#(ok to be fair i was caught up in like 2021 but it's been a while so i had to start from the beginning again) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Give you what you want (Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo

Summary: You’ve been crushing hard on Javier - and Colonel Carrillo. And when they both find out about it, they can’t help but indulge you.

Word count: +11.1k

Chapter warnings: mild angst, mentions of violence, divorce talk, discussion of polyamorous relationship. OT3 SMUT, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, double penetration, alcohol, a lot of cum lol

A/N: this is a collab between me, @maharani-radha-writes and @queenofthefaceless, okay, yes this is a repost (basically the blog in which this os was posted blocked me). originally posted on april 6th 2021

ao3 // Masterlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

Carrillo slammed his face on the steering wheel of his car with a groan. He had just spent all day in court finalizing his divorce—which had been going on for months—and just as he had gotten home, he realized that he had forgotten his service pistol at the office. Something he was not allowed to bring in the courtroom.

Fuckers.

He had separation anxiety from it, so even though he had multiple spares in the house, he had one trusty weapon, and he wouldn’t be caught dead without it. He glanced at the clock, and saw that it was only eight o’clock, so it wasn’t too late for him to swing back to base and grab it. Shaking his head, he turned the ignition of his car back on and reversed out of his driveway to head back to the station.

When he got there, he used his keys to enter through the back doorway, not really wanting to have to greet the guards at the front. He was just… way too done with people that day. Although he and his by then ex-wife had separated amicably (or as amicably as it could get), the divorce had taken a huge toll on him. He and Juliana had separated about five months before, and he had spent that time sitting in lawyers’ conference rooms, arguing over this and that. He was ready to just give her everything and anything she wanted if it meant he could get that painful process over with.

Truth be told, Carrillo was lonely. He had been for a long time, even while he was still married to Juliana. They had been less of a married couple and more like roommates for the past year at least, and it was getting to them both. His job was tough and dangerous–Juliana didn’t understand a lot of it. To be fair, he kept most of it from her, but that got exhausting after a while. He longed to just...let go, and he couldn’t do that with her. And after a while, she had decided that staying married to him (and his job) was more trouble than it was worth. He couldn’t blame her, not one bit.

It didn’t matter any more. He had firmly closed that chapter of his life, and was ready to move on. He didn’t know what the future looked like for him, but the only thing that he was sure of was that Pablo Escobar would be dead. He would make sure of it–even if he died trying.

After finding his service pistol, which had been stuffed in a holster under his desk, Carrillo closed the door to his office, and proceeded to walk down the hallway to the back exit. But he stopped when he heard voices coming from the bullpen.

Odd.

He hadn’t seen anyone when he had come in. He turned slightly and strained his ears to try to see if he could discern who it was. Then he heard the distinct Southern American drawl of none other than Steve Murphy. The man had been pulling late nights in the office ever since his wife got up and left him.

“All right, kiddo, care to tell me what the fuck your problem is?”

Who–? Was “kiddo”? It certainly couldn’t be Peña. It was a Friday night, surely Peña was off….doing something (or someone) else.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem, Murph?”

Oh, it was you. The lone female agent of the DEA. Carrillo had been quite wary of you when you had joined the team about a year before. He really wasn’t sure what, if anything, you would be bringing to the table. And he thought that having two DEA agents was two too many already. But over time, you had proven to be a strong, capable, and intelligent partner, and his respect for you had grown.

Bringing you to Colombia had been a good decision, on the part of your superiors.

Now that he had identified the two people still stuck in the base, he should have been satisfied and been on his way. But something about Steve’s tone of voice kept him rooted to the spot. He really, really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, especially since he was sure that it was a conversation he was not meant to hear.

“You’re on edge. A lot more than usual,” Steve said, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Steve. Just drop it,” you grumbled.

“Oh, so there is something?” Steve snarked, “Look, I normally would back off and leave you alone, but you’ve been highly distracted lately. And it’s affecting your work. I need to know what’s up or at least confirm that you’re going to get this resolved soon because we need your head in the game.”

Now that Steve mentioned it, Carrillo had noticed that you were...not yourself. And you hadn’t been for a while. But Carrillo was too caught up in his own drama to give it much of a thought.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I’ll try not to be so scatterbrained. I’ll fix it, I promise.”

“Is this what I think it is? The thing you told Connie that I’m not supposed to know about?” Steve asked.

Carrillo knew he absolutely needed to leave. That was not a conversation he should be listening to. But he just could not help it.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Steve. I’ve told Connie a lot of things,” you chuckled, nervously.

“I mean about–” there was a pause, presumably Steve looking around to check that nobody was there, “–your feelings. For, uh, ya know, Peña?”

Oh. That was news.

“And–uh–Carrillo I think?” Steve continued.

Wait...what?

Carrillo whipped his head around so fast that he winced as his neck twinged in protest. Since when...since when did you have feelings? For him? And Peña? What was happening? Someone needed to shoot him because that could not be real.

“Must you say it aloud?” you hissed.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I don’t mean to embarrass you,” Steve apologized, “And normally I would mind my own fucking business, but this is getting out of hand. You really don’t think I notice the cows’ eyes you make at Peña when he’s not looking?”

“I don’t do that!” you denied, indignantly.

“Okay fine, maybe that’s a bit dramatic,” Steve conceded, “But the point still stands. You definitely need to get this fixed. Have you thought, oh I don’t know, telling Peña? Or even Carrillo?”

“Are you crazy?” you stammered, “Do you have any idea what that would do to my career? Not to mention that Carrillo is...fucking married?”

“Well, he’s divorced now,” Steve clarified, “And nobody has to know. It’s nobody else’s business but yours. I’m just saying, think about it ok? You deserve an outlet, just like everyone else.”

Carrillo decided that it was best to not stay and hear what you had to say to that. Instead, he hightailed it out of the base, as quickly as he could, trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to alert you and Steve to his presence. Once he was finally in the safety of his car, he put his head back onto the seat and let out a long breath, trying to figure out what he was going to do with that information. He couldn’t deny that the idea of you having feelings for him was incredibly flattering. You were a very guarded individual and quite hard to read sometimes–not so dissimilar to him. He would have never, in a million years, guessed that you would be interested in him, and that was mostly due to your closed off persona.

But to find out that you had feelings for both him and Peña? That was an interesting development. Carrillo didn’t know how to feel about that. But he can’t deny that it intrigued him...more than it should have. His mother would be completely mortified if she found out that he was entertaining this--whatever it was.

But his mother was not here. His wife was gone, and had taken the kids with her. It was just him, and his large house. And now, apparently, you and possibly Peña. Carrillo tilted his head contemplatively and started the ignition of his car.

Maybe...just maybe, there was something to this whole charade.

**Scene Break 1**

Steve was tired. Scratch that, he was exhausted. Not physically, but mentally.

Javier had been looking at you for far too long, and Steve could taste the yearning and the tension that lingered around the office when Peña looked at you. It was maddening, and Steve had no idea how Peña had managed this long without jumping you. After all, he never seemed to have a problem getting a woman’s attention and keeping it. So, why were you so different?

And the worst part of this whole circus is that you were so blissfully unaware of it. It made Steve’s mouth foam with rage.

When he told Connie over the phone, the previous night, what you had said to him and how you had confessed to being attracted to both men, she actually convinced him to talk to Javi on your behalf. Because Connie knew you, and she knew you would just shut up about it, guard it as if you were a dragon with a treasure, never say a thing, and suffer in silence until your feelings went away. And if they didn’t. Too bad. Steve hadn’t wanted to get involved. After all, you were an adult, and Javier was an adult. You should be able to sort these things out yourself. But alas, that had not happened. And if Steve didn’t do something about it, it was going to get out of hand, quickly.

So when you got up from your desk and got out of the office, Steve walked to Javier and slammed his hand on a pile of files that Javier was almost hiding behind.

“Yes, Murphy, how can I help you?” Peña drawled, trying to keep his voice as even and unaffected as possible.

“Don’t give me that innocent bullshit, Peña,” Steve growled, “I’m so sick of you.”

“What could I have possibly done now?” Javier huffed, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. He figured that if he played dumb, Steve would go away.

Alas.

“You, and her,” Steve said, emphasizing his point by jabbing his finger in the direction of the door you had just walked out of, “There’s something between the two of you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Javier decided not to answer that. Instead he just took a puff of his cigarette and stared at Steve, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious Peña, stop playing coy. This is starting to affect your working relationship, and I’m getting sick of it,” Steve grumbled, “Do something about it. Now.”

It took a few moments of silence, but Javier finally decided to concede to Steve. Truth was, Javier’s head was full of thoughts. Full of you. Truth be told, getting infatuated with you was just a matter of time.

You were just… frustratingly attractive, incredibly strong and so damn smart. A dangerous combination, you were almost perfect. And that, scared the shit out of him. It had been a long time since Javier felt like that; he didn’t like the vulnerability of it all, he didn’t like how it was way too apparent that whatever you did, for small that it was, affected him in some way. He didn’t like the fact that he wanted to be with you all the time, see you all the time, talk to you all the time. He wanted to protect you all the time even when he knew you could perfectly protect yourself. And he had been feeling like that for months.

Javier interpreted that as karma, getting so madly, deeply into you and getting absolutely nothing in return. Until Steve chimed in, nosy as ever, to speak about something that was clear as a water drop but he just kept denying from himself.

He replayed what Steve had told him while he puffed from his cigarette and for a split second, and let himself smile at the words of his partner.

Steve was right. He was aware of how much he had been missing and how affected his job seemed to be because of how much time he spent thinking about you. It was so unlike him, and it was very unprofessional. But he just couldn’t help it.

You and your strikingly beautiful being. You letting him hold you close. You, with your hands on him. You and how sweet your lips must taste. You and how your naked body must look in the dimmed lights of his bedroom. Fuck.

So he decided, after his partner all but scolded him about being too dumb to realize, that he was going to face you and just… make things happen.

Steve smiled to himself while looking down at a file when Javier stood up from his own desk and walked out of the office.

“Attaboy,” he mumbled to himself.

**Scene Break 2**

You weren’t sure what it was, but suddenly the air in that bullpen had become oppressive, and you just needed to get out. Well, frankly...you weren’t stupid. You knew what was causing you to feel this way. It was stupid Steve and his stupid way of being right all the time, how the fuck did he do that? At some point, you were going to have to tell Javier (and possibly Carrillo, as well) how you felt, but if you could put it off for longer, you were absolutely going to do so.

You sat on the concrete wall bordering the police base, observing quietly as the citizens of Medellín went about their day, getting lunch and catching up with their colleagues. There was a man selling arepas just a few feet from you, and the smell was amazing. But no matter how tantalizing the scent was, you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat. All you needed was some air. Yeah, that’s what you needed. You’d be fine after a few moments.

Unfortunately, your peace wasn’t to last long, and as you were soon to discover, your observational skills would need a check up because Colonel Horacio Carrillo himself had just plopped himself next to you, and you hadn’t even noticed. Carrillo, for his part, waited a few moments before clearing his throat, startling you from your thoughts, and successfully getting your attention.

Ah shit.

One of the exact men that you didn’t want to deal with right now was sitting right next to you.

Joy.

“Those arepas look fantastic,” he remarked in that lovely accent you really liked, “Do you want one?”

You shook your head.

“No thank you,” you mumbled, “I’m fine.”

Carrillo hummed.

“I’m sure we could find something else if you would prefer. There’s all kinds of food in Medellín,” he replied. But you refused again.

“No, really, I’m fine. I don’t want any food,” you said.

Carrillo tilted his head and clasped his hands together, leaning forward slightly. He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk, and if you didn’t know him so well, you would have missed it.

“I see,” he observed, amusedly, “So, then, Agent. What do you want?”

You frowned, and furrowed your eyebrows. What...what was he doing?

“I–I don’t want anything,” you replied, completely flabbergasted.

“Hmmm,” Carrillo began, “I don’t believe you. I think you want something.”

You raised your eyebrows at that. You’d never known the Colonel to be so bold.

“I want Escobar dead,” you quipped, “Same as you, I suppose.”

“Ah yes, I certainly want that,” Carrillo agreed, “But I want something else. Something that I imagine might be the same as you.”

You scratched the back of your neck, nervously, not sure where this was going.

“All right, Colonel, I’ll bite. What is it that you want?” you questioned.

Carrillo adjusted his position on the wall, turning so that he was facing you squarely. He looked you straight in the eyes before taking a deep breath, as if he was working up the courage to say something.

“You.”

You felt the air leave your lungs, Carrillo’s face was a puzzle laid before you but before you could say something else, you heard a deep, timbered voice calling your name.

You reluctantly turned around and saw Peña walking up to the both of you, you felt Carrillo shift beside you and let out a sigh, as if he knew something like that would happen.

“I was looking for you,” Javier mumbled, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear but you.

“So, you found me,” your voice was shaky after the Colonel’s admission, and you tried to control it “What?”

“Can we–uh–talk?” he said, and you looked back at Carrillo.

“Can it wait?” you pleaded.

“No,” Javier declared.

“I think I know what this is about,” Carrillo announced, and you frowned at him, asking with your eyes for him to elaborate. But he just stayed quiet, looking between you and Peña.

“What do you mean?” Javier huffed, “This is a private conversation that I need to have with her.”

“I think we all need to have this conversation,” Carrillo mumbled, looking at the ground for half a second before returning his gaze to you and Javier.

“What are you two on?” you asked, frantically, “I am so confused.”

Javier glanced at the Colonel, at the way he was all but shifting around like a nervous kid. He realized Carrillo moved like he was hiding something, like he had a secret he so wanted to confess.

“Do you know something?” Javier questioned him, furrowing his brow. The Colonel turned to study him and there was a small moment in which they said nothing, and their eyes just locked.

And there, Javier saw him, as he was. Colonel Horacio Carrillo was an honorable man, everyone knew that, but as he was honorable he was dark, and Javier had a small suspicion of what he knew and was badly hiding.

Javier felt himself smirk at the man and Carrillo smirked back, and Javi knew it. Because he never misses things like that. For him is like having a sixth sense, somehow enhanced by his career and his experience. He just knows. Javier had never been indifferent to men. After all, being honest with himself, he had a little crush on Steve before he saw the wedding band. And Carrillo was… just his type. He never thought he would have the chance to even get closer to the Colonel like that. In the end, the time was not right and he was quite sure Carrillo wasn’t like that.

Clearly, he had been mistaken.

“Okay you two, I’ve had enough,” you grumbled, “What is going on? I’m sick of these games.”

“This is not a game,” Carrillo said, finally looking at you, you felt your frown get deeper.

“Then what is it?” you demanded.

Javier shrugged and took one last look at Carrillo, as if to confirm his consent, and replied.

“An arrangement,” he deadpanned, “With both of us.”

“If you want it,” Carrillo added, quickly.

You shot up from the wall you were sitting on and turned to glare at both of them. Javier put his hands on his waist and leaned on a leg, and Carrillo stood up as well, clasped hands in front of him, just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

Javier glanced nervously at Carrillo from the corner of his eye, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. I hope this is gonna go how you were planning, Carrillo, he thought, Because if it doesn’t and she refuses to speak to me again after this...I swear to god–

“Where did you get this idea?” you blabbered, feeling the sting of nervousness and insecurity settling into your stomach. Along with something else in your lower belly you refused to acknowledge at all.

Javier sighed, and shook his head.

“Steve Murphy has a big mouth,” he murmured.

“Dios mío,” you exclaimed, “He told you both?”

“Well, he told me,” Javier said, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t know about our Colonel over here.”

Now it was Carrillo’s turn to look sheepish.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Carrillo admitted, “I overheard the two of you talking the other day.”

“You eavesdropped on me?” you gasped, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Is nothing I say private?”

Carrillo at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“It was an accident,” he tried to assure you, “But–I don’t regret listening in. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you.”

You scrubbed your face with your hands, trying to figure out what you were going to do. It wasn’t that you were–unhappy–more so embarrassed. You’d been carrying this secret for a long time now, and to have it so out in the open made you feel more exposed than ever. And you hated the feeling.

“I’m gonna need a minute,” you said, “Can we talk about this later? I need some space.”

Without waiting for a response, you briskly walked away from the police base and in the direction of the city. You weren’t sure where you were going or when you were going to be back. All that you knew was that your privacy had been massively violated, and you needed some space to collect yourself. Alone. And perhaps when you had calmed down, you could think about Carrillo and Peña’s proposal, like a functioning adult. But right now, you were too embarrassed (and aroused, let’s be real), to think straight.

Javier turned aside to look at Carrillo when your figure had disappeared into the city.

“So,” Javier broke the not-so-awkward silence, “Are you okay with this?”

Carrillo huffed at the question and glanced at the agent, noticing in him things he hadn't noticed before.

“Are you?”

Javier felt his stomach drop at the Colonel’s question… interesting.

“I’m all in,” he replied, smirking at Carrillo.

“Yo también.”

**Scene Break 3**

It was later in the afternoon by the time you had calmed down enough to return to work. You couldn’t believe what had happened today. You absolutely wanted to smack Steve. What you had told him was in confidence, and he had broken that trust. But you couldn’t deny that you were happy with the result. The idea of having even just one of those two men was enough to get you going, but both?

Men like them?

The pool of arousal was already forming in between your legs.

You could not deny how much you had wanted this, and how much you had been dreaming about it. And for a very long time. For god’s sake, you had lost sleep over this shit. It made you feel dirty, filthy, unprofessional. But you just couldn’t help it. You’d done a decent enough job of keeping your feelings in check, but now the cat was out of the bag.

And not only did these two men know how you felt. Apparently, they felt the same way. And for some godforsaken reason, they wanted you.

Were you really going to say no to an opportunity like that? Were you truly that stupid? No matter how much you were angry with Steve.

Connie would lose her shit when you'd call her to tell her about her husband’s work.

You walked into the bullpen and saw the office door opened, the first thing you saw was Javier’s face buried inside a file, his posture rigid and his hands grasping at the folder as if it were a lifeline.

He looked up and his eyes went wide when he saw you walk in.

But then you saw Murphy, sitting like nothing had happened and you saw red. You rushed at him and without a word your hand flew and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“What the fuck?” he yelled, and you heard Javier laughing behind you.

“You asshole,” you hissed, “Exactly what made you think it was a good idea to tell him? I trusted you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Excuse me,” Steve groaned, rubbing the back of his head, “I did you a fucking favor. I got tired of hanging around with you two idiots, just looking at each other and not saying shit.”

“You should not have done that,” you growled, fixing him with what you hoped was your most intimidating glare.

“Perhaps not,” Steve shrugged, “But I don’t regret it.”

“Can I–say something?” Javier asked behind you.

“No. Shut up.” you hissed without looking back at him.

“You do something like this again, and I’ll kill you,” you threatened Steve before storming out of the base, and into the parking lot. You sat in the driver’s seat of your car and banged your head against the steering wheel. You had had every intention of finding Peña and Carrillo and taking them up on their offer, but now all feelings of boldness had been once again replaced by shame and embarrassment. No doubt you were the talk of the police base, what with your massive crush on two of your colleagues.

Although you knew it was irrational, you couldn’t help but feel as though Carrillo and Peña were making fun of you. You knew it was stupid. Both of them were grown-ass men. They wouldn’t be so immature. If they didn’t like you at all, they would have just left you alone. But you just couldn’t help the raging insecurity you were feeling. Perhaps if you had actually told both of them, directly, how you felt, rather than let Steve Murphy do the hard work, then maybe you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

But that was all water under the bridge now, you supposed.

Later that night, you were heating up a pitiful TV-dinner in your apartment, not feeling up to eating, but you needed something, when your phone rang. You froze with the fork halfway to your mouth. There were only a handful of people who had your landline number, and even then, only a few of those people would have the guts to actually call it. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

Sighing, you trudged over to the phone and lifted the receiver to your ear.

“¿Sí?” you asked, quietly, and you heard the low voice of Colonel Carrillo on the other end.

“It’s me,” he said softly, “You left work rather abruptly. I called to see if you were fine.”

“As fine as I can be, given the circumstances,” you grumbled.

“I’m sorry that things transpired the way they did, truly,” Carrillo mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic, “But I meant it when I said I don’t regret finding out.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you snarked, “You’re not the one whose colleague breached her trust.”

There was a pause before Carrillo spoke again.

“Do you regret it?”

Now it was your turn to pause, contemplating your words and how you would respond. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, you wanted to make it clear that you weren’t pleased with the means---even if the end was fantastic.

“I regret how this started,” you replied, slowly, not trusting yourself to say anything further.

Carrillo hummed over the line, contemplating your words.

“I can’t blame you for that,” he said, “But forget about Steve for a moment, please. Have you thought about it?”

You inhaled and held your breath for ten counts, trying to calm down your racing heart. You couldn’t deny that just the mere thought of being in the same room with these two men, especially in a non-platonic setting, was difficult for you.

“I think you know the answer to that, Colonel. You aren’t stupid,” you quipped, “Have you discussed this with Peña? I must admit, I am surprised at you both. This doesn’t seem like something either of you would be interested in.”

“We’ve discussed this, absolutely,” Carrillo said, recalling the deeper conversation he had with Peña earlier that day after you had slapped Steve, “I think we’ve both surprised ourselves, if I’m being honest. But if the attraction is there, it’s there. But I want you to know, there is no pressure. This only goes as far as you want it to go.”

You frowned at that.

“What do you mean?” you pressed.

“Querida,” he sighed, “What happens between the three of us–well–Peña and I know where we stand–it’s up to you now. If you don’t want this, then just say the word. We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”

You took a shuddering breath and tried to respond as best as you can.

“I–”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Carrillo interrupted gently, “Think about it. Make sure it’s what you want. Then you can let us know.”

“I–ok,” you stuttered, for lack of a better response.

“I should leave you to your evening. But think about it, and let me know what you decide ,” Carrillo said, “Have a good night, querida.”

