keeping the various pieces of her all together that are so prone to shattering from her thoughts and memories.

“We’ll try again. If you want. Or we don’t have to. But we don’t have to talk about it right now.” Vanessa’s whispers are warm in her ear, soft and reassuring and Brooke almost hates it. That Vanessa has to do this. Be the one to keep them from breaking.

Because that’s Brooke’s job.

“…And then the Secretary of Commerce’s office wants to set up a meeting about the tariffs on the lumber exports, we’ll need to do that before the bill goes in front of the legislature.” Blair’s voice squeaks as she speaks, her eyes flitting between Vanessa and the rest of her team.

“Thank you, St. Clair. Call them and set it up for late next week, maybe Friday in the a.m?” A’keria’s voice is all business as she rifles through her agenda. Vanessa’s glad that she’s got A’keria on as her Chief of Staff. Being in charge of overseeing the office’s day to day flow, she’s adept at keeping everyone in line, from the interns like Blair to Vanessa herself.

Vanessa has to admit, she’s more of a headache to A’keria than any of the interns.

A’keria dismisses the rest of the team, letting them leave the Oval Office before closing the door. “Question, while I work on your schedule. You still serious about this whole parental leave thing?”

Vanessa looks at A’keria as if she’s grown two heads. “Obviously. We’re about to have a baby. Do I look like I can focus on running a country?”

“You’re the President, Vanj. That’s your damn job description.”

“Hey, if the New Zealand Prime Minister took maternity leave when she had her kid way back when, so can I.” Vanessa shrugs, leaning back in her desk chair. “Break the glass ceiling here and all that.”

A’keria rubs at her temples. “Okay, so we’ll get the VP to step in as deputy, fine. You’ll still have to consult here and there during the leave, though, or this whole place will fall to shit.”

Vanessa waves a hand. “Everyone will survive. I’m gonna have more important things to focus on.

The thought makes her stomach do flips every single time.

A baby.

Her and Brooke are going to have a baby.

It’s now been eight months since they found out, since their world had flipped on its axis because it finally became real and now it’s happening, really happening.

Vanessa looks up at the clock. 7:35 p.m. She knows about Brooke’s tendencies to overwork herself, which normally she doesn’t want to interfere with. But the pregnancy has turned Vanessa into a mother hen, one that wants to hover around Brooke and make sure she’s safe and okay, even though she knows it’s probably annoying.

She dials Brooke’s number, waiting for it to ring.

“Hey, V.” Brooke’s voice is soft and Vanessa can almost hear the grin in it.

“Hey yourself.” Vanessa’s brow furrows at the rustling noises in the background of the call. “You still working?”

“Finishing up a meeting.”

Vanessa sighs. “Brooke-”

“I know, I know. We’re done, now.”

“Good.” Vanessa’s can hear how soft her own voice is, in relief more than anything else. “Wanna grab dinner together?”

“Just us?” Brooke’s question makes sense - they’re both used to working through meals a lot of the time, having lunchtime meetings or dinnertime conference calls with those in other timezones or others that they haven’t been able to reach during the day.

“Just us. I don’t have anything until nine, a conference call with the U.S Embassy in Japan.” Vanessa smiles. “Well, the three of us.”

“Yeah. The three of us.” Brooke’s voice is full of marvel. The fact that they’re going to have a baby is becoming more and more real as the months pass. As Brooke begins to show more and more, as every prenatal appointment passes and while confirming that their baby is healthy. But the fact that they’ll get to meet their child in a month and a half, the fact that they’ll go from being a duo to a trio-

It feels unbelievable.

Vanessa’s been through so much with Brooke. Experienced so many highs, so many lows. Experienced so much of what life has to offer, and experienced brushes with death, too.

Soon, they’re going to have a chance to add to their team.

Vanessa heads from the Oval Office over to their private wing of the White House, getting stopped along the way approximately four times to sign various papers and answer questions from harried members of staff. The answers roll off of her tongue like second nature, like she was born to do this.

At the beginning of her first term, Vanessa had felt way, way, over her head, as if she had jumped from a small pond to deep into the Atlantic ocean with no life jacket to keep her afloat. It had been a learning curve despite her many years in politics - learning how to stay on top of things, how to manage not only a bigger staff, but an entire country. The voices of her opponents on the campaign trail had begun to sink into her inner monologue, droning on about how she was too young, too inexperienced, too incapable of the job. They’d made her feel like she was faking it, like she wouldn’t be able to get through.

But Vanessa’s learned, over the years. And now, into her second term, she’s gotten more comfortable with using her natural confidence and abilities, because she knows what she’s doing.

There’s no way she could have gotten this job if she didn’t.

Brooke’s already taking out plates for the two of them when Vanessa reaches the dining room, and Vanessa has to stand on her tiptoes to kiss her, leaning over her belly.

“Baby was extra antsy during the meeting today.” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s hand and places it on her stomach, where a small bulge is protruding.

“His little feetsies!” Vanessa practically squeals when she feels it sticking out.

“Or her.” Brooke grins. “We don’t know that yet.”

“And we’re not finding out until they’re born, so may as well use any and all pronouns.” Vanessa presses a kiss to Brooke’s stomach. “Hi, baby. Been good for your mama all day?”

“Pressing on my bladder like mad.” Brooke huffs. “I had to pee practically every five minutes.”

Vanessa tries to hold back a laugh. “Not gonna lie, I’m glad that it’s you who’s carrying first.”

“Oh, just you wait.” Brooke tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to have a great time basking it when you have to go through all the pregnancy stuff.”

They grab their food from the trolley that’s been brought up from the White House kitchen. The fact that they don’t have to cook if they don’t want to would be a lot more enjoyable to Vanessa were the two of them not so incredibly busy with work. Though it’s moments like these that Vanessa appreciates not having to grocery shop or wash dishes or work away in the kitchen. She just gets to spend her downtime with Brooke.

“Wanna eat in the den?” Vanessa nudges Brooke’s side. “More comfy.”

“Yeah. My back has been killing me all day, I want to veg out a bit.” Brooke holds up a hand before Vanessa can even open her mouth in concern and say a word. “And yes, you can give me a back massage, and no, I won’t take an easy day tomorrow.”

“Brooke.” Vanessa huffs as they walk over to the den. “You shouldn’t push yourself if you’re-”

“I’m not, V.” Brooke falls down onto the couch with a sigh as she tries to get comfy, shuffling the cushions by her back. “I just want to be active for as long as possible, that’s all.”

Vanessa sticks another cushion behind Brooke for good measure. “Just take care of yourself, okay? You know yourself better than I do, but you also once accidentally cut your finger on a jar and said it was just like a papercut, and then it wouldn’t wouldn’t stop bleeding and then you needed stitches. Stitches!”

Brooke snorts at the memory. “Good times. That was funny. Still got the scar from that. The stitches didn’t even hurt.”

Vanessa’s about to huff, go off again because Brooke is too blasé about her own health sometimes and it worries her, it really does, when Brooke grabs her hand and kisses it. It’s a flimsy tactic, but never fails at making Vanessa absolutely melt.

“I know my limits, Nessa, ‘kay? I’ll be careful, you know that.”

Vanessa sighs. “I do.” It’s just that it makes her nervous, she wants Brooke to be okay, and wants the baby to be okay, and doesn’t want anything to go wrong.

She’s gotten too close to losing Brooke in the past. The sleepless nights Vanessa’s spent in a chair beside a hospital bed, fears that Brooke would never wake up.

Vanessa never wants to experience that ever again.

“Here, watch this.” Brooke puts her now empty plate on the table beside the couch, moving a hand to rub her belly. “I’ve learned exactly how to make him all mad. Discovered it today, during the meeting.”

“Mad?” Vanessa scoots closer, resting a hand on Brooke’s stomach. “And what happened to ‘we don’t know yet?’”

“I know, I know.” Brooke shrugs. “It’s fun to guess, though. Now, watch this. He reacts when I rub the side of my stomach, right here.”

Brooke presses her hand to her side, and Vanessa watches with wonder as her belly moves, their baby active and shifting around. She can’t help but reach out and put her hand beside Brooke’s, letting out a little whoop when she feels their baby kick.

“She’s so active! Or he. Or they. I love them so much already.” Vanessa can’t help the way that she’s already tearing up.

“And here I thought that I was the pregnant, hormonal one.” Brooke’s sniffling too, and Vanessa burrows herself into her side, her heart full and all of the possibilities of the world laid out in front of them.

She’d never thought in her wildest dreams that she would ever get so lucky.

Brooke’s therapist had told her not to bottle things up, stick them in the pretty boxes in her heart, never to be opened again because everything would eventually crumble. The pile of boxes. From all the bad thoughts and thorn laced memories that she didn’t want to think about.

“It’s okay to lean on your wife sometimes,” he had said, “Just like she leans on you.”

They’re in a fancy suite in Boston, because Vanessa is meeting with the state’s senator tomorrow and then has a media blitz day. But Brooke can’t sleep, even though they’re going to have to wake up at 6 a.m. so that Vanessa can look ‘media ready,’ as A’keria puts it.

Brooke tries to distract herself with the plan for tomorrow - how many cars they’re going to take, the way she’s going to distribute the agents for the myriad of events and locations. It normally calms her, soothes her; being a creature of preparedness and having the need for everything being under control. But tonight her stomach is cramping, the pain hollow in her abdomen a reminder of what they’re going through.

The cramping is normal, the doctor had told her. After implantation of the embryos.

But will a pregnancy take?

Will it work?

Or will it be like the last three cycles?

Brooke can’t help but think that maybe it has something to do with her.

She has half a mind to poke Vanessa, wake her from her slumber. Spill all the worries that are building up in her head and threatening to escape at any moment, unless they drive her insane first.

But Vanessa’s fast asleep, her mouth slightly parted as her waves frame her face and for a second she doesn’t even look like the President of the United States. She’s the woman that Brooke fell in love with in a cabin in the woods and nearly died for.

It baffles Brooke every day, the fact that Vanessa loves her. Is married to her. Despite everything, all that’s happened.

Everything that Brooke’s done in her life.

It’s not her, not anymore. But it used to be.

Brooke had murdered people in cold blood, murdered people for money. She had her own fucked up moral code that she used to guide herself in the direction of what was least societally reprehensible, but still.

Doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s extinguished lives. Ended bloodlines, shattered families. No matter if they belonged to douchebags or criminals or whomever. Brooke had still done it. Willingly.

Who is she now to even want to bring a life into this world?

The universe is probably laughing in her face right now, at her absolute audacity to even try again. They’re probably going to find out the same thing a fourth time.

Not pregnant.

It’s not like Brooke deserves to be, anyway, not after what she’s done.

In the past, Brooke had never been one to believe in karma. But the way that her and Vanessa keep trying and trying, the way that they keep seeing friends and coworkers and even people on fucking television announce that they’re pregnant feels like a huge cosmic joke. Like the universe wants to rub it in her face.

Fucked up real bad in the past? Well, she’s going to pay for it now, while bringing Vanessa down with her. Sweet, amazing Vanessa, who deserves better than this. Better than Brooke and all her karmic baggage.

Brooke doesn’t want to wake her. Maybe she’ll talk to her in the morning instead.

Brooke really, really needs watermelon.

Really needs it.

Desperately needs it.

She’d had insane cravings during her second trimester, constantly on the hunt in the White House kitchens for a certain type of ice cream, or her favourite dill pickles. The cravings had died down during the recent weeks, but now they’re back with a vengeance. At nearly nine months pregnant.

Brooke has to get work done for the diplomat visits to the White House over the next few weeks, review the security plans submitted by her agents that are waiting in her email before she officially has to go on leave, but all she can think about is watermelon.

A nice slice of watermelon. The kind that’s super sweet, super juicy, the kind that’s the best in the summer months when it’s hot outside.

She needs some watermelon.

BLH: I need your help.

VVM: What??? Ok coming to your office in 5.