“Sure, good night, Colonel,” you mumbled, hearing the click on the other end, indicating that Carrillo had hung up.

You passed the rest of the evening in relative silence, going about your mundane business with an extra air of heaviness. Slowly you could feel the embarrassment from the day give way to desire. As you lay by yourself in your bed, clutching at your pillow, you couldn’t help the acute sense of loneliness that you felt. After all, you hadn’t really had anyone before you came to Colombia, and your job here certainly killed whatever chance of having a relationship you might have had. It was why you had so easily fallen for both of your colleagues.

You were lonely. And they were lonely too. But it wasn’t just out of loneliness. You’d seen what Peña was like when he just wanted to have a warm body next to him. Just as it had taken courage for you to confess how you felt to Steve, it must have taken just as much strength for Carrillo and Peña to admit the same to you. This wasn’t going to be a one time thing–born out of isolation and tragedy–it would be something much more meaningful than that. You could feel it.

You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was just past midnight. Although you knew that Carrillo usually stayed up late, you didn’t want to bother him, so you dialed the number of the only other person who you knew would be up this late.

“Hello?” Javier Peña gruffed on the other end, clearly annoyed at having been woken up.

“Javier, it’s me,” you said, by way of greeting. You heard some rustling of bedsheets, no doubt Javier was fully awake now.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern coloring his tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just–I’ve thought about your offer. Yours and Carrillo’s.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone.

“And what do you say, cariño?” he questioned, hope ringing in his voice.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Yes. I’m saying yes.”

**Scene Break 4**

You sat inside Javier’s car, silently, as he drove the two of you through the streets of Medellín towards Carrillo’s address. It was a Friday–exactly a week from when Carrillo had overheard you talking to Steve, and you were completely floored at how your life had changed that fast. You didn’t regret anything though, not one bit.

You were nervous though. Having one of these men was enough to make you swoon, but both? You weren’t sure what was going to happen. All you knew is that it would be a fantastic night. You just hoped that you could keep up.

A hand on your knee brought you back to the present, and you glanced over to see that Javier was eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

“Relax, cariño,” he ordered, “It’s just us.”

You laughed.

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about,” you said, jokingly. But Javier wasn’t having it.

“Why would that make you nervous?” he asked, turning to face you when you had stopped for a red light.

“You two are my friends and colleagues,” you stated, “I don’t–want to disappoint you. Especially since we will have to go back to work after the weekend.”

Javier shook his head and pressed down harder on the accelerator, hoping that if he got you to Carrillo’s place faster, you’d stop your fatalistic thoughts.

“None of that,” he grumbled, shutting down your line of thinking as quickly as he could, “What happens between us tonight stays between us. That’s it. No pressure or expectations. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting yourself to speak. And thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything because you and Javier finally pulled up in front of Carrillo’s house. It was a much larger property than you had expected, with a beautifully-kept lawn and a mango tree just at the front of the house. It was a stunning place to live, and the thought that Carrillo had been staying there alone, with nobody to share it with, for the past several months just left you heartbroken.

Well. That was likely about to change tonight.

“You’re still sure, cariño?” Javier asked, taking your hand in his and staring at your knuckles, “If you’ve changed your mind, I can drive you back now. No questions asked.”

You shook your head.

“I’m completely sure, Javi. Don’t worry,” you assured him, and Javier nodded.

“Bueno,” he mumbled, “Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you walked up the path to Carrillo’s front door and rang the bell. Carrillo answered almost immediately, face relaxing at the sight of you.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place,” he greeted, stepping back to allow the two of you to enter his house.

“I have some wine if you would like,” Carrillo suggested, leading you and Javier into the kitchen after the two of you had kicked off your shoes.

Carrillo walked straight to the fridge and took out what appeared to be a pretty expensive brand of wine, but neither you nor Javier said anything in regards to it. Instead, you both sat down and exchanged a series of fugitive glances at each other.

You thought you needed the wine, the bitter, strong taste of alcohol to run through your veins in order to be able to process the moment in its entirety. But suddenly, as you glared at both Javier and Carrillo, there was no need for anything else. No liquid distraction to be drunk beforehand, no ridiculous and meaningless pleasantries or comfort words. You knew those men. You trusted them with your life every day when you went out there on the streets, and you trusted them just as much now. Their mere presence was sufficient to relax you and ease the tension, although you thought they would both agree that the tension was thicker than you could’ve imagined.

“I trust you both, and I care about you both, so damn much.”

It came out of the blue; you weren’t even sure you thought about it in your mind, and yet you said it nonetheless, standing up. Both of them seemed a little surprised by your impromptu confession, but patiently waited for your continuation, if there was any to begin with.

“What I mean is… why make this harder on ourselves? Why bother with small talk and awkward conversations when we can just… do it, enjoy the night?”

Javier was the first one who smirked. And of course he would, he was probably used to a lot of those moments, or similar ones, and had almost no issue baring it all, you thought. You swore, for a brief, almost too rushed moment, that you saw Carrillo hesitate with saying something and averting his eyes from both you and Javier, but you brushed it off. Instead, he looked tall and mighty at you, as his official position required, and smiled gallantly at you.

“You are the one in charge tonight,” he told you.

Simple, yet effective.

From the moment you heard that sentence, it did something to your ego. It gave you an unexpected boost of confidence, it sparked a desire, a flame so bright and hot you wouldn’t have believed it to be true in any other situation.

You took a few steps closer to Carrillo, all the while having Javier watch the scene unfold from the kitchen entrance. He stood up when you did, out of some long-forgotten courtesy that he didn’t used to care about anymore, and he just knew where it was all headed. He recognized the look in your eyes, the longing on your face. He knew what it meant, how much it must’ve consumed you, and he felt oddly enticed and captivated by it.

Just as swiftly as the night began, Carrillo’s hands rested on your waist while he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he only brought you closer to him; his lips tasted surprisingly sweet, with just a faint tint of nicotine. Your chest was pressed against his, warm clothed skin found yours and you shivered against him. His hands gripped your waist as if saying farewell to them and he slid them up your body. You could feel Peña’s eyes fixed in your bodies, staring at the scene, and when the Colonel broke the kiss to nibble at your neck, you opened your eyes to see him next to you; half-lidded brown deep eyes, an opened bottle of wine in one hand and his lower lip in the other. Your skin was burning, and you had barely been touched.

You smiled at him when Carrillo took your jacket off, Peña smirked and took a sip of wine directly from the bottle, careless about any pleasantries.

Carrillo’s wet tongue latched softly at your pulse point and ripped a low moan out of you, you closed your eyes again when his hands gripped your ass over the fabric of your jeans.

“Colonel, please,” you muttered, sighing as you felt his large hands had fun with your flesh and grip it after hearing the way you called him.

“Words, querida” he just replied, putting some distance between your wet skin and his lips.

“More,” you bit your lip, Carrillo smirked at you and you noticed the way his eyes darkened with desire in front of you. He turned to look at Javier, who was still standing at the kitchen entrance, palming his erection over his jeans.

“Bring that,” Carrillo said, pointing at the bottle, then slid his hand from your ass to the small of your back and guided you towards the staircase.

Between your hazed eyes and the cloud of lust that had begun to invade your mind you looked around Carrillo’s space and wondered how a man like him could live in a place that big. You smiled to yourself when he put his hand on the small of your back and soon enough Peña caught up to you, you felt his ever so imposing presence behind you.

Carrillo opened the door to the bedroom and pushed you softly inside.

You didn’t even have time to take your surroundings in when you felt a pair of warm hands find your hips and a set of lips grazing at your earlobe. Your eyes closed by themselves and the sweet, strong smell of Javier’s cologne invaded your nostrils as he pulled your back flush against his chest.

“Sh–shit,” you let out, half a whisper, half a moan, when you felt Carrillo’s hands roam around your waist.

You were losing yourself between the touch of the two of them, you shivered when Carrillo cupped your breast as Javier nibbled at the skin of your neck, from behind, you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to do whatever–the–fuck he pleased with your neck.

“Mírate, chiquita,” Carrillo whispered, you felt his breath on your lips and when you re-opened your eyes you saw him inches away from your face “you’re already wrecked.”

You felt Javier chuckling against your flushed skin, and you bit your lower lip, bringing a hand to the Colonel’s nape to pull him closer and kiss him again.

One of Javier’s hands found itself under your shirt, his mouth was moving and his other hand pulled softly at your shirt over your shoulder to find more skin to lick and kiss. Carrillo found the hem of your shirt and broke the kiss to look at you, as if asking for permission and reassurance that you wanted what he wanted. Javier watched the silent exchange and smirked against the skin of your shoulder, he gave it a last brush of his mustache and a last kiss before you nodded to the Colonel and he helped you out of the garment.

Carrillo smiled to himself when he saw what you’ve been hiding under it, a black, only-lace bra that showed the shade of your nipples, you bit your lip again when you took in his disheveled figure, his notorious erection under his military green pants that made the pool between your legs grow.

“How are you this fucking beautiful?” Javier muttered behind you, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses behind your ear to your nape.

Your breath hitched when Carrillo kneeled in front of you and you felt your chest heaving with desire when his large fingers dextrely unbuttoned your jeans and his thumbs hooked on the hem. He looked at you again and you nodded for a second time. Javier looked over your shoulder at the Colonel slowly sliding your jeans off your hips then your legs and he left his hands roam around the now naked skin of your torso. Your hands landed on the back of his head, and he took the hint, attacking the skin of your neck once again.

Carrillo threw your jeans away once he helped you out of them and you moaned loudly when his lips grazed against your knee. One of your hands dropped to grab Carrillo’s head as his trail of kisses moved up, up, up until he reached the soft skin where your thigh and your hip joined. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you were sure he could feel it at that point and you didn’t care, for once you let yourself only feel and let all thought out of your mind while you felt two mouths, two men, take care of you.

There was no hesitation from Javier’s side as his fingers gently grazed up your spine, expertly unclasping your bra, taking in the image of the straps loosening on your smooth skin. He was damn near panting at the mere sight, but he had to remind himself that that was only the tip of the iceberg. The moans you were letting escape your mouth as Carrillo pressed gentle kisses on your inner thighs aided him in no way. He felt himself get harder and harder and fought off raging instincts to turn that moment into another one of his one-night stands.

Javier made sure he tasted your skin while he took the straps from both sides between his fingers and slid them off your shoulders, he felt you shivering under his hands and over Horacio’s mouth and you could feel the smirk on your skin, once the bra came off, Javier took your chin and moved your head to face him, he pressed his mouth on yours, his tongue hungry for your scent, invading your cavities and feeling your warmth rush through his body with the speed of light. Everything about your scent was intoxicating and consuming, and ever so addicting that he could barely find it in himself to stop.

But then his calloused hands found your breasts and oh–oh, shit.

That first squeeze, tantalizingly slow and powerful, took you out completely. You gasped, and you weren’t sure if it was Horacio’s warm breath in between your legs or Javier fondling your breasts, but you embraced the overwhelming effect both had on you. Javier squeezed again, and moved around to locate the sweet torture of his mouth onto your nipples, taking one in his mouth whilst his thumb moved over the other one, twisting it in between his fingers as he nibbled at your skin. His tongue left a glistening trail as he peppered kisses in between your breasts, moving up your sternum, collarbones and neck and focusing on one particular spot that seemed to drive you wild. So much so that you reached behind your back to grab a handful of his hair, pull him in closer however you could.

“Lay her down, Peña,” Carrillo cooed, and the man followed suit.

You saw the Colonel untuck his shirt and take it off while Javier kneeled on the bed and helped you lay down on it, the softness of the sheets embraced you and the coldness made you whimper softly.

It was a premiere for him to witness Javier Peña, of all people, being so submissive and attentive, but he had other matters to focus on at the moment. His mouth left your already glistening and plump lips to grab the bottle of wine, your eyes followed him as you felt Carrillo’s hands spread your legs open and kiss the inside of your legs again, Javier came back to the bed and kneeled next to you, his hand gripping the bottle and the other cupping your face, he smiled softly at you and took a sip from the bottle; you moaned when Carrillo’s hands worked to get you out of your lace panties and Javier leaned down to you, the hand that cupped your face moved to your chin and he opened your mouth with his thumb, letting the wine pour from his mouth to yours, the wine was warm and it tasted sweet, when you closed your mouth and swallowed, Javier’s thumb grazed your lips and you heard a hard pant next to you, you turned to see Carrillo’s lusted face, you gave him a soft smile and he all but threw himself to you, kissing your mound, you moaned again and Javier leaned back, bringing the chilled bottle closer to your body, letting the tip of it graze against your warm skin, between the cold sensation and Carrillo’s lips tasting you, you were about to scream, Javier looked at you, smirked and pour some of the wine all over your breasts and abdomen, immediately reaching down on your again to lick the liquid off. A bit of the wine had traveled down your abdomen to your lower belly and found its way into Carrillos mouth, the feeling of the cold wine and their tongues made you growl. You had two pairs of equally sinful and skilled lips teasing and licking deliciously well over your exposed skin, and you had half of mind to grab either one of them and get to business. You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so aroused, but it was all a masterful torture and all for a good time. If anyone else was allowed to have their downtime, why shouldn’t you?

It was somewhat futile to even attempt to please either one of the men in return; their own pleasure seemed to be revolving around yours and they were both doing such an incredible job out of it that you had a hard time trying to keep track of where did the waves of pleasure come from anymore. It was all one big tsunami of feelings, from overstimulation to lust and appreciation and love in some form.

Carrillo continued his ministrations while Javier licked the remains of the wine from your body, his tongue traveled to your sternum and he took a nipple on his mouth ever so briefly, then he stood up and quickly undressed, not bothering to be cool about it, he just threw his clothes to the floor while he looked at Horacio have the time of his life between your legs, you let out soft moans and whispers and while Javier took off his jeans he saw your hand grip Carrillo’s hair as your hips hatched against the Colonel’s face. You felt his tongue flicking your clit and he pushed a thick finger inside you, curling it around, building you up and throwing you off the cliff with the same force he had put you there. You came on his mouth with his name on yours.

As you laid on the bed, legs spread for Carrillo as he helped you ride off your orgasm, Javier kneeled back on the bed next to your face, his hand snaked its way around your neck, gently grabbing both sides and helping you take his erection in your mouth, which you were more than happy to do. You could tell he was somewhat tensed: he was doing his absolute best to control his motions and to keep it at a normal rhythm, but the more you involuntarily groaned as Carrillo began to glide his tongue across your slit once again, building up your second climax, the more Javier was slowly losing bits and pieces of himself. Within seconds, you could just tell you weren’t gonna last long, but neither would Javier as he picked up the face and jerked his hips forward more and more, thus obliging you to take more of him in. You couldn’t explain it, nor find any logic behind the action itself, but you swore you felt his release in Javier’s impatient thrusts and, sure enough, mere seconds later, he finally came, grunting as ropes of his seed dripped down your jaw.

Your moans returned when Carrillo added two fingers to his mouthy torture over your clit, and you felt like you could explode. Not long after that all-too familiar gut feeling, that almost persistent desire to burn, you came for a second time, eager to jerk your hips forward and meet as much as you could of Carrillo’s tongue, but this time, the man’s grip over your thighs was impossible to break. He held you in place ever so expertly and ate you out like you were his favorite five course meal, soaking up every ounce of juice that you provided him with.

You temporarily lost feeling in your arms as you tried to raise them to make at least Javier pay attention, but words also failed to leave your abused mouth.

“Que buena chica,” Carrillo said from somewhere down below. (What a good girl.)

Your brain didn’t register what he said properly. All you could feel was a fire so intense, so vivid, you nearly saw stars. And something told you that was only the beginning.

And you were proven right.

In the momentary lack of physical touch, you thought about the moment itself, having two of the strongest, most desirable men eager to please you–simultaneously, might you add–and the more you thought about it, the more it threw you off completely. Why? You weren’t really sure. Perhaps it was the idea in the back of your mind that you wouldn’t have thought yourself capable of that. Or them, really. The activity hadn’t been exactly on your to-do list over the past few years and yet now, you couldn’t have thought of a better way to figure out your feelings for them, and to spare time.

The freshly acquired ecstasy was not only enthralling, but efficient as well.

After your second orgasm at Horacio’s ministrations you saw him between your lusted, narrowed eyes, undress completely, Javier was next to you, trailing his fingers up and down your wet torso–wet with wine and his saliva, what a fucking thought– while the both of you saw Carrillo take the remains of his clothes off and took in his lean figure, Javier smirked when he saw him whole and thought to himself the things he would do to the man if he had the time.

Javier wrapped his arms around your waist and helped you roll over to the side to face him, licking his bottom lip in the process and made sure you watched as he did so. He had been eyeing you up and down the entire day, whether clothed or not, and every glance he threw you, ever so dark and desirable, filled with subtext and desire, made you weaker and weaker, just like Carrillo’s touches were.

You reached his face and took his lips in yours, his tongue slid inside your mouth and as he explored the insides and his hand grabbed fistfuls of your ass, you felt the bed shifting behind you, and another hand snaked from behind and found your breast, you were being pressed against and between two bodies and the wam of them was driving you insane, when Carrillo’s fingers played with your nipple you bucked your hips forward and you felt Javier’s erection graze at your lower belly. Javier moved his hand from your ass to your thigh and then he let it slide to your pussy, you bucked your hips backwards and you felt Carrillo’s erection graze at your ass.

“How are you still this wet, bonita?” Javier asked, while his fingers found themselves between your lips.

“Don’t you know the answer by now, Javi?” you muttered, feeling the way Carrillo’s mouth found your shoulders.

You glanced at him and Carrillo the same way Javier looked at you and you understood in an instant why he always preferred to be that way. It was enticing, addicting and sinful, just the way he was.

And by the looks of it, Colonel Horacio Carrillo was no saint either.

“How do you want this to go, chiquita?” Horacio asked behind you as you moved your leg up to allow Javier’s fingers to find a way inside you.

You sighed. Why was he asking you that question when you weren’t even sure something like this would happen? For a brief, brief second you wanted to hide, just grab your clothes and hide. But you found yourself sandwiched between the men that you most desired and you just couldn’t waste this opportunity for the life of you.

So you rummaged around your deepest, filthiest fantasies you’ve had when everything had just been a sinful dream, a product of your lascive thoughts giving into what you catalogued as your darkest secrets and desires and you found one you couldn’t stop think about after it had given you a stars–behind–the–eyes orgasm.

“I want both,” you muttered, feeling the way both men groaned at your sides, “both inside me, please.”

“You sure?” Javier asked, pulling out his fingers from your cunt and looking at the way they glistened, you nodded.

“Words, chiquita,” Horacio said and you turned to see him, he leaned down and stole a short, deep kiss.

“I’m a hundred percent sure,” you murmured against the Colonel’s lips.

“Let’s get you ready, then,” Javier whispered on your neck and you sighed when his fingers slid back into your slit, you closed your eyes when Horacio played your nipples around his fingers and then his hand roamed down your body, finding their way to your pussy.

“Déjame entrar,” Horacio said under his breath, Javier stopped moving his fingers inside you and you squeezed your eyes tighter when Carrillo slid two more fingers inside your cunt.

“Fu–fuck, fuck,” you gasped, Javier let open mouthed kisses around your face and the skin of your neck within reach while your walls tightened around their thick fingers.

“You okay?” Javier asked and you nodded a few times before your body relaxed and got used to the intrusion.

“Mo–move,” you pleaded, feeling Horacio’s mouth nibbling at your shoulder and your neck.

Javier and Horacio moved their fingers at the same time inside you, looking at each other as if marking a dancing pace. You didn’t know what to do with yourself as they moved in and out and curled their fingers in all directions inside you, making you moan and whimper and open up more for them as they somehow found an identical pace to torture you with.

“Eso, eso nena, lo estás haciendo muy bien,” Carrillo praised behind you, feeling the way your walls were giving into the attention and dilating around their fingers (That’s it baby, you’re doing great)

“Más,” you pleaded, rolling your hips against their hands “Más, más,”

They grinned at each other, Javier’s eyes landed on your face and took in the way your features quirked in pure pleasure. Their fingers moving at the same time, pacing in and out faster. Javier’s mouth landed on your shoulder and Carrillo only took in the lewd noise his and Javier’s fingers were making as they pulled in and out at a murdering pace.

“Oh, sh–shit,” you bit your lip and tried to hide your face inside the crook of Javier’s neck but Horacio pulled you away with his other hand.

“We wanna hear you, querida.” he whispered behind your ear, you shivered again at the feeling of his warm breath and then it became too much, their fingers were covered in your arousal as you spread your legs impossibly wider as your throat began growling and your hands landed on both of them, digging your nails on their flesh. Javier hissed against your shoulder and Carrillo bit the skin of your mouth, both of them throwing you together from the cliff and your body spasmed between them.

“Oh my god, oh shit, fuck!” you screamed between their bodies and they slowed their pace to help you ride down your climax “please, please, fuck me, please,” you let out, almost desperately, eager to feel the same with them inside you. They slid their fingers out of you and you shivered again.

Your body was already a mess, after three powerful orgasms you were panting for air, the only thing you wanted was them inside you, you wanted to feel every ridge and every vein of them, you wanted; you needed to cum around them both.

“What is taking you so long?” you opened your eyes, quite frustrated at the lack of attention to your bodies, but the sight that you took in was otherworldly.

Carrillo had his fingers, his covered–in–your–arousal fingers inside Javier’s mouth.

“Fuck,” you let out, dropping your head on the mattress, looking at the way Javier grabbed Horacio’s wrist to keep his hand on his mouth and lick them clean of you while Horacio’s deep gaze took Javier in with a smirk adorning his face.

Horacio pulled his fingers out with a soft pop and they both looked at you, panting and brushing a nipple with your fingers.

“Next time you’ll have to put on a show for me,” you teased.

“You’re ready?” Javier asked, leaning down to kiss your temple, you looked at Carrillo and smiled at him as he licked his fingers.

“Very,” you replied, softly, your voice was already hoarse because of the moaning and screaming they had pulled out of you, they got comfortable on each of your side and you took a deep breath when Horacio lifted your leg and hooked it on his hip.

Javier was the first one to tease your entrance with the dripping head of his cock, when you felt it sliding up and down your slit you gasped and as he pushed himself inside you you grabbed his arm and licked any part of his skin available for you.

“Oh my god,” you cried out softly.

Javier was having a hard time staying still when your walls were warm and wet around him, his hands roamed around your body as Carrillo lined himself with you and him as well and then he pushed.

“Holy fucking shit,” you had close your eyes at the feeling of Horacio making his way inside of you, you breathed and panted and tried so hard to relaxe but they were thicker than their fingers and your pussy was clenching already around them. Javier took your hand and you squeezed his as both of them bottomed up inside you.

Horacio put his hands over the entanglement of yours and Javi’s and the three of you gasped and panted until your body stopped squirming between them and your walls stopped closing themselves at the feeling of two thick cocks making their way inside.

Javier had to close his eyes as well when he felt how your cunt clenched him tight closer to Horacio and he felt himself throb inside you, when he opened his eyes he saw you, open mouthed gasps leaving your body as it got used to being that full, and then his eyes traveled to Horacio, that buried himself in the crook of your neck, he supposed he was feeling the same way as him, trapped in a oh–so–tight hole with him.

“Move, move, move,” you all but begged, the initial sting of being filled like that disappearing and being replaced with the darkest, deepest, hottest desire you had ever felt, “fu–fucking move already!”

Horacio smirked against the skin of your neck at your demand and moved slightly to look at Javier, who nodded once and then, murdering pleasure; Javier pulled out and as he was thrusting slowly back in, Horacio pulled out and moved in as Javier moved out and you gasped and the air in your lungs left you for the time being as your cunt was filled with the two men you wanted the most.

It was pleasure delivered in a delicious swing of two hips rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth into you, making you impossibly wetter, incredibly hornier, and way too lost in the haze to even care about anything else.

The way that they were fucking you was shameless, the noises were lewd and your moans invaded the room as soon as they picked up the pace and kept driving into you at the same pace but in different directions.

Four hands caressed your body, two sets of lips nibbled at your skin, two tongues tasted the salty sheet of sweat that had covered your body, two thick cocks used your body at their will, making you want to explode; it was an eager combination of feelings and sensations pulled out of the most sensual, lechery, degenerated dreams you could ever had.

“Harder, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you panted out, gripping any skin and limb your hands could find. Your hips started rolling and rolling and rolling with them as they thrusted and pounded inside you.

“Mierda,” Horacio gasped behind you, biting at your skin, making you whimper.

“You’re so fucking tight, so fu–fucking good, baby,” Javier cried out as your pussy clenched around them and you absentmindedly rolled your hips harder.

It was an entanglement of limbs and wet skin, mouths clashing against skin, hands gripping and grabbing available flesh, a swing of bodies and a symphony of licks, kisses, hums, gasps, pants, begs and praises.

“Shit, sh–shit,” you panted harder and clawed at Javier’s arm when you felt the well-familiar tug on your belly of an incoming orgasm, you hummed and moaned and you felt lips in your ear, licking and nibbling at your earlobe, “I’m so close, más,”

Javier gritted his teeth when you demanded more and angled his hips to pound inside harder, Horacio followed his lead, dropping his hand on Javier’s shoulder for leverage. Carrillo’s touch burned in Javier’s skin and he felt his body stiffen with the feeling of his second release.

“Por dios, querida, me estás matando.” Horacio cried out behind you, feeling as well his body falling from the cliff. (My god, you’re killing me)

Javier’s free hand slid through your wet, glistening skin and his finger circled your clit slowly, you screamed his name, your legs buckled and your entire body squirmed with the sea of sensations your body was feeling and flooding with.

“Cum inside me, please, please,” you panted again, feeling the way your legs started to shake as both of their thrust became erratic and Javier’s finger kept circling around your bundle of nerves you exploded around them, gushing out and soaking them as your orgasm made you scream both their names.

“Mierda, querida, mírate,” Horacio grunted before he gave into the lustfulness of it all and came inside you and around Javier.

Once Javi felt the warmness of Carrillo’s release and the way you soaked both of them and his hand, he locked his hips with yours and spilled himself inside as well, gasping out your name.

“Ohmyfuckinggod,” you let out as a sigh, feeling your legs tremble with the strength of your climax.

The three of you stayed like that, joined, for a while. As your bodies relaxed you finally opened your eyes and saw the way Horacio’s hand was resting on Javier’s shoulder, wrapping you as well between them. Both of them breathing heavily, eyes closed, recovering from whatever the hell you had done was called. You sighed and smiled to yourself. If it weren’t for the four orgasms you had and the way your cunt was throbbing after the abuse and dripping with their seed, you wouldn’t believe it was real at all.

“How was that, cariño?” Javier asked, grazing a hand up and down your arm.

“That was–magnificent,” you gushed, not sure how else to describe that positively euphoric experience, “I think–you two have worn me out.”

Horacio chuckled and moved your head to press a kiss to your forehead, and shifted to allow all three of you to lie somewhat comfortably under the covers. You whined when they pulled out of you, solely because at the loss of them, you felt empty.

“Rest now, querida, we’ll be here in the morning,” he whispered into your hair, and that was all the permission you needed.

“We should–” you brought a hand to your mouth to cover a massive yawn, “–do this again sometime.”

After that, it didn’t take long before you had succumbed to the tempting pull of sleep. Horacio sighed and glanced over your shoulder at Javier, who looked rather worn out himself. Tenderly, Horacio reached over and brushed aside a small strand of hair that had fallen in Javi’s face.

“So, same time next week, then?” Horacio asked, giving Javier a lazy smirk, which was returned in kind.

“Yeah,” Javier mumbled, turning over to drape his arm around your way and bury his face in your neck.

“Absolutely.”

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

pedrito's perma list: @northernpunk @pascalesque @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 @bii-aan-ckaa @letaliabane @supernaturalgirl @metalarmsandmanbuns @asta-lily @alliterative-albatross @greeneyedblondie44 @missswriter @juletheghoul @pedro-pastel @agirllovespancakes @charlispersonallyhell @hopeevenonthisside @sherala007 @magpie-to-the-morning

dick aneurysm: @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorianalso @purplepascal042 @maharani-radha @pascalslittlebrat @mothandpidgeon @wyn-dixie @empress-palpat1ne @charnelhouse

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd

Priya’s permanent taglist: @captn-andor @cap-n-stuff-main @sarahjkl82-blog @banga-sama @revolution-starter @phoenixhalliwell @velia27 @cynic-spirit @leonieb @bootyliciousbilbo @panagiasikelia @mcrmarvelloki @stanfordscrush @spideysimpossiblegirl @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @princess76179

Priya’s Javi taglist: @brujademente @walt-breslin @rubeskar

Priya’s Carrillo taglist: @melaniecraig80 @tropes-and-tales

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #Horacio carrillo fanfic #javier peña x reader x horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader x javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos netflix #repost #fic repost #maurice compte #maurice compte characters #Pedro Pascal #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal characters

191 notes · View notes

miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

Forbidden

Chapter 1

A/N- I've teased y'all for so long I hope this series is going to live up to expectations, I'm confident it will though because I'm addicted and it's been super easy for me to write - I'm up to chapter 3 so far so updates can be on time! There's a slight age gap between my professor Hemsy and OC Jess but she's twenty and completely legal. You know this is gunna be a giant tease fest for the first couple of chapters cos that sexual tension is fucking gold 🥵

Summary- Jess meets the man of her dreams and then stupidly leaves without getting his number. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 1.5 K

Pairing- Professor!Chris Hemsworth x OC

Warnings- Swearing, age gap

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th August 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

@skyfullofsong123 @swaggysposts

Chapter 2

I pulled out a chair at the last available table in the unusually busy coffee shop, I thought I might've caught a break choosing the one outside of campus but alas I was wrong.

I was about to sit down when the chair opposite me slid out from under the table, my eyes lifted to meet with the most sparkly blue eyes i'd ever seen. The sight of him took my breath away. Literally.

I stood staring, frozen on the spot, my mouth slightly ajar as I looked him up and down. He was tall, so tall, definitely over 6ft and built like a dream. Thick thighs straining against his fitted trousers, wide muscular shoulders and I just knew there was a six-pack hiding behind that tight t-shirt.

"Sorry. You were here first, I'll just grab a take-out." He smirked a side smile, amused at how I was so obviously checking him out but his sexy Australian accent distracted you from anything else.

"It's fine, I'm on my own. I don't mind if you want to sit there too." I mentally face palmed myself, drawing attention to the fact I was alone wasn't the best idea but then again he was alone too. "I don't bite." I added trying my best to flirt.

It seemed to work, he smiled at me as he sat down and I took the time to admire his handsome face. He was quite clearly a lot older than me, the laughter lines around his eyes a tell tale sign but he was still quite possibly the best looking man I'd ever laid eyes on. His hair was fair and the short beard framed his face perfectly but the one thing that stood out the most were those piercing ocean-blue eyes.

"So do you come here often?" I cocked my eyebrow at him over my coffee cup making him laugh at my reaction. "Sorry, it's been a while." He said nervously, running his hand through his hair.

"It's been a while since you spoke to a stranger or…?" I questioned casually.

"It's been a while since I spoke to an attractive woman." He finished, his eyes sparkling as he watched me almost choke on my drink.

"Oh, I err…. I don't think you're doing too badly." I absentmindedly circled my finger around the rim of my cup, crossing my leg over my other and accidently rubbing my foot up his leg. My cheeks felt hot and flushed as I looked up into his eyes and saw him smiling slyly.

"Evidently. We're already playing footsie under the table." He smiled widely, a genuine smile that stretched the corners of his mouth. I smiled back at him shyly, thinking of something to say to change the subject before I ended up looking like a tomato.

"What part of Australia are you from?"

"I'm originally from Melbourne but I lived in Byron Bay before I came to America."

"Awesome. I've always wanted to go to Australia, the Spiders put me off though."

"Yeah I think they put most people off but in heavily populated areas they stay pretty much hidden, I think it's the size that scare people." How have I made this conversation go from flirting to talking about spiders? And how do I get back to flirting?

"Are we still talking about spiders?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly and laughed at the innuendo, flicking my hair over my shoulder. I noticed something in his eyes when I did so, a hunger, just a little flash and then it was gone again. I'm sure I didn't imagine it though because his eyes lingered on my exposed shoulders.

I checked my watch subtly, not wanting him to think he was boring me but I had to get to class and couldn't be late again, not when this semester had only just started.

"I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to run, I'm going to be late. It was really nice meeting you." I gathered up my bags, ready to leave.

"Already? You've only just got here." He looked disappointed, his smile fading. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something else and then closed again when he saw I was ready to leave. "It was really nice to meet you too, hopefully I'll see you again." His eyes sparkled as he looked into mine, standing from his chair to get the door for me. I felt fireworks when his hand brushed against the small of my back and his face lingered close to mine. The tension was unreal, like we were the only people in the room as his eyes hungrily stared into my soul, undressing me with his eyes. My heart stopped beating when his face moved closer to mine so I could feel his breath on my lips, the smell of coffee and his aftershave filling my nostrils. I paused, my feet routed to the spot, I wanted him to kiss me so badly but I moved away at the last minute. Surely he wasn't actually going to kiss me, we'd only just met, that would be ridiculous. Wouldn't it?

********

I spent most of class daydreaming about my tall handsome stranger and the way he looked at me but most of all how I didn't even get his name. Or his number.

Now I was feeling sorry for myself because it would just be my luck to meet the man of my dreams and then never see him again. So I'd moped about all day and avoided the invitations for drinks after class. Instead I'd

gotten home early, changed into some sweats and settled myself in front of the TV for the night.

"What's up with your face?" My roommate, Ellie said as she walked into our room, throwing her bags onto her bed.

"What're you talking about?"

"Your face. Looks like you're chewing on a wasp."

"Feeling sorry for myself." I pout pathetically.

"Why, what've you done now?" She rolled her eyes, kicking off her shoes and throwing her legs up onto the bed. I felt so lucky to have a roommate like Ellie, during our freshman year she'd become my best friend practically straight away and now after two years together we were practically sisters.

I sat up in bed cross legged and faced Ellie, getting myself ready to spill my misfortunes of the day with her.

"Well, I went to Impresso's this morning to get my morning coffee before class." She nodded, showing her enthusiasm by also sitting cross legged on her own bed, facing me. "And it was packed full of students, there was only one table left. So I went to grab it as soon as I could." She raised her eyebrow at me, wondering where I was going with the story. "And I kid you not, the most attractive man I have ever seen, pulls out the chair opposite me."

"Oh my god! No way. Did you talk? Oh my god, this is like the perfect chick flick. Carry on." I smiled at her excitement.

"I told him I didn't mind if he sat there, I mean of course I didn't mind, you should've seen him El. Oh, oh, oh I almost forgot" I flapped my hands, bouncing on the spot. "He was fucking Australian."

"Fuck off, you're lying. Drop dead gorgeous with the sexiest accent ever. How is this even real? Now remind me why you're sat there with a face like a slapped arse?"

"I panicked when I had to leave, didn't want to be late for class and I didn't get his number, didn't even give him chance to ask for mine."

"Wow! Ok, now I understand. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was panicking and you know what I'm like when I panic." You sulk.

"It's ok, maybe you'll bump into him again."

"Yeah, right. I should be so lucky."

"Cheer up." she says throwing a cushion at me. "There's a party at Alpha Kappa this weekend, I'm sure we can find you someone to help get over your mystery man. Or under should I say?" She raised her eyebrow at me, smiling slyly and making me laugh. She always did know how to cheer me up and maybe a party is what I needed.

There must be some good looking boys around campus that could make me forget about my Australian hunk. Surely? I thought about the guys I'd seen around campus, the guys I'd seen at frat parties and that's definitely not what I wanted. How could a twenty year old boy match to the masculine, experienced man I met this morning. My mind was set, I'd dipped my feet ever slightly into the mature pool and that's what I wanted more than anything. There was always something missing with previous boyfriends and I was tired of all the game playing. I wanted someone who knew what they wanted and wasn't afraid to get it.

The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again. If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates?

Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris Hemsworth series #chris Hemsworth X oc #mcu rpf

106 notes · View notes

the-obiwan-for-me · 3 years

Text

Clan of Two

I had every intention of participating in Bo-Katan Week 2021 for the whole week. But real life is tough, and so is my main fic right now, and it just didn’t happen. But I got struck by inspiration when I realized last night what the prompt for today is. So, here’s my single contribution for Bo-Katan Week!

She found the boy in the tiny galley of the stolen gunship, nursing a mug of weak looking tea. The poor kid's face was swollen and angry looking. She wouldn't be surprised if his orbital bone was fractured. She knew from experience that that brute of a traitor, Gar Saxon, packed a punch.

Physically, he looked rough. But he was a Kryze, and he wore his emotions loudly, just like she did. Just like Satine. And he looked shell shocked and angry and drowning in grief, just like she felt.

She slid into the bench across from him and took a long pull off a bottle of tihaar she'd found stashed away. She passed it to him. He looked at it incredulously for a moment, then took his own swig, surprising her when he didn't wince like she expected. Perhaps the kid was tougher than she thought.

"How's your head?" she asked.

He picked at the label on the bottle for several heartbeats. "She was my mother, you know."

Bo-Katan swallowed the stone that seemed lodged in her throat, then nodded. "I know that."

He looked at her, dumbstruck, his unswollen eye blazing the same fierce crystalline blue as his mother's. He took another swig from the bottle, handed it back. "How did you know?"

Bo-Katan snorted a humorless laugh. "First of all, bleaching your hair only makes you look more like your mother." He glanced away, sheepish. "But mostly, it doesn't take much to spot a Kryze. And Satine is-" a sob she had not anticipated caught in her chest- "was my only sibling. You're no foundling."

He studied her for a while, working something through in his head. She sat quietly, giving him the room he needed to process. Then he finally sighed, squaring his broad shoulders. "Why didn't you try to kill me when you were with Death Watch, if it's that easy to tell?"

Bo-Katan sighed herself. "I wouldn't allow it."

He gave her another astonished look. It was becoming a habit. "You had that much power?" he scoffed.

She shrugged. "I was second in command. But, no, it wasn't like that." She picked at the label herself, recalling memories, some still too fresh to even feel like memories. She drowned them with a heavy drink of tihaar, then handed it to him. "Vizsla was tenacious, but he also could have the attention span of a Corellian grass squirrel. You would come up, and I would distract him."

He drank from the bottle and stared at her, his gaze hard. "Couldn't you have done that for my mother? Your sister?"

"Listen, kid, I never intended for that to happen!" she shouted, jumping to her feet to pace, gesturing wildly back in the imagined direction of Mandalore. "None of this was supposed to happen! I didn't even want to deal with those monsters! I tried to talk Pre out of it, especially once I knew that one had such a thing for Kenobi." The sob worked itself loose from her chest and she fought back the hot tears that wanted to follow it. The heat of her anger sparked the fire of her grief. "None of this was supposed to happen. I tried, Korkie. I tried." She stopped, staring down at her boots, wondering absently whose blood splattered them. "At least I got you out."

"I know." It was said softly, almost a whisper. She raised her gaze to meet his. "I….I just know."

"How do you know? Why should you trust me?"

"I mean, you did get me, and my friends, out. And I saw what you tried to do for others in the aftermath. You do care about Mandalore." He stood and moved toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder. He was tall, and broad chested, and in many ways reminded her of her father. But in so many ways, he was so completely, uniquely different. "And Mum trusted you immediately. She forgave you, instantly. I don't know much. She didn't talk about you except about when you two were small. I don't know what happened, but whatever it was, it wasn't so bad that she couldn't forgive you." He squeezed her shoulder, let his arm drop. "So, I should probably try to do the same. I'm going to try, ok, Auntie?"

She reached up and tenderly brushed a hand along his cheek. She was so rarely tender. She had so rarely been shown tenderness. But she could be gentle for him. He was all she had left, now, and he was too much like his mother to be treated like every other ruthless brute that had shaped her. "This is how I know you're her child, ad'ika. You could dye your hair purple and grow a beard and cover your face with tattoos. But that, right there, is how I know."

He smiled sadly, his eyes shiny with the threat of tears. He took her hand from his face and squeezed it. "Vor entye, ba'vodu."

She squeezed back before letting his hand go. "No debts here, Korkie. I am in your debt."

He turned, rubbing his chin as he made his way back to the table, deep in thought. "What do we do now?" He drank from the bottle and handed it to her as she passed him, moving around the small space until she found a medkit.

"First, you let me patch up that face of yours," she said, sitting next to him before taking her own drink. "Then, if you're willing, we fight for our home. We fight for your mother's legacy."

He nodded once as she gently began to clean the cuts and scrapes along his face. "I am willing." He hissed in pain as she prodded along his orbital bone. It was definitely fractured. "But I don't know if I want to fight like you."

She picked up the bacta spray and gave it a shake. "Fair enough."

"And after that?"

"Well, we're family. We'll take care of each other."

He huffed out a breath. "You had a chance to be my family for eighteen years." He said it with a sharpness and bitterness she hadn't expected, sounding more like a petulant, angry teenager. He was an angry teenager, she reminded herself. Beyond that, even. The world as he knew it has been destroyed. Burned to the ground, in large part due to actions she had taken, or, at the very least, been able to prevent.

She had once been a teenager whose world had been burned to the ground, too.

So, she decided to try and take a page from her sister’s book. She forgave his sharp words.

She sighed, cupping his cheek softly, turning his face to hers. “I am beginning to regret that I didn’t take my chance more and more each day,” she said quietly. “We’re a clan of two, now, and we have to take care of each other. I won’t lose you, too. I plan on keeping you safe.” She rummaged through the medkit, pulling out the skin adhesive. “Now sit still while I glue this shut.”

He looked apologetic, took a sip of tihaar, and sat quietly, letting her work.

They sat like that for a while, Bo-Katan, working gently to glue shut a cut across Korkie’s temple. Korkie hummed a tune that Bo-Katan recognized as a lullaby her father sang to her and Satine when they were small. She mused to herself that she and Korkie would have nearly matching scars as she worked.

He suddenly jolted, looking up to meet her eyes. “If you knew she was my mum, can you tell me who my father is?”

Bo-Katan fought the urge to grimace, then gave herself a moment to compose herself, plan out the right thing to say. “Your mother and I weren’t really speaking when she would have been pregnant with you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not at all.

But it also wasn’t the absolute whole truth, either.

She knew who the father was. Or, at least, she had strong suspicion. She didn’t need to be a mathematician to realize Satine had to have become pregnant during her year with the two Jedi. One of which had the same nose, the same strong jaw, the same auburn hair that was just beginning to show in the roots of Korkie’s bleached hair. It was an easy enough guess. She was surprised he hadn’t guessed it already, really.

But, for now, she’d keep it herself. This boy didn’t need to know that the man who had come to save his mother, but, instead, caused her death, was his father. One day, maybe. Maybe when he wasn’t so fragile. When the world didn’t feel so utterly destroyed for the both of them.

He seemed to accept her answer. He nodded once, closed his eyes, and settled back into letting her repair the gash on his temple, humming softly to himself.

There was very little she could do to make amends for all the horror she had allowed to be wrought on their home. But she could do two things: she could fight to get it back, and she absolutely would protect her sister's son until her very last breath.