BLH: No wait, just-

Vanessa’s flinging open the door before Brooke can even send her text. It’s convenient, really, that Brooke’s office is so close to the Oval Office. But Vanessa’s looking around the room wildly, looking at her for any signs of distress or pain, and Brooke suddenly feels guilty.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you hurt? In pain? Do we need to go to the hospital?” Vanessa’s hand is brushing the hair away from her face, her eyes looking her up and down.

“No.” Brooke mumbles because now she’s almost embarrassed. Almost. “I just…”

“You just what?” Vanessa’s crouching beside her desk chair, eyebrows raised. “Spit it out, baby.”

“I want watermelon. I really really want some.” Brooke squeaks out the words, because one of her agents is standing in the doorway, and she’s truly never going to hear the end of the teasing if they catch any of their conversation.

“Watermelon?!” Vanessa’s voice echoes around the room and really, so much for keeping it on the down low. Brooke nearly facepalms. “I ran here in these high ass heels for watermelon?”

“Well, technically I didn’t make you run-”

“Watermelon. Watermelon?”

“In my defense, I really, really need some?” Brooke gives the most angelic smile that she can down to her wife, who’s crouched down on the floor and having a crisis.

“Watermelon.”

“Please?” Brooke pouts and she can see Vanessa’s resolve break, her features immediately melting as she stands back up to press a kiss to her lips.

“Okay, baby. I’ll head down to the kitchen and get you some watermelon.”

Brooke beams, because she really does love her wife. “Thank you.”

Sure, Brooke finds it hard to accept help sometimes. But her pregnancy brain is quite adept at overruling her rational side, something her therapist would be quite impressed with.

Brooke’s happy with the watermelon when Vanessa brings her some, using her stomach like a shelf and resting her bowl on top of it as she types. Her abdomen has been bothering her all day, cramping off and on, though she’s not too worried after their last prenatal visit. Her doctor had said that such cramps were normal towards the end of pregnancy.

Brooke knows to expect it. She’s not going to be a wuss that shows up at the hospital way too early, thinking that she’s having contractions.

Nah, Brooke’s fine. She’s going to keep working. She needs to finish sending these emails, anyway.

Brooke pushes against the armrests of her desk chair to stand up once she hits send on the last email, letting out a grunt as she does. The bathroom’s been calling her name all throughout the work, the baby once again pushing on her bladder with no signs of letting up. She’s ready to waddle over, go to the bathroom for the fourth time today when she feels a slight whoosh.

Her pants are wet.

Brooke lets out a groan, because has she really peed her pants? Does being nearly nine months pregnant make women incontinent?

How embarrassing.

Brooke looks down to assess the state of her clothes, and she’s definitely got a wet spot on her pants, along with one on her chair.

She’s about to grumble and attempt to deal with the mess, except she realizes that she still feels like she needs to pee. So maybe, she hasn’t just peed her pants?

But then…

It doesn’t make sense to Brooke. Her water can’t be broken. She’s still two weeks ahead of her actual due date.

But she’s definitely feeling some sort of leakage, and she still has to pee, and her abdomen is really, really starting to hurt.

“Brooke, baby, I can’t bring you more watermelon, the Chief of Security is in my office right now-”

“Ness, I think my water broke.” Brooke whispers into the phone at her desk, because there are still agents on the other side of her door, and she doesn’t want to cause a stir, really, because maybe it’s not that big of a deal if it’s happened so early-

“WHAT?” Vanessa’s voice blares through the phone and Brooke has to pull the receiver away from her ear, because Vanessa is loud.

“I think so, at least-”

“Forget this meeting, fuck it - whoops, sorry sir - my wife is in labour, I need to go, we can reschedule this, right? A’keria! Reschedule it! Brooke’s in labour!”

Brooke can practically hear Vanessa yelling as she gets closer and closer to her own office, heaving the door open and it’s a good thing Vanessa’s here now, because fuck.

The pains are definitely contractions now.

“Do we need to go? Should I tell one of the interns to call a car? Who should drive? Should I drive?” Vanessa’s pacing in front of her desk and Brooke wants to laugh, really, except she’s having to breathe a little bit harder through the pain.

Not that the pain is that bad. She’s okay, really.

“You’re not going to drive, babe. We’re-” Brooke takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as she can feel another contraction start. “We’ll get someone to drive us.”

“Should I ask Kiki? No wait, I can’t ask Kiki, she said once that she’d failed her driving test in the past. What if she crashes now with us in the car? What if-”

“Ness. We have drivers. We have people employed here who are quite literally drivers.” Breathe, she’s going to breathe. The contraction’s ending.

Vanessa pauses. “Oh. Right. Wait, your baby bag, we haven’t packed one!” She spins on her heel, starting to pace again. “What do we do?”

“Get one of the interns to do it.” Brooke grimaces because damn, her abdomen hurts, and it’s still so early, and are they really about to have a baby?

Vanessa barks an order into her phone and comes around Brooke’s desk, pulling her close. Brooke leans her head against Vanessa’s stomach, who’s still standing and running her fingers through Brooke’s hair.

“Okay. Okay. We can do this. Stay calm.” Vanessa’s muttering under her breath and Brooke looks up at her with an amused smile.

“I am calm.” Brooke is. She’s trying to be, at least, because panicking isn’t going to help and she doesn’t want to start to spiral too early. Maybe she’s not even in labour yet and this is a false alarm.

“I was talking to myself.” Vanessa’s voice is sheepish and Brooke lets out a snort, because of course she was.

Brooke feels another wave of pain hit, stronger this time and lets out a whimper because it hurts, more so than before. Vanessa’s suddenly on the floor beside her, and Brooke can hear her talking (‘It’s okay, baby, you’re okay, you’re okay’) and tries her best to focus on her. Though the way she’s gripping the armrests of her chair is certainly going to make them break.

It feels like an eternity before the contraction passes, even though Brooke’s clock tells her that it’s only been forty five seconds.

“Hey. Hey. Kiki brought the driver. You ready?” Vanessa’s looking up at Brooke expectantly, as if she’s asked the easiest question in the world.

Ready? Are they ready for a baby? Will they be able to be parents? Will they be good parents?

Is Brooke ready to push out an entire baby?

“I am, with you.” It’s true. They can do this. Brooke’s been through so much with Vanessa, survived deadly past careers, wayward gunshots, federal campaigns. Protected her physically from the world while Vanessa kept her together on the inside.

Who’s to say they can’t do this too?

“Yeah. We’re ready.”

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #game of survival #oh my sunlight #holtzmanns

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christophe-delorne · 5 years

Text

Good Dog

Chapter 13

Pairings: Gregory x Christophe

Warnings: Swearing, they talk about torture.

AU: Adults.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, heavy enough that Christophe could feel the vibration through the very ground. It was a warning, a premonition of the storm that was to come. A fitting threat to what was to come once he finished what he was doing. Headlights framed his figure from behind, casting very little light to the open grave before him, though by no means was it empty. Green eyes peered down through slits to the current resident within the freshly dug grave, still unconscious from earlier that evening. Couldn't possibly be good for his mental health, but that really wasn't his problem. This was just part of the job, what happened afterwards was none of his concern as long as he got what he wanted.

A droplet of water splattered on the rubber surface of the mask Christophe wore. He hadn't been the one to buy it, Gregory was oh-so-gracious to provide the Frenchman with a means to hide his identity. So of fucking course it was a dog mask, the sick bastard even got the 'doberman' option as well. It was all some big fucking joke to him, but Christophe hadn't had time to order an actual decent mask in the middle of summer. It would simply have to do. At least Christophe couldn't see himself, so he could mentally block out the fact that Gregory was publicly humiliating him on the sly. At least no one would actually know or remember that he hated dogs, especially not the man slowly starting to come to within the grave.

"Wh... What?" A voice rose up from the hole, the male within reaching up to groggily rub at his eyes as if he'd been disturbed from a heavy sleep. His name, Leopold 'Butters' Stotch, secretary to MBP's CEO, Eric Cartman and so much more as Gregory and Christophe had uncovered. It was no wonder why McCormick insisted that they didn't kill Leopold on the spot, the man was in some serious deep shit and it would be easier just to kill him. It began to lightly sprinkle, the droplets of water serving to further wake Leopold up as he pushed himself into a sit. Christophe could see the expression on Leopold's face as he slowly registered he wasn't in his bed, but six feet within the earth.

Leopold looked up, his head angled upwards towards Christophe, allowing the Frenchman to get a good look at his panicked face. If it were for the scar over one eye, Christophe would've deemed him incapable of looking like some evil mastermind. However, Christophe knew better than to underestimate someone, even with their looks. Anyone was capable of violence, one simply had to set the game up correctly. Christophe turned his head, peering over his shoulder at the one other occupant to this late night excursion. Gregory was standing back, near the car they rented, an umbrella out and over his head. At this distance, he couldn't make out any details about Gregory, only a vague dark form in the light.

"He's awake." Christophe gruffed out, his voice hinting of a Russia accent. He was capable of disguising himself and he wanted to keep Leopold on the wrong path.

"Wonderful." Gregory's accent matched Christophe's, though more refined, regal, as if hinting of upper class versus the Russian laborer Christophe posed as. "Start the process."

Christophe turned his head back to Leopold, who looked like he was about to piss his pants, how someone like this became a part of the crime syndicate was beyond Christophe. Perhaps there was more too this man than met the eye. Christophe didn't have time to poke and prod, to peel away the secrets until there was nothing left. They were running on a tight schedule, meaning Christophe couldn't have any decent fun.

"Wh-Who are you people?" Leopold asked, trying to gain back some form of confidence, his fingers curling into fists. "You can't just go taking people from their beds like this! You'll regret every doing this to me!"

"I can and I have." Christophe picked up a handful of dirt that was starting to grow damp from the sprinkling, tossing it into Leopold's face. "If you continue to threaten me, I will bury you alive."

"Stop playing with your food, dog." Gregory warned from behind, drawing an annoyed rumble from Christophe. The Brit should know all about theatrics, how setting up fear and anticipation was vital if they were going to get the job done in this situation.

"This can go down two ways. Either you do as I say or I'll bury you alive. Is that understood, Mr. Stotch?" Christophe paused, head tilting. "Or should I say, Mr. Ghee?"

This seemed to get Leopold's attention, his gaze shifting away nervously. He didn't need to say anything to reveal that Christophe had hit the nail on the head. The Frenchman in the meantime, pulled out a pre-paid phone, activating the screen and with a few taps he brought up the emails Gregory had uploaded onto it.

"Yes, codename Ghee. The contact for exporting a new illegal drug to Europe. To deliver such drugs overseas without anyone catching on costs a good deal of money, something the drug cartels across the border had no interest in spending." Christophe tossed the phone to Leopold, who fumbled a bit before catching it. He took a moment to look over the files on the phone, his skin pallor turning white as a ghost as he realized Christophe had retrieved all the emails from his secondary email. "It would be a shame if those found their way into the FBI's hands. All we ask is for one simple little favor."

"What do you want? Money? In on the deal? I can get you anything, just say the word." Leopold tightened his grip on the phone, it almost looked like he was half tempted to crush it or throw it back at Christophe. Either way, the files were stored elsewhere, the ones on the phone were simply copies.

"I don't have interest in any of those things. What I want is for you to quit your job."

"What?! I can't do that! Eric will kill me!" Leopold seemed more concerned about the threat of Eric than the threat right in front of him. It was almost insulting, but then again Leopold likely didn't understand how much of a threat Christophe could be. So, Christophe had to prove a point.

Christophe reached out, snagging Leopold by the collar of his shirt and dragging him up off the ground with ease. With Christophe being crouched on the edge of the hole, he managed to come face to face with Leo, or rather face to mask. "I'll fuckin' kill you if you don't. It won't be pretty either." Christophe narrowed his gaze, glaring through the slits. Threatening Leo likely wouldn't have a strong impact. However, Christophe had a suspicion there was another way. So he dropped Leo back into the grave, causing the other male to stumble a bit but managed to stay on his feet.