#bo katan week #bo katan week day 6 #bkw 2021 #bo katan and korkie #bo katan kryze #korkie kryze #satine kryze #post the lawless #fudging the timeline a tiny bit #korkie is a kenobi #if you're reading something I wrote you KNOW he's going to be a kenobi

67 notes · View notes

stephspurs · 3 years

Text

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta

73 notes · View notes

fjoresterthoughts · 3 years

Text

Two truths and a lie

@fjoresterweek 2021 - Day 6: Beginnings

[AO3]

Jester was absolutely fascinated by her new friend. They had only known each other for a couple of days, and she had so many questions she wanted to ask him. Thankfully this half orc man, Fjord, pleasantly answered most of her questions and easily engaged in conversation. She had a good feeling about him. Besides, his eyes felt kind and she had seen her fair share of unpleasant people - he didn’t strike her as one of them. And the fact that he’s incredibly handsome is the rather large cherry on top of the cake.

They decided to stay the night in a tavern in Port Damali before they left the city in the morning. Jester had gotten herself kicked out of a rather fancy hotel further within the city for “them not being able to take a joke”, so Fjord had offered that she stayed at the same little tavern that he was staying at. It had certainly been a down-grade for her, but on the plus side, she got to spend more time with her new friend, so it wasn’t all bad.

“Do you want a drink?” Fjord asks while waving down a barmaid to the little table they were sitting at.

“I don’t really like alcohol that much.” Jester replies, a little sheepishly.

“Like all alcohol? Or just some? Because there are definitely some nasty ones.”

Jester shrugs. “Well, only the ones I’ve tried.”

Fjord chuckles. “That is completely fair.”

After the barmaid comes by and they make their orders for drinks and dinner, Jester turns to Fjord abruptly with a big smile on her face.

“Do you want to play a game?”

He looks at her hesitantly. “What kind of game?”

Jester claps her hands together. “It’s really simple. I tell you three things about myself, but one of them isn’t true. You have to guess which one is the lie, and then it’s your turn!”

Fjord nods. “Sounds simple enough. Do you want to go first?”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Jester says excitedly, almost bouncing around in her chair. Not only does she get to play a little game, she also has found a new way to get to know Fjord better? She is a genius. “Soooo…. Okay. My first friend is named the Traveller, sometimes I used to spy on my mom’s clients with a peep hole and I never got caught, and I skipped down the stairs once and broke my ankle.”

Fjord thinks for a moment. “Uh… the peep hole one?”

Jester grins. He fell for it. “Nope! I only sprained my ankle, I didn’t break it.”

“So… you did spy on them?” Fjord responds, with his eyebrows raised.

“Yep! I never got caught! Sometimes I caught them having sex and they had no idea!” Jester says, absolutely delighted.

Fjord blushes and opens his mouth to say something, and then looks very grateful when the barmaid arrives back at the table with their orders. He never does end up saying anything, and instead drinks a big gulp of his ale.

“Well, I uh, suppose it’s my turn, then?”

Jester nods, almost vibrating with excitement, and feels her tail swishing behind her.

“Alright. I was born in Port Zoon, I’m allergic to cats, and I’m bad at fishing.”

Jester hums. “I bet you’re good at fishing.”

Fjord shakes his head and smiles. “Nope. I’m terrible at it. I’ve even gotten a couple fish hooks in my thumb.” He says and reaches his hand forward, showing the scars to her.

“Oh wow! So which one was the lie?”

“I’m from here in Port Damali, not Port Zoon.”

“Oh cool! So we’re both coastal kids!” Jester says, leaning across the table and stealing a piece of food off Fjord’s plate.

“We are.” Fjord replies, and doesn’t seem to be perturbed by the food thievery.

“Ok, it’s my turn again. Um… one time I sang all the way through 99 bottles of beer on the wall, I watched a ghost play piano, and put a ‘kick me' sign on one of the lords of Nicodranas and he never noticed.”

Jester watches him and he stares at her and thinks about which one her lie might be. She could have given him more reasonable and boring choices, but there’s not as much fun in that. Besides, the look on his face right now is priceless as he processes the eccentric choices she gave him.

“I want to say the ghost? I really hope it is.” Fjord says hesitantly.

Jester claps. “Yes! It is! You got it right!”

“Maybe one day you’ll have to tell me about that third one you said.”

Jester cackles. “Oh! That ‘kick me’ sign prank? Sure, it’s a deal! But right now, it’s your turn again!”

“Let’s see.” He pauses, thinking about it. “I’ve sailed on three different ships, I’m a good swimmer, and this isn’t my real voice.”

Jester’s jaw drops. “Wait, have you been using a fake voice?”

Fjord laughs. “No. This is my real voice. I thought about it though.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well,” Fjord starts to say with a deep breath, but Jester interrupts him, noticing the tone shift.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s ok.”

Fjord shakes his head. “No, it’s ok. My old mentor, Vandran, used to sound -” Fjord clears his throat, and his voice changes to sound deeper and with a smokier tone to it. “He sounded like this. He was the captain of the last ship I sailed on, and the ship went down. When I was asking around about him at the docks, I… for some reason, decided to sound like him.”

Fjord looks down at the table, and runs his finger along the scuffs and carvings on its surface. “He had such a presence, and everyone listened to him whenever he spoke. And when I spoke like him, it was the same. It felt good. It felt nice to hear his voice again, in a way.”

“Do you want to sound like him?” Jester asks, hesitantly, and he finally makes eye contact with her again.

“Kind of.” Fjord replies, with his own softer voice. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I’m saying all of this. We were playing a fun game, sorry.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Jester smiles at him.

“I’ve never been so talkative with someone before.”

Jester smiles even wider. “You know what? I think we should stick together. I know we just met, but I have a really good feeling about you.”

Fjord can't resist a smile either. “Okay. I have a good feeling about you, too.” He winks, and Jester feels her face heat up and she has to look away. She has a sip of her non-alcoholic drink before she pipes up again.

“By the way, if you want to talk in Vandran’s voice with me, you can! Maybe tomorrow we can practice having conversations with that voice or something!”

There’s a softness in Fjord’s face that Jester can’t quite place. All she knows is that it makes her feel all warm and gooey inside and she likes it. “Yeah. Let’s try that tomorrow. For now though, do you want to keep playing this game?”

“For sure.”

#tomorrow is something different so this is the last of the fics!#fjoresterweek #fjorester #critical role #critical role fanfiction #fjorester thoughts

54 notes · View notes

writemarcus · 3 years

Text

HITTING NEW HEIGHTS

BY MARCUS SCOTT

ORIGINAL RENT STAR DAPHNE RUBIN-VEGA TAKES YOU INSIDE THE IN THE HEIGHTS FILM

Qué quiere decir sueñito?” The disembodied voice of a girlchild ponders. “It means ‘little dream,’” responds an unseen authoritative figure, his feathery tenor with a soft rasp and tender lilt implying there’s more to the story.

Teal waves crash against the white sand coastal lines of the Dominican Republic and a quartet of children plead with the voice to illuminate and tell a story. Usnavi de la Vega (played by Anthony Ramos), sporting his signature newsboy flat cap and full goatee, begins to narrate and weave a tall-tale from the comforts of his beachside food cart: “This is the story of a block that was disappearing. Once upon a time in a faraway land called Nueva York, en barrio called Washington Heights. Say it, so it doesn’t disappear,” he decrees.

And we’re off, this distant magic kingdom ensnared within the winding urban sprawl of farthest-uptown Manhattan, the music of the neighborhood chiming with infinite possibilities: a door-latch fastening on tempo, a ring of keys sprinkling a sweet embellishment, the splish-splash of a garden hose licking the city streets like a drumstick to a snare fill, a manhole cover rotating like vinyl on a get-down turntable, the hiss of paint cans spraying graffiti like venoms from cobras and roll-up steel doors rumbling, not unlike the ultra-fast subway cars zigzagging underground. So begins the opening moments of In the Heights, the Warner Bros. stage-to-screen adaptation of the Tony Award-winning musical by composer-lyricist Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton) and librettist Quiara Alegría Hudes (Water by the Spoonful) that is set to premiere in movie theatres and on HBO Max on June 11, 2021.

This stunning patchwork of visuals and reverberations combine to create a defiant and instantly memorable collage of inner-city living not seen since Walter Hill’s 1979 cult classic The Warriors or West Side Story, the iconic romantic musical tragedy directed on film by Robert Wise and original Broadway director Jerome Robbins. With Jon M. Chu at the helm, the musical feature has all the trademarks of the director’s opulent signature style: Striking spectacles full of stark colors, va-va-voom visuals, ooh-la-la hyperkinetic showstopping sequences and out-of-this-world destination locations.

WANT TO SEE MORE STORIES LIKE THIS?

SUBSCRIBE NOW

A Kind of Priestess

Joining the fray of proscenium stage vets in the film is Broadway star Daphne Rubin-Vega, who originated the role of Mimi in the Off-Broadway and Broadway original productions of Rent. She returns to major motion pictures after a decade since her last outing in Nancy Savoca’s Union Square, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2011. When we caught up with Rubin-Vega, she was hard at work, in-between rehearsals with her In the Heights co-star Jimmy Smits on Two Sisters and a Piano, the 1999 play by Miami-based playwright Nilo Cruz, a frequent collaborator. Rubin-Vega netted a Tony Award nomination for Best Featured Actress in a Play for her role as the enraptured Conchita in Cruz’s Anna in the Tropics; that same year Cruz was awarded the 2003 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, making him the first Latino playwright to receive the honor. Despite significant global, social and economic disruption, especially within the arts community, Rubin-Vega has been working throughout the COVID-19 pandemic.

“People around me have [contracted] COVID… My father-in-law just had it. I’m very fortunate,” Rubin-Vega said. “This collective experience, it’s funny because it’s a year now and things seem better. Last year it was, like, ‘Damn, how inconvenient!’ The one comfort was that, you know, it’s happening to every one of us. That clarity that this is a collective experience is much more humbling and tolerable to me.”

The last time Rubin-Vega graced Washington Heights on screen or stage, she acted in the interest of survival and hunger as a probationer released after a 13-year stint in prison and given a new lease on life as an unlicensed amateur masseuse in the basement of an empanada shop in Empanada Loca, The Spalding Gray-style Grand Guignol horror play by Aaron Mark at the LAByrinth Theater Company in 2015. In In the Heights she plays Daniela, an outrageously vivacious belting beautician with a flair for the dramatics, forced to battle a price-gouging real estate bubble in the wake of gentrification.

“She’s like the deputy or the priestess,” Rubin-Vega said. “Owning a salon means that you have a lot of information; you’re in a hub of community, of information, of sharing… it’s also where you go for physical grooming. It’s a place where women were empowered to create their own work and it is a place of closeness, spiritual advice, not-so-spiritual advice. Physical attention.”

She said, “Daniela also being an elder; I think she’s not so much a person that imposes order on other people. She’s there to bring out the best—she leads with love. She tells it like it is. I don’t think she sugar-coats things. What you see is what you get with Daniela. It’s refreshing; she has a candor and sure-footedness that I admire.”

With the film adaptation, Chu and Hudes promised to expand the universe of the Upper Manhattan-based musical, crafting new dimensions and nuances to two characters in particular: Daniela and hairdresser Carla, originally portrayed as business associates and gossip buddies in the stage musical. On the big screen they are reimagined as romantic life partners. Stephanie Beatriz, known to audiences for her hilarious turn as the mysterious and aloof Detective Rosa Diaz in the police procedural sitcom romp “Brooklyn Nine-Nine,” co-stars as the fast-talking firecracker, Carla.

It’s been a year waiting, you know. It’s like the lid’s been on it and so we’re just so ready to explode.

Where Is Home?

“Well, Quiara and Jon really expanded on what Lin and Quiara originally created and now they’re partners—and not just work partners, right? But they’re life partners,” Beatriz said at a March press event celebrating the release of the film’s two promo trailers. “What was so gratifying to me as a person who is queer is to see this relationship in the film be part of the fabric of the community, and to be normal, and be happy and functioning, and part of the quilt they’ve all created.”

She continued, “So much of this film is about where home is and who home is to you. And for Carla, Daniela is home. Wherever Daniela is, that’s where Carla feels at home. I thought that they did such a beautiful job of guiding us to this, really, you know, it’s just a happy functioning relationship that happens to be gay and in the movie. And I love that they did that, because it is such a part of our world.”

Rubin-Vega said she had no interest in playing any trope of what one might think a lesbian Latina might look or act like, noting that the queer experience isn’t monolithic, while expressing that the role offered her a newfound freedom, especially with regard to being present in the role and in her everyday life.

“Spoiler alert! I felt like not wearing a bra was going to free me. Did I get it right? Am I saying that gay women don’t wear bras? No, it was just a way for me to be in my body and feel my breasts. To feel my femaleness and celebrate it in a more unapologetic way,” she said, laughing. “To be honest, I was really looking forward to playing a lesbian Latina. It’s something that I hadn’t really explored before. Latinos [can be] very homophobic as a culture, and I wanted to play someone who didn’t care about homophobia; I was gonna live my best life. That’s a bigger thing. It’s also like, maybe I’m bisexual. Who knows? Who cares? If you see that in the film, that’s cool too, you know?”

Stand-out performances abound, especially with regard to the supporting cast; newcomers Melissa Barrera (in a role originated by Tony Award winner Karen Olivo) and Gregory Diaz IV (replacing three-time Tony Award nominee Robin de Jesús) are noteworthy as the aspiring fashion designer Vanessa and budding activist Sonny. Olga Merediz, who earned a Tony Award nomination for originating her role as Abuela Claudia, returns to the silver screen in a captivating performance that will be a contender come award season. However, Rubin-Vega may just be the one to watch. Her performance is incandescent and full of moxie, designed to raise endorphin levels. She leads an ensemble in the rousing “Carnaval del Barrio,” a highlight in the film.

Musical Bootcamp

“We shot in June [2019]. In April, we started musical bootcamp. In May, we started to do the choreography. My big joke was that I would have to get a knee replacement in December; that was in direct relation to all that choreography. I mean, there were hundreds of A-1 dancers in the posse,” Rubin-Vega said. “The family consisted of hundreds of superlative dancers led by Chris[topher] Scott, with an amazing team of dancers like Ebony Williams, Emilio Dosal, Dana Wilson, Eddie Torres Jr. and Princess Serrano. We rehearsed a fair bit. Monday through Friday for maybe five weeks. The first day of rehearsal I met Melissa [Barrera] and Corey [Hawkins], I pretty much hadn’t known everyone yet. I hadn’t met Leslie [Grace] yet. Chris Scott, the choreographer, just went straight into ‘let’s see what you can do.’ It was the first [dance] routine of ‘In The Heights,’ the opening number. He was like, ‘OK, let’s go. Five, six, seven, eight!’”

Rubin-Vega said that she tried to bring her best game, though it had “been a minute” since she had to execute such intricate choreography, noting that they shot the opening number within a day while praising Chu’s work ethic and leadership.

“There was a balance between focus and fun and that’s rare. Everyone was there because they wanted to be there,” she said. “I think back to the day we shot ‘96,000.’ That day it wouldn’t stop raining; [it was] grey and then the sky would clear and we’d get into places and then it would be grey again and so we’d have to wait and just have to endure. But even the bad parts were kind of good, too. Even the hottest days. There were gunshots, there was a fire while we were shooting and we had to shut down, there was traffic and noise and yet every time I looked around me or went into video village and saw the faces in there, I mean…it felt like the only place to be. You want to feel like that in every place you are: The recognition. I could recognize people who look like me. For now on, you cannot say I’ve never seen a Panamanian on film before or a Columbian or a Mexican, you know?”

Another Notion of Beauty

Rubin-Vega’s professional relationship with the playwright Hudes extends to 2015, when she was tapped to [participate in the] workshop [production of] Daphne’s Dive. Under the direction of Thomas Kail (Hamilton) and starring alongside Samira Wiley (“The Handmaid’s Tale,” “Orange Is the New Black”), the play premiered Off-Broadway at the Pershing Square Signature Center the following year. Rubin-Vega also starred in Miss You Like Hell, the cross-country road musical by Hudes and Erin McKeown, which premiered at La Jolla Playhouse in 2016 before it transferred to The Public Theater in 2018. With her participation in the production of In the Heights, she is among the few to have collaborated with all of the living Latinx playwrights to have won the Pulitzer Prize; Hudes won the 2012 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for her play Water by the Spoonful, while Miranda took home the 2016 Pulitzer Prize for Drama for Hamilton. Speaking on her multiple collaborations over the years, Rubin-Vega also acknowledged having known Miranda years before they would join voices.

“Lin to me is like a little bro or legacy; he’s a direct descent to me from [Rent author] Jonathan Larson, which is a bigger sort of all-encompassing arch,” she said, though she stressed that she auditioned like everyone else, landing the role after two or three callbacks. “Quiara and I have a wonderful working and personal relationship, I think. Which isn’t to say I had dibs by any means because…it’s a business that wants the best for itself, I suppose. […] So, when I walked in, I was determined to really give it my best.”

Life During and After Rent

Rubin-Vega has built an impressive resume over the course of her career, singing along with the likes of rock stars like David Bowie and starring in a multitude of divergent roles on Broadway and off. From a harrowing Fantine in Les Misérables and a co-dependent Stella in A Streetcar Named Desire to a sinister Magenta in The Rocky Horror Show, her evolution into the atypical character actor and leading lady can be traced back 25 years to January 25, 1996, when Larson’s groundbreaking musical Rent, a retelling of Giacomo Puccini’s 19th-century opera La Bohème, premiered at the New York Theatre Workshop. On the morning of the first preview, Larson suffered an aortic dissection, likely from undiagnosed Marfan’s syndrome and died at the age of 35, just ten days shy of what would have been his 36th birthday.

On April 29, 1996, due to overwhelming popularity, Rent transferred to Nederlander Theatre on Broadway, tackling contemporary topics the Great White Way had rarely seen, such as poverty and class warfare during the AIDS epidemic in New York City’s gritty East Village at the turn of the millennium. Rubin-Vega would go on to be nominated for the Tony Award for Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical for her role as sex kitten Mimi Márquez, an HIV-positive heroin addict and erotic dancer.

The show became a cultural phenomenon, receiving several awards including the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and four Tony Awards, including Best Musical. Rubin-Vega and members of the original Broadway cast were suddenly overnight sensations, recording “Seasons of Love” alongside music icon Stevie Wonder, receiving a photo shoot with Vanity Fair and landing the May 13, 1996 cover of Newsweek. Throughout its 12-year Broadway run, many of the show’s original cast members and subsequent replacements would go on to be stars, including Renée Elise Goldsberry, who followed in Rubin-Vega’s footsteps to play the popular character before originating the role of Angelica Schuyler in Hamilton, for which she won the 2016 Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Musical.

When the screen adaptation of Rent hit cinemas in 2005 under the direction of Chris Columbus, Rubin-Vega’s conspicuous absence came as a blow to longtime fans. The confluence of pregnancy with the casting and filming process of Rent hindered her from participating at the time. The role was subsequently given to movie star Rosario Dawson.

“First of all, if you’re meant to be in a film, you’re meant to be in it,” Rubin-Vega said. “That’s just the way it goes. It took a quarter of a century but this [In the Heights] is a film that I wanted to make, that I felt the elements sat right. I always felt that Rent was a little bit darker than all that. Rent to me is Rated R. In The Heights is not. It’s also a testament. Unless it’s sucking your soul and killing you softly or hardly, just stick with it. This is a business and I keep forgetting it’s a business because actors just want to show art. So, it’s really wonderful when you get a chance to say what you mean and mean what you say with your work. It’s a really wonderful gift.”

Rarely-Explored Themes

Like Larson’s award-winning show and the film adapted from it, In The Heights is jam-packed with hard-hitting subject matter, addressing themes of urban blight, immigration, gentrification, cultural identity, assimilation and U.S. political history. When Rubin-Vega’s character Daniela and her partner were priced out of the rent for her salon, most of her clientele moved to the Grand Concourse Historic District in the Bronx. Her salon, a bastion of the community, is met with a polar response when she announces she’s joining the mass exodus with the other victims of gentrification who were pushed out by rising rents. The news is met with negative response from long-time patrons who refuse to take the short commute to the new location. Daniela counters, “Our people survived slave ships, we survived Taino [indigenous Caribbean people] genocide, we survived conquistadores and dictators…you’re telling me we can’t survive the D train to Grand Concourse?”

The question is humorous, but also insinuates a more nuanced understanding of the AfroLatinidad experience in the Western world. The film also looks at the American Dream with a naturalistic approach. Leslie Grace, who plays Nina Rosario, a first-generation college student returning from her freshman year at Stanford University and grappling with finances and the expectations of her community, noted that while her character “finds [herself] at some point at a fork in the road,” she may not have the luxury to be indecisive because of the pressures put on by family, community and country.

“The struggle of the first-generation Americans in the Latino community is not talked about a lot because it’s almost like a privilege,” Grace asserted. “You feel like it’s a privilege to talk about it. But there is a lot of identity crisis that comes with it and I think we explore that.” Speaking on the character, she elaborated: “Home for her is where her heart is, but also where her purpose is. So, she finds her purpose in doing something outside of herself, greater than herself and going back to Stanford for the people she loves in her community. I really relate to where she’s at, trying to find herself. And I think a lot of other people will, too.”

Worth Singing About

For Miranda, a first-generation Puerto Rican New Yorker that grew up in Inwood at the northernmost tip of Manhattan before attending Wesleyan University where he would develop the musical, this speaks to a larger issue of what defines a home.

“What does ‘home’ even mean? Every character is sort of answering it in a different way,” he said. “For some people, home is somewhere else. For some people, home is like ‘the block’ they’re on. So, that’s worth singing about. It’s worth celebrating in a movie of this size.”

Given the current zeitgeist, it’s no wonder why Chu, Hudes and Miranda decided to pivot with adapting the stage musical for the big screen, leaning in to tackle the plights and predicaments of DREAMers [children of undocumented immigrants seeking citizenship] stateside. In one scene, glimpses of posters at a protest rally read “Immigrant Rights are Human Rights” and “Refugees Are People Too.” Growing up in a multicultural household as a Latina with a Black Latina mother, a white father and a Jewish American stepfather, Rubin-Vega said she was used to being in spaces that were truly multiracial. Nevertheless, there were times when she often felt alien, especially as a du jour rock musical ingenue who looked as she did in the mid-1990s through the 2000s.

“Undocumented people come in different shapes and colors,” she noted. “To be born in a land that doesn’t recognize you, it’s a thing that holds so much horror… so much disgrace happens on the planet because human beings aren’t recognized as such sometimes.”

The film “definitely sheds light on that, but it also talks about having your dream taken away and its human violation—it’s a physical, spiritual, social, cultural violation,” Rubin-Vega said. “There’s a difference between pursuing dreams and being aware of reality. They’re not mutually exclusive. What this film does, it presents a story that is fairly grounded in reality. It’s a musical, it’s over the top… but it reflects a bigger reality, which is like an emotional reality…that people that are challenged on the daily, have incredible resolve, incredible resoluteness and lifeforce.”

She said: “Growing up, looking like me, I got to ingest the same information as everyone else except when it came time to implement my contributions, they weren’t as welcomed or as seen. The dream is to be seen and to be recognized. Maybe I could be an astronaut or an ingenue on Broadway? You can’t achieve stuff that you haven’t imagined. When it talks about DREAMers, it talks about that and it talks about how to not be passive in a culture that would have you think you are passive but to be that change and to dare to be that change.”

Dreams Come True

Dreams are coming true. Alongside the nationwide release of the much-anticipated film, Random House announced it will publish In the Heights: Finding Home, which will give a behind-the-scenes look at the beginnings of Miranda’s 2008 breakout Broadway debut and journey to the soon-to-be-released film adaptation. The table book will chronicle the show’s 20-year voyage from page to stage—from Miranda’s first drawings at the age of 19 to lyric annotations by Miranda and essays written by Hudes to never-before-seen photos from productions around the world and the 2021 movie set. It will be released to the public on June 22, eleven days after the release of the film; an audiobook will be simultaneously released by Penguin Random House Audio.

Hinting at the year-long delay due to the pandemic, Rubin-Vega said, “It’s been a year waiting, you know. It’s like the lid’s been on it and so we’re just so ready to explode.”

Bigger Dreams

“Jon [Chu], I think, dreams bigger than any of us dare to dream in terms of the size and scope of this,” Miranda said. “We spent our summer [in 2018] on 175th Street. You know, he was committed to the authenticity of being in that neighborhood we [all] grew up in, that we love, but then also when it comes to production numbers, dreaming so big. I mean, this is a big movie musical!”

Miranda continued, “We’re so used to asking for less, just to ask to occupy space, you know? As Latinos, we’re, like, ‘Please just let us make our little movie.’ And Jon, every step of the way, said, like, ‘No, these guys have big dreams. We’re allowed to go that big!’ So, I’m just thrilled with what he did ’cause I think it’s bigger than any of us ever dreamed.”

Speaking at the online press conference, Miranda said, “I’m talking to you from Washington Heights right now! I love it here. The whole [movie] is a love letter to this neighborhood. I think it’s such an incredible neighborhood. It’s the first chapter in so many stories. It’s a Latinx neighborhood [today]. It was a Dominican neighborhood when I was growing up there in the ’80s. But before that it was an Irish neighborhood and Italian. It’s always the first chapter in so many American stories.”

#Marcus Scott #MarcusScott #Write Marcus #writemarcus #Encore Monthly #theatre #Theater #Musical Theatre #musical theater #daphne rubin vega #rent #rent musical #Jon M Chu #lin manuel miranda #in the heights #Anthony Ramos

72 notes · View notes

seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 3 years

Note

Ok. This is a legitimate question that has been on my mind for a while. I feel like I’m missing something or… idk. Sorry for the essay.

It’s clear to me that Larry-baiting is no small component of Harry and his team’s business model. The astroturfing, Eroda, blue/green lights during TBSL, and reappearance of the blue bandana (among many, many other things) has proved that. How people can say otherwise is beyond me. I also think it’s clear that Larry hurts Louis (and is weaponized against him) in a way that is just not true for Harry. Walls as an album (and the ensuing music videos) showed me that Louis values artistry and authenticity in a way Harry does not. And yet, there have been times that I’ve wondered if Louis is Larry-baiting, too.

1.) The Reebok shirt with the big H on it during the livestream and 2.) The green jersey he wore for the AFHF. The idea of “coded clothing” might seem a bit ridiculous to an outsider, but it’s a big thing in this fandom. In my opinion, Louis has proved time and time again that he knows the fandom goings-on. The livestream and AFHF were not times when he was caught off guard by a fan asking for a picture or something. He knew he was going to be under a microscope, he knew he was going to be photographed. And, in my opinion, he puts a great deal of thought into his outfit choices in general. And that jersey was custom made. He could have made it any other color, but he chose green. I struggle with this because I don’t think Louis should have to live in “Larrie Land” and constantly think about how what he does/doesn’t do will be perceived. That’s absurd, and it’s not fair to him. But how could he put on a shirt with a massive H and choose green as the color for a custom made jersey (for big career moments, no less) without thinking about how it’s going to be interpreted? Why not just wear something else? Larries in 2021 read too much into things and take the most tedious of connections and spin them into “proof.” I’m worried I’m falling into that mentality here, but I must admit that both those shirts were a little hard to write off as coincidences. And, unlike the Defenseless Spotify art (that was probably chosen by some incompetent person on his team), those shirts were all Louis. I don’t think they’re together anymore, so it’s not “signaling.” So then, only two options remain: Baiting or coincidence. Idk what to think.

Yeah- I understand your meaning, and I agree that Louis meant to wear the shirt with the big H.

[[MORE]]

(I’ll disagree about the green AFHF shirt, only because it’s just a color, and the stage set / lights were often in pink/ red/ blue/ purple, and his musicians were in black. So green is a color that will stand out against all those other colors).

I might even agree that some of the Spotify art was about Larry.

And the interpretation, I think, depends on how the audience sees Louis’ history, and what advantage he’s trying to get out of it.

People who don’t believe “Larry” ever was a thing would say that Louis is doing it for money, just like Harry (the fact that Harry does it is incontrovertible). They’d say they’re both queerbaiting fans on a relationship that was imaginary.

However, if Larry was real at one point, then Louis is simply telling a truth about himself, the way that he was honest throughout his album, depicting a (likely LGBT) romance that fell apart because of career pressures.

Louis does not imply that the relationship is ongoing. In fact, he has given every indication that it’s over, even using the specific words, “break-up songs.”

If this is Louis’ reality, and if Louis has been used and dragged for being Harry’s fish, for fanfiction, for HBO promotion, for Harry’s woke LGBT bonafides, then why shouldn’t Louis be able to tell his truth too? Unlike Harry’s team, Louis’ team actually hasn’t insulted Harry. They actually do not refer to Larry with blue and green hearts etc. Louis also does not conduct day-to-day manipulations of fandom with blue bandanas, rings, Umbro shirts, imitation haircuts, etc.

I don’t deny that Larries are a much bigger part of Louis’ fandom than Harry’s; fans sometimes find Louis’ solo music through Harry’s solo music simply because Louis DOES NOT HAVE PROMO, period. That’s just how search algorithms work (and HSHQ probably hates it). I would also argue that Harry, having a much larger solo fanbase, and with every indication that Larry is in the past, can concentrate on growing his solo fanbase and not pull any more Eroda/ stealing from Larry fanfiction/ Euphoria bullshit.

I’d also urge Louis to cut the 1D ties and move on, bite the bullet, stop dwelling on this emotionally unhealthy relationship, especially if he wants to grow a diverse audience. Walls was about his past, but now Louis really needs to work on a future career, no matter how painful.

#louis tomlinson #harry styles #larrybaiting

13 notes · View notes

wiltingofthewhitelily · 3 years

Text

{Hetalia Platonic Ships Week 2021} Day 5: Partners in Crime - Latvia & Moldova

A/N: Submission #5 for @hetaliaplatonicshipsweek!

Sooo I was originally gonna do Sealand and Latvia for this one (or just a submission with these two in general), but then I thought this scenario would be funnier for a reason I'll talk about in the next paragraph sooo yeah. Plus, I like to think that Latvia and Moldova probably grew pretty close to each other during the Soviet Union days, seeing as they were the two "little ones" I suppose. (Although, in general, I do feel like Latvia would've hung around Estonia and Lithuania more, seeing how his age and maturity level are much closer to theirs than to Moldova's. But anyway.) I don't know...I just wanna see more content with these two cuties just being friends with each other ok??

For this one, two of my hcs are joining forces to create one (hopefully) pretty humorous little fic. These hcs are: one, Latvia is a pretty big prankster; and two, Moldova is a goody-two-shoes and is lowkey a tattletale (though not in a malicious way at all; he's just trying to be good). I do honestly really like the end result of this one, though I think I got a little carried away with this story and may have made some of the characters a little ooc in the process, sorry 'bout that lol.

Ok, enough with this long ass author's note and onto the fic-

»»————-　➴　————-««

Latvia raced to the back of a chair, crouching down low and hiding behind it while also trying to hide his intense giggles. He watched as Ukraine went up to the pot in which she'd been cooking some soup—the same soup where Latvia had dumped a spoonful of spicy sauce in beforehand.

The woman did just as the Latvian had wanted her to—she picked up a spoon and dipped it into the pot to do a small taste test. The curly-haired boy bit his lip as he watched. Soon enough, she set the spoon down hurriedly, let out a noise that was halfway between a yelp and a surprised whistle, and shortly after began to cough lightly.

Latvia had to place his face between his knees to silence his laughter, his small body beginning to shake. Any sort of enjoyment he could get in this hell house, he would one hundred percent strive to get—and pulling small pranks like this on all the residents inside of it was just what he needed to accomplish that.

Soon, Latvia heard tiny footsteps and then a voice: "What's wrong, Sestra?" Moldova.

Ukraine let out another whistle and answered, "I don't know, the soup was really spicy for some reason." Latvia almost let out another snort at this, but caught himself just in time.

The teen heard a few more words of soft chatter and then footsteps coming up close behind him. Then, a pause. Latvia could already tell it was Moldova and got a bit nervous. The little boy tended to be, for lack of a better word, a bit of a tattletale—he was afraid the child would somehow find out what he'd done and go rat on him.

Sure enough, Latvia heard Moldova pull the table curtain back and crouch down to Latvia's level. "What are you doing down here?" he immediately asked curiously, sitting down on his knees as well.

Latvia turned to him and put a finger over his lips, trying to tell him to quiet down a little. "I'm hiding."

"Why are you hiding?"

Latvia bit his lip. "I...did something."

"Did what?"

He internally grumbled. The kid wouldn't let up now, would he? Latvia thought it might be a little okay to tell Moldova—he was, admittedly, kind of eager to show off what he'd done, to somebody. Even if it wasn't that big of a prank (especially compared to some of the other masterpieces he'd done in the past), he still thought it was funny. Plus, he could probably easily stop Moldova from tattling—all he figured he'd have to do was give him candy or something. "Okay—I put some spicy sauce in the soup Ukraine was cooking. As a prank." He bit his lip to keep from letting out a big laugh.

Moldova was much less amused—in fact, he looked more confused than anything. "Why?" he asked, brows furrowed.

Latvia didn't really know what to say; he just shrugged. "...Because it's funny."

"But that's bad," the boy pointed out, his tone turning a bit stern.

The teen sighed. "Yeah, I know...but it's funny."

Moldova gave Latvia one more quizzical look before slowly standing back up. "Ses—"

Latvia caught him, pulling him back down and covering his hand over his mouth. "Moldova!" he whisper-scolded through gritted teeth. "No."

Moldova looked over at Latvia, eyes wide. Finally, the teen released his hand from his mouth. "Latvia," he asked, "why did you do that? I only wanted to tell Sestra."

"No!" he responded. "It's a prank—you can't just tell her."

Moldova cocked his head to the side. "A prank?"

"Yeah—it's supposed to be funny."

"Funny?" the little boy asked. "I like funny things. Pranks aren't supposed to be bad though, are they?"

Latvia looked up. "Well, kind of. I'm technically not allowed to pull them—but I do anyway." Despite himself, he giggled a little at this.

Moldova blinked. "Why?"

Latvia placed his palm up to his cheek—this kid really asked a lot of questions, didn't he? "Because it's funny."

"Well, I wanna have fun too." Moldova sat for a few moments, looking down, as if thinking. Then, he pursed his lips and motioned for Latvia to come closer, to which the teen did. "...I kind of wanna try a prank, just a little one," he whispered into his ear. "Not one that's too bad, though."

Latvia contemplated this a bit. It would be fun to have a small partner-in-crime to his mischief—especially one as young as Moldova, whom he could hopefully mold and shape to be his sort of sidekick. He grew a little smirk. "Okay."

Moldova gasped in delight and clapped his hands. "Yay! What should we do first, Latvia?"

Latvia rubbed his chin, before getting a good idea. "I've got it." He grabbed the Moldovan's small sticky hand. "C'mon, let's go."

»»————-　➴　————-««

"Okay, so you have to be very quiet before he comes—got it?"

"Mhm!" Moldova replied obediently, grinning from ear to ear at the older boy.

The two had placed one of Moldova's stuffed bears—the one that said I love you! when the stomach was pressed—on a seat at the dining room table, where Estonia was about to sit, as he was in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee and a newspaper. The hope was that he would be surprised by it and jump out of his seat. Nothing very exciting, Latvia knew that—it was mainly because Moldova had been very picky about what kind of pranks he wanted to pull, as most of the ones Latvia suggested were deemed 'too bad.'

The two boys watched from behind the door in the small office across from the dining room in anticipation. Soon enough, Estonia walked in and was about to sit in the chair he always sat in, the one containing the bear. He flopped his newspaper and prepared to sit down. Once his butt hit the bear, it activated that sickeningly-sweet high-pitched voice: I love you!

Startled, Estonia immediately sprang from his seat, gasping; he spilled his coffee all over the floor and his newspaper tumbled to the ground.

Latvia and Moldova began to cackle at this hilarious sight (still trying to keep their voices down, which was difficult); Latvia held out his hand for a high-five, which Moldova gladly accepted.

Estonia must've heard this, as amidst wallowing in the mess he'd just made, he crept over toward the door of the office, poking his head into it and seeing the two boys. He cocked an eyebrow. "...What are you two doing in here?"

Latvia was about to make up some petty excuse before Moldova spoke first: "Haha! Haha!" he exclaimed, still giggling. "You got pranked!"

Estonia was still a little confused until he realized: they must've set that bear down purposefully on the chair (he already figured Moldova had done it, though he'd thought the little boy had just accidentally left it there after playing with it). He then put his hands on his hips and grew a bit of an angry look on his face—they'd made him spill coffee on the floor and ruined his newspaper, for crying out loud! "Well," the Estonian began, "hate to say this, but you two are gonna be the ones to clean up the coffee."

Latvia had been laughing right along with Moldova, though when he heard Estonia say that he immediately grew a cross look as well. "Aw, no fair!" he argued. "You're the one who spilled the coffee! You clean it up!"

To his surprise, little Moldova backed him up. "Yeah, you clean it up, Estonia!"

Latvia looked down at the small boy and he couldn't help but crack a smile despite himself, thinking it was quite cute how he was mimicking him.

Estonia gave the two an annoyed glare. Latvia backtalking him wasn't really that out of the ordinary, but Moldova? The kid who literally asked every morning if he could take out the trash? Okay, now that was ridiculous. He groaned and, now out of options, he turned around and shouted, "Ukraine!" If there was anyone who would back him up and make the two clean up the mess, it was her.

Latvia clicked his tongue and immediately jumped up to run after Estonia, already complaining. Moldova hurried up and followed him, parroting him again.

Soon enough, the trio had all stormed over to Ukraine, who was sitting in the living room reading a book. She set the book down and got up as she began to hear their complaints, throwing her hands up in the air. "Goodness, what is going on here?" she asked.

Estonia shifted his glasses and began to speak, now gaining his composure and standing up straight (Fake, Latvia thought to himself as he saw this): "Latvia and Moldova tried to pull a prank on me," he began. "They sat one of Moldova's bears down on the chair—you know, the one that Russia bought for him that says I love you when you press on its stomach?—yeah, they sat that one down in the chair and I sat in it; it scared me and I jumped and ended up spilling coffee everywhere." He cleared his throat and concluded, "So they made me spill the coffee, therefore they should clean it up. But they won't."

"Oh, please. We didn't make you spill the coffee," Latvia protested loudly. "That's ridiculous."

Estonia began to argue back with Latvia, before Ukraine stomped her foot lightly and demanded, "Quiet!"

The two teenagers obeyed. Ukraine stood with her hands on her hips then, her face angry as she turned to Estonia. "Latvia and Moldova pulled a prank on you and made you spill a cup of coffee," she repeated crossly. "Yeah, I really believe they did that."

"But the—" Estonia began to say before Ukraine interrupted again.

"They act like they didn't do it," she said. "Especially Moldova. Look at him! How could you blame a little kid for such a thing?"

The group turned their eyes toward the said boy, who had his arms folded, eyes widened, and lips pouted, looking as innocent as ever (even though he'd been a more-than-willing accomplice, of course).

"But!—" Estonia said, before sighing, deciding it was pointless. Then, Ukraine went to the laundry room, picked up a mop and a bucket, walked back, and handed it toward Estonia. The bespectacled blond sighed again, taking it and going into the dining room to clean his mess. All the while Latvia was standing behind them, his hands tightly clamped over his mouth to avoid rolling on the floor in laughter. Moldova stayed just as he was, analyzing this interaction curiously and carefully.

Ukraine stood in the doorway between the living room and the dining room, watching Estonia. In the living room, Moldova watched Latvia closely. "Are you about to laugh?" he asked, tilting his head a little to the side as he looked up at the teen.

Latvia took his hands away for a brief moment, biting his lip, before nodding vigorously.

Moldova paused for a few moments, still staring at Latvia, before asking, "Is it as funny as when you put that spicy sauce in Sestra's soup?"

Moldova had said that loudly, loudly enough for Ukraine herself to hear; the woman turned around slowly, giving Latvia the same look she'd just given Estonia a few minutes prior.

Latvia stared ahead in absolute shock, feelings of dread mixed with anger simmering through him. Oh. My. God. Moldova truly hadn't learned anything, had he?

»»————-　➴　————-««

Soon enough, Latvia was in the dining room alongside Estonia, helping him clean the mess on the floor—it had gotten practically everywhere, apparently (how much coffee did Estonia seriously drink?) and it was very sticky. So, in short, it was not too fun to clean up. There was also the newspaper to worry about, which had its papers scattered all across the floor too.

And where was Moldova at that moment? Sitting at the dining room table, munching on a batch of cookies Ukraine had baked for him and drinking cold milk. A long milk mustache got caught on his top lip more than once, with every time Ukraine quickly dashing over to clean it up with a napkin.

Fun for him, Latvia thought sarcastically as he swept his mop through another stain. Whatever happened to partners in crime? He guessed telling the truth and mint chocolate cookies tasted more appetizing.

#hetalia #hetaliaplatonicshipsweek #hetalia event #hetalia fanfiction #fanfiction #aph latvia #aph moldova #hws latvia #hws moldova

13 notes · View notes

robinrunsfiction · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Could you write a vampire gerard x reader one day..? And it's kind of fluffy with Gerard being overprotective or jealous? If so thank you and have a good day!!

Vampire-tine’s Day 2021 - Day 2

Pairing: Vampire Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~2,000 Author’s Note: When I started this request, I kinda missed the “fluffy” part and the beginning part was angsty AF. But! Luckily I have @mariawritesfanfic in my life (for like a billion reasons) who gave me an idea, direction, and helped me basically get this story where it is today! Hope you all enjoy! Also sorry it’s late, I didn’t intend to put this one up tonight, but I failed to get the one I meant to post today done sooo

It was another bitterly cold night, but Gerard couldn't feel it, and it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was him was making sure (YN) got home safely. He watched from the shadows and the rooftops as she approached her building, but in the distance Gerard heard something that caught his attention. In a flash, the monster was in front of her fangs gleaming and Gerard launched into action as well.

“Don’t touch her,” Gerard snarled as jumped in front of (YN).

“I won’t hesitate to go through you to get to her,” the vampire snapped back. “I want a fresh meal, and this one smells delicious.”

Gerard heard a small whimper behind him before he threw himself at the offending creature. It wasn’t long before the monster, weak from hunger, gave up, running off to tend to his wounds.

“(YN),” Gerard murmured as he turned to find her still frozen in fear, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Ge-Gerard?” She stammered. “Gerard, what was that? What are you?!”

“I can explain, but let’s get inside before he comes back. Can I come inside with you?”

(YN) nodded as she reached in her bag with shaking hands to pull out her keys.

“Gerard, can you please explain what just happened?” (YN) asked when she shut the door behind them.

Gerard sighed. “There’s been a rise in vampire attacks, and I know you work late so I’ve been watching to make sure you get home safe.”

(YN)’s face softened at his words, before she was shaking her head in confusion again. “Vampire attacks?! And how have I never noticed you behind me? Are you telling me you’re a,” she trailed off.

“Vampire? Yea, I probably should have mentioned it before,” Gerard replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "To be fair, I'd only just gotten turned when we met."

“Well this answers a lot of questions I’ve had,” (YN) murmured to herself as she made her way to the couch, lost in thought.

“What?”

“Huh? Nothing!” She replied quickly, blushing as she looked up at him. “But how do you keep yourself from wanting to bite me?”