"No, I don't think that would break a naive little spirit like yours. I need to dig deeper, hurt you on a level that's not physical."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was looking through your phone earlier and I couldn't help but notice you texting someone by the name of 'Kenny'. You two seem really close, I can make his disappear. Maybe that'd be too kind. I could send him back to you. Piece by piece. Keeping him alive the entire time until I take out his heart and give it to you personally." This seemed to get a proper reaction out of Leopold, fear, anger, desperation was written all across his face as he looked up at the masked Frenchman. Christophe waited, letting Leopold puzzle out his options and come down to the conclusion that Christophe would get what he wanted.

"If I do this, Eric my try to do the same thing."

"Eric doesn't know. But he could know if you upset the wrong people. Don't worry, you'll go into hiding until all of this is over."

"Until what is over?"

"Dog. Hurry up before it starts to rain." Gregory intervened, sounding a little annoyed.

"You heard the man. Time's up. Call Eric and either quit or get yourself fired." Christophe crouched again, looking like he was all too eager to tear into Leopold who was holding the phone clenched to his chest.

"Fine, asshole." Leopold gave one last glare before looking down at the phone, dialing the number to his boss. Holding it up to his ear, though sheltering it with his other hand to keep the random drops of rain from getting on it. After a moment, the other line picked up. "Hey, its me, Butters." Pause. "Yeah, I know its late but I just wanted to ca-" Seems like an interruption on the other end. "Shut the fuck up, Eric and let me speak!" Seems like Eric was getting on Leopold's nerves finally, or the stress was actually getting to him. "I'm quiting. I'm tired of dealing with your fatass. I'm leaving, deal with this shit yourself. Have a good rest of your night, bye."

Christophe felt he was getting a bit of whiplash from the fact Leopold went from angry to polite within an instant, but he couldn't let himself get caught off guard as Leopold tossed him the phone back. Chris dropped it on the ground and slammed his boot down onto it. It began to ring, likely Eric calling back to talk to Leopold, but Christophe was ruthlessly crushing it into the dirt until it finally stopped ringing. Once it did, Christophe picked it back up and put it in his pocket.

Now the sprinkling was turning into actual rain, making the dirt turn into mud, running into the hole into slow streams. "Good, thanks for the assistance." Christophe picked up his dirty shovel and made his way back to Gregory who was checking the time on his phone impatiently. Tossing the shovel in the trunk, he could hear Leopold calling out, asking for help to get him out of the hole, but both men ignored it. They had no intentions in taking Leopold back to his home, it was better just to leave him there. Gregory seemed almost tempted to do worse as he was already clenching the steering wheel when Christophe climbed into the passenger seat.

"Jealous much?" Christophe made the snide remark as he pulled off his mask, tossing it into the backseat. His gaze caught Gregory looking over at him in disgust, for good reason. Christophe was filthy from digging, covered in dirt and sweat but it couldn't be helped and it wasn't like this was Gregory's car back home. It was a temporary rental under a false name. Gregory was thorough in making sure nothing traced back to him, not wanting to risk their plan being ruined before it could be put into play. Still though, Gregory looked like he was tempted to make Christophe walk home.

"Of course, I have no intentions of sharing my pet with others." Gregory reached out, brushing his knuckles, clothed in leather gloves, over Christophe's cheek. The Frenchman let out a sound of annoyance and moved away, which seemed to be the wrong choice at the moment. Gregory snatched Christophe by his chin and jaw, the grip was bruising as Gregory forced Christophe to look at him. Defiance burned in Christophe's gaze but he knew better than to do anything more than that.

"Oh? You get to fuckin' dick around with whoever the fuck you please, but I can't?" Christophe couldn't keep his mouth shut, but he was frustrated that Gregory was allowed to be jealous but he couldn't.

"No, you can't because I said so. We are on two different levels, in case you've forgotten. I'm in charge here, the master so I make the rules. And if you haven't noticed by now, but life isn't fair darling." Gregory let go of Christophe's chin, giving him a bit of a rough pat on the cheek that was more dangerous than affectionate. "Now call McCormick, tell him where his little boyfriend is at. Can't have him dying and ruining all the plans now."

#gregstophe #good dog #south park #gregory #christophe #fanfic #the mole #ze mole #gregory of yardale #fanfiction #alternate universe #au

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xaz-fr · 6 years

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Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancer, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, basically, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Honestly though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work.

@colorfulcollectordragon-2f8ee55c @crsedore @deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @i-do-stuff-sometimes-notreally @barkingjester @journey-taken-fr @lynxstorm27 @starry-ampelope

You get to meet Tassa in this chapter. She’s uh, the best. The only person more of a Judgmental Gay than Spayar is Tassa.

3. City by the Sea

There was a messenger at the door. They were dressed in the pale blue of the messenger's guild, their tunic proudly bearing the golden insignia in the top left of his chest. It was gods’ balls early and Spayar had heard their light knocking through the window even up a story. His room wasn’t even above the door, Calli’s was, but Calli didn’t wake up for anything. So there was Spayar in barely his night clothes, half awake, at the door and this damn messenger was so chipper and awake. Spayar didn’t know them, but he hated them. “I have a message for Spayar Hillsman junior," they said.

"That's me," he said tiredly and rubbed the side of his face. Why was he alive this early? It hadn’t been fun while serving time and it wasn’t fun now.

"Royal message for you," and they reached into their satchel and pulled out a roll of paper.

Spayar groaned, “Why Von?” he grumbled. The messenger didn't move to go, "You want something?" he asked once he’d taken it.

"Tip?" he asked hopefully.

Spayar almost didn’t give him a tip, for waking him so early. But he wasn’t that much of a dick, this poor guy was just trying to make a living. "Just a tick,” he said.

"Sure," they grinned and Spayar went and found a bronze atrin that he handed to the messenger who smiled brightly, thanked Spayar for his time and left.

Spayar didn't open the message until he was back in his room and laying in bed again. He was going to look at it then go back to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and unrolled the message.

'Spayar, we're going to Peonia. Be at the Westerlance outside the Mire by the eighth bell. No belly aching. I'll buy you a pretty boy when we get there. V'

“Densinn’s tongue…” Spayar got out of bed to look out the window to the big clock tower, the Taldradin, in the Bellringer district that most of the city used to tell their time. It was half past the seventh bell. "Damn that man!" he yelled and rapidly got dressed, splashing his face with some cold water and started to rapidly get everything together, running back and forth from the bathroom and trying not to be too loud.

"Spayar, everything all right?" his mother poked her head out of her room from down the hall as Spayar left his own, fully dressed, his saddle bags already packed and over his shoulder.

"The prince is going to Peonia and dragging me along. I'll be back in a few weeks I'm sure," he didn't sound happy about it. Relora frowned, she'd been expecting more than a week with her son. But when a crown prince was your best friend you did what he said.

"Have fun," she said as he came even with her bedroom door just next to the stairs.

“I’ll try,” he groaned and went down the stairs. He walked across the house to the front door and left through the side yard to where his horse was waiting for him. She didn’t look happy to see him when he opened the stable door and started to put her tack on.

“I know. I know, girl,” he said patting her neck, she just gave a snort and shook her head a bit. “It’s Von okay? Blame him,” and she snorted as if to say, yes, of course she would blame Von for this. He finished saddling her quickly and he started down the street on her back he looked at the Taldradin. As he did the bells started to ring across the city, the eighth bell. He cursed under his breath the entire way down river after kicking her into a swift canter. He didn’t even have a chance to really take in the Mire and the destruction that had befallen it by the spring and early summer flooding.

Von was waiting for him on the road which was starting to get busy leaning forward on his horse, a big, long haired, roan stallion. "There you are, what took you?" Von asked once he saw Spayar.

"Well maybe if you weren't so stupid as to give me half a bell of notice I would have gotten here sooner," Spayar snapped, still in a rotten mood from getting woken up so early. Normally he'd hold himself back from snapping at Von in public but he was tired and pissed.

Von didn't even seem to notice, or care really, "When I say the eighth bell, I mean the eighth bell, Spayar. Not half past it."

He just groaned in frustration, "Whatever, your royal pain in my ass. Are we going to Peonia or not?"

That brightened Von's mood considerably, "Yes, we are. Lets go, before my keepers realize I'm gone."

"Does anyone know you're leaving?"

"Nope," Von grinned deviously.

Spayar sighed and nudged his horse to follow Von as they turned down the Westerlance that led out of Assarus. There were four cardinal roads in the Alliance that came out of the norther capital like the spokes on a wheel. The Westerlance ran all the way from Assarus to the coast of the Shard, also called the gut, in a nearly straight line. Only the Southernlance was at all crooked and snaked it’s way down the Meltong from Assarus to Surassa and down to the Kas’ca. Spayar had never properly divined why it went all the way down to the Kas’ca but road building wasn’t really a thing taught in school or by any of his tutors. It would take them four days by the road to reach Peonia nestled against the coast.

"What are we going to do in Peonia?"

"It's just a detour," Von said, "I want to buy something there and then we're going north to Nedrag."

Spayar blinked and prodded his mare up to keep pace with Von's stallion. You didn't just go to Nedrag. For starters there wasn't anything in Nedrag. It was a tiny city set between some cliffs and had no real political or economic importance. It was a city that existed and did some trade with other ports on both sides of the sea but exported little. Nedrag was a city you didn't visit for fun or a holiday either because there was nothing there, it was a fishing city, industrial.

Well, there was one reason you went to Nedrag. Next to the city, separated by only a single wall, was the Rose Garden, an area surrounded by a black wall and buffered against cliffs. The Rose Garden was home to the Rosalia, the governing family of Nedalia, and almost more importantly than that it was the one place on Priman'osta you could go to receive proper training to become a necromancer, a priestess of the death god, Lemp.

Meaning they weren’t going to Nedrag at all.

"You're going to see the new High Priestess?" few had yet to approach her. She was older than them by almost ten years but her mother had just died less than four months ago. He knew because four months ago the priestesses who served in the Arm with him had returned to the Garden for the funeral. The Garden had been mostly sealed since then, or so the priestesses said. But you didn't say no to a crown prince when he came to visit. At least Von hoped so.

"Indeed I am," Von said chipperly. "I heard her daughter's naming day is coming up. I also want to give my personal congratulations and empathy for her mother's passing," he had a pensive look on his face for a moment. "It isn't easy to lose a parent. Right?" he looked at Spayar for agreement. The fact that Von even asked would have been odd coming from anyone else. But because it was Von, he didn’t think twice that of course Von wouldn’t care if his parents died. He was plotting to kill them.

"It isn't," Spayar said. "It isn't a social visit though is it?"

"Oh gods no," Spayar said as they entered one of the main avenues and could put their horses into a quick trot. "Like I would go to the Garden for fun," he made a face, "That's why we're going to Peonia first," he smiled and Spayar just sighed and dropped back to create a single file with the stallion. Sometimes being the best friend of a prince was more trouble than it was truly worth.

—

Compared to their real destination Peonia was an epicenter. The largest and most important port along the coast of the Shard it was one of the most powerful cities in the entire Alliance.

Trade from all across Priman'osta flowed freely through Peonia, even from the Federation. The city was decadence given form and in the wealthy districts, closest to the Keep, everything seemed gilt or rimmed in jewels. In the main avenues of the Golden Peony district, the roads were made of gleaming white stone and the shops were all clean, the bouncers that stood outside nearly every one of them were well dressed and groomed. The traffic moved in an orderly fashion in Peonia unlike in even Assarus where things could get jumbled. Here the police enforced strict traffic rules, especially in the Golden Peony. There were so many people in Peonia, from so many different countries or cities that allowing everyone to do it the way they wanted would have just resulted in chaos.

"You see one you like yet?" Spayar asked Von as they led their horses down the avenue, staying with the flow of traffic. They were looking for a place to spend a few nights before continuing north to Nedrag.

"It isn't dark out, so I can't tell," Von said and Spayar groaned. Along with being an important trade hub on the Shard Peonia was also known as the pleasure city where you could satisfy any vice and just about any sin. Most of the most popular places in Peonia were the brothels, all of them filled with beautiful men and women. It was said the province of Aldash bred even their low commoners beautiful, that there was something in the air that made the people here pretty. Spayar was sure that wasn’t true but he’d yet to meet an ugly Aldashi. Maybe they were just hidden away.