Gerard swallowed hard. He wanted to close the distance between them and take her in his arms and show her how he felt, but he couldn’t. All he could do was be mostly honest. “Because I’d be devastated if anything happened to you. More than anything I want to keep you safe.”

(YN) ducked her head awkwardly, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. “I can’t ask you to follow me around forever like my own personal bodyguard.”

“There is another way, but I’d understand if you wanna say no. Please don’t feel like you have to do this,” he said starting to pace nervously.

“Wha-what is it?” She asked, her voice sounding a bit strained.

“It’s called a protection mark. It’d help me sense when you’re in a dangerous situation, and I could be there in a flash to help protect you.”

(YN) nodded thoughtfully, taking in his words. “But you wouldn’t know everything I’d be thinking or feeling or doing, right?”

“Right,” he nodded. “Just when you need protecting.”

“I… I guess that would be a good idea,” she replied.

“If you aren’t sure, you don’t have to,” he reassured her.

“No! I, I mean, I think it’d be the best idea. I’d really not like to be bitten by a vampire.”

Gerard winced. “Umm… that’s part of the process.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her hand going to her neck protectively.

“It won’t be deep, just a small wound, I promise.”

“And you won’t turn into a bloodthirsty monster?”

“No, I’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said softly, sitting down next to her.

(YN) nodded. “Ok, I trust you, Gerard.”

Gerard took a steadying breath and leaned in, feeling overwhelmed with nerves. He knew how to do this, Ray had explained it all before, but being this close to (YN) in this context was something else all together. He tried to ignore the vampire instincts screaming in his brain about how good her blood smelled, how amazing it would taste, that’s not what he was doing.

He bared his fangs, and sank into the soft skin of (YN)’s neck. She let out a whine that turned into a whimper and he wanted to stop, but he had to make the wound deep enough. As he drew back, the taste of her blood hit his tongue and he had to stop himself from drinking more.

“The worst is done,” he said encouragingly to her. She opened her eyes and he smiled, hoping to reassure her.

“You can, umm, the bit that’s bled, you can have it,” she said, stumbling over her words, cheeks heating up at the offer.

Gerard’s heart would have been beating a mile a minute if he was still a human. He leaned back in and carefully licked away the small rivulets of blood. It was better than anything he could have imagined. The best meals he had as a human were nothing compared to her.

Once the bleeding stopped, he brought his fingertip to his fang, piercing the skin. It took a moment for a bead of blood to pool up before he held it over the wound, allowing it to drip in. He drew another droplet and let it fall into the other hole.

“My blood is now mixed in yours,” he explained softly, looking up at her again. “Not enough to turn you into a vampire, but just enough for me to know when you’re in danger.”

“Now what?” She asked just as softly.

“You don't need me hanging around you anymore, so I can go,” he said, getting up.

“No,” she said quickly, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "I mean, you can stay and hang out if you want. I'd love to hear about being a vampire, if you wouldn't mind telling me about it."

Gerard smiled and sat back down next to her. "Yea, I don't really get to talk about it much. What do you wanna know?"

Gerard stayed until just before dawn, having spent all night talking with (YN). They'd been friends for a while, but no longer having to hide his true identity made him feel even closer to her. It also did nothing to help the crush he had on (YN), as well as his instinct to protect her at all costs.

When he returned to his basement apartment, he typed out a quick message to Ray, letting him know what happened that night and climbed into bed. But sleep wasn't coming anytime soon, as all he could think about was (YN).

A few nights later, Gerard was walking into a party at someone's house. He wasn't the type to go out without good reason, but a text from (YN) inviting him was more than good enough.

"Gerard!" She called when she saw him, waving him over.

"Hey," he smiled as he reached her. She threw her arms around him, giving him a tight hug, before pulling back sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess I missed you," she laughed nervously.

He smiled back. "That's ok, I missed you too. You've been ok?"

"Yea. So far so good I think," she shrugged and that's when Gerard realized he was holding her hand. He wasn't even sure when it happened, but he liked the way they fit together. "I haven't had to work as late so I'm not walking alone in the dark, but I'm still glad to know you're there if I need you."

They settled into a comfortable, easy conversation, as if they were the only two people in the entire party.

"Hey Gee. Gee… Gerard Way!" Ray shouted, finally getting Gerard's attention.

"What?" Gerard asked a little annoyed, and (YN) giggled.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Ray asked.

"Yea, sure," he said, giving (YN) 's hand a reassuring squeeze before following Ray out to the back deck.

Outside, Ray's breath came out in clouds, filling the bitter night air. Gerard noted that the moon was nearly full and that meant the werewolves would be out in a night or two and he should warn (YN), just to be safe.

“How’s it going with (YN)?” Ray asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Everything seems fine so far,” Gerard replied hesitantly.

“But?”

“You know that I’ve had feelings for her for a long time, but ever since giving her that protection mark,” Gerard trailed off.

“Oh Gerard,” Ray sighed.

“What?!”

“You didn’t know tha-”

“Wait, shit, I think (YN)’s in trouble,” Gerard cut his friend off.

“At a party?” Ray asked skeptically, watching his friend run back inside.

Gerard pushed through the crowd, as if being led by an invisible thread to (YN). When he found her, she was backed into a corner, a tall, hulking man was looming over her, and she was clearly very uncomfortable and nervous.

“Gee!” She exclaimed when she spotted him.

“(YN), are you ok? Is this guy bothering you?” Gerard asked.

“She’s fine,” the man snarled. “She doesn’t need any help from some greasy dork like you.”

“She’s not, and you need to leave her alone,” Gerard said trying to keep his voice calm.

“Make me,” the other man laughed darkly.

Gerard stepped forward and shoved him with all of the strength he could muster, launching the jerk across the room. His friends, noticing the commotion, started to make their way to where Gerard was standing protectively in front of (YN) once again.

“Hey Gee, let’s get outta here!” Ray called from by the door. Gerard grabbed (YN)’s hand and led her quickly out of the house. Once they were away from the party and certain they weren’t being followed, the three of friends settled into a comfortable pace

“Are you ok?” Gerard asked, squeezing (YN)’s hand.

“Yea, thanks,” she smiled. “How’d you know I needed help back there? Was it the protection mark?”

“I think so?” Gerard replied, turning to look at Ray, who sighed again, stopping under a streetlight.

“I tried to explain this to you Gee, but I think you were a bit distracted,” Ray explained in an amused tone, shooting a glance toward (YN). “While the protection mark alerts the protector to when the bearer of the mark is in danger, it will also increase the bond between the protector and the bearer. Ya know, enhance anything that is already there.”

Gerard glanced over at (YN), she was already looking at him, and they both looked away nervously.

“Anyway, this is my place, I’ll see you two later,” Ray said, with a wave and heading up to the building they were in front of, leaving (YN) and Gerard alone.

“I’m sorry (YN), I wasn’t paying attention when Ray explained it all to me. I didn’t mean to make you, I mean, all I wanted,” he groaned, hanging his head in defeat.

“Gerard,” she said, reaching out and tilting his head up so she could look in his eyes. "You can tell me."

"I just like you so much, I asked Ray for advice and I got distracted imagining being your hero when he was explaining everything," he laughed, but his voice was tinged with sadness. He had a feeling (YN) was about to ask him to leave her alone forever.

But she was smiling softly up at him, her hand still resting gently on his cheek. That's when she leaned in, pressing her lips to his sweetly. The moment took him aback for a moment, but when he realized what was happening, he kissed her back with every bit of emotion he had been holding for her in his cold, unbeating heart. When she pulled back she was blushing lightly.

"Gee, remember what Ray said? It enhances feelings that are already there. I already liked you too. And now I know you like me back."

Gerard grinned. "Do you wanna come over to my place, it's not far."

"I'd love to," she smiled. "Hey, look, it’s almost the full moon. I don't have to worry about werewolves running around, do I?" She laughed.

Gerard just wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him as they headed down the street. "Oh (YN), I think I have a lot to tell you."

#Anon #gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #vampire gerard way x reader

80 notes · View notes

deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Courtship: Invitation

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings: mentions of blood | depictions of firearms/firearm handling | mentions of hunting

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

“Here,” Sam hands you a thick envelope. “Your pay, as usual.”

You trust Sam not to go behind your back and the mutual agreement set between you two, but you make sure to grab and stop him from walking away with all your produce just yet. You need to count the money he's handed over and ensure every last madol is where it should be. Thankfully, it is, but there are a few extra bills you know aren’t supposed to be in there.

You remove the extra money and hand it back to him. “You gave me too much.”

He pushes your hand back and shakes his head. “Consider this my holiday gift for you.”

You give him an incredulous look. “You sure? Because if you come back here next week telling me I owe you money I’m going to sick the wolves on you.”

Your threat is met with a hearty laugh from the shopkeeper. “Have I ever done you wrong, my friend?”

“Yes, you have actually.”

“Haha, good times indeed!” He casually waves at you as he hauls away your vegetables on a large wooden cart. “Happy holidays!”

You have half a mind to remind him that the holiday season is over. Instead, you decide that it’s best to just turn around and walk away. The money is in your hands and your produce is in his care and that's all there is to it. This season's harvest is now officially concluded and you can start prepping for the spring. After a long-deserved rest, of course. The few extra madols give you just a little more than what was needed to put down for a brand new generator for the dorm. You have a model already picked out ahead of time. All that's left is to order and wait for it to come in.

"Well?" Benji floats up to you as soon as you enter the front door. "Do we have enough?"

You proudly wave the envelope in the air. "We have enough and then some!"

Your housemates cheer and pull you into a group hug. Frankie takes the envelope from you and heads out, most likely heading to the safe you’ve hidden from Grim so he can put all the money together and deposit it at the nearest bank. Once the ghosts come down from their brief celebratory high, you excuse yourself and head to the backyard where Malleus is waiting for you.

"I'm back!" you happily announce your arrival.

"Welcome back," he smiles up at you. "Did you get your payment?"

"I did!" you nod. "Frankie's taking it to the bank, so I should be able to get that new generator before sunset."

"That's good. It'll be one less problem for you to worry about."

"You can say that again," you sigh. "Thanks for your help today. I'm surprised we managed to pick and clean everything up before noon!"

You situate yourself next to Malleus, who's sitting down on the low porch. Gunter's pups have been following him since breakfast and you don't think they'll be off his heels for some time. It's been like this since they were born. One might even be able to say that they like him more than they do you. Malleus doesn't show it or verbally express it, but you can tell he enjoys their attachment to him. He allows them to jump all over him and drench him in wet kisses without much of a fuss. Who knows, when they grow older they just might start following and taking orders from him rather than you. Maybe he won't need Sebek and Silver to follow him anymore if they stick around?

You can imagine Sebek being incredibly offended that a bunch of wild wolves took his job.

Malleus looks at you. "Have you given them names yet?"

"The pups?" you ask for clarification. "I've been meaning to, but my head can’t think of any. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them."

Malleus mulls over your offer. He picks up one pup at a time, trying to think of an appropriate name to give them. After about 10 minutes his shoulders go slack and he looks back over to you with disappointment. "I'm afraid I'm drawing a blank as well."

"Well, you gave it a shot," you clap your hand on his shoulder. "Tell you what. Once we get that new generator, we can sit down and do a bit of name-brainstorming over some tea."

"Yes, that sounds lovely," he smiles again, and you start to realize that he has a damn good smile. "When do you want to get together?"

"Sometime next week. With the extra money Sam gave me I can get the generator in faster!"

Malleus seems momentarily excited, but it quickly dies as he suddenly realizes something. "Can we meet the week after next? I have something important coming up."

"Sure," you say. "What's happening next week?"

"It's…" he hesitates. "It's my birthday next week."

Your eyes pop wide open. "Oh shit, for real?"

"Indeed."

One of the pups desperately tries to jump up onto the porch, but his stubby legs and meager strength aren't enough to push him over the edge. As you reach down and help him up, you ask, "How come I'm only hearing about your birthday now?"

Malleus carefully lifts the other pups onto the porch as well. "You never asked me."

"No kidding", you snort. "To be honest, I thought that maybe you didn't celebrate it anymore since you're hundreds of years old. Don't birthdays lose their novelty after a few centuries?"

"They do,” he agrees “I haven't had a grandiose party since I was about your age."

"Wow," your eyebrows lift in shock. "That's just rude."

He suddenly looks so terrified. "I didn't mean it-"

"I'm kidding!" you quickly reassure him. "Lighten up Tsunotarou! I'm not going to shoot you for poking a bit of fun at me."

"So you say," he grumbles.

"I'm not!" you defensively shrill. "If you're talking about the time I shot at those sea worms, I had every right to! No way in hell was I gonna be intimidated into giving my dorm up. Not now. Not ever."

Those "sea worms" you're referring to are Jade and Floyd Leech from Octavinelle. During exams week, Ace Deuce and Grim as well as many other students who made a deal with Azul for his infamous study guides practically kissed the very ground you walked on in order to convince you to rescue them from their dubious contracts. Initially, you refused their request no matter how much they pleaded or bothered you. It wasn't until Jade and Floyd caught onto this bit of information (it’s hard to ignore a dozen students following you around like a bunch of chicks) that they began to set their sights on you. The two tried to squeeze you into a deal that would release everyone who signed a contract with Azul for his infamous cheat sheet, so long as you could keep up your end of the bargain.

It was clearly too good to be true or fair. Nevertheless, you decided to at least listen and attempt to negotiate some sort of proposal that would make both sides happy, if only to have your intruded space restored to normal. Unfortunately, Azul wouldn't settle for anything less than your dorm, which you refused to hand over despite Grim's OK to put it up for grabs. Jade and Floyd insisted you agree to the terms for the sake of your friends and fellow schoolmates, but you bluntly told them something that, to this day, never fails to make Malleus giggle even when he's in a foul mood.

"You're not getting my fucking dorm! Not now! Not ever!"

Unfortunately, Jade and Floyd began to follow you around too and even went as far as to visit your dorm during unconventional hours, on a regular basis. Their insistent arguments began to turn into veiled threats, and you aren't the type of person to take them all too well. Malleus remembers visiting you one day only to find you out on the roof, your hunting rifle in hand, keeping a vigilant eye out towards the gates for the Leech twins to make their expected visit. Malleus knew that your weapon is a dangerous one when used correctly, but he did not expect as much power behind it as it had until you shot a couple of live rounds near the merfolk's feet.

His ears still ring thinking about that powerful discharge.

"Where is your rifle?" he asks. "Also, where is your falcon?"

"Twilight? She's still upstairs in her cage." You make a vague gesture towards the second floor.

Twilight is a falcon that you found during one of your hunting trips, having suffered a nasty injury to her wing. You have some experience with falconry so you immediately recognized her mannerism as that of a hunting falcon as well as her breed, an Aplomado. You tried to find her original handler while you nursed her back to health, but unfortunately, no one came forward to claim her and you decided to keep her. You and her bonded very easily, so rehabilitating and training her to take commands from you was a breeze. While you expected her to maybe leave your side once she was able to properly fly again, she remains determined to stick with you.

You stand up and turn towards the back door. "I should probably wake her up before she gets mad at me.”

"I'll watch over these while you do that," Malleus grabs one of the pups who topples over another and refuses to get off of them.

"Thanks!" You bend down and give him a quick one-armed hug from behind. "You're the best!"

As you're about to head back into your home, you stop at the door and turn back around. "Are you sure you want me to bring my rifle?"

"Do you not want to bring it out?"

"I don't mind bringing it. It's just, not everyone likes to be around guns."

Malleus nods in understanding. "Well, I'm not like everyone," he playfully remarks.

"No, you're not," you smile. "I'll be right back then."

"Take your time," he assures you.

"Rise and shine pretty bird!"

You lift the dark sheet off of her cage so she can bask in the morning light. Twilight was busy preening herself, but now that you're in her sight she begins to happily screech and shuffles closer to the door, eagerly awaiting for you to open it so she can jump on you.

You quickly slip on your handling gloves and help her transfer from her perch to your hand. Her sharp talons tightly grip around the sides of your fingers, but the thick leather prevents them from piercing your raw flesh. You snap your fingers a couple of times to get her attention focused solely on you. When she maintains steady eye contact with you, you reach into your pocket and present your other gloved palm to her. In it are some bacon bits you managed to snag from the leftovers of this morning's breakfast. She eagerly pecks and munches down the small meal.

"It still isn't the best time to go hunting, but how's about I let you out anyways and you can stretch your wings for a bit?"

She expands her wings and flaps them a few times, a sign that she's eager to take you up on your offer. You haven't taken her out to hunt for about a month, mainly because you were gone half of the time. The winters here are especially harsh, even with a bunch of fire faeries keeping the campus somewhat warmer. The pickings are also dry since most of the wildlife on the island are sticking close to their burrows to stay warm and wait out the season.

You've been itching to head out into the forest recently, but winter is usually a bad hunting season for you. Luckily, you've met and befriended a few of the locals on the island who live off the bounty of the land as you do. They tend to look out for one another and offer help during difficult times, and the barren winter is no exception. You make a mental reminder to reach out and ask where some of the best hunting spots on the island are once this generator fiasco is all taken care of.

"Now, you wouldn't happen to know where my rifle is, do you?" you ask her. When she goes to nibble a piece of your hair, you know that she has no clue.

As you're about to head down to the foyer (you often leave it there), a sudden squeaking noise catches both Twilight and your attention. There, at the other end of the hall, a beady-eyed Jerboa bounces up and down in a steady rhythm in an attempt to grab your attention.

Scarabia wasn't entirely traumatizing. You met Gizmo, the Jerboa before you, during one of the exhausting desert marches, nearly dead from severe dehydration. The little guy brought you a bit of comfort throughout the entire ordeal. He also was able to bring you the enchanted envelope Malleus gave you before he went back home for the winter break. It immediately sends any letter you place inside it to him once you set it on fire. How else could you have contacted him after your phone was conveniently confiscated after your first escape attempt?

"Good morning, little guy," you smile down at him. "You wouldn't happen to know where my gun is, do you?"

It seems he does, as he turns and begins to race down the adjacent hall. He stops every so often to look back at you, making sure you're still keeping up with him. Eventually, he stops in front of a door to one of several lounging areas. This one, in particular, is more the ghosts' lounge than anyone else's. It's filled with all sorts of memorabilia and photos from the dorm's heyday. The ghosts have shared a few stories about the shenanigans they got in when they were both alive and students at NRC. Interestingly enough, the dorm was a sort of "halfway home" for students undergoing the difficult process that is switching to another dorm. The idea was to separate the student from those of their originally assigned dorm so they can better learn and adopt the characteristics of the dorm they wish to transfer into.

Soon enough, the dorm began to house more and more people. A common feeling amongst the residents of the past was a feeling of displacement or disconnection towards the other formal dorms and the ideals they upheld. While not approved by the headmaster, the residents began to form a sort of pseudo dorm with its own set of principles as well as assigning a dorm leader and vice leader just as the others did. Nothing was ever written in stone, but the ghosts vouched that the main “characteristics” amongst Ramshackle’s past residents was a desire to establish camaraderie with those around them, no matter their background or origins.

Listening and learning what the Ramshackle once meant to them and so many others hit home for you. You lived near a small rural town, surrounded by people who were willing to share their resources with their neighbors and even the occasional stranger simply because it was a kind thing to do for one another. The students of NRC are willing to put their heads together, sure, but there almost always has to be some sort of catch that benefits the individual.

Living with students like that is stressful as hell. Somedays you just skip school entirely, having already gone through the many woes and few wonders of high school back in your world. You have zero patience to deal with people who only view each other (and subsequently you) as inferior or a mere stepping stone to trample over. Ace and Deuce are your friends and have proven that they are "exceptions" so to speak. However, they're still just a couple of kids. No matter how well you three communicate and work well with each other, there's just a natural disconnection you feel with them that not even magic can fix.

It makes your close connection with Malleus, someone who's centuries older than you, incredibly ironic. You've essentially had your life figured out back home, and in some strange serendipitous way, so does Malleus. He's going to become king of his home country immediately after or sometime after he graduates, while you were going to continue living that nice rural lifestyle you lived back home, alongside your 3 aunts and many cousins. At least, once Crowley finds a way to send you back.

Maybe that's why his confession felt so much more confusing and intensely when it happened. Everything seemed so linear before he uttered those three words to you. Now, it feels like the clear and concise timeline you've had pictured in your head for months is just one big blob of scribbles and nonsense.

"Am I doing something wrong?" you desperately ask Frankie. "Because it feels like I made some huge mistake and now it's coming back to bite me in the ass right now."

"Of course you haven't done anything wrong," he rubs your shoulder reassuringly.

"Then why does it feel like everything around me is slowly falling apart?" You're sobbing at this point. The cigar you took from him earlier is now abandoned, snuffed out in the ashtray. "Why does it feel like I'm falling apart?"

"Nu-uh," he shakes his head and gives you a stern look. "We're not gonna do none of that. Do you hear me? None."

"Then what the hell do I need to do?!" you shriek. "Frankie, I'm fucking losing it here. I'm one more backhanded dismissal away from kicking Crowley's teeth in. I swear, if one more overblot happens, so help me. I can't deal with someone else's problems when I can't even get a full night of rest anymore!"

"You've done nothing wrong, you hear me?" he reaffirms. "I get it, I do. Right now, life is handing you a bad hand and you don't have the people you usually rely on for support. I've been there kiddo. We all have. We may not be like your aunts or your loud-ass cousins,"

A smile finally cracks on your face. He's using your own words you've used to describe your younger family members. You love the little tykes, but they can be a handful sometimes.

Damn, you miss them, your aunts too. They're all that you have left after a messy custody battle with your parents. This garden. Your rifle. Hell, even your insistence at taking over many of the household chores have all been your desperate attempts of finding some sort of familiarity in this new and strange world.