"Von, we're here for an inn, not a bang,” he reminded the prince.

"Same thing," Von flapped his hand at Spayar, "and besides I said I'd buy you a pretty boy. So don't look so glum."

Spayar rolled his eyes, "I am quite capable of finding someone myself," he said.

"I know but I'll pay for it."

"Von you idi-

"Oh, that place," Von pointed to probably the most expensive inn in the Golden Peony. It was a four story building made of soft, pale, wood and creamy stucco walls. The roof was pitched steep and the overhang extended further down than was needed, which kept with the style of Peonia. Large flower baskets hung from the ends of the eaves and the doorman was dressed immaculately with a sapphire leopard lying by his side boredly. They'd paid a wizard to enchant a sign to glow even in the daylight, the large letters announcing it as the Swan Song Inn and Brothel.

Oh, lovely.

"You just had to pick the most famous one in the city didn't you?" Spayar sighed.

The Swan Song was said to have been the first brothel in Peonia, or at least where the Peony family had come from. You couldn't get a clear story about how the Peony had risen to power, the only thing all the stories agreed on was that the first Lady Peony had led an open rebellion against the old King Gerrin with an army of whores and bodyguards during the mid thirteenth century. Gerrin had been killed and she'd installed herself in his place. This was before the country of Aldash had become part of the Alliance in the early sixteen hundreds. But like most small nations here in the south they'd been happy to submit to the Asuras when they came knocking. It was that or fight and end up consumed anyway, or worse, burned to the ground like old Ballentine. Peony had become a major house after they’d bent at knee.

"It's the Swan Song, Spayar, of course we're going to stay there," Von said and they cut across the road to the brothel. A holster came to get their horses. "You get us a room, I'll see to the horses."

"And try to keep your hands to yourself, at least until we get situated," Spayar sighed as Von went with the holster to stable their horses. Spayar walked up to the door, the leopard growled at him a little but the doorman opened the door for him with a nod. Inside the Swan Song was like what it would look like inside a jewel. A grand staircase led up to the second floor where you could rent rooms or flesh and on the first floor was a place to sit, eat, or smoke with couches where women and men lounged, some fully dressed, some half naked.

Spayar ignored them and walked up to the second floor and the reception desk, "Hello sir," the man behind the desk was probably the ugliest man in the building but was still attractive. His skin was dark, common amid those who lived along the gut, the subtropical coast of the eastern Shard, and he wore many golden earrings on his ears and two on either side of his bottom lip. "Have you seen our girls-

"Not here for girls," Spayar said.

"Oh, well we have-

Spayar just sighed, cutting him off. "I just need two rooms. We’re here for the inn, not the entertainment I’m afraid,” Spayar said, "they should have a connecting door.”

"Oh, I see," he looked down at his ledger book.

"I want the best rooms you have."

The man looked him up and down, "Are you sure, sir? Or best rooms are very expensive."

"Yes," because of course Spayar looked like he couldn't afford them, dressed as he was in his riding gear and covered in dirt.

The man sucked one of the rings on his bottom lip, "Of course," he said and made a note in his ledger. He turned around to a wall full of small cubby holes for the keys and picked out two. As he did someone came up behind them, Spayar turned to find Von, with a porter holding their bags. "Can I help you, sir?" the pierced man asked.

"I'm with him," Von pointed at Spayar, "Get our rooms?"

"Yes, I got the rooms," Spayar said.

"They're going to the royal suits," the pierced man told the porter and handed him the keys.

"Why are you so boiled?” Von said as they followed the porter up the stairs to their rooms.

"Because you picked the Swan Song to stay while we're here."

"It's a nice place," Von said.

"I'm going to have to force you away from this place. Don't forget what we're doing here."

Von waved him away, "Don't you worry Spayar, I know well why we're here."

"Then act like it," Spayar scowled at him.

"Here you are, sirs," the porter said, they were on the third floor. He unlocked the doors for them and put their bags down inside each of the rooms. Von put a silver atrin into his hand as a tip and the porter left.

Von closed his door and followed Spayar into his, "Would you just try to relax a little?" he asked.

"I'm sorry I have trouble relaxing when we're on a trip to plan treason," Spayar hissed at him. "Don't forget that's what this is Von; this is treason."

Von frowned at him, "I know what it is Spayar. But I have to," Spayar looked away from him, because he was right. Von had four siblings older than him, and three younger. His mother had given her children plenty of reasons to be wary of in the form of their siblings. It spurred Von to do everything he did, including this plot to overthrow his mother before his older siblings did. If he didn't do it before them he'd die. Von didn't want to die. Spayar didn't want him to die either. They both knew he needed to do this since only an idiot didn't see how much his two eldest siblings craved his mother's throne. Especially now that Teldin was around, making a mess of things by imposing his presence on everyone and making his younger siblings nervous. Von almost didn't even want to be Asuras; he just didn't want to die.

"If you get the Rosalia you'll have a powerful ally," Spayar said and sat in one of the chairs in the room. He wanted to wash and change his clothes but he wouldn't while Von was here.

"It's a calculated risk. I could gain her favor-

"Or piss her off while she's mourning the loss of her mother."

“I know,” Von frowned. "I also want to try for the Drake, maybe.”

"Drake and Rosalia at the same time? You are certainly ambitious," Spayar said, "what would offer Lord Jollen to work with not just you, but the Rosalia?"

"I don't know yet."

Spayar drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, "Well, you better figure it out."

"Can we try to enjoy ourselves while we're here at least?" Von asked and brushed his fingers across the top of Spayar's had. Spayar shivered and did his best to not let it show. Von smiled at him a bit as Spayar looked up at him, still moody.

Finally he sighed, "Okay."

"Excellent, now excuse me I need to wash. I saw there was a new show playing at the theater down the street. I’m sure someone would be happy to accompany me,” and he made for the door. "You find someone you like too-

"Bye Von!" Spayar yelled after him and Von laughed as he darted out of the door to his own room. Spayar groaned and rubbed his head. He was a masochist, it was the only explanation for why it was he did what he did and why he continued to torment himself. Maybe he should find someone to enjoy while he was here, some blond white boy with blue eyes would probably help. At the very least it’d be a start.

—

The streets of the Golden Peony were rather crowded as it got later. Spayar, Von, and a whore he’d bought from the Swan Song were on their way to a well known theater to watch one of the new plays showing. "So me and my friend are going to a party," Von was telling the pretty thing hanging off his arm as the three of them walked down the sidewalk.

"Really?" she asked, "Do I get to come?" she batted her eyes at him.

"I'm afraid not. I don't think your company would be welcome.”

"Nonsense, I make any party better," she claimed.

"It's for a three year old's naming day," Von said.

"Oh," she made a slight face and Spayar laughed.

"I don't think they're mother would appreciate me bringing you along," Von apologized. "But, perhaps you can help.”

"Anything," she said sweetly, holding onto Von’s arm with both hands.

"I have no idea what to get a little girl for her naming day," and the whore laughed. "Would you be able to help me with that?"

"I think I can do that, my lord," she said and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. Von, if anything, looked sort of awkward and blushed, looking away. Spayar just frowned but resisted the urge to pull her off him. Von could do what he wanted.

"You didn’t find anything interesting Spayar?" Von asked him.

"Von," Spayar said, "I know you mean well, but really knock it off," he gave his friend a look.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, Spayar couldn't remember her name, it was Jasmine, or Camellia, or Lily or some flower name like the Aldashi liked to give themselves.

"My friend is being a stick in the mud," Von said as they arrived at the theater and got in line. Normally Von would just announce himself as a Le'Acard and not only would they be seen in that moment but they'd also get the best seats in the house. But Von didn't want others, especially Aklin, to know he was here. So they waited in line. "Can't seem to enjoy himself in Peonia."

"Oh my, that's terrible," she said, "Well I have some friends who might be able to help him with that," and Spayar just gave her an unamused look. It’s take more than a whore to make him flustered.

"See Spayar," Von grinned at him.

"I doubt it," Spayar said.

"Is that a challenge?" she asked him as they moved up in the short line.

"Spayar has a very acquired taste," Von said, "he isn't so keen on the fairer sex."

Her eyes changed instantly, she almost seemed disappointed, "The best looking ones always do," she sighed.

Von paused, looked between them and then said to Spayar, "I think she just called me ugly."

Spayar laughed, "I think she did," he agreed.

"Ah, no, never," she was quick to assure Von. "It's just we don't get many of his kind around here. Dirinnans aren't the most common sort even in Peonia and I know all manner of girls who'd love to get their hands on his dark skin," and this time Spayar wasn't the only one who flushed. The tips of Von's pointed ears turned pink. "I think I could find someone you'd like though," she promised with a sweet grin.

"I think that would be an excellent idea Mari," Von said. Of course; Marigold, how had Spayar forgotten that? Right, because he didn’t care. They they were at the kiosk, "Three balcony tickets," Von said and pulled out his purse. It was five and a half silver which Von handed over without looking and was given their tickets. "Should we get something to eat while we watch the play?" he asked Mari.

"Yes," Mari said.

"Spayar," he handed Spayar his purse, which was actually rather light, he'd left most of his money back at the Swan Song, "go get us something. And try to have a good time," he winked at him and led Mari to an usher who looked at their tickets and led them away. Spayar frowned after them a moment before going to find a concession.

One day he was going to be rewarded for all this errand running and mess cleaning. It seemed like the moment he'd met Von he'd become the man's keeper. When his tutor couldn't find Von for lessons they'd go find Spayar and even if Spayar didn't know where he was he was expected to locate the prince. He'd been picking up after Von for nearly ten years, sure he also helped make the mess most of the time but that didn't mean he always enjoyed the aftermath of it. One day he wouldn't serve a prince, but the Asuras and his advisors would be the one cleaning up Von's messes, that or Von wouldn't make so many damn messes.

A pretty girl took his order at the counter, they'd bring their food once it was ready, straight to their balcony. It was a service only offered to those who had one you had to prove with your ticket. He was paying when he felt someone looking at him. He paid he looked to find who was watching him.

He stared in complete confusion. What in the world? He stepped out of line and rubbed the middle of his forehead to clear his third eye because he was sure he was seeing things. But the woman was still there and she seemed just as surprised to see him. He went over to her.

“Tassa?” he asked, unable to believe she was here. Peonia was the last place he’d ever expect to see Tassa.

“Oh, my gods,” Tassa said, her eyes wide, “I didn’t think it was you,” and she hugged him. He hugged her back tightly. He hadn’t seen Tassa since he’d gone to serve time. Spayar had only a handful of ‘old’ friends, but she was by far the one he’d had the longest. They’d both gone to the same public magic school as children in Uptown. There Spayar, completely by accident, had made friends with the daughter Peony court representative during a mandatory magic class all gifted children had to take, so they didn’t end up blowing themselves or someone else up by accident. She wasn’t much of a court flower though and preferred to act like she wasn’t even related to a governing family at all. “It feels like forever,” she said, still hugging him.

“Yeah,” Spayar said and they parted. Tassa was, to be described in a single word; magnificent. She was probably the most beautiful woman Spayar knew, if only because he’d never seen more fools trip over themselves to win her favor with large eyes, elegant eyebrows, full, pouting mouth, small nose, wide hips, narrow waist and perfectly proportioned like Anceion had taken special attention to her vessel. Her long black hair was done up in ringlets and several expensive hair clips made of jewels and gold held it back out her perfectly shaped face accented delicatly with a golden lip ring on her lower lip. Her dress was extravagant and form fitting, leaving not a single curve to the imagination, and was a scathing blue color that matched her eyes and was almost hard to look at.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still holding his arm.

“I’m here with Vondugard, we’re just… Visiting,” he said.

“I see,” she said, not believing him for even a moment.

“And what are you doing here?” Spayar asked. Tassa was a Peony, but not part of the main noble house. He knew Tassa hated Peonia and preferred Assarus where here father had raised her.

She sighed laboriously, “I’m visiting my cousin,” she admitted quietly. “He asked me to come to the opening of his new play he produced a month ago and well, I did. I’ve been here ever since.”

“You sound thrilled,” Spayar said dryly.

“He’s so incredibly boring Spayar,” she complained. “I think he’s trying to get me to marry his son,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s a Tann,” she said like that explained everything. To an Aldashi like Tassa is did as their familial hierarchy was strict. Tassa’s father was an Ito, third rank, Tann was sixth rank, the bottom of the familial pyramid. It meant Tassa and her cousin were removed from each other by blood at least three times. Not ideal but legal either way.

Spayar winced in sympathy, “Is his son at least bangable?” he asked.

“Not even,” she groused, “he hasn’t even served his time. He’s a boy. Oh, there they are,” and she forced a smile and waved over Spayar’s shoulder. Spayar turned around and saw an older man standing with a young man, waiting for her. The older man waved back. Spayar grimaced, her cousin seemed far too large for his clothes and his son hadn’t yet grown into his strangely large nose. Neither of them were ugly exactly but he could see why Tassa was upset. “Save me,” she said desperately, grabbing his arm tightly.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it?”

“Can’t I watch the play with you?” she asked, grabbing onto the front of his shirt. “Please?” she gave him her cutest pout.

“I thought we’ve been over this that I’m not at all impressed by your girlish charms,” he said dully.

“Don’t be annoying, Spay,” she said.

“Alright, you can see it with me,” he said, she smiled at him. “What about your cousin?”

“What about him?” she asked and he was about to clarify when she put her hand over his mouth and stage kissed him. A long stage kiss. He groaned in annoyance but at the very least played along, putting his arm around her waist. Then she let him go and ignored his annoyed look. “Just show me to your seats,” she said, putting her hand on his arm and lifting up the long train of her dress so the delicate fabric didn’t drag along the carpet.

“Won’t your cousin be mad?” he asked as he started to walk away.

“I’ve been here a month, he knows my patience is wearing thin. As it is I’ve already brought men home with me a few nights, and some of them came with the help of some coin. Hopefully now he’ll send me home.”

“One can only hope,” Spayar said dryly. “But was that necessary?”

“I wanted him to see I’m interested in men and not little boys,” she leaned against him a bit, “You’re the best man I know.” And he frowned a bit. That should have made him feel good about himself, but it didn’t in the slightest. It just made him feel like a jerk honestly.

They found an usher who directed them to the balcony their tickets were for. When they tried to send Tassa away she just told him who she was and he not only apologized, he bowed and said he hoped she enjoyed the play.

They climbed the stairs to the top floor and their conversation stopped when they saw someone crouched, eye against a door he realized was the balcony Von and Marigold were in. They wore the clothes of a middle class Aldashi, and didn’t look like they belonged and had no piercings on their ears other than a single one and a lip ring.

Spayar went over to them ad grabbed them by the back of the neck, making them stand. The man yelped in surprise and still holding their neck made them look at him, "What do you think you're doing?" Spayar asked with a mean smile.

"Uh..." Spayar recognized them. Not personally perhaps, but he knew who this man was.

He shook them roughly. "You tell the spymaster His Highness Vondugard is enjoying a trip uninterrupted to Peonia. If I find any of his men skulking around him while we're here I'll take their tongues like Anceion and have them kicked out of Peonia. You can tell him Hillsman told you. He’ll know I’m good for it,” he sneered. He probably wouldn’t but they didn’t need to know that. Tongue cutting was such an annoying practice, every interrogator and torturer said so. It made who they worked on useless. Especially if they were Fed or from some other country since unlike in the Alliance they didn’t tend to make sure everyone was educated enough to know how to read or write anything they weren’t supposed to.

“Y-Yes my lord!” they cried, terrified. Spayar tossed the man towards the stairs. They scrambled to their feet and nearly ran down the stairs. He saw Tassa make a subtle hand motion and whisper the words of a spell. They both heard the man lose his footing half way down the stairs and cry out as he crashed down the rest of the flight.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he told her.

“Spies and thieves don’t really get along well,” was her only excuse. “Vondugard and his flower are in there?”

Spayar just nodded and opened the door, he was surprised something more wasn’t happening with the way Marigold had been holding onto Von like he was a golden leopard. But they were just talking. From the slump of Marigold’s shoulders she looked bored and that made Spayar smile a bit. Spayar closed the door loudly and Von turned around in his seat. "There you are," Von said. Then his eyes drifted over to Tassa and they widened slightly. “Tassa,” he said, mouth open a bit.

“Your Highness,” she said and bowed, but she did it in the same way that Spayar did it where she did it to annoy him. But coming from Tassa it was far more elegant and less sarcastic.

"Food will be along in a bit," Spayar said and sat down on Von's other side.

“Who are you?” Marigold asked, practically glaring at Tassa. Spayar didn’t blame her for feeling threatened. Next to Tassa Marigold looked like a girl done up in woman’s makeup, applied too thick to hide the fact that she might not have been as pretty underneath.

“Tassa Ito-Hau-Peony, flower,” Tassa said with all the regality of her status and elegantly sat on Spayar’s other side, pulling the skirt of her dress up just so. Marigold positively wilted. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again Vondugard,” and it was like Marigold wasn’t even there. Von could only look at Tassa. Sometimes Spayar really did have to wonder about the allure women had on straight men. He never acted like this around handsome men. At least he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Indeed,” Von said and swallowed, closing his mouth but still staring openly.

“Oh, the play’s starting,” Marigold said, drawing Von’s attention away from Tassa’s perfection towards the stage below. Spayar leaned over the banister to look down before leaning back again as the first few actors came out. Spayar wasn’t really watching. He was thinking about Aklin’s man. If he was here that was bad for all of them. Aklin and thus the Asuras would know Von was here within the day, if not a few bells depending if how quickly that spy could get to a post office and if it was even still open.

Intermission happened and the food was finally brought. They got up from their chairs at the front of the balcony to eat at a small table at the back of it. As they ate Spayar leaned over to Von to speak softly, "One of Aklin's men was outside your room.”

"They were? Damn," Von muttered.

"I handled it. But it'd be a good idea if we left tonight, or early tomorrow."

Von frowned, "We just got here," he whined.

"Yes. But my threat won't outweigh Aklin's orders to keep an eye on you for very long. This one was clumsy, the next one won't be."

Von sighed, "You're right-

"As usual."

"Only some of the time," Von said. "We'll leave tomorrow. I want to at least have some time here."

"Okay," he let Von go back to his meal, "we can always come back," he added, his voice level normal now, "after the party."

"Ah! An excellent idea Spayar," Von said, "Seems you can have some fun."

"Everything all right my lord?" Marigold asked Von.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over," Von said and patted her thigh. Spayar just sighed softly.

They finished their dinner and watched the rest of the play, Spayar paying a bit more attention to it than before but was lost anyway because he’d zoned out during the first half. He could tell it was about some Aldashi legend involving a man with a bird’s head and something that looked like a strider but wasn’t fighting over the love of a woman. Or something, he was lost. He was just glad when it was finally over.

The four of them got up and left the balcony room, as they did Tassa put herself between Marigold and Von, putting her hand through Von’s arm. Spayar tried really hard not to laugh since Marigold immediately soured and Von looked beside himself.

“So what are we doing now?” Tassa asked when they left the theater. It was dark out and the street was lined and lit by alchemic lamp poles at regular intervals down either side of the sidewalk.

“We were going to buy a gift for a little girl’s naming day,” Spayar said.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Tassa said.

“You weren’t invited whore,” Mari said in the same way regular Feylon did and not the way usual Aldashi would use the word. It was the only Aldrese word Spayar knew because Tassa had gotten fed up one day while listening to people from Assarus talk about prostitutes. He’d gotten the entire etymology lesson about the Aldashi word whore, which basically just meant an entertainer, some who did perform sexual acts, some who didn’t.

Tassa turned to Marigold, a placating smile on her face. It was similar to the one Spayar had seen on Sinco’s face as he told the Puke Brigade that no, the food was perfectly fine for consumption and couldn’t possibly be tainted. In possibly the most polite tone Spayar had ever heard Tassa speak she said something to the other woman. All in Aldrese and over Spayar’s head. Marigold got very pale and then flushed brightly in humiliation. Spayar cocked his head when Marigold stormed off.

“Tassa, I paid for that,” Von complained.

“From where, the street?” Tassa asked snidely, “slut,” okay Spayar also knew that Aldrese word too. Tassa also got mad at feylon who used that word incorrectly too.

“She works at the Swan Song,” Von huffed.

“The Swan Song is a tourist trap, your Highness,” she said, “the people there are third rate at best. Now, what was this about a gift for a little girl?” and she expertly guided Von away from the theater and the conversation of his bad taste in women, Spayar following after.

“We’re going north to Nedrag for the new High Priestess’ daughter’s naming day,” Spayar supplied.

“How old is she?” Tassa asked Von. Spayar couldn’t see Von’s confused face, but he could guess.

“She’s two,” Spayar supplied, “It’s her first daughter,” he added.

“Hmmm, I think… there’s a nice little shop just down the street. They’re mostly imports from across the Sea, but affordable, and carry jewelry and little this and such. Perfect for a little girl.”

“Then lead the way,” Von said, motioning to her. Tassa led them to a large store front, and within every surface was covered in something to be sold. Glass jars, scarves, gloves, Joti incense by the stick, rings, bracelets, and necklaces all hung from walls and off stands. It all looked to be incredibly high quality and each piece of jewelry was unique and had its own peg on the wall. In the shop front, behind glass, was a piercer, sitting on a stool boredly reading a book with pages that were well cat eared at the corners.

“I don’t want anything too gaudy,” Von said, still just following Tassa, not knowing at all what to get a little girl.

“Of course not,” Tassa cooed. “Maybe a hair comb from Anokai?” she asked and they stopped in front of an array of combs that you were supposed to leave in the hair as decoration as well as use it as a comb. “One with wide teeth,” she pointed at one with a bird on it. “Though the Nedalian love their deer,” and she pointed to another one of a deer curled up in the grass.

“Hmmm,” Von unhooked his arm from Tassa and started to really look at them hard.

Spayar went to stand up next to Tassa, “What’s your game?” he asked.

“None really,” she said, “that slut he bought just bothered me. I thought you’d have better judgement of who you let close to your prince,” and Von wasn’t paying attention to them at all. He was talking with the store clerk about what sort of comb would be best for the kinky sort of hair Nedalians had.

“And?”

“Let me come? If I say I’m going to a Governor’s daughter’s naming day it’ll be a good enough excuse to get out of here without being rude. You know my father is always telling me to be less of that,” Tassa said.

“Yes,” Spayar said, “and your father, wonderful man that he is, has the backbone of a squished grape,” and that made Tassa giggle just a bit. He’d met Kenna, nice man, very quiet and unassuming. Didn’t have a confidant bone in his body either.

“Please, Spay?” she asked sweetly.

He sighed, “I’ll ask. I don’t know if you can come.”

“Excellent,” and she kissed his cheek.

He grimaced and made a gross sound that made Von turn around and look at them, “Everything all right?” Von asked.

“Tassa’s just getting her girl germs all over me,” Spayar said making a grossed out face that made Von laugh a little. Tassa did not.