"But remember, those in Ramshackle stick together and help each other out when they're in a pinch. We'll handle all the little stuff, the cooking, the cleaning, the occasional clogged pipe," he scoffs, annoyed just thinking about the pipes clogging up again. They've been doing it a lot lately and everyone in the house is incredibly over it. "Right now, your only priority is yourself. Okay?"

It takes you a moment to really take in his words, but eventually, you nod in understanding. "Alright," you affirm out loud.

He squeezes your shoulder. "Good."

A sharp and muffled whistle pulls your attention away. Johnny's voice is a little hard to make out, but you're able to make out "generator working" and "warm coffee".

"C'mon," Frankie holds open the glass door and ushers you outside. "I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee."

"I could use two," you sigh.

He gives one last squeeze around your shoulder. For a moment, it feels like you're back home. You feel a little better too. A little bit more secure.

As you enter the room, you see that Benji, and Johnny are gathered for the usual late morning/early afternoon poker matches.

"Hey, prefect," Benji, the first one to notice your entrance, greets. "Need something?"

"Have you seen my rifle?" you look around the room for any immediate sign of it. "It's been a while since I used it and I've completely lost track of it."

"Should be under one of the floorboards here," Johnny, who is playing busy rearranging his cards, says. "If not, try the floorboards in the living room."

You thank him and begin carefully stepping and tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards, trying to find and search one of many secret spaces made back in Ramshackle's glory days. Nothing dangerous (you hope) was ever hidden. It was mainly used by the students who lived here during its heyday to hide bottles of alcohol and cigarettes. You know, the typical items a bunch of teenage outcasts would keep around.

There was actually a bottle of some rare and expensive wine that was left behind as the number of residents began to dwindle. You and the ghosts are waiting for the right occasion to crack it open and enjoy the vintage-like a bunch of fiends. Grim won't be having any. Hell no.

Twilight has temporarily detached herself from your side and perches comfortably on Benji's shoulder. Her talons dig into his white spectral body, but he doesn't wince or show any sign that he's in any pain. She nibbles on his worn scarf to pass the time until you call her. Gizmo busies himself by helping you find all the secret spaces. He finds one and begins jumping over it more enthusiastically. When you pry the wooden slat up, you perk up as the familiar scent of old gunpowder fills your nose.

"There you are!" you practically sing when you lift the board and see your trusty gun. "And here I was thinking Benji lost you."

"I heard that!" he shouts, deeply offended.

"I know," you reply. "Glad to know that your hearing hasn't gone out yet. Had me worried for a while, gramps."

Johnny erupts in a symphony of loud laughter. While community and mutual respect were a value shared between Ramshackle residents, a bit of teasing and the occasional prank is always welcomed. It's a great way to keep morale up. It's also satisfying to say a remark that makes everyone laugh or have a prank go as planned. So long as no one got hurt, it's all fair game between you all.

You lift the heavy rifle out of the space and do a routine check. The internal magazine is empty and when you probe the back of the chamber with your pinky you don't feel a loaded round inside. You flip the safety on and off and pull the trigger a few times to make sure the mechanisms are working correctly. You also do a quick count of your ammunition. While guns do exist in this world, coming across bullets is much harder than it is in your world. This is mainly due to the reliance on magically sourced bullets that help reduce the use of resources. Their rarity makes them expensive, and the few blacksmiths who do make them usually don't sell to anyone unless they feel the buyer is a genuine enthusiast of their craft. The buyer also needs to have a license to own them, which you thankfully earned after a few safety lessons and a short exam.

Lucky for you, the one and only smith on the island who makes bullets was more than happy to provide you with some bullets at an affordable price after you allowed him to ogle your rifle for a few hours. It's an old model, supposedly used by your great grandfather after he was enlisted into the army. When the war ended and he was sent back home, he customized it so it can be used for hunting deers instead of people. Your first aunt Gia was always handling it. Whether she was taking it apart and putting it back together or out in the backyard doing some recreational target practice.

She always looked strong yet elegant carrying it around, not that she isn’t without it. During your first year living with her, you tried to imitate her, slinging some large stick you found out in the woods to try to exude the same energy she did. When your second aunt Lucia moved in with your cousins after her divorce, she was quick to reprimand you and confiscate any of the newly found branches you brought back home and waved around as an imaginary rifle. Your aunt Gia eventually began to teach you how to properly and safely handle her firearm. By the time your third aunt Marisol moved in after graduating from university, you were one hell of a sharpshooter and a damn good hunter.

With the rifle now deemed safe to take to Malleus, you sling it over your shoulder and make your way out of the room. You whistle the signal for Twilight to return to your side and she immediately heeds your command. Her obedience earns her a few more bits of bacon. Gizmo also wishes for some compensation for helping you locate your rifle. You make a quick trip to the kitchen and give him a few raisins to snack on. He's the only one who eats raisins in the dorm, so you don't skimp out on him.

Blossom does try to snag a few for himself, but a threatening screech from Twilight scares the gluttonous fawn away. That deer sure loves to eat.

"I'm back, again!" you announce as you reclose the back door behind you.

"Welcome back, again," Malleus regreets you. "And a good morning to you, Twilight."

Twilight also loves Malleus. She eagerly shifts her feet, desperately wanting to fly onto his arm and properly say hello. You let her transfer onto him once he slips on the safety glove you provide. After a few minutes of giving her loving neck scratches and trying to stop her from nipping at Malleus's ears (she likes them a lot and, now that you’re thinking about it, you do too), you take her back and help send her off into the air for some much needed soaring time.

"I see you brought your weapon," Malleus looks at your rifle with an examining eye.

"I did," you bring it around and into your arms. "Now, why did you want me to bring it again?"

"No reason in particular," he admits. "I just...I'm quite used to seeing you with it. You're never without it unless you're attending classes."

A proud smirk finds its way onto your face no matter how hard you try to hide it. "I'll take that as a compliment."

A potentially stupid idea pops up in your head. "Do you want me to teach you how it works?"

"Truly?" Malleus looks extremely shocked at your offer. "You dislike it greatly when another person touches it."

"I dislike it when people who don't know the first thing about gun safety touch my gun," you correct. "But count yourself lucky, because I know everything there is to know about this one right here!"

"Very well,” he gives a conceding nod. “Have at it."

This is the most excited you've ever been since waking up in the floating coffin all those months ago. While you aren't the biggest gun enthusiast out there (you only ever use it for hunting), you do like it when people show interest to learn about your hobbies. Ace and Deuce are teenagers, so it's no surprise that they don't exactly find the long and grueling labor that goes into gardening all that exciting. Your firearm is nothing more than a toy in their minds, though Deuce is a bit more serious than Ace is when it comes to safety.

Speaking of gun safety. "Now, I don't mean to nag but it's important to remember that, under no circumstances, are you to ever point a gun at anyone. Loaded or unloaded."

Malleus makes a face of confusion. "Then how come you pointed and shot at the Leech twins?"

"Hey," you put your hands up in defense. "I wasn't shooting at them. I shot at the ground and it just so happens that their feet were near my line of shot."

"Ah, I see," he chuckles at your convenient excuse. "So shooting near an individual is ok, so long as the bullet doesn't hit them."

"Exactly," you wink at him. "But seriously, don't point it at or near anyone. And don't look down the barrel. Lilia nearly gave me a heart attack when I caught him doing just that."

He closes his eyes and gives a deep nod like you just bestowed upon him a great piece of wisdom. "Duly noted."

"Next is the magazine," you turn and pull back the bolt handle to show him the empty magazine hidden underneath the bolt itself. "This is where you put the bullets. The magazine holds up to 4 bullets, 5 if you keep one loaded in the chamber. Since my gun is an older model, you can’t pop in an external magazine. Unless you're in a desperate situation, it's best to"

You look up to make sure Malleus is following along with your explanation. Maybe he is, but it's hard to tell when his eyes completely ignore the rifle you have set between the two of you and instead keeps his eyes focused solely on you. Your throat immediately dries up and you feel your heart begin to beat just a bit faster after it skips a beat. The look he's giving you is the same one he gave you at Scarabia, a content, and dazed smile. There's a hint of melancholy in his expression, evident by how the inner corners of his eyebrows turn upward.

He looks so at peace, yet so sad.

"What's wrong?" you ask, though you know full well what's making him feel that way he does.

He shakes his head in denial. The visual sadness goes away once he settles. "Nevermind me. Keep talking, please."

"R-Right," you stutter. "Where was I again?"

"You said your gun is an older model."

"Right," you remember. "Since the model is old, it's best not to reload too quickly, otherwise you risk jamming the gun and in some cases, you might break a mechanism."

You feel a faint vibration underneath your leg. Thinking it's your phone (now set back to vibration mode) you start to pat down your clothes to try and find the device. Surprisingly, it actually came from Malleus's phone. It keeps pulsing in fixed intervals, likely from someone calling him. He quickly pulls it out and clicks on the red reticle, sending the caller to voicemail without batting an eyelash. You couldn't see who was calling, but you swear their name started with an 'S'. Could it be Silver or Sebek calling? You hope it's not Sebek because once Malleus starts to manually decline his calls, the next person he usually rings up is-

You feel another vibration, this time it's coming from your phone that you apparently left in your back pocket. Lo and behold, it's Sebek that's calling you. You show your screen to Malleus, who makes a dramatically loud sigh of exhaustion. Sebek...While he's well-intentioned and has his charming points, he can be a bit of a handful...

Ok, that's too nice a way of putting it. Really, as passionate as he is, he can be a bit annoying to deal with sometimes. You're trying to be polite as you can be with him because you've been told that Faes offended easily and you're not going to be that asshole. Though, you’ll be the first to admit that he’s such an easy and fun target to joke around with. Blame the ghosts, their behavior is gradually rubbing off on you.

His protectiveness and the deep admiration he has towards Malleus is a little quirky, even cute at times. It reminded you of a child vehemently protecting their parent from their lover, not that you and Malleus are dating or anything.

Why did that last part feel weird to say in your head?

"Go ahead and answer," Malleus concedes. "I’m not entirely in the mood to listen to his shouting in the middle of the day."

"Oh, his heart would break if he heard you," you place a hand over your fake-pained heart. "You are such a cruel man, Great and Benevolent Malleus!"

The two of you erupt into a brief fit of laughter. After calming yourself down, you answer the phone. "Hello, you've reached the Ramshackle dormitory."

You have to turn away and cup your free hand around your mouth so the phone doesn't pick up Malleus's uncontrollable giggles.

"Human!” he shouts into the phone and you have to pull it back to alleviate your overwhelmed eardrum. “ If you would kindly put Lord Malleus on the phone, I would greatly appreciate it."

You look over to Malleus, but Sebek was loud enough that you don’t have to mouth anything to him. He gestures for you to hand the phone over to him, but you put your hand up to tell him to give you a moment.

"If you want to talk to Malleus, press two,” you blankly say. “Those are the rules."

"Human! I don’t have time for your terrible jokes!"

Malleus then gestures for you to hand over your phone. "Do as they say, Sebek," he calmly commands.

Your hands slap against your mouth to cover the loud and ugly screech you make when you hear the loud dial noise come right after.

The two talk for a while. It’s mainly Malleus listening to whatever Sebek is passionately rambling about while giving the occasional hum and idle acknowledgments. At one point during the call, he looks over to you and frowns. You mouth “what’s wrong?” but he shakes his head and looks away. Once he hangs up, he lets out a very stressful sigh and slumps a bit. He’s upset.

“Hey,” you move your rifle and scoot closer to him, giving him a gentle shoulder bump once you’re near. “Talk to me. What did Sebek say?”

“It’s nothing important,” he continues to dismiss. “Just a trivial matter.”

“ Malleus,” your voice becomes stern. “C’mon, talk to me.”

He tends to downplay his troubles since he thinks they pale in comparison to the many other aspects going on in his life (being royalty can’t be easy). When it was clear that you were more than just an acquaintance, Lilia gave you a bit of advice about Fae behavior so you can better communicate with Malleus and get him to open up to you. Faes cannot lie, but they can give half-truths, and, depending on how powerful one is, they can tell white lies. It took a bit of work, but eventually, you gained enough of Malleus' trust as well as reassured him that you won't up and abandon him for simply voicing his opinions or feelings, even if you might disagree with him.

“You first,” he says insistently.

Also by the advice\of Lilia, you have a bit of an ongoing exchange with Malleus. For every instance he bears his inner thoughts and feelings to you, you have to tell him something about yourself that others don’t know about.

Have all your facts been embarrassing admittances? Yes, they have.

“No offense, but aren’t Fae notorious for being a bit...y’know?”

“Mischievous?” Lilia snickers.

“Right,” you cross your arms in an attempt to provide yourself with a bit of comfort. Lilia’s casual demeanor surely isn’t helping you. “Telling Malleus all my innermost secrets is surely going to come back and bite me in the future.”

“Well, in most circumstances you wouldn’t be wrong.” Suddenly his playful voice becomes firm and actually assuring for once. “However, there is no need for concern. I can say with certainty that whatever you tell Malleus, no matter how embarrassing or incriminating it is, will forever remain with him and him alone.”

The old Fae pats you on the head, despite being taller than him. “He cares deeply about, truly.”

That fuzzy feeling in your chest returns. Your hands have an itch to fidget with something to try and distract yourself. It ends up being a strand of your hair that gets blown in your face after an especially chilly gust of wind dishevels it. That’s when a small bulb lights up in your head.

“I hate the winter,” you admit. “The long nights throw me off and I have terrible luck running into wild game when I head out into the field. Really, it's cold weather that I hate in general.”

“Interesting,” Malleus clearly takes in and files away this new fact he’s learned in his head. “This likely isn’t a surprise, but I enjoy this time of the year.”

“What's winter in the Valley of Thorns like?”

Malleus, shocked at hearing your sudden interest in his home, begins to paint as detailed a picture as he can about the kingdom during the colder seasons. Greenery is a bit sparse given the Valley’s more mountainous terrain, but he insists that the thorn bushes you can find in nearly every corner of the land are beautiful in their own right. No matter the season, there’s always some amount of fog that dilutes the rays of the sun, so a day without one is often seen as a sign of good fortune by the people. Modern machinery is all but nonexistent as well, so there are no buildings, pollution, or lights to obscure the starry sky at night.

“Now it just sounds like I’m back home,” you let out a sad reminiscent sigh.

“What about your home? What is it like?”

“About the same as yours, except we got plenty of sunlight and we had lush forests instead of rocky cliffs. There was a small town about half an hour out, but most of the businesses there have been around since the ’50s.” You notice his confusion as your terminology, but a brief explanation of your world’s calendar clears it up.

“It sounds charming,” he says. “I’d love to visit it one day, should the opportunity present itself.”

“There’s an ice cream shop down the main avenue,” you mention, knowing how much he enjoys the cold treat. “The owners even change their selections every other day, but the rainbow sherbet is the best one they have!”

“Is that so?” he chuckles at your enthusiasm.

A sharp screech cuts your conversation into an abrupt close. That was without a doubt a signal from Twilight, letting you know that someone is walking up the pathway to the dorm. You aren’t expecting anyone, and Frankie is likely just arriving in town by now. You remember how Malleus seemed dejected after his call with Sebek.

Just as you connect the dots, Malleus stands up, brushing off any dirt and debris from his clothes. “I apologize, but I must head out now.”

“Already?” you ask with playful sadness. The fuzz in your chest dissipates into a dull ache. Weird.

“I need to go over my guest list for my birthday once more. Lilia insisted I send out handwritten invitations to immerse myself into the festivities.”

“That sounds about right.” After standing up yourself and insisting you’ll walk him out, you ask, “So when can I expect my invitation to come in?”

“You want to come? Even after,” he immediately stops himself from speaking.

Does he really think he messed up that badly with you?

“I do want to go,” you firmly tell him. “Even after everything that’s happened.”

There’s a brief silence between you two before he says, “You don’t have to force yourself.”

“I’m not,” you reassure him.

“So you say.”

“Malleus,” you sigh. “If there’s anyone scared about our friendship dissolving because of what happened, it’s me. I’m the one that’s keeping you in suspense, even now.”

The truth hurts, but no amount of shared laughs and the occasional antics between the two of you is going to magically dissolve the damage present. You’ve hurt him, and in a way, it’s hurting you as well. Life isn’t as linear as it was, but sulking and bringing the people around you down is a terribly selfish thing to do, especially towards someone you care a great deal about. You weren’t raised like that. You were taught to appreciate the little things and watch out for those around you. Not for personal gain, but because it was simply a kind thing to do.

This feeling of insecurity came before the winter break. Being around so many people whose ideals and actions clash with yours often succeeds at making you think that you’re the one in wrong, that you’re the helpless and naive one. That’s far from the truth. The community you’ve built with the ghost trio and the natives on Sage’s Island is proof that your values are shared with others.

It’s just like Frankie said, life is just serving you a bad hand right now. You can prevail and return to the better days. The better days when you and Malleus were the best of friends. But why does your heart hurt when you think about his confession for the umpteenth time? What’s making you so hesitant? More importantly, why couldn’t you tell him “yes”, yet you also knew you couldn’t tell him “no”?

As you watch Malleus and Sebek depart from your front door, making their way down the steps towards the front gates, you hastily announce that you’ll be back and begin running towards them.

You need to make things right.

Malleus noticed the way your hands sought something out to fidget with when you were feeling...he doesn’t know what that was. You weren’t feeling uncomfortable as far as he could tell.

Were you perhaps...flustered?

No, that can’t be it. You don’t think of him that way, he’s sure of now. When he quickly reassesses his behavior, he didn’t do anything that would warrant you to become nervous, other than look at you with a far too amorous gaze while you explained the ins and outs of your firearm. He couldn't help himself. Seeing you so passionate and animated, even if it's over something he has no knowledge or a particular interest in, made his heart flutter as well as ache yet again.

They fidget with the nearest object when they feel uncomfortable. Remember that.

“What was that, Lord Malleus?”

Sebek’s booming voice catches him off guard a bit, but he quickly recovers as if nothing disturbed him at all. “It’s nothing, just thinking aloud.”

“I see. In any case,” he quickly changes the subject. “The materials needed to write and send the invitation letters are all ready. Sir Lilia insists that you write each one on your own, but I am more than capable and willing to offer my assistance should you need it!”

“That’s quite alright. There aren’t a great many I need to send anyways,” Malleus gracefully rejects Sebek’s eager offer.

There really aren’t that many people who will be attending, just the residents of Diasomnia and that’s it. He initially had plans to invite you, but he’s caught between a rock and a hard place. You’ve expressed your desire to come, but he can’t help but feel that it’s only out of pity.

He doesn’t want that from you. At this point, he just wants things to return to how they once were before he opened his mouth and began to spew a bunch of one-sided nonsense. He just wants your friendship, pure and untainted like before.

Perhaps he’s destined to never have a friend after all.

“Malleus!” your distant voice calls out to him, causing him to stop in his tracks and turn around to search for you.

He doesn’t understand how you do it, but just hearing you call his name utterly burns away all the muddled thoughts circulating within his head. He is exceptional when it comes to defensive magic, yet whatever spell you manage to cast on him that makes him so taken by you, it exceeds even his own magical prowess.

But you don’t have any magic. Not even a speck courses through your veins. You’re just an average human. His nearly crippling infatuation is entirely his own doing.

"Oh, thank goodness you haven't made it past the front gates yet," you heaved out. Did you run all the way here? Did he forget something? He quickly pats his front pocket and feels a hard lump, his phone. It’s the only personal item he brought.

"Human," Sebek's voice sounds annoyed at your sudden presence. "What do you need from- AH!"

Sebek's scream hurts Malleus's ear, but the slight and momentary ring means little when you've wrapped your arms over his shoulders and pull him into a tight embrace. He immediately melts into your arms, smothering his face against the crook of your neck and taking in your scent like a desperate man. Despite the sweat you and he worked up from hours of labor, you still smell so nice, like fresh cotton and assorted herbs. It's unique. It's comforting.

It's you.

"One week," you whisper in his ear. "Give me one week. I'll have an answer for you then."

He pulls back and looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. "Pardon?"

"I've hurt you, badly." you look down in shame. "I still am, but I'm going to make it up to you. I promise"

"A promise made with a Fae is a dangerous thing, especially when you don't uphold your end of the deal," he says with a warning tone. "One week. Are you sure that's enough time?"

"It is," you say with certainty.

You're not one to lie or bite off more than you can stomach. You know when you've been beaten, that's why you called for his help over the break. His interpretation of trust differs greatly from yours, and it's not given to many, Fae or not.

"Very well,” he yields. “I will trust you to keep to your oath.”

“Thank you,” you squeeze him closer against you. “And I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just please, don't break my heart any further," he whispers pleadingly into your ear.

Apologies are dangerous words to say to a Fae, even a bit demeaning to some. The same with words of thanks, which you often say to him regularly. Malleus has developed a habit of accepting them out of courtesy. It's an aspect of his culture that you struggle to adjust to since it's interpreted differently in human society. You've also told him something he finds humorous, how your aunts constantly enforced you (in your words “beat it into you”) to say "please", "thank you", and “sorry”, as they didn't want others to think they were living in a crude household. It's incredibly ironic considering you tend to swear every other sentence.

You explained that "Thank you"s are acknowledgments of the efforts one makes for another, no matter how small or grandiose the gesture is. Apologies are acknowledgments that one has wronged another and wishes to make amends.

It sounds like common sense, but he understands now what you mean when you tell him "It's the little things that matter most". His heart was hurt when you couldn’t tell him “yes” or even a simple “no”. He's still suffering from the aftermath of his confession, even as he signs off on the last of the invitations for his birthday party, his mind failing to commit to the enthusiastically written words. You've acknowledged that you see his pain and that you recognize that you're its source. Despite having other troubles of your own, you've made it clear that he's now been pushed up your long to-do list and that he's now your main priority.

It brings much-needed relief to his pained heart, though just a bit.

He waits until Sebek is gone before he rummages around his desk for a beige-colored envelope, the one he enchanted and gave to you so you can speak to him over the break (he preferred this method over text messages). It still has your SOS letter in it, written with your now aged and darkened blood.

Malleus. I'm sorry for the smell, but it's all I have on hand. I'm in Scarabia's dorm and they're not letting me leave. I've been here for a few days to help the vice dorm leader with some sort of internal affair, but I think he did something to me that's making it impossible to refuse him anymore. I tried to bail, but they caught me and now they're locking me up and keeping a close eye on me.

If I may be a bit bold, I'm fucking scared out of my mind. I know it's rude of me to make demands without proper compensation, but I think I need some help. I don't want to cause a big fuss, so if you can could you come alone? If you can't that's fine. I'm sure I can pull through until the break ends.

I hope you're doing well. Again, sorry for the smell.

He makes a few more creases in the paper due to gripping it so harshly. He remembers opening it the first time and nearly ripping it in half because of how utterly livid he was. Your fresh blood also didn't help at the time. You didn't state what your current condition was when you drafted the letter and his mind immediately thought of you being injured and that was the reason you wrote it in your blood.

The time between him sneaking past his castle's security once he received your letter to arriving on Sage's Island via his own magic (curse the dark mirror for being inactive during the winter) is a bit of a blur. All he can remember is that he was just so worried for you, a magicless human against an entire dorm of wizards in training. Even someone with subpar control over their magic can do you a great deal of damage.

If sneaking out of his home without telling a soul, potentially causing one of the largest search hunts to commence had someone noticed and reported to his grandmother, doesn't prove how much you mean to him, he doesn't know what will.

One week. If it takes you one more week for you to realize this, then he will wait.

He trusts you, just as you trusted him when you sent him that letter.

He grabs his quill and dips the tip into a jar of ink, writing something quick and straightforward on a spare piece of parchment.

"Please come to my party. It would mean the world to me."

After the ink dries, he folds it and places it in the envelope, sealing it with wax bearing the crest of his family. He needs not utter a single incantation to have it erupt in a blaze of green fire. He waits. One minute. Two. Suddenly, a spark of blue fire erupts on his desk before dissipating, leaving behind the same envelope he burned minus a wax seal.

He opens it.

"Of course I will!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #twst writing #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader #fanfic: courtship

67 notes · View notes

starlight-vixen-emiko · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday 7/7/2021

Hey everyone! It’s time for our favorite time of the week!

I am steadily working on Wedding Roses and it is coming around but I also remembered that my birthday is on August 2nd and this year I should write a bunch of birthday related fanfics.

Technically I do have quite a few birthday related fanfics lined up but the preview I am showing right now involves the birthday of Luka and Marinette’s youngest daughter! <3

Because I had the biggest urge to write about my Lukanette kids again...It’s become my source of comfort strangely enough.

Enjoy! Sorry for roughness!

~~~~

Melanie Couffaine-Cheng slept peacefully under her quilt. She dreamt and dreamt about how different life would be now that it was her birthday. She reached her 9 candles today on June 6th.

She pulled her quilt off of her and yawned as her bedroom was the same as usual. Fluffy pastel carpets, stuffed animals in the corner, and a play table for all her art projects and her tea parties that she was starting to grow out of.

Melanie blinked her bluebell eyes and checked her hands to see if she looked older. Then she pulled her quilt off her legs and saw her feet almost reached the footboard.

She then got out of bed and checked her phone on her nightstand to see it was 9:15 AM. A bit later than she usually slept but it was a nice sleep to wake up energized on her 9th birthday. Melanie was a bit disappointed to find out that Aiden didn't send her a text message though.

But it was her birthday and her parents promised to make her a special breakfast and take her and her older siblings to the fair. She could already hear her loud older sister from behind the door but Melanie was relieved her sister's yelling seemed out of excitement rather than trouble.

Melanie opened the door and leaned towards the railway quietly listening in on her family. Her Mama and Papa were making breakfast and her brother and sister were actually laughing instead of fighting. It was a birthday miracle.

Melanie stayed quiet as she walked down the stairs. She loved her family yes but she felt embarrassed being smothered by love and affection from them.

"Blueberry pancakes with sprinkles and icing, yum!" Marina cried.

Luka decided to show off a bit and flip a pancake in the air which Marinette quickly caught with a plate. "I got it darling!" Marinette cried.

"You're a natural my love," Luka said as he kissed his wife on the cheek.

Marinette and Luka went back to making more pancakes.

"Mama! Can I have 10 pancakes?" Marina asked.

Leon chuckled. "Marina, we don't need you making blue vomit at the fair."

"It's for energy, big brother!" Marina cried. "I'd rather vomit at the fair than faint at the fair like you do when you're on the ferris wheel."

Leon sighed. "Yeah I am sure Erina would appreciate you vomiting at the fair again."

Melanie couldn't help but giggle at the bottom of the stairs despite trying to stay silent. Her entire family turned to her.

"Melanie my little bug! Happy birthday!" Marinette cried with a spatula in her hand.

Melanie gave a bit of a half hearted smile. She wasn't exactly a little bug anymore. She hoped this year she would be a butterfly.

Her older brother and sister huddled around her.

“Happy birthday Mels!” Marina said. Her older sister stroked the top of her head. “You’re a big kid now and that means you’ll be doing big kid stuff!”

Melanie wasn’t so sure about that, then again Marina was 9 before. Melanie remembered Marina getting her own acoustic guitar at the age of 9 and at the age of 5 Melanie was so jealous.

Leon placed his hands on his youngest sister’s shoulders and doted on her. “MelMel, happy birthday! You’re getting so big!”

Her older brother then lifted her up. Melanie enjoyed it when Leon or her father lifted her up but she still felt like a little kid.

“Hmm, I can still carry you just fine,” Leon smiled. “You’re so precious!”

Marina smiled from behind Melanie. “Hey Mels, can I carry you to the table? I would use my skateboard but Mama and Papa wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Melanie smiled as Leon placed her on Marina’s back.

“Alright! Since your 9 now you can probably go skateboarding with me but first!” Marina ran to the island table with Melanie on her back.

"Mama! Papa! She's here!" Marina grinned.

Marinette and Luka finished making pancakes and walked to their daughters.

Luka smiled down to his daughters and patted Marina on the head. "The two of you get more beautiful each day."

Then Luka took Melanie in his arms. "It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl."

"Oh Papa! You're embarrassing me!" Melanie cried.

Luka kissed his daughter on the cheek and wrapped his arm around Marinette. Marinette took a moment to pinch Melanie's chubby cheek. “Well you are getting bigger Mel,” Marinette said. “In more ways than one.”

Marinette winked at her daughter which caught Melanie off guard. What if her mother was teasing her and her feet would grow bigger before she became as tall as Marina.

But before Melanie could say something Luka placed her down on one of the island table stools.

“Melanie you slept longer than you usually do I was so surprised!” Marinette said as she stacked up pancakes. “You being a big girl means you need some more sleep.”

Melanie was a bit bummed out over that idea. She did want to wake up early today and wake up her parents and siblings like she did when she turned 5.

To Melanie’s surprise her father placed 9 candles on a stack of blueberry birthday cake pancakes. Melanie smiled as her father placed the plate in front of her.

“Leon, Marina, time to eat!” Marinette cried.

Leon and Marina sat at Melanie’s sides and were eager to eat pancakes themselves. Marina smiled as Melanie was about to blow the candles on the pancakes.

“They should be sparkler candles,” Marina said.

Luka took a moment to rub his temple. “Maybe when you’re twenty Marina.”

Marinette pondered for a moment. “Maybe we could at one point, as long as we aren’t in the house.”

Luka pondered for a moment but then he smiled. “Alright,” he said as he placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “But next birthday.”

Luka and Marinette turned to Melanie who watched the candles on top of the pancakes.

“Make a wish Melanie,” Luka said.

Melanie pondered for a moment and then she closed her eyes and placed her hands over her heart before blowing out the candles.

“May it be so,” Melanie said.

Luka carefully took off the candles before Melanie ate the delicious pancakes that tasted exactly like cake. The blueberries were juicy and the sprinkles had a nice texture and the icing added the type of sweetness Melanie desired.

She and her siblings both tore up the pancakes their parents made and Melanie’s eyes sparkled toward her parents.

“Mama, Papa,” Melanie cried. “Can I have seconds?”

Marinette smiled and walked over with some more pancakes that Leon and Marina were also eager to eat. “Of course Mels, but we wondered if you would want to save your stomach for later.”

“Mama, we can make room for pancakes and fair food!” Marina cried. “At least I can.” She said with her fork still in her hand.

Luka smirked at his kids. “Well we figured you would want to save your stomachs because your Uncle Adrien and Aunt Kagami have made it home on time.”

Melanie gasped. “Aiden is back from Japan?” She cried.

Luka and Marinette smiled at each other and then nodded to the excited Melanie.

“They wouldn’t want to miss it, especially Aiden,” Marinette said.

Melanie smiled and then quickly tried to eat the rest of the pancakes.

“Whoa Melanie!” Leon cried as he took his sister’s wrist. “We wouldn’t want you sick on your birthday.”

Marina however swallowed her pancakes like an animal and then gulped down some milk. “It’s about time Erina came home!” Marina cried. “I wouldn’t forgive her if she missed this!”

“Masamori said their circumstances were out of their control Marina!” Leon cried. “You can be so harsh sometimes!”

“Only because I love Erina!” Marina practically stuck her tongue out to Leon.

Melanie savored the rest of her delicious pancakes and then sighed happily.

“Thank you Mama and Papa. Those are the best pancakes!” Melanie said.

Luka walked up to her daughter again and patted her on the head. “Anything for you Mel.”

But now Melanie was eager to spend her birthday with her best friend Aiden Tsurugi-Agreste. They have been best friends since birth. Always close knit and having fun together.

“It wouldn’t be a birthday without Aiden, big sister Erina, big brother Masamori, and Uncle Adrien and Aunt Kagami,” Melanie said.

Author’s Note: Ok, I had fun writing this...Again I apologize that the Adrien and Kagami’s kids were only mentioned but this preview was getting too long...

God...Blueberry birthday pancakes sound good right now.

Anyway, see you guys later! This is Emiko Gale saying, goodnight sleep tight!

#pro lukamari #lukanette #endgame lukanette #duh!#wip wednesday #my writing #my fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

365days365movies · 3 years

Text

March, 6, 2021: Wolfwalkers (2020) (Part One)

I love Cartoon Saloon so goddamn much.

Before I’d seen a single Ghibli film, I was a big fan of the Irish film studio because of their first film, The Secret of Kells. They’d also done a few TV series in the years prior (I’ve heard of Skunk Fu!, and have no interest in seeing it), and still make a few to this day, but the first time I’d heard of them was with Kells, a delightful movie that borrowed from both Irish history and folklore in their telling of the making of a famous illustrated version of the Bible, and a young boy’s friendship with a mysterious forest spirit.

And yeah, that movie is great, but I didn’t have much to go off of then. And then, 5 years later, they released their second film. And that one fucking BROKE me.

Song of the Sea is the second in what would become director Tomm Moore’s trilogy of movies based on Irish folklore, and was a bit more contemporary as compared to Kells. That one’s about a boy and his mute sister, whom he blames for the death of his mother. However, his mother is not dead, but is a selkie, a mythical Irish mermaid that becomes a seal when donning a magical coat. And it turns out that his sister is one as well!

And you think, “aww, look at the seals, they’re drawn so cute” FUCK ME IT’S BEAUTIFUL AND HEARTBREAKING. It takes a lot from Irish mythology, from giants to owl-women, and it’s a fantastic fuckin’ movie. And then, three years later...Tomm Moore’s directing partner stepped up.

See, while Moore was developing Song of the Sea, his partner from Kells, Nora Twomey, stepped in with her own solo project: The Breadwinner. We leave Ireland this time for a book adaptation based in Afghanistan in the 1990s, where a young girl is forced to pretend to be a boy in order to provide for her family (which was apparently a common practice). A LOT happens in this one, and it’s goddamn fantastic as well! It lost to Coco for Best Animated Feature at the Oscars, and...yeah, that’s fair. It’s hard to beat Coco.

But wow, a 2-D animated feature-based company! WHICH IS FANTASTIC! Seriously, in a landscape with fewer and fewer 2-D films in theaters, I’m overjoyed to see these guys hanging in there with some fantastic films! And just when I’d neared desperation for a new Cartoon Saloon feature...here comes Moore.

Ohhhhhh, let’s fucking GO! The last entry of the Irish Folklore Trilogy, today’s entry is Wolfwalkers, a film that was exclusively released to Apple TV, which I got SPECIFICALLY for this movie. It’s $5, I can afford it.

But I am absolutely pumped for this one. It’s based off of the legend of the Werewolves of Ossory, a kingdom in medieval Ireland in which there was a legendary tribe of people with the ability to turn into wolves to hunt in the forest. It’s also based upon the Irish wolf, a population of grey wolves (Canis lupus) on the island that were sadly extirpated in 1976. People, man. People.

But OK, let’s get this baby STARTED! Been wanting to watch this one since I heard about it, and I’m excited! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Kilkenny, Ireland, in the Year of Our Lord 1650! A group of loggers are working in the gorgeous and atmospheric Irish forest, when they’re accosted by a pack of...honestly very cool looking and well-designed wolves. One of them is caught by the pack and scratched up, then they all retreat.

A large mysterious woman with big red hair and her young daughter stop the wolves from hurting the man further, and also heal up his scratches. He thanks them, and they flee with the wolf pack as the angry townsfolk chase after them.

Wolves are the enemy of the townsfolk, and those townsfolk include the newly-arrived Bill Goodfellowe (Sean Bean) and his daughter, Robyn (Honor Kneafsey), who’ve just moved from England. Bill is a hunter, and his daughter is eager to help him in his endeavors, armed with a crossbow and her falcon, Merlyn.

Bill is on the way to hunt wolves, as assigned by the Lord Protector of England. Robyn badly wants to join him, but it’s dangerous out there, and the Lord Protector forbids children beyond the walls of Kilkenny. Robyn wants out, though, as she’s an English outsider in the Irish village, and this is at a point where their relationship was at an all-time low.

Robyn, clever girl that she is, finds a way to use a group of bullies to distract the men guarding the gates, and sneaks out to the forest with Merlin. As she follows her father (currently unbeknownst to him), she hears a cry warning of a wolf. Robyn runs off to investigate.

A group of shepherds are being accosted by a pack of wolves. Robyn tries to shoot one of them, but the panicking sheep knock into her, and she fires her arrow at...Merlyn. Fuck! I already liked him! The commotion grows...until a distinctly human howl is heard from the forest, stopping the wolves in their tracks. Robyn looks over at the downed Merlyn.

The little girl takes Merlyn away, and retreats back into the woods. The wolves block Robyn’s path, and as they’re about to attack her, Bill arrives, and shoots one of them with his crossbow. The human howl is heard again, and the wolves retreat, one of them injured. Bill chides Robyn for going into the woods, and she tries to go back to get Merlyn. But Bill promised her mother that she’d keep her safe...which means that she’s almost certainly dead. Well, damn.

They leave the woods, only to be berated by the logger from the beginning, Seán Óg (Tommy Tiernan). He tells Bill off, as the increased logging under the Lord Protectorate has angered the wolves and the people who live with them, whom he refers to as “Wolfwalkers”. But Bill insists that the Lord Protectorate wants the woods cleared, and the wolves exterminated. Seán badmouths the Lord, and of course, who would show up but...

The Lord Protectorate is...oh dear FUCK, it’s Oliver Cromwell (Simon McBurney). Cromwell was a NOTORIOUS asshole for a lot of reasons, and he plays a big role in Ireland’s subjugation by England in the 1650s. I’m in no way educated enough to comment in detail on that, but like I said earlier: it’s a rough time in Irish history, and Oliver Cromwell, cruel, paranoid, but technically historically important douchebag that he was, was right at the center of it all.

Fun fact, Cromwell actually overthrew the Monarchy shortly after this, during the English Civil War, and became the ruler of the Commonwealth of England. After his 1658 death, his son took over, until he was overthrown by the return of the Monarchy, via King Charles II about 3 years later. And he was SO FUCKING PISSED at the whole affair, that they had Cromwell’s corpse dug up from Westminster Abbey (where kings and queens and Charles Darwin are buried), beheaded, and stuck on a pike on Westminster Hall! Damn.

Anyway, this Oliver Cromwell is just about to overthrow the Monarchy, and he wants Ireland under his heel. He’s commanded the woods to be cut down in order for farms to be established, and Goodfellowe is assigned to exterminate the wolves completely so that that will happen. Upon seeing Robyn, he commands the guards to take her to the scullery, where she’ll probably be trained as a scullery maid. Yay, child labor!

Seán, having just seen the girl with the wolves, tells Robyn who she is. He tells her that the Wolfwalkers can talk to wolves, and will also heal the injured with wild magic. To go back into the woods, she unlocks the cage that Seán Óg was thrown in for insulting Cromwell. His sheep are also in there, and the release of Seán and the sheep causes enough of a distraction for Robyn to flee into the woods.

Once there, she quickly finds Merlyn, who has indeed been healed by wild magic . Once there, a red wolf approaches her. Robyn readies her crossbow, but Merlyn prevents her from firing, and she gets caught in a snare as a result. During a struggle, the two clash, and the wolf bites Robyn.

She falls out of the snare, but also sees a new kind of vision, seeing the wolf as the girl from earlier in a beautifully animated type of vision. Her arm swirls with golden magic as well, emanating from the bite. Merlyn follows the wolf as they run away, and Robyn’s pursuit of the two leads her into a beautiful hidden grove, with a massive waterfall. Behind it is a cave, covered in drawings of humans and wolves. And that’s not all that’s in the cave.

At the center of the cave is the girl and her mother, sleeping and now surrounded by the wolves. The red wolf becomes yellow energy, and the energy goes into the little girl, who wakes up. Robyn is immediately found out, and the young girl approaches with the wolves at her back.

This is Mebh (pronounced “Maeve”) Óg MacTíre (Eva Whittaker), and I’ve IMMEDIATELY taken a liking to her, from her voice to her character design to her personality. Robyn doesn’t feel the same way, as the two clash. Mebh bit Robyn, but she was actually trying to get her out of the snare. The man are getting to close to the woods, which Mebh isn’t happy about, but Robyn says it’s “their” woods. Here we go.

Mebh uses her wild magic to fix the wound, before it’s too late. I get the feeling that it’s too late. Robyn tries to find out more, including who her mother is, but Mebh chases her off with her wolf pack in tow. And before I get to mention it, I just want to say that this is my favorite design for cartoon wolves. Real talk, I love this good bois. In the process of the chase, though, she’s again caught in a snare, which Mebh frees her from.

But as the two banter again, Mebh senses a “townie” like Robyn in the woods. It’s Bill, and Robyn goes to prevent the wolves from hurting her father. After a close call, Mebh points Robin back in the direction of the town, and blindfolds her to prevent truly discovering the location of the cave...this time. She guides Robyn back, but runs off when she smells food.

Robyn and Merlyn make their way back, and we overhear two shepherds from earlier talking about how one could turn into a wolf if bitten by a Wolfwalker. So, yeah, werewolf rules. Makes sense, given this story’s basis. The two shepherds also have Robyn’s crossbow and fresh bread. Mebh and Robyn work together to steal the food and crossbow, and run away together. Fast friends!

The two young girls bond, and share their struggles. Robyn wishes to go back to their simpler life in England, and wants to spend more time with her father, potentially in the woods. She warns Mebh that the forest is about to be cut down, endangering her and her pack. Mebh notes that her mother went to look for a new place for the pack to live, but hasn’t come back since. Robyn promises to tell her father about the Wolfwalkers and the struggles of the wolves. The two new friends part ways, promising to meet each other in the woods.

When she comes back home, Robyn prepares to tell her father her plan to get the wolves to leave without killing any of them. The preparation is entertaining, as she does a pretend back-and-forth with herself and her dad. Once he gets home, the reality is less great. When he finds out that Robyn never even went to the scullery, he doesn’t listen to her plan at all. He sends her to bed, and the plan is dead before it’s even proposed. Still, Robin promises Merlyn that they’ll find a way to help the wolves.

But that may be...harder than you’d think. As she sleeps, the golden magic comes back, and Robyn sees a wolf in her dreams. Pretty sure of where this is going. She wakes up with a start, and Bill hears this. He gets her up and takes her to the scullery, where she’s put to work.

Y’know, I’ve heard the term “scullery maid”, I’ve never once thought of what the term means. Apparently, it’s a kitchen or backroom in a house for housework, but where the hell is this? Is it, like, the town hall scullery? Not really clear, and it’s made more confusing when Robyn finds her way into a red-carpeted room with animal heads on the walls.

While there, her bite-mark glows, and a whisper of “giiiiiiiiirl” comes from a covered cage towards the front of the room. She approaches the cage, but is interrupted from checking it out by the head scullery maid. The Lord Protectorate has forbidden anyone from entering that room, and Imma call it now: that’s Mebh’s mom. I mean, yeah, no duh, but still. Calling it now.

That night, while asleep, the Wolfwalker’s magic officially takes hold, and Robyn wakes up as a wolf in her bedroom, while her human body sleeps. Her father hears the commotion in Robyn’s loft, and is about to literally kill her wolf-self, but she jumps out of a window and flees the city for the woods.

She quickly finds Mebh, who’s also panicking, as she thought she cured the bite. However, that panic subsides pretty quickly, as Mebh has never met another Wolfwalker before, and is excited to show Robyn how to be a wolf. And through Robyn’s eyes, we get a lovely view of the world through a wolf’s senses, backed by Aurora’s “Running with the Wolves”. And it’s...it’s lovely.

youtube

Its also QUITE a good half-way point, so let’s put that right here! See you in Part 2!

29 notes · View notes