#original fantasy #nanowrimo #zs

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allbeendonebefore · 7 years

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@ask-aph-acadia, @lilcutiebear, I’m making a new thread to reply to you both here p:

lilcutiebear: I took French immersion from k-12 so I’m very much in support of learning a second language and not monolingual. Personally I think there are two big factors in animosity towards French immersion in the west that have nothing to do with dislike of francophones. One is that I have seen articles complaining that it is like having a private school within the public school system (I’ve seen articles like that from basically every part of the country not just the west). More particular to the west is that many ppl here aren’t French Canadians or English Canadians and think it would make more sense to teach another language like German or Ukrainian or Chinese or Cree since more people here have those kinds of ancestry. So sometimes it feels like the east is pushing its linguistic divide onto us. I also feel like Anglophones here are different from Anglophones out east because a lot on Anglophones here are only Anglophones because their ancestors were forced to attend school in English rather than their native language. (I.e. My grandpa’s first language is Polish and even though he grew up in a community that was evenly split between poles and Ukrainians (with most kids understanding at least part of both)and his teacher was Ukrainian she wasn’t allowed to teach in any language other than English).

yes absolutely, this is another aspect of the issue that gets totally glossed over in the anglo/franco division. I don’t know about my personal family line but certainly people with my ancestry were discriminated against, forced to learn English, and also put in internment camps for their heritage and speaking Ukrainian. Canada making everything into a Catholic/Protestant or a French/English binary really does not evenly apply to the history of the West in particular but also can cause similar rifts elsewhere. Like we recognize bilingualism is good but 1. our educational systems are often garbage and 2. finding exposure to a native speaker of a target language can vary wildly, and learning French across Canada can be difficult if you are learning International French at School and Quebecois, Acadian or backwater prairie French at home. and 3. it’s always been grating that French (and English) are always prioritized over languages people already speak- we recognize Canada is a bilingual country, but there is not enough motivation or access to materials or native speakers in all locations unless you’re Really Super Determined to get a government job and can afford to move to a city with the programs. Canada is also a country of immigrants, and multilingualism should be celebrated beyond French and English.

ask-aph-acadia: For the criticism: I do remember seeing a few people draw the territories with darker skin, but since I couldn’t really see a big difference in their traits and the other provinces’ in the old art, I really had a hard time seeing if they were white or not, even though I know that First nations and Métis can have paler skin ( One of my characters is actually Métis and has pale skin, but I tried to make it easier to see with the other traits. ) I should maybe watch more of the ProCan videos though, just to make sure I don’t say things that were changed.

Lol i mean good luck, we basically do one video every three years and the projo has come to a standstill but yes Attempts Were Made

I think that if PEI didn,t exist as a province at all I wouldn’t have had that much problems with NB and NS being a couple. I remember thinking that making it this way was excluding PEI from Acadia ( I can’t really say the Maritimes for this situation, since Newfoundland doesn’t have much to do with all of that ), forgetting that it’s been a part of NS too, maybe for a smaller time, but it still happened and gets forgotten a lot in designs for Acadia. PEI was also there when NB and NS talked about becoming one colony, so again seeing them as a couple made me feel like the smaller one was being kind of forgotten. I usually see people making PEI Nova Scotia’s sister/brother, while leaving NB and NS as a couple and I’ve always wondered what made them that different from Prince Ed for other people.

Obviously I’m not a Maritimer, and I do tend to have my reading of the history shaped by what people have done in the past so I can absolutely see that there’s ambiguity in those relationships. I can’t speak for Sherry’s interpretations, I can only attempt to justify them in my own readings. I did get the sense that PEI has a very strong little sibling vibe i.e. the strong independence streak without wanting the responsibility, but I can read NS as the long suffering big brother figure for either of them. I think it’s the strong Scottish heritage that tends to tie NS and PEI together more than NS to NB, but I could be wrong.

As for Alberta and Saskatchewan, I think a lot of people see them as “sister provinces”, me included, and that’s why we usually see them as siblings, without mentionning the project of “Buffalo” ( I think that’s what it was called? Correct me if I’m wrong ).

Buffalo is correct: nowadays we tend to see each other as sister provinces but it can also depend on the reading of the history- Wilfrid Laurier dividing the provinces up can be seen as completely arbitrary with little regard for the people already living there, as an eastern imposition etc, but it rubs me the wrong way to just throw them together because they share a birthday (because I’ve got a personal Dislike of using Confederation as a literal birthday rather than a symbolic birthday and I really don’t like AB/SK portrayed as identical and interchangeable twins (even though lately our politicians have been playing that game loll a story for ANotHER Time). It’s definitely a close relationship that I tend to at least read as adoptive siblings since I’m Not a fan of literal biological relationships- they are definitely the closest out of the former Rupert’s Land territories fam.

For Poutines: I can tell you that when the cheese curds are fresh from today, it’s even better. I live in an area where the milk industry is very big and we’ve got that company called Chalifoux that makes the best cheese curds I’ve ever tasted. A lot of our restaurants use them in their poutines and it’s amazing. I know a few people that prefer shredded cheese but they obviously didn’t taste the best poutine in the region.

Another day another reason to be sad and lactose intolerant ToT and yet i regret nothing

For Alberta: I see that Quebec and Alberta have a very different version of the story. Honestly, I never saw Quebec as a province that tried to bother Alberta, we’re so concentrated on our own politics that we hardly notice what happens in the rest of the country most of the time. I think the last time I heard about Alberta in the news was during Fort Mac’s wildfires, and a lot happened since it started. But again, we’re so focused on complaining about Phillipe Couillard that we don’t even see what he does, for the most part ( Doesn’t change that he’s a shit PM to me, but that’s a story for another day. ) The only other time I’ve heard about AB in the news was for the pipeline and I can say it’s at that moment that I’ve heard the most people going against the prairies.

That’s regionalism for you, most of us tend to only focus on our own affairs until the minute someone releases some bad poll data about how much one hates the other online and then everyone goes ballistic. p: Pipelines again are a nuanced issue and while I personally am anti-pipeline i understand the reasons AB doesn’t see it that way, again we just got over a long 44 year political dynasty headed straight towards economic dependence on a single resource that our current government is trying to undo, and frankly it’s overly simplistic to just paint us as the bad guys because we’ve made some dumb decisions and backed ourselves into a corner here. We’re dumb, we get it, but don’t say it to our faces lol. Again if you are interested in this stuff I try to reblog news articles frequently on my personal blog under the yeah y yeah alberta tag (my political bias is Obvious)

The other part of the story is the federal government is built on pitting regions of Canada against each other, and right now the West is the favourite scapegoat. Former PM Harper did not help our image at all in the 2000s-2010s and I take IMMENSE satisfaction knowing that he’s now got to answer to a Muslim mayor and a New Democrat premier, you have no idea. But it’s fear mongering like that where ohhh the west is all about oiiillll and then ignoring the history of Eastern Canada literally just taking it from us and the federal government making it our current major export etc etc is really hypocritical at best (the scapegoating Alberta for the oil and saying ohhh it’s so baaad and unenvironmental and then wanting to live off the profits is something that really is an easy way to piss us off, and the federal government does it all the time.

We really saw Alberta and Saskatchewan as the big bad guys and a girl I knew started to DESPISE the provinces, even though she also hated Quebec? ( She’s the one we had drama with when creating our version of the provinces, she hated Alberta so much that she wanted my character to die… That’s a lot of hatred, but that is also a story for another day. ) I think a lot of Quebeckers are not over that yet, it’s probably time for us to go complain about something else than that ahah.

This is one of those touchy subjects and it Really Pisses me Off when people like to use aph Alberta OCs as their stereotypical villain character without ever considering our perspective or history, it’s happened enough that I’ve not been seeking out ocs for my province anymore for that reason. We already get that enough in mainstream politics, and all it does is make us angrier and act even more out of spite. I’ve seen Quebec and Ontario both treated the same way, of course, but QUON is such a popular pairing that more often than not its just Oh here is Loud Obnoxious Alberta Here To Ruin Everything for Us Once Again. They’re all such good and nuanced characters that it makes me real sad to see them reduced like that. I’ve always seen the relationship as playful banter/teasing between the three of us (and really four because BC is up there with us) and I kind of feel partially responsible for my adlibbing in old IAMP episodes being taken Too Seriously.

Also hating a character is once thing, hating them to wanting them to die is beyond rude, and hating an aph oc for representing a place with real people is Beyond offensive to me, sigh...

For French: I can get why a lot of people complain about having to learn it, it’s a hard language, even for native speakers. We’re also guilty of blaming the “anglos” for making us learn English. I do see how Quebec and Ontario look like they have been working together, but we don’t see it from inside Quebec, since we complain about Ontario as much as we complain about the rest of the provinces ( Ontario is actually our biggest target, it’s easy to do, since we’re so close. ) I don’t mind people complaining about French outside of Quebec, but it’s when people do it inside the province that it bothers me. I already see so many people choosing to speak English instead of French, thus loosing what’s supposed to be their native tongue that I and a lot of other people get on the defensive when we talk about language issues, like when we don’t know what language to speak in in Montreal. Remember when I talked about Phillipe Couillard? Well, he recently asked for English people to come back in the province and I can tell you that it wasn’t welcomed as a good thing by most Quebeckers… ( I could rant about Couillard for hours but I think it’s better if I stop it there) We’re welcoming of tourists but when we hear them complain about how everything’s written in French, it’s at that moment that we get a lot more like the stereotype.I would love to visit one day, and maybe these English class will finally be useful somewhere else than on the internet ahah

(of course once again see Amy’s response above for the western perspective on this issue)

there’s a lot of common jokes that the only unifying thing about canada is everyone’s hatred of ontario and that the best thing to solve everyone’s problems would be if ontario were to separate and leave the rest of canada alone xDD but of course at the end of the day it’s still nothing personal and as much as I can’t quell the Stereotypical Albertan gut reaction to shake my fist at all things Ontarian, I am very fond of this place and have been treated exceedingly well whenever I’ve visited and I hope my good fortune will continue. But of course I understand wanting to protect French within Quebec, and I do really wish it was a more accessible language in other parts of Canada. But yeah, travel, education, all that gives me hope for the future (too bad Canada is so Damn Big or I’d be all over it already).

#hapo replies #lilcutiebear #ask-aph-acadia

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queermequeeryou · 6 years

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Chapter one: Fighter.

Augusta was having a strange day feeling a little dizzy that day when she got a call from el barrio. The truth was that she used to not be at ease for a while now but she got no clearer idea why that was happening. When she heard Diego’s voice, she automatically sat down. Diego has been a long time family friend and what was more important, her husband Manuel’s closest business partner. When she told her that Manuel had been shot, she tried to act emotional but it was hard for her to get into that mood. She decided not to go much into nervous mode because Diego knew her quite well and it was not necessary. At least not while facing him because later she will be forced to be the best drama actress. She lit a cigarette and spent a while in silence looking through the window, quite mute inside.

For days, Augusta was trying to kill time. Everybody except Diego was thinking that she was moved by Manuel’s dead like every wife ‘should be’. The truth was completely different. She was reflecting on company’s future. Funeral was a huge, tiresome event were Augusta was struggling to look great, strong and also to show that she is broken by her husband’s death. Obviously, she was not crying because even if she would have loved Manuel she would not do that. People knew her as a warrior, fighter. Strong, independent woman who happened to be married with an influential man but was able to direct him the way she wanted. Most of the time. The only exception was his company. Looking up on the burnt ashes of her man, Augusta was thinking only about how much she used to hate him for lying to her til the last breath. Was she missing him and was she wishing that he would not be shot dead? No. However sharp it would be sounding, in Augusta’s eyes Manuel was deserving that. Involving into that business was stupid and greedy at the first place. He has finally received what he was asking for. Nobody in straight senses would be starting dark affairs with some drug creators from the Mexican suburban slums. After the funeral, Augusta planned her few days of detoxication or more forwardly speaking, toxication. She invited show girls, ordered weed and lots of brandy. She smiled to herself while getting her next inhale and kissed the half naked blonde thinking that she won anyway because her secret was never revealed by Manuel. He could go fuck himself now. Almost two weeks later, she decided to finally call Diego and discuss the future of the company. He arrived very soon. Diego smelt alcohol but he was not drunk. “¿Cómo lo llevas?” he asked her how she was holding up but she bursted into ironic laugh instead of replying at once. “Oh, don’t be stupid, Diego. I wanted to speak with you about the business”. He lit a cigarette looking compulsively at it instead of meeting Augusta’s eyes. He inhaled it and observed from different angles, than got back to the conversation. “How long do you know?” he asked finally. She laughed nervously again. “How long? You are both stupid imbeciles. Five years? More? You really thought you could hold it from me forever?” Diego rubbed his forehead. “Listen, I told Manuel it’s a bad idea. You are too smart. We should’ve get you involved from the beginning but he said you have a pure heart and he respects you too much to get you into this dirty business.” “My fucking god, he said he respects me too much. Liar. I don’t believe him and you. I don’t trust you anymore”. she took a sip of her drink looking in different direction. “Augusta, that’s something else. Escúchame” Diego looked at his hands nervously because he was unsure if he should bring it up now. “I saw you once with a woman. I left, tried to forget and never told that to Manuel. He never knew because I asked him once if he thinks you’re having affairs like him and he laughed. He said that obviously, you have many younger men because he found some trunks in your closet.” He breathed heavily. “I still think I shouldn’t have lied to him. This was the only time but I couldn’t. I don’t know why. It will burn me down one day.” he focused back on his cigarette. Augusta looked at him trying to figure out why this stupid man was covering her but it impressed her somehow. “¿Quieres una bebida? she asked him if he fancied a drink and he asked for one. Then, he started to tell her the entire story about the company. The truth was being revealed finally after all those years and it made Augusta feel angry even more. Her husband has put them all in life risking danger about twenty five years ago just because he wanted to become a millionaire faster. There were now two ways to act. Diego presented to Augusta what could they do now. They could rather expose themselves to the police, get Diego and all the employees imprisoned but stop this procedure. Augusta most likely would not have to respond for Manuel’s crimes by the court because she had no idea nad it was not the hardest to prove it but she was still risking a lot. Other option was to just continue with her as a CEO. She laughed in a cold manner again. “There’s some bad shit but there’s also no coming back, let’s be honest Diego. We’re gonna die because of this one day too. Because of this bastard. I’m taking the board and the company remains intact. I’m gonna pay a visit to this puta who takes care of the production and who also happened to be fucked by my husband” she said and finished the rest of her drink in one sip. “Augusta, but... what happened? You used to love him once. Like for real.” he asked very calmly. “For what it’s worth, I loved him more than anything in the world. I’m fucking pissed because first of all, I couldn't love him the way I wanted because I prefer sleeping with women and also after I found out this motherfucker is so desperate on money and position. When I met him first he once normal, hard-working, ambitious, educated, smart, loving man. When he saw some money on his accounts, he’s gone completely crazy. It was a toxic love. I hated him probably even more than I loved him”. “He was a motherfucker indeed.” replied Diego. “He was a fucking stupid motherfucker.

When Augusta arrived to el barrio with her bodyguard, first feeling she got was embarrassment. She took off the keys from the ignition, looked in the mirror in her car, fixed her lipstick and told the bodyguard to wait in the car. SHe knocked on the door. It was Chela herself. She was expecting her for almost two weeks but she was kinda expecting police arrest at same strength instead. “Hola” said a cheap looking woman with a challenging facial expression. “¿Qué quieres? “Hola, puta. I’m Manuel’s wife and I want to talk about the business continuation”. “Let’s make it quick” said Chela, took a look around outside, held cigarette in her mouth and opened both sides of the door to let her in. Afterwards, she closed them and closed quite a few locks. “Vale, straightly to the facts. I’m the owner of the company now. Diego will still be the main partner. You will still be paid on same rules, you can keep my guards. Export will still work same way. Although, for a change you’re telling everything to me first, do you understand? Not to Diego or anybody else. To me. If you will break this rule, I am exposing everything. I have proofs that my husband have never put me into business. There’s gonna be no sign that I am joining now so you’ll all go to fucking prison expect me. Do you get what I'm talking about?” Chela closed her arms on the breast level why she was listening to her.“Yes, I do and I think I can agree for that”. “Perfectamente.” Augusta took a look inside but Chela stopped her. “Show me the workrooms now”. After that Chela sighed and showed Augusta the way. They went further, ladrona opened another locked doors and revealed a huge room with many tables were there was lots of fume and employers who were working like on production line. Chela stood unimpressed smoking her cigarette while Augusta was having a tour. Few minutes later, the elegant woman decided to leave this dirty, rusty place. “For the record, I am a lesbian” said Augusta, smiled sharply to Chela and left.

“Honey, you look perfect!” squeaked Coco when she finished fixing her girlfriend’s tie. “You’re going to get this job for sure. But you know, I don’t think you need it. You could do like modelling, or I don’t know. Act in a commercial. No need for that. But you know, how sexy it is that you are so ambitious. My gf is so great and smart. Yasss. She kissed her on the lips. “Be careful, babe. You’re gonna leave me red and I have to go now. The butler is waiting” said Loca and went downstairs. When she arrived at the Lagos headquarters, suddenly lots of pressure floated onto her. All the best educated (or best family status holders) in Mexico were applying there, mostly with no luck. It has made Loca thinking about the years when she was planning the future and education. Would she do anything differently if she could choose again? She was not sure. The rumour had it that it was Augusta Lourdes Lagos herself recruiting because the job had the highest standard and also after her husband’s death, the woman was leading the company on her rules so it was important for her to to this. Loca was overwhelmed by Augusta’s elegant beauty since the first moment she saw her on some of the business events for rich people but her interest was even longer because everybody, especially at Loca’s age, knew who she was. When they called her in she realised the rumour was truth. Lauren immediately loosed one button of her shirt because she felt it was getting hot. Augusta took a look into her resume and then finally, gave her a gaze. She stared for a little longer than it was necessary. “Por favor siéntese” the woman directed her to take a sit and Loca did so. The interview was about an hour. Their talk was showing that Augusta was intrigued by young woman’s story but also the truth was that she had no higher education. For their company it was a no go even if they were inviting those kind of people to the meetings as well if they were born into the so called “right families” but it was just for the commercials. Greatest company en la Ciudad de Mexico gives a chance to everybody and all that shit. They have never really hired anybody with no higher education diploma. Augusta wanted to finally say that so this woman would not have any expectations but surprisingly, she interrupted her. “Okay, I think it’s the time for me to say why I am here. I heard something that made me hard... to fall asleep at night.” Loca stood up thanking herself that she got few shots before going there because it was very risky. She approached Augusta who could not say a word to that yet and and moved her face very close to her own. The masculine perfumes Loca used in the morning were highly recognisable by Augusta. They were very attractive same like this reckless woman. “Augusta, I didn’t come here because of an interview. My parents are rich and influencing. I don’t need this job nor I have the qualifications. Let’s be honest, I came here because you’re the most seductive woman in Mexico and I want you so badly.” The elder woman closed her eyes feeling the lust growing in her. This girl was either stupid or incredibly bold but very tempting. Augusta attempted to kiss her but Loca withheld her face and touched the women’s neck instead. She moved her fingers lower to her cleavage line. Augusta started to breath heavier and then, Loca put her hand on the older women’s neck, moved it closer to her quickly and kissed with passion. They were both breathing loudly after this. “Would you come up to visit me to discuss the business tonight, then?” asked Augusta, touched Loca’s leg and moved her hand upper until she almost touched the certain place. “Without any doubts, Augusta” replied Loca and kissed her again.

#queer me queer you #queer #story #lesbians #geometria polisentimental #writer #lgbt

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just-a-record-of-things · 7 years

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April 27, 2017 – Part 2: The Wedding

So, here’s what’s been happening since my last entire.

This just continues from the last entire as I’m writing all of this after I got back to the UK: the previous one, this one and the next entire. These are the only once so far that have been written in one day.

So, after the Easter day my mum went full wedding mood. Everything she did after that was for the wedding. I didn’t know that she had been in wedding mood for a while now, she just paused for the holiday. So, from Monday till Wednesday I became the driver. I would pick up and drop of everything that my mum would need. It was a little tiring but this was a wedding, I knew I would have to work. Thursday was a pre-wedding event. This one was at our house and it was just for women. I didn’t know my mum had invited 120 people so by lunch our house was over run. People where packed, our house couldn’t handle 20 people non-the less 120, but my mum said if you cared about someone you just wanted to be around them, the space didn’t really matter. Guess she was right. We were all running around so me and my little brother didn’t have lunch till like 4. Partly it was our fault, we wanted to go out for lunch and we couldn’t do that till the work load had decreased, but as soon as it did we ran for it. We went to Sishu. An amazing burger place which was a little expensive for Addis but there is a good chance that it’s the best burger place in town so it was worth it. There I opened Pandora’s box. I started asking my little brother about school and his friends. I came to understand that 17 years old isn’t little anymore. He told me about things I wish I could forget it was traumatizing. He was no longer a kid, I knew that I just never really processed that. The more we talked the more I wanted to jump out of the car. But, I was really glad he could talk to me about this stuff, it took a little pushing now and again but he told me a lot. I could have gone another few years without knowing those things but I’m happy he trusts me enough to tell me those things.

Then without a warning it was Saturday, it was the day of the wedding. This was such a long day. We had to wake up at 4 and start our day. We ran around finishing last minute errands, I ended up having to drop from the ox meat to the hotel. Let me explain this better. See here people eat raw beef. That pretty normal but it still makes me a little queasy. But on Friday my uncle managed to get export quality beef, this meant a 500kg ox. Only thing is that so that’s its fresh they had to buy the ox and do the butchering the day of the wedding. So, at 5am on Saturday day my mums brother uncle brought the butcher and they did what they had to. I couldn’t look. But by 10 am it was time for the meat to be taken to the hotel. This task feel to me because I had the pick-up that day. Me and the butcher had to carry the meet into the car and I had to take it to the hotel. The hotel was 10 minutes away so it wasn’t too bad, yet I was still a little annoyed. I wanted nothing to do with this but it was my aunt’s wedding and I was the only one that could have done it at the time. But anyway, I let it go and delivered the meat at the hotel and came back home. As soon as I got home I got dressed ( I looked hella sexy in my 3-piece suit) and I told the people that where in house that I was the one taking them to wedding and we headed out.

The day was just getting started. As soon as I got to the hotel gate the security started making a fuss of the traditional drink I was delivering to the ceremony. I told him we should talk inside after I dropped the people in the car, they were older women and shouldn’t have to get stuck in car while we talked. He agreed. I dropped the women off and as I was parking my car my dad saw me. He wasn’t happy that the drink wasn’t already delivered and being served. As I was explaining to him what was happening one of security guards come up and said “you can’t bring that in”. First thing that came to me as he said that “you F***ed up man”. My dad doesn’t take kindly to “you can’t”. It can be anything, he hates it when people say it, especially if they don’t know what they are talking about. So as soon as he heard that my dad lost it, turned around and screamed “Really? And you are going to stop me? STOP ME.” I knew what was happening so I handed over the car keys and took a few steps back. Poor security guard didn’t know what he had done. He started to talk but I didn’t hear a word he said I was more focused on my dad jumping into the car. As soon as the guard saw this he turned to me and said “is what he doing right? This is not what supposed to happed. Let me explain to you..” I cut him off. I smirked. I wasn’t stupid, I’m not going anywhere close to my dad. I said “I’m only the driver, I don’t know anything”. This poor security guard kept digging a hole for himself, he turned around to my dad and screamed “Sir, do not move! Don’t move this car. You can’t bring this drink into this place.” I just stepped away. There was no way my dad was going to listen. He started the engine of the car, turned around and said, “Stop me and I will have you fired” and drove to the back of the hotel. I just walked away. I knew that we had already talked to the mangers about the drink. It had already been paid for and been allowed. And what’s worse was that the manger was close friend to the family. My dad has known him for years. The security guard didn’t know that, and I didn’t know how to tell him that, plus the wedding had my dad stressed so this poor guy just happened to poke the bear. Later, he saw me walking around and called me to talk me. He said the cutes dumbest thing ever, he looked straight at me as said “Just because he is wearing a suit he thinks he is better than me? I have a suit too. I’m just not wearing it. He has no respect.” I smiled and walked away. I was thinking to myself “Really? If only he knew the things I did. My dad was just annoyed. You’re lucky he wasn’t really mad” and I went on with my day.

This is when the wedding takes a left turn for me. For the first 3 hours of the wedding I oversaw the plates at the buffet. Like every close family member, I had to work to make the day pass smoothly. I had to count and make sure the catering staff don’t charge us extra for the plates by saying we used more than we had. I stood there until 450 people finished being served and verified the plate count. Then I went up to enjoy the remainder of this wedding. Or so I thought. Maybe a half an hour after I left the buffet my mums uncle gave me another task. Take the remaining meet back home and get it refrigerated. This wasn’t a hard task, people had already loaded it on the car and there were people back home to unload and refrigerator it. But I just didn’t want to leave yet, so every time he asked I would make up an excuse: ‘car keys weren’t with me’, ‘need to tell my mum something’, ’on my way out now’. Finally, he got frustrated and told my dad. Total d**k move by the way. My dad found me and told me head out, so I did. As soon as I found the car and was about to leave, my mums uncle, same guy, asked if I could drop him o, his friends and the butchers (also his drinking buddies) off at their neighborhood. I hated this. I knew that this meant I was going to miss the ending of the wedding but I couldn’t say no, my dad had asked me to do this. This made me so angry, and when I get angry and don’t have a way to let it out I get teary and start to shake. The whole ride back my face was just full of tears and me randomly cursing things out. I couldn’t believe I came here for the wedding and ended up missing it.

To make things worse 50m from my house the neighbors had blocked the road for a party and they were cleaning up. I couldn’t handle it. I just wanted to get home and let this day be over. While I was waiting for the neighbors to move the chairs and let me pass another neighbor comes up to talk to me. He is an old retired man that used to be cornel in the army. He is a very chatty neighbor and I’m sure doesn’t have couch at home because he always just standing outside his door, every time I leave the house he is there waving. Anyway, he was so drunk that night he was just talking shit. He came and told me that “I could not pass” he said to leave my car here and go. I was not in the mood for this bullshit. He kept saying things I wasn’t in the mood to hear, “what if they say they won’t move it, then what? So just leave your car here and I will get people to look after it” or “you’re just being disrespectful and you sound uneducated leave the car here and go”. This drove me insane but I couldn’t say anything, he was an old man and worse my parents neighbor. After 10 minutes of this crap, his daughter come out and took him away and apologized on his behalf. I didn’t really care for it, I wasn’t mad at him I just didn’t want to talk to him.

Finally, I got home, I was the first one in. A few minutes later my mum, dad and little brother followed. And then just like that all that pent-up anger bubbled up. I started getting teary and shaking. Told them what happened and told them I never wanted to see or hear from my mum’s uncle again. I was so furies I said if he ever asks me to do anything for him again I would hit him. Big mistake. As I said this everyone else walked in. My uncles, my aunt and bunch of other family members. They had heard enough for it to have made sense. They were not happy with me. My uncles took me to my room and talked to me for an hour. They told me how this uncle ( my mums uncle I had to drop off) was d**k, but only to the people he loves. They told me how he would never, even if his life depended on it, ask his niece and nephews (my mums cousins) for anything. They kept talking about how he spoke highly of me and my brother and that he only did this because he loved us. Not going lie at this point I wanted to say, “that’s what someone that being abused tells themselves to make themselves feel better” but I wasn’t stupid. I just smiled and nodded. I didn’t know which parts of what they were saying was true and which parts where the lie you tell someone to calm them down. It didn’t really matter. Most of what I had said was just because I was angry. I am not really going to hit a family member, non-the less a family member that is in his late 50-60’s not sure. But I did learn something about everyone that day. The family really took care of one another. The way they described him, all of them hated him. I have seen him insult and belittle them yet here they stood there arguing for him telling me to calm down and that I was wrong. The wedding was shit, but that moment opened my eyes, made me grow up of sorts.

So, after the wedding ceremony there, is two more official ceremonies left, and like whatever number more unofficial ones. I stayed for one more official one. The one on Monday, it was a dinner party, with only 150 people. And it went off without a hitch. We ate and danced and didn’t even work. The highlight of the evening was the dancing. I can’t dance our traditional dance and that’s sucks specially for this night as I couldn’t seat it out. Whenever my uncles and aunts went on me and my little brother followed. It was a sad attempt at the dance but man was it fun. I got to do the coolest thing ever (at least to me). The tradition dance is done in a big circle, but sometimes people in that big circle make smaller once and dance in them. I ended up in a smaller circle. The greatest part was that It ended up being my dad, my brother and two of my dad’s brothers, the ones that come for holidays. It felt so cool and we were all so happy, nothing else on anyone’s mind. All of us just smiling. The night went on to be awesome. Really glad I was there for this night.

Next time I will be telling you about the flight back to the UK, don’t want one post to be too long but this one defiantly is. But what can I say.

Anyways until the next entire.

#diaryday #easter2017 #wedding2017

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729renegades · 5 years

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CAN’T SEE THE WOOD FOR THE TREES

It’s so easy to think that the mastermind process is a 3 monthly jolly where you get to sit in a room with your mates and talk about woo-woo.

In the short term I can understand this, but it’s also fair to say that you get out of the process what you put into it, and the value of the experience can only be measured by one thing: your willingness to implement.

Without exception the 3 days I spend at Renegades are more exhausting than any consecutive 3 days in my own business. Again, the reason is simple: problem solving and strategising at an above the waterline level, as my good friend Steve Matthews says, requires a whole different kind of energy.

Be assured that being a member of a Renegades group does not give you answers to questions, there is no magic fix to a problem, but what you do get are perspectives from a different angle and from these you can make an informed decision to take a particular line of action.

Much of the time, because you are so engrossed in the running of your own business and have been doing things in a specific way, it’s hard to see that things could be done differently and even harder to action them.

Which is where accountabilities come in; holding yourself accountable for implementation is a rapid way to ensure growth.

I’ve been in our Renegades process now for 8 cycles and the Dragon would argue that I probably would have got shit done anyway even if I were not a member and I can’t argue with that, but as the saying goes ,you don’t know what you don’t know.

And because of Renegades I’m thinking about my business in a completely different way from how I did 2 years ago, rather than run a business to survive and earn a living, the Renegades process has challenged me to build a business that has a value and could easily be sold.

‘Arggh’ many would say, ‘that’s easy and a challenge that everyone who has a business should complete’.

True, but have YOU thought about it?

– More importantly, have you begun the steps to formalise that?

– And stepping on from there have you identified the figure that you will want to sell the business for so that you have the financial freedom you seek?

– Lastly, have you set the time frame for that cycle to be complete with a clear route to take to achieve it?

You get out of the process what you put into it, and the value of the experience can only be measured by one thing: your willingness to implement.

Well, as I write those words, I know that I have not done half of the above list as it’s a long process, but at least the process has begun. And, 18 months into the task of self-removal, this last summit had 3 big ‘Aha’ moments which I hope, when shared may give you an insight into how advice from others can impact the way you think and operate.

Keep in mind that for the last year my company has been through what for any other business my size could have been disastrous:

A 4-month factory move during which time there was zero production

4 months without landline telephone system or immediate active contact to the internet and the CRM system.

Yet during this time the Renegades team still insisted I plan for future prosperity and self-removal, even though it seemed an impossible task.

Having survived the process and the move, I’m well into the new product launch cycle and deep in the operational trenches to getting it out there.

So, what were the ‘Aha’s? I hear you asking.

Give away the tools to do the operational side of the business. Doh, it seems obvious, but my friend Mr Stace who runs a million pound roofing business said that to get out of fixing the problems day to day and to spend more time on working on his business, the only way he could actually achieve this was by giving away the tools to do the job; in the roofing business that was symbolised by the tool belt. He says that from that date he never went back on a roof to fix a staff made mistake, or to take on a job.

To a degree it’s also fair to say he did not love the physical side of roofing, so it was an easy giveaway, but in giving up the tool belt there is a clear mind shift in going from operational thinking to strategic thinking. I would need to utilise the Aha factor but what toolset would I need to give away to take a step in the right direction? More importantly, who was I going to give the tools to and in what time frame?

I’ve been personally making my ovens for the last 15 years; every single oven that I have sold during this period has been made by yours truly and, for the majority of the time by me, with the occasional help of someone to clean up after me.

Simply thinking that this is what I want to do is a challenge, verbalising that I will be removing myself from this process in a given timeframe is scary enough but then making it an ‘accountability’…. I guess you can see the impact that that could have. There is of course one difference between my good friend and me, he no longer enjoyed the process of fixing roofs, it was a job. I, on the other hand, still thoroughly enjoy what I do and do not see it as a chore; the challenge therefore is not so much giving away the tool belt but not asking for it back!

Aha 2 came from Steve Mathews who is putting together a 90 day fast forward implementation and team building program. During his time Steve talked about how he should go about launching his new business and one of his lead magnets could be a video on understanding the concepts of above the waterline thinking. Not knowing what the hell he was on about we asked him to explain. So, he did. And boy was it an Aha moment. I won’t go into that much detail here as I would very much hope that Steve shares the “where is the waterline in your business” experiment with you.

It became very clear very quickly that if I did not do what was needed in Aha 1 then I would be forever trapped in the operational manufacturing side of my business and that the business would forever be wrapped around me and therefore completely unsellable. I think Steve’s presentation crystallised the importance of giving away the tool-belt.

Aha 3 came from Dave Dean as an observation of The Great British Menu and how I could apply the concepts within that program to my business.

I know it’s a tenuous link: pizza ovens and food, but since everyone who buys my ovens wants to be able to cook better food the link is not that tenuous.

What Dave so rightly observed is that I’m not brilliant at getting other people to do the things that I do so well, don’t mean to blow my own trumpet here, but one of my greatest fears about employing staff is attention to doing the job right first time. When you, the owner of the business does a job, you don’t want it coming back. You simply do not have the time to spend on doing it again or reworking it.

This however is fundamentally different from how staff see the same problem: extra time spent on a job or a return is more work and since on the whole, they are paid for work done it’s easy to see how a % of return relates to an increase in pay.

Something I also learned about dealing with Thai exporters several years ago where at least a quarter of any consignment was defective or wrong. No problem they would say, we’ll put it right on the next consignment thus guaranteeing a next consignment.

However when it’s you doing the work, you don’t want there to be an ‘I’ll do it again’ scenario and so in my business, of the over 6000 units I have personally handmade, I’ve only ever had 3 returns: one structural failure, one because the wife did not like the handmade look that I create and one because the customer could not get the product through the door.

As far as manufacturing not getting it right first time, I have always done everything I can to ensure that it’s right first time and I guess my negligible return rate is testament to that fact.

In saying that, clearly criticising staff to achieve the same level of handmade quality is always going to be the biggest challenge. And I hate confrontation more than anything in the whole world; it’s an emotional state that leaves me depressed and exhausted. So how do I go about criticising the quality of workmanship in staff made products and get them to achieve a 10 more often than a 7or 8?

If you watch The Great British Menu you’ll know that the judging is done by a chef who is a peer and also an equal, for him to go out and say blatantly that the work was shoddy could be an insulting thing and put both chefs’ reputations into dispute. Instead therefore, the producers came up with a clever way of overcoming the problem through self-scoring led by a series of formulaic questions such as:

Are you happy with this dish?

If you had more time what would you change?

Are you happy with the balance of flavour?

Would you change the presentation?

And then lastly the clincher, what would you score this dish out of 10?

Basically, because the contestant has had to question components to score it a 10, unless absolutely perfect would be arrogant, and if the contestant admitted to obvious short falls then the self-criticism meant that a low score would not be unjustified, and everyone could save face.

The contestants then having been honest and self-deprecating could be seen as a true professional and still save face endearing themselves to the viewing public for their candour and integrity.

Finding a way to utilise this system of criticism and then appraisal in my own business is going to be a challenge, but it will also help to defuse the confrontational side of below par work which I hope will never ever creep into my business.

More importantly however is that the team I’m recruiting at the moment has not had time to develop bad habits, so adopting this strategy early will mean that it won’t be a culture shock. I’ve watched The Great British Menu for years; it’s one of my favourite programs and yet it took a mastermind, not me to see how the strategy employed in that program could be used to judge the work done by subordinates as well as peers.

These were the three most impactful Aha’s.

By doing the 3 Aha’s, I found I made no fewer than 30 references to Aha’s in my Aha Action List!

30 things that needed to be done that I had not thought of before, and probably would not have at all if I hadn’t sat in the room with my board that I can’t afford.

My fellow Renegades I salute you!

